Page 15 of Tiger's Tale
Twisting her strange head, she waited for his reply, and added, “I did not lie when I said I believe you are a good boy. I will regret eating you. But I am hungry. If you wish to tell me of your sins, I will listen. Perhaps hearing of your sins will soothe my conscience. Or possibly it will ease your journey to the next life. Either way, I think it is a good thing.”
“You are right,” Nik said, after a moment. “I know it will change nothing. Still. If you can manage your hunger for a while, I will tell you of my sins and of the terrible monster I destroyed.”
“It must have been a terrible monster, indeed, if you have no fear of me.”
“Yes. He was. The terrifying monster was my father. And though I killed him, he still haunts me. But please, won’t you first make yourself comfortable? You don’t need to keep your human form for me. Let me get you a bit of bread and some tea to ease your hunger while I speak.”
The clusters of eyes blinked shrewdly once, then twice. There was a shudder, and then what was left of the grandmother he knew dissolved before him as her limbs grew and shifted, hardening and transforming into a nightmarish being that would disturb his dreams if he was ever lucky enough to have a dream again.
Where the old woman was slow, her body creaking and stiff, the new thing that replaced her was deadly silent other than a clicking of teeth and a scraping of bristles. It settled itself, not on the chair as it once did, but hanging from the ceiling with one long limb, its body draped across the door so there was no escape. The temperature in the room cooled, despite the crackling logs in the fireplace. Nik could feel the rime of bitter winter seeping through gaps of the poorly sealed window.
To distract himself while he boiled water for tea, he asked about her husband. “Before I begin, will you tell me—is your husband a being like you?”
“He is not,” she replied, in her rasping new voice. “I am of the swamp, and he is of the forest. My husband is a leshi.”
“Leshi?”
“Da. A wood spirit who casts no shadow as he walks. When he stands quietly, he is mistaken for a tree. Those who are lost follow his voice until he leads them to me. Then I capture and slowly drain them. It is our way. He doesn’t like trespassers, and I keep that green nest he calls a beard clean and rodent-free. Sometimes he’d let me hide beneath it, and the two of us would wait for a stranger to pass beneath his tall legs. That’s when I’d pounce and...” She licked her black lips hungrily. “Well, it’s been a while since we’ve enjoyed being together in our forest.”
“But I don’t understand,” Nik said. “If you are of the swamp and he of the forest, what are the two of you doing in Pyrs?”
The creature shifted uneasily and spat on the floor. The liquid that came from her mouth was black, and it smoked and hissed, bubbling until it ate a hole in the floor. “Bah! See what you made me do? Now I shall have to summon my husband to repair the wood before he brings me the next boy. Assuming he’ll find another one before I starve. We don’t get as many wanderers as we used to, thanks tohim. He takes all the nomads to build up his ranks. You’re the first one we’ve seen in a long time.”
“Him?”
“If you can call such a thing that.”
“Who are you referring to?”
“The one who took over our forest and cast us out. We don’t know his true name. He is known to us only as the Black Bies or the Death Draughtsman.”
Nik’s hands shook as he poured the tea into two mugs. Whoever this Death Draughtsman might be, he was powerful enough to cause this terrifying creature and her husband, who were holding him prisoner, to leave their home and risk living in a town inhabited by humans. He slid the bit of bread and the mug of tea to the edge of the small table near her outstretched leg, only then noticing she no longer had fingers, but a thick, blackened stump covered with what looked like leather on one side and hairs on the other. It was far too bulbous to use the mug handle.
Opening his mouth, Nik was about to offer to hold the mug for her when she touched her hairy limb to the side of the hot mug and a sticky substance enveloped the entire thing. When she brought it close to her face, a long, writhing proboscis uncoiled from her mouth and dipped into the cup. It quivered as she sipped and changed color from pink to nearly white. Nik gulped his tea wrong and choked, sputtering and coughing, imagining that long tongue piercing and lapping at his neck.
“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. “I suppose I’ll get on with my confession, then.” When there was no response from the creature, he forged ahead, regaling her with a tale that needed no exaggeration, painting his father in all the vivid monstrous colors he recalled, while minimizing his own reprehensible acts and instead rendering himself as the hero.
“In fact,” he added, after telling her of how he rode off with the blaze of the house burning brightly behind him, “I’d like to be able to do the same thing for you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.
“I mean, I’ve rid the world of my monster. Perhaps I can rid your forest of yours.”
There was a dark pause and then an even darker cackle followed. When she caught her breath, the creature said, “You? You think you’ll be able to do away with an evil as great as the Death Draughtsman? Nyet, you fatuous boy. He is no simple human for you to vanquish. It is folly to even consider it.”
She denied the possibility, and yet Nikolai could hear the tiniest tinge of longing in her voice. Furrowing his brow, Nik nodded in agreement. “I’m sure you’re right. It was foolish for me to hope. It’s just that I can’t help but desire a final wish to serve my ailing grandmother in more than a temporary sustaining of body. Don’t you see? If I could defeat this villain, there would be plenty for you. I would not have to worry about you starving after I am gone.”
Nik’s earnest expression and utter sangfroid were skills he had developed at a very young age, after living with his abusive father and a mother too weak to fight back. He was almost grateful now for the skills.Almost. That he could use them to negotiate for his life with a monster was incredible. Still, he wouldn’t thank either of his parents had they been there at that moment. No. What he had was his own. It was no thanks to them.
“Oh. Youarea sweet boy,” the creature said.
He might have been mistaken, but Nik thought in that moment that tears were leaking from her bulbous eyes.
“Let me summon my husband and see what he thinks of the idea.” This was followed by an otherworldly screech that sounded something like the hoot of an owl crossed with that of a giant bat. Nik wanted to cover his ears, but he didn’t think that would go over well. It wasn’t a few moments later that a resounding thump landed on the door, so thunderous that the walls shook. The spider woman shifted away from the entry, and it slammed open.
At first all Nik could see were long legs covered by enormous boots. Then the man, who bent over nearly halfway to enter the house, came inside and sat on the floor. His body was large, but not fat. He was thick, solid, built like a tree. The brown skin was wrinkled deeply on his face and arms, almost like tree bark, and his beard, which narrowed to a point at his waist, looked like moss.
“What is this, Escovina? Do you not find this one to your liking?”
