Vulpine Summer

Esme was unhappy. She was unhappy for multiple reasons. The first was about the two witches and the promise she had bound herself to. That storm Spirit had been powerful, on par with Lake Tranquil, and binding herself to it had been terrifying. What was worse was she knew she was going to regret it. As she watched the two witches fuss about the hut, bringing out the suspicious jar with the odd butterfly and several pots of herbs, her trust in Fox’s judgement was dwindling. Either they were going to die here or they were going to condemn a town to a plague of undead as they couldn’t speak up about the origin. It irritated her.

The second was about the filth and mud covering her, the sweat trickling down her back and how desperately she wanted a bath.

The third was Fox himself. Despite filling her mind with the witches and watching them mix together herbs into a weird paste with morbid curiosity, her thoughts flickered now and then to Fox. She just couldn’t help herself but think of his stupid expression when he came up to find her in their room. She remembered how he called for her through the door, urging her to come out. She hadn’t wanted to. She was horrifically embarrassed and didn’t know how to face him or explain what on earth came over her. But then he said something odd; that he believed she had been angry at him. That she had wanted to dock him.

That comment made her stiffen before opening the door in disbelief. Seeing him and his stupid expression, calm as could be, made her stomach and heart plummet instantly. It was like he slapped her. It had been obvious what she intended to do, even if it was against her better judgment, yet there was nothing from him. Not a blush, not a nervous action; just the claim she was so enraged she wanted to hurt him.

She hated how that made her feel. She remembered as she got ready for the horrible trip into the marsh, she patted her chest and hips. She looked at herself in the mirror and pulled her hat off to let her hair tumble free. She tried to feel female but she just couldn’t. Was that the problem? Did Fox just not see her as a woman? That nearly being kissed by her didn’t so much as fluster him? Or that he could never think to kiss her? It depressed her and her depression grew worse when their trek began. She watched how Catriona swayed, how her golden hair shone, how her small body moved with ease, how her beautiful face lit up so nicely. She watched how Fox observed her, how he smiled so quickly and spoke so easily with her; no grumpiness, no long silences. Meanwhile Esme kept falling in the dirt, inelegant and gangly. Every time Fox came to her, his expression increasingly concerned, just made it all the worse. The embarrassment shifted. No longer was she ashamed of what she tried to do; now she was ashamed that she even tried. Fox didn’t see her as a woman. He did in Catriona though. She stood no chance against the small, curvey blond and, for some reason, it made her heart hurt.

But all that didn’t matter right now and she did her best to focus on the growing danger in front of her. She glanced at Fox, who was observing with a curious expression. A need to keep him out of trouble grew so she clutched Absolon and touched her whistles. If necessary, she had the god of the Everwood at her call. She doubted either Witch had a strong enough Spirit to take him on. She’d protect him.

Esme watched as Catriona sprinkled a collection of crushed herbs and Glenna pour the contents of her slurry upon the strange blue butterfly. It glittered oddly and shone, absorbing each drop of the slop and each flake of herb. It made Esme shuffle her feet. The magic within it was growing stronger.

‘What is this?’ Fox asked, his voice booming in the heavy silence.

Catriona grinned in triumph and glanced at Glenna. Glenna sighed.

‘It’s a lock, lad.’ Glenna said gruffly. ‘One we’ve been makin’ for a long time now.’

‘We would’ve completed it if my whistles hadn’t been taken.’ Catriona chirped.

Esme narrowed her eyes in suspicion and she squeezed Absolon gently.

‘A lock for what?’ Fox asked, echoing Esme’s thoughts.

‘Soon. First we need to complete it.’ Glenna said gruffly and stepped aside. ‘You finish the deed, lass.’

Catriona shone with happiness which, for the first time, made Esme doubt herself for a moment and consider maybe she was wrong. Maybe Catriona wasn’t the evil Witch the Ivory Tower had taught her to assume.

Catriona rattled her whistle about until she pulled out a particular one; white and warped. She raised it to her puffy lips and blew.

A soundless tune erupted from the whistle, sweeping through Esme and making her whole being tingle. It was strange how she could feel the song, rather than hear it. It made her curious just what Catriona had called. She shuffled closer to Fox, ready to grab him and run.

Nothing happened. Catriona furrowed her brow and glanced at Glenna. ‘Is he sleeping?’

‘Try again. This one is stubborn.’

Catriona did and the same tuneless song ripped out the whistle. This time something reacted. Out of the wood of the table, a small white light grew. A tiny head popped out, followed by arms, a torso and legs. Standing only a few inches high, was the tiniest man Esme had ever seen. His skin was the purest of white, his eyes large and blue and his hair was twisted grass and daisies, all knotted together.

