Unfamiliar Territory
Chapter 17: Disappointing Enemy

Sitting in Dr. Quincy’s bed gave me some time to think.

I thought about what, exactly, it meant to be someone’s familiar. A weird name and a duty to protect witches? Even with Kat’s and everyone else’s’ supernatural abilities, I wondered how much it would help against a person who wielded ‘the Knowledge’.

There was Mutt, who easily stomped the flowers that had me at their mercy. I remembered how hard he fought against the lost children, how he got that terrible looking bite. Mr. Mallard had looked very scared when he thought I was bitten.

Oh, god.

Where was Mutt? And Stallion? Was I here because I had gotten the worst of it, or was I here because I got lucky? Stallion had at least a few of them on him; if they were trying to bite us, they had plenty of opportunity with him.

With thoughts like these, it did not take me long to get the urge to leave the room. I did not like the quiet that Dr. Quincy and his children left in their wake, and I had to find the guys. My original goal was to find where they had all run off to, maybe find another guest room where Mutt and/or Stallion could be but, as soon as I stepped out of the room, I was lost.

It was much more than just a house. It was more like some deluxe cabin that even people with money would just visit for a week or two on vacation. As I slowly made my way through it, I passed by a lot of large windows that gave me plenty of the view outside which sunk in even deeper the feeling that this had to be some sort of vacation retreat.

We were somewhere in the mountains, of that much I was sure. The cabin itself was nestled in a forest of sorts along the mountainside with miles and miles of more trees stretching over into the peaks in the horizon. I caught glimpses of the breathtaking landscape as I wandered through several different rooms and hallways.

The furniture, walls, and floors all seemed to be made of varying shades of dark wood. All the paintings I found—and I found quite a lot—were of nature; pretty, but somewhat generic. As I wandered through the house, I found no pictures of Dr. Quincy or his children.

There were more of the strange symbols carved all throughout the house, though not in any sort of obvious pattern. In every wall, ceiling, and floor in every room or hallway I found at least one carving. Each one was carved in such detail that I could not make out if any were the same. There was still no sign of Mutt or Stallion.

When I reached a large and fancy kitchen, I heard the sounds of screaming. I nearly fell over myself as I hobbled over to a large window which took up a good portion of a nearby wall. However, when I stared out, I saw that the kids weren’t screaming in terror.

I saw them, all six, surrounding Kat. She sat very still, drawing in a sketchpad, as two of the little girls and a small boy who sat in her lap watched. Two of the other boys were running around in circles, doing most of the screaming as they fought each other with sticks.

Maple stood behind Kat and was in the process of braiding her hair—which I just then realized had gotten longer—when she looked up and saw me. Maple called out something to me, but it was muffled from the window. However, when she ran over and pulled the window open, it turned out that the window was just a sliding glass door.

“What are you doing there?” she asked me, grabbing one of my hands with both of hers.

“Just...stuff,” I mumbled, embarrassed, as she led me outside. I almost stumbled again, but managed to keep my balance as Maple pulled me towards Kat.

The kids had stopped what they had been doing, even the smallest boy, and were all staring at me with wide, dark eyes. I was at a loss of what to say and, when Maple pulled me over close enough, she walked to Kat almost in a careful manner, like approaching a sleeping tiger.

I was preparing to ask her where Mutt and Stallion were when Maple spoke up. “Miss Elizabeth? I got Alex to come outside,” she said, quietly.

Wait...

“Call me Kat, Master. Good morning, Foxy,” Kat greeted without looking up from her drawing. When I looked, I saw that it was of a work in progress of a bunch of baby bears wrestling each other. “Now that you’re here, we can begin.”

“Wait, Kat, please don’t tell me that you...”

I couldn’t finish. Was all that with Maple, the rabbit, the gentle kiss, and the encouragement just another ‘plan’ of theirs? I touched Lionel through the pocket in my shirt.

“I only told Maple to ask you to come outside so we can start our morning run,” Kat said, setting the sketchpad aside before standing up. She held the youngest boy in her arms as she turned away from me. She did not once look in my direction. “I promise you that is all I said.”

Could I believe her? I glanced over to Maple who was staring back at me. Her expression was similar to Kat’s—cold, distanced—but I saw something in her eyes that I never saw in Kat’s.

