The Shepherd and the Reaper by Breanna Bright

Author:Breanna Bright [Bright, Breanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Empress Publishing

Traverse swung the scythe methodically, lost in the whoosh of the blade through the grass. It had gotten tall, and little saplings had sprouted, but that was to be expected this time of year. Pausing her work, she looked up into the forest with a frown.

It was Creeping Bones, that was what Ruby had said. Traverse would have shrugged it off as a childish attempt at attention-seeking, but Ivas seemed to take her words seriously, had given his own cryptic message. What were the two of them hiding? Why did Ivas really bring Ruby here?

“Come on, Blanc,” Traverse said, shouldering her tool. The dog perked up and jumped to her feet as Traverse slipped between the trees. There was a creek in the woods, shallow and usually dry, except during the spring rains. It made a U-shape, looping close to the farm but not crossing the boundary before continuing its journey through the forest.

The foster kids used this creek as a guide for wilderness adventures, a way to keep from getting lost. That was why they told stories of Creeping Bones. Traverse didn’t know where the legend began, but the point of it was to keep kids safe.

“Don’t go into the woods alone,” Traverse said out loud. Blanc glanced at her. “Creeping Bones will rearrange the trees and turn you in circles so you can’t find your way home. Stay to the creek because when it gets dark, that’s when it gets you.”

The creek had high dirt walls tangled with tree roots and shelves of rock. It was beautiful and wonderfully fun. Even as a young woman out of her childhood, Traverse liked climbing up on the rocks and crawling under logs. There were some puddles of water here and there, clogged with leaves and rippling with the dances of pond skaters. The goal was to walk as far as you could until the water became too deep to pass or the brush too thick.

“There was once this kid,” Traverse told Blanc, “that liked to go off into the woods by himself. He wouldn’t follow the rules. So, one day, Bram took him on a walk. They went a couple of miles out, and then Bram hung his hat on a tree branch and told the kid to lead them back to the farm. The kid tried, but after an hour, they ended up back at the tree with Bram’s hat. They had made a big circle.”

Traverse paused and used her scythe to cut away a thick bramble of thorns from their path. “That’s how Bram is. He doesn’t tell you not to touch the electric fence, he takes a pork steak and throws it on so you can see what will happen.”

Once the way was clear, they continued on.

“I guess my point is, would Bram make up a story about a monster? Connie wouldn’t—she hates scaring kids.”

Blanc had no input on the matter, interested in sniffing a stick instead.

“And if they didn’t make up the story, where did it

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