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.
“Shut it,” Niamh hissed.
I shrugged. “Up to you. Listen, what I wanted to talk—”
“I can see how that might be fun. An audience. You would have to be very quiet. And very still.”
I stared at him with my eyebrows up and my mouth open, really wanting to move the conversation along but not wanting to push him. Given he’d chased two alphas off this mountain, there were clearly hidden depths to him that I didn’t want to see.
“If you dressed in brown, or maybe brown and green, you would blend in better.” He eyed my outfit. “The white sweats would only do for heavy snowfall.”
“Listen, Mr.…” I paused so he could give me his name.
“You would not want to blend in too much, though, or they wouldn’t see you at the end,” he said, clearly in need of dynamite to get him off this train of thought. “Although you are just a human woman. Maybe you’d get a better fright if you changed into that purplish sort of rainbow monster from the other day.”
“I would like to trade,” I said quickly, holding up the flowers. Granted, I’d already promised the Ivy House flowers, but hopefully he couldn’t call me on a technicality. Besides,