My eyes flickered open to an onyx sky glittered with stars. A cold wind brushed my cheek.
"I must have fallen asleep.” I thought lazily. I chuckled softly to myself before turning my head to see if Anne was asleep as w—
There was no one else. I was alone on the blanket, surrounded by the remains of what had been an afternoon picnic. Fragments of what used to be a chocolate bar wrapper tumbled along lazily in the mild wind. The lid of my thermos had fallen off and lay on the grass, several feet from its body. A napkin sat as a makeshift plate, weighed down by the remains of Anne’s chicken salad sandwich.
I got up at once. It was too dark to see much across the field, but if I squinted I could make out the blurry shape of the car along the roadside. She hadn’t gone home then. Turning to face the woods, I saw shadowed footprints leading into the trees. Ah, that explained it, Anne had decided to go exploring after I had dozed off. But... that must have been hours ago—why hadn’t she come back? I shivered in the night wind—whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter. She was cold and likely lost or injured. It would be easy enough to trace Anne’s steps.
The forest seemed to have other plans. The canopy blocked most of the moonlight and I was only a few feet in when the remaining slivers of illumination became useless for finding the tracks. I squinted and strained my eyes against the night to find the imprints of Anne’s shoes, but shadows obscured the ground. If it was this hard to see so close to an exit, it must be almost pitch-black further in. Anne was lost somewhere, trapped by nightfall and a veiled forest unable to find her way back. The keys to the car were in the picnic basket—I could go home and get a flashlight and a proper coat. I spun around but stopped after a single step. I found myself unwilling to leave. Even with the roads less filled at night, it would take at least two hours to drive home and back. I couldn’t leave her for that long, not when she needed me. But... if I didn’t go back, I could get just as lost as she was.
“So? Are you out or in?” said a tiny voice. I blinked and turned to my right. Sitting on a tree branch and framed clearly against the darkness was a tiny man no taller than my hand was long. With peaked furry ears, a scruffy mane, and the ropey tail of an indistinct animal, I would have chalked the sight up to exhaustion or worry had I not just had a nap and a mind cleared by determination to find Anne.
“So? Are you out or in?” The man repeated, tilting his head quizzically at me. “I have to say, you’re taking a lot longer to make up your mind than that other one did.”
Other one...? Oh! “You’ve seen Anne!?” I asked eagerly. The question of the figure’s reality took a backseat to her safety.
The man shrugged. “I guess so, didn’t catch her name—why the interest?”
I took a step forward. “She might be lost and I have to find her.”
“Lost, eh?” The man frowned. “Yea, I guess she did get lost. Not sure I’d use that word now though. I guess ‘stuck’ would be the best way to put it, but even that might not be right depending on how you look at it...”
I gaped. This little... whatever... was going on to himself about semantics! “Look,” I said firmly and with a tinge of irritation, “do you know where Anne is?” He nodded; I gave a sigh of relief. “Good, can you take me to her?”
“No.”
I was taken aback by the bluntness of the reply. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”
The man’s tail curled around until it rested in his lap. “This ‘Anne of yours wandered into fairy territory. Rules say I can’t knowingly show or guide you to any area fae claim as their own. That does not, however, mean I’m not allowed helping you.” He paused and looked up at me. “This is the part where you ask me what kind of help I can offer.”
I frowned. “This could also be the part where I trap you in my thermos unless you get to the point.”
“Oh fine,” The man pouted, “We’ll do it your way then. “Even if I’m not allowed to show you where to go, I’m still able to give you some things that will help you find your Anne. Eyes that can see in the dark for example.”
“Fine.” I said flatly. “Do that then.”
“You sure?” The sprite asked, getting to his feet. “I could be trying to trick you.”
“If you were then you wouldn’t be giving me a chance to change my mind.”
He shrugged. “Touché. Alrighty then, just hold still for a sec.”
Without waiting for a response he hopped off his tree branch and perched on my nose. With flick of his tail as my only warning, he kicked me straight in both eyes before rebounding back to the branch.
“OW! The hell was that for!” I yelled, eyes watering.
