#windcutter

So here it was, disguised as a handsome youth with dark hair and glittering brown eyes, walking towards the clearing in the forest as if it possessed one of the few invitations Rosalind had seen fit to send out. Someone stopped it just as the lights came into view.

“Sorry, I need to see your invitation-” the girl began, hand already on a poker thrust through a belt. The creature turned its gaze to her, giving its best imitation of a friendly smile. It probably looked grotesque, but the glamor did its work, and the girl withdrew her hand, looking slightly dazed. “Oh- never mind…” she trailed off, as if expecting a name. It would need one of those, it supposed.

“Windcutter,” it said, gracing the girl with another smile. She blushed, waving it through. It was that easy. It was always that easy. It frowned for a second. Was something strange? It dismissed that thought nearly immediately. It was just imagining things, distracting itself from the reason it was here.

The newly christened Windcutter swept its gaze around the party. There were little lights in glass bubbles- faerie lights, he remembered dimly from some conversation. The mood lighting was entirely lost on something with perfect night vision, but it highlighted Rosalind’s face as she hopped down from a tree, brushing off her clothes. Unconsciously, Windcutter’s hand went to its shoulder as phantom pain tingled down the equivalent of its arm.

It was supposed to be easy. The mortals’ minds did most of the work for it; once they hit the glamor, they would fabricate details to cover up any of the little holes. The trick, it had learned, was to add some mild imperfections- these days, the students were wary of anyone too pretty. It had worked for- well, for however long it had been before Rosalind came along.

She was Gar then, one of the Fresh Men, and her roommate had been Koi. Oddly, it barely remembered what Koi smelled like, just that when it saw her at a party, it had deigned it the superior of the two. It had been simple to flirt with her, throw up enough charm that anything it said would attract it, that no warning bells had gone off.

And when Gar had left the party, gone into the back alley, and found it with what remained of Koi, it had been child’s play to send a wave of glamor at her so strong that it wouldn’t have been surprised if Gar had let it consume her as well. It was, understandably, a little surprised when Gar pulled a solid-iron knife and stabbed it. The surprise was nothing compared with the pain, though, and it had… well. It was embarrassing, but it had run, crawling under the glade to metaphorically lick its wounds. It had been mildly perturbed to find that even after it healed, any form it took had a little silver line of scar on the shoulder.

That was how the story ended, somehow. Gar had turned to the knights, and then turned herself to a knight. Somewhere along the way she became Rosalind, and all along the way the creature watched the mortal being that had wounded it for the only time in its long, long life. Its feelings were somewhere between fear and fascination- it had never bothered to follow up on any mortal before, but it had watched as Rosalind declared her major (in “biology”, but everyone knew she was Forbidden Major), had chartered a truce between some of the forbidden majors and the courts, had disappeared for three weeks and reappeared looking haggard but none the worse for wear. This was its last chance to see her up close, so for tonight, it was not hunting. It was… mingling.

It approached one of the party guests milling around. The boy smiled at it as it lightly prodded its influence to surround him.

“Hey,” he said. “It’s…”

“Windcutter,” Windcutter supplied.

“Right, Windcutter, from…”

“School." 

"Windcutter from school,” he said, blinking and nodding. “I remember, yeah. How are you?”

This close, Windcutter could see the freckles on his face, smell the sweat on him, and it had to remind itself that it was there to see Rosalind, not to hunt. The boy was still smiling, it realized, waiting for it to answer as it stared hungrily at him.

“I am well,” it said, a truthful answer. “And you?”

“Looking forward to the rest of the night,” he said, leaning conspiratorially towards Windcutter. “I think you’ll really enjoy it.”

“Bond,” said a clear voice that Windcutter had listened to for three years, “are you monopolizing…”

“Windcutter,” Windcutter said again, turning the full force of its smile to Rosalind. Once again, it had the nagging feeling that something was off, and it had to resist the urge to scratch its shoulder.

“Are you monopolizing Windcutter?” Rosalind finished.

“Not if you want to talk to them,” Bond said. He flashed another charming smile at Windcutter, who made a mental note to see if he could be lured into the woods. “I’ll just go take care of other business, shall I?”

“Sure,” Rosalind said, rolling her eyes. “And make sure that the guards are on alert!” she yelled after his retreating form.

