It was a pretty little village that the hooded stranger and his hunchbacked companion wandered into not long before sunset. Nestled among the hill country of the far eastern border with its neighbour it had a delightful view into the land below and also looked up to the enormous mountains behind it. There were pine trees and furs all over the countryside, the kind that stayed evergreen despite their branches weighing heavily with crystal white snow that shone brightly in the sunlight. The snow iced the rooftops of the village as well and it had coated the hard packed dirt roads also but these had been swept partially clear. Despite the chill, the sunshine made everything bright and happy, a stark contrast to the mood of the villagers.

Though there was an hour or so left of pleasant sunshine, the villagers were already packing up their market stalls, closing up their windows and barring doors as fast as they could. The stranger looked around the centre of the town which widened out into a rough square, noting the sloped roofs, the layer of crystal white snow across the earth toned tiles. The walls of the village buildings were either white washed or cream with dark brown and black trim and were often three stories high with the third being a loft with a single window in the middle. Even these were being shut and barred and before the stranger and his companion had reached the half way mark, the village felt deserted.

“We’ve come to the right place.” The stranger said darkly. His companion nodded then pointed a gnarled, blue grey finger towards a crack in a doorway.

A tubby man with a hefty ginger brown moustache looked out and gestured wildly for them to come forward. He was nearly wetting himself by the way they took their time in crossing the cobblestones and he grabbed their arms and dragged them inside.

“Get out of ze open!” He hissed and slammed the door behind them. They were ushered into a room lit by a roaring fire and two candles on the table at the far end. There was a smell of wet wool and animal manure in the air. It was not entirely unpleasant but then it wasn’t overwhelmingly strong either. The stranger looked at the man who pushed the bar into place and then checked that the windows were completely covered with heavy dark fabric. He turned around and mopped his forehead free of the layer of sweat despite the chill in the air.

“It is very foolish my friend to travel after sunset in zis country.” He remarked, decidedly calmer now that the door was barred again.

“You opened your door.” The stranger looked around the room that was warm from the fire. His hunchback companion had found an armchair and had sat herself in it without so much as a ‘by your leave’. “Who is the greater fool?”

“I could always ‘ave left you out zere to be an easy target. ‘ad I done so, we mightn’t ‘ave lost any sheep tonight.”

“If you feared for their lives, you should have brought them inside also.”

“I ‘ave.” Their host opened a door that led into the side building and immediately the smell of wet sheep become potent. The darkness was filled with heavy, panting bodies and their hooves made a clatter on the ground. He shut the door. “My name is Odilon.” Odilon’s ginger brown moustache was matched by his ginger brown hair with a decidedly stubborn curl to it on his head. His cheeks were ruddy and his eyes were brown. He wore an apron which he removed and hung up on a peg.

“Jerome. Rozenn.” Jerome nodded to the grizzled woman half falling asleep with her chin on her chest, her body consumed with the travelling clothes she had neglected to take off before sitting down. The stranger removed his fur lined cloak and hood. Beneath he was a strapping, heavy set man with dark brown, almost black hair tied back from his chiselled face and strong chin. His pack had a sleeping mat tied across the top and there was a distinct sound of metal inside of it. Assuredly he kept his weapons or trade tools bundled up inside, either to keep them concealed or because they were simply easier to carry that way. Possibly both.

Odilon managed to curb his curiosity by clapping his hands together. “Well met, my friends. Now to supper.”

Odilon supplied quite a good meal of stew with potatoes, carrots and solid squares of meat in a thick, brown sauce. Rozenn slurped through missing teeth and Jerome consumed twice as much as Odilon. Their host eyed Jerome’s heavy pack and travelling cloak.

“You are ‘ere on business?”

“Business.” Jerome nodded.

“What kind of business?”

“I will answer your question if you answer mine.” Jerome tore off some bread and wiped his bowl out. “What troubles this place?”

Odilon’s ruddy complexion paled. “On ze other ‘and, a man’s business is ‘is own.”

“So you will opt for cowardice then?” Jerome glanced out of the corner of his eye to see what effect his insult had. Odilon didn’t look offended, only ashamed.

“What choice is zere?” He asked quietly.

Jerome fished a flask out of his satchel and held it out to Odilon. “Wine, from the low country.”

They shared a cup each and after the rich libation had given Odilon back a drop of his courage, he began to talk, his tone thickening with accent. “We’d ‘eard stories from other villages, of a creature in ze mountains zat was tormenting zeir ‘omes and wrecking ‘avoc upon zeir lives. We zought zey were mere tales of fancy, of people with too much time on zeir ‘ands.”

“Really?”

“You ‘ave to understand, ze creature zey described was impossible!” Odilon argued. “Zat it ‘ad ze body of a bear, ze tail of a wolf, ze wings of a dragon, ze head of a boar and ze eyes of a human! What kind of creature could zat be?”

“What could a creature of that kind do?” Jerome mused into his wine.

“We soon found out. Six weeks ago at ze start of winter we woke to find a field of sheep slaughtered, blood and carcasses strewn about with jagged bite marks torn from zem. Ze blood on ze snow was so very red…and bright…” Odilon swallowed.

“It could easily have been a bear that had not yet gone into hibernation.” Jerome pointed out.

“Zat is what we zought at first and so we locked ze animals up ze next night. Ze next morning, ze bar ‘ad been lifted and we’d lost anozer dozen sheep.”

“The bar was smashed along with the door you mean?”

“No. I mean what I say. Ze bar ‘ad been lifted from ze door and tossed aside.” Odilon shivered. “We started bringing ze animals inside our ‘omes, hoping zat ze creature wouldn’t enter a populated village. We should ‘ave listened to ze stories of ze other towns. We should ‘ave taken ‘eed.”

“I take it the creature has not come every night.” Jerome remarked.

“‘ow could you possibly know zat?”

“It has been six weeks since the start of winter. You would have no sheep left to give if it had attacked every night.”

“Well you are right. Ze creature seems to go away for a few nights and zen returns. But we do not know where it goes or when it will return.” Odilon heard a bang outside and jumped. Jerome got up and peered through the curtain. He could see nothing. “It ‘as been several nights now since it last attacked. It will not stay away forever.”

“Why haven’t you hunted it down and killed it?” Jerome demanded as he stayed at his post, looking out to the street.

“Fresh snow fall obscures ze tracks and when zere are tracks, zey lead far up into ze mountains and we dare not stay out at night.”

“What about attacking it when it comes into the village?”

“No one is willing.”

“What about when it takes a child? Or kills an entire family? When will you stop hiding behind cowardice and return your village to safety?”

Jerome’s tone was lacking in all sympathy and the rebuke hit home to Odilon. He lowered his head. “We are not capable of dealing with zis creature.”

Jerome huffed, closed the curtain and strode over to his bedroll. He flicked it out, a crossbow, axe, sword and other weapons we revealed in its soft folds. Odilon stood up and looked down in horror, no doubt wondering if he’d let a killer into his house when Jerome picked up his axe and tested the edge.

“What is zis?” Odilon asked in a tremulous voice, possibly starting to wonder at the wisdom of his compassion at welcoming the strangers into his house.

“You asked me what business I was in.” Jerome looked at him. “I am your salvation.”

The night awarded no visitation from the creature and in the light of day, when the village unsealed its doors and ventured beyond their thresholds, Odilon began to muster a crowd. When a significant portion of the population had gathered, stamping their feet and blowing into their hands, he stood up on a box.

“Friends!” He called. “I bring good news!”

“You’re going to shave ze moustache off!” Jerome, leaning against a building in the shadows gave a light huff. There was a joker in every crowd.

“A visitor came to our village last night, one ‘o can rid us of zis doomsday creature!”

There was a large amount of muttering, whispering and downright blatant doubt in the face of this audacious claim.

“I zink Odilon ‘as been getting ‘is days and nights mixed up!” Another man called out, pretending to drink.

“It’s true!” Odilon looked around. “Don’t you want to be free of zis calamity? Don’t you remember what it was like to be able to walk ze streets at night and ‘ave our animals roam in relative safety?”

“Look what ‘appened to ze town up from ours! Zey stood against the creature! Zey tried to trap it to kill it! Zree men dead and zen it went on a rampage and destroyed several buildings! We cannot risk something like zat happening ‘ere.”

There was a round of agreement with the last statement and Odilon began to falter. Jerome took this as his moment to step up. With his impressive height of six foot five and the bulk to match, he had no need to stand on a box in order to tower over Odilon. The jeering quickly stopped and everyone stared at him in awe.

“My name is Jerome Deval and I am a dragon slayer, a beast hunter and a demon killer. I have sniffed out the scent of this creature for its aroma offends me…as does the stench of cowardice.” The people flinched and turned away in shame. “Are you ready to take back your homes, your village and your peace of mind? Have you had enough of the terror and the vile presence of this creature that does not belong?”

The people began to murmur their approval of Jerome’s words but there was always one to speak up. “‘o are you to say zese tings? It is not as if it is your life zat will be risked should you fail! You could speak lies for all we know!”

The next instant this particular naysayer was pinned to the wall of the house behind him by two small throwing axes, their sharpened edges a hair’s breadth from cutting flesh instead of cloth. Jerome waited for the awestruck and somewhat terrified eyes of the people to look to him. He folded his arms.

“Well…now you know.”

Odilon could tell that the people’s opinion was ready to be harvested. “What would you ‘ave us do Jerome Deval?”

“All resources and tradesmen are to be made available to me and that everyone in the village must do exactly as I say.”

“And I suppose you’ll want to be paid for such considerations as well!” The man, who was still pinned to the wall, called out, trying to salvage anything left that he could of his pride and reputation.

Jerome strode towards him and yanked the axes out with ease despite the fact that they were deeply embedded in the wood. “I want no gold from you. Just do as I say and I promise you, the next time the creature appears…it will be the last.”

The villagers let out a yell of victory and Jerome was quick to hand out tasks to be done and to find out what he had available. An hour later the town square was a flurry of activity with Jerome standing in the middle, watching the work with careful eye. Odilon was doing his best to get in everyone’s way, bossing them about and reassuring them that they had chosen the right path to follow. In the madness, no one had noticed Jerome’s aged companion that came shuffling up to his side and tugged on his sleeve.

