Acantha's Stories

A Declaration of Dragons

2008-05-09T19:04:42Z

“It is a dragon sky today,” the Child pronounced, sipping her tea with purpose. Across the table, Memory raised one immaculately manicured eyebrow at her superior.

The Child appeared, as her name suggested, to be a girl of hardly more than ten years old, elaborately dressed in a rose-pink silk robe with enough layers to bury a creature of lesser stature. There were few creatures on the mountain and the forest surrounding it that were of lesser stature than the Child, of course, which only made her stand out more.

“And why is that?” Memory asked, setting her teacup down and signaling for one of the lesser servants to bring in the next course, silently urging them to hurry. It was dessert next; the Child had been promised persimmon cakes, and would be not a little disappointed if they were not fresh and hot from the oven.

“Well, of course, it is what it is because I said it is.” The Child dissolved into giggles at Memory’s expression. “Isn’t it?”

“Of course, my lady,” Memory sighed. “Of course.”

Got To Catch Them All

2008-05-09T17:49:10Z

The monster rustled his lips and smiled toothily. “That hit the spot.”

“I hope so. Do you know how long it took me to find one? Those mice are nasty little things, and quick, too.”

“You have my thanks.” The monster grinned again. I wished he’d stop doing that. It unnerved me to see those gray and yellow daggers gleaming in the dim light.

“Well?” I was getting impatient. “Are you going to come with me or not?”

The monster chuckled like dry leaves. “I will… but first, indulge my curiosity and tell me your reasons for all this pagentry.”

“Why should I?”

Again, the rustle-chuckle. “I enjoy hearing your voice.”

I frowned and looked away. “My father… he’s gone. Away. If I want to find him, I need… I need your strength. Please. I need—”

I looked up to find the monster gone. “Damn it!” I could have cried. “After all that—”

“Are you coming or what?” The monster’s dry-leaf voice called from behind me. “The road’s waiting.”

I stood, and not for the first time wondered just what I’d gotten myself into.

The Perils of Whimsy

2008-04-10T20:20:03Z

“Did you ever notice,” she said, “that this street has two names?”

“That so?” I glanced toward her.

She stopped halfway up the street and pointed to the street sign at the bottom of the hill. “It says ‘Scottfield’ there.”

I looked up at the sign, and down at her. “And?”

She dragged me up the last half of the hill and pointed to the sign at the top. “Read it.”

I did. ”’Scotfield.’”

“They’re different!” She paused, thoughtful. “I wonder why?”

I opened my mouth to reply. She cut me off.

“Maybe there’s some sort of weird dimensional gap right here, and the extra ‘t’ is lost when it makes the jump from here to there. Or there to here. Maybe we all cross the gap, and we’ve been living in two dimensions all this time, and we’re the only ones who know the truth!” She turned to me, eyes shining.

The disbelief must have shown on my face.

“Or, maybe, the sign guy couldn’t spell,” she sighed up at me. “Gosh, would it hurt to add a little whimsy to your life?”

She stepped away, and I lost sight of her.

Eyes Like Sky

2008-02-01T21:29:24Z

“Ha!” she crowed, booted feet crunching happily on the day-old snow, “we caught him!”

She was standing triumphant over the shivering figure when I reached the clearing. Her hands slid to her pockets and the carefully folded packet hidden there.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” chattered the caught man. I glanced down at him; he was handsome, with hair so red it was actually orange. He had eyes like the sky. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Really?” She grinned down at him through her scarf and unfolded her spell. It glimmered in the cold air like the icicles dripping down the caught man’s face.

“It won’t work,” he said, but the spell was already wafting toward him. He screwed his eyes shut as the tendrils caressed his eyelids.

It was quick work to shove myself against him, tip him over and feel the icy webs break against his skin. She howled, angry. The spell must have fizzled. I glanced down.

His sky eyes shone as the spell took hold. He blinked at me.

“Well, fuck.”