“All part of the magic.” The sprite countered with a slight chuckle in his voice. “Take a look.”
If only it were that easy. My vision was blurred as my eyes tried to recover from the kicks. I pressed them shut and rubbed before trying to blink and clear away the tears. When I was able to look round, I immediately noticed that everything was brighter. No, not brighter—more clear.
“I can...see in the dark?”
“Yuppers! Easy to do too! Just had to swap out your eyes for something more fit for the task.”
“Swap...my eyes?”
The little man shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted my help. If you’d rather be blind as a bat I can always swap your peepers back. Or give you actual bat eyes. Honestly it’s all up to you really since I don’t have any prefer—hey! Where’re you going?”
I left the man behind and entered the woods. It was easy to pick out Anne’s footprints against the soil with these new eyes. The darkness had not lifted, but I was more aware of it. The leaves I brushed aside were slightly lighter than the surrounding wood, and the wood was not as black as the forest floor. Each indent of Anne’s footprints cast differently than the surrounding soil. What had been an ebon veil had parted into a series of curtains. I could see each layer of shadow more distinctly, which in turn let me see better in the shroud of night. These insights were taken in without effort, occupying my brain while heart and mind constantly swept for the next print—all the while wondering what had drawn Anne so far into the woods.
I couldn’t tell how much time had passed. The trees overhead permitted nothing through but the barest thread of moonlight. With my drive for Anne occupying conscious thought, hours could easily hide as minutes. Through thickets and bushes I followed the prints; over logs and under fallen trees.
Eventually, a latent fear began to rise. Initially dismissed as a trick of the shadows in my unfamiliar eyes, it became clear that Anne’s footprints had begun to fade as I progressed. Solid marks framed against the night had become light stamps, and now I had come across a print that was too weak to finish. I scanned furiously but no further signs came. My wail flew through empty woods as I fell upon the lost trail. My hands pressed against the ground and begged the stone underneath to grant the same favour as the soil behind me. It, of course, refused.
“You’re hardly done.” Came a tiny voice. The man stepped into view as I raised my head.
“You said these eyes would let me find Anne.” I said coldly.
The man tutted, “I said they would /help/ you find her, which they did. You’re here, aren’t you?”
There was truth to this. “How far into the forest am I?”
“Anne went further.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“How can you not be?” He tapped a foot—an impatient gesture at odds with his current demeanour.
I gritted my teeth. “Because this isn’t like her. Anne wouldn’t run off without at least leaving a note. She isn’t the kind of person who’d let me worry.”
The man held me in a frank gaze. “You were asleep and she was bored. A quick look into the forest, not more than ten minutes. To be in and out before you woke.”
That sounded like something she would do. “But why would she go so far in? I was asleep for hours—Anne wouldn’t leave for that long.”
“She didn’t. Or, she didn’t think she did, rather. How to put this...” The man stroked his tail in musing. “Ah, I know! Tell me, how long has it been since our first meeting?”
I found myself unable to answer. I strained to find duration in my time following the footprints, but only vague landmarks came. When the tracks weaved around a tree or when I had to climb over a log. I had cut myself on a loose twig sticking out of some brush—but was that before or after the prints had started to fade? More confusing, my eyes were still sore from being kicked—if hours had passed then the pain would have faded.
“Exactly.” The man said, reading my expression. “Now, would you like some more help?”
I blinked, attention returning to reality. “Yes, but... better eyes won’t help me see what isn’t there.”
Without a word, the sprite leapt towards me. I shut my eyes but they weren’t his target. He grabbed my nose and pulled. I felt a...thrusting sensation...followed by a sudden awareness that my sinuses had cleared. Opening my eyes showed the addition of a narrow muzzle to my face; tipped with the cold, wet nose indicative of canines. I touched the nose experimentally.
“The nose knows what the eye can’t see.” Chimed the man in a sing-song voice.
I didn’t reply, instead choosing to probe the inside of my extended mouth with a lengthened tongue.
“Gotta tell you though,” the man said as he stretched. “You got one uuuugly face right now. I definitely chose function over fashion. Which reminds me...”
