Eolyn Read Free

current downstream.
    Then another Guende appeared.
    The creature stood a few feet away, reflecting hues of autumn. It wore colored leaves in its cap and an evergreen vest embroidered with seeds and nuts. Smiling eyes peeked out from under bushy brows. It proffered its hand. Eolyn was surprised by the feathery lightness of its touch, as if the Guende were not real at all, but a mere impulse that took hold of her and pulled her forward.
    They left the river and walked almost an hour until Eolyn felt a subtle shift in the forest. The woods did not look any different, with old trunks, crusty bark, and draped moss. Yet something had changed.
    Caught between curiosity and apprehension, Eolyn stopped. The Guende tugged at her hand. An intense drone filled Eolyn’s ears, as if she were passing through an invisible hive of bees. The buzzing ceased, and the Guende disappeared.
    Eolyn stood in a small clearing. The thick expanse of trees that defined her world moments before had melted away. The ground sloped downward under a cover of soft grass and then rose again. Beyond a low hill hovered a faint wisp of chimney smoke.
    Taken with a sudden enthusiasm founded on the hope of human company, Eolyn bounded forward. On the other side of the rise, she found a simple cottage surrounded by a thick garden.
    “Good day!” she called out. “Is anyone home?”
    The bushes rustled. A dark hood rose up and a voice crackled like fire. “Well, well. Who is this mouse that calls upon my humble house?”
    Eolyn stepped backwards, regretting her boldness at once. How could she have been so foolish? She knew the stories about hags living in forests. They were witches, all of them. They turned children into bread and ate them for breakfast.
    Rising to her full and somewhat crooked height, the hag shuffled toward Eolyn. “Don’t run away, my child.”
    Eolyn had no intention of obeying, but her feet rooted into the ground like stubborn weeds.
    Locating a stump next to the girl, the old woman eased herself down. Several minutes passed in silence.
    “You are not much of a talker,” the hag said. “All the better I suppose. I’ve grown accustomed to an existence without chatter in this place. How long have you been in the woods?”
    “Nearly a moon,” Eolyn whispered.
    “A full moon?” the old one repeated with surprise and interest. “How did you survive so long on your own?”
    “I know the late harvest berries and mushrooms and how to find springs and draw water from the moss. Then the Guendes found me.”
    And led me here.  Treacherous beasts!
    “I see,” the hag said. “What drove you into the forest in the first place?”
    Eolyn blinked and looked away. Her eyes burned and a hard lump settled in her throat.
    “Come, child.” The woman’s voice was gentle. “You can tell me.”
    Eolyn was not going to tell her anything, but then the words spilled out anyway. “There were horses and soldiers and terrible fires, and they killed my father, and my brother never came back, and then I…I heard my mother. I saw her, I swear! She told me to follow her, but it wasn’t her after all. And then I got lost.”
    The hag folded her arms and gave a slow nod. “You’re a very brave girl. How old are you?”
    Eolyn shifted nervously on her feet.
    “Nine summers, perhaps?” The old woman asked.
    The blood drained from Eolyn’s face. Proof of witchcraft! How else could she have guessed her age?
    “Speak, child. A guest in my house must say what she thinks.”
    “Are you the witch who eats children?” Eolyn covered her mouth with both hands, shocked by her careless tongue.
    The old lady’s eyes sparked in the shadow of her cloak. She reached up to remove her hood. Eolyn expected to see an ancient face twisted into a sharp warty nose, unkempt hair splayed like straw, and inflamed eyes that would hex her on the spot.
    The truth proved oddly disappointing. The woman’s features were soft, lined with the many years that had bent her body. Her