Vulpine Summer

Esme shuddered. She felt cold, wet and numb. Her whole body felt like it was missing, as if she was simply a severed head or detached spirit. Was she dead? No, she was breathing and her ears were hearing. She smelt the scent of sodden earth and summer grass, the stink of flowers and woodland with ever breath. She could distinctly hear the rushing river, the song of night birds and owls. In fact everything was a bit too loud. She definitely wasn't dead. Surprisingly.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking away the blurriness and flinching at how bright everything was, how vivid. Her eyes picked up the slightest of movements. She noticed every twitch of grass or twirl of a leaf. It was all too much and made her head hurt. As she blinked and turned to look towards the river, Esme stiffened when she spotted large oval yellow eyes staring at her. She tried to cry out but, when her mouth opened, a strange bark squeaked out. Esme stilled. Why did she bark? What was that noise?

'Your shape is not natural.' A voice rumbled in an ageless and soft tone.

Esme remained hunkered to the floor, her gaze fixated on the owner of the yellow eyes. She recognised the petal-scale kissed face instantly. It was the River Oak Spirit, a gentle but firm creature with the capability of being as angry as her domain. Esme often sang with her and Cassandra on full moons and would clean out any debris and rubbish during the summer months. She tried to speak again, to acknowledge River Oak, but a simple whine left her mouth.

'Don't speak, Bloxham sprite.' River Oak murmured as she reached out to touch Esme.

Esme grew confused. While River Oak had always been able to speak, although very picky about who to, River Oak's hands had never been that big before.

'Observe yourself.' River Oak commanded.

Esme did and she quickly grew into a panic. Instead of long pale hands, she had brown black paws. Instead of her gangly legs, she they were short and bowed. Instead of clothes, she was covered in soft elegant fur and a strange appendage grew from her behind. A tail. She wasn't human. She was a creature; a fox.

Esme was hyperventilating now. She was cursed. That was the spell Suellen was summoning. Not a death spell but a change spell. But why? Why would Suellen want to turn Esme into a fox?

Thinking of Suellen brought Cassandra's abysmal death flooding back. How much pain she'd been in, how she suffocated, how Esme abandoned her. Tears pricked Esme's foxy eyes and her tiny vulpine body began to shake. Cassandra was dead, Suellen had betrayed them and Esme was now a fox.

'It is not permanent.' River Oak whistled in her sing-song voice. 'The magic only activates when the sun has gone to sleep.'

That was a relief at least. Esme turned her snout to River Oak, wanting to speak but not quite sure how. All she could do was growl, bark and yip.

'River Oak can understand you. Speak with your mind, think loudly. This one will hear.'

Esme did so, glad the voice in her head did not thicken and catch with she sheer pain she felt inside. 'My aunt, my Bloxham Spirit, is dead.'

River Oak bowed her bald head, signalling she'd heard. 'River Oak knows this. This Sprite told me.' She gestured to Absolon who floated towards Esme. He whistled gently and extended an arm to touch Esme's wet black nose. Love swelled in the pit of Esme's stomach. Absolon had not only made sure she survived her plummet but called for help to ensure she was safe. As always, he watched over her.

'Thank you Absolon.'

Absolon whistled, able to understand her, but like every Sprite, was unable to convey his thoughts into words.

'He called River Oak to you, asked for help. She complied. The Bloxham Sprite will not perish in this one's waters.' River Oak pulled away and gazed at the pale Ivory Tower barely visible through the crowding leaves and black sky. 'Someone keeps looking for you. This one shields you from them.'

Esme hunkered down. She didn't know what to do. She felt lost. Her aunt was dead and Suellen was hunting her down. She wasn't done with her yet. There was a reason she wanted Esme as a fox and the spell had been cut down by Absolon's shield. Suellen would want to complete it and finish what she started at the top of the Ivory Tower.

'What should I do?' Esme murmured as her fox throat whined sadly, pushing her soft head into Absolon as he reached out to hold her comfortingly.

'You can stay with this one. She will guard you.'