He extended a hand. Without considering the size difference, I extended my own to reciprocate. Instead of shaking, the sprite tapped the centre of my palm.
“Just a bit of extra help. You’ll see why soon enough.” He offered in response to my puzzled look. “You’d best get going, no? Anne still needs finding.”
Anne! To my shame I had allowed her to fall from my forefront! I fell upon the ground and, on finding the final footprint, let the world flow through my nose. The forest exploded. The canopy unfurled into countless leaves, each tinged with its own variety of a singular, sour odour. Bark became a jagged totem and twigs, detritus, and grass formed scattered interludes overtop the deep fullness of the dirt below. There was something else, however; something an unexplored instinct knew was not of the woods. It was a supple scent; a scent that was mixed with fumes and steel of cities but held fast in a gentle repose. A scent with a faint hint of chicken. Anne.
I continued with Anne’s fair aroma guiding me like a bee. The forest tried to interpose—to make itself known against her soft scent, but I refused and only allowed it what I could value. As I doggedly obeyed the trail, I became both aware of and thankful for the sprite’s parting trade. Following Anne’s scent required me to be as close to the ground as I could. Reason dictated that pursuing on all fours would be the most efficient way to do this. The sprite had gifted me with leathery pads on the palms of my hands and—for I could feel them against my socks—the soles of my feet. The rough ground scattered with stones and twigs would have hampered my pursuit were it not for the protection these pads offered. As I removed my shoes to better access this boon, I found that mild structural changes had occurred to my feet and legs. Resuming my hunt, the purpose of this became welcome. Movement was far easier now; I could keep my muzzle to the ground and chase after the scent as well as any bloodhound.
The night had become tinged with the rising glow of the morning sun. As light-born colours seeped into the woods, I found the scenery to hold a strange cast. While my increased awareness of grey and shadows permitted certain detail, the colours around me were brightly stained in some portions and faded in others. Such information was taken in and then set aside; unimportant to my search for Anne. What mattered was that the soft flow of her scent, a constant for so long, had begun to steadily increase in strength. What mattered was that my paws spurred me onwards. What mattered was that—as uncaring soil gave way to the soft, cool, and welcoming grass of a field—my heart raced as I knew I was nearing Anne.
Morning light emerged at last, joining me as I entered the glade. The lush clearing smelled of fresh life and open wind. This formed an odd contrast with the forest, made all the more so by how I was still within it. This scent combined with the smell I had followed for so much uncounted time. They mingled, enriching each other and strengthening me. My tired muscles relaxed as I strode amongst the grass. A thicket ringed the edge of the clearing, a copse of bushes and shrubs arranged around large stones that spoke to me of shelter and safety. Anne was here.
I paused, and then rose up with some difficulty onto the two legs that had started me through the forest. Silently, I parted the thicket and peered through. Fast asleep and curled up, sheltered by the stones above, was a vixen. Anne’s auburn coat waved lightly in the faint morning breeze; the early wind wafted towards me the scent I had so loyally followed. I stepped back and once more found the sprite sitting on a branch. His appearance was shaded now, a false contrast from being as unaffected by the light of morning as it was from the dark of night.
“She entered land forbidden to humans and was caught.” The man said. There was a tired, but unemotional quality to the words. This was a delivery he had made many times before. “She is no better or worse off than she was, as much as that concept can matter to human sensibilities. No one else knows you’re here yet and the way back is far easier than the way forward. I can return what I traded from you.”
I looked at the sprite through fox eyes. “Why help me?”
“Because you would not stop wondering otherwise.”
I knew this to be true. Wondering and ‘what if’ are worse than definitive loss. If I left now, I would have the ability to move on. Anne was not in danger or need. But I was not her saviour.
I dropped back to all fours and passed through the thicket. Fur grew along my body. My ears rose and became pointed. A tail flowed to guide my balance. Clothes fell or were shrugged off as I shrank. Entering the den, I approached Anne and curled up next to her. With a light yip, I nuzzled her, gentle to avoid waking. She licked my nose before returning to sleep.