Esme could feel this was a Spirit, she just couldn’t tell what. While Tempest oozed the strength of a violent storm, his power only whispered and caresses softly.

The little man stared up at Catriona. ‘This one is here now. What does the lady require?’

Catriona held out her hands, letting the tiny Spirit clambered into her palms. She held him above the jar holding the docile, magic-infused butterfly.

‘Please do what you have done before. Bless this butterfly with health, Spirit Thyme.’

Esme furrowed her brow as she quickly realised what this Spirit was. He was of health and wellness and could end plagues and horrific sickness with ease. It made Esme tilt her head in curiosity. Could it be these Witches really did intend to end this plague and not encourage it?

The Spirit bobbed his head slowly, leaned over the edge of her hand and shook his head. Tiny specs of light fell from his curled hair and gently fell onto the butterfly below. The fell upon it, clinging like snow, before suddenly they were absorbed into its body. In an instant, the butterfly shone brightly and its vibrant blue colours shifted into a pale white.

Catriona gasped in excitement. ‘Thank you kindly, Spirit Thyme.’

Spirit Thyme bobbed in acceptance, yawned languidly, then vanished in a bright burst of light.

Catriona was grinning wildly now and even Glenna’s mouth was twisting into a relieved smile.

‘We’ve done it, Glenna.’ Catriona squeaked and sealed the jar quickly as the now-white butterfly began to ping against the glass. ‘Can we go see him now?’

Glenna eyes turned to Esme and Fox and the usual glare came to them, hard and threatening, before she nodded slowly.

‘Let’s end this plague.’

Catriona clasped the jar to her chest and darted for the door, snatching up Fox’s hand quickly to drag him out behind her. Esme barely managed to ignore the stab of jealousy in her chest and the pain it caused and slipped out with Absolon when Glenna towered over her, urging her to go without a word.

Off they went into the marsh again, this time Esme had no idea where to. The trudged around the mildew lake, high on the steep banks that slipped into its midge-filled waters. Esme noticed something large sloshing about in the water and spotted several scaley ridged backs. She was curious about what they were but didn’t want to ask. Pride prevented that.

Catriona guided them with ease and kept Fox close to her with every step. The pair talked brightly, which twisted Esme’s chest horribly.

Ignore it, Esme. It will lead to nothing good.

She listened to her own advice. She couldn’t think about her reactions or why they were so strong. She didn’t want to think about what it meant.

Soon they pulled away from the lake and eventually, things began to take a nasty turn. The grass was grey and reeds were bent low and the stink of the bog had shifted into something far more pungent and rotting. The trees no longer had their leaves and bark was peeling off, barely being held on by thick strings of mucus. The cries of birds and beast began to quieten and Esme noticed a small reed bird on the floor, its body riddled with maggots and legs long rotted but its beak still opening and closing, its dead congealed eye swivelling in its socket. She covered her mouth but it didn’t help. The stink was horrendous and her eyes kept picking out more animals; all long dead, rotten yet still moving.

Fox and Catriona were silent now and moving slowly through the dead lands. Absolon whistled miserable and shuffled around to bury his face into Esme’s chest; unable to look upon the destruction of the unnatural plague. Esme desperately wanted to turn back. She knew they were nearing its source which meant she and Fox was in danger of contracting it. She stared at the back of Fox, observing his broadness and strength. She couldn’t let it happen to him. She couldn’t let him die.

Just as Esme made to rush forward and grab Fox, Esme’s shoulder was arrested by Glenna’s massive hand.

‘You wanted to see, aye? Well, you’re gonna see it.’ Glenna said firmly and glanced about. ‘If this works, you won’t get the sickness. If it doesn’t….well we’re all dead. My wards to enclose the worst of it are breakin’ and the Wizards in this area ain’t strong enough to fight ‘im. This plague will spread far before he is put down.’

Esme stared at Glenna before she continued on. Her mind was slowly putting together the pieces, slowly figuring out what he was, so, by the time they reached a clearing, Esme wasn’t too surprised by what she found.

A huge bear, massive, was in the middle of the clearing. It was clearly dead. Fur was peeling off, one its eyes were long gone and the other congealed, its right leg and virtually no flesh or fat covered it, revealing the muscle and bone beneath and strange white mushrooms were growing outs from its head and back; anywhere where the fur was gone.

Esme stared with horror. She knew what this was, she recognised the power oozing from it and the sickness Absolon protected her from with a gentle bubble. It was a Spirit of sickness and plague; a strong one at the that. One close to god-hood. Why hadn’t it been slain by the Towers yet? A Spirit like this reaching god-hood would be catastrophic.

‘What is this?’ Fox asked, his voice muffled behind his hand.

‘It is a Spirit of plague.’ Esme answered for him. ‘One that should not exist. It should’ve been hunted down long ago.’

