Falling Ashes

Ugh, what’s happening to me? I thought. All of these sappy, romantic thoughts are so unlike me.

Hawthorne and Emilija retreated to the windmill for a nap while I watched their children. It was nice to be trusted with the three troublemakers, even if Hawthorne had become dull since fatherhood. These days he and Emilija slept for a most of the daylight hours, waking up every now and then to catch something to eat. I didn’t mind; it meant I got to bond with the pups.

I daydreamed as I watched them play, my mind travelling a thousand miles to be with Jack. I envisioned him walking through the trees and appearing on the bottom of the hill. I’d probably run down the slope and jump into his arms. The thought brought a smile to my face.

I was so caught up in the fantasy that I thought I saw the trees rustle as though someone were pushing their way through them. Perhaps I wanted to see Jack so badly I was beginning to hallucinate.

And then a figure appeared between the trees; it seemed I really was hallucinating.

I stood, ready to run down the hill, but realized very quickly that it was not a hallucination; someone was watching me through the trees.

I took a step forward, squinting at the shape, trying to distinguish the features. I could see that it was a man who stood there. At the bottom of the hill, the three pups stopped playing and stared at the figure, their tails between their legs. Suddenly, I felt a wave of foreboding; something terrible was about to happen.

I began to run down the hill but tripped on a rabbit hole and tumbled down instead, coming to a painful halt a few yards from the tree line where I had a clear view of the man. At least I was faster at falling than running.

I scrambled to my feet, my knees and elbows stained from the grass, and Willow and Rue ran to me and hid behind my legs, quivering with fear.

Finn the hunter stood before us, holding a dagger identical to the one he’d embedded in my thigh five days ago. Its twin was still at the bottom my rucksack in the windmill. I’d been using it to skin the dead animals Hawthorne brought me.

But it wasn’t the dagger in his right hand that made me freeze on the spot; it was what he held in his left hand that frightened me more than anything.

Finn held Shadow by the scruff of his neck, the dagger at his throat. Shadow was crying and wriggling, trying to break free of Finn’s grip while Willow and Rue whimpered behind me.

‘What are you doing?’ I said at once. ‘Drop him, right now!’

Finn smirked. ‘It just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it? I came here looking for you and the monster, but here I find three little monster pups.’

‘Let. Him. Go,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘Or there will be hell to pay.’

Finn shook Shadow a little, making him squeal. ‘Make one move, and I’ll slit his throat,’ he said, pressing the dagger against Shadow’s stark white fur.

‘You wouldn’t,’ I said, my hearth thumping wildly. ‘Are you really so heartless you’d hurt an innocent animal?’

Finn shrugged. ‘It’s all in a days work, Sweetheart.’

There was nothing I could do except stall Finn until Hawthorne and Emilija woke up from their nap. Hopefully the cries of their young would rouse them from slumber.

‘You got here rather quick,’ I said, thinking on my toes. ‘Boat?’

Finn pursed his lips. ‘Yes, and I get rather sea-sick too. I didn’t expect to find you in Belgium, though. But here we are.’

Belgium; even I hadn’t known that. I’d never left England before. ‘Well, I had to give you a challenge, right?’

Finn smiled. ‘How’d your leg heal? I see you’re walking well.’

‘Fine.’ I glared. ‘No thanks to you.’

He chortled. ‘I must admit, I didn’t mean to send you over the edge. Lucky your sailor friend rescued you though. I waited for you to reappear in the water, but to be honest, I’ve never met a Fire-Mage that could swim. I guess it was rather careless of me, though I’m sure I would have received the reward regardless of whether you were dead or alive.’

‘How reassuring for you,’ I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm as Shadow struggled against Finn’s grip

‘This one’s got a bit of fight in him,’ said Finn. ‘What do you think his hide would be worth?’ He traced the tip of the dagger along Shadow’s pink belly.

‘No!’ I gasped, taking a step forwards. ‘Please, don’t hurt him.’

‘It seems I have a rather hard decision to make,’ said Finn. ‘I can either take these three pups and get a small fortune for each one … or I take you and claim the reward money.’ He pursed his lips as though considering the decision.

I heard the rustle of wings and crunching grass behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Hawthorne and Emilija slinking down the hillside towards Finn, their eyes narrowed.