The War of Odds (6 page)

Sylvan studied the ground beneath his feet, willing himself to be calm. It would not do to antagonize his cousin… she would only deny his request out of spite. As if sensing the king’s frustration, Hissaphat cleared his throat.

“My pardon, lady,” he purred. “May I say something?”

Muriel turned to the old cat. She might not like humans, but she found cats to be charming and often very useful. “Yes, Hiss. What is it?”

Hissaphat gave his whiskers a quick wash and said, “I have seen this girl for myself and agree with young Pollo. She is very strong… stronger in power than anyone I have ever seen. If she is indeed a healer mayhap, with guidance, she could help cure Timeron of the madness that his seized his senses. I have known Timeron my whole life and I fear that some dark demon is in control of his very soul, else he would never declare war on humanity, for to do such a thing risks all realms, magical and mundane!”

Muriel sighed. The cat was correct, of course. She had only just learned of Timaron’s insane call for war, but she had been sensing the darkness for many moons. She might not like humans much, but she adored her own fey people, and animals, and the great mother, Earth. A war between her realm and that of men would cost too much and be a burden neither realm could afford to bear.

Sitting straight up on her favorite tree stump, she clapped her hands together once and said, “Alright then, we need to make a plan.”

Chapter 6

Sara and Chloe met at the Full Moon café at 8:00 that evening. As predicted, the restaurant was filled to capacity with teenagers. There was a party atmosphere as the kids shared their experiences and concerns over their fellow students. Adding to the excitement was the fact that school had been cancelled for the rest of the week, due to a crack in the waterlines sustained during the quake.

Unfortunately, the boy with the broken collarbone was one of the best baseball players on the team, and they had heard he was out for the season, which was a bummer.
 
The freshman with the stitches in his cheek, however, displayed his war wounds with pride.
 
That the kids were good-naturedly calling him Frankenstein seemed to be the crowning glory of an unnerving morning.

Sara was filled with joy. The girls in this school seemed more than willing to be friends, and the fact that Nate already acted interested in her broke the ice that might have formed had Sara been on her own. Although both Chloe and Nate were bookish and a little more hip than their counter-parts, they were not ostracized. Indeed, Chloe’s outlandish hairdo and puckish grin drew people in like flies to honey.

Although Nate seemed oblivious of his own charms, Sara could tell that some of the girls were a little envious, if not surprised that Nate was drawn to Sara. It was as though the other teens sensed, instinctively, that the two young people were a perfect match, and belonged together.

Sara and Chloe ate French fries with gravy, and visited with the kids until the cook (and owner) finally said it was closing time. Although there was no damage to the restaurant from the earthquake, the bread truck was unable to complete its rounds. So, instead of closing at 11:00, as usual, he was forced to close the doors at 9:00 to ensure that there were adequate supplies for the breakfast crowd.

Sara was sorry to see the night end, but she wanted to be home when Thomas arrived, so she picked up her backpack and waved goodbye. Chloe smiled and called out, “Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Nodding, Sara left the café and started walking the mile and a half home. Thomas had promised to buy her a car before school started in the fall, but, for now, she was just as happy to walk, especially since it was a beautiful evening and she felt fat and full from the fries and gravy she and Chloe had eaten.

She thought about Nate as she made her way home in the dusk. Although the sun had set about a half hour earlier, there were streaks of pink and lavender in the velvet twilight sky, a sky that was just as blue, just as brilliant as Nate’s eyes. He was busy with dishes and bussing tables while she sat and visited with Chloe and the other students, but she saw how he stopped what he was doing, occasionally, to glance her way and she couldn’t help but notice how his smile lit up his whole face.

His long, dark hair was glossy, and his lithe young body hinted at what he would become as he matured… tall, graceful and strong.

Sara realized that for the first time, in a long time, she was at peace. Her dad was finally recovering from the loss of his wife and she had already begun to make friends. In addition, there was Nate…
maybe,
she thought,
things will work out for us here.

She saw something out of the corner of her eye and turned to stare into the tall grass by the side of the road.

“Murraow!”

It was that scruffy old cat again. Sara frowned and said, “Shoo”, but the cat seemed to grin, eyeing her speculatively from the opposite side of the road.

Rolling her eyes, Sara kept walking. From the looks of it, the cat seemed wild and somewhat lonely, as if he had belonged to a family once and remembered the kindness of people, although it had chosen to go its own way for some reason.

She tried to ignore the feline as it suddenly darted across the road and marched ahead of her with its tail held straight up in the air like a backward question mark.

“Murraow!” It stopped, turned around and sat down directly in her path.

Sara slowed and repeated, “Shoo, kitty. You’re starting to freak me out!”

Suddenly, Sara cringed as a bird cried out overhead. “Caw!”

She stared up into the branches of a tall pine tree, but it was too dark to see anything. Shrugging, Sara started to move forward, but stopped. The cat was stalking her now, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw the look in its eyes. Some errant beam of light illuminated the cat’s golden orbs, and the intelligence she saw in them made Sara gasp in awe. She cautiously started backing away.

“Caw!” The bird was even closer now, practically on top of her, and Sara winced in fear. It felt as though she was surrounded by animals and worse, that they were herding her! That was impossible, she knew, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something completely odd and very otherworldly was happening, and that she, Sara Giddings, was right in the middle of it.