Jerome immediately halved his height by kneeling so that she could whisper in his ear. As Odilon approached he thought he heard the words, “I need it to snow.”

She cackled and shuffled away. Odilon cleared his throat and waited until Jerome had stood up before approaching him with a length of rope. “Philippe says he ‘as five times zis amount and zat Gerard ‘as ze rest in a less dense weave.” Jerome took the rope and studied it intently. Odilon glanced over at Rozenn who was rasping into a barrel of water and nodding seriously. “Is she your mother?”

“She is probably old enough to be my mother’s mother.” Jerome handed the rope to Odilon. “Bring it all. Where is the calico?”

“It was a lot to ask. Ze women are sewing everything zey can find into a double layer, even curtains and tablecloths.” Odilon looked back at Rozenn. “Is she…”

Jerome’s meaty hand clamped on his shoulder. “I have learnt that it is better not to ask.”

And snow did fall. Even though there had been no hint of it, the sky suddenly filled with clouds and the whitest, thickest snow drifted down and the village was nearly consumed. All too soon the light vanished and night quickly settled in, bathing the frosted village in blue. Every door was barred, every window was shut tight and there wasn’t a single glimmer of light from any crack or crevice.

Yet Jerome knew that not a single person in the village slept.

He was hiding in a loft, looking down into the town square through a window that was one third open. His well trained eye could see the pulleys, the ropes that were half hidden by pipes or eaves but to anyone else, it was just a town square blanketed in soft snow. Even the ropes that were strung across the square could have been mistaken for clothes lines…except for the fact that they were at least two stories high and far from anyone’s reach. There were several entrances into the square but Jerome had made sure the creature would come one way and one way only. The lure of blood was a far greater asset than a blocked passage. He flexed his fingers and toes, well trained not to move despite the chill in his bones.

The clock stuck one in the morning and then there was a shadow coming down the passage Jerome knew it would. It was big. Even though shadows were not accurate in measuring size, the creature that cast this could not have been less than the biggest bear Jerome had ever tracked and killed. It was well possible that it was even bigger. It thudded into the square on all fours, snuffling at the edges of the houses, drawn by the sheep blood they had dripped all the way into the middle of the square where its carcass had been strung out on a spit. It was impossible to entirely tell what the creature was but it matched the description of what he was hunting.

He tensed as the creature stopped, refusing to come any further into the square, not willing to risk the open area for a possibly easy meal. Jerome sat up slightly, realising that the creature wasn’t a dumb animal. It had reasoned that if it looks too good to be true, it probably was. He lowered the crossbow, knowing instinctively that it wasn’t deep enough into the square to be snared in the net but not willing to lose this opportunity.

Suddenly something move out into the square. By its shuffling gait and the fact that it clearly wasn’t afraid of the creature, it had to be Rozenn. Jerome’s jaw tightened. She trusted in his skill not to let her be killed for she knew that the creature was driven to kill…sheep, men or women…it made little difference.

The creature saw her, bellowed and without hesitation, charged with all its might. Jerome let fly with the crossbow which struck a counterweight. The effect was almost too slow for Rozenn to have kept her life as the rope was pulled through the pulleys at speed and then, as they had crossed the ropes over the town square, the calico beneath the snow whipped up, the corners dragged in opposite ways so that the creature was wrapped in the thick cloth in three seconds flat…barely two feet from Rozenn who hadn’t moved a muscle.

Jerome had immediately stood up, replacing his used dart for a special one dipped in concoction of Rozenn’s make. His arm muscles bulged as he dragged the wire up, slotted the dart in and brought it back up to the crack in the window, his eyes never leaving the writhing, roaring form of the creature, determined to get out of its fabric prison. Jerome fired the dart and immediately left the loft, running downstairs, taking up his axe. He burst out into the square and saw that the creature had managed to slash some of the fabric and might have escaped except for the poison creeping through its veins. Had he hit it with the dart first Jerome knew it would have made its escape and possibly disappear into the night. It writhed within its net, incensed at its capture. Its screamed roar could probably be heard in the valleys below as it echoed all around but even as Jerome approached, its writhing had become less and it was heaving mightily.

Its great snout was sticking out of the net, tusks and teeth barred at Rozenn and stinking of rotten meat. Jerome had his axe up over his shoulder as he came closer but Rozenn, despite being completely unarmed, was unafraid and stepped closer. She began to speak in a language that made Jerome’s skin crawl as her blackened, cracked nails reached up to stroke its exposed fur. Its howling died down and its struggles became twitches. With her tiny hands she grabbed its snout and with strength that defied her age she pulled it down so she could look into its eyes. Almost immediately she looked away.

“Not it?” Jerome sighed then jumped back, dragging Rozenn with him as teeth chomped down scant inches from where she had stood a moment earlier. He swung his axe and went for its neck. Rozenn yanked him back and the blade skipped past its mark, saving the beast. “What!? You want it to live? You’ve seen what it is capable of, what it nearly did to you! Why do you spare its life?”

Rozenn looked back at the creature. Though it had not the strength to fight them off, its eyes blazed murder at them. She grinned with what few teeth she had left.

“Bait.”

Jé Kinah made sure the hood of her cloak was up and over her ears and she pulled her gloves up as high as they would go before entering the city. An elf was bad enough but one as disfigured as she was sure to attract attention…the wrong attention. Still, the amount of people that populated the city was something of a marvel to her, thinking there could not be this many people living in the entire world, let alone in one city, and she simply blended in to the chaotic background as one of the crowd.

There were streets lined with tall houses behind walls of stone and steel where beautiful carriages were pulled by horses of breeding along cobblestones. And then there were parts of the city that were little better than slums, shanty houses slumped against each other in a desperate bid not to topple over. The stark contrast between the two classes was as clear as if someone had built a twenty foot wall between them and while some lived in excessive opulence, others starved in abject poverty. This city was known as the city of love but she could not see much evidence of it as she moved deeper into its dirty interior.

Had she had the option she never would have ventured within its borders. But when someone had decided that the lives of innocent people were worth the risk in order to garner more gold to line their pockets, they had made it impossible for her to do otherwise. Just as long as no one spoke to her or looked too hard at her pointed ears.

Eavesdropping of casual conversations, and scavenging a discarded newspaper that was caught between the bars of the gate to someone’s house, directed Jé Kinah into the heart of the city. Or so she thought. An elf’s sense of direction is second to none yet somehow she had managed to be turned around and heading out the wrong way. Fortunately she only had to ask one sensible local who directed her to the river. It led her all the way into the heart of the city. And then it was simply a matter looking for the tent.

The tent had been set up in a large open area. Before it, some small distance away, was the four footed base which was the beginning of something remarkable made out of steel. The area around it was a bevy of dark and white skins working together, for the most part, to get the job done. If the size of the base was anything to go by, it would be a tower to touch the heavens with.

Humans were always trying to reach for the impossible. It was as frustrating as it was endearing.

And also a little frightening. Jé Kinah had learnt firsthand that bad things could live in the clouds.

But her attention was not on the tower works but on a travelling freak show. It was within the large tent of striped red and white. There were two entrances to the tent. One was at the front where a ticket counter sat and the one at the back that led into a semi circle of gypsy-like carriages where the performers lived. There were several large, dark skinned men patrolling the outside of the tent where dirty boys tended to hover, hoping to sneak in when their back was turned.

Before the ticket booth, with little printed pamphlets in their hands, were two priests. They wore generous black robes with lapels of white and purple over the front. One was tall and spindly and the other was as round as a barrel and waddled, rather than walked, towards people who were attempting to reach the ticket booth.

“Steer clear of ze obscenities of ze earth! Keep yourself pure from ze evil temptations within!”

“Repent and be saved!”

They were annoying those trying to buy a ticket and before long a large, beefy coloured man strode up and ordered them on. The barrel priest began to argue but the tall priest ushered his companion along. Jé Kinah noticed that they did not go far…but far enough to appease the man who now stood watch at the door. Now her way was clear to enter the tent…even though she really didn’t want to. Jé Kinah looked in her purse. She only had a couple of dwarf crystal tears and a few copper pieces left. Travelling in heavily populated areas had depleted her funds considerably. She wasn’t sure what she would do when she ran out.

Life was easier when it didn’t involve people.

She took out a copper piece and handed it over to the booth keeper who handed her a grubby stub and pointed her inside. “Next show starts soon.”

Inside the tent it was dark, hot and stunk of sweat and urine. On the outside the tent looked solid and impenetrable but on the inside Jé Kinah could see lighter spots in the fabric where it had almost worn through and pin pricks of light down the seams. There was a halo of light all around the base of the tent where it was pegged down but a great deal of this was obscured by the cages that made a loose semi circle. Jé Kinah joined the end of the crowd that was moving around the cages, peering at the spectacles within.

In one was a lady man, a bearded, mustached woman who, if paid enough, for proof that it was far from cosmetic. In order to do this there was a private viewing area at the end of her cage/sitting room (for what cage came with its own carpet, armchair and table). Those who paid the purveyor that stood by the cage could see just how far the lady man went. Jé Kinah watched as one man came away, white with shock at what he’d seen.

“No refunds.” The man said and ushered them on.

There was a couple of deformed individuals, one with feet that were five times as large as they should be and could hardly stand and the other with a head that was blistered and bulbous with tufts of hair all over. There were animals as well. In one was a ‘unicorn’ but the moment Jé Kinah laid eyes on it she could tell it was a farce. She could see a mermaid in a woman with legs and she could see a lovely white horse without a single glimmer of magic or touch of the fair folk upon it. On top of that, the curved horn had been knocked slightly and it was easy enough to spot the strap that barely held it in place.

Still, to the common masses, it was a unicorn and they gasped and pointed with appropriate awe.

The last freak was clearly the crowd bringer as it was at the far end of the tent and covered in a shroud made up of several pieced together fabrics. Jé Kinah was instinctively drawn closer, her senses tingling in the presence of an unnatural state.

I can smell you…witch…

Jé Kinah shivered and looked around. The way they were spoken, the way they resonated within her so that she felt every syllable, made her realise that no one else could hear them. Yet she was always amazed at how humans could only hear with their ears and that so much that was said went unnoticed by them.