I clenched a hand over Lionel through my shirt.

I wanted to believe.

“Alright, Kat, okay. I believe you,” I said, letting go of my shirt. “But running? I can barely walk.”

“We have a fix for that,” Kat turned back to me, but her eyes were on something behind me. “Master.”

I turned around at the sound of footsteps and the familiar clinking noise of china. It was Dr. Quincy holding a teacup on a small plate. He held it out to me. He looked very sad.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” he said, and I believed him.

“It’s okay.”

My hands reached out for the cup even though I didn’t want them to. They took it and I opened my mouth and drained the burning liquid down my throat. Dr. Quincy’s father’s cane fell from my free hand as the liquid fire scorched through my insides.

I felt it again—the soaring energy, the desire to move.

“Let’s run,” Kat said, and then she was off, holding the smallest boy on her back, the other children racing after her.

Maple’s words still rang through my head. I was not helping anyone by doing nothing and feeling sorry for myself. If I wanted to escape this nightmare, I had to do it on my own two feet.

I ran after them. It was impossible for me to move legs that were more bone than muscle, but I moved them. I was running faster than I ever remembered running. As Kat and the children reached a path that led deeper into the woods, I took one final look back at the cabin.

It really was large, even for vacation home standards. Dr. Quincy, though a large man himself, was dwarfed in comparison to the cabin as he stood there looking after us, his father’s cane clenched in both hands. When I waved a farewell, he did not wave back.

For awhile, the run did not have much effect on me. I could not keep up with Kat very well, or even the children, but I was running at an even pace and it felt good.

The trees were sparse around us; the sun easily broke through and warmed my thin skin. It definitely wasn’t autumn anymore, or even winter for that matter. Had I really been out for that long? For months?

It made sense—all the weight loss, how different Kat and Stallion looked.

Stallion.

Simultaneously, I could feel the energy draining away as I remembered why I was trying to find Kat in the first place. I tried to call out to her, but she didn’t hear me. She and the kids were too far away and getting further. I was running out of breath fast.

When I tried to call out to her a second time, I stumbled over my own feet and was on the ground.

Sharp pain stabbed into my hands and knees. My vision went blurry. There was someone running towards me by the sound of it. As they neared, all I could make out was someone small with dark hair.

“Maple?”

The little figure stopped a few feet away. “I’m not a girl!”

As the pain faded, so did my blurry vision. It revealed that it wasn’t Maple, but one of her brothers—one of the older ones who still carrying a stick. He held it towards me, like a weapon, and had a sour look on his face.

“Oh, right, sorry. Of course you’re not a girl,” I apologized, using some of the energy I still had to push myself off the ground—though I only had just enough left to get to a sitting position. I winced when I saw the cuts on my hands. “Hey, uh...what’s your name?”

“Gust,” the boy said, circling me, his stick less than a foot from my face. “And you’re the fox.”

“You mean Foxy?” I looked between him and the stick. The serious expression told me he was not afraid to use it, and I wasn’t prepared to lose an eye over this. “I guess you can call me that, but my real name is Alex, just so you know.”

Gust shook his head vigorously. “No, you’re the fox,” he insisted.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine, sure. I’m the fox—”

Gust jabbed me in the chest with his stick.

“Ow! Gust, why’d you do—!”

Another jab in my hand when I tried to touch where he poked.

“Ow! Damnit! Kid, would you quit poking me?!”

Gust tried to jab me again and I tried to catch it. I succeeded, but all it did was to remind me of how weak I was, and how cut up my palm was, when he pulled it back. I was forced to let go as the pain burned up my arm.

“Gust—!”

“You’re the fox!” he said again, holding the stick out against me. “You are Kat and daddy’s enemy!”

Like a fencer, he shot out with the stick again and I fell on my back in an attempt to avoid another painful prick. I avoided it, but I could not get back up from the ground fast enough. Gust seized the opportunity by pressing a dirty bare foot on my chest, his stick inches away from my face.

“Gust, listen, I’m not their enemy. Honest,” I said, holding out my hands to emphasize.

I held my breath as Gust glared at me and pressed the point of the stick into my cheek. “My mom told me foxes lie,” he said, his angry look unbroken and determined. “She told me, if we meet a fox, we should never listen. We should just kill it!”

