Beautiful Beast

Chapter 23

ARAWN

For three days, I go hunting without sighting a single animal. On the fourth day, Kalista joins me and patiently explains again that I am allowing the forest to manipulate me.

"It is about magic as much as it is about the skill of the hunter," she says.

"But I don't have any magic." I sigh in annoyance.

"Neither do the creatures. You're thinking too practically. You just need to feel."

I attempt to follow her instructions for an hour and finally, I see a robin perched on the branch of a tree. And suddenly, I realize that she is right. I am trying to find the animals, trying to force myself to step into their world. However, their world is already all around me and I have simply put blinders on. Once I open myself to the magic, I slowly catch sight of more creatures—squirrels, rabbits, blue jays. Awe so overcomes me that I leave my bow upon my back. Today, I will learn to understand this strange phenomenon; tomorrow, I will hunt.

My fingers slip over the soft feather fletching in a movement that is both familiar and painful. I used to hunt with Gareth. Together, we would creep through the forest after our prey—it was more a game of stealth than it was a hunt. In this one activity, we could spend hours in each other's company. Few words were spoken, but that was alright since conversation between us often ended in anger or frustration on at least one side.

Stepping over a fallen log, then crouching behind an ivy-twisted bush, I pull my bowstring back. The stag I have been tracking all afternoon is standing in a clearing just beyond my hiding place. He is a magnificent beast and it is rather a shame to shoot him, but his meat will supply Kalista and I for weeks.

Slowly, I lift myself above the underbrush and raise my bow. One clumsy movement and the stag will be gone and with it, any other deer in the area. I fix my eyes upon his chest—where the lungs are—and exhale a slow breath. The arrow shoots from the string and whistles through the clearing. It strikes true, stunning the stag, but within two seconds, it still stumbles out of the clearing. I nock another arrow and follow the creature. It does not go far and soon I find it fallen. It is dead.

When I am finished gutting the deer, I whistle a pattern. The sound echoes off of the trunks of the southern quarter and soon, the plodding of a familiar set of hooves approaches. Hector, like me, has now become familiar with these woods, so much so that he can find me when I call for him. This feat is one that took some experimentation and Kalista's help. She would stand near him while I called. It took a few tries, but he soon found me every time.

I tie the carcass to Hector's back and lead him toward the palace. Kalista is in the garden pruning roses when I arrive, and I lead Hector toward her. "We will have a feast tonight," I call.

She looks up from her roses and her face pales. "Arawn that is absolutely repulsive."

"What, that we will feast?"

She motions with her shears toward the deer. "No, that bloody carcass."

"It's just a deer."

"A dead deer. Get it away from me." She shoos me away with her hands.

"Alright, alright, I'm going." With a laugh, I turn Hector toward the kitchens. Strange woman. She can fight the wolves in a bloody battle and even light fire to one of them, but when it comes to a dead deer, she cannot stand it.

I haul the carcass into the cellar where I cut enough off for a stew and leave the rest to hang. As I emerge into the kitchen, I call for Janine, but there is no reply so I choose a variety of vegetables and herbs and begin to slice them for a stew. Just when I am about to go in search of Cedric or Pierre, the former whispers into the kitchen. First, I dictate an invitation for Kalista for tonight's meal, then I have him bring me my latest article of research. It is a book, or rather a fairy tale. Kalista once told me that the stories of magic often bear elements of truth, so I added them to my to-read list. This one, is the story of a princess cursed to be silent; perhaps, not so far from our reality.

While I assemble the stew, I read the story. As I am slicing carrots, I come to the climax where the prince kisses the victim and utters his undying love. I pause and reread that section. Could that be the answer? It is, of course, viable since Galinda cursed Kalista out of hate and because she saw her as an unlovable beast.

I discovered that he loved his music more than he loved me. He never came back. Kalista's words echo in my mind. She spoke of love. She had hoped that he would return and tell her that he loved her.

But do I love her?

What if I say I love her and it isn't entirely true?