Cynful
Page 32
Eventually the road forked, but that wasn’t what surprised her. What did was the simple glass sitting right at the juncture, half full of what appeared to be water. Cyn stared at it. “The glass is half full, huh?”
Fuck it. She was thirsty. She shrugged, sniffed it to make sure it really was water, picked it up and drank it, then carefully placed the glass right back where she’d found it.
She took a deep breath and studied the two paths. One seemed similar to the one she was already on, rocky and dirty with the occasional scraggly tree to add some visual interest. Bland, sort of boring, in no way like the other path.
The other path, if you could even call it that, appeared chock full of thorn bushes and sharp rocks. Even the air down that path appeared different, full of menace.
“Gee, Captain Obvious. I wonder which path I should take.” She’d been a fearless adventurer in her Dungeons & Dragons days. She was pretty sure she could guess where this little side trip was going. She gritted her teeth and covered her boobs with her hands. There were some places she really didn’t want scratched all to hell and gone, thank you very much.
The moment she set her foot on the dark path, she realized she’d made the right choice. “OW! Mother puss-bucket!”
After an eternity of painful steps, her flesh gouged in places that would make sitting down very difficult, the path finally opened up. Blue skies and a meadow full of wildflowers greeted her weary gaze. In the middle of that meadow a child knelt, crying. Over her stood a man, his hands at his sides, his expression pinched. The child cringed as the man raised his voice, his words muffled by the distance between them. He raised his fist into the air and shook it.
Cyn’s eyes narrowed. That man was bullying the child. Without even having to think about it she reached behind her and grabbed hold of a thorny branch, breaking it off the bush. She darted in front of the child and held the branch in front of her like a sword. “Hold it! Leave the girl alone.”
The man’s searing white eyes burned into hers. “You do not believe I justly chastise her?”
Cyn shifted her stance, ready to defend the girl. “It’s possible. But if I’m wrong, you’ll have hurt her, and I can’t allow that.”
“What if she were the danger, and not I? An innocent face can hide a monster just as easily as an ugly one.”
Cyn shook her head, certain of one thing. “Her posture. She was down, kneeling. Defenseless. Her hands were on her face, so unless she’s got daggers up her nose I don’t think she was hiding a weapon.”
“So you put your back to her, hoping I was the threat.”
“No. To protect a child.” She waved the stick at him. “Are we done with twenty questions now? I have places to be.” Bear butt to kick.
The man smiled, his teeth blindingly white, and held out his hand. The child took it, using her free one to wipe away her tears. “Look behind you. The path continues on. Know that the one you have set your feet upon will be difficult, but I believe it suits you.”
The man and the child both smiled at her and disappeared.
She turned and stared at the path. It was remarkably similar to the one she’d just left. “Peachy.”
God, part of her just wanted to lay down in the meadow and sleep, but she couldn’t. Again, if she faltered here the elusive something she needed would be lost. She had the feeling she would wake up in the real world, puking and completely human.
There was no real choice to make. Cyn put her foot on the path and cursed at the top of her lungs in both English and Spanish.
Hours, perhaps a day, passed, as more of Cyn’s skin was stripped away by the thorns. She was bleeding so badly now that if it hadn’t been a dream she was sure she would have died from the wounds. She ignored the few side paths that opened up to her, her only goal to move forward. Sheer determination kept her on her feet when she should have faltered.
The path opened before her and she sighed in relief. Too much more and she would have gone down, willing or not.
Her bare, bleeding feet met stone and she gasped. The feel of the cool stone was a balm to her sore soles. She wiggled her toes, almost wishing it were grass instead of stone.
When she was able to focus again, she almost sobbed. There, on a pedestal, was a shield, a sword, a set of leather biker gear, complete with boots, and the kind of staff she’d seen martial artists use.
“Gee. I wonder which one I should pick up.” She rolled her eyes and limped to the pedestal, the thorny branch she’d been clutching this entire time falling with a clatter to the ground. She sighed over the leather clothes, because, damn those were pretty. Too bad she couldn’t take more than one item. It was weird, the certainty she had that the moment she made her choice, all the other objects would disappear.
She reached for the staff as soon as it was within reach. As nice as the clothes were, all they would do was cover her nudity and protect her skin. That wouldn’t be enough, not against a shifter. The shield would keep her from being damaged, but that was all. She supposed she could ram someone with it, but she risked having it taken from her if she did. The sword was designed solely to do harm, with very little defense unless you were a professional fencer. Something Cyn definitely was not.
The staff, on the other hand… The staff could be both weapon and shield, and was just what she needed.
The clearing disappeared in a brilliant flash of light as the staff practically leapt into her hands. When she blinked her vision clear she found herself at the top of a cliff, overlooking a rocky sea. All of her wounds were healed, but she was still covered in her own gore.
Obstructing her view was a very large, very white bear.
Cyn clutched her staff. If this was the final test, she was in big trouble. “Hi.”
The bear snorted as if amused.
Right. “So. I’m here. Now what?”
The bear stared at her.
She leaned on the staff and stared right back.
The bear’s nose wrinkled ever so slightly. She would have missed it if she hadn’t been staring so hard.
Cyn lifted her foot and scratched the itchy, healed wound on the bottom.
The bear just sat there, blinking, as if it had all day to wait. If only she could figure out what it was waiting for, then they’d be golden.
