“Maybe we can speed between goalposts?” I point out that from perch to perch, where the crows are, we could hyper-speed and then wait for them to move and go again. This is exactly what we do the second we see them land further on and proceed. Racing to the next set of trees in the blink of an eye, the birds move again in a game of follow me.
“I hope this is not some crazy idea, and we’re not just following some random flock of ravens trying to get away. I mean, we’re kinda assuming.” Meadow quips in, and I giggle out of pure nervousness, frustration, and doubt. Maybe she’s right, and we’re insanely following birds with nothing to do with this. Given Sierra’s text and then their freakish behavior, we assumed that we should, and who knows, maybe their curiosity has them come to us, but mistrust pushes them to move further away when we get too close.
We hyper-speed to the next set of trees further into the overgrown landscape, light failing us as they land on and do this four more times. Covering a fair bit of distance in the shortest time. They maybe can’t speed as we can, but by air, they can cover further ground than a normal human can walk in a third of the time. So we're making progress, and we seem to be heading into denser wood and more of a forestry sort of weird space that’s neither green and luscious nor sandy and rocky but somewhere in between. It’s like a drying up, almost dead wood, but dense enough to seem like it’s not. Eerie, something haunting about it as shadows lengthen across the ground and noises of night creatures start to come out subtly around us. We move fast, ignore the building anxiety that soon it will be pitch black, and hope we are heading somewhere less rural. That maybe there’s a house at the end of this trail.
“This place is weird,” I point out when we stop again and wait for the birds to move. Kicking away dead tumbleweed grazing my ankle, taking note of the terrain that’s too abundant in plants for the desert-like soil beneath us. It’s almost mystical that something so dry and arid can have so much vegetation.
“I get creepy vibes too,” Carmen admits in a low voice, seemingly aware that we’re not alone in the wilderness as multiple eyes shine from the distant brush. Large and small animals take note of our alien presence and peek because they can tell we’re not just wandering humans. Animals tend to avoid the scent of wolves at a very large distance in this outer world.
We move again as soon as the birds settle once more. This stop-and-start game is becoming tiring the farther we plod on. We have come off the path a few trees back and now seem to be wading through a wasteland with no sign of houses, manmade light, or roads in the front where we’re heading. Dead trees are blocking our view, and lots of rocks for as far as the eye can see.
“I’ve got no signal on the cell either.” Carmen sighs, aggravated, and hands Meadow back the phone she brought from the truck. “So, we can’t even check with Sierra if we’re heading the right way.” She adds with a furrowed brow and a stern expression making my last traces of hope fizzle out, like being drained of the last ounces of energy.
“God dammit!” Meadows chirps in and slides it into her pocket after checking for herself. Muttering under her breath about cursed witches and damned nightfall only makes my hackles rise and my skin goosebumps as the sun edges further down towards the horizon and the air turns cooler for lack of it.
I look at the sky at the last dregs of fading light and back at the birds and wonder at the likelihood of vampires being out here in this nothing space if darkness comes fully before we get anywhere. It’s looking likely, and even though we have nocturnal vision, I would rather have found a haven before they can come lurking out from their holes and crevices to walk the world. With my gifts, it’s harder for vampires to take us down, and I know Meadow can hold her own, possibly Carmen too; although I haven’t witnessed it yet, I would rather not have to fight and battle for survival if we don’t have to.
Three more stops, and we can’t see the truck behind us anymore as it's so far away and obscured by the trees and rocks we have passed. This seems to be taking us much further than any location Sierra sent, and I’m starting to wonder if this is even right. My gut tells me we shouldn’t be so trusting, and maybe we shouldn’t keep trying to push forward without an end.
“We should turn back. I don’t like this and don’t see an end to where we’re going.” It’s Meadow, verbalizing my exact thoughts, sounding pensive, looking overly alert, and I guess she, too, is feeling it. Picking up on the empty air, the cold aura of this place, and the suspicion of foreign eyes watching us from all angles. It’s hard to defend when out in the open like this, and we have no tactical advantage, especially with only three of us. I turn to her with a stiff expression, my stomach sinking at the thought of coming this far, only to now give in. I know it’s what I wanted, what my instincts are screaming at me, but my heart tells me it’s not the right thing to do. I want Colton home sooner, not later, and waiting another night seems like an endless eternity. I open my mouth to try and talk this out and am rendered mute as a stranger’s husky brogue echoes around us.
“Well, that would be a shame, seeing you only just got here.” A female voice startles us from somewhere to the left, sounding almost smug, confident, and so clear and loud it rings as if spoken right at our ears. We can’t see anyone at all, and we all turn instinctually, claws ripping out and teeth baring as we crowd together back-to-back to make one fierce bubble of wolf aggression. I am leaning down, poised, and ready to turn as my eyes glow with intention and every red alert signal explodes inside my body.
“Who are you? Who said that?” I call out harshly, my voice laced with a growl as my heart hammers through my chest like a ward rum, and a rustle of some nearby bushes alerts us to a dark figure slowly walking into the clearing. We three seem to shift into an almost crawl pose, ready to fight and take down our intruder, hackles rising, blood pumping and unified in awareness, alert aggression, and yet heavy wariness.
She steps into view, although shrouded in shadow, but I can still make out that she’s wearing a long black cloak, hood up, which is oversized and seems to frame her head in a sinister way. Her entire face and body are concealed in fabric and shadow, and she stops just within vision to look at us from her bold position. No hint of fear at all.
The largest of the ravens flies over and lands on her outstretched hand when it gets close, revealing smooth, almost youthful skin as it appears from under the dark cloth and a slender wrist adorned with bangles and vintage jewelry. Her pallor is so pale in the darkness that it almost glows like a beacon, and we gawp at her in both apprehension and surprise. I figure we all had ideas on what a three-thousand-year-old witch would look like, and so far, this isn’t it.
“Why, aren’t I the lass you’ve been looking for? So why are you planning on toddling away?” her accent is thick, sing-songy, and foreign. I guess Scottish, if that’s where Sierra said she was from. It sounds a little rustic yet warm, and she has a pleasing voice to listen to that pulls you in and intrigues you. There is no hint of any American twang, yet she speaks clearly in an almost teasing and clear way.
“Are you Leyanne Cruden?” Meadow queries, even though we both know this can’t be anyone else. Lurking out here with these birds, wearing a stereotypical witch’s cloak and showing face as the moon hits its highest point. She’s spooky, and my nerves twang so tight I reckon it won’t take much to snap them fully.
“Depends on who’s asking. Depends on what they want?” she laughs, a low, husky, and seductive sound like rolling waves that echo around us eerily, and the hint of bold confidence and lack of fear completely unnerve me. She doesn’t seem to care that three highly aggressive wolves are homed in defense, and she is the target.
“I’m Alora Santo. Sierra Santo sent us to find you because we need your help.” I relax my stance and turn my claws and teeth away. Nudging Meadow and Carmen to do the same in a show that we’re not here to harm her. Only Carmen obeys with a sigh and straightens beside me, while Meds stays in protector mode, sticking to me like glue. I can feel her vibrations as she growls under her breath and refuses to relent.
“I know…… there’s not much that goes on around here that I don’t know about. My birds have very good ears. So, welcome, Miss Alora Santo.” She smiles, showing the whitest teeth in the hints of her pale face, just barely visible from the shade of her hood, and yet it still makes me unsure of her. Every cell in my body is still on alert. Stiff and bristled all over because something in me doesn’t want to trust this stranger yet.