Vices and Vixens by Brie Tart

Author:Brie Tart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brie Tart

11

I flew over the small island off the northern coast of Eire. Great cliffs rose on one side of Tory while small settlements dotted the flatter end. I spread my senses as I circled over the water and searched for a suitable place to land along the uninhabited half of the isle. No faint whine from any iron aura, only crashing waves and racing winds. Yet Daniel had told me Balor’s old fortress held the hermit.

I swooped in to the highest peak of a gathering of rocky ledges, the very same spot where King Balor of the Evil Eye had built the tower that held his daughter prisoner. A gnarled figure in nothing but a homespun tunic hunched over an edge nearby. This must be the hermit Father Daniel spoke of. He squatted, seeming to lie in wait for something.

I hopped off my perch and glided in for a closer look. While I should withdraw my aura completely to avoid detection, I needed to use some of it to guide air currents and keep me aloft. If only I were better at flying. Mama always said it was my father’s blood that called me to solid ground. My arms ached far more as wings than when they had paws in my fox shape. It was a relief when I landed my taloned feet upon a patch of grass and closed my wings a short distance from where the stranger crouched.

The hermit twisted his face toward me with a loud crack of his vertebrae. Silver hair stuck up from his head in a wiry halo, seeming to intertwine with his tangled beard. A sudden gust slammed me with his scent. The man’s leathery hide stank of salty brine from the ocean and a more fetid stench that sent me reeling back. I flapped my wings and diverted the wind to flow around me rather than into me. It wasn’t an accumulation of unwashed sweat and grime. I’d never come across a human with such a visceral odor—like fresh pitch painted over aged peat turf.

He came to his feet and balanced upon the ledge by his toes. His uncanny poise held his precarious position as the wind whipped his hair and tunic. He only blinked down at me as he cocked his head to one side. Did he consider catching me for his dinner? Worse, could he sense my true nature?

He registered as nothing more than another feature of the rocky landscape to my senses. Even humans had an energy that made them distinguishable from nature’s interconnected web of flora and fauna, though its subtlety made them easy to overlook. I had never encountered a creature who blended with their surroundings so much that I couldn’t feel their presence at all. I shuffled forward to study him closer.

The bony man’s creased appearances flickered to a chaotic jumble of undersea and land-bound rocks wearing a cloth sack. His tanned flesh turned pale and porous, his wrinkles became jagged crags. The mossy weeds that replaced his nest of hair wrapped around a single curling horn on the right side of his head.

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