Step closer…

“I would not do that miss.” A large man stepped in her path, breaking the hold it had over her. “The show will begin shortly. I would stand back if I were you.”

“What is in there?” She whispered.

“I have hunted all over the world but I had never come across something as foul as this creature.” He looked at the cage. “I swear it was spat out of hell itself.”

When he was satisfied with the distance she put between herself and the cage, though still closer than everyone else that gathered, the man moved out in front. Subconsciously she noted that he moved like a warrior, lithe despite his size and with great confidence.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” He announced. “My name is Jerome Deval and what I am about to show you is a creature, not from the bowls of Africa or India, the Far East or even from another country closer to where you are now. This vile creature was captured within the borders of your beloved country where it had tormented mountain villages until its capture three months ago!”

A murmur of approval rippled around the crowd. Jé Kinah heard the creature inside the cage huff.

“I present to you now, the greatest capture of the modern age, the beast!”

At his words the cover was dragged off the cage and suddenly the largest teeth Jé Kinah had ever seen threw themselves at the crowd, its entire weight bashing against the cage bars that groaned beneath the pressure. The crowd yelled in unison and one woman fainted and crumpled to the ground. Only Jé Kinah remaining perfectly still, fixed to her position, staring at the beast.

It should have been a bear. She had hoped it was a bear and yet she had known the whole time that it was not. Matted brown to black fur was all over its body and it stunk of rotting meat and sweat. Its enormous claws closed around the cage bars and squeezed with all its might, the squeal of metal causing another couple to sprint to the exit. Those who were brave enough, or foolish enough, to remain, stared at the beast in awe. Its thick tongue rolled around in its mouth, pushing up against the row of teeth and the pair of tusks that pushed out, turning up its lip in a permanent scowl, curved horns stretching out from the sides of its head like those of a male goat.

But what Jé Kinah found most fascinating, what she knew that few others had realised because they were too busy looking at its claws and teeth, was that its eyes were not the eyes of a beast or a creature of the night or even one of the fair folk like she was from.

This beast had human eyes.

“Who were you?” She whispered and felt its gaze bore into her. It gave a little grunt and snuffle and she felt compelled to step forward, knowing that it was begging to be touched, to be acknowledged.

“Miss!” Jerome grabbed her and yanked her back just as the beast slammed against the bars again, rocking the cage just that little bit more forward, its claws having missed her by the narrowest of margins.

I will tear you apart! I will drink of your blood and your carcass will be my bed!

The sheer savagery of the beast as it continued to bash itself against the bars and scream obscenities even gave Jé Kinah reason to pause and to doubt her ability. Jerome propelled her away from the cage. “Do not be fooled by its cooing and pathetic cries. This beast cannot be tamed by just anyone.”

“I suppose you are such a man?” Jé Kinah looked at Jerome, wondering if it was he who cast the curse. Jerome looked down on her, as he would almost anyone that he came across.

“Not I. It despises me and one day it will very likely kill me.” Jerome remarked without theatrics and Jé Kinah was surprised by his resignation to the fact. “But perhaps there is one who can tame this creature.” His voice became louder and he addressed his words to the crowd that remained. “Perhaps there is one that this beast could love. Perhaps all he needs is a commoner from amongst the people of this country…a woman no less.” Jerome swung his arm wide. “I give you the beast’s only weakness. I give you beauty.”

Jé Kinah saw a very young woman walking towards them from the back of the tent. Her feet were bare and she wore a yellow dress with cream trim of plain design but nothing could distract from her loveliness. Her skin was dark brown in a warm hue and her hair was a tangled mop of charred black ringlets. Her eyes were wide and bright and her lips were naturally coloured and full. She moved with a fluidic grace and looked, not to the crowd, but to the cage and the beast therein.

Jé Kinah immediately noted a change in the beast. It had stopped menacing them and its words that were heard by her and her alone were silenced. It had even forgotten about the crowd entirely. Its human eyes in its beastly face were fixated upon the uncommon beauty that had walked into their midst.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen…perhaps we shall tempt fate.” Jerome announced. “Toss a coin into the cage and our beauty will collect it. The more coins thrown, the longer she will be in the cage.”

Jé Kinah froze where she was. He couldn’t be serious! Despite the beast’s obvious fascination for the young woman, its killer instinct could override him in an instant and tear her apart. Jé Kinah knew. She had felt the same tug towards pure instinct during the deepest of her transformations. If it took her over completely she would not be able to tell friend from foe.

The cage clattered with coins and the beast snarled at them, its rage rekindled. Jerome led the beauty around to where the cage had a double door. He unlocked the first and the woman entered it. Once the first door was barred tightly she reached down and, closed her eyes in a silent prayer and calmed her presence. The gate opened and the entire crowd, including the she-elf and Jerome Dubois, stood at attention, unable to look away.

The beast cowered in a corner and shuddered as she fully entered the cage. She knelt and began to collect the coins and put them in the pocket of her dress. Her instinct would have been to rush the task and get out as soon as possible yet she made her motions methodical and picked up one coin at a time. Jé Kinah spared a brief glance for the beast. It seemed to have bowed its head, trying not to look at her.

One coin had fallen particularly close and Jé Kinah’s nerves were as strained as a tightrope as she quietly shuffled closer and reached out.

Its jaws snapped down scant inches from her fingers and she jumped back, fear all over her face. The beast clenched its jaw and reburied its head, its body quivering in its attempt to retain control. Quietly she reached out again and took up the coin then, one painstakingly slow, measured step at a time, she backed towards the gate, opened it and locked it behind her.

The entire cage rocked as the beast threw itself once more against the bars where she had just been standing. The beauty half fell down the step and into Jerome’s arms. He scooped her up like a feather and put her down on her feet, his arm around her protectively.

“Three cheers for the beauty that tamed the beast!”

The crowd roared its approval but could not drown out the malice of the beast.

I hate you! I hate you all! I will not rest until I bathe in your blood and feast on your flesh!

It thrashed around and howled until its cage was covered. When and only when, the beast was removed from her sight did the young woman look away from it. The crowd clapped and cheered, feeling that they had indeed received their money’s worth and then, because the show was over and the tent did stink, they filtered out into the bright sunshine. Jé Kinah managed to stay behind, hidden behind one of the other cages in the tent. She saw Jerome speak to the beauty who handed over all the coins from her pocket. Jerome tried to offer her a handful of the coins but she shook her head, yet kept her palm outstretched. Jerome then offered her a single coin which she took and walked away. He spent several seconds looking after her.

“Jerome Deval.”

Jé Kinah shied back into the shadows as a man in a very dandy outfit of bright blue walked into the tent with no less than four guards. The hunter turned and eyed the new arrivals with a somewhat surprised and yet also tedious expression.

“I am he.”

“I am Prime Minister Aubert to ‘is majesty, ze supreme and unsurpassed, King Louis.”

“And wearer of powdered wigs, heels, velvet and painted beauty spots.” Jerome remarked.

It was an apt description. Jé Kinah fought back the urge to giggle.

“Your common class impropriety will be overlooked as you ‘ave been granted an audience with ze King.”

“I requested no such honour.”

“It is not a request. It is a command.” Aubert walked around the cages, his nose turned up at the sights within. Any human ‘freaks’ had been allowed to leave their cages but the animals remained. “Your filthy little carnival ‘as attracted ze King’s attention. ‘e desires entertainment and escape from ‘is boredom. You will provide it.”

Jerome bristled at the casual way the Prime Minister saw fit to order him around. “And if I refuse?”

The Prime Minister looked as though that would give him great pleasure. “‘Zere are zose who ‘ave faced ze guillotine for less.”

Jerome’s fists unclenched and he sighed. “You give me no choice.”

“As any request of ze King should be taken.” He raised his eye brows. “You ‘ave not asked what your reward would be?”

“I imagine keeping my head on its shoulders would be a great reward.”

Aubert smirked. “‘ow odd it is zat we two should zink alike. I will send ze necessary luxuries to ensure zat ze King is lacking nothing. All you need do is provide ze entertainment. Tomorrow evening. Be ready or face ze dropping blade.”

Aubert and his continent of guards left the tent and Jerome ran his hands through his hair and growled. Jé Kinah was about to sneak out when she saw a grizzled woman enter the tent. She shuffled towards Jerome and waved her fingers.

“Yes, an audience with the King.” Jerome huffed. “Pompous, obese, hideous…” He saw her expression. “What? What is this in aid of? We have been here for weeks and still nothing! What you hoped to accomplish by dragging out this creature’s foul life span has clearly failed.” She pointed her bony fingers at him and he grunted. “Yes, yes I know! You keep promising the hunt of a lifetime. I rather wonder if all I have left to do on this earth is to slay an animal that is already my prisoner. Where is the honour and glory in that?”

He stalked out of the tent, leaving the old woman behind. She wove her fingers together and muttered intelligibly as she moved towards the cage. The beast, hidden within, could no doubt smell her and it grunted in her direction. She gave a maddening chuckle then turned and looked at Jé Kinah’s hiding place. Even though Jé Kinah knew she was in the shadows and unable to be seen by the sharp eyes of the hunter, let alone a half blind old woman, she shrank away from her gaze. The moment her back was turned Jé Kinah bolted for the flap in the tent and put some distance between herself and the creatures within.

The cool breeze and warm sunshine did its best to wash away the horrors of the tent and Jé Kinah spent quite a long time sitting at the base of a building that looked out over the square. The comings and goings of the people were overwhelming. They were from every class of life, from the humblest beggar child, to a grubby girl with roses in her basket to men and women dressed in the latest fashion who either walked quickly by the filth or rode in open top carriages, their faces turned from the squalor around them. The priests were there too, having re-established their position and calling out for those that walked within a few metres to repent and be saved.

Jé Kinah’s stomach rumbled but she ignored it as the young woman Jerome had called beauty came out from behind the tent. She crossed the dusty plaza to where the little flower girl was trying to sell her limp red roses. She smiled and handed over the single coin Jerome had given her earlier. The little girl’s eyes became round and wide at the generous payment for a rose. The beauty smiled, took up the rose and began to head back to the caravans.