Glenna stiffened behind her while Catriona’s eyes narrowed.

‘It is why everything around here is dead. It’s killing it by its presence.’ Esme continued stoutly. ‘If I wasn’t bound by Tempest, I’d be telling the Tower about this.’

‘Wizard.’ Glenna hissed, her hand coming down on Esme’s shoulder uncomfortably hard and twisted Esme around, causing her to let go of Absolon. ‘You’re a bloody Wizard!’

Esme winced, biting her lip to keep herself from crying out. The strength of Glenna was enourmous and rage was flickering about her eyes. Esme noticed Fox stiffened beside and his gloved fingers flexed

‘Glenna!’ Catriona shouted. ‘Don’t hurt her!’

Glenna let her go and Fox pulled her away from the mountainous woman. Catriona’s eyes flickered onto Esme in desperation.

‘Look, we know this Spirit brings plagues of undead. It’s why we make him this!’ She held out the jar, causing the white butterfly to flutter about madly. ‘This is a safecharm. All Witches know how to make one. It nullifies the Spirits effects surrounding them. It stops storms and never-ending winters and summers. It keeps the Spirits harmless and the people safe.’

‘It’s a plague Spirit! By Tower law, no plague Spirit are allowed to exist! They should either be ended or captured with a net and turned into a spell! They’re too dangerous!’ Esme snapped.

Catriona flushed and her eyes widened as if she had been slapped. ‘And who are we to decide what should and shouldn’t live! We’ve no right to enslave others and no right to kill them!’ She shook the jar. ‘This way a Spirit doesn’t have to die nor be enslaved!’

‘There’s no way of stopping it!’ Esme snapped hotly. ‘The Towers would be doing it otherwise!’

‘Ha!’ Glenna bellowed and drew her massive body tall. ‘The Towers care only for the power and station they get by keepin’ themselves needed by the rich! There are ways, girly. Many ways to keep Spirits harmless and safe. But you bloody lot, high up in your Towers and nose buried in books, refuse to listen to anything we Witches, we unlearned and savage lot, have to say!’

Esme flushed. That couldn’t be true. The Towers only had the wellness of people at heart. They did what had to be done to keep people save from the ocean of dangerous magic that surrounded Spirits and Gods. But then she recalled what her own aunt had done; disregarded the rules of the Towers to allow the previous Everwood Spirit become a God. She hid him away instead of killing or binding him.

Catriona whirled from Esme and approached the rotting bear. ‘Spirit Nightshade. I’ve brought the safecharm.’ She murmured.

The jar was opened with a slight pop and, as if knowing exactly what it was created to do, the butterfly fluttered out from its prison and drifted over to the plague Spirit. It nestled on the spouted mushrooms on its head and flashed brightly. The effect was almost instantaneous. The stink of rotting flesh and death subsided, the undead gurgling of creatures stopped and the strange oozing power faded away.

Esme was astounded. She hadn’t really believed Catriona’s claim that a Spirit’s magic could be sealed away. She had hoped she lied because, if she hadn’t, then the Towers really did ignore this knowledge. They ignored ways to let Spirits live without killing or binding them.

Catriona smiled instantly and hopped away. ‘It’s worked. The plague will fade away now.’

‘But it’ll only come back.’ Esme stammered, her faith in the Towers swayed. There wasn’t a way to seal a Spirit’s magic other than binding it to nets and wards. There just wasn’t. ‘That Spirit is bordering on God-hood. It’ll kill thousands!’

‘And we’ll guard him, Wizard.’ Glenna snarled. ‘I’ve been guarding him for years, bonded to him too. He’s caused no problem when the safehcarm works. The only reason the plague got as bad as it did was because you bloody Wizards took away Catriona’s whistles!’ Glenna bellowed. ‘If we could get on and make that safecharm then no one in the town would’ve pointlessly died.’

Esme stared at the bear, watching as he sluggishly pulled himself up. It was strange to watch, as if something was puppeteering it.

‘This one thanks you both, Witches of the Bog. This one can now exist some time longer.’ A voice gurgled.

Catriona grinned brightly. ‘It’s okay. I’m really sorry it took so long.’

The bear bobbed its rotting head. ‘This one could wait.’

And that was it. The plague Spirit turned and meandered off, lumbering off between the fat, dead trees with bits of skin peeling off his back.

Fox, who had been very quiet throughout the whole confrontation, finally spoke up. ‘So, the plague’s gone, right?’

Catriona shook her head. ‘It never really goes but everything outside of a one metre range is safe.’

‘And you didn’t make it?’

‘No. Spirit Nightshade does.’

‘So, the bear’s the plague?’

‘The fungai is Spirit Nightshade. The bear is his host.’

‘And dead.’

