Prompt #300. Double Vision. As is somewhat traditional, we're starting things off with a picture prompt. But this time you get a choice. Choose one of the images below as the inspiration for your work today. prnt. sc/17ube8w OR prnt. sc/17ubhtu

Part of my Magical Creatures series. Takes place after EMPT but before Hidden Fears.


"Do you intend to sleep tonight?"

He did not bother answering, a flick of his hand waving the question away as if not worth his time. Considering he had not slept since we arrived, I supposed it was not. I should have known that answer.

Except I wanted to sleep. After nearly a week of staring at my ceiling while he paced the nights away, I still could not convince him to let me help. I had read all my books, I did not know enough of the case to start asking random questions, and I could not even write. The rabbits refused to talk when I was this tired. I would not be of much use tomorrow without a few hours of restful sleep. Did our inn have a common area I could commandeer for the night?

The library, perhaps, but the innkeeper's young daughter often went there first thing in the morning. Finding me sound asleep on the sofa, book nearby or not, could cause an encounter rather uncomfortable for both parties. What about the lounge?

No, but for the opposite problem. Several of the more nocturnal guests probably still played cards in that smoky room. While separate enough from the rest of the living quarters as to avoid bothering anyone, I would never be able to sleep in the lounge itself. Where else could I go?

I could think of nothing, but nor did I want to stare at the ceiling until dawn. When another pointed question received even less of an answer, I pushed off the doorframe on my way to the hall. If nothing else, the night life would make a decent distraction.

The inn sat on a large patch of countryside just out of sight of the nearest town. Rolling hills and a bubbling stream created the illusion of solitude, but even the areas absent of other humans were never completely barren. A bat darted through the air after a swarm of bugs. An owl swooped on silent wings to land on a suddenly squeaking mouse. A fox dug beneath a tree, hunting for the mole responsible for the upraised dirt snaking through the roots. A creek a quarter mile from the inn held various kinds of fish, all leading me downstream to the larger river. Water dripped from tree limbs recently dunked by a passing creature.

I hurried past. I had no wish to interrupt someone's swim.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

The small voice halted me mid step. Drifting out of the depths of the tree, the words carried the tension that suggested the pain of an injury, but no human carried that accent. One hand pulled Nicolas' gift from its pocket.

"Hello."

"Finally." The heavy sigh of relief twitched several leaves. "My name is Kukrin. Think I broke me ankle on a branch. Would ye tell the keeper ta send someone out? I can't get off tha ground to take myself."

"Kukrin," I acknowledged. I did not dare step forward yet, but most malevolent creatures would try to lure me closer, not send me away. "I am Doctor Watson. Will you accept help from a human?"

"Doctor Watson?" The word devolved into the gruffly surprised laughter I associated with dwarves. "Aye, Doctor, I'd accept help from you, and mean you no harm in the doing. You can be sure o' that. I'm less than a span from tha trunk."

Nicolas' amulet stayed the rich blue of honesty. My jacket landed on the ground in full view of the river, but I willingly crouched beneath the dangling branches to reach the sheltered patch of earth beneath. Coarse, black hair shifted to let pain weary eyes look at me.

"Am I glad to see you." He tried to move but stopped with a half-concealed wince, and one hand guided my attention to the foot firmly trapped between two large roots. "Can't get it out. Can't get an angle to take the fast way home. None o' tha others have come close enough to hear me." He watched me inspect the roots and his swollen ankle, obviously looking for anything to take his mind off the pain. "The big man know you're in tha backwoods o' Scotland agin?"

"Probably," I answered with a tired smile. His ankle was trapped, not the shoe. This would not be easy—or painless. "He has told me more than once that he keeps tabs on me, but we will not be here for long. Holmes has a case in town."

A noise of understanding became a grunt of pain. "An' keepin' you awake all night, by tha looks of it. Leave it to tha 'foremost detective' ta miss those shadows. How long 'as it been? Two days? Three?"

"Closer to a week," I answered wryly. I had heard of Kukrin only a handful of times, but I recognized that turn of phrase. "You are a friend of Drofelbrek, aren't you?"

The question sparked surprise followed by grudging realization. "Aye, laddie, 'n I feel I know ye though we've not met. My apologies."

Apologies from dwarves were nearly as rare as from consulting detectives, but I waved aside the worry. His ankle was more important than the straightforward gruffness I knew to expect from a dwarf.

"How did your foot get in there?"

"I stepped in it," he answered shortly. "Lost my balance 'n couldn't stand ta get it out."

I ran a careful hand along the thick roots and what I could reach of his foot. "We have two options. I could try using my cane to break the roots until you can free yourself, but I would probably need to return to the inn for a saw."

The expected protest formed immediately. "That would take all night."

"Yes," I agreed, "but your other option is I pick you up until we get the angle right to slip out of the roots. That would be faster but much more painful. You have broken at least two of the small bones in the joint."

That earned me something between a grimace and a scowl. Magical creatures hated physical contact anyway, but dwarves more than most. Add a non-magical human to the equation, and most would choose the longer route. I fully expected him to request I return to the inn.

He surprised me, however. "How would ye pick me up?"

"Under your elbows."

Consideration revealed his silent debate, but a glance at me strangely made up his mind. "The fast way. What do you need me to do?"