Oh, god. Was I really about to be offed by some kid? And what the hell kind of parent tells her kid to kill a fox just for meeting it?

“Gust, I’m telling you, I’m not anyone’s enemy!”

“Well, isn’t this a disappointment.”

A new voice, unfamiliar to me and to Gust—by the look on his face—echoed around us.

We both scanned our surroundings, trying to find the source, when an a dark brown owl with bright yellow eyes landed on Gust’s stick.

Gust and I both screamed. Gust dropped the stick and the owl landed on my chest. I tried to scramble away, but it was like my arms and legs had become lead. I only had the energy to stare, wide eyed, at the large owl who was staring right back at me.

"This is supposed to be my Lady’s new familiar? How absolutely disappointing.”

It was that voice again, closer, but as I looked past the large owl and around us, all I could find was Gust.

“Whose out there?! Is this your owl? Gust, please help get this thing off me before it digs its claws straight through my chest!”

“Oh, does this bother you?”

I groaned in agony as the large talons of the owl broke the skin—but there was that voice again. So close, but where? I felt something terrible sink into place as I looked back into the yellow eyes of the bird.

“And there, it finally catches on. Weak of body and weak of mind. My Lady will not be happy to hear this. No, indeed, she will not.”

It was the owl. The owl was speaking. But there was no way. No, there was absolutely no way it was the owl.

But then the owl took one painful step after the other, edging closer until all I could see were its eyes. “You will tell Mallard, little fox, that Hornroot came to see how the new familiar was shaping up to be. And you will tell Mallard that, at this rate, he’s better off feeding you to the hounds.”

A war cry was sounded then and the owl took flight a moment before a stick came cracking down on my head. A new pain rang out from my skull as the stick snapped in half.

“You can be sure my Lady will hear of this attack! Oh, you can be sure of it!” the owl said before it took off into the woods.

“And stay gone, you dirty old bird!” Gust shouted back at him.

“What the hell was that for!?” I bemoaned, rubbing my head.

Gust turned to me, still holding half of the stick. “The owl is an enemy of Kat and daddy too,” he said, giving me that same determined glare. “And he’s friends with the fox.”

“Oh, yes, we’re the best of friends,” I said, rising slightly so he could get a good look at the bleeding scratches ‘Hornroot’ left in my chest.

“You admit it!”

“What?!”

Seriously, what was with this kid?

I prepared to defend myself, or maybe tell off this kid, while Gust prepared to whack me with his stick again. That’s when I caught the beautiful sight of Kat, still holding the youngest boy, racing towards me while the other kids ran behind her.

“Kat, thank god, this crazy kid was trying to—!”

“Master!” Kat shouted with enough force to make both Gust and I jump. “You are not allowed to go off on your own! You could have gotten lost, or hurt, or worse!”

For his credit, Gust put on a brave face as he held Kat’s fierce glare and pointed his half-a-stick at me. “I was going to kill the fox. I had the perfect chance,” Gust said, matter-of -factly. “We still have a chance, Miss Elizabeth—”

Kat held up a hand to him and Gust fell silent. She looked down to me—at my cuts. “Did he do that?” she asked.

“No, Miss Elizabeth, it was—”

“It’s Kat, Gust, now hush.”

She looked back to me, as did Maple, Gust, and the other kids. All of their dark eyes staring at once really had a way of unnerving someone. I focused on Kat. I couldn’t help but notice how her eyes drifted away when I did.

“You’ll never believe this, Kat, but there was this owl and—”

“Hornroot?”

“Uh, yeah, friend of yours?”

“He is your friend, fox!” Gust declared, pointing at me threateningly with his broken stick.

“Mr. Mallard was wondering when the owl would make an appearance. It was inevitable, but it’s pretty bad timing that it saw you like this.”

“He didn’t seem too pleased to see me,” I pointed out, before growing cold. “So, wait, there are owls that talk now? Is that really a thing too?”

But Kat wasn’t paying me much mind anymore. She appeared to be in deep thought, until the youngest boy rustled in her arms.

“Kitty,” he said, pulling gently at some of her hair. Kat brushed loose hair from his eyes and I swore I saw a small smile come and go.

“Maple, take Trout,” she said, handing the young boy to Maple before walking over to me.

