Chapter 03 - Eyes in the Woods

  The smell of breakfast and something sweet was what woke me up the following morning. It was only seven, much too early for me on a summer day, but with my birthday and family reunion today, I figured it was better for me to get started with my day. A breeze drifted into my room from the opened window and the summer sun already threatened to bring on heat. I peered out into the woods that went miles behind our colonial-style home a few breaths before putting on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt of my favorite band.

  “What smells good?” I exclaimed going down the stairs.

  My father was reading the news on his phone. “Happy birthday, Ky!” he shouted out, getting up to give me a tight hug. “How does it feel to be sixteen?”

  “Like normal,” I mumbled into his chest. “You’re squeezing too tight! Can’t breathe!”

  “Greg, let the poor boy go,” my mother said, looking at us from the kitchen. She was busy mixing what looked like pancakes, while I noticed that there was a cake baking in the oven.

  My dad gave a brief apology and let me go. I smiled at him, watching him sit back down at the head of the dining table and resume fiddling with his phone. “So are you excited to meet the family tonight?”

  My mother and I both groaned.

  “I just want to get it over with,” I deadpanned, sitting down beside him. “I already dread spending the entire weekend with family.”

  “Well, the Archmagus and our relatives insist you be there for the full moon,” my mother snipped. My ears picked up on the sound of the wooden spoon she was using to mix the batter against the side of the bowl as she grit her teeth. “It’s required for all mages turning sixteen this year, and especially if you want to get your focus correctly.”

  I sulked in my seat a bit. She wasn't wrong. Whenever we talk about family, we’re referring to the Boston Mage Guild. It’s run by a council of four elders who work under the Archmagus of our sector. And while all that sounds cool and all, they’re a ton of elitist jerks. I’ve only encountered them a few times before, but each of them were bad experiences. Something about how I’m not progressing well enough in my magic… how I’m not a pureblood like them… or even worse, how my mother is an outcast and somehow that affects my being proficient in magic.

  But I don’t understand just how they can be so mean to my mother like that. In fact, she’s been the best thing in the world for me. Yeah, she’s got those moments where she has to be mom and punish me - and let me tell you, being punished by magic sucks ass - but she’s also done everything to make sure me and dad are happy. She taught me music, my first spells, as well as how to defend myself and hide my magic in front of others. One of the most important things she taught me was to never use my magic in front of mundanes. Doing so would attract unwanted attention.

  …Ok, so what if I did with my friends sometimes, right? It’s all in good fun. And it's not like they would report me or anything.

  “So how does a focus work? How do you get one?” My dad asked. He was eyeing my mom, who stopped mixing a moment to rest.

  “When I was younger, all mages coming of age went to the Greywood Cabins for the full moon festival. There’s a bit of ceremony with the Archmagus and council giving a speech and then a ritual incantation when the moon is at its apex. Ky and I have been practicing it since he was 15 to make sure he's prepared. Then Hecate blesses the young mages with a focus.”

  “And then mages just… know how to use more spells? Just like that?”

  My mother laughed and picked up the batter-bowl and started pouring some into a pan. “There’s more to it, but that’s the gist of it. I got blessed with enchanting, so perhaps Ky will become an enchanter too?”

  God I hope not. What a boring magic proficiency.

  My dad got up and hugged my mother from behind. “And your good luck charms have always worked for me.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek and she laughed with a flustered blush.

  “Well, I’m going to finish packing then,” I said quickly. I don’t need to watch my parents canoodling in front of me.

  “Breakfast will still be a bit, and your cake needs to rest, so take your time,” my mother called out while I ran back up the stairs and into my room.

  I pulled out a duffel bag from my closet and started to cram it with a few clothes. The cabins are pretty cozy and often have everything visitors would want, but I know for a fact that the pillows there are flat as hell so I planned on taking my own. When I turned to my bed, my eyes scanned the sheets for something important. After lifting the wadded-up blankets and my pillows, I realized what I was looking for was missing.

  Fuck… I must’ve left it in the tree house…

  Groaning, I made sure my phone was in my pocket before putting on my socks and shoes. “I’ll be back, just going to the tree house,” I cried out as I ran down the stairs once more and out the back door.

  The morning sun was already starting to feel oppressive and I ran quickly to the tree line at the end of my yard. It was noticeably cooler when I stepped under the canopy of trees, my shoes crunching on a few fallen twigs, as I found my way to a path that had been worn-in by hikers from town. Birds were chirping overhead and a few fluttered from tree to tree as I made my way deeper into the woods and toward the tree house.

  I didn’t build the treehouse or anything. In fact, I had stumbled upon it by accident when my family moved to Greywood before my freshman year of high school. I remember being bummed out about having to move but my mother was pressured by the guild to be closer to Boston. Greywood just turned out to be a good compromise. Close enough to be within guild territory yet far away from their watchful eyes. I don’t fully understand why they’re so against my mom, but I have a feeling it’s because she married a normal human. Whatever. They should get with the times. It’s also not like my dad would tell anyone about the supernatural world anyway. He’d never do anything to harm Mom or me.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “You should be careful!”

  I jumped and cried out. Behind me was an older woman. She was wearing dark yoga pants and an absurdly bright orange t-shirt that made her stick out in the woods like a sore thumb. How did I not notice her earlier?

  “Grams!” I said, once I recognized her. “I didn’t even hear you. Where did you come from?”

