“She should’ve at least brought Susan,” I heard Earl murmuring. “It’s a fast little cut-and-thrust sword, great for sneak attacks. Get in, slash ’em up, get out.”
“What’s a small sword like that going to do against a basajaun?” Niamh asked. “It’d be like giving ’im a paper cut.”
“Paper cuts sting. That’d make the brute at least pause before backhanding her across the clearing. You can get a good sprint in during a pause.”
“Shh,” I said. They didn’t need to give the creature any ideas.
I edged out further into the clearing, and I wasn’t going to lie: having Susan along wouldn’t have been a bad thing, if only because it would have bolstered my courage.
Sitting on top of the highest rock sat a creature whose hair draped his body in dusky brown waves. He rose when he saw me, and slowly worked his way down to ground level, standing on the same plane as me. I had to tilt my head up to see his face and enormous nose, even from the distance across the clearing. He had to be nine feet tall, with ridiculously huge arms hanging at the sides of his massive upper body.
“This is, quite possibly, her worst idea yet,” Mr. Tom muttered from the trees.
I had to agree with him. The big guy looked a lot bigger when not viewed from above.
“Hi,” I said, and gave a stupid little wave. All of my cool confidence had gone out the window in the face of this massive creature. Now, standing face to stomach with him, not even remotely on a level playing field, with a bunch of smooshed flowers instead of a sword, I was definitely having second thoughts.
“How do you hide from hikers?” I blurted. I couldn’t help it.
“Oh.” He tilted his head at me, his wide nose shadowing his mouth. “How nice of you to ask. It is an art, really.” He looked behind him, found a flat part on one of the rocks, and sat. He crossed an ankle over his knee and put out his arms for inspection. “My coloring does help me blend in, but don’t fool yourself—it’s not easy being mistaken for a tree. I have no branches.”
“Is he not very bright, or does he think we’re not very bright?” Mr. Tom whispered much too loudly.
“The trick is standing very still. Also knowing where the hikers will pass you.” The creature motioned in front of him like he was peering through the trees.
“If I had to guess, I’d say he is the one who is not very bright,” Mr. Tom whispered, still much too loudly. “There are actual hiking trails, after all. It isn’t rocket science—”
“Would ye stop, you donkey?” Niamh berated.
“But it wouldn’t be enjoyable to go unnoticed. I wait for them to pass, and when I’m in their peripheral vision, I move just a little. Hardly noticeable. If I don’t catch their eye, I move again, a bit more. Sometimes I am not obvious enough, and I lose them. This happened a lot in my youth. Or I move enough that they think I’m a bear, and there is great confusion and much screaming. But I have gotten pretty good at it, like I said. It is an art. I move a little, they glance over, and catch me looking at them. I stay there for the right amount of time—not too little, not too much. Enough for them to realize that I am an intelligent creature—”
“That’s debatable,” Mr. Tom muttered.
“—and then I move away, into the trees, out of sight.” He slid his ankle off his leg and planted his feet on the ground, his body shaking with laughter. “You should see their faces!” He laughed harder, tilting his head up to the sky. “It is fantastic. They search frantically for their phones to get a picture. Or they freeze, as though they think I might not see them if they do not move. Or they take off running like the devil himself is chasing them! You just never know!”
His laughter shook his whole body, and I felt a smile crack my face.
“How is it I’ve never heard of you before now?” I asked, forgetting myself for a moment. With this new life, I’d learned to take the bumps of crazy and roll with it.
He stretched his arms wide. “Because I am the best at this! I am a myth! This is what diligent practice will get you. Mastery.”
I couldn’t make out what Mr. Tom had muttered this time.
“Well, that’s pretty crazy, and I’d love to see it in action someday—”
“An audience. I’ve never had an audience, although I did have an apprentice or two in my day. Good kids. Fairly light on thinking ability, if you know what I mean.”
“They must be as dumb as posts if he’s saying that,” Mr. Tom murmured.