The Moonshine Heart

PrologueRohene I stared unflinchingly into the barrel of a rifle. Though my teeth chattered, I didn’t forget my status as the leader of an army. “Stand and fight!” But Nora didn’t stand, or fight. My next-in-command bolted into the trees, leaving me alone with the armed woman we’d intended to rob. At least, we’d assumed the cloaked figure to be a woman, but as she leaped athletically from her horse a golden vapor emanated from her hands, as elusive as a memory. It danced and darted in and out of her cloak, never still. The instant it became solid, it shimmered and changed form. Clearly, the vapor was the result of magic, and the woman was no human at all but a witch disguised as a person. Her disguise incensed me. Filthy witch. “Show yourself. Would you hide beneath cheap tricks?” The thick fog continued to linger until she cleared it with a dismissive wave of her hand. “An interesting question. Would I? I mean, yeah, I might do.” She laughed. Her voice was smooth and yet complex, like layers of color stretched throughout forest trees, or the lingering aftertaste of wine. Those few words initiated a ricochet reaction. A tingling sensation began in my stomach, a haunting essence like a nursery rhyme long forgotten and out of reach. I’d never experienced magic first-hand before but had been warned since childhood of the dangers of spells and potions. Long had my people been at war with the filth we termed ‘witch kind,’ being neither human nor beast, but a devilish mixture of the two. However, I was no feinting princess, and nor was I easily scared. Actually, being confronted face-to-face by an enemy lent me confidence. It took but seconds before I was ready for a fight I expected to win. Concentrate. Focus. Prepare. My chances of success were better than average, being an experienced soldier trained in the art of combat. No human could match my skill or temerity, and I doubted a witch would be any different. She appraised me coolly, allowing her foolish gaze to hover over my clenched fists and bow—a mistake I’d never have committed. I brazenly held her gaze and squared my shoulders by way of answer, making it clear I’d never grovel to one as lowly as her. Her gaze went up and down my tense body, poised to spring into action. I ignored the unfamiliar warmth which spread throughout my limbs, dismissing it as yet another trick. “See something you like?” She laughed. “Oh, yes. Very much. How pretty you’d look naked. All prim and proper! How I’d love to help you unwind.” She leaned forward. “I’d like to see you climax.” I snarled at her filthy tongue and tried to ignore the barrage of images which entered my mind, the tightening of my chest, and the flush which disloyally heated my cheeks. “I’m way out of your league.” Like most witches, she was dressed in a heavy cloak that didn’t disguise her creed—slender wrists dripped witchy jewelry, and a magical stone glinted from her neck. She shook her mane of red, untamed hair. “Out of my league? Yes, you’re tall, but would you stand so properly once I’d undressed and kissed you, baby?” She puckered plump lips and then blew me a kiss. “Kissed all of you. Don’t be scared.” My initial fright withered away into scorn which reinforced my status as leader of a forest army, albeit an insignificant battalion the queen had never heard of. “Shut up! I’m out of your league because you’re a witch. How dare you address me so—so—?” Her gaze traversed my body again, while I fought to remain calm. “So? Yes, darling?” Darling. My disloyal heart beat as fiercely as if I actually were naked, instead of dressed in a close-fitting uniform. My cheeks felt hot, and my brow sweaty. Suddenly I was aware of the abrasive cloth which rubbed my n*****s. Something pulsed between my legs, which horrified me. The cringe-worthy physical symptoms made me question my own state of mind. Was I afraid? And if so, why should I be afraid of her? I fell back on what I knew—guns, weapons, and facts. I supposed a witch could do harm by way of spells and incantations, but she’d probably never used a rifle and almost certainly didn’t even know where the trigger was. Unfortunately, her lack of skill didn’t make her less dangerous. Fearing she’d shoot me accidentally I fluttered my lashes in the way my second-in-command did. “I’m sorry. Please let me go.” It hurt to grovel but there was no alternative. Strangely, begging for help from the witch felt disgustingly good, like swimming naked in a warm river in summer. The witch sardonically raised an eyebrow. “Did you say please? Ask again.” The facial shift caused her expression to relax. She was extremely pretty, with laughing eyes and round cheeks peppered with freckles. Despite not being interested in s*x, an involuntary shudder rippled throughout my muscled body. I longed to tear off my clothes and bare all. Fuckery! Like all forest soldiers, I’d been warned about witches who led hapless soldiers into the swamps. Not I. She didn’t scare or interest me. Worse scenario: I expected her to shout insults before releasing me with a warning. Her kind wasn’t associated with weapon use. Instead, they caused trouble within our forests and laid traps for foolish travelers. Witches were as low as pesty insects—they swarmed, stole our lands and crops, and were generally distasteful creatures. The witch’s eyelid twitched. Beneath her frosty exterior, I assumed she was terrified—my green forest garb spoke of strength, loyalty, and truth, whereas her stupid jewels gave her away for what she was—a trickster. I grew bored of waiting for her to beg my forgiveness and placed my hands on my hips. Rather than begging, I assumed command. As the leader of the forest army, it was beneath me to allow a mere witch to take control or anyone else for that matter. “Release me now or you’ll regret it.” Things went downhill fast. My plea disappeared like water off a duck’s-back. The golden mist surrounding the witch thickened and the environment around us froze. An insistent buzzing sound permeated the wind, autumn leaves