The Shrike & the Shadows by A. M. Wright & A.M. Wright

Author:A. M. Wright & A.M. Wright [Gadoury, Chantal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Parliament House

Hans opened his eyes to the faint screaming of his own voice.

Another night without sleep, he thought miserably.

Sitting upright, he licked his dry lips and gazed around the fire. Greta was on her bedroll, sound asleep, and Barin’s eyes appeared to be closed. He expected that the two of them would have woken upon hearing his scream, but they remained still and silent. Perhaps it had only been a part of his dream.

Hans moved to what remained of the fire; the flames had diminished to red, hot cinders and charred pieces of wood. The forest surrounding them felt lighter, as if some of the shadows had lifted and dark overcast had brightened. Perhaps that meant it was morning. There was an unmistakable vibration of newness in the air—a sensation that came with every dawning of a new day. Hans could feel prickling against him, seeping into his skin like weightless kisses that woke his bones and sore limbs. And though there were no birds chirping to wake them, no sunshine streaming in from the cracks of their old cottage window and door, Hans still felt the rush of relief at being whole for another day.

He breathed deeply.

Despite the fact that night had passed, he still missed being home, sleeping in his own bed… and a few others. The emptiness Hans felt inside was easily filled by the time he spent with a new lover. Without another’s warmth to accompany him into slumber, he felt uncomfortable and alone. He did not enjoy being the peace that came in the silence of his mind, especially not now, when the witch played dirty tricks and the woods were as auspicious as the dream he had dreamt.

Hans looked down at his hands.

Dirt and blood stained his skin; it was even caught beneath his fingernails. He picked at them mindlessly, hoping to keep himself from reliving the dream. But even then, his mind wandered to those dark places. If it was not his mother and Greta dangling from ropes in a tree, then it was Brugg’s body impaled upon a thick branch. Death was everywhere his mind wandered. He could not keep their phantoms at bay.

“You must learn to hunt, Hans. Kill the thing that stalks you,” his father had said. “Or it will kill you first.”

“I don’t remember that being part of the lesson,” he mumbled to himself.

The dream had been in part a memory, as most were, and it had changed itself into something strange and false. His father had been unrecognizable.

Behind him, Greta grumbled and shifted. A calmness settled over him as he strained to look in her direction.

“Greta,” he said as he stood and knelt down beside her. “It’s morning.”

She yawned and rolled over, peeping one sleepy eye open. “I’m awake.”

“It seems your beast neglected his shift and fell asleep.” Hans sneered, gesturing to the still form of the man. “I won’t be the one to wake him.”

Greta sighed as she slid a loose curl behind her ear and pushed herself upright.

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