"Relax everything but your arms and shoulders," I replied, moving behind him to hide my expression. I had not expected anything near that level of trust. "This will hurt, but if you tense, it will hurt more. Ready?"

He took a deep breath, then nodded, and I easily managed his slight weight. White knuckles revealed the pain in his foot as I "stood" him over the hole then lifted him straight up. Once clear, I set him down where he could lean against the tree. His face had drained of all color when I knelt in front of him.

"Kukrin?"

A long exhale became a sigh. "You were right. That 'urt. Can ye splint it now?"

"Not if you are about to faint."

I had already identified two nearby sticks that would serve, but the retort gave me the scowl I sought. He crossed his arms at me as his color slowly returned.

"I'll not faint, laddie. Do yer medical thing so I can go 'ome."

My quiet chuckle tried to darken his glare. He could not hold the irritation for long, however. Like with Holmes, my wide smirk quickly became a mirror.

"Humans."

"Dwarves," I said in the same tone. This would distract him from the splint. "Do you ever tire of insulting?"

He huffed a laugh. "'Course not. Where's the fun in that?"

"Might be why so many stories paint you as caustic, old men," I shot back. "One I heard last week thinks you all work in the mines and scowl the rocks into jumping into your cart."

One shoulder lifted in a shrug, though a suspicious twitch of his lips said he found that amusing. "Rich comin' from tha species as lost their magic ages ago. Why should I care what tha humans think?"

"What if acceptance could restore the magic?"

He had not expected that. His retort died before it fully formed. "What d'ye mean?"

Small, supple branches served as twine to fasten the sticks in place. I gently wrapped several layers to protect the injury until he could see another doctor.

"What if widespread knowledge and acceptance on both sides could renew humans' magic?" I repeated, expanding the idea I used more to distract him than anything else. "Nothing ever says we lost it forever. So much of the magical realm holds humans as inferior and to be avoided out of fear, but what if that same segregation is what prevents humans from regaining our magic?" A tight knot fastened the last branch, and I leaned back with a smile. "That should keep until you can put a proper cast on it. Does anything else need attention?"

The question almost physically shook him out of some deliberation, and a different sort of surprise had mixed with pain when he looked up at me. He did not voice his thoughts, however.

"No. 'Twas only the ankle. Thank ye, Doctor. I was not lookin' forward ta spendin' the night out here."

"Not a problem." I pushed myself to a crouch and turned to leave. He could not "take the fast route," as he called it, as long as I remained in sight. "I will stay within range until after you leave. It was good to meet you, Kukrin."

"Doctor?"

A glance back found him staring at me with an air of something like indecision. "Ye might like tha bridge further downstream," he finally said. "Tha other side contains yer greatest desire, provided ye word your request carefully."

I felt a smile stretch my mouth. "This bridge is guarded by a selkie, I take it?"

"Aye." That sounded like another breathed laugh. "She took over from the troll that used to live there."

Which meant the bridge no longer meant a one-way trip. I knew exactly what I would request.

"Thank you. Good night."

"Farewell, Doctor."

Rustling leaves signaled his departure the moment I cleared the branches, and I pulled my jacket back on as slow steps carried me away from the inn. A small, stone bridge appeared with the slight ripple that meant my friend would not be able to see it as I did. Etching on the stones grew more and more visible the closer I walked, but despite a desire to inspect the pictures, I stopped at the edge of the grass. Silence fell for a long moment.

Then small waves disturbed the bridge's reflection. Water splashed, and a lovely, young woman pulled herself to sit on the low wall, eyeing me with the fear all magical creatures reserved for humans. She undoubtedly had many visitors to her bridge, most unable to see her or the crossing's true nature.

"Madam Selkie."

I was not like most humans. The greeting instantly sparked pleasure in her gaze.

"A knowledgeable human," she replied more in wonder than in greeting. "What seekest thou?"

"A place to sleep," I answered simply, specifying, "I would like to sleep until morning and feel refreshed when I wake, ready and able to help my friend with his case on the morrow."

My wording caught her attention, as I had known it would. Not many knew the format traditionally used from humans to selkie guards. Bright eyes quickly noted the magic in my pocket before studying my face.

"Thou art Doctor John Watson, friend of Father Christmas."

I nodded once. "I am, and Kukrin suggested I seek your bridge. May I cross?"

The extra name ensured she knew that Nicolas would be able to find me, but I doubted I needed such formality. Selkies never caused true harm despite a rather devious sense of humor. At worst, I would simply wake to find that more than one night had passed.

Which was why I had specified being able to help with Holmes' case. She studied me for another moment before extending one hand toward the far bank.

"Enter by invitation, Doctor John Watson. Restless nights shall not find thee whilst in my home."

She dove back into the river, her waves disappearing downstream as riverbank flickered to a large field in front of me. A thick patch of grass cushioned the ground not twenty feet from the bridge, and warmth permeated every joint the moment I got comfortable. Between that and the complete silence, I fell asleep without finishing my sigh of relief.


Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to review :)

There will be a sequel to this. I'm just not sure when.

Fireguardian22: not sure. it's not in canon, and in my stories, he's in his 60s (ish) in 1916. I figure him about the same age as Holmes and Watson