Page 1 of Can't Get No Satyrfaction

CHAPTER 1

Sylvie hummed happily as she followed what she’d optimistically decided was a trail deeper into the Elderwood, eagerly studying her surroundings. When she stumbled upon a small creek curving between the roots of the ancient trees, the water sparkling clear and dark as it tumbled over the multicolored rocks that made up the stream bed, she gave a delighted cry and quickly shrugged off her backpack.

Raising her camera, she started with a long range shot which highlighted just enough of the almost hidden stream to give it a magical quality. A closer picture focused on the sun shining down through the peat-colored water and making the colored stones gleam like small jewels.

Then she got down on her knees for some close-up shots. A tiny fern just beginning to unfurl its fronds. A plant she didn’t recognize on the shady side of the bank, the leaves glowing a soft luminescent lavender. A dragonfly hovering just above the surface of the water. Everywhere she looked she saw more scenes to capture with her camera.

When she finally sat back on her heels and scrolled through the resulting photographs, she beamed down at her camera. She was going to prove toWild HavenMagazine that her winning entry in the amateur photography contest had not been a fluke—that she could take nature photographs worthy of their publication.

The prize for the contest had been one week’s unrestricted access to the Elderwood—the huge, mysterious forest that stretched from the swamplands near the coast to the base of the mountains in the north. It had been designated as a sanctuary both for wildlife and for the Others—the creatures of myth and legend who shared the world with humans.

Although many of the Others chose to live amongst humans, they tended to prefer small towns and rural areas. A few of them were completely opposed to residing in any human-dominated area and they had chosen to live in sanctuaries such as the Elderwood.

She’d frequently visited the small areas along the boundary that were open to everyone, looking longingly into the interior. In fact, it was her photograph of a morning glory vine curling up the trunk of one of the trees that formed the boundary that had won the contest. The awards committee loved the contrast between the bright purple flowers and the dark mysterious woods, and the dew drops that lingered on the heart-shaped leaves.

If only Mama could see me now.

Her mother had been a talented amateur photographer who had taken her on hikes to “chase the light” from the time she was a little girl. Those memories hung like shadows around her—bittersweet and tinged with loss. Her mother was gone, but she’d left behind a legacy of love for both photography and thenatural world. She’d once had grand intentions of following in her mother’s footsteps, specifically wanting to focus on nature photography, but she’d gone to live with her father after her mother died and he had dismissed the idea as completely impractical.

Instead, she’d pursued the more practical education he had insisted on. He’d been satisfied with her business degree, but less pleased that she had gotten a job in event planning. He would have preferred that she work in a more traditional office, but she was happy with her job. She loved helping people achieve their visions for their special occasions.

The other benefit to her job was that they managed a lot of weddings and she’d struck up friendships with many of the wedding photographers they used. They had supported and encouraged her desire to expand her skills. Even her boss had been encouraging and readily agreed to give her the time off to enjoy her prize. Fortunately, they were well into the hot summer months and business was slow.

Satisfied with the pictures she’d just taken of the creek as well as the hundreds of others she’d taken so far that morning, she peered up through the thick canopy and noted that the sun was almost directly overhead. Time to take a break. One of the moss covered roots extending down to the edge of the stream looked like a perfect seat, and she sat down with a happy sigh. Only half a day in and this trip was already proving to be exactly what she’d dreamed of for so long.

Opening up her backpack, she considered her options. She had a number of freeze dried meals but they needed to be mixed with boiling water. She also had protein bars for quick energy and fast breakfasts and a huge container of trail mix. Last but not least, she had a Ziplock bag containing an assortment of candy.Deciding she deserved a treat after the morning’s walk, she dug into the bag and pulled out a Dark Chocolate Milky Way. The flood of chocolatey goodness didn’t last long enough but she told herself that the chocolate wasn’t going to last long in the heat anyway and indulged in a second one.

She sat there for a while, leaning back against the trunk and listening to the cheerful burble of the pretty little creek. While it was tempting to linger even longer in the cool shade, she wanted to explore more of the forest before making camp for the night. Her goal was to make her way the entire length of the Elderwood over the course of the week. She started to stand up, then almost fell flat on her face when her feet didn’t move. Collapsing back on the root, she looked down to discover that a thin purple vine had wound itself around her cute pink hiking boots in a complicated looking knot. She tried to pull her feet free, but the more she pulled against the vines, the more they tightened. Her hiking boots took some of the strain, but the restraint was becoming increasingly painful.

Damn.She sat back with a disgusted huff. Why hadn’t she noticed the vines? And more importantly, what was she going to do now?

She’d brought a cell phone in case of emergency and she managed to dig it out of her pack without moving her feet too much, then stared at the screen in dismay. No signal. She tried a dozen times anyway, holding the phone as far above her as she could but it didn’t make any difference. Even leaning out towards the creek didn’t help, and the vines gave a warning squeeze when she inadvertently pulled against them.

Not exactly an ideal situation, she thought ruefully. But surely someone would come along. Perhaps not another human, since they were rarely allowed to visit the depths of the Elderwood,but hopefully the Others who lived here weren’t as prejudiced against humans as some humans were prejudiced towards them.

In addition, her boss had already texted her early that morning and, knowing Carol, it wouldn’t surprise her if she tried again. How many texts would have to go unanswered before Carol was worried enough to notify someone?

Someone was also bound to notice eventually that her car hadn’t moved, but how long would that take? She sighed. If only she’d been staying in that charming little bed and breakfast that had caught her eye. It seemed like the sort of place where the owner would have talked to her over breakfast and asked her about her plans. Instead she’d chosen the much cheaper anonymity of a motel off the highway, and she hadn’t talked to anyone.

A bush on the other side of the creek rustled and she froze, her all too vivid imagination conjuring up images of wolves and bears, as well as the more exotic creatures that lurked in the Elderwood. A huge, dark-furred head emerged from the bushes, luminescent blue eyes focused on her face. The head was dog-shaped, although much larger than that of any dog she’d ever seen, lips drawn back to reveal gleaming white fangs.

“G-good dog,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

The head tilted, and then the animal stalked slowly out of the bushes. It was a dog, and yet also not a dog, larger than even the biggest mastiff and covered with short, black fur with a slight bluish tinge. She blinked as it came closer, sure that her eyes were playing tricks on her. Not one massive head but three.

A Cerberus. She tried frantically to recall what she’d heard about them as it padded towards her, jumping the creek in one easy bound, but her mind had gone blank. He stopped no morethan a foot in front of her, and the head—all three heads—tilted with identical, curious expressions as a long thick tail whipped behind him.

“G-good boy,” she said again, and the tail lashed. Maybe he was wagging his tail, she thought optimistically. “Are you a good boy?”

Another lash of that tail, and the center head dropped towards her. Praying that she wasn’t going to lose her fingers, she very cautiously reached out, letting him sniff her hand. He nudged her hand impatiently, and she ran her hand along the deep soft fur of his cheek until she found the place behind his ears that Bowser, her neighbor’s dog, loved to have scratched.

Of course, Bowser weighed ten pounds on a good day, but to her relief, the huge, three-headed dog responded exactly the same way, his mouth falling open and a blissful expression crossing his face as she scratched vigorously behind his ears.

“Aw, you’re just a big old softy, aren’t you?”

Those luminescent blue eyes met hers, in what was so clearly intended as an innocent expression, that she laughed, and brought her other hand up as well, scratching behind both ears as the huge dog dropped his heads into her lap.

“What’s your name?” She checked but he wasn’t wearing a collar—or three collars, she thought with a smile. “I have to call you something. How about Fluffy?”

---