  She casually walked up closer to me, dappled sunlight pouring over her nearly white hair. Despite her age, she looked good. I think she was in her sixties or something. She had introduced herself before when we first moved in and made us a pie. But after that kindness, my family learned that she was the nosey neighbor type, always looking in on us and the other residents. Mom has had to chase her out a number of times after catching her craning her neck over our front fence. Despite that, she had always been pretty nice to me.

  “I was saying you should be careful,” she repeated, a bit firmer this time. “A young boy like you in the woods could get into a lot of trouble.”

  I tried not to roll my eyes. “I’m alright. I’ve learned these trails like the back of my hand, Grams. No need to worry about me.”

  Grams narrowed her eyes and then looked deeper into the woods. For a moment, I was unsure if she saw anything out there and I found myself trying to match the direction of her gaze. There were trees, bushes, more trees and… yeah, I saw nothing. I fidgeted a bit, thinking of a way to leave politely.

  “Well… I’m kind of heading to my tree house… it was nice-”

  “You listen, and you listen close,” she snapped.

  The change in attitude stunned me and I looked back at her wild eyes. What the hell is wrong with her today?

  “You need to be careful! There are wolves around and they’re always watching!”

  Wolves!? I blinked at her a few more times before looking around, suddenly feeling anxious. For some reason it sounded as if the birds had stopped chirping and I felt the hair at the back of my neck rise. Each bush on the ground now looked like some odd hiding spot for a wild animal of some sort.

  And then Grams just walked past me as if I wasn't even there. As if I was just some stranger she didn’t just stop to speak with on her hike in the woods.

  My brain started to work again at this point as I watched her slowly disappear down the path and toward where her home was.

  I don’t recall any wolves being in Maine anymore… And just to be on the safe side, I searched it up on my phone and found out that my assessment is right.

  Whatever.

  I shrugged it all off and headed back toward the tree house, my phone safely in my pocket once more. It took me about five minutes before I saw the shape of the house in the distance, and another five before I reached it. The tree house was built on the branches of a giant red oak. Unlike in San Diego, the trees here were freaking huge. The trunk of this tree was probably ten times wider than me. But perhaps that’s why the treehouse was built on this tree specifically. Unlike the other trees around it, this one was massive. Like ridiculously massive and tall. And probably really, really old. I gazed upward and saw the treehouse hidden behind leaves. If I had to guess, I'd say it was basically the size of my room at home, with actual glass windows, exterior wood paneling, and a shingled roof - which probably needed a good cleaning with how green and mossy it had become.

  I backed up a bit to get a running start and then tried to leap up and grasp the closest branch. It took me about three tries before I succeeded and hoisted myself upward. At this point I knew the rest of the way easily, picking the right branches to reach and grooves to get a foothold on before reaching the nearest window. I’d left it unlocked and it slid open easily, allowing me to crawl through and into the tree house. I sniffled a moment and sneezed from how stuffy the room felt in the growing heat. Across the room I saw what I was looking for, laying on top of an air mattress I brought up here months ago.

  My wolf plush.

  “There you are, Bleddyn,” I said as I picked up the stuffed animal and held it in front of me. “Did you miss me? I hope the woods were kind to you.”

  It didn’t say anything, obviously. But I smiled at it anyway and fell onto the air mattress to relax a bit from the climb. My eyes glanced around the room, taking in the dirty windows on each wall, the posters of my favorite bands, and even briefly at the old rope ladder I rolled up to prevent anyone from using my “safe space.” Perhaps one day I’ll manage to bring up some kind of furniture to make it even more cozy. Curtains. A small end table that I can construct. Maybe even figure out a way to get power lines to run up the tree.

  I felt a vibration in my pocket and took out my phone.

  Mom: Breakfast is ready and I’m icing your cake. Try and be home in about 10?

  I got up and texted back a quick reply to let her know I’m on the way. Still exhausted, I hesitated to move, staring blankly at the rays of sunlight pouring into the space. For a moment, I was mesmerized by the dust dancing in the air, my mind blank while I enjoyed the quiet before the storm that'll be the cabins later today.

  “Alright Bleddyn. Let’s go home and then get ready to see the family,” I muttered with reluctance and then jumped back out the window. I climbed down a few branches until I was low enough to jump the rest of the way without hurting myself. My feet landed in a dull thud under the pile of leaves. I was already sweating since it was hot inside the treehouse, but even outside and under the canopy of leaves, it still felt exhausting.

  I took a few steps before I heard a rustling in the bushes. My body stopped and I turned in the direction where I heard the noise. Eerily, I noticed that the birds had stopped chirping. Almost like the time when I encountered Grams earlier. It was silent. Too silent. The only sounds coming to my ears were the brief rustling of leaves in the wind as well as my heartbeat.

  And then I saw it.

  Two amber eyes. Hidden behind the leaves of a bush about a hundred yards in front of me. I wanted to look away from it, but instinct told me not to move nor remove the eyes from sight. For a moment, it felt like the two of us were in a standoff. Neither of us moved and my breathing picked up.

  But when I finally did blink, they were gone.

  I waited there, frozen, a few more breaths before I let out a relieved exhale, unaware that I had been holding my breath. My eyes scanned the surrounding bushes to see if the eyes were anywhere near.

  Nothing.

  When the sound of birds chirping returned I finally allowed myself to relax a bit. Was it Gram's wolf? Or something else? Whatever that was, I didn’t want to find out. So for the first time in a long while, I made sure to keep up a barrier as I ran home.