Suspended in midair by one leg, two thoughts occurred simultaneously.
First, the terrifying creature was obviously a leshen. Back at the station, there’s a dog-eared copy of Mysteries of the Unexplained.. Despite the somewhat sensational cover—which features a pyramid and disembodied, floating eye—it was the most authoritative source of supernatural information I could find. There was an entire chapter on leshens. In European folklore, they were gods of the forest. This one, though, looked different: instead of spruce and beech, its limbs were wrought from the twisted branches of coastal tea-trees. It also radiated ancient strength and power, something you typically didn’t get from shitty illustrations.
As for the second thought: well…let’s just say this wasn’t the first time I’d traversed these waters without a paddle.
“This won’t go down well with the magistrate,” I said.
The leshen made a slow, creaking sound of disapproval.
“I’ve got a few questions.” The creature snorted, its vice-like grip went slack and I crashed to the forest floor.
“Smart arse,” it said in an ancient, booming voice.
Still naked, Darryl stood by its side, shivering as he looked up at the snowflakes. “This only happens when he’s really pissed off.”
“You’re mates, then?”
“Yeah. We’ve been travelling together for…what?”
The giant creature seemed to think for a moment, then held up four twig-like fingers.
“So you weirdos stopped off in Holbrooke to…what, hassle an old woman?”
“She’s not an old woman,” Darryl said. “She’s something much, much wors—”
Somewhere behind us there was a throaty laugh as a hunched figure with a walking stick pushed her way through the trees. The leshen took a step back in surprise, something resembling fear on its ancient face.
Staring in disbelief, I watched the surrounding bush start to wither and die, vibrant foliage turning brown and grey. Somewhere behind me, the leshen creaked and crashed to the ground. Lightheaded, I dropped to my knees and steadied myself with one hand to stop falling. In my periphery, I dimly noted that Darryl had collapsed too. As the foliage withered, the old woman with the walking stick stood a little straighter, her stride became a little more fluid, wrinkles disappearing and colour returning to that grey face.
“That’s better,” she chuckled looking down at the leshen’s motionless form, “I’ve been looking for you for so very long.”
Feeling life ebb away, I reached for my service belt and unclipped the baton. The cool metal thrummed with energy as my hand closed around its hilt. I summoned every last atom of strength, twisted and lashed out. Noticing the sudden movement, the old woman turned slightly and the baton collided with her face. There was a sudden, savage crunch as it pulped her nose in a searing, burst of energy…