Giles' Keeper

“It was so lovely to see you Nesta, are you sure you can’t stay? It’s awfully late.” Mrs. Gingham frowns as she stands at the door, her red hair twisted in a knot at the nap of her neck. Her brown eyes glitter lovingly as she frets over me.

“No, I want to make sure Papa eats something for dinner, I don’t want him getting any sicker.” I offer with a smile as I hug her motherly form, kissing her cheek kindly. “Thank you for sharing this blanket, it really is lovely.” I stroke over the quilted fabric that’s been crafted with love and care.

“Always deary, you know you’re my favorite.” She teases with a wink and an extra long squeeze. “Do you know when your Papa will be in town?”

“He didn’t say, just that it’d be in the coming days. Are you due for a trip as well?” Mrs. Gingham smiles and nods.

“Yes, I need to get back, Mrs. Walters is about due with her third baby, they are hoping for a girl.” She laughs and shrugs her shoulders. “Those two beautiful boys have about run her and that husband of hers right off their feet. Such a sweet family.” She hums with a wistful smile.

“Mrs. Walters is so nice, so is Mr. Walters.” I agree as the wind picks ups and that strange whisper sounds in my ear.

‘Please, my soul, come home.’ This time it’s pained whisper, the voice sounds so tired. Why is the wind talking to me? I look around unsure.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? It’s no trouble at all.” She tries again this time in front of the door.

“I’m sure, thank you again for having me inside. It’s been so lovely catching up, but I really have to go home.” I smile.

“Well in that case, have your father swing by when he goes into town, I’d rather not walk that long distance if I can help it. No need to wear my boots more.” She laughs like a school girl.

“Of course, he’d love to take you into town, it’s not far out of his way.”

“Be careful Nesta, I don’t want you finding trouble and getting hurt. No need for another case of Mr. Grimes.” She points her finger towards me, eyebrows pinched with unease as she glances towards the window.

‘My soul is always safe at home.’ The voice growls, the sound low filled with promise. A shiver dances down my spine as the wind picks up, whistling through the open boards of the cabin. Have I lost my mind? Or is ‘he’ speaking?

“You and Papa fret too much, I have my hatchet- I can defend myself just fine.” I feel the need to remind exasperatedly. I am not a child anymore.

“Deary, it’s what we do best. You’re a lovely girl and soon you’ll have a family and understand the worry in our minds.” She reminds with tenderly before she winks. “If I recall Jonah Darrow has become quite infatuated with you, it’s only a matter of time before he asks for your hand.” She teases, the wind that had died down whistles sharply before a sudden burst of light cracks down from the heavens to the earth. A protest. What the… when did the?

Clouds appear thick in the skies and I sigh, shaking her words from me. “I’m not so sure Mrs. Gingham, I need to go now, I don’t like how the skies are looking.” I frown and step towards the door, her hand lands on my arm.

“I think you should stay the night, a storm is rolling in thick.” She frets.

‘Come back to me my soul, I need you.’ The voice whispers quietly, the desperation in it’s voice makes me want to call out, reach towards the mythical sound to soothe it. What is it? Who’s talking?

“No, I’ll be fine- I really have to go, thank you though.” I pull the door open, my heart aches at the desperation in the mystical voice. The cavern, I must go back. The decision feels right, lifts my heart and fills it with relief.

“I wish you’d stay.” She settles with a heavy sigh, the wind gentles as it drifts across my skin, teasing my skirts in a scandalous dance.

“I’m sorry, but I must go. Be well!” I wave, and turn not allowing her to stop me again. I need to see that cavern once more. Something calls to me there… I want to know more.

“Safe travels Nesta, be careful!” I make the journey through the eerie trail back to the road into town before I head for my families farm. The woods release soft cries of the creatures it keeps safe.

‘My soul… please… I need you home.’ The voice whispers, the wind flows in a gentle caress past my ear, enticing my heart and mind. The well traveled road familiar under my feet as I find myself staring off in the direction of the cavern. What is so special of that place? An owl calls in the night, the screech sends mice scattering in fear.

I watch the majestic bird stretch it’s wings wide, circling above, it’s yellow eyes glow as they lock on me. What on earth…? The owl swoops low in front of me, eyes bore into mine the eerie stare intelligent as it rustles the air past me. It’s feathers look as soft as butter, the detail breathtaking, I’ve never seen one so close. Why is it so close?

‘Come to me my soul.’ The voice whispers, a low growl lurks in the depths of the wind. The sound drifts past my ears as if it’s a long lost echo. I need to go to the cavern. A calm settles in my belly at the decision, the storm that threatened to erupt in my belly quelled for the time. I fist my skirts in my palm and pick up my pace towards the farm, confused with the lack of light.

