Penelope Fletcher: The Demon Girl

I picked the straightest line through the trees as I could, and started off, my boots slapping muddy puddles riddling the way. In the early morning the forest was empty of human presence apart from its familiar visitor in me, but it was creepy now, like someone was watching.

A short while later it was clear I'd done something wrong. The trees were getting denser, and more closely packed together, like I was going further into the forest. I stopped and spun around. My first instinct was to go back. I was walking in a straight line, and I could go back to the slope base and start again. I had been walking in a straight line, hadn't I? Those nasty curls of fear tickled my insides again. I started to walk back, but stopped after less than half a mile. I scanned the ground. Horrified at what I did not see, I knelt down to get a better look. To my dismay I could not see any footprints or other evidence I had passed this way. All Clerics were master trackers, bested only by shifters who changed into predators like big cats. As a Disciple I had been trained in the basics of tracking, of course, and at that moment I felt the bitter sting of failure. What I should have done the moment I felt lost is literally retraced my steps and started again. But I hadn't done that. I'd let the fear get one up on me, and plunged into the forest without thinking. I needed to calm down and focus. I figured if I went high, I could see further around me.

I strode back a pace, and took a running jump at a broad oak trunk. I reached the lowest branch starting five feet or so above my head, and dug my fingertips into the bark. Tree climbing was easy, and in no time I hauled my body over the highest bough that would hold my weight. I balanced on my toes, hands to knees. Exhaling my breath was visible plumes of wispy vapor, and for a few seconds I chugged circular globules to amuse myself.

It was cold, it being the end of autumn, but the cooler days didn't bother me. It was a welcome change since my body had always run hot.

The clouds on the horizon were dark with rain, darker than the sky now. They rolled low and blocked out the coming light. There was a thick hum in the air, a sure sign a storm was blowing in. My heart did a jig in my chest, and my mood picked up, for I simply loved a good storm. The clean scent of crushed needle leaf on the breeze was refreshing, and a nice change to the ashy smell that saturated everything at the Temple.

Getting back on track, I looked around in a wide circle. I bit my lip and looked the circle again, slower this time. I was in trouble. I couldn't see the Wall or the end of the forest. I must have run much further than I usually did before I'd fallen. Then I'd walked even further in the wrong direction.

I stood, clasped the branch overhead and skipped to the edge of my perch. Loosening my hold above, I pushed back with my foot and both my arms stretched back. I arced into a crescent and was momentarily suspended in the air. The crown of my head raced to catch my arms as my legs coiled and flew overhead. The world was crazy for a second; up was down, down was up. Pointed feet followed my legs around and then I was falling. Feet a foot apart, my knees bent to absorb impact as I landed, arms extended either side of me for balance.

That bit of fun helped chase away some of my distress. I was good at identifying my emotions and could control them with distractions if I caught them early enough. There were several notable times I'd allowed myself to fall into foul rages, where I'd thrown things about and punched walls, laughing as I did so. The most frequent were bouts of manic happiness where everything was funny. The worst and hardest to control were the dark humors. Sometimes the twisted things my imagination threw at me were only scary, and off-colour to think about once I'd snapped out of it. I'd always been odd, different to the girls around me, and those times where I'd lost control made some people suspicious and afraid of me.

Oh yes, I'd become good at controlling myself.

Back down below the forest canopy it was dark. The sunrays had not broken through the leaves, and the understory had a monochromatic look. Silver bark, grey leaves and black spaces between. I pushed some hair out of my eyes that had gotten loose from my makeshift bun, and breathed in. Smells of the forest, nutty sycamore maples and sweet night flowers releasing the last of their fragrance, were strangely comforting. I was deep into wild and civilization was far behind, but I knew panicking would only make things worse.

A faint rustle ahead made me pause and swiftly reconsider panicking. Another, louder rustle made me tense. A tingle of fear ran down the back of my legs. The forest was full of animals of course, deer, badgers and more birds than I could name, though the most popular was the raven.

The thought I'd been consciously avoiding until now, making me want to lie where I was then die quietly and run shrieking in the opposite direction, was that I was in demon territory.

A flicker of light illuminated the leaf edges in the darkness. I heard a low murmur of sound, hushed and urgent. Instinctively crouching down, I crawled forward and was scared. Voices. Demons spoke, of course. They were bloodthirsty and evil, but intelligent too. Like a rational individual, I could have gone the other way, but then I would not know what kind of demon was close by. If they were shifters with tracking skills, I was no better than a dead body anyway. Soon, I saw the pale glare of artificial light and inched closer, keeping myself low to the floor. My knees scrapped sharp twigs, hard stones. The prickly leaves of low grown shrubs stroked my cheeks, and forehead, as I pushed forward. My breathing sounded too loud in my ears, and I tried to breathe shallow. I kept my moves small and stealthy, like I was taught in Subterfuge when learning how to track demons for the element of surprise.

Ahead of me, there was a small clearing and three bodies in it.

Two were human, Clerics, identified by the peculiar hooded crimson blazers they wore with black tails that flowed to their knees. The wide, pointed hood could cover your face to the nose, and the well-known white-eye sigil stitched on their breast pockets, commanded fear from demons and submission from Disciples. The one facing me was female with her hood down. She was skeletal with mud colored hair and pinched lips, but would be attractive if you like women with up-tilted eyes and a mean-looking disposition. The other had his back to me and was a well-built male. Small but compact with big arms and calves.

To my horror the feeling that surged through me was not relief. These Clerics would take me back to the compound, and I would get into heaps of trouble having to somehow explain the hole in the Wall. But that versus being caught by a demon and killed was preferable, right? No. I sat in my hiding place and quaked in my boots. My stomach twisted into a double knot and my teeth chattered, because something bad was happening.

The third body in the clearing was a demon. A kind I had never seen before in my life, meaning she could only be one thing. Green skin damp and scarlet hair wild, the fairy was sprawled across the forest floor in a tangle of her own gawky limbs. It was clear to me she was terrified. Her vibrant skin looked sallow and her eyes blood shot. A tazer probe buzzed in her shoulder blade, another on her upper thigh. She was crying, a pitiful high keen that was so frail I could barely hear it.

The Lady Cleric twisted the probe deeper into the fairy's leg. "Why do you spy on the Academy?" she asked with chilling calm.

The fairy-girl cringed back. "I mean you no harm."

"And here I thought a fairy could tell no lie."

"I can't." The high chime of her voice shook on each word. "I speak the truth. Let me go, you don't understand what will happen. My brothers-"