Backward

By Christine Smith

Where the beast came from, I had no idea.

I was only passing through this kingdom. A gentle breeze threaded through my loose braid. I’d been enjoying the quiet and the view, in spite of the large, bare patches dotting the green fields alongside the dirt road. I had come to appreciate these tranquil moments after spending half my childhood in a loud orphanage. Just me and the quiet—my favorite type of day.

Then, a hulking creature shot out from behind a group of trees straight toward me.

As it tore through the grass on impossibly large hooves, I did what any self-respecting wanderer would do. I shrieked. Loudly.

It resembled a… horse? If horses were nine feet tall, had antlers sprouting from their heads, and had eyes glowing like blue flames.

So maybe not a horse.

I lurched around and rummaged through my rucksack as I ran. My frantic fingers dug past the pocket watch that only worked during the full moon, the socks enchanted to keep my feet warm in freezing temperatures, and the vials of ancient remedies.

Come on!

The ground rumbled. I dared a glance over my shoulder and immediately regretted it. The monster was so close I could see saliva dripping from its teeth.

I ripped items from my pack wildly.

Aha!

I snatched out the far-too-big leather boots, shoved them on over my sandals, nearly falling on my face in the process, and continued to run.

Except… nothing happened.

At least not what was supposed to happen. That’s what I got for buying seven-league boots from a crazy old cat lady. Duds. And I traded my refilling teapot for them, too!

I put more oomph into my pounding feet.

Work. Work!

The earth vibrated. Heavy breaths snorted behind me. I swerved around—maybe I’d have a fighting chance if I could take it by surprise. It towered above me, eyes blazing, head lowered to puncture my flesh with its antlers, and I stumbled backward.

The beast disappeared.

What in the—?

Hoof beats caught my ears. There—the black horse came from across the field. My heart flipped, and I staggered back.

And it vanished. Again.

No, wait, there it was. Farther away, beyond the trees like the first time I had seen it.

Time…

Heart skipping, I glanced down at my supposedly-seven-league boots, and I laughed. They didn’t take a person seven leagues in one step. No, they took a person backward in time.

That crazy cat lady must have really wanted a refilling teapot.

I shot the oncoming beast a grin and took several steps back. Then it was gone.

Heavy breaths caught my attention. I reeled around to look, and my blood ran cold. Across the road stood the horse. And a… house? When the beast lowered its antlers and touched the house, the entire cottage imploded into a wisp of smoke, which swirled straight into its blazing, blue eyes. I swore the beast grew an inch or two.

I gasped, and its head shot up and eyes locked onto me.

Nuh-uh!

Three, four, five more steps backward, and my heartbeat increased with each step. Buildings appeared. Screams echoed. People raced away from the beast, but when it caught them with its antlers, they vanished into smoke, sucked into those unholy eyes.

No!

I backpedaled several times, willing the people back, and more came. Buildings cropped up with each step until the empty field around me transformed into an entire village of panicked citizens. That monster had inhaled a whole town mere minutes before I’d arrived!

A dizzying mix of anger, fear, and determination seized me—perfect ingredients for foolish bravery.

I took a few more steps back. A calmness washed over the village until a piercing scream broke the quiet. From over the hills to the east came the beast, now—or then—just the size of a regular horse, but still absurdly terrifying.

This time I ran forward.

A gleam of silver caught my peripheral vision—an axe leaning against one of the houses. I snatched it up, but then the horse was looming over me, eyes blazing. My scream didn’t make it past my throat before its antlers touched the front of my tunic. The single tap erupted a tornado inside my soul, sucking me toward those awful, yet beautiful, eyes. It took every drop of my will to slide back.

The whirlwind inside me calmed, and a grin crept across my face. It was short-lived, though, as the pounding of hooves brought me back to the present. Or was it the past?

The death horse charged again, head down, ready to strike once more. This time, my scream made it out of my throat, a roaring battle cry, and I swung the axe. Crack. Steel connected with bone. Both antlers fell with a thump to the ground. The horse screamed, a blood-curdling shriek that I was just sure would haunt my nightmares. It burst into pitch-black smoke and drifted away.

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back, but caught myself before taking a step. Now that would have been unfortunate. I tossed the axe down and carefully removed the boots just as cheers exploded from the village. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by celebrating strangers.

“You saved us!” An older gentleman with two children clinging to his legs pushed to the front of the crowd. “We would have been wiped from the Earth if that morquine had reached us!”

I breathed a nervous chuckle.

One of the man’s children looked up at me with a bucked-tooth grin. “Won’t you stay for a while?”

Murmurs of agreement washed over the crowd. I looked around at the friendly faces and fingered my sack, tempted. Nearly a decade ago I ran away from the orphanage and had been running ever since.

Perhaps it was time to stop moving forward or back, and just be still for a while.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Christine Smith lives in the deep south where days playing in the thick woods first sparked her love for writing about enchanted forests and magical lands. When she’s not writing or blogging, she’s working at a quaint bookshop—the perfect setting to fuel her creativity. Her passion for reading, J.R.R. Tolkien, and all things fairy tales led her to the world of writing YA speculative fiction, and she’s never looked back.

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