Our cabin’s fire barely flickers, the darkened interior makes me pause at our farm. Where’s Papa? Is he sleeping? It’s not late in the night, he’s always been a night owl, up till the early hours of the morn. I approach the cabin and listen for the squeaking of his rocker or even his snore. No… Why isn’t he here? I frown, checking the barn for Mable only to come up empty.

He said he wasn’t going into town for a few days. Why would he travel at night? ’Come home my soul.’ The voice sings on the wind, my eyes find the cavern’s direction and I frown.

“I am home.” I mutter, confused and worried now.

‘Home is not a house.’ The voice counters, the owl sits perched on a crooked fence post, staring into the barn, directly at me. I can talk to it?

“Where are you? Who are you?” I question, watching as the owl’s head tilts, swiveling for a moment. Finally the creature takes off into the air, it’s wings a force to be reckoned with.

‘You know where I lay my soul.’ The voice sings, the softness of the deep tone an enthrallment too my heart. ‘Hide before Edgar returns my soul, he’s not in a good mood.’ The voice warns suddenly, my heart jumps to my throat as I watch the owl fly away as if it hadn’t been watching me. Edgar? Papa went to see him? Why? I frown, moving towards the tool shed, I listen to the undisturbed song of nature.

“How do you know so much?” The wind shifts away from me, carrying my voice with it. Is he… doing that? Faintly I can hear Mable’s hooves galloping along the dirt path, a soft thud, harsh snorts of breath, ragged from the harsh ride.

‘Come to me my soul and you shall be granted wisdom.’ It teases, laughter on the wind meets my ear in a seductive chant. Papa visited him… why?

“Atta girl.” Mable coughs, the sound stark in the quiet night as Papa dismounts. “Easy girly, I know I pushed ya.” He mutters quietly, patting her neck, he himself struggles to catch his breath in the dry cold air of night. Her hooves sound on the hard dirt of the aisle way, I listen as Papa talks to her, her tack thumps to the ground a sound I can recognize in my dreams. I don’t know how long it takes for Papa to get her situated and buttoned up in her stall before he heads to the cabin.

“Why do you speak in riddles?” I ask the wind, my mind focused on the cavern and the mystery it holds and keeps safe. Starting the journey towards the wood, I risk a glance at the cabin, the light flickers back to life, slow to grow in intensity.

‘Riddles? Do you try to decipher a code where there is none?’ The voice asks amused, the laughter clear in the wind, the sound familiar. Have I heard it before?

“You speak nonsense, is that the wind you use? Or just your own confusion.” I quip. Yet your the mad woman talking to the wind and envisioning an owl that stalks you. I feel the need to snort at my own craziness. I’m clearly being talked to now- I’m not mad I know that much.

‘Confusion! Ha- my soul you speak of a tease. Fear not, I’m not a fool.’ The laughter is back, more real and sound in it’s depth. His chuckle sounds as if it’s in my own head.

“Then who are you?” I counter as I start towards the cavern, the depth and physicality of the voice deepens. The closer I get the more real it sounds.

‘I am your soul as you are my own my sweet.’

“That’s not an answer.” Why can’t he be upfront with his words?

‘Or is it just not the answer you craved?’ He’s amused as he speaks again, the wind tickles my cheeks, the faint scent of smoke teases my nostrils. I scan the landscape with a frown, unsure if there’s a fire. Could I be smelling the fire from home?

“It makes no sense, I am no ones soul.” I argue the voice with a frown, I’m met with laughter as the owl returns, his wings stretched wide they brush my cheek barely, amazed by close encounter, I stare. It flies down the path languidly, circling back watching me.

‘Have you ever felt unwhole?’ The voice asks strangely. My frown deepens and the wind whistles softly, a finger like caress touches my cheek as the owl nears, it’s wing so close to touch. ‘Don’t frown my soul, your smile lights up the night.’ I blush and look around unsure how this man can see me.

“How can you see me? Why can’t I see you?” I look around as the owl hoots, landing above the mouth of the cavern, I stop watching as a rolling cloud drifts slowly from the inky darkness. Is he… what is making the cloud? Or friends with the creature? The question makes me frown, afraid to move closer. Will he eat me?

‘My soul… please don’t be afraid, I could never do you harm. You are my better half- my soul.’ A pain filled whimper escapes the cave, the voice drifts along the air, one with nature.

“Who are you?” I muster the courage to ask, less confident now than I had been. What if I say something wrong?

‘I am yours as you are mine my sweet… Nesta.’ A chill runs down my spine as my belly clenches and warm, my heart flutters. Never has my name sounded so seductive. The silky way my name was spoken makes me step, the need to know more impossible to refute.

“It seems unfair that you know my name and I don’t know yours.” A breathy chuckle fills the air, the wind shifts towards the cave, a rumbling growl sounds and I hold my breath.

‘Giles Wingrove my sweet, a pleasure to meet you formally.’ Intelligence seeps from his voice. I must look like an undignified fool compared to him. I look away, shy of my comparison as I near the rocks I had hunted on prior.