The Huldra Hostility Read online

  They were nearing the bend in the road and the end of the woods. Shy could see the roof of Claire's house up ahead.

  "Ya won't see me when ya git off'n da bus, but oi'll be der. We'll talk more after’n ya drop off da wee lassie. Use your eyes Shylock. Many're watchin' ya… good'n bad."

  With that he patted Shy on the head, and smiled hugely at the gesture, as if the joke was on Shy. Then he shooed Shy forward and over the crest of the slight hill, toward Claire's house. Shy turned back once to look and saw the pooka still standing there resolutely.

  That day in school they had time to spend in the library, and Shy researched pookas. Often they took the forms of dogs, horses, or even goats. It seemed, however, that they could only change to human form once per year, on November first. The opinions concerning the pooka, that Shy read, were varied. Some said the creature was friendly and helpful. Other sources painted a more mysterious picture, one of a much more wicked creature. The one consistency to the stories, though, was the pooka always took the form of a black animal.

  Shy was antsy all day; he wanted to get home. He tried to focus on schoolwork, but simply couldn't. In math class, his last one of the day, he stared out the window as the teacher's lecture droned on. As he looked at the small stand of pines outside the school, his vision blurred and popped repeatedly. There, nervously peeking from the branches, were several of the sylphon. They were cute pixie fairies with wings, which had rescued Shy and Portia last summer. Shy sat up straighter and leaned forward for a better view. He wondered why they were here, at his school!

  They must have seen him staring, for they quickly became animated, and pointed toward the front of the school. Then, they ducked back into the branches of the tree, out of sight.

  The ride home on the bus was uneventful, and Shy was so preoccupied with thoughts of the pooka that he listened to Claire even less than usual.

  "Shy, you really aren't listening to me… Shy…. SHY!"

  He turned towards her from looking out the window, "What? Sorry…"

  "What are you thinking about? You have been acting strange all day. I think you may have Lyme's disease. Remember that tick I pulled off of you last week? It's because you are always with that dog of yours. He is a tick magnet."

  "That's not what he is," Shy interrupted with a half smile.

  "Well, you should get him tick collar or something. Do you know I saw a report last night on the news that this tick season was really bad and if you have symptoms of…."

  Shy tuned out again, and turned back to the window, his thoughts again on the pooka. He searched the side of the road when the bus rolled to a stop. Claire clambered off with Shy, and they walked towards her house. The day had turned gray and breezy. The seasonal change was in the air. Shy zipped his hoodie and leaned forward against the wind.

  "Where is your dog?" Claire asked.

  "Dunno," Shy replied in a non-committal tone.

  Claire turned sharply and looked at him with her well practiced stern look. He really thought she could smell out not only when he lied, but when he wasn't always telling the whole truth. It was yet another reason to just not talk. She was like a bloodhound hot on the trail of its prey.

  "What do you mean you don't know?" She immediately asked.

  Shy just shrugged, but it was probably already too late to throw her off the scent of lies.

  "Well, he is probably lying at your house half dead from tick bites… I told you that you need to get him some protection. Lymes disease can cause…" She ranted.

  Shy scanned the way ahead as he tuned her out. Not only was he looking for Shep, but he had decided he needed to be more vigilant. If a swarm of goblins popped out of the culvert right now, he wouldn't be able to save himself, much less Claire. Although, he thought, she could probably scold them to death. The thought made him smile.

  "I don't know what you are smiling about Shylock. This is very serious," She said as they arrived at her mailbox. They said goodbye and Shy turned toward the bend and down the slight hill towards the woods and the events of that morning.

  He searched the road ahead for Shep, but could not see him. Claire was right. This was unusual. It was the first time he could ever remember Shep not meeting him at the bus. As Shy flipped through his memories of the walks home from school, Shep, in his human form, appeared next to him. Shy jumped, and the pooka laughed a hearty but high pitched chuckle.

  "A wee bit jumpy? Ya din't see through moi Glamour, didja?"

