Witch of Iria

The Hunt

A branch snaps behind me and I whirl around, ready to face a hunter. My hands are wreathed in knotted darkness, magical energy preparing to strike. The tree shudders and I clench my fists-

Only to see the white stag step through the trees.

Despite being paler than moonlight, his eyes are onyx. His antlers are like liquid light, arched and forked.

"Dorcha." I bow my head. "Where have you been?"

He inclines his head and walks forward, anticipating a rub. I let out a sigh and scratch his head, the white fur softer than silk.

"You know it's dangerous to go so close to the city," I mutter, kissing him on the head. "even if we have no choice."

He gives me a frustrated look and rolls his dark eyes. At that moment, my stomach grumbles. I push a strand of black hair out of my face and fix my threadbare brown dress.

"Yes, I'm hungry too," I say, eyeing him. He looks thinner than before, his frame more skeletal.

He begins to sniff around, searching for apples. I close my eyes, dreaming of a mountain of food, and then open them to the barren grove. We'll have to go closer to the forest line that divides the city of Iria from the trees.

I stare up at the sky, the sun beginning to drift towards the western mountains. It'll be evening soon. And I can't hunt in the dark without waking things that would hunt us.

I open my senses, my eyes seeing through the dappled leaves of the trees all the way down the valley. I listen to the cries of the birds, hoping that the sound of baying wolves stays far away and stretch my power dangerously close to the treeline.

"Seems we're all clear," I say, winking at Dorcha. I wouldn't want him to get spooked again. We nearly got caught the other night by wolves because he bolted.

I take a breath and leave the grove, my senses razor-sharp. Dorcha follows behind me, his cloven hooves near silent. He really is getting better at this, considering he snuck up on me today. The trees are dark sentinels, the ridged lines of their bark changing all the time. They do it to confuse people, to misdirect them. Thankfully Dorcha and I know better.

A tinkling stream sounds loud and clear in my right ear, but a high-pitched whine accompanies the flowing water. Dorcha makes to go right but I catch his eye and shake my head.

Enchanted, I mouth to him and he blinks, showing he understands.

We creep toward the border between the forest and Iria, jumping at ebony pookas masquerading as horses and fluffy white rabbits minding their own business. The sun, which began high in the sky, shifts west until it touches the mountain which sits beside the forest. The River Awe, which hugs the mountain and flows at its base, gleams distantly in the sunlight. I can tell Dorcha is getting annoyed with my dramatic sneaking when he snorts for the third time. I glower at him, my nerves on high alert as the border comes into sight.

And with it, the walls of Iria.

They are higher than any tree I've ever climbed, stretching up into the clear blue sky. I always wondered if the guards at the top could touch the clouds. My mother said it wasn't that high, but she loved to lie. Dorcha has his eye on the apple trees decorating the treeline, perfectly positioned so anyone picking them would be seen.

He gives me a roguish look and begins to shuffle toward the apple trees.

"Dorcha!" I hiss. He ignores me.

I shake my head, but he's halfway there, his greedy black eyes intent on the red ones.

"Damn it!" I swear, and rush after him, my dark magic flickering in my palms. Who knows who could be waiting at that treeline. I've never gotten this close. I've never been forced to get this close.