'You'd do that for me?'

'Bloxham Spirit was a friend to us all. She would eat with Everwood, dance with Tranquil and sing with Oak. She kept this one's river clean and ensured no humans desecrated it. She ensured every Sprite was healthy and respected. She was their friend and carer and you, you are her Sprite. The Bloxham Sprite. And you are in need of a Spirit to protect you from this encroaching evil. The Bloxham Spirit has done the same for their own Sprites many times in the past.'

While Esme wanted to stay, she didn't think it would help. She needed to lift the curse on herself and she had to tell someone of the murder, to make sure Cassandra was buried properly and with dignity and justice was given. Despite being dead, Cassandra still needed Esme's help.

'Can you lift this curse?'

River Oak shook her head slowly. 'It is not spirit magic but human. This one does not know how your magic works. If it were an affliction from a Spirit, she could.'

Esme wasn't surprised. She knew that Wizards altered the raw magic of Spirit's when capturing them.

'I need to get my true shape back and I need to go to Cassandra. I need Suellen Denver to be arrested.' She didn't mean to sound so venomous at the end but it bubbled out without constraint and her voice dripped with hatred for the once respected family friend.

River Oak didn't look too happy at the thought. 'Danger lingers at your nest.'

'I'll get the police to help in the morning and tell them everything. It'll be okay.'

'Stay the night here at least. This one can keep you hidden. So many Wizards search for you.'

Esme was a little surprised. Did so many worry about her? Then again, Cassandra had been brutality murdered and Esme had simply vanished. Others may assume the worst of her. But keeping hidden from Suellen until she could speak and walk like a human seemed like a good idea.

Just as Esme was about to take River Oak up on her offer, she remembered something. Something she'd taken with her in her fall. Her Grimoire.

Esme perked up, peering about the dark grass that glimmered oddly in her vulpine vision. Where had it gone?

'Absolon, have you seen my Grimoire?'

Absolon whistled as he floated aimlessly in the air and closed his eyes. He felt bad for something.

'The Bloxham Sprite's book was taken.' River Oak said.

Esme's stomach sunk and her heart twisted. It was a massive blow. She may only have four spells in there but it was her magic book. The book her aunt worked so hard with her to make. The ink, the pages, the nets, the bonding; all had a memory Esme held dear of Cassandra. She had to get it back.

'Who took it?' Esme asked desperately.

'A male. Red haired. He appeared to be in a hurry.'

Esme wasn't surprised that River Oak didn't stop this thief so didn't bother to ask. Sprites and Spirites were odd creatures and thought differently. While River Oak went out of her way to help Esme, it didn't care for the book, it wasn't important to her so she didn't guard it. Absolon was the same. He'd protect Esme but no one else, even if she asked him.

'I must find him.' Esme declared as she tried to stand. 'He has my Grimoire.'

Her human mind tried to stand up as she normal would but her new fox body wouldn't allow it. She fell instantly. The River Oak sighed sadly and hovered closer, placing her oddly large hands on the soft earth and lowered her head to the floor so the tips of the grass brushed softly against her pearl scales.

'Stay. It is safer with this one.'

'I must find my book! It's important, River Oak.'

'More important than your life?'

Esme hesitated, thinking of the trials she'd gone through to make that book, the hours spent beside Cassandra as she guided Esme with blessing the pages and making the net ink, before she nodded firmly. So many memories were connected to that book and her precious spells were inside. She had to have those spells to protect herself.

'It's important to me. I simply can't let anyone take it from me and I need it to face Suellen.'

River Oak stared unblinkingly, her large eyes doleful and patient. 'This one cannot protect you outside the river.'

'I know. But foxes are swift and agile. I'll manage.'

River Oak wasn't convinced. Her gaze flickered to Absolon as he whistled firmly before she pushed herself away from the ground and dipped her hand into the angry water. She plucked out a smooth stone and kissed it softly, causing it to hum and glow.

'Take this. It will keep spells from locating you.' River Oak held out the stone to show Esme.