  "No," Shy agreed. "Why didn't I see you?"

  "Ya need to be lookin'. Ya won’t jus be able ta see. Ya hafta look. Ya hafta train yerself ta look," he paused. "'Av ya wondered why ya are able t'see through the magic?"

  Shy looked over at the pooka next to him, and thought about the question. Shep had his trench coat sleeves pushed up his arms and Shy noticed hugely muscled forearms.

  "Yeah, I have wondered. I guess I just thought I was lucky… Or, unlucky," he added thinking back to some of the events of the previous summer.

  "D'pendin on a how strong a fairy's magic is, they can grant the sight to a human. Long ago it happened more frequently. Then, when humans began to turn against many of us, it all changed. It rarely ever happens now, unless by accident. That is how you got it… by an accident. It was my fault really. Ya see, each human is born with some natural ability to see through the Glamour. As ya age, and you believe less, the ability begins to fade. The older ya get, the more you lose. Unless, well, unless one of the fey strengthen that ability. I did that for you. I don't know why. Now your fate and mine are intertwined. I 'ave an obligation to ya now. I 'ave been guarding and fighting for ya since. Not much until you returned from that camp. Who knew you would find the box and da recipe…. Who knew…" He paused and looked at Shy for the first time since he had begun talking.

  Shy's thoughts were racing.

  "Why? Why did you?" he asked.

  "Oi guess t'was pride or vanity. I wanted you to know I was more'n jus a dog. Dat I was truly your friend an der to help ya. Dat's wat us seelie do. We don want tanks… no, sir… not us…. But, sometimes… well, sometimes it’s nice ta be acknowledged…. Know wat oi mean? I jus wanted ya ta be able ta see me…"

  "Oh," was all Shy could manage. He thought he understood. The pooka just wanted some attention, some appreciation. From what Shy knew, that was not something that fey did, or wanted. He wasn't sure, but it sort of made him feel special… sort of warm inside. There were probably other kids all over the world who had contact with fey like this. Only, they didn't even know! Besides, if Shep hadn't done this, he wouldn't have had all the adventures.

  "How do you give someone this ability?" he asked as it popped into his head.

  At the question though, the pooka looked embarrassed. He didn't answer right away. Finally he said, "Fey can grant the gift though their saliva, ya know… spit."

  "You spit on me?" Shy stopped walking, alarmed.

  "Not 'sactly."

  Shy stood, rooted to his spot. The pooka glanced around, as they now had woods on both sides of the road.

  "Should keep movin. T'is a good spot for ambush, like ya seen earlier."

  "Did you spit on me?" Shy repeated, holding his ground.

  Finally the sheepish pooka sighed deeply and said, "Tis not like ya tink. Oi only did wat all pet dogs do… Oi licked yer face… OK, Oi said it. Oi licked yer face, but it was as a dog. Once the saliva reaches your eyes, you are granted the same sight as the fey."

  Shy was creeped out as he looked at the pooka. The look of horror on Shy's face must have shown, because the pooka slumped his shoulders and turned away.

  Somehow, though, Shy thought back to the big black puppy that his mom had brought home after the divorce, after they had moved into a big, old, lonely farmhouse. He remembered romping with the pup and allowing it to lick him. He was sure at some point the dog had licked his eyes and he thought nothing of it. He felt bad for his reaction. The pooka was obviously distraught. This was a creature that had been there
for him through tough times.

  "It's OK," he began, "I can get past the licking. Once you are a dog again, anyway. The pooka looked back at Shy. It may be in human form, but he could still see something in the eyes… they were the same Shep eyes.

  The pooka turned back to him and nodded. He looked around again and nodded them forward.

  "Kin we keep movin?"

  Shy nodded.

  "When do you change back to a dog?"

  "Oi kin change at any time, but oi will be forced back at sundown," he said as he looked to the west.

  The sun was already resting at the top of the treeline.

  "Well, you will need to hide until you change back… my mom would freak."

