Spirit by Shauna Granger Page A

clear
concoction, and between the wisps of steam, I saw something moving on the
surface of liquid. It took my eyes a minute to adjust, but then I could see a
scene on the surface. A man ran through a small village, sweat streaming down a
face twisted in fear. He lost his hat when he glanced over his shoulder to
check behind him. Whatever he saw made him scream and stumble to the ground.
    The
crowd around the cauldron cheered again; some laughed. Then I heard the hooves clattering
down the street. I watched as the hunters on horseback and the giant dogs ran
the man down. His screams were lost in the cheers of the crowd around me and
the whinnying of horses and braying of dogs. The hunting party didn’t stop as I
had expected them to. They just raced on, and when they were out of the scene
in the cauldron, the dark street was empty, just lonely buildings and a
deserted cobblestone street. The Hunt had caught the man.
    The
crowd began to disperse quickly, each returning to their place of rest. A tiny
woman, wizened and bent with a wide flat face, touched the surface of the water
with her frail fingers, making it shimmer and shake until the water was clear. That
was it, a window into my world, my chance to see my friends. I felt hope
blossom inside of me for the first time since leaving Anthony’s apartment. I
blinked back tears as I watched the old woman. She carefully kept her large, bulbous
eyes from me. I wasn’t sure if she was afraid of me or if she was just trying
to ignore me.
    “Are
you a seer?” I broke the silence. She hesitated, her hand in midair as she
reached for something with which to tend the coals of her fire. I thought she was
going to answer me, but after a moment, she snatched up the stick she had been
reaching for and started stirring the coals around the caldron. She walked in a
circle around the fire until she was close to me. She stopped then and went
back the way she came.
    My
bubble of hope burst, and I was just about to give up and walk away when she
said, “Thems no visions.” She stabbed the coals aggressively, making clouds of
bright orange embers float in the air. “Visions are for the future; that
weren’t no future.”
    “What
do you mean? That was happening right now?” I asked. She sniffed loudly and
made a noncommittal noise that I took for a “yes.” The old woman dropped her
stick and picked up a handful of herbs from a bundle on the ground and cast
them into the flames. The herbs made the smoke turn blue and scented the air
with something sharp and unfamiliar. I wrinkled my nose and tried not to
sneeze.
    “If
you’re not a seer, then are you a water elemental?” I asked. Again she didn’t
answer me, just continued to tend to her fire. When she didn’t offer any
response, I decided not to press her, afraid I’d ruin any chance of seeing my
friends. I sat and tried to enjoy the fire’s warmth. She shot me an angry look,
holding my gaze for a few minutes before she sniffed again and walked off. I
was a little surprised when she returned a few moments later, a fish skewered
on a stick in her hand. She sat on the far side of the cauldron so looking at
her was awkward and began roasting the fish over the fire. For one fleeting
moment, I thought about Steven roasting a hot dog over a campfire while we sat
on the beach, Jodi and I eating melted marshmallows. A knot formed in my chest,
making it hard to breathe.
    “Maybe
a water sprite?” I asked suddenly, trying to get my mind off those beautiful
and painful memories. She humphed at
me and sniffed again, and I guessed that I had it right. I hadn’t ever met a
water sprite before, and to be honest, I expected something prettier and
younger. Once the scales of the fish were charred, she pulled it from the fire.
I knew it hadn’t been cooking long enough to roast the flesh inside.
    She
opened her mouth to show pointy little white teeth before she tore into her
dinner. The fish made a squelching noise, and I couldn’t help but