Carnival Souls

To Catch a Kelpie

Seconds and then minutes ticked by with Lira's legs beginning to grow numb. "C'mon," she muttered. "Where are you?"

The silence of the spirit world took on a heavy quality. Lira could feel the air pressure more acutely then ever on her eardrums and eyes as she strained for any sensory indication that their quarry was approaching. Though she had long since learned to ignore the random flashes of light, now she kept turning her head and her heartrate kept spiking every time one burst in her peripheral vision. Soon enough her neck hurt from the strain, but if she was on edge she couldn't imagine how Owen felt.

"Be brave," she whispered.

It was dead silent when it finally emerged. Ripples spread from the spot where its head broke the surface, but there was no residual sound of the water lapping the shore or drops falling from its hair. It might as well have been a ghost. Or a spirit.

Black as coal, its coat made the kelpie hard to see against the dark lake, nothing more than a watery shadow. Water weeds hung from its tail and mane and it stood looking down at Owen with an almost curious expression on its long face.

"Now?" hissed Lira.

"Wait," said Genzel.

Lira turned back to the lake, trying to breathe around her heart that had since lodged in her throat. Why had they agreed to this ludicrous plan? Genzel had explained that the incense he usually used to draw and sedate kelpies had been lost when he had been dragged into the dark forest. Instead he had come up with their current tactic of using Owen to lure one from the lake and hope Lira's playing would subdue it before it potentially drowned Owen. It was primitive at best and Lira had argued against it, but according to Genzel it was their only choice. And Owen had agreed.

Surprise, surprise. Let's just hope his blind trust doesn't get him killed.

The kelpie took a silent step toward Owen and lowered its head. Owen reached out one hand to strike its neck while the other pulled loose the rope that was tied around his waist. With a languid motion, he threw the rope over the kelpie's broad shoulders and deftly tied a noose. The horse flicked its ears but stood still. He began to walk backward step by step, the rope wrapped around one hand, leading the water horse back to the shore.

"C'mon just a bit farther," said Genzel.

The silence of the scene gave it a dreamlike quality as though it was happening inside a snow globe. A terrifying snow globe. Not dreamlike, thought Lira, nightmarish. It threatened to crush all of them until it was broken by a soft whicker from the kelpie.

Owen froze, still facing the beast. It snorted, reaching out its long neck so its head was level with and nearly touching Owen. The horse made another soft noise and Owen lifted his free hand to once more pat its nose. Gathering the slack, Owen tugged the rope to get the horse moving again.

But something was wrong. The kelpie bobbed its head and stamped a foreleg, spraying Owen with water. He threw up a hand to shield his eye and then dove sideways as the horse reared, it's front hooves coming down where Owen had been a moment before.

"Shit," said Genzel.

Lira burst out of the reeds, scanning the water frantically for a sign of Owen. The horse was still there snorting and swinging its great head from side to side. A short breath of relief escaped her when she saw Owen's head break the surface, and heard him splutter as he spat out a mouthful of water. But her chest constricted when the horse spotted him and charged again. This time, Lira could hear the crashing of the water as its legs broke through. Whatever spell there had been was broken.

The horse's approach cut off the safety of the shore, forcing Owen under once more towards deeper water. The chase repeated when Owen emerged for a gasp of air. Lira's violin gave a twang as her nails scraped along the strings.