The cat was so close to her now, Sara could see each individual whisker on its face and the gray and black stripes in its dusty fur. It was gazing up into her eyes and its mouth was open in a maniacal grin. Then it screeched.

“RRRAOOOW!” and launched its whole body up into the air.

Sara screamed as the cat landed on her chest. She had been poised on her toes as she tried to back away from the cats advances, but her balance was off as it struck and she fell back and down into the weeds by the road. Expecting the worse, Sara tucked her head down and placed both arms up in defense against the cat’s claws, but the attack never came.

Keeping her arms up, Sara peered fearfully through the sleeves of her light jacket. What she saw made her jaw go slack in astonishment. The cat was sitting a few feet from where she sat on her rump in the weeds. It was washing its whiskers and grinning as a black and red bird jumped up and down to the ground from where it perched on the felines back.

“What in the he…” Sara breathed, and then she heard a voice speak to her from the gloom of the tall trees. “Hello?”

Sara squealed in alarm and spun around to see who was there. Her eyes grew huge as she saw something straight out of a fairy tale picture book. Although something in the back of her mind informed Sara that she had seen this small fellow before, her logical brain screamed in denial.

A little man was standing on an old tree stump. He was about a foot tall and dressed in a sort of tunic that fell to just above his knees and high-heeled leather boots. It was too dark to see much except a pale face with huge slanted eyes and a pointy nose, but Sara could tell that he was just as terrified of her as she was of him.

She heard a flutter of wings and saw the bird land on the stump next to the small man. He reached out a hand and stroked the bird’s feathers, murmuring, “It’s alright, Ms. Rattle. The witch won’t hurt us… no.” His eyes slid sideways at where Sara lay, gaping and the cat hissed, “She had better not try it.”

“What’s going on here,” she uttered. “Am I crazy?”

The cat grinned at her obnoxiously, but the little man shook his head. “No, Lady, but you CAN see. Try not to be alarmed, please. You have no teacher, this my friend and I have seen, and so we want to offer you help and guidance. Also, maybe you can help us…”

“Perhaps that is too much information, Pollo,” the cat interrupted. He yawned, spiky yellow canine teeth glittering in the light of the moon that was just beginning to rise up over the tree line.

Then Sara saw something step out of the sheltering trees that she would never forget… not if she lived to a hundred a fifty-years-old. A tall, beautiful green woman approached. She was naked except for a cloak made of vines and leaves which seemed to shimmer in the gloaming. Her hair swirled around her head and shoulders like living filaments of metal and her yellow eyes bored into Sara’s with knowledge and wisdom so profound, it made the girl want to weep in awe.

“Rest easy, young witch, we are not here to harm you… are we Hiss?” the woman’s voice was like music to Sara’s ears, as if all the orchestras and choirs in existence resided deep in her vocal chords. The cat managed to look a little ashamed, and sat down in sleepy silence by the little man’s tree trunk.

“Who are you… are you real?” Sara managed to whisper.

The woman grinned with dark, shiny lips. “We are very real, child. My name is Muriel, this young fellow is called Pollo, the cat’s name is Hissaphat, and that is Ms. Rattle.”

Sara gulped and wondered, briefly, if someone had slipped something into her Coke back at the café. She entertained that irrational hope for a moment, and then gave up as the night’s chill permeated her coat and she heard the woman’s cloak whisper as she took a seat on another old tree stump.

Muriel gazed down at the young human and said, “I know this must be a bit of a shock for you, but I need you to answer a couple of questions for me.”

Sara nodded silently and the nymph continued, “What is your name and how old are you?”

Sara cleared her throat and croaked, “Sara, and I’m sixteen and a half…”

Muriel frowned and said, “Where is your teacher?” As confusion crossed Sara’s face, the nymph snapped, “your guide, girl. What happened to him,” she paused, “or her?”

Sara’s eyes filled with tears. “I think you mean my mother… she died a year and a half ago.”

Muriel felt her heart soften at the pain in the young witch’s face. “I’m sorry for your loss, child, but the fact remains that you need a sponsor, especially now that your powers are so strong.”

“And maybe you could help us!” the little man named Pollo added, excitedly.

“Sssh, Pollo!” the woman snapped.

Sara, knowing now that these creatures were very much real and did not seem to mean her any harm, asked, “I’m sorry, but what exactly are you?”

“The woman sat up straight and declared, “We are fey, child. I am a wood nymph, Pollo is a sprite, and Hiss is a cat… and a rude one, at that.”

Hissaphat, who had grinned at the young girl’s question, closed his eyes again at the nymph’s rebuke.

“Ooookay,” Sara sighed, and blurted, “But why can I see you?”

Muriel studied the girl, and thought,
we shall see what this young human is made of now
. “You are a witch, girl, and a powerful one, I think. You must have a sponsor… someone to guide you, especially now that the dark ones are seizing power in the world,” she paused for a moment adding, “your world and mine.”

The beautiful green woman shook her head and sighed. “Sara, power likes yours cannot be ignored or denied. Your light shines like a beacon in the darkness…” her voice dropped ominously, “especially to the dark ones that roam our two realms unchecked. They would seek you out, either to destroy the light within your soul, or capture it for their own evil purposes.”