“Mine’s Marcus.” He tipped his head.
Marcus was such a plain name for someone so extraordinary. It didn’t fit. I let my eyes travel across his shadowy form before settling on his eyes. They were such a strange, beautiful shade of grey. The irises swam as though filled with mercury. No, whoever he was he must have been-
“Lying,” I mumbled and cleared my throat. “You’re lying.”
“How do you know I am?”
“Call it intuition,” I glared.
He smirked. “So are you.” His eyes darkened. Yes, I was technically.
Father had nicknamed me Cedar the first time he’d taken to me to the Trading Post as a child. We’d passed girls my age that wore pretty dresses and played with dolls outside their houses and I whined at the shirt and trousers he’d shoved me into. Daeus above, the smack he’d given me when I tried to take off my hat and let my hair down was enough to silence me for a few days afterwards. He’d sat me down and explained to me that it was for my own protection but I didn’t fully understand. Not until a couple of months later, when a series of little girls went missing from beneath their guardians’ noses. The state they were found in made me wish they hadn’t been found at all. Even at such an age I’d quickly learnt the dangers of entering the Post as I was.
I sheathed my dagger and stepped away from the stranger. “Get off my land. I don’t care what your purpose is but you’re clearly not in it for livestock.” I whistled and the dogs circled him, their teeth bared.
“You’ve a way with animals.” He backed up but he was wholly relaxed, his voice steady. Whoever he was, he didn’t scare easily.
“It’s a gift,” I said as my lips pulled into a tight smile.
“Indeed it is,” he started. “-until we meet again, Cedar.”
With that he was gone. Whoever he was, the way my pseudonym dripped off his tongue like honey made my skin tingle and burn. The sound of my heart in my ears was deafening and I rested a hand on my chest as though it would stifle the noise. I shook my head clear and headed back to the farmhouse, grabbing the front porch lantern as I went.
No one outside of the farm knew I called myself Cedar when it was convenient. Even then, only a scattering of people knew that my true name was Ava. I didn’t dress up as me too often. Though I did enjoy the secrecy in some ways: throw on a pair of men’s trousers, tunic and a hat and the people who greeted me as Ava would pass me without a second glance. The townsfolk thought Cedar was my brother. It proved how unobservant the people of this town were.
The old, wooden door opened with a creak before the latch locked shut behind me. The house was dark but for a solitary candle, and I pulled one of the kitchen chairs out and sat down, suddenly feeling a hundred years older. Tiredness hit me like a brick to the face, and every bone and muscle groaned and ached as I sat there in silence, unmoving. Even the creaks and whines of the old beams seemed quieter than usual.
Odd.
The dogs retired to their basket beneath the stairs but quickly became restless, sensing something in the air. I could feel it too, and just like before I waited anxiously for what came next. The windows were glazed with a dark nothing that continued throughout the house. It was the same as always, night after night, just waiting. My guts twisted and beads of sweat began collecting on my brow and on the nape of my neck until, at last, it – it –
It started with a ringing, high-pitched and agonising; it pierced into my head like someone had stuck needles into my ears and an ache ran from one side to the other. The locket around my neck became heavy as it always did and pulled me to my knees violently, anchoring me to the floor. Everything in the room swam, contorted, and switched focus and colour, bringing up shadows and nausea. The dogs leapt from their basket and advanced slowly, nuzzling and nipping at my ears once they were close enough. They whined and licked my hands, bringing me back to the present, and the pain vanished like it always did.
There was never much warning but at least the one predictable element was that the episodes always came at night. At first, it was nothing but a migraine. Within a fortnight it had mutated and continued to do so. I caught my breath and lifted myself off the floor, grabbing the porch lantern with a shaky hand. The candle flame stuttered as I headed upstairs, winking out as I reached the landing. Finally, I threw open my bedroom door and barely had time to release the lantern before sprawling across the bed.
My head swam, twisting and spinning in the shallow darkness before my eyes fluttered open again. I took my time to sit up, no longer surprised that I wasn’t in my bedroom, and welcomed the sensation of the grass beneath my fingers. Even without the sun’s presence, the forest clearing was bright in the moonlight and stars filled every corner of the sky. I lay back again, disgruntled, and brought my hand across my eyes, watching the stars twinkle between my fingers as I wiggled them.
Beautiful.
A scream filled the air as something pricked against my fingers, making me wince. Sharp and violent like barbed wire, the scream wrapped around my chest and pressed against the inside of my skull. I clapped my hands over my ears and squeezed them tight, praying the noise would stop but it didn’t. Clouds drifted across the waning moon and darkness fell. Shadows of unknown creatures moved in the corner of my eyes and disappeared when I turned to look at them. Only the gentle swaying of the trees remained. When I could no longer bear the noise I sprang to my feet and sprinted wherever my instinct took me. The sound was everywhere, bouncing off the trees and reverberating around the clearing, like festival bells ringing out on opposite ends of the temple courtyards. I stayed my path, running until my legs and lungs burned with exhaustion while the once-placid trees turned into clawed hands tearing at me. I felt their wooden talons digging into my face and arms as I broke my way through the dense foliage until, finally, I was there.
The moment I burst through the last line of branches everything was silent. Above, the clouds moved on their way and the moonlight washed over the forest once more. In the centre of the clearing was a small lake; the stillness of its water unnatural like it was made of glass. In the middle of that stood a large stone tablet, easily double my height. On its two faces were intricate carvings that stood out on each glowing surface. Whispers swamped my mind and I shook my head to clear them. Before I could advance on the unusual artefact my heart sank as something moved at the edge of the lake. A shadow. A ghost.