She gazed at it, noting how it seemed to ripple with water despite being a grey solid. Spirit magic was strange. River Oak handed it to Absolon.

'Come back to this one when you have achieved your goal. The stone will only protect you so long. If you cannot make it back to this one's domain, put it in water to rekindle the power within it.'

'Thank you River Oak.'

'It is this one's duty to protect the Sprite of the Bloxham Spirit in her stead.'

Esme stood, feeling a little unstable on her four legs and how unfeeling everything was. She wobbled like a new-born fawn, gripping the earth with her claws in an attempt to remain upright. River Oak watched curiously; her head titled and yellow eyes diluted with affection as Esme collapsed, unable to control her weak, foreign and numb body. She reached forward and lightly tapped Esme's back. Esme flinched as she felt something warm flood through her and turned her snout curiously to River Oak.

'This one has helped. The instinct of the noble fox has been instilled.' River Oak said lightly.

While Esme didn't quite like the idea of being made increasingly fox-like, she did appreciate that she now felt more at home in her new shape and no longer numb. The legs didn't feel so odd, the tail alien and the sounds and lights that cluttered her eyes and ears dimmed to a more natural level. She hadn't noticed how loud everything was until now and she didn't mind noticing every slight movement anymore.

Esme stood, this time with certainty, and then listened. Her book was attached to her soul, her sprites and spell united with her in an unbreakable bond. No one could take her book and expect her to never find it. She'd find it anywhere.

Soon she felt the instinct to move east as a gentle tug pulled at her body.

'I know where to go.'

'Return to this one soon, Bloxham Sprite.' River Oak said worriedly.

Esme promised she would and, calling to Absolon, dove into the long grass. She bounded over the earth, surprised by how natural her movements felt. Her paws felt secure in her footing as she scrabbled over rocks and roots and she instinctively twitched her tail to where it needed to be. Strong scents filled her nose. Damp earth and warm air never smelt so strongly before and her ears constantly picked up rustling sounds of mice, squirrels and birds scuttling away at her presence. It was oddly exhilarating. She'd never felt so free before as she loped through long dew-coated grass. She could run madly about and didn't have to worry about people seeing her and what they'd say.

But Esme didn't forget the reason why she was a fox. Who turned her and what they had done. Cassandra needed Esme's help, she needed someone to act out justice and to bring some dignity back to the proud woman. Esme would do that but she needed her Grimoire. There was no way she was going to go back into danger without it, weak spells or not.

She followed the cry of her book, drifting further away from the river and its protective blanket and, by the car roars in the distance and stink of pollution, she assumed she was drawing closer the city. It made sense. The thief would have to live in Lakeside.

'Was it long ago the thief took my Grimoire?' Esme asked Absolon as he drifted after her swiftly.

He whistled in a low and negative tone. It hadn't been long.

Esme belted out of the lining of trees and came to a sudden stop when she was no longer surrounded by grass and the earth wasn't soft and pliable anymore beneath her paws. She was now on tarmac; a road. She peered behind herself as Absolon twirled to a stop aimlessly, noting the massive plots of land and rich houses. She knew where she was now at least; River Oak District, a collection of swerving roads and summer houses for the powerful that followed Oak's curves down to the Tranquil Lake. Glancing upwards, she could see the gentle slope of Ivory Hill and the stiff imposing shape of the Tower. River Oak had taken her far.

Esme flicked her eyes up and stiffened when a light glittered before her and an awful noise clattered frighteningly fast. Something was charging straight for her, blaring a horn angrily that rattled her head. Realising it was an oil-car, Esme yelped and dove back into the long grass, hunkering down just in time as it roared past like some kind of ferocious demon. She shook a little. Cars had never been that frighting before nor so loud and bright.

Absolon drifted down to her and kept himself close, singing softly in encouragement to keep moving. She glanced up at him, gazing at his deep blue eyes, and shook away the fear. She had to be brave. Cassandra was relying on her to catch her murderer and return her dignity. Esme wouldn't let her down.

