Hunted
by Melissa MeadApril 8, 2021
"My loyal huntsman," the Queen purred.
The Huntsman began to sweat beneath his uniform. He stood straight, then bowed low. "Your Majesty."
"So skilled at your trade. You've brought me everything I've asked for. Even the heart of my stepdaughter."
The Huntsman knelt to the cold flagstones and lowered his eyes. Let the Queen see it as submission and loyalty. In truth, his legs were buckling, and he dared not let her see his face.
"So tender, it was. Like the very finest pork."
"I'm grateful to have pleased Your Majesty," the huntsman murmured.
"Are you?" The Queen's voice sharpened. "Then how do you explain this?"
She swept aside the silken covering of the mirror beside the throne. He looked. There was the dear little princess, scattering birdseed in front of a dainty cottage. Despite himself, he sighed with relief, and quickly looked away.
"My loyal huntsman," said the Queen, and now her voice was a growl. "I think now that you are neither loyal nor a huntsman. In fact, I think you are not even a man. Look in the mirror."
He kept his eyes down.
"Look in the mirror!"
He looked and saw, not a flushed, frightened man, but the face of a stag, crowned with finer antlers even than those on the head over the Queen's fireplace.
"I'm not...!" he shouted in terror, but a stag's bellow came out.
He looked down at himself, and thought he saw his own human body, fully clothed- but the mirror showed a wild-eyed stag. He couldn't straighten up. He tried to take a step and fell forward on hands and knees, hearing the clatter of hooves on flagstone. The scent of the hearthfire quickened his terror.
"So easy to mistake human and animal for one another." The Queen smiled a slow, predatory smile. Then she gathered up her skirts and screamed.
Armed guards poured into the throne room, pikes set. He knew these men, knew their wives and children. His protesting cry came out as a bleat.
They charged. He ran, one flailing hoof barely missing the mirror. A bench splintered as he charged through it. He leapt over a table. His antlers snagged in a chandelier, raining shattered crystal.
Then he was out the door, running for his life, hearing the Queen's voice whisper in his ear:
"And remember, it's hