My body melts, and I crouch on the forest floor, breathing hard from the effort of holding my bird-form. I creep forward on silent footfalls. I learned centuries ago how to move through the woods undetected. When you’re hunting and all that stands between you and the meat you need to survive the winter is your ability to step quietly, you learn fast or perish. I’m a survivor.
I’m lucky—my target is straight ahead. I creep around a bush and peek from behind a thick-trunked pine tree.
She sits cross-legged on the ground facing the mountain. I’m positioned so I can see her profile—her uplifted chin, her raised chest, her unbound hair cascading in a glorious river down her back. Her eyes are closed, and she sways gently from side to side, as if she is underwater and waves push her to and fro. Three candles in a triangle formation before her illuminate her face.
I notice all this in the second before my eyes are drawn to the object between the candles. I stare, fascinated, captivated.
Her necklace lies in a bundle on the ground. Last night I had glimpses of it in the dark, but my preoccupation didn’t allow for a close inspection. Now, however, the necklace is clearly lit by candlelight.
Or, it would be visible if it weren’t completely and utterly covered by magic. Bright orange strands lie so thickly over the surface of the amulet that it appears to me as a ball of orange twine. I have no idea what the pendant is—it could be a diamond or a locket or a plastic rhinestone for all I know. The magic writhes and twists with great agitation.
She keeps her eyes closed but speaks in a powerful, authoritative voice.
“Spirits! Come forth!”
I’m lucky—my target is straight ahead. I creep around a bush and peek from behind a thick-trunked pine tree.
She sits cross-legged on the ground facing the mountain. I’m positioned so I can see her profile—her uplifted chin, her raised chest, her unbound hair cascading in a glorious river down her back. Her eyes are closed, and she sways gently from side to side, as if she is underwater and waves push her to and fro. Three candles in a triangle formation before her illuminate her face.
I notice all this in the second before my eyes are drawn to the object between the candles. I stare, fascinated, captivated.
Her necklace lies in a bundle on the ground. Last night I had glimpses of it in the dark, but my preoccupation didn’t allow for a close inspection. Now, however, the necklace is clearly lit by candlelight.
Or, it would be visible if it weren’t completely and utterly covered by magic. Bright orange strands lie so thickly over the surface of the amulet that it appears to me as a ball of orange twine. I have no idea what the pendant is—it could be a diamond or a locket or a plastic rhinestone for all I know. The magic writhes and twists with great agitation.
She keeps her eyes closed but speaks in a powerful, authoritative voice.
“Spirits! Come forth!”
This website participates in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program. The program enables us to earn money by linking to amazon.com and affiliated websites.