Standing on her paws and shaking away some of the warm dew that clung to her red fur, Esme began her lope again. She stuck to the side of the road, following its perfect tarmac and painted lines towards the city. She flinched whenever a car roared by, pausing briefly to hide from the noise and lights, before she continued onwards. She knew the moment the River Oak District drew to an end. She was no longer briefly running by wrought iron fences and darting over driveways, jumping from one patch of grass to the next, but now completely in the open. Lines of houses, still richly made, began to appear. They were set side by side, still retaining the own gardens but far smaller.

Esme didn't like it here. She was out in the open, running down a carefully set and meticulously cleaned pavement. Anyone could see her now. She pressed on though, taking comfort that it was terribly early in the morning for anyone to be moving about and that only every other streetlamp was shining in the dark summer night.

Esme went onwards, pushing further into the city as she followed her Grimoire's cries to find her. Absolon kept close, whistling when someone was nearby to alert her, and she dove down dark narrow alleys filled whenever she could. She left the River Oak District and soon entered South Side. This place she was worried about. It was filled with bars and night clubs for the rich, some of a more seedy nature where drugs were served and women, both desperate and empowered, danced with barely anything on. She came to South Side often to dance at the swing clubs in an attempt to find friends and invigorate her social life and knew that, despite it being so late, some of the youths would only just be heading off home.

As she dove deeper, with the houses becoming taller and closer, squashing themselves to make as much room as possible, and turning into shops and clubs, she found she was right. The sounds of music and intoxicated people began to echo in her sensitive ears as the clubs kicked them out and began to close down. Cars were becoming more common and street lamps were now more often alive than not.

Esme kept to the back streets now or waited to be certain she wouldn't be spotted to move on, hunkered down in the shadows and watching with bright nervous eyes. She didn't want to be seen for two reason. One, it would be embarrassing for her. Two, drunken people do daft things when they see wild animals. She didn't want to be chased or have stones chucked at her.

As she slunk in the shadows, clambered over walls and shuffled down alleys, Esme's target was drawing closer. The pulse of her Grimoire and bond of her spells grew stronger and stronger. On the border of of the rich South Side and elegant Gardens, Esme paused. She nestled beside a bench, hunkering below it and using the car as cover. Her Grimoire was close. She gazed up and down the street, a specific street she always avoided. It was filled with gentleman and strip clubs and courtesan houses. While everything was legal, they often had something seedy and illegal going on inside and was just something Esme never agreed with.

The red light road glowed with lights and was filled with drunkards, all slowly filing home of the night, stumbling and laughing. Cars roared by, making her ears flatten themselves against her head protectively. She remained where she was despite the rattling of her head. She had to stay put. Not far from her was her Grimoire. Someone in this cluttered street of sounds and lights was there holding her spell book.

Her eyes flickered back and forth, trying to pick him out amongst the thin flow of moving people, trying to spot her book but it was hard. She knew it was nearby. She knew it was but couldn't see it.

'Absolon! Help me find it please.' She murmured.

Absolon whirled in the air and floated off, making himself difficult to see as he drifted between people. Esme watched him closely until finally he stopped. He wasn't too far down the street and floated above a rather short man talking to a scantily clad woman. Esme stared at him, noting his scruffy poor clothes, his vibrant red hair, his lithe figure and, most importantly, the book he held beneath his arm.

'It's him.' Esme growled in her head. The thief.

She watched at him with burning anger in her eyes. He was talking to a courtesan, that was clear. She kept touching him, fondling with her hair, trying to get him to come into the Red House behind her. The thief wasn't pushing her away, in fact he seemed to be enjoying the attention. His stance was that of a confident man, one who either used to chasing women or used to being chased. She already didn't like him. Not only was he a thief but he clearly condoned the legalisation of the sex trade and actively was involved in it. How dare he touch her book? A lowlife like him?

'I need my book back.' And then it'll need a thorough clean, she thought.

She began to creep her way forward, darting from bench to bench to draw closer. Soon, as she tucked herself between a bin and one of the bushes lining the street. Her ears perked up as she intently listened to the thief.

