I shivered in the autumn breeze, wishing again that I wasn’t even part human. Humans felt cold and hot, not like my mother’s people. They were the blessed ones, the ones gifted with a strong, immovable second form, one that neither felt hot or cold, one that never got hungry. Instead, I was given the curse of being half one thing, half something else. And I was always the one sent out to do the biddings of others. Right then, I was hunting for a pendant lost by a birch woman.
I bent to the ground, closing my eyes. I fixed the image in my mind and let my small magic loose. My magic spread across the forest floor, seeping past the wet leaves, up to the branches of many soulless trees. Another cold wind brought another wave of goosebumps, jarring me from my trance.
Annoyed, I sighed and pulled my fingers through my tangled hair, brushing past the wooden horns, usually hidden in my hair, and reaching back just enough to show from the back. They are what marked me as neither human nor dryad. Dryads’ horns were longer, more elegant than mine, reaching down with their hair, and as flexible and alive as they were.
I couldn’t focus on finding the trinket — I was too cold, and growing progressively more agitated. I sat down on the leaves and tried again to focus. This time a small burst of magic was all I needed to start a fire, and the wet leaves burned. Practicing the magic one of the Elders taught me, I focused on a circle around the fire, and then conjured a short burst of air to create the circle around the flame. I was glad this forest seeped magic, otherwise I’d never be able to make the leaves burn all night.
I sat there and watched the fire dance and grow, the warmth reaching into my chilled limbs. I tried to remember the old songs my mother sang to me before she was killed, and the words formed in my mind. But for some reason, I couldn’t make myself sing them.
“Why should it be any different this time?” I whispered. I’d never been able to sing her songs, and I probably never would.
The sun had long since set, and I let myself drift into sleep. My arms and legs stiffened and rooted me into the ground, and I didn’t try to stop it this time.
I woke up unable to breathe, and I was cold. Trying to draw breath, I rolled over and grabbed at my throat. After a few seconds I was coughing, drawing in desperate breaths. I'd never been able to take my second form fully. Often when I fell asleep, it would try and take over my body, but I couldn't breathe. Maybe it was my human part that instilled the fear of being unable to breathe, or maybe every creature has instincts like that. Full dryads had the ability to push that fear out of their minds and transform easily enough.
“I hate it when that happens,” I groaned, collapsing onto my stomach.
“You are not one of us,” a silken voice purred.
I rolled over and rubbed my eyes. “We don’t choose what we are,” I replied.
“Perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps we choose to be more than what we are.”
I looked around until my eyes fixed on her, standing there still half a tree, and as lovely as all the others. Her light hair reached the ground, scattered with twigs and branches, her legs were vine-like trees, and moss covered her arms and chest.
“With all due respect, why are you here?” I asked.
The dryad laughed. “I watched over you. I watched your dreams. You’ll find what you are looking for. By the Naiad Pool,” she said.
I watched her almost suspiciously as she looked up and placed her arms by her side as the tree enveloped her body, reaching up higher than the woman had stood. I waited until I was certain she had no intention of changing back before I stood and moved away.
My bare feet moved across the leaves quickly, carrying me towards the Naiad Pool. I knew listening to a xénos wasn’t a wise idea, but to ignore a dryad of any sort was bad luck.
The sun was above me, but the trees were thicker and blocked out most of the light. However, this was usual around the Naiad Pool, and that’s what told me I was getting close.
I knelt beside the pool, said three words in my native language of magic, and thrust my hand under the water. Eyes pinched shut, I waited until I felt the slick hand of a naiad grasp my own, and I pulled her up. I’d been taught that while naiads could surface of their own will, they would only help you if you summoned them. And if you summoned them, you should be ready for them to try and kill you.
But the girl I pulled from the depths of the Pool wasn’t malicious, at least not just yet. She had a youthful, plump face, large, sea green eyes and algae growing in her long hair. “Angelita? What brings you here?” she asked softly, her voice like water falling over stones.