Curiousity Catches the Cat

2008-01-17T17:23:03Z

We’d been walking for close to ten minutes when Grendel shifted on my shoulder, his body going stiff as ice. The furry curl of his tail formed a question mark; he tensed, ready to pounce.

He’d obviously seen something.

I paused, peering ahead through the snow-lined trees. The silence that surrounds a snowy landscape hadn’t melted yet, even with the winter sun as strong as it was this particular day. Grendel made a sound, a soft, questioning purr, and leaped from my shoulder to land lightly on the white path. He took off in a run.

What else could I do? He knows what he’s doing. I followed him.

I found him sitting entirely still in the center of a clearing, silent. His ears were perked forward, and his eyes were unblinking.

“Do you see it?” I asked softly, not wanting to disturb him. His tail twitched once. “Good,” I said, and stepped forward.

Cold descended along my limbs like webbing; I heard Grendel yowl. “Great,” I muttered, teeth already chattering. “Someone else found the snow spiders first.”

Orange Stripes and Monsters

2008-01-16T22:07:45Z

The snow was deep, but not too deep for Grendel. He pranced ahead of me through the drifts, a kitten again.

People often question the wisdom of naming a large, orange, tiger-striped cat Grendel, especially one as boisterous as he. To that I say, do you think I had a choice? He came with that name, man. I never had much say in the matter.

The two of us had just reached the stream when Grendel’s ears perked forward, and he paused mid-leap, balanced on his hind legs. I jogged the last few steps to catch up and squatted beside him, our eyes practically level. “Did you find it?”

The twitching of his left ear was like a raised eyebrow, with all the implications. “Sorry,” I amended, to which he huffed and rested a paw against my leg. In a moment he was perched on my shoulder; snow showered down my open collar. He purred, contented.

“You’re in a good mood,” I said with a smile, straightening up. Grendel rubbed his cheek against mine, latching his claws into my jacket in preparation for the ride. “Hang on, now.”

Araneae Nivalis

2008-01-16T19:36:18Z

“So, what are we looking for again?”

She glanced toward me with an exasperated sigh, the breath fogging up her glasses where they peeked over her scarf. She didn’t seem to notice it.

“We’re looking for snow spiders,” she said. “It’s very important.”

“You haven’t told me why we’re looking for them, though.”

“It’s because I need him to love me.”

“Oh.” I ducked my head down. “So, you’re really doing it?”

“Of course I am.” She turned around fully this time, mittened hands on her hips and brown curls poking from under her pom-pom hat. “He’s perfect. I can’t let her take him away again.” She frowned at me through her scarf. “So keep your eyes open. There’s got to be at least one around here.”

“Hn.” She fixed me with a hard look and whirled around, stalking away across the clearing. I watched her go.

I do keep my eyes open. That’s why I know he’s not perfect. Not for you. Beside me, a web of frost and silk caught the winter sunlight.

“Did you find anything?” she called.

I turned my head away. “No.”

It's Too Bad Trees Can't Lie

2008-01-15T22:38:51Z

The tree curled possessively around the entrance, creaking hugely in the oppressive silence. I shivered. In the canopy above, the leaves did the same.

You have come, the tree said. I have waited for you.

“Yes,” I replied, and added, a bit lamely, “Sorry for the delay.”

It is no matter. The tree creaked again, roots shifting minutely. The crumbling masonry protested, sending a shower of cracked stone and rotten mortar tumbling down around me.

You have made the necessary preparations?

I glanced back over my shoulder to the still-smoking altar, to the dying smudge of blood and sage and ash. The hot designs traced across my skin were already drying. The smell of it was everywhere.

“Yup.” I looked toward the tree and laid a hand on its closest root. “In case I don’t come back, you should know: I love you.”

I know.

“Do you love me?”

I do not. I cannot. I am a tree.

“True.” I looked down into the cool blackness before me. “Right. That settles that.”

I stepped forward and down into darkness.