From the Wisp ...

The Wolf glared at Bara, growled, and then tore off after the dark-haired boy and the stolen locket. Follow. Bara came to sitting. She brought herself to wobbly legs and began to run clumsily through the woods in pursuit. Pain reminded her she wore no shoes. The moss had disappeared. The ground was again rough and sharp. Wounds tore open, but the way was clear—a path of broken branches and trampled earth.
…

Bara ran for some time but with no sight or sound of the Wolf or the dark-haired boy. The path grew thick. No, not a path anymore. She’d lost them. She stopped, looked around, and realized something far worse. She was lost too. A cold wind reached deep into the forest. The wood shook in its frigid grasp. Being lost wasn’t her only problem. It was move or freeze to death, and so she ignored the cold and the pain and carried on. Oddly her feet didn’t hurt as much as they had before. The cold had numbed them, a blight disguised as a blessing.

As she limped along, the woods lightened, the stars dimmed, and the sky got brighter. Bara couldn’t see but sensed the horizon was the rosy hue of early morning. Amy would be up soon. She’d raise an alarm. People would come searching. Would they know where to look … not likely. She could die in these woods, cold and alone, but then not quite alone. An owl hooted and soared low and over her head, guiding her glance where she needed to look. A cross! It had to be the cross of St. Cat’s Chapel. The school clearing couldn’t be more than twenty yards away. Sure enough, the trees ended and she entered another clearing.

Before her was a maze, over ten-feet-high and who knew how deep. A maze just like in the diary? Great! She’d battled her way through the night wilds, and now it was figure the way through a maze, but the steeple she’d mistaken for St. Cat’s was still visible, promising shelter, warmth. A wisp of a cloud floated up and above the cross and disappeared into the twilight. It was soon replaced by another curlicue of grey. No, it wasn’t a cloud. It was smoke. Smoke from a fireplace? Maybe? Imagined heat thawed her muscles, and Bara entered the maze. She didn’t get far. Just past the entrance, the locket hung from the hedges. There was no wolf and no dark-haired boy. The locket dripped with blood. She took hold of the chain. One red drop splattered onto her palm. It burnt and she drew back. The blood bubbled and sizzled with silver and then dissolved to nothing. She held up her hand and flexed it. No mark or pain. She reached out again …

…

The dream let go. The maze dissolved to mist. Bara wasn’t in the forest any more but back in her own bed. “Why did you wake me up?” she demanded of Amy who sat beside her.

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A big thank you to those of you reading along with the Wisp this Halloween season. I do hope its melding of fantasy, autumnal image, and tad bit of horror is making things a little more festive for you here on HIVE. The Wisp, and its sequel, the Tall Man, are available in paperback or kindle if you want to read all in one shot.

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