Eflana

Chapter 3

"Where are we going again?"

"I'll tell you when we get there." Ylva said smugly.

My stomach growled. Ylva raised an eyebrow at me over her shoulder, making me blush. I thought of what we were going to eat. Some berries? Plant leaves? Meat? I was immediately repulsed. Meat? Yuck. There was no way I was going to eat an animal. Did that make me a vegetarian? I guess so. Interesting . . ..

We came to a dead end. Several thick bushes sat in front of us, to tall to climb or jump over. I turned to Ylva. "Any ideas?"

"Well, we could-," a small deer leaped out of the brush, standing completely still when it saw us. It was very pretty. No antlers, so a female. I stood still, not wanting to frighten it. Ylva also tensed.

For a minute we just stared at each other; the deer, Ylva, and me. But I noticed the deer was paying strict attention to Ylva, completely ignoring me. And its eyes were way too wide, it's chest moving too fast. I glanced at Ylva from the corner of my eye.

I almost screamed.

Her face was unrecognizable, completely contorted. Her lips were peeled back in a feral snarl. Her eyes were staring straight at the deer, like a cat deciding which way to kill the mouse. Her whole body was leaning slightly toward the poor doe, every muscle in her body strained.

I was in shock for all of one heartbeat before I recklessly jumped directly in front of her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her for all I was worth.

This did two things. One, it gave the deer her opportunity to vanish. Two, it broke the terrifying trance Ylva was under. She almost collapsed, had I not been shaking her like a rag doll. She got her footing, pried my hands off of herself, and took several deep breaths. I studied her face. An emotionless mask, all traces of the menacing hunger and rage gone. I stood there for a long time, breathing heavy, and heart still pounding. With horror, I realized what I had just done. She had been as likely to eat the doe as she was me. But that . . . thing wasn't her. Was it? A different part of her at least, one she kept on a tight leash.

She finally opened her eyes, though carefully avoided mine. With slow, cautious movements, she peeled back the bushes to reveal a small door. It opened easily, without a squeak. Behind it was an alcove, shaded and camouflaged by trees and vines and bushes. In the alcove squatted a humble cottage. I could see the beginning of a fruit and veggie garden along the left wall of the tiny house. Though small and worn down, there was something inviting about the cottage. It seemed . . . warm. Like a home should. Ylva walked right up to the little door and banged the rusted knocker. It was a beautiful door knocker in the shape of a dragonfly, but so rusted it looked like it would crumble at the slightest touch.

We didn't need to wait long; the house was so small anyone living there wouldn't need to travel far to get the door, no matter where they were inside it. An old woman answered the door. Her gray hair was tied back in a messy bun. Laugh lines meshed with her wrinkles, making her look older than she probably was. Her brown eyes seemed to drink us in, deciding whether or not to let us in. After a moment of staring at me – she seemed to have already met Ylva and didn't examine her that thoroughly – her thin lips broke into a wide smile, like she was genuinely happy to see us. She beckoned us in, and Ylva had to stoop under the sagging doorframe. I hesitated, wondering if she could be a witch or some other creature in disguise. But Ylva seemed to trust her, and I now knew perfectly well that Ylva was able to handle herself just fine. We did go all this way . . .

I ducked into the small house. Her cottage was even smaller on the inside. A small round wooden table and a few discarded chairs sat in the corner to my left. To my right was what appeared to be a bedroom. Through the door way I could only see a bed with several thick quilts piled on top. Down a small hallway was another door, probably leading to the garden I saw earlier.