'Oh come on. I haven't seen you in ages. You always go on about how busy you are these days.' The courtesan cooed. 'Come. Stay. We can spend some time together then you can leave in the morning.' She leaned in close, making Esme have to strain to listen. 'Will be a nice change from all the old men and their vanity.' She laughed softly.

The thief laughed in return, his green eyes dancing. 'No, I can't. I have work.'

'Really? Right now? Even though you're going out of town for so long?'

The thief nodded and fleetingly pressed her hand against his mouth. 'Sorry Elenore.'

She sighed and tugged at her blond hair, pouting softly. 'Well it can't be helped. Come swing by as soon as you're home and don't go visiting any of your other whores first or I'll blacken your eye. I'm number one, remember?' She warned sternly. 'I miss your face, Fox. You don't visit nearly as often as you should.' She said, pulling at his cheek familiarly.

Esme pressed herself closer to the floor, glaring. How often did he see this woman? And how could he afford it? Courtesans were different to the prostitutes and whores of the poor Districts and ports. They were clean, well fed and healthy which meant they were expensive to buy. The thief didn't look like he could afford even the brand shoes she wore, let alone her services.

She watched, sizzling with anger as he pulled away from the blond Elenore and moved further down the street. She hated that this man was touching her precious Grimoire, the book she had made so carefully and lovingly alongside her aunt. She hated it.

Esme followed him swiftly, hoping the cars and shadows and alcohol dulled brains were enough to keep her hidden. She didn't want to grab anyone's attention now, especially when she was so close to her book. Absolon drifted ahead of her, keeping close to the thief as he dove into a nearby alley. Esme fled down it, bounding quietly after her stolen book. The thief strolled on his merry way, whistling softly with light heart and a bounce in his step. It rubbed her the wrong way. He stole her book after witnessing her aunt's murder and living a waking nightmare and he was happy about it? Did he just not care about knife he was twisting in her already gaping wound?

'He doesn't know.' She told herself, trying to push down the rage that she felt. But he shouldn't have taken her book. It wasn't his in the first place.

Trying to ignore the fanning flames of hate, Esme tucked herself beside a metal dustbin at the end of the alley. There she stopped and became quite still. The thief had been stopped by a policeman. Her hear soared. A policeman! Maybe he'd help her, she thought, until she realised she was a fox and a normal human was not going to pick up the signs of a shape-changing spell. She hunkered down and waited, urging Absolon to return to her incase either one of them noticed the warping shape in the air.

'I've done nothin' officer sir.' The thief said calmly.

'Apart from steal a wizard's Grimoire.' Esme thought bitterly.

The policeman didn't seem to be in an accusatory stance though and lifted up a piece of paper. 'Have you seen this woman?'

The thief peered at the paper curiously before he shook his head. 'Nope. Awful big price on her head. What's she done?

'She is dangerous. Killed the Grand Wizard. A murderer and a Wizard herself. If you see her, don't approach her, just call the police. The money offered is for information on this incredibly dangerous individual only.'

Esme's heart soared. It had to be about Cassandra. Someone was already trying to bring justice to her aunt and her body was safe. Suellen was being hunted. That was a relief.

The thief tilted his hat in polite acknowledgement, his posture and expression not giving away any kind of care at the news. 'Yeah, I'll do that sir. Shame about the Grand Wizard. Good luck huntin'.'

The police let the thief pass and Absolon soared after him, drifted behind like an invisible shadow. Esme stayed where she was, watching the policeman as he stuck the flier on lamp-post before he moved on.

Esme came out of her shadow, eager to follow the thief who was turning at the end of the road now, but she gazed up at the flier, wanting to feel some kind of justice at Suellen's face plastered on a bounty.

But it wasn't Suellen Denver's name scrawled on the printed paper nor her face that stared down at Esme. It was herself, Esme Dupont.

Esme gaped at the paper, pale and unable to breathe as she read it over and over again. Her cracked life shattered in that moment and her waking nightmare sharply turned into living hell.