Before she really knew what she was doing Jé Kinah was on her feet and hurrying over to the woman. “Excuse me!” She called out and the young woman turned to her. “I am sorry to bother you but, I was in the tent earlier and I saw you go into the cage with the beast…you must be incredibly brave.” The young woman smiled as if Jé Kinah’s words were kind…but a little ignorant. “I would not have the nerve to go within reach of its claws. But then perhaps it is a trick?” The woman’s eyes became a little sad. “My name is Jé Kinah. What is yours?” The young woman opened her mouth and touched her hand to her throat. “You cannot speak?” She shrugged and nodded. “I am so sorry. I did not mean to…”

“Repent and be saved for ze kingdom of God is at ‘and!” The barrel priest thundered over, seeing two stationary objects as viable targets. “‘ave you not known? ‘ave ye not ‘eard? ‘ave it not been told to you from ze beginning? ‘ave you not understood from ze foundations of ze earth? It is ‘e zat sits upon ze circle of ze earth, and its inhabitants are as grasshoppers. Zat ‘e stretches out ze ‘eavens as a curtain, and spreads zem out as a tent to dwell in.”

“Fascinating.” Jé Kinah tried to keep the bite out of her voice.

“Zus says God ze Lord, ‘e zat created ze ‘eavens, and stretched zem out. ‘e zat spread forth ze earth, and zat which comes out of it. ‘e zat gives breath to ze people upon it, and spirit to zem zat walk zerein.” The barrel priest was on a roll with his captive audience. “I, ze Lord, ‘ave called you in righteousness, and will ‘old your ‘and, and will keep you, and give you for a covenant of ze people, for a light of ze Gentiles. To open ze blind eyes, to bring out ze prisoners from ze prison, and zem zat sit in darkness out of ze prison ‘ouse.”

“You are the only one holding us captive.” Jé Kinah grumbled.

Before the barrel priest could continue Jerome suddenly appeared in their midst. “Are these men bothering you Giselle?” The young woman shook her head. At Jerome’s presence, the priest backed to where his tall companion had stayed. Jerome gave them a dark glare to make sure they understood that they were to stay there then looked back at Giselle and Jé Kinah. “Far too holy for their own good. Giselle, you should not leave the safety of the caravans.”

“She travelled a distance of not fifty feet.” Jé Kinah argued. “How is that in harm’s way?”

Giselle put her hand on Jerome’s arm before he could snap a reply and he visibly calmed. She did the same to Jé Kinah. Then she simply turned and walked back to the tent and caravans behind, and it seemed as though she took the sunshine with her. The dusty plaza was covered in a dull hue as the sun went behind the clouds that had rolled in quite suddenly. Jé Kinah went to ask Jerome something when she saw he was gazing after Giselle with a longing in his eyes that softened the hard lines of the face of a hunter.

He was in love with her!

The shock rendered Jé Kinah’s words silent and she hadn’t recovered when Jerome shook himself from his stupor and looked at Jé Kinah. “First you try to get too close to the beast and then you corner the only woman who can tame its fury. What are you after?” He pointed at the priests. “Are you one of them? Trying to save us? Or are you something else?”

“We are all something else.” Jé Kinah said then quickly followed up with. “She cannot talk? Yet she looks as though she wants to.”

“So?”

“It is unusual for a person who is born mute to have the instinct to talk. If she never could, why would she ever try?”

Jerome sighed. “She became mute.”

“An infection?”

“I do not know. She was simply delivering food to her father who works on that metal monstrosity behind us to provide for himself and his three daughters. From what I understand he had money at first but lost it all after a tragedy at sea. Gizelle offered me a rose to gain admittance. I saw no harm in it and allowed her into the tent and then…” Jerome shook his head. “That beast had raged day and night ever since its capture. Without Rozenn I do not know how I could have kept it contained. Yet the moment it laid eyes on Giselle, it became quiet and compliant. I told Rozenn about it that night and she suggested that I employ her as a means to keep the beast under control. I found her the next day…”

“Tracking in the stone jungle.” Jé Kinah remarked.

“Harder than some jungles I have traversed.” Jerome chuckled. “She was being examined by a physician because, overnight, she had become mute. I had hoped that Rozenn might have been able to restore her voice. She is capable of…many things…but she could not. The beast did not mind that she could no longer speak. It is still held captive by her.”

“And by you.”

Jerome’s jaw locked. “That beast had torn apart a number of mountain villages and killed men in the process before I captured it.”

“Yet you did not kill it.” He flinched. “You are a hunter. You hunt. You kill. You stuff it and mount the poor creature’s head on a wall over your mantle,” Jé Kinah’s voice was not without bitterness, “and yet here you are, day after day, performing the same routine for the masses. Your own, self made, prison.”

Jerome’s eyes narrowed and he studied her sharply. “You carry a bow and a quiver of arrows with you.” He said, changing the subject with little tact. Jé Kinah decided to honour it.

“Yes.”

“Are you any good?”

“Very.”

“Show me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I can feed your belly if you can provide some light entertainment for a special performance tomorrow night.”

Jé Kinah took out her bow and laid an arrow on it. She could hear the priests behind her shouting out their memorised verses. The shaft of the arrow sat comfortably in her hand and she whirled around, aimed and fired within a heartbeat. The arrow flew through the air, piercing the pamphlets that the barrel priest had held high. The arrow skittered to a halt many yards away, the wad of pamphlets still threaded on its shaft. The barrel round priest looked around in astonishment, his reaction delayed at best.

Jerome raised his eyebrows. “You promise to do that and a few other tricks tomorrow and you can eat at my table.”

“Agreed.” Jé Kinah shook his hand then walked away to get her arrow. She could hear barrel priest muttering angrily at her as she pulled the pamphlets off and rejoined her arrow with the rest in her quiver. She took the ruined pamphlets to the priests.

“I am sorry.” She said before they could berate her. “It was this or starve to death.”

“If you were in need of shelter or food, you could ‘ave come to our church.” The tall priest said. “Zere was no need to resort to circus tricks to pay your way.”

“I have a hard time accepting help from those who condemn the way others live their lives.” Jé Kinah said pointedly.

“Condemn?”

“I know the church does not approve of gypsies.” Jé Kinah gestured to the tent. “Are you telling me you would not want them moved on?”

Barrel priest spluttered and began to step forward but the tall one stopped him. “What goes on in zat tent is unkind and indecent.”

“Have you even been in that tent?” She challenged.

“You do not ‘ave to try evil to know evil.”

“So they are evil now? Those who are born different to you, look different, or who act differently, are all evil?”

“You talk of ze people. I talk of what is being done to zem. Ze exploitation.”

Jé Kinah blinked. “It is a hard world. More often than not we must make do with what we have.”

The priest leaned down. He was one who would see eye to eye with Jerome…although only in a physical sense. While Jerome had the tension of a bow string pulled tight, the priest had a fullness, a peacefulness that defied the atmosphere around him. “Are you telling me zat a man with feet so large zat ‘e cannot walk properly and is constant pain feels no resentment of ze fact zat ‘is deformity ‘as become ‘is means?”

“What would you have them do? And bear in mind that the church cannot take in every lost soul in the city. There are too many.”

“You ‘ave not seen our church.” He smiled and his face was suddenly lightened and softened. Jé Kinah noted for the first that that he had silvery hair in curling waves tied loosely at the nape of his neck. “All we want to do is offer a chance for change. If zey do not take it, zat is zeir choice. But at least zey ‘ave a choice. If we take away choice, we are truly lost.” He stood upright. “We shall return to zis place which you seem to despise. But if you are ever in need of sanctuary, just follow ze river.”

“How will I know the church from a dozen others?” Jé Kinah asked.

The priest smiled. “You will know it.” He bowed and, with his hand on his companion’s shoulder, moved from the square.

Jé Kinah watched them go, restlessness in her heart. Something about the priest’s peace contrasted with what she knew about the world. It was even different to his companion’s loud superiority. It was kindness, actions based entirely in love without strings attached and a deep well of humility. It was astonishingly impossible...and yet she had felt that calm, warm presence once before. That calm, warm, loving, unassuming...

She gave a little gasp, her heart constricting at the memory. Her eyes had welled up as she’d watched the priest walk away and suddenly she wanted to run after him and beg him to take her with him. Then she turned her back and strode to the tent and the caravans behind. The sun was beginning to set and the people were vacating the square. The workers were going home in the failing light and as she entered the gypsies inner sanctum, she saw that a large fire had been built up with a large pot of stew bubbling away over it. Those gathered there gave her suspicious glares. Jé Kinah looked around for Giselle or Jerome. Gypsies were not known for their acceptance of outsiders. Just when she had decided to turn and leave Jerome appeared out of a caravan.

“Take a place by the fire.” He said and looked around. “She is here at my invitation. Make her feel welcome.”

While the mood wasn’t welcoming, it had lost its animosity. Jé Kinah sat on the ground near the outside of the ring of light from the fire. Giselle saw her and brought her a bowl of stew.

“Thank you.” Jé Kinah looked for the rose but couldn’t see it. After a while Jerome came over and they discussed archery tricks for the following evening. Once that had been established he moved away to speak to some of the other ‘freaks’. The man who had a bulbous head looked at her through squinting eyes, half swollen shut by his condition and the one with huge feet rubbed the dried skin with some ointment and looked like he was in pain. The person who was both a he and a she sat on their own for most of the evening until Giselle came over and with him/her. She had a calming effect on those that would have been outcasts most of their life until joining the gypsies. Even without words she managed to convey tenderness.

Jerome watched her as well. Jé Kinah wondered what kind of man sent the woman he loved daily into a cage with a wild beast. She watched him watch her as she moved around the circle of gypsies, giving comfort to everyone there before going to the tent and slipping inside. When his eyes had moved off Giselle, Jé Kinah stood, slipped into the shadows, went around to the side, lay down and rolled under the gap at the bottom of the tent. A deep, rumbling sound could be heard as she waited in the dark, she realised that it was the beast talking. Not yelling or roaring. Just talking. Silently she made her way to the back of the tent and saw Giselle kneeling at a corner of the cage. The cover had been peeled back so that a portion of the cage was exposed.