“You want me to find you some honey? A cookie? Maybe a small, furry animal? You could hug it and love it and call it George.” She scratched at some of the dried blood on her stomach. “I could really use a shower.”
Fuck it. She was thirsty. She shrugged, sniffed it to make sure it really was water, picked it up and drank it, then carefully placed the glass right back where she’d found it.
She took a deep breath and studied the two paths. One seemed similar to the one she was already on, rocky and dirty with the occasional scraggly tree to add some visual interest. Bland, sort of boring, in no way like the other path.
The other path, if you could even call it that, appeared chock full of thorn bushes and sharp rocks. Even the air down that path appeared different, full of menace.
“Gee, Captain Obvious. I wonder which path I should take.” She’d been a fearless adventurer in her Dungeons & Dragons days. She was pretty sure she could guess where this little side trip was going. She gritted her teeth and covered her boobs with her hands. There were some places she really didn’t want scratched all to hell and gone, thank you very much.
The moment she set her foot on the dark path, she realized she’d made the right choice. “OW! Mother puss-bucket!”
After an eternity of painful steps, her flesh gouged in places that would make sitting down very difficult, the path finally opened up. Blue skies and a meadow full of wildflowers greeted her weary gaze. In the middle of that meadow a child knelt, crying. Over her stood a man, his hands at his sides, his expression pinched. The child cringed as the man raised his voice, his words muffled by the distance between them. He raised his fist into the air and shook it.
Cyn’s eyes narrowed. That man was bullying the child. Without even having to think about it she reached behind her and grabbed hold of a thorny branch, breaking it off the bush. She darted in front of the child and held the branch in front of her like a sword. “Hold it! Leave the girl alone.”
The man’s searing white eyes burned into hers. “You do not believe I justly chastise her?”
Cyn shifted her stance, ready to defend the girl. “It’s possible. But if I’m wrong, you’ll have hurt her, and I can’t allow that.”
“What if she were the danger, and not I? An innocent face can hide a monster just as easily as an ugly one.”
Cyn shook her head, certain of one thing. “Her posture. She was down, kneeling. Defenseless. Her hands were on her face, so unless she’s got daggers up her nose I don’t think she was hiding a weapon.”
“So you put your back to her, hoping I was the threat.”
“No. To protect a child.” She waved the stick at him. “Are we done with twenty questions now? I have places to be.” Bear butt to kick.
The man smiled, his teeth blindingly white, and held out his hand. The child took it, using her free one to wipe away her tears. “Look behind you. The path continues on. Know that the one you have set your feet upon will be difficult, but I believe it suits you.”
The man and the child both smiled at her and disappeared.
She turned and stared at the path. It was remarkably similar to the one she’d just left. “Peachy.”
God, part of her just wanted to lay down in the meadow and sleep, but she couldn’t. Again, if she faltered here the elusive something she needed would be lost. She had the feeling she would wake up in the real world, puking and completely human.
There was no real choice to make. Cyn put her foot on the path and cursed at the top of her lungs in both English and Spanish.
Hours, perhaps a day, passed, as more of Cyn’s skin was stripped away by the thorns. She was bleeding so badly now that if it hadn’t been a dream she was sure she would have died from the wounds. She ignored the few side paths that opened up to her, her only goal to move forward. Sheer determination kept her on her feet when she should have faltered.
The path opened before her and she sighed in relief. Too much more and she would have gone down, willing or not.
Her bare, bleeding feet met stone and she gasped. The feel of the cool stone was a balm to her sore soles. She wiggled her toes, almost wishing it were grass instead of stone.
When she was able to focus again, she almost sobbed. There, on a pedestal, was a shield, a sword, a set of leather biker gear, complete with boots, and the kind of staff she’d seen martial artists use.
“Gee. I wonder which one I should pick up.” She rolled her eyes and limped to the pedestal, the thorny branch she’d been clutching this entire time falling with a clatter to the ground. She sighed over the leather clothes, because, damn those were pretty. Too bad she couldn’t take more than one item. It was weird, the certainty she had that the moment she made her choice, all the other objects would disappear.
She reached for the staff as soon as it was within reach. As nice as the clothes were, all they would do was cover her nudity and protect her skin. That wouldn’t be enough, not against a shifter. The shield would keep her from being damaged, but that was all. She supposed she could ram someone with it, but she risked having it taken from her if she did. The sword was designed solely to do harm, with very little defense unless you were a professional fencer. Something Cyn definitely was not.
The staff, on the other hand… The staff could be both weapon and shield, and was just what she needed.
The clearing disappeared in a brilliant flash of light as the staff practically leapt into her hands. When she blinked her vision clear she found herself at the top of a cliff, overlooking a rocky sea. All of her wounds were healed, but she was still covered in her own gore.
Obstructing her view was a very large, very white bear.
Cyn clutched her staff. If this was the final test, she was in big trouble. “Hi.”
The bear snorted as if amused.
Right. “So. I’m here. Now what?”
The bear stared at her.
She leaned on the staff and stared right back.
The bear’s nose wrinkled ever so slightly. She would have missed it if she hadn’t been staring so hard.
Cyn lifted her foot and scratched the itchy, healed wound on the bottom.
The bear just sat there, blinking, as if it had all day to wait. If only she could figure out what it was waiting for, then they’d be golden.
“You want me to find you some honey? A cookie? Maybe a small, furry animal? You could hug it and love it and call it George.” She scratched at some of the dried blood on her stomach. “I could really use a shower.”