“Do it, Kat!” Gust goaded as she approached me. Her green eyes weren’t really looking at me, and I wondered for a moment if she was actually about to do something. But then she kneeled down and scooped me up in her arms, bridal style.

“You know, Kat, I don’t really like being carried like this,” I mumbled, doing my best to ignore the stares and some of the giggles from the girls.

“Tough,” Kat responded before turning back to face the kids. Gust had a pretty foul look on his face, probably similar to the one I had.

“Run’s over. We’re going back home.”

Many of the kids were pretty bummed about this but, when Kat took off running, they followed. Kat ran at a pretty fast pace, but the kids kept up no problem, even Maple who was still carrying her younger brother, Trout. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if these kids weren’t all that normal, either.

I tried to talk to Kat along the way—about the owl, about Mutt and Stallion, but either the wind drowned me out or she was ignoring me. I really couldn’t tell.

As Kat, the children, and I approached the cabin, I thought about something Mr. Mallard had said. About how the Knowledge was as unique and varied as the people who could wield it. After everything I’d seen so far, I guessed a talking owl wasn’t so out of left field.

Something about that German Shepherd, Hero, made me think he was more than just a dog. I bet, if he had been so inclined, he could talk too.

But talking animals aside, why was Hornroot and its ‘Lady’ so interested in me? Gust said I was supposed to be friends with the owl, but most of the things he said did not make much sense. Like being enemies of Kat and his dad.

His dad was probably the sanest person I’ve met in a while and even if Kat and I were having some problems right now, I wouldn’t consider her an ‘enemy’. She already risked herself to save my life more than once; I wouldn’t consider someone who would do that to be an enemy.

So, then, what did I consider her? Maybe more importantly, what did I consider myself? I still had little idea of how I fit into this nightmare despite being of a great interest to a variety of people.

Hero always seemed to be keeping a close eye on me. Fawn was appalled when she somehow discovered I was with Mr. Mallard. And now this Hornroot was very displeased that I was in the state I was in, even though I had never met him before.

Mr. Mallard, Kat, Mutt, and Stallion did a lot of questionable things to ensure that I would do what they wanted. At first, I thought it was just because they needed Mary back with them, but they kept me around even after she was brought back into their fold. And I haven’t been exactly the most willing participant. However hard it was for them to hold on to me, I made it that much harder by being so understandably unwilling. So much so they had to resort to keeping me near death.

But, why?

As I continued to think back, there were so many opportunities where I could have died. But every time, Kat, Mutt, or Stallion would risk their own lives to save me. Why? It was hard to believe they did it because we were friends. I still knew next to nothing about them and, after everything they put me through, I haven’t exactly been showing them my softer side. They probably considered me a friend just as much as I considered them as one. Which is to say, not at all.

So, then, why?

I was interrupted from my train of thought when Kat and the kids reached the large cabin. Dr. Quincy was already sliding open the glass door, drying his hands with a dish cloth and looking quite worried.

“Kat,” he greeted, looking between her, his kids, and then finally to me. “What happened?”

“Daddy, it’s the fox—!” Gust began to say, until Kat cleared her throat—silencing him immediately.

“I do not think it is wise to keep secrets from me, Master,” Kat said. The even way she spoke, with a hint of malice, sent shivers up my spine. Dr. Quincy’s expression told me he was feeling a similar level of uneasiness.

“Maple, why don’t you take your brothers and sisters inside and help daddy start making lunch?” Dr. Quincy suggested.

Maple, still holding her brother, looked back up at him, studying him with those probing eyes. Dr. Quincy looked back at her until she seemed satisfied and nodded. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“But, daddy—”

“Go with Maple, Gust. Your daddy and Miss Elizabeth have some things to talk about.”

Gust made another one of his sour faces but eventually followed his siblings. Though, he made sure to slam the sliding door shut as hard as he could as he left.

“Now, Miss Elizab—”

“Kat.”

“Kat. I have to tell you that I’m not sure what you’re talking abou—”

“Foxy ran into Hornroot during our run,” Kat interrupted again. “And I know you have something to do with that.”

Dr. Quincy held his mouth shut as he looked between Kat and me. He finally rested his concerned gaze on my cuts. “Did that owl do that to you, Alex? Here, I have some stuff inside to help.”

Dr. Quincy reached out, maybe to take me from Kat’s arms, but then Kat jumped back and hissed at him. Like an actual cat—like how Mutt had growled.