“Guards?” Windcutter said, tilting its head coquettishly to one side. It was just as well that it had glamor to cover for it- it could never remember how far humans were supposed to be able to do that. “Is something the matter?”

“Well, friend,” Rosalind said, then squinted quizzically at it. “Did I never tell you about this?”

“I believe not.”

“Huh.” She looked down. “Well, my friend, this may sound crazy, but I believe that something has been watching me for the past few years.”

“Watching you?” It could have laughed.

“It sounds farfetched, yes, but… I can feel its eyes on me, sometimes. I think I know what it is, too.”

“Do tell,” it purred.

“Do you remember my roommate?”

“Koi, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Rosalind looked away. “Koi. Well, something took her freshman year.”

“How terrible.” It couldn’t decide if it was relieved or disappointed; relieved it was in no danger, disappointed that Rosalind was so far below its estimation.

“I found her,” Rosalind said. “And that thing standing over her. It tried to make me… I don’t really know. Forget, or stop caring, but I was so angry that it just washed over me, and I stabbed it, and it ran.”

“How brave of you.” The creature shifted in place slightly. Something was definitely strange here. It felt… it didn’t know. Something.

“I didn’t really have much choice,” Rosalind said with a laugh. She drew a sword, idly flipping it in her hand. “It was instinct. I think if it was anything else, I wouldn’t be here today. Whatever it did- did you know, somehow it had managed to make her take off her iron and salt?”

The creature knew, of course it did, it-

Wait.

Rosalind was no fool. She couldn’t be, in order to have lived this long as a knight or a Forbidden Major. Protection was basic enough that even the newest and most naive knew to have it, to demand to see it.

And it had gotten this far without any protection at all. No lines of salt, no running water, nothing. The fact they hadn’t touched it with iron or salt could be put down to its power, but not the basic, rudimentary safety procedures for an outdoor party.

Alarm bells started ringing in Windcutter’s head. Who held a party outside, in the woods, in the dark?

“We were close, did you know that?” Rosalind continued. She still wasn’t looking at it. “She even told me her true name. Trusting to a fault." 

"I… should go,” Windcutter said. It had ignored its instincts for too long. Something was wrong.

“It was Rosalind,” Rosalind said. “I never forgot.” And then, finally, she met its eyes.

Windcutter jerked back, a hiss of revulsion bubbling from its throat. It was not Rosalind’s eyes in her face: they glittered as if cut from gems, and, worse, it knew somehow that she could see it, really, see it. It felt suddenly like a butterfly pinned to paper, trying to squirm away from that horrible perception. It turned, still hissing, to see Bond returning, armed with a spear. He wasn’t smiling anymore, and now that it was looking, it realized that his eyes glittered similarly. All of the partygoers eyes did, they- they could all see it- 

“A little deal with the Spring Queen,” Rosalind said conversationally behind it. “Three weeks of my time to serve her, and for every day, an hour of Sight and a clear mind for someone at my little soiree.”

It bolted then, half-mad with the eyes of the party boring into it. It sprinted into the woods, then screamed as it hit the salt line, scrambling back on burning feet. Of course there was a salt line now. They had lured it in.

“Tell me,” Rosalind said as it whirled. She was on guard now, sword out and willing. “Why did you watch me?”

“Never been hurt before,” it said, the truth being dragged out almost against its will. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be above its prey.

“Really.”

“You’re leaving soon,” it said. Offering a deal was something it hadn’t done before, but it needed a way out, and Rosalind’s speech had given it an idea. “Let me out and I can promise you you’ll forget what happened to her. You can let go of the anger.”

“Who told you I was leaving?” Rosalind smiled, all teeth and no friendliness. “My classes are over, but I’m staying. Someone has to make sure beasts like you don’t hunt for too long.”

The creature hadn’t ever really had to fight; nobody had armed themselves against it, after all. Its claws slid out almost involuntarily as the fear and rage flowed through it, rendering it incapable of human speech. It hissed again defiantly.

“That’s right,” Rosalind said, her voice almost hypnotically soothing. “It’s you or me. One of us leaves tonight, the other one stays here forever.” Without moving her eyes from the creature, she jerked her head over her shoulder. “The salt line has a break in it behind me. Get through me, and you can leave.”

Frightened, cornered, the creature growled deep in its throat and unthinkingly sprang.