The Lawrence Watt-Evans Fantasy by Lawrence Watt-Evans

Author:Lawrence Watt-Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, ethshar, dragon, unicorn, short stories
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2017-03-20T04:00:00+00:00

OUT OF THE WOODS

Jenny slammed on the brakes and prayed the car would stop in time; the man who had stumbled onto the road in front of her showed no sign of moving out of the way, he was just standing there.

The tires squealed, and the car slewed sideways and came to a stop—and the man wasn’t there. Jenny kept her hands locked on the steering wheel as she turned her head and stared out the passenger-side window.

She saw only empty road, huge dark trees, and drifting wisps of mist.

Had she imagined it? These English roads were narrow and winding and made her nervous, and the thick surrounding woods were spooky, but she hadn’t thought she was far enough gone to be hallucinating.

Getting out of London for at least a few days of her month in Britain had seemed like a good idea, but right now she wasn’t at all sure it hadn’t been a major mistake.

The rental car had stalled, and she decided against trying to start it right away; instead she turned off the ignition and got out, pocketing the key.

She looked around, at forest on either side, at the empty road curving out of sight in either direction.

And then a muddy shape rose up out of the roadside ditch, not a dozen feet away, and she almost screamed, but at the last moment managed to turn it into a gasp.

It was the man, the man she had almost run down—he must have flung himself into the ditch at the last instant.

“Are you all right?” she called, once she’d caught her breath.

“Aye,” he said.

Jenny grimaced. Only in rural Britain would anyone who spoke English say “aye” instead of “yeah.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you sooner,” she said. “Do you need a lift somewhere?” The rental car company wouldn’t like it if she got their upholstery all muddy, but she was paying enough that they could afford to clean it, and she had almost run the fellow down—a lift seemed like the least she could do.

“How do you say, lady?” the man replied—or at least, that was her best guess at his words. It might almost have been “lad” instead of “lady,” but she gave him the benefit of the doubt.

His accent was one she’d never heard before—British, certainly, but an unfamiliar variant; she couldn’t even be sure it was English. For all she knew, it was Welsh, or Scottish, or even Australian or South African.

And apparently her American accent was giving him a little trouble, too.

“Do you want a ride?” she said, speaking slowly and loudly and, she hoped, clearly.

The man eyed the rental car, then looked Jenny over. “Aye,” he said at last. “And my thanks to you, lady.”

This time it was definitely “lady.”

“Get in, then,” she said. She climbed in on the driver’s side—the right, that is, a fact she still wasn’t entirely used to.

The man approached the passenger side hesitantly and stood, looking down at the door.

Impatiently, Jenny leaned over and opened it for him.

He

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