Of Monsters and The Innocence Within

The Trade

Fourteen-year-old Avery Clemmons always thought monsters had sharp teeth, long, curved claws, and red eyes that could consume a soul in a glance. Until one such monster came, with a short beak, surprisingly soft eyes, and gentle wings, and disappeared with her baby brother into the night.

No words spoken, no sounds made, just there one second, and gone the next, leaving only an open window that lets the cold, December air of Whitefish, Montana creep through and settle in Avery's bones.

Without a thought for shoes, coat, or a cry for help to her sleeping parents, Avery pulls the crib aside enough to climb onto the windowsill and jumps to the ground outside. Her eyes search the clear sky, moon illuminating the parallel road before her and the wild forest beyond.

And while she takes off into the forest, following a soft caw made from the large bird she had seen, only two thoughts blare like an alarm in her mind: A freaking huge bird just kidnapped Matthew! And I should have grabbed my shoes.

An hour could have passed, or less than, when Avery finally has a moment to catch her breath, fuzzy sock-clothed feet soaked from the inch of snow she's run through. Bent over, she presses her hands to her knees, sucking in air to feed her burning lungs, one hand moving to clutch her aching side. Her head whips up at an infant's cry, not too far off now, and panic seizes her as she ducks, turns, and pushes low-hanging branches and wild plants aside in her hurry. Oh God, Matthew! Please, God, don't let him be hurt!

Huffing and puffing, she ignores the new scratches and scrapes on her body, the numb-tingling sensation starting in her fingers and toes and pushes on. She stops when she hears voices.

Unnatural. Guttural.

Was that a growl?

Collapsing to her hands and knees, she crawls forward under some brush, stopping just before a small clearing where, unbelieving, she watches as animals, prey and predator alike, are gathered around a large stone, on which is her baby brother. And the animals are talking. What's going on?! I didn't know animals could talk! Wait, am I going crazy? This has to be some sort of dream!

Avery pinches her arm, hard, then the other, eyes squeezed shut. Opening them again, the clearing is still there, her baby brother is still crying, and the animals are still talking. When his cries rise in volume, her heart lurches in her chest and she raises herself up to go to him, grab him, and run, but stops when a rather large bear sits down in front of her and blocks her vision of all to the right.

"Can't you shut that thing up, Cheep! I want to go back to sleep, and that ugly thing is giving me a headache." Avery could feel the power in that voice, the deep ferocity of it in her core and she freezes. A new fear takes hold of her heart. Animals can smell a human's scent. She thinks about all the sweat covering her body right now. Lord, I don't want to die, but please don't let them eat Matthew either! Could I still make it to the clearing, grab him, and run for it? The thought is tempting, but the sudden realization that she has never been this far into the woods before crushes any thought of escape. Crap, what am I going to do?

"Humans call it a baby, Blackfoot," a large grey squirrel says, climbing up onto the stone and curling herself around Matthew. His cries slowly stop as he becomes focused on grabbing her fluffy tail and pulling on it. "And don't worry, you'll be able to go back to sleep when the Old One gets here."

Thankful that Matthew is being warmed and Blackfoot seemed calm, despite his continuous muttering under his breath, Avery props herself up on her elbows and listens and watches, body ready to spring into action whenever she gets the chance. Who is the Old One? Is he going to eat her brother?