She still hadn’t let go of my hand, and I had to keep fear from my mind. She learned only my name so far, and I was hoping to keep it that way.
“I was sent to retrieve something. A pendant,” I answered.
She blinked a few times then tilted her head and smiled at me. “Yes, I know the one. The leaf circle with the eye in the middle,” she said.
I nodded. “I need it.”
“Why should I give it to you? It’s ours, we found it,” she said, her voice still soft but somehow dark as well. She sounded slightly crazed, but I forced myself not to let that thought linger.
“What are you going to do with it?”
“I would answer with your question,” she said. Her grip on my hand hadn’t lightened any, and I allowed myself the split second to realize her hands had sharp scales on them, and they were biting into my palm.
“I’m going to return it. One of the spirits lost it and requires it be returned,” I said.
“Why should I give it to you?” she repeated.
“Why should you?” I asked, instantly catching on to her game.
She smiled, revealing her perfect teeth. “I see. You will have to accompany me to retrieve it. Hold your breath long enough and it’s yours. If not, you might die here. Of course, it should be no trouble”—her eyes flashed up to mine—“for a dryad.”
Before I could respond, she yanked on my arm. I had just long enough to grab a breath of air before I was dragged headfirst under the water. I didn’t dare open my eyes, not until the water stopped feeling so gritty against my skin. Our decent wasn’t as fast as the naiad could’ve made it, and I knew she was testing me. In my head, I tried to remember the spell for air, but I couldn’t.
I opened my eyes just in time to see the pendant, like burned amber at the bottom of the pool glittering from its own magic. But she didn’t grab it, she just waited. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the amulet. White-hot pain shot through my hand and I almost let it go. However, as soon as I grabbed it, the naiad began her ascent, dragging me with her.
I closed my eyes as she dragged me up, feeling my breath escape my lungs in a mangled attempt to breathe. The naiad girl didn’t mind my distress, and I managed to remember our deal — hold my breath or die. For just a moment, I thought I was going to die.
When my head broke through the surface, air rushed into my lungs and water flooded out of them. I coughed and choked on the water. I groped for the edge of the Pool, catching it just before my head went back under. I hauled myself half out of the pool and just lay there heaving for a minute, trying to get all the water and debris out of my lungs.
“You should come back and we should do this again,” the naiad said when I’d finally recovered.
I pulled the rest of myself out of the water and just lay on my back, dripping wet. My head lolled to the side and I gave the naiad a pointed look. “If I ever need to, I will,” I said.
“We know things, things that might—” but she never finished. Her eyes widened and she dove under water. I turned my head and my heart skipped a beat.
Looming before me stood one of the Orsen, and it was angry. Orsen were forest guardians, and it was hard to tell just how many of them there were. This guardian was a deep gray and dripping wet as though he too had just been dragged underwater and hauled out. I took that to mean he was one of the naiads’ guardians; and he was looking for a fight.
I struggled to my feet and slid the black chain over my head, the pendant heating me completely through. I spread my fingers, brought my arms up to my ears on opposite sides, and flung them back apart. Sharp wooden splinters shot from my fingertips and shot into the Orsen, who roared in fury. It charged and I ran. I couldn’t run fast enough, but I didn’t stop running.
Pine needles pierced my feet, and I couldn’t see straight. Only one thought was going through my head just then. Keep running. Keep running. Don’t stop. Keep running. I broke through the forest edge, squinting at the sudden burst of light. My whole body hurt, and kept telling me I should stop running. But how could I? If I stopped running, that thing was going to kill me.
However, I saw quickly that I couldn’t keep running much longer—I’d run into a dead end. Not far ahead, the clearing came to an abrupt end, the only way out being a straight upwards climb of more than twenty feet. I knew I’d never make the cliff; my body would give out before I reached the top.
I hated that I had no real weapon, and I hated that I knew I couldn’t fight. I didn’t want to die—I’d defied death too many times before for it to take me now! Right?
