Excerpt: Maveprir: Night Ghost

He found himself traveling through forests about ten miles from the tent town where the hairhounds had chased him. His instincts told him he should leave, before they recognized him again, but the maveprir was tired of traveling miles and miles. It had been months; they would have forgotten. Humans never recognized individuals of his kind. He managed to hold off the memories for three days, until he heard human voices in the distance.

As he darted through the trees away from them, memory threatened to choke him: chomping jaws, howling voices, arrows streaking by his head. And over it all, the faded images of his father’s limbs flailing against dark thrashing hairhound bodies, his father’s screech as strong net fibers wrapped around him-

Something stopped Finley short with a jerk. He shrieked in panic and anger as he found himself suspended in the air, his hanging body supported by the soft pressure of rope tied into a net. He screamed and thrashed, ripping at the fibers with his teeth. The soft material parted, only to reveal metal wires underneath. His throat hurt as he cried out in outrage.

“Quiet!”

“It can't understand you-”

The second man’s voice cut off as Finley stilled. His round eyes flicked about, taking in everything he had missed in the whirl of his panic. Four men and a young human male stood underneath him, all looking up. The only thing Finley noticed was the strung bow, with an arrow pointing straight to his heart. The man holding the weapon looked up at the prey dangling in the net from calm brown eyes. He held the instrument that could kill, yet Finley saw no danger from him. None of these humans posed any danger, really. He could tear them all down with one slash, if only he could untangle himself from this infernal net.

And yet, his chest constricted in fear as he looked to the other three men. The tallest one stared up at Finley with a mixture of amazement and distant hate in his face. A shorter one, with the same blue eyes and strong nose as the tallest man, had an eagerness in his eyes that Finley didn’t like. The last one kept the young, slight-framed boy back with a big hand. The child, probably only ten years old, gawked up at the creature with open fear in his face. Finley bared his teeth, which he knew were encrusted with dried blood, and growled harshly. The boy didn’t flinch back at the rough sound, but he took fright at the sight of the creature’s gaze focused on him.

The men shifted when they saw the frightened child, and for a moment Finley thought the arrow would come streaking toward him. The shorter man shook his head, and with that the light in his eyes disappeared. “So, it’s not a spirit. Just-”

“An animal, I told you,” the tallest man interrupted.

“Yes…we have to get it down,” the shorter man said in a voice that was almost hesitant.

The man with the bow shot him an annoyed look. “Ben, how are we going to get it to even track-”

“Let’s just get it down.” The tallest man’s voice was calm. The shorter man gave a quick nod and went to where the end of a rope was tied around the base of a tree. He untied it, and Finley fell to the ground with an indignant squawk. The maveprir might be calm on the outside, but inside, his mind was spinning.

He rubbed jostled limbs where he had banged them on the ground, and glanced up. The man with the bow had loosened the string but still held the arrow ready. The shorter man—Ben?—stared down at Finley, his eyes intense with wanting for something the maveprir couldn’t name. The last man, who had slightly darker skin than the rest, had pulled the boy further away from him. They both hovered at the back of the group. The taller man held a staff loosely in his hands. He gazed down at the maveprir, his eyes boring in to Finley’s own. Finley returned the man’s harsh look and wondered why the human looked so familiar. His mind consciously noticed that the man’s eyes were blue, and memory came crashing in.