Doorways

Chapter 2

Are there mountain lions in this forest? Bears?

Her heart pounding, Taylen hurried back to the lake. Better to stick with open ground where she could at least see an animal coming.

Exhaustion dragged at her limbs. Stumbling, she caught herself from falling. It'd been evening when she'd been driving her car and that had been hours, a car crash and a swim in the lake ago. She had to stop. Three trees stood so close together they could all be coming up from the same root system. Together they made a curved wall for Taylen to sink down against. She gazed at where the sun lay half behind the treetops, beckoning the coming of night. There was nothing to start a fire with, nothing to wrap around herself to keep warm, and no sign of help. Pulling her knees up to her chest she curled up as tightly as she could. With a heavy dose of luck she might survive the night.

As she sat watching the sun dip lower movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. A huge dog sniffed the edge of the lake about fifty feet from her. It was a light gray, rangy looking creature about the size of a Great Dane but with long hair that hung in limp tangles from its body. The dog was smelling the area she'd just come from. Another dog, this one smaller and darker in color, loped out of the trees and joined its companion.

As if sensing her stillness, the two massive heads swiveled in her direction. The darker one let out a sharp bark and trotted towards her, its companion just behind it. Taylen shifted into a crouch with her back against the trees. The dogs' heads swung side to side as they moved, like a cobra hypnotizing its prey. The jaws in their long pointy snouts hung open panting revealing huge white teeth as they stopped in front of her. Taylen remained crouched, trying to look as non-threatening as possible while searching behind her with one hand for a large stone or branch, anything that she might use to defend herself.

"Krill. Jerel. Down lads," a voiced boomed making Taylen jump.

Keeping one eye on the dogs who had begun to explore the area to her left, Taylen rose to meet the tall, thick shaped man who strode towards her. He was broad shouldered and heavyset like a body builder gone soft. His light brown hair was cut with military precision boxing in a wide forehead and strong jaw line. A pleasant smile lifted his lips. If she had to guess, she'd put him in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. His dress was beyond bizarre though. He wore a woolen vest, long sleeved shirt and brown leather pants and boots. On his left shoulder he had a bow and what looked to be arrows stuck out over his other shoulder and on his hip he carried what had to be a sword.

Who the hell carries a sword?! Is there a renaissance festival nearby?

He came to a halt a few feet from her, his dark eyes bright and intelligent as they studied her. A puzzled look pushed his bushy eyebrows together as he glanced down at her clothes, his smile faltering.

Help had arrived. But dressed like this? Her eyes went to the sword again. Yup. It was definitely a sword or at least a very real looking replica. Weaponless Taylen stood her ground. Her pepper spray was yet another thing that'd gone down with her car. The silence stretched into awkwardness. She needed to ask for a phone or the nearest town to get help, but this was too bizarre

If only I had my pepper spray. Keeping her tone light, she asked, "What kind of dogs are they?" That's right, just pretend it's normal to talk to someone dressed up like he stepped out of a Tolkien novel.

The man shrugged. Abruptly, he grinned. "Not from around here, are you." It was a statement, not a question. Taylen nodded. There was a lilt to his speech she wasn't familiar with.

"I'm not sure where here is," she admitted.

His eyebrows rose in what appeared to be feigned surprise. "Benclaren."