Then Mordecai commanded the answer to Esther, ‘Think not that you shall escape in the king's ‘ouse, more than all the Jews. For if you ‘old your tongue at this time, then deliverance shall arise to the Jews from another place but you and your father's ‘ouse shall be destroyed. ‘o knows whether you ‘ave come to the kingdom for such a time as this?’

The voice was unlike the babble of the common throng or even anything like its voice when it screamed curses at anything that moved. It was cultured...refined...almost courtly. To Jé Kinah’s astonishment the claws of the beast could be seen pushing something towards Giselle. She took it, careful not to put her hands within the cage. Jé Kinah strained to see what it was. A book. She swallowed. The beast had been reading to Giselle?

Giselle stood up, clutching the book to her breast, tucking her dark ringlets behind her ear. She took the rose out of the pocket of her apron and slid it into the cage. The beast reacted as her fingers came too close and she drew back quickly. Although there was fear on her face, there was understanding too. She brushed off her knees and walked away.

Jé Kinah watched as the rose was dragged into the cage and then all was quiet.

I know you are there.

She jumped at the voice in her head. A voice that was heavy with anger and rage but that was still managing to communicate rationally despite all this.

I can smell you. I smell the earth. I smell the sky. I smell summer rains and winter sunshine…and I can smell decay…the scent of death.

Jé Kinah’s hand went to her vial as her heart began to pound. She could hear the beast moving about in the cage.

Did you enjoy our little show? Enjoying ‘ow you ‘ave tamed the beast with a beauty?

Jé Kinah frowned. “I think you have me confused with someone else.” She said.

Step out into the light.

There was a gap at the pinnacle of the tent and it let a little moonlight down onto the ground. Jé Kinah stepped out into it though her instincts told her to run. She heard the beast sniff.

What are you?

“I thought you knew.”

I thought you were the witch.

Jé Kinah’s eyes narrowed. “What witch?”

The one ‘o ‘elped capture me. The one ‘o keeps me ‘ere. The one ‘o took away ‘er voice!

Suddenly all restraint was gone and the beast rampaged around inside its cage, snarling at shadows and cursing in its dark voice. Jé Kinah waited for it to stop. Clearly everyone had grown used to the beast’s moods as no one came in to check on it.

“Do you speak of Jerome?”

Drool dripped from its chin. Jerome. It sneered. A child playing with a knife. I would ‘appily tear out ‘is throat given the chance. ‘is witch is ‘o I mean.

“Rozenn.” Jé Kinah came closer but chose a place further away than Giselle’s former position to kneel. “What happened to you?” The beast huffed. “I thought you liked to tell stories.”

Do not presume to know me! The beast snarled at her. You know nothing!

“Very well,” Jé Kinah sighed, “then Giselle will never speak again and you will remain a beast forever.”

The beast stopped, contemplating her words. You know I was not always this beast?

“Anyone who can look past your teeth and claws can see that your eyes are human. How much humanity is left…”

The beast cringed. I feel this form eating away at my soul…taking me over one day at a time. I am losing control. One day I will kill Giselle and I will not even know I ‘ave done so.

Jé Kinah brought her knees to her chest. “Tell me and maybe I can help.”

Why should I trust you when you stink of death like the witch does?

“Because I know what it is like, to face the inevitability of losing oneself in a form that has only anger and hate and death in its heart...to know that you will be responsible for countless deaths because of a foolish thing you said or did.” Jé Kinah said without room for argument.

The beast pressed against the bars, its only visible eye boring into her, searching for any hint of a lie. She bore its steely gaze well. After a moment it sat back on its haunches.

You too? It asked which surprised Jé Kinah. Usually humans loved to talk about themselves but it was hard to get this one within the beast’s form to do so.

“That depends on your story.” She urged.

It ‘as become blurred in my mind, as though it ‘appened to someone else and not to me… The beast breathed heavily and Jé Kinah could almost feel him reaching into his core and dragging out the human part of him that still existed. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been a prisoner of this form but it wouldn’t be long before the man inside was consumed and only the beast remained. I was a wealthy man I think. I remember an ‘ouse in the mountains. Perhaps a palace even? I remember the sound of coins, the feel of silk and furs…I remember this city.

“You have come here before?”

I remember being a guest…of someone…he wore a white wig and talked with fussy hands. And the church. We passed it on the way ‘ere. It was big. It is big. With stained glass windows…and the sound of singing. I should ‘ave liked to see it again. The beast shook its head. I do not think I was a good man for I recall knocking…someone knocking at my door…It was a wild winter’s night and…a woman…a beggar woman perhaps…she wanted shelter. She stank and ‘er nails were black and ‘er teeth were missing. I refused. In the next moment a thousand knives drove their way into me. I can still feel their burn… It clutched at its shoulder. The next I knew I was in the woods, chasing down deer. I stopped at a frozen lake and saw my reflection…I recognised my eyes…but not my face or my body or my ‘ands. I tried to go ‘ome but…my servants did not recognise me and until I met Giselle, none could understand me.

I was filled with more anger than I ‘ave ever felt before. I brought down trees, I attacked empty buildings…my anger only grew and grew and nothing I did satiated it. It hung its head. There were times I could not recall what I ‘ad done at all…but there was blood on my claws and I could taste it in my mouth.

As the beast spoke Jé Kinah felt a deadly chill in her bones. She knew his story. She knew it so well.

I was lured into a village. I could tell it was a lure. Maybe I wanted to die. But the ‘unter did not kill me and ‘ere I lived, day after day, for the mockery of this city’s inhabitants. It was torture of the cruellest kind and I tried to bash life itself out of me but this form does not die easily.

Then, one day…in walks the most beautiful creature I ‘ave ever seen. She did not stare at the freaks on display as most did. She was not ‘ere to satisfy her curiosity. She gave each one a rose, cut from ‘er own garden. Those roses made this place bright and brought in hope. I could not take my eyes from her. Then she was gone and the life that filled this tent for a few precious minutes went with ‘er. It opened its claws and the rose petals fell from its leathery palms, the rose crushed by its unnatural strength.

I ‘owled all night long, begging ‘oever might be listening for one more chance to see ‘er again. Then it ‘appened. She walked in with that…’unter…escorting ‘er. But there was something wrong. I felt something missing from ‘er. I tried to talk to ‘er, concerned that she was ‘urting but nothing passed my lips except growling. I did not know that she understood my concern.

She came to me that night and when I spoke, as you and I are speaking now, she nodded and ‘er eyes conveyed understanding. When she left that witch appeared. She said if I told Giselle of my natural form, of ‘o I was beneath this exterior, that she would kill ‘er. And I saw truth in ‘er eyes.

“So you have never told Giselle the truth?” Jé Kinah nodded.

And yet what does that do but prolong the inevitable? One day… It shook its head and Jé Kinah could see the beast attempting to take control over the human’s mind.

“What will break the curse?” She asked, trying to keep its focus.

True love. It shuddered and grasped the bars with its yellowed claws. True…love…

And the human was gone…and the beast was back.

I will strip the flesh from your bones and grind you up into pieces! I will fill the river with blood and crush your skull with my teeth!

It snarled and raged against the cage and Jé Kinah held no doubt that had it escaped, she would have been its first victim of many. She stood up, dusted herself off and went out of the tent. Outside the air was warm despite the lack of sunlight. Jé Kinah breathed in deep and could taste rain coming. It would break tomorrow night…possibly before.

Jerome was talking with Giselle who listened with kind interest before they were interrupted by someone pointing Jerome towards a caravan. Jé Kinah watched as Jerome excused himself from Giselle’s side and went to the caravan.

“Now who or what could have compelled you to leave your love?” Jé Kinah mused and ducked into the shadows. The fire had been put out and it was dark all around. It was not difficult for her to climb up onto a caravan and then, with the lightness of tread that comes naturally to an elf, skipped and leapt across the rooftops, hidden in the dark, until she came to the one Jerome had entered.

As silently as a feather she lay down on the roof, wriggled to the edge and leaned over so that she could hear the words clearly without being at risk of being seen.

“What are you talking about?”

“You call yourself a hunter! You do not even know when your prey is in your midst!”

“You tell me all the time to wait and to trust you and I was willing to risk it all for the greatest hunt of a lifetime. But now I start to question your sanity. There is no creature here!” Jerome’s voice was getting louder.

“Keep it down!” Rozenn snapped at him. “Do you want to alert it, cause it to run?”

There was a pause. “You are in earnest? The creature is here?”

“I smelt it the moment it arrived this afternoon. I could almost taste the rot in its teeth and the sulphur in its belly. I tell you the creature is here. The question is, do you want to know where it is or do you wish to retain some honour in spying it before it slays you?”

Jerome took a moment to contemplate this. “I do not wish to know. I will hunt it down and kill it myself. And then I will kill the beast and their heads will mount my wall and I will be able to tell the story with truth for it will be my own.” Jé Kinah flattened herself on the as Jerome stomped out of the caravan and strode towards his own dwelling.

In the quiet she could hear Rozenn stirring something, chattering away to herself.

“So dim. So vague in the mind. All the wonder of the world around them and they cannot see a demon creature…even when it is on my roof.”

Jé Kinah jolted upright. She looked down as the door to the caravan opened and a strange green glow poured out of it.

“Come down my darling, my pretty. Come.”

Jé Kinah sprinted to the end, leapt and somersaulted so that she was facing the doorway with as much distance as she could manage to put between them. Rozenn stood in the doorway with a calm expression on her withered face…but with fire in her eyes. Jé Kinah looked into her face, her heart beating fast despite the fact that she knew she could kill this woman in the same amount of time as it took to blink.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Rozenn wheezed. “All this trouble over a girl.”

“Trouble?” Jé Kinah whispered.

“Capturing a beast, dragging it halfway across the country…all for you.” She stepped down and held Jé Kinah’s gaze. “If it is what my mistress wants…”

“Your mistress?” Jé Kinah swallowed. “You mean the Queen?”

