Page 27 of The Witch & the Tiger

“Uh,” Kati said, raising her hand rather awkwardly. “What exactly is the aim? Is it to find that missing person?”

“Partially. We hope to find Yannick or his body and break the enchantment on Martin by completing it. And we hope to find out whether the things that have been happening lately are related to this or not.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Marlon said, folding his arms. “I can rewind time a couple of minutes one time or around twenty seconds back twice. We’ll see what happens, I suppose.”

“What I wouldn’t give for your powers, boy,” Umber said, shaking his head. “Some people have all the luck.”

With terse nods, the group set off together. It was a rather eccentric bunch, a mishmash of powers, students, and professors on what may or may not prove to be a deadly school trip.

They entered the woods, and Professor Umber stepped forward to invoke the name of the moon and the summoning spell, Brumous Draíochta.

“I looked this up, by the way,” Z’Hana whispered as they waited for the spell to take effect. “The lingual families of this spell don’t match. But it doesn’t really matter whether they match or not, so long as the intent is clear and the day is of significance.”

“Wait,” Martin asked, “does that mean I could say something like omelet du fromage on a full moon or something, and I’d end up with something anyway?”

“Uh…” Z’Hana frowned. “Sure, why not? You can try it on the next full moon and see if anything happens.”

Willow giggled at that, though the giggle died out when she saw mist creeping toward them as if lured by a powerful magnet.

“Why is it called a Beaver Moon?” Kati asked.

“It’s simple. Around this time, traditionally,” Z’Hana replied, “many animals would prepare for winter. They collect resources and prepare to hibernate. The beaver is one such animal. They repair and build up their homes, dams, and lodges and stock up on food. They’re not the only ones, of course – but all the moon names are related to animal, plant, or seasonal changes.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

They watched as the mist plumed around them, reaching through the woods, and tasted the faint tang of salt in the breeze. Martin reached out to squeeze Willow’s palm briefly, though she felt incredible tension in his grip. When she examined him properly, it looked as if he was trying to resist something invisible. The enchantment? She squeezed back harder.

The grip became painful, but she didn’t let go until he took a deep breath, nodded, and his hold lessened.

“You’ll be all right,” she whispered, hoping that it would be true.

They waited in silence for a little longer before Z’Hana beckoned them forward. With a gulp, she followed the professor, and they walked into the fog. It grew thicker and thicker until she could barely see in front of her, and then the trees thinned out, the ground became hard, and the world around them changed.

Ahead, instead of woodland, a sheer cliff loomed. It sliced off into a sea that seemed calm. The stretch of beach they saw glistened from the tide that had lapped over it perhaps some hours earlier. The wind beat at them, carrying the salty tang of the sea, and the place looked completely unconnected to where they’d been before. It just seemed to be at the edge of the woods, which faded into a heavy fog that hid it – and before them, a rough-hewn path led down.

“This is the same thing you saw before?” Professor Umber asked, nudging Martin, who had grown quiet and was gazing ahead into nothingness. He appeared dazed, and it took another nudge from the professor and a repeat of the question before he responded.

“Uh, yeah. This… this is the place.”

“And how are you feeling?” Professor Z’Hana asked, examining him with her dark eyes. “I suspect the enchantment is tugging at you now.”

“It… it is,” he confirmed. “We have… we have to go down the steps. They lead to the cave. The cave is where it all happened.”

All of them looked at one another before nodding and marching down the steps.

Without any sort of railing, the path felt precarious, as if all it would take was one false step, and they’d go hurtling toward the beach and rocks below. It took a nerve-wracking few minutes to make it to the bottom, and Z’Hana pointed at the discoloration in the rock strata.

“The sea reaches at least this depth on a regular basis. It covers the last few steps, but we should be able to wade up.” Then, her eyes drifted to a small sign that showed the tidal times. “I wouldn’t trust this sign. It might say high tide is in six hours, but this is a fae realm. Rules don’t work the same here.”

Willow watched Martin, who blinked a few times and swallowed hard.

“We…” He paused. “The tide definitely came in faster than we thought. We really believed we had a lot more time. But we didn’t.”

Willow wondered if the damp tidal line on the rock might be a deception as well. There was no way of telling what was what here, and it bothered her. The whole place had an eerie, unnatural feel about it, even though it looked like a natural seascape.

The water had a greenish tint to it – not like the shimmering blue of the Pacific or the Caribbean, with that luscious green fading into blue. This was more of a sickly green.

There was also the faint scent of something pungent, almost like decay, but Willow couldn’t quite identify it.

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