I held my breath. Dr. Quincy appeared rooted in the spot, his hand still outstretched. Slowly, Kat placed me on the ground beside her before straightening back up.

“You brought him here,” Kat said in that even voice. “He would not have known to come here unless someone told him.”

“It was the owl’s...Master. She somehow found out that Alex was with me. She offered to send me extra protection. When I agreed, I did not know it was going to be another familiar. I assumed witches only wanted familiars when they didn’t already have one. Either way, Kat, I’m only doing what I believe is best for my children.”

“Working with a witch is not doing what is best for your children. You should know that better than most people, Master.”

That one stung me. The look that came over Dr. Quincy’s face forced me to lower my eyes. They both fell silent for a short time, until Dr. Quincy said: “What would you have me do, Kat?”

“Keep Foxy and your children inside, Master. Do not leave this place until I deal with Hornroot.”

Dr. Quincy did not respond. Kat was no longer beside me. I looked back down the incline of the mountain and saw that she was already heading down the path that led into the trees. I was still blown away by how unnaturally fast she was.

When I looked back to Dr. Quincy, I saw that he was staring down at the ground, his fists clenched at his sides.

“What would you have me do?” he said again, softly.

“Quinn?”

“Oh, Alex,” he was almost surprised to see that I was still there. “I’m sorry. Here, let’s get you something for those cuts.”

Dr. Quincy carried me to the cabin and into a bathroom near the kitchen. It was smaller than the one in his bedroom, but still larger than any I had seen before it.

After he sat me on the counter, I stared at the new cuts in my chest while he dug around in a closet for medical supplies. They looked bad and stung even worse, but it was nowhere near the pain from the cuts I once had on my back. I could handle it.

I thought again about how I fit into all of this. Dr. Quincy said Hornroot had a Master, and that he was sent as extra protection because I was here. So, that was yet another person who had an interest in me. Were familiars really that sought after? It would help if I could start making some headway into what a familiar was, exactly.

Even though Dr. Quincy seemed unwilling, I was prepared to ask him when he placed a cotton swab of alcohol against my cuts.

“Oh, sorry, Alex. I guess I should have warned you,” Dr. Quincy said with an awkward chuckle as I hissed against the pain. “Didn’t realize you were off in dream land.”

“Quinn, why do you want a familiar?”

He took the cotton swab away from my cuts. I tried to find something in his expression, but he kept his face guarded.

Why? Why all the secrecy? I was already trapped in this nightmare with no foreseeable way out. Why is it always hard to get straight answers?

I was about to lose my cool right then and there, when Dr. Quincy spoke. “Because having a familiar is the only way I could hope to kill my wife,” he said. I felt the anger inside me drain away like it was never there, but he did not stop. “Without a familiar, she will hunt the children...and kill them, or worse, and there would be nothing I could do to stop her.”

“Quinn...”

“And I hate it, Alex,” he said to me, his dark eyes brimming with tears. “I hate that I have to become my wife in order to stop her. I hate that people like me need people like you.”

“What do you mean?”

He didn’t respond and tried to look away when I leaned in closer. “Quinn, what do you mean? What are familiars like?”

Dr.Quincy shook his head as he stood up. I reached out, grabbed his wrist, and he almost fell down in his attempts to shake me off and put distance between us. When he flailed his arm, I was forced to let go and my hand hit the mirror. The impact caused it to crack in various places. It nearly shattered.

I stared at the mirror. I had not hit it that hard. My hand had only fallen into it, but the impact made it look like I had forcefully tried to smash it with my fist.

I caught sight of Dr. Quincy’s horrified face, the cracked reflection making it appear much worse. I turned to his real face as the concerned calls of his children began to echo down the hall. He met my look, and I was taken over by the amount of fear in his face—in his eyes. Was this the way I looked at Mutt?

“I’m sorry, Alex,” he said, and then he was gone.

I stared at the door, then back into the mirror. My reflection was obscured by the new cracks. I was still sweaty and dirty from the encounter with Hornroot.

I really looked like a monster. Weak, feeble, clinging to life.

I got down from the counter. It was difficult and I almost fell, but I found the dark wood cane resting against the wall of the bathroom. Grabbing it, I slowly hobbled out of the room.

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