“I suppose she is. Or at least, she will be once she has covered the earth in ice and snow.” Rozenn stepped closer still. Jé Kinah’s feet felt like lead. “Run if you want. Run. That will give Jerome something fun to do. He has been nagging so for weeks. If he only knew…” She shook her head. “But no one would recognize you. Not like this. Tell me…how do you change?”

Jé Kinah’s mouth was dry. “Change?” She croaked.

“Now, now, let us have honesty between us. I know you are more beast than elf. How does it work? Is there a series of incantations, a key word or do you just reach inside of yourself and release it?”

Jé Kinah shuddered, firmly rooted to the spot. “I will not change for you. Not now. Not ever.”

“That would be a shame…” Rozenn moved towards her again and suddenly a rush of cold air hit Jé Kinah. She looked down and saw ice encase her feet and pin her to the ground. “After all…Jerome will not chase you if you do not look the part.” She clawed one of her hands and thrust it towards Jé Kinah. A force hit her, like a snowball only it could not be seen. It could only be felt and this one had barbs of ice sticking out of it. “Change,” she threw another one, “change,” she threw half a dozen more, “change!”

Jé Kinah held her hands up which were poor barricades against the icy onslaught. “I do not know how!” She gasped. “It happens on its own.”

“Nonsense.” Rozenn huffed. “All transformations have a trigger. Now change!”

Jé Kinah cowered as best she could from the blistering cold. She was sure her skin was ragged from the icicles embedded in it. From her cowered position she saw Giselle’s face appear from around a caravan. Her eyes became wide and round and her mouth dropped open.

“What is the beast’s trigger?” Jé Kinah called out. “If it works for him it may work for me.”

“He has no trigger. He is as he was in human form, a selfish, arrogant beast. All that can save him is the true love of a woman. Now imagine if that woman fell in love with him and set him free from his curse? Then we would not have a demon lure.”

“So you took away her voice,” Jé Kinah managed to tear one foot free of its icy hold, “so she could never say it.”

Rozenn grinned with what few teeth she had. “Upon pain of death. Besides, if I keep the beast alive, the human within will die and the beast will willing join the Queen’s army in the greatest war this earth has ever seen. Now change!”

Suddenly a frying pan of cinders was flung at Rozenn and hit her soundly in the head. She crumpled to the ground and Jé Kinah wrenched herself free. She fell over in her haste to run away and saw Giselle sprinting off into the night. Knowing her to be safe Jé Kinah did the same and let the shadows consume her.

But before they did she heard Rozenn scream out after her, “You cannot escape the darkness within! Sooner or later you will perish!”

Jé Kinah ran and ran and ran until she found a bridge and sprinted across it. She only stopped when she found herself in the shadow of the most enormous church she had ever seen. Three huge archways swallowed up the massive double doors in each at the base. Then there were parapets, carved from stone of, what she guessed were, saints. Then there was a huge stained glass window with more archways on either side of it. Then another, taller, layer of parapets and finally two towers that were as high on their own as the first two stories.

In its presence Jé Kinah suddenly felt very small and insignificant. And for some strange reason, that made her feel safe. After a quick look around to make sure she hadn’t been followed she ducked down the side of the church and found several deep crevices in the architecture where she folded her body and hid from sight. She shivered despite the warmth around her, from the chill within.

“Too much,” she whispered, “too much. I cannot…I just cannot…keep…going…” She clung onto the vial but tonight it gave no comfort. She could not sense the inner direction she had come to rely upon. She could not see his face as she once had. His memory of love was fading and being replaced by another…one who had looked shocked and hurt when she had seen him last. “Evan…I am so sorry…more sorry than you will ever know.”

She wept into her bent knees, trying to make herself as small as possible so that the world might pass her by. Yet when the sun rose, its golden light touching the giant church, caressing down its gargoyles, the arches, the curves and points of its structure, it gently nudged the she-elf who slept fitfully in her little nook. She opened her red eyes and winced at the figure that stood in the sunlight.

“Evan?” She croaked then, when the figure did not say anything a lump rose in her throat. “Luka?”

The figure stepped closer and any illusion she might have about it being one of the men she had named vanished as it turned out to be the tall, gangly priest.

“Father Seraphim.” He said. “I come zis way every morning to enjoy God’s creation. I did not zink I would find one of ‘is own ‘uddled like a gargoyle in ze stonework.” He reached out his hand and she took it without thinking, desperately craving someone’s compassion. “Come. Come into ze sanctuary.”

She was led, not through the front doors but through a side door near the back of the church. Inside it was cold and dark and she shivered.

“Fear not. I know zese ‘alls like I know ze scriptures. I could walk through ‘ere blindfolded and so never light ze candles.” He ushered her into a room that was bright with light and warmth. It was a large kitchen where the priests cooked. “It is empty at present. All ze priests were up and about ‘ours ago.” He sat her on a pew and put a bowl with thick porridge in it before her. “Eat. You look ‘alf starved.”

Jé Kinah tasted the honey and milk before she even got to the oats. She felt warmth filing her up from the inside out and when Father Seraphim put a coarse blanket around her shoulders the warmth spilled out of her eyes and she wept. Goodness knows how long she wept for. She couldn’t have stopped even had she tried. The priest said nothing but sat beside her, not so close as to encroach on her space but close enough that she knew someone was there. Eventually she gave in to her desperate need and leaned against him and he put his arm around her awkwardly. She knew in that moment that it had been a long time since he had been touched as well.

“Seraphim…what is ze meaning of zis?” His barrel shaped companion had entered the kitchen. “Cease zis impropriety in ze ‘ouse of God at once!”

“She simply needed to know she was not alone.” Father Seraphim moved away despite his words and looked down at her. “I zink it ‘as done ‘er ze world of good.” Jé Kinah looked up into his weathered face and couldn’t help but wonder if it had done him good as well. “You can stay for as long as you wish.” He assured her.

“You say that now,” she whispered, “but there would come a day when you would cast me out.”

“Never,” he said firmly, “if you but come and cry out Sanctuary, you would be welcomed ‘ere.”

“I did not say it before.” She swallowed.

“Zat is because I invited you,” he smiled, “although I zink you will not be long with us. Something about you tells me you ‘ave a task to complete, some greater purpose to your life.”

“I am no one.” She turned back to her oats.

“God knows every sparrow zat falls to ze ground and dies. ‘ow much more precious are you to ‘im?” Father Seraphim heard the other priest huff. “I ‘ave chores to complete. If you wish to leave, go through zat door and follow it to ze outside. If you wish to stay…I could use a ‘and polishing ze bells.”

Jé Kinah watched him walk to the doorway but before he had even left the room she called,

“Wait!”

And so it was that Jé Kinah spent the entire day polishing the countless bells that hung within the grand church. It was simple, methodical work and Father Seraphim did not insist on conversation. For hours Jé Kinah knew only the cloth in her hand and the surface before her. The mundane work gave her a chance to think, to ponder…to decide.

When it came time for the evening meal Father Seraphim found her pulling her cloak on.

“You are leaving us?”

Jé Kinah gave him a rare smile. “I have something I need to do.”

“If you need to do something zen you should do so,” he nodded, “but I will miss my polishing companion.”

“If I succeed in what I have to do, may I help polish the bells again tomorrow?” Jé Kinah heard her words and realised she was asking as a child would, desperate for her father to agree.

“Of course.” Father Seraphim smiled. “God bless you.”

“You too.”

It had taken Jé Kinah all day to work up the courage to return to the freak show tent, to Jerome and to Rozenn. When she arrived she kept hidden, observing the flurry of activity. It seemed that Prime Minister Aubert was going out of his way to make sure the King was entertained in a manner to which he had become accustomed. The tent had been removed and individual silk covers were draped over all of the cages, including the largest cage that the beast resided in. There was a roll of red carpet being laid out in a circle so that the King did not have to dirty his dainty shoes on the dusty ground. There were large candelabras with thick, white candles already lit flickering light onto the silk, the ground and the rose petals that were being tossed around. A throne like chair had been set up facing the cages and several more on either side of less opulent design. Around the entire arena was a line of soldiers, three men deep and standing at full attention. A crowd of commoners had gathered to look upon their monarch, kept well away by the King’s private security force. It would not do to have the monarch of the country adorned with rotten fruit.

Jé Kinah could see Jerome partly organising, mostly looking frustrated and anxious at the royal chaos. She couldn’t see Rozenn and wondered if the blow Giselle had rendered had killed the old woman. She wondered if she hoped that was the case. She could not see Giselle either.

She tapped on a soldier’s shoulder and told him to let her into the arena. He was about to refuse when Jerome spotted her.

“You!” He snapped, waving her in. “Where have you been?”

“I had to make myself scarce but I have returned as I promised to be here.”

“Are you prepared to do as we agreed?”

“I am.” Jé Kinah looked around. “Where is Rozenn?”

“I do not know. She was here…now she is not.” Jerome ran his hands through his hair. “Giselle is missing also.”

Jé Kinah wondered if he was more concerned about Giselle than Rozenn. “If neither appear, can you control the beast?”

“I doubt it can get out of the cage,” Jerome ushered her towards a caravan out of the path of a bevy of servants carrying ornate tables and white silk cloths, “but I did not bet on having its beauty missing.”

“You think that will enrage it all the more?”

“I think I will keep my crossbow handy.”

“I do not think a single dart will stop it.” Jé Kinah remarked.

“Rozenn made me a special potion to dip the dart into.” He looked at her sharply. “It will render it senseless. If I need to, I will use it.”

The King arrived with the most amount of pomp and ceremony that Jé Kinah had ever seen anyone insist upon. He was a corpulent man in a robe that did nothing to flatter his figure and it took four muscular footmen to help him down from the grand carriage that had brought him from his palace. Jé Kinah was not intimidated. Wealth and royal position had never meant much to her so when Jerome announced his archer of extraordinary skill, she stepped into the spotlight without a tremor of nervousness. She was uneasy at being so exposed perhaps but certainly not because of the illustrious nature her audience.

She was circled by a ring of the workers of the freak show and they each threw thin plates into the air at random which she shot down with ease. The ground was littered with broken porcelain which was swept up quickly by diligent servants and Jé Kinah gave a modest bow at the applause and moved to one side. The sky lit up with a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder pealed soon afterwards. It would not be long before the rain poured down.

