B. Larson - Shifting

“I wonder what the Preacher would say about your investigations.”

She drew herself up and her cheeks showed a slight tremor. “Well, go ask him! Go find him, boy, before it is too late for him. I think you are stronger than he, I think you may pass barriers where he failed. Bring him back, and slay the Hag who will slay us all if she can. Hags often take prisoners, and I think you can free them.”

I shook my head, eyeing one of the potions she’d given me. “How can I trust the very thing that seeks to destroy us to save me? Everything that bubbles up from these supernatural fissures is evil.”

She laughed at me again. She leaned forward and spoke with infinite patience, as though I were her slowest student. “Don’t you see, Gannon? You and I are the same. Neither one of us is untouched. There is no more black and white in our world, only many subtle shades of gray.”

“No-” I began, but she raised her foul finger to stop me.

“No, before you speak, think back upon the first moment we met today. Did you not want to draw your blade and cut me with it? Is that normal? Is that the Gannon of three months ago? Were you a murderer then, or only now, with new dark thoughts in your mind, which has been darkened by the shifting. You are no changeling yet-but in a way, you are. You are still on the same side, but you have changed , you can’t deny it. You are no longer pure. You are a shade of gray. And so am I.”

“So, you are saying that we have already lost.”

“Far from it! We are adapting, changing to meet these new requirements in our new supernatural world. Much as in any time, you win your battles by gathering your forces and your allies and by careful preparation. And when we take the field, we will be victorious over the Hag. She will not bring back whatever horrors of the past her mind plans.”

I gazed at her flatly for a long pause. Her words weren’t to my liking, but neither were they irrational. I was torn between a devil I knew and an unknown one. I thought about the Captain and the Preacher and made up my mind.

“I’ll go,” I said, but I put up my hand to stop her toothy grin. “But remember this: I’m not going because I’m on your mission. I’m going to find the others you’ve sent before me. And, I’m not about to fall into whatever trap you may have designed, because I’m not your creature. I only hope for your sake that they live still.”

Her grin was subdued, reduced to a smoldering tiny glimmer of a smile. “Very well, and I wish you luck.”

“One more thing,” I said. “You are going to drink one of these potions before I go.”

Her face fell. “What?” she sputtered. “You won’t have enough then. You need them all to get those two back out.”

I shook my head. “The way I look at it, if everything you say is true, they would be dead anyway if they needed air down there all this time. I only need enough to get down there and check it out.”

“It’s an unnecessary waste,” she began, and argued at length. I held my ground, and in the end, she snatched the bottle I offered at random out of the ones she had given me and tossed it down. She glared at me, gestulating with her arms in exasperation.

“There, are you happy? You’ve gotten me to waste a half-week of work and possibly killed one of the last good men in Redmoor.”

I nodded slowly, watching her. She didn’t seem to be getting any more hideous. “I’m happy.”

“When you drink one, have a care,” she said, “it takes a few minutes to work. A brief span, but long enough to be a problem if you are in a hurry. I think it is due to the changes the liquid must work upon your system.”

“I feel I was right to exile you and your dangerous work to this place,” I told her. “I really hope your work helps us. But I don’t trust it, and will not, until it has been proven.” And maybe not even then, I added to myself, silently.

“My work will pass your test, boy,” she said. “One last thing.”

“What?”

She looked, for once, very hesitant. She chewed at her lower lip and sucked in a breath before going on. “I’ve seen some things on the lakeshore, not like the usual ones we have around here. I believe that shift line, that barrier, extends out into the lake itself and she feeds on it. What I mean to say is, keep on your guard if someone approaches you and says nothing in response to your challenge.”

“I always keep on my guard, but thanks for the warning.”

I exited into the fresh air again and breathed deeply. I gave a shudder that was more from relief than from the cold breeze coming off the lake. I turned north around the building and headed toward the lakeshore. Like most big lakes, Lake Monroe had a thin brown sandy beach that wound around it. I passed the little private jetties and the Marina and walked along the beach itself. A squad of ducks quacked at me in annoyance and swam away.

I thought about going back to the center, but decided against it. Maybe I could get Vance to come with me, but probably not. He had not wanted to go visit the pharmacy, why would he want to drink some foul concoction and attempt to drown himself under the lake while looking for a devilish Hag? I also didn’t want to wait any longer. Arriving an hour or a minute too late to help would worse than useless.

I stopped at a nice little sailboat that had survived the storm. I was a fair sailor in calm weather, and one quick way to check out that strange light in the lake would be to glide over it and have a look. I decided against it, however. How would that be better than swimming down? If something was down there, it would see me as an object floating above, not really the safest position to be in. I sighed, not knowing really what to do. I wasn’t sure what it was that I was going after and the lack of information was critically important. I wasn’t even sure that the potions would work, or where the Preacher was, or if this wasn’t just some elaborate hoax. Maybe these two hags had cut a deal to send each other gullible fools every Tuesday as raw materials.

I drew out my saber and checked my pistol, which was loaded and ready to go. I sensed I might be needing it. When I fished in my pocket for extra bullets, I found the Hag’s stone. I drew it out, and knew it for what it was, a magic rock. Had she left it for me, or had she made it by accident? I decided I might as well use it, and spent a few minutes stroking the edge of my weapon. Orange and white sparks popped as I did so, and when I was done, I knew it was much sharper than before.

My boots kicked up wet sand and I trudged down the beach leaving the sailboat behind. Soon I was leaving Redmoor proper and getting into the rental cabin area where summer people came up to spend a week or two on the lake. I passed one log cabin mock-up that I knew inside had a modern kitchen and central air. Just after I’d passed it, I heard a screen door creak open and then slam shut.

“Hello?” I called.

Nothing.

I stopped on the beach, eyeing the cabins nearby. I saw no one come out. It could have been a backdoor, or it could have been the wind. Some of the windows were broken, perhaps from the recent storm or perhaps from worse things. Thinking about Wilton’s words, I decided against investigating and continued plodding down the beach. I figured I had only about a mile to go.

After another few hundred yards, I chanced a look over my shoulder. I froze in my tracks. A figure was on the beach behind me, following. It looked like a normal man, but he moved with some difficulty, limping. He seemed to be missing a shoe on that foot, although at a distance of a few hundred yards, I was hard to be sure.

“Hey there,” I called out to him. I expected him to halt or wave or shout back. He did none of these things but rather continued to approach with that odd, stumbling gait. I watched him for a few seconds more, and then decided I didn’t really want to get a closer look at him. I hurried on up the beach.