Before I could think any further, I’d reached the end of the valley. I slammed into the cliff, unable to make myself stop running. The rocks cut into the skin on my hand, and the pendant crushed into my chest bone.
Heaving, I turned to face the charging Orsen. I only had a few seconds before it was right in front of me, close enough to see the anger in its eyes. It was going to kill me. The Orsen moved to strike me, and all I could do was throw my arms over my head. I felt the bone-crushing pain when the thing hit me, felt my body collapse to the ground, and then nothing.
The first things I knew were that my head hurt, and I my right eye was swollen shut — I could feel the pressure on my eye. My head lolled to the left and rough fabric brushed my cheek. I forced myself to open my one eye, but all I saw was a blur.
“You’re awake.” The voice was gravelly, and I saw a muddled blur move towards me.
“Who—?” My mouth was so dry I could barely talk, my lips were cracked and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I coughed, trying not to choke.
“Don’t try and talk right now. But when you can talk, you can call me Denror,” he said.
I blinked until my vision started to clear up, and I got my first real look at Denror. He had a thick red beard with three gray streaks—like three claw marks—and his hair was tied back. He was a short, stocky man, and his face was oddly dark. It was obvious that he was a dwarf, and by his beard and skin I guessed he was a Grend dwarf.
“You took a nasty blow to your head. If I hadn’t come when I did, you’d probably be dead,” Denror told me. He placed a cool wet rag on my forehead, giving me a reassuring look. “It’s been two days since I found you. Had quite an adventure, I see.” He glanced at my chest but I knew he wasn’t being like a perverse human. He was looking at the pendant.
I lifted my hand up to my throat and touched the spot where the necklace was supposed to be. My eyebrows furrowed at the feeling of the pendant, seconds before my eyes widened—the one that wasn’t swollen shut at least.
I shot upright, but my head spun and half collapsed back down on the pillow, mostly slumping over with one hand on my sternum. “What happened?” I demanded, my words coming out scratchy.
“I was wondering if you’d be able to tell me that. But lie back down,” Denror said, and with a firm hand he made me.
“It was hot,” was all I could manage before I started coughing.
Denror left my side and came back a moment later with a mug. He lifted my head up and helped me drink and I was grateful for the cold water. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said. “For now, you need to eat. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”
“Five,” I agreed. I closed my good eye and tried to think back on everything that had happened. I could remember my search for the pendant, losing all my food to scavengers, the odd meeting with the xénos, almost being drowned, and the attack. But I couldn’t remember why I was trying to find the pendant or why I’d put it on, and I had no idea how I’d gotten into this dwarf’s home.
“Now,” he said, snapping my attention back to where I was. “Let’s try and get you to sit up and eat a little bit.”
I tried to push myself up, but only got my left arm to move. “What’s wrong with me?” I asked, scared and worried.
Denror helped me sit up and scoot back just enough so that my back was against the wall. Apparently the bed was enclosed on three sides by smooth, uneven stone walls.
“As I said before, you took quite a beating. But I didn’t want to do anything to you while you were unconscious. I would assume your shoulder has been dislocated. I had hoped you wouldn’t have any head trauma. Now then, eat up,” he said, setting a brown bowl on my lap.
I looked at it, and then at him. “What is it?” I asked. Denror frowned at me, as if I’d just insulted him. “Sorry,” I said, picking up the spoon and swallowing the food. It wasn’t that bad, but it had a bitter aftertaste, and I had no idea what it was.
Unfortunately, I ate more than my stomach was ready to handle. Denror cleaned up, and I felt awful—both because I got sick and because he had to take care of me.
I kept trying to apologize, but Denror wouldn’t hear of it. But I guess I got payback for everything I’d put him through when he put my shoulder back in place. It wasn’t that I’d never had to relocate my shoulder, but it was never a painless thing.
“Here, put this in your mouth,” Denror instructed, handing me a rag.