“And now, your majesty and distinguished guests, I present to you some of the terrible deformities and unnatural creatures of this world.” Jerome announced. The King had to heave his corpulent form from his throne to view the creatures but he did so enthusiasm. Jerome escorted him around the ring of cages, explaining what each one was. The King peered at each freak without a shred of consideration for the poor person within who was the object of his attention. As they approached the final cage Jé Kinah noted that Jerome’s hand twitched slightly. His crossbow was not permitted to be on him while escorting the King and she saw him glance in its direction, hidden to one side.

“Zis is ze creature I ‘ave ‘eard so much about.” The King put his hands on his round belly and watched as the silk rippled, the beast shifted inside of it. “I did wonder if ze reports were exaggerated.”

“They are not and for your safety, your majesty, I would suggest stepping back.”

“I am King!” He declared pompously.

Jerome only just reframed from rolling his eyes, took hold of the sheet and pulled. The beast slammed its weight into the bars and the King yelled and fell backwards. He rolled around without a drop of grace until his footmen helped him onto his heeled shoes. He was red faced from embarrassment and exertion and he coughed to cover his shame.

“My, my,” he peered at the beast, now back at the line that Jerome said he should step back to before, “what a creature!” The beast’s nostril’s flared and it glared at the King darkly. “I ‘eard zere was a girl zat could tame it.”

Jé Kinah saw the beast’s ears prick up and it looked around expectantly.

Jerome winced. “There was your majesty but I fear…”

“I ‘eard zat she can even enter ze cage.”

“She can, that is she could…”

Jé Kinah felt the tension in the cage rise with every blundering word that Jerome uttered.

“Summon ‘er at once! I wish to see zis!”

Where is she?

“Your majesty, perhaps another archery demonstration…”

Where is she!

“Send for ze girl!”

Jerome dropped his arms to his sides. “She is not here,” the beast snarled and Jerome took a step back, “she disappeared last night and I do not know where she went.”

Jé Kinah swallowed as the beast trembled mightily and then roared so loud that the window panes in the buildings which surrounded the open square rattled and squealed in their wooden prisons. The King scuttled back as quickly as his little feet could take him. Jerome was immediately running for his crossbow as the beast grabbed the bars and pulled hard.

I want her back!

A bolt went flying. Jé Kinah ducked as it went whizzing past her head and she watched as several more bolts fell free. Someone had loosened the bolts!

“All of you!” She spun around and looked at the crowd that watched in frozen horror. “Run!” They were dumbstruck as the beast screamed its curses and beat itself upon the bars. It was going to kill them all. If she and Jerome could not stop it, the city would be forever known as the city of blood.

The beast roared again and the bars squealed and creaked under the strain. Somewhere in the back of her mind Jé Kinah knew the soldiers had secured the King and were escorting him at all haste back to the palace. A number of soldiers had run in front of her and were readying their swords, watching as the beast began to tear the cage apart.

“Jerome!” She yelled, sighting down her the shaft of the arrow. She had no illusions as to the effect her sheath of arrows would have on the creature. It was fuelled by rage and numb to pain as it gave another roar and ripped the cage from its moorings, metal shards flying in all directions. It threw the cage at Jerome who dropped to the ground, his crossbow skittering out of his hands. The cage flew over his head, missing him by scant inches, and scraped across the ground towards the crowds. The awestruck atmosphere was broken and suddenly they started screaming and running, trying to put as much distance between themselves and certain death as possible.

Aaaarrrgggghhhhhh!

The beast, now free of its confines, drew itself up to its full height. In fairness half of the soldiers did not flee but the ones that did could not be blamed for their cowardice for the beast was half as high again as Jerome and build as solidly as a bear. Its hindquarters stepped out, massive claws on them and its shaggy, matted tail balanced out its height. Its fur was dark, shot through with silver and it had a snout with long teeth and tusks. Its forearms reached out in an almost human manner, the claws were each as long as a human hand.

I will tear you to shreds! I will sleep on your bones!

Before she knew was she was doing Jé Kinah leapt over the line of soldiers, landing nimbly on the hard ground, putting herself between them and the beast.

I will feast tonight!

“Beast!” She cried. “Stop! Is this what Giselle would want?” The beast’s eyes rolled around in its head and landed on her. She could see there was a glimmer of humanity left within him. She prayed it was enough as she lowered her bow, her fingers still on the shaft of the arrow. Against all the instinct within her demanding that she run for safety, Jé Kinah moved forward, trying to keep the beast’s wild gaze on her. “Do not do something that could destroy any chance she might have of loving you!”

Giselle? It sniffed. Who is Giselle?

Jé Kinah froze and then swore. “He does not remember her anymore.” She turned to the soldiers and yelled, “run!” as she bolted from the scene. The wind of beast’s claws propelled her forwards and nearly knocked her to her knees. Instead she curled herself into a roll, twisted and came up facing the beast. It picked up one of the cages that had been hastily vacated by its occupant and threw it at the soldiers. It struck three of them and pinned a fourth beneath its twisted metal and wood frame.

“Jerome!” Jé Kinah yelled. “Where are you?”

One foolishly brave soldier got too close and was swept up into the beast’s claws. He screamed in fright as the beast grabbed one arm and one leg.

“I am sorry.” She whispered and unleashed an arrow. It struck the beast in its shoulder. It turned and bared its yellow teeth at her, a deadly growl in its throat. “Over here!”

The beast threw the soldier aside and dropped down to all fours. Jé Kinah only a split second to realise that it was going to charge before it was upon her and she barely got out of the way in time, the beast smashing tables and chairs out of its way, flinging debris into the air. She saw Jerome running into view and lining up the beast with his crossbow.

“Beast!” He cried and when the beast looked over at him he fired. It struck the beast in the neck. It screamed at him and tore both the dart and the arrow out of its hide.

“Jerome?”

The hunter stepped back and Jé Kinah started running for him just as the beast did the same. She reached him first and their bodies collided at speed, hitting the ground and falling out of reach of the beast. She looked up and saw the beast thunder to a halt, sniffing for her scent. Jerome grabbed and lifted her, throwing her behind a cage and out of the beast’s sight.

“Your dart did not work.” She hissed. “Why did it not work?”

Jerome shook his head. “I do not know. It worked before. Rozenn dips the darts regularly to make sure the poison is at full potency every night.”

Jé Kinah closed her eyes. “She does not want the beast dead.”

“What?”

“She wants it alive. She loosened the bolts. She took Giselle’s voice. She did all this!”

Jerome peered around the corner. “I think it has gone.”

I can smell you…

Jé Kinah shivered. “It is looking for us.”

“How can you tell?”

“I can hear it.” She grabbed him by the cuff of his shirt. “Would you know the potion in Rozenn’s caravan?”

“I believe so.”

“Then I will distract it, you dip the dart anew and come after us.”

A barrel came flying past their location and exploded into splinters that showered down on them.

“You cannot stay out in the open.” Jerome argued.

“I do not intend to. If you can track us, I can keep ahead of it.” Jerome nodded and Jé Kinah sprinted out into the open. The beast looked up from where it was pulling down a lamppost. The thick metal bar was no match for its unleashed strength. “Beast!” She cried and readied an arrow. “Come and get me if you can!”

She fired and started running almost the moment it had left her fingers. She knew the arrow would not even slow the beast’s approach but she hoped it would enrage it enough to come after her. A roar that sounded like it was right by her ear proved the beast had taken the bait. The storm she had predicted burst open above the city and without any preliminaries of light rain, it simply started pouring down and almost immediately everything was saturated.

She sprinted to a corner, grabbed a lamppost and swung around the corner. The beast attempted the same corner, skidded in the rain and mud and slammed into the side of a building, stone bursting at the impact. It bellowed its rage at her as she gained a few precious yards.

Why she headed for the church Jé Kinah would never know. Perhaps she had hoped that she could climb the outside of it, out of the beast’s reach but she never had the chance. She had to cross a bridge to get over to the church. She glanced over her shoulder as she reached the half way mark and couldn’t see the beast. Suddenly a black shadow flew over the top of her and as she reached the other side of the bridge it landed heavily, shattering tiles and crushing a plot of flowers.

Jé Kinah heard the scream she uttered as though it came from someone else’s throat. She skidded and fell into a slide and flew underneath the beast’s legs. Its claws caught hold of her cloak and with lightning quick reflexes she whipped herself out of the cloak and kept running. The beast sniffed the empty cloak, roared and thundered after her.

“Come on Jerome.” She panted. “Where are you?”

She sprinted towards the church and it came towards her with painful slowness. Abruptly the beast charged in front of her and she skidded to a halt, its great bulk standing between her and the only place she had hoped would grant her sanctuary. It menaced her, bigger and blacker than ever, rain plastering its fur down and rivulets poured off of it. She darted left and it followed and stopped when she stopped. She bolted right and it did the same. She spun on her heel and ran for it but knew it was all in vain as the open square gave the beast ample room to hit its top speed.

All too quickly it was in front of her and she stopped running, pain in her side, legs and feet.

“Go on!” She yelled at it. “What are you waiting for?”

A rumbling started in its belly. A deep, dark chuckle that spoke to the beast that was dormant deep within her.

Will you not join me brother?

Jé Kinah clutched at her shirt, willing the sleeping demon to stay where it was. Her heart was hammering like a wild animal in her chest as if it could shatter her ribs. The beast took a step towards her.

Why hide in such a frail, impotent body? You are a god. It is time to act like it.

“No!” Jé Kinah cried out but whether she spoke to the beast without or the beast within she did not know. Suddenly the beast got one of its giant claws around her neck and lifted her up off the ground.

If I must, I will peel this body from you and release you myself.

Jé Kinah’s legs kicked in vain, her hands unable to loosen its grip as its teeth came close and she smelt the rotting meat, the stink of death. Then suddenly the beast stopped, its teeth clamping shut beyond her skin. Jé Kinah couldn’t see what it was that had stolen its attention but the way the beast paused and looked at something over her shoulder meant she knew exactly who it was. Only one person could exert any kind of control over the beast that did not come from a sharpened edge.

Giselle.

Jé Kinah’s world began to go dark and she tore at the relentless grip of the beast in a desperate bid to free herself. Abruptly she was dropped and hit the ground hard. Gasping for air she looked up and saw the beast staring down at the coloured girl in her tattered yellow dress and head of brown black ringlets. Her bare feet were caked with mud as she stood in a puddle. Her hand reached out, touching the beast’s cheek and its claw scooped around her tiny waist. It rumbled deep inside of its chest as though it was purring.

Giselle. It said with the gentle, broken tone of a man. I love you.

Giselle smiled and brushed his fur.

“Let her go you fiend!” Jerome roared, his crossbow lowered. The beast looked up and menaced at him. Giselle’s grip tightened on its fur. She shook her head furiously at Jerome and Jé Kinah could see Giselle’s hold over the beast wavering. She tried to croak out a warning but her voice had all but vanished. “I said let her go!”

The beast opened its jaw wide and responded with a deafening roar. Understandably Jerome fired. Giselle saw the dart fly through the air and simply stepped into its path. It struck her above her heart and she immediately slipped out of the beast’s arm and crumpled to the ground. Jerome dropped the crossbow as the beast looked down at the fallen form at his feet.

And there was a long moment in which nothing happened...and the rain continued to fall. The emptiness of the moment engulfed them, separated them from the rest of the city. In that moment nothing else existed except for the beast, the hunter, the elf and the lifeless form of the beauty.

Giselle... It nudged her with its claws in vain as Jerome started running towards her. No. It picked her up with its claws, her body limp in its clumsy grasp. The beast turned its head to the moon and howled. Nooooooooooooooooooooo!”

It looked at Jerome whose face had emptied of all colour, his eyes on Giselle’s body and nothing else. “What ‘ave you done? What ‘ave you done!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Jerome gasped. “She stepped in the way of the dart. I didn’t mean to…”

Suddenly it dawned on Jerome that he had just heard the beast and responded. His head snapped up and he looked into the eyes of a man, the one that had been all but consumed by the horror of the beast. The snout cracked and snapped back into his face, his ears came down from the top of his head to the sides, his tail shrank and disappeared and his fur fell away from his body, revealing pale skin beneath. His knees cracked with a sickening sound and a pair of tattered, dark grey trousers were revealed beneath the beast form. He shook his head, the black pelt disappearing and shoulder length golden brown hair appeared. Lastly his arms pulled back into his body, drawing Giselle closer than he ever could have held her as a beast.

“Giselle?” He whimpered, brushing her hair away from her face. “Giselle?”

“She…I…” Jerome spluttered.

“You killed ‘er.” He whispered hollowly.

“But I…”

“You killed her.”

Both men turned towards what had spoken. Where Jé Kinah had lain there was a strange leathery lump. The man that had been the beast drew Giselle to his chest while Jerome stood up straight, his hand immediately going for his crossbow.

You killed her.

“By the saints…” Jerome gasped.

The leathery wings drew aside, rippling, stretching out until they were fifty feet wide, dark green and black on a framework of black bones. The wings, now holding their own, no longer crushed the small figure beneath and Jé Kinah looked up, her eyes filling with dark blood, the veins on her pale skin turning into a black web from the darkness that now coursed through her veins. Her gloves had fallen away to reveal her hooked hands that were quickly becoming covered in scales that travelled up her arms, splitting away her shirt and covered her shoulders and back. Her black/green nails became claws and her legs thickened and lengthened with a scream of glorious agony. Her teeth became sharp and she looked at them with cold rage all over her face.

You killed her.

Jerome’s eyes were as wide as they could go and he staggered back a step, all of his hunter’s instincts lost in his terror of what was forming before him.

“Dragon…” He gasped.

Jé Kinah’s face, for she still had one, hissed at him, a long black tongue stretching out of her mouth full of jagged teeth. She looked to the sky and began to pump her wings. Jerome had time to fire a single bolt at her which tore a hole in one of her wings yet didn’t slow her down at all. She rose up into the sky and screeched so loudly it deafened anyone who heard it.

“Get Giselle inside!” Jerome yelled and sprinted for the church. One of the priests was looking out in terror and he shouldered him out of the way and made for the stairs. He was already holstering a full sized arrow into his crossbow yet in his mind he knew that anything less than something made of silver would not harm the beast. But he had drawn it to the city. He had missed all the signs that the archer had been the beast and now he had unleashed it onto a city of innocents. He had to do something even if that something was to die trying to kill it. Higher and higher he climbed, praying that it hadn’t moved away from the church.

It hadn’t. The bell towers were a wonderful vantage point for a giant dragon that had not seen the city from this height before. It wrapped itself around the side of the tower, its claws piercing the thick stone. Its wings were stretched out, enjoying the freedom this form gave it. Though its body was still vaguely human it saw things in a red haze and climbed up to the very peak of the tower to howl at the moon, a giant living gargoyle.

“Demon!”

It looked down, immediately spying the tiny figure standing on the roof. It hissed at it and crawled down the tower at speed, dropping the last ten metres, cracking tiles and causing gargoyles to shift on their pedestals. It strode towards the figure, a long, scaly tail stretched out behind it, whipping back and forth in anticipation.

Rozenn did not step back.

“So you can change.” She chuckled in a rasping voice. “What a glorious creature of darkness you are! The Queen will be delighted in your surrender to its power.”

Jé Kinah’s face, streaked with darkness glared at her and out of the corners of her mouth, smoke curled.

“But you haven’t completed it.” Rozenn remarked. “So I say to you again, change!”

It snarled at her, a glow appearing at the back of its throat.

“Do not think I am intimidated by a child such as you.” Rozenn barked. “I am an emissary from the North! From the ice and the cold! I am infused with her power and authority! You will obey me!” Then she began to chant and the words issued forth from her mouth like ribbons of ice, wrapping themselves around the beast, dulling its senses, causing it to sway on its clawed feet and glazing its eyes until it was in a stupor. Its fifty foot wings drooped to the rooftop and it hunched its shoulders, defeated.

Rozenn walked towards it confidently, eyeing the half formed creature that breathed shallow and slow. “There is nothing like you left in the whole of the earth. You are the last.” She took out a silver dagger. “But as glorious as you are, you cannot be allowed to live. You are her opposite in every way. You are her salvation and her doom. You could bring great victory or be the snowflake that breaks her back and I will not have you destroy her triumph.” She took the dagger in both hands and held it up high just as Jerome burst onto the rooftop, his crossbow in hand.

He took in the situation in a fleeting glance, raised the bow and fired. The beast screamed, Rozenn’s hold on it broken as the arrow sank into the old woman’s shoulder. She turned on Jerome, raised her finger and began to utter a curse. She barely got two syllables into it as the creature’s wings burst open, striking Rozenn and throwing her from the rooftop screaming to the pavement below.

Jerome looked over the edge to see Rozenn’s body disintegrate into soft mounds of snow then looked up as the creature that was Jé Kinah stepped towards him, its enormous body looming over his until he was completely dwarfed. Rain poured down his face, pooling at feet.

“Go on then.” He spluttered through it. “Kill me! Kill me now!”

The black in its eyes was all consuming but he thought, for the time it takes to blink, there was a lightening in there. A touch of understanding.

With a furious pump of its wings it shot into the sir, circling higher and higher against the rain and wind that tried in vain to beat it down, until it pushed through the clouds, ripping them apart and soaring into the black, cloudless, star studded night sky. It screamed as it soared into the path of the moon, a black silhouette for anyone that could see it. Then it folded its wings and dived. Faster and faster and the clouds whipped past it, falling with the rain, wind searing its face and body. It dove for the river that rippled like black glass and just before it smashed through its surface, the creature pulled up, creating a deep furrow in the water that sloshed against its banks. The creature soared along, under and over bridges, around a corner and then past the church again. It turned itself around and around into a corkscrew and everything slowed in its wake, the world too slow to keep up with its ferocious might.

“…all night it played like this, landing on rooftops, dropping from great heights to pull up at the last second and howling at the moon that peeked through the clouds that had begun to break apart. It was only as dawn began to seep into the world and the black of night was revealed to be blue as light heralded the arrival of the sun. Just as the golden rays of dawn shot out from their confines over the edge of the horizon, the creature began to feel weary and dipped down towards the church. Its wings that felt like they could have gone on forever began to falter and, like a bird with an injured wing, it fluttered and resisted, falling inevitably to the ground, smashing rose bushes and sending up spray of dirt.”

The woman’s voice was rich with a full tone and the man she spoke to hung upon her every word. Their intimate chamber was draped with silks and they reclined on a bed of satin and embroidered silk. The floor of the chamber was polished marble and there were mosaic murals on the walls and a large, ornate gold lantern with a thousand candles in its berth hung from the ceiling.

“The priest of the church braved the horrors of the night for a brief walk in his beloved garden only to be hit by a shower of dirt. He shook it off and hurried over to the edge of the crater. Climbing out of the crater, as though she was trying to escape a tar pit, was the young woman he had polished the bells with. She was covered in black that clung to her limbs and tried to drag her back down as she dug her deformed hands into the dirt. Apart from a vial around her neck she wore nothing and no matter how she shook and strained, the bat like wings that erupted from her shoulders did not pull away. She looked up at him, her skin streaked with dark veins but her eyes as clear as they had been before.

He turned to run, fearing that she would consume him when she called out in a voice like rusted iron…” The woman’s voice trailed off and her audience of one sat up.

“What did she say?” He cried out. “What did she say?”

“Sanctuary! Sanctuary!”

Her voice carried out into the halls of the grand palace, echoing through the arches of the Samraat’s domain and the shadows from the torch light danced with a life all of their own.

The Samraat’s eyes were wide, his skin prickled with emotion and he leaned forward on the cushions.

“And then? What happened then?”

The woman turned her beautiful fine eyes onto her husband, her forehead dotted with red and her blacker than night hair covered in a rich red veil, adorned with crystals.

“That, my lord, is a story for another night.” She stood up. “Dawn has broken and I must rest my voice.”

The Samraat got up and grasped her hands tightly. “Tomorrow night you will tell me the rest of the she-elf’s tale? You will!”

“Of course, your most illustrious and renowned majesty. Of course.”