scurried and the branches ahead swayed dangerously. An unfamiliar sensation blossomed in my stomach; a mixture of hunger, excitement, fear, homesickness, and an uncontrollable, primal urge I couldn’t identify. My hands trembled and my brow grew sweaty. As an experienced soldier, I’d been trained to show no fear. Despite my best efforts, however, I couldn’t control my own body, though the reasons why weren’t clear—the witch posed no realistic threat. It was unlikely she’d risk open war by shooting, and her ‘magic’ was comprised of trinkets and lies. Minutes ticked past. I’d fallen into a spell and was trapped like a fly in a spider’s web. Bizarrely, an image of a full moon wouldn’t leave my mind. The witch held my gaze, staring through narrowed eyes the colors of leaves and forests, skies, and changing seasons. Her face froze and emptied as if her feelings and essence had landed elsewhere. She reminded me of a wooden doll I’d owned as a child. Everything about her was unnatural and wrong, different from anyone or anything I’d encountered, even from other witches. In the wake of crushing indifference, I crumbled, my legs shook and my knees wobbled. Her inscrutable features, rather than the gun, terrified me. I was used to people who shouted, laughed, and willingly revealed their innermost thoughts, not statues hidden behind a façade. Terror claimed my body and mind. I became certain the witch intended to mindlessly fire as if I were a fly—pepper me with bullets and then climb back onto her horse as if nothing had happened. Up until then, I’d been a plucky, argumentative girl who never backed down. Never. Confronted with the witch’s stare, every last drop of strength withered away into the orange autumnal leaves. I was out of my depth, without any idea of how to escape. Unexpected tears dripped down my cheeks. “Please. Please, don’t.” Abruptly, the witch snapped out of whatever state she’d been in, stepped closer, and then poked the rifle into my stomach. “Scared? Is that all? I’d heard you relished a fight. Am I wrong, Rohene?” More tears erupted from the corners of my stupid eyes. The witch reacted to my distress but her intention wasn’t clear. Perhaps I was wrong, but it seemed my plea had disappointed her. As well, she seemed surprised at my fear. I wondered how she’d heard about me and knew my name, though it wasn’t unusual to be recognized by strangers because of my bow skill. Possibly she’d caught a glimpse of me at an award ceremony, though I’d certainly never seen her before. “I—I don’t know, madame.” Though she couldn’t have been much older than my eighteen years, I hoped the term of respect would encourage her to treat me kindly. I simply wasn’t ready to die at the hand of an inferior. It began to rain. I huddled further into my green hood but the woman flung away hers and growled at the rain instead. Her words rose in volume and passion. “Come on! Give me your worst. This pup is no match for me. How disappointing. What about snow and thunder? I want to play, not bandy words with a silly little girl.” Pup? Little girl? Though frightened, I bristled at the belittling insults. Instinctively my hands made fists and I tensed my body, prepared, at last, to fight. The witch chuckled and blew me another kiss. “Good. Much better. I see you’ve spirit in you, after all. Try harder. Dig deep!” Her urging made no sense, but then her kind was indecipherable to forest dwellers. Their way of life was alien to us, and ours to them. The witches lived many miles away, in lands I knew nothing about. For all I knew she really was the descendant of trolls and fairies, as nursery rhymes stated. Since time began, my people and hers had been enemies, each trying to steal land from the other and both responsible for war and hardship. The difference between us was simple: I was human. She wasn’t. After further mutual eying, I found my voice. “Please let me go. I’m sorry for trying to ambush you. We didn’t mean to rob you, I promise. It was a game, nothing more.” We’d absolutely meant to rob every last coin she possessed. On spying the lone rider on the central pathway, we’d assumed it would be easy to overpower and rob her. She rolled her eyes and tutted dramatically. If I hadn’t been so confused, maybe I’d have noticed better the beauty in those green-brown-blue-yellow eyes, flashing as bright as lightning. And—if my knees hadn’t been wobbling, perhaps I’d have also admired the fullness of her lips and the determined way in which she thrust forward her breasts. Simply put, the woman—witch—was gorgeous, different from the slender forest dwellers, who preferred to wear plain clothing which merged into the dark forests. She stood out, voluptuous and curvy as if her body preened at every angle for attention. I noticed the pleasing outline of her breasts and thighs—I who’d never been interested in s*x. But I was just eighteen, with little experience of women, and none of desire. All I sought was escape. Much, much later, I’d remember her features and multi-layered voice as well as if they’d been etched into my brain. She nudged my bow with her booted foot. “What about this? Can you use it? Or are you too scared, soft little kitty?” I forgot my fear. “Shut up! What good woman can’t use a bow and arrow? Better than you, anyway. But I was forgetting—you’re no good woman, but a dirty witch.” Remembering too late who held the rifle, I held myself still and inwardly cursed my arrogance and stupidity. Never could I hold my tongue. The woman-witch threw her head back and laughed girlishly. In her mirth, she forgot to keep a watchful eye on me. * * * * I took my chance and legged it into the trees fast, legs full pelt, without regard for the terrain. I thrust aside branches, twigs, nettles, and brambles as if the devil were in pursuit. I experienced no pain or muscle ache, only a sense of freedom that none but those threatened by death could appreciate. I was fit and healthy and used to intense exercise, after all. None could match my athletic abilities and not many would even try.