I didn’t question him, just rolled the rag and bit down on it as hard as I could. He didn’t warn me before he did it—he just put both arms on my shoulder and popped the bone back in place. I screamed into the rag and felt a tear sting my eye. A few moments later, I spat the rag out and forced myself to move my shoulder, despite the searing pain.
“Now, we need to talk,” he said, sitting down on the stool next to the bed.
“I agree.”
“Starting with that,” Denror said, pointing to the pendant under my skin. “Tell me what you know about it.”
“Nothing really. A birch dryad sent me to find it for her, and she didn’t tell me anything about it other than what it looked like. Dark amber with four leaves circling an eye in the middle, and the eye was a black gemstone. When I picked it up, it burned my hand. And it glowed,” I said, remembering the Naiad Pool.
“I see….” He stood up and went over to a bookshelf filled with brown-spined books. He ran his finger over some of the spines before he stopped and pulled a rather large one off the shelf.
“You’re a Grend dwarf,” I stated.
“Yes, indeed,” he said, not looking up from his book.
Everything suddenly made sense; why he’d helped me, how he knew how to take care of me, how he’d been out of his caves. Grend dwarves were not stonemasons like their cousins the Raenes dwarves, or miners like the Bakwis dwarves. Grend dwarves were scholars and minor magicians, who focused on the world and arts around them.
“So, where did you find this?” Denror asked.
I almost didn’t answer, and I felt stupid for not realizing it before. “The Naiad Pool,” I said softly.
“Ah. And you said it was hot when you picked it up? And it glowed?”
I nodded, reaching up to touch my wounded eye. “Guess I got what I deserved,” I said.
“No one deserves this,” Denror said, setting the book on my lap. “Hey, that’s it. That’s the pendant,” I said, jabbing my finger at a symbol on the page. But I still had no idea what it was, because I couldn’t read the dwarves’ language.
“I had a feeling it might be. In that case, you have two options,” Denror said. “Either we can attempt to remove it, or you leave it in and can live permanently with tote sehkraft.”
“The what?”
“‘Dead man’s sight’. You are no longer in just one world. You belong to both our world and the one beyond ours.”
“Beyond?” I asked, voice cracking.
“I’m sure you understand by now. When you walk out of this place, you will see the dead.” His voice was so matter-of-fact that it scared me further.
“I… I can’t see the dead. I can only half see the living,” I stammered.
“Yes, for now. But not for much longer. You recovered quickly enough, I assume because of your dryad spirit. Am I correct in assuming it was your mother?”
I managed a nod. “Dead…?” I choked.
“When you’re feeling up to it, why don’t we go for a walk? Then you can see just what sort of hell you have stepped into. Or perhaps the hell you fell head-first into when you went into the Pool.”
I sighed. “But you said I had two options. You said I could get rid of it right? If I can get it out from under my skin. How do we do that? Cut it out?”
Denror shook his head and sighed in a disapproving gesture. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about, do you? The only way to get that sort of thing out of your skin is with magic, one that I’m sure neither of us possesses. I certainly don’t, and because you are only a Halfling, I’d imagine you don’t either.”
“Then what do we do?” I asked.
“We must find someone who can,” he said simply.
“Oh yes, easy,” I said, nodding sarcastically. “And where should we—” My eyes widened at the sudden thought.
“What do you know?” Denror asked.
“’We know things,’” I murmured.
“What do you mean? Who does?” Denror asked. He took the book from my lap and tried to get me to look at him, but my eyes were transfixed on my burned right palm.
“’We know things,’ that’s what she said. The naiad girl… but she got cut off. I don’t know what they know,” I said.
“Perhaps we should ask her,” Denror thought aloud.
“You go right ahead and try. But I’m not going to go almost drown again, not yet at least,” I stated.
“No, not until you’re ready,” he said. “Why don’t you rest for a few hours, and I’ll wake you when I’ve got some more information.” He helped me lay down and brought me a cold compress for both my eye and my shoulder, and in less than ten minutes I was asleep.
There were a few small things, but I can't remember...
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