‘Yeah.’ Catriona’s smile widened. ‘But I told you you could trust me! I told you we were fixing the sickness!’

‘Yeah.’ Fox grumbled then smiled, clearly a little confused about the whole event. ‘Yeah, you did.’

‘And now we’ll keep up our end of the bargain.’ Catriona’s eyes narrowed on Glenna. ‘Won’t we?’

Glenna’s weathered face hardened. ‘I ain’t touchin’ a Wizard.’

Esme flushed and her mouth opened to retort back but Fox had hurried to her and arrested her hand. His glare had intended to be the thing to shut her up but it was his skin touching hers, his long, bony fingers wrapping around her wrist with ease, that made her voice and anger die within seconds. Her face burned and she tried her best not to look at him. It would make her heart flutter more painfully than it already did.

‘Look, I don’t get whatever you two are talkin’ about and I don’t get why Wizards hate Witches and Witches hate Wizards. But we had a deal, Glenna. We stuck to ours, despite whatever beef Esme has with you, so you honour yours.’

Glenna eyes heated with rage and her lips thinned but she nodded all the same. ‘Fine. I do whatever magic you want.’ She said stiffly then turned and stormed off.

Catriona bounced forward. ‘Come with us. We’ll sort out that glamour for you.’

She vanished ahead of them, gone like a golden flash, and leaving Esme and Fox to follow.

The pair of them glanced at each other. She hated the smug expression taking his face.

‘So.’ He began.

‘So.’

‘I was right.’

‘Yes. You were.’

Fox slapped her back hard. ‘You need to trust me more.’

‘Trusting you has bound me to never talk about this plague Spirit on pain of being eaten by a giant owl!’ Esme snapped.

‘It’s fine though. That Spirit is under control.’ Fox said, waving his hand nonchalantly.

‘It’s going to turn into a God.’ Esme said stubbornly.

‘It’s fine for now and those Witches cured that undead sickness. They’ll deal with it.’ Fox laughed and stepped ahead. ‘Let’s get you glamoured then we can get out of here. Not far until we reach the Granite Tower.’

Esme hummed softly and followed only after she turned to look back at where the plague Spirit had gone. She looked at the trees, decaying and oozing puss, and then at a squirrel covered in flies that no longer so much as twitched. Witches kept Spirits alive and free but at the cost of them being more of a risk of harming people and their surroundings. The Towers controlled and contained Spirits, but at the cost of choosing what was allowed to live and enslavement.

Esme pulled out her Grimoire as Absolon floated down to whistle in front of her. Her head was confused. All her life, she had been taught the way of the Towers was law and just and that the Witches were chaotic and dangerous. But today, she’d been shown a glimmer that maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe the Witches did something right with their magic, unlike the Wizards. They tried to give Spirits and Gods a chance to live longer and freely. She felt a little bad for assuming Glenna and Catriona were villains just because they were Witches.

But as she thought of Catriona and her bright smile and golden hair, jealousy and hate stabbed. She still didn’t like that Witch.

Esme stiffened when Fox was suddenly in front of her, peering up at her curiously. Instantly her face was on fire at the closeness and images of nearly kissing him, of him holding her hand, flashed violently in her mind’s eye.

‘You good?’ He asked curiously, his green eyes flashing with light concern.

Esme smiled thinly and swallowed her beating heart. ‘Yes.’

‘Then let’s get a move on.’ He encouraged and walked ahead.

Esme packed away her Grimoire and pulled Absolon into her chest, gripping the familiar warmth. She followed Fox, watching as he rubbed the back of his strong neck and swatted away flies. She frowned deeply at the reaction that grew inside her; the warmth and swell of happiness.

She glanced down at Absolon to keep herself from feeling so stupid and spied the Eye floating about in his body. Guilt began to gnaw.

Blackmail.

She looked back up at Fox, at how he spoke to Catriona then looked back at Esme with an intent expression. It made her face warm up in seconds. The guilt gnawed further; darkly, like poison. She looked down at the floating Eye again and, very slowly, the guilt grew too much. As she looked up to watch how he spoke to Catriona again, she realised why he was so open with her. He didn’t dislike her. He didn’t have the blackmail of his future being crushed over his head.

Something clicked and a desire to have the quick friendship that Catriona and Fox had grew intensely. The desire to have something more than just a bond of blackmail with Fox. A desire to be seen as someone reliable, someone he could trust. It broke her and a strange sort of madness took her.

She’d give back the Eye to him. She’d break the blackmail.

She just hoped that it would give her what she wanted. A genuine bond with Fox. Something she could build upon. Something that could maybe make him see her as a woman than an object of dislike.

But she dreaded the opposite would happen. He’d leave her, alone in the middle of nowhere, and the corruption of her memories and her death would swiftly follow.