Wickerman Cove

Part 29: How the Other Half Lives...

Penny had hung around for a while to watch the deputies work. They were both very sweet, if you could get past their strange, hairy, fleshy heads and the rolling, watery spheres where their eyes should be. Even after so many years, it was hard not to fixate on their flapping, lolling pink mouth-tentacles.

As she drove back along the dark country roads, she reached across and stroked Renard. He sat, rolling the whole situation around in his huge mind. She could feel him working – chugging through the tasks she'd appointed, maintaining the assigned effects. Besides, it was nice to enjoy the texture of his fur.

The forest was almost like home, although the trees didn't speak. Rationally, she knew they hadn't been shut up or silenced. The trees here didn't have sapience. They didn't whisper because they had no thoughts or opinions to share. Still, she set the radio to a talk channel and turned it down so that she could pretend.

It was unusual for her to be homesick. Especially with the stakes so high. It was probably spending so much time around Steph. Who would have thought Gregori and Tatyana would have a grandchild?

St. Petersburg. Scared. Desperate to fit in. The Guide was everywhere and the Hoard were on the verge of mass invasion. Then she'd met Gregori and Tat. Him – brave and funny. Her – so smart that she could follow you into a revolving door and come out first. She took them home and showed off her house. Instead of being frightened, they came back with wine and sausages.

Why did humans have to die so quickly?

She stroked Renard a little more, reminding herself that he was there. He always would be, as long as she was, which was comforting.

It was too dark to see, but she knew there would be a place to pull in the hearse.

She hopped out with her arms bare. It was probably too cold for one of the locals, but temperature didn't really bother Penny.

She put Renard on a leash – there were a lot of spirits in the woods: suicides, lost souls, ancient things that had never been human. The last thing she needed was to spend the rest of the night with him running around, herding them. She knew he meant it with love, but the local etherofauna didn't have much experience with broody crinoforms making up for the fact that they'd never had pups.

You're just having a midlife crisis, she thought, reaching down to scratch between his ears.

As an afterthought, Penny directed him to drop their disguises. It was bliss to be able to walk around at her full height, even if it did mean there were suddenly a lot more low hanging branches.

Renard realised what they were going to do and started straining at the leash. She caressed the smooth bone of his skull. He looked back with an expression of eyeless joy.

It was a little longer than she'd expected before they got to the place. She could reach through from almost anywhere, but it was a matter of elegance.

And collateral damage.

The spot was perfect: a clearing where very little grew. Stagnant water sat in a bowl formed between two rocks. She lifted her skirts, dipped a toe in it, and used it to draw a circle in the bare earth. The lack of tree cover meant the rain was coming down, but she didn't have hair anymore, so it wasn't so much of a problem. Not to mention that it wouldn't take a lot of power to dry herself out so long as there were a few minutes between this and rescuing Steph.

Penny reached out. The connection between places was like the tolling of a bell. It occurred to her that she'd forgotten to check what the time would be at home. Hopefully, it would be alright.

A long, thin shadow appeared in the circle, then another. Slowly they smoothed themselves out: a male figure, with broad shoulders. His head was an eyeless, defleshed deer skull.