Faebreaker

10: Pooka

"Lads!" he began. "I asked for you to come on this hunt, and now I tell you why."

His men murmured amongst themselves, passing whispers.

MacGregor finally continued. "Long have we lived in the shadow of a realm yet unknown to the Westerland man. My people: One of the foul queen's beasts has come out of its lair!"

Murmurs circulated once more, the men stirring as their heads turned and their feet shuffled up against the ground.

"We are here not as the King's men, not as faebreakers, but as just ourselves." He paused, finding his breath. "My inexperience—and I admit this truly—has led to the death of one of our town's most beloved, Feena."

He moved back and forth down the line, brandishing his torch as its flames shifted angrily through the air. "I come here to redeem myself. To hunt the demon that dared bore its teeth against our people."

He lifted his torch high into the air.

"I ask that you raise your torches with me. And fear not the dark forest!" he screamed, his voice echoing through the trees. "And when you see the beast—a naked girl in the dark—do not be fooled. Strike her down with what weapons you have brought, and show no mercy!"

The whole crowd cheered, raising their torches, pitchforks, shovels, whatever they had brought. The man's aura seemed impenetrable, inconceivable, his spell of confidence about as strong as fae ensorcellment itself.

"And if you see its form, that of the demon's true self. Gather together as brothers in arms and march forward against her. Because tonight, is the night, Ettinsburgh takes back its pride!"

With that, MacGregor's party scattered into groups of threes and fours, scouring the night for what Isla figured could only be herself. True self... She curled up into a ball, tears rolling down her cheeks. He'd called her a demon.

"Girl."

A voice in the dark, but not that of a man. Something else...something in the language of the ancient forest.

"I know you're there. I can see you, hiding inside that little trunk. Stay put."

She blinked. "Who are you?"

"You'll see." It paused. "How are you?"

"You can't be serious."

"Very serious," the voice said. "How are you?"

"Fine." Isla scoffed. "I'm fine."

"Clearly not." The voice chuckled. "There's something else out here."

"You, right?" Isla figured.

"Oh no," it said, its tone raspy. "Something, very, very bad. And something very, very, unfortunate."

"What do you mean?" Isla sighed. "And who are you?"

"Something very unfortunate for the twenty something men that would go screaming around its ancient loch." The voice in the dark snickered. "You're not the only one that's been doing some killing around these parts. And tsk tsk, let's not spoil the surprise now. I want to see the look on your face when you meet me!"

"You'll make me want to eat you if you don't stop faffing about," Isla spat. She half meant it.

"Oh, you're so cute when you're angry!" The voice paused. "You're a very lucky girl to have not crossed its path yet. It's waking up now."

"Lucky? Waking up?" He might as well have been spouting nonsense at this point, but Isla was too bored not to listen. "What are you on about?"