  The pooka smiled and inclined its head.

  "Can you understand me when you are a dog?"

  "Mostly. The words don always make sense… but I kin get the gist of what you say."

  "Can we make up a code? Like bark once if you agree, but just twice if you don't?"

  The pooka pondered this as they reached the little dirt lane driveway that led up to the farmhouse.

  "Oi tink oi kin try."

  ***

  Before Shy's mother got home from work, Shy made the pooka the sandwich he insisted on having. It seemed that only being in human form one day a year created a strong desire for human food. While he ate, Shy asked him as many questions as he could, barely allowing the pooka to down the sliced corn beef sandwich. The answer that intrigued Shy the most was the book on fairy creatures that the pooka mentioned. He decided he would definitely need to locate a copy in the future.

  ***

  Tad's email and those events on that fateful day in November refocused Shy's obsession. He admitted to himself that it was an obsession. He continued his research any chance he got. His writing assignments, art assignments, and basically anything in school where he had a choice to go his own direction ended up focusing on fey. He would need all the information he could gather for the coming summer. When he returned to camp, he had decided he needed to do two things. First, they needed to rescue Gust if he was still alive… still up for ransom. Shy still had his watch, and he owed the old white-haired man. Gust had saved them last summer. Second, he had to return the box and recipe. He needed to get them back to the world beyond the waterfall, where they could be protected again. He had removed it, and now needed to make it right before it fell into Unseelie hands.

  From November to March he was on continual watch. He had a few more sightings of fairy creatures, but it seemed to decrease greatly during the bitter winter months. For the hundredth time, he wished Shep could be human for a day again, so he could ask the new questions that he had come up with. Like, do the fey hibernate? Or, at least do some of them? He hadn't seen the sylphon since the snow set in. Of course, Shep himself was fey, and he was still there. Shy hadn't seen any goblins again, but there had been a moment when he was daydreaming out the bus window and thought he had seen the flying creature. His vision had blurred and snapped, and he saw the strange jaws that opened sideways and the glittering scales on the talons that he had tickled to escape the beast last summer. He only got a glimpse before it flew into cloud cover. Shy couldn't see through Mother Nature's illusions, only those provided from the Glamour.

  He also sighted a creature that he guessed was a nisse. It certainly wasn't Tom T, and it certainly wasn't friendly to Shy. The second time he had seen it, it scowled at him and ran away. Like him or not, Shy did feel like the nisse was on guard duty, or maybe babysitting duty.

  Spring came early that year in Minnesota, and in March the weather started to get warm. After Shep's words the previous November, Shy had worked all winter to focus on looking for hidden fey. The warmer weather seemed to bring more success. One bright spring day, Shy saw more sylphon in the trees outside of the school. He was watched as two of the pixies agitatedly flitted from side to side on the still bare branches of a birch tree. They seemed to be attempting to decide whether to leave the tree or not. Finally they flew off in the direction of the soccer field.

  As his teacher had been eyeing him suspiciously, Shy stood and walked to the pencil sharpener. He raised his pencil with its freshly snapped lead to explain why he was walking around the quiet classroom. As he reached the sharpener, he looked out the window. From this vantage point, he could see the adjacent soccer field and the field beyond. As he stuck his pencil in the sharpener, he could see Shep at the edge of the school grounds. The dog had taken to coming to school and watching as Shy exited and reboarded the bus each day. Shy always figured he could run fast enough to make the several mile trip faster than the bus because the bus went out north of town first, to drop off other kids. It was a much longer trip than a straight-line path would be.

  He began to slowly turn the sharpener. As he stared out the window, he saw that Shep seemed to be acting strangely. The dog was backing up, and occasionally snapping at something unseen. Shy stared harder, and just like when he had looked at the huldra last summer, his vision blurred slightly, but it was difficult to push through. He tried again harder, not realizing that he was sharpening faster and faster. The pop he heard inside his head when his vision finally snapped almost knocked him backwards. Shep was surrounded by more of the endless goblins. His dog shape ripped and slashed at the black armor. He was holding his own, but not as well as when Shy had seen him in human form.

  Suddenly, a sylphon appeared and carried one of the goblins away as it was thrashing in the air. Another and another of the flying fairies appeared. It seemed the tide of the battle was turning. Shy could not look away. Shep was now on the attack, and the remaining goblins began to look for an escape route.

  Out of the air shot a huge winged black shape. It headed straight for Shep. Sylphon were knocked aside as Shep barely dove to safety.

  "Shylock! You will have no pencil left. Get back to your seat!" his teacher interrupted the scene with a scolding.

  Shy had to do something. He had to help his friend.

  "You're right," he turned and said to the teacher. "I gotta go get a new one!" he yelled as he ran from the classroom, slamming the door behind himself.

  He knew that he would be in trouble for this. He knew that no one else would be able to see what was happening. To others it would appear like a goofy dog frolicking in the warm weather. Nonetheless he ran to help Shep. He burst out of the school just in time to see the flying beast with the sideways jaws fly back up into the clouds. He ran up, dropped to his knees, and gave Shep a big hug. The big black dog seemed to be no worse for wear, except that he was panting heavily. After the hug, Shy looked around the sky apprehensively. The sylphon and the other creature were nowhere to be seen.

  Shep began to nudge Shy back to the school.

  "Are you sure you'll be OK?" Shy asked.

  Woof.

  "Promise me you will go home now?"

  Woof.

  "OK…" Shy looked at the pooka suspiciously.

  "I know you are protecting me, but coming here just puts me in more danger. I am not gonna just let you get captured too…. Like Gust."

  Woof.

  He nudged Shy again.

  "OK, OK… I'm going."

  Shy turned back toward the school where he could already see his teacher and Mrs. Christie exiting from the same door he had burst through a minute prior. He really was going to be in trouble for this.

  He looked at the windows from the class he had left and saw the other kids pointing and staring. This would just add to his reputation as a weirdo. He decided he just didn't care. Summer couldn't come soon enough.

  ***

  Shy was startled out of his memories of the past school year, when he heard chairs scrape on the floor of Mrs. Christie's office. He spied in the partially open door and saw the principal reach across her desk. She shook his mother's hand with a fake smile frozen on her face. The tall, gangly principal then turned and saw Shy through the open door. He saw the look of disgust cross her face.

  It only hu
rt his feelings for a second, and then he stood and followed his mother as she swiftly stalked past his seat, down the hallway, towards the glass door of the school office.

  Chapter Two

  He was a target waiting for an arrow

  The Mall of America was relatively close to home, only about a one hour drive away. Shy liked going there because there was always so much activity and different kinds of people to watch. When he was younger, though, he didn't like the fact that his mother wouldn't let him go on the rides at the indoor amusement park. He would watch wistfully as the kids ran from one ride to the next. Now, he was twelve. He understood that with one income they just didn't have the funds available to spend on rides.

  This trip, they needed to spend the few funds available on a new sleeping bag for Shy. The old one that he had taken to camp last year had been sliced into strips in the garage. Shy's mom thought that Shy had done it, but when he had asked Shep if it had something to do with the magic fairy box he had hidden in his room, he had received the affirmative single bark.

  Shy used the occasion of buying a new sleeping bag as a way to talk his mom into bringing him to the Mall. He had argued that he saw an ad for clearance camping equipment at the large sporting goods retailer at the mall. Really, though, he had found a unique store that acquired the rights to reprint copies of ancient manuscripts and texts, found in museums the world over. They had a printed copy of the book that Shep had suggested before he changed back into his dog form. It was called The Faerie, and the pooka had said that the author had been hanged by the fey for writing it. Shep claimed that, of all the works humans had written on the fey, this book contained the most truth. Even after researching all school year long, Shy felt like he lacked the information he would need at camp. He had to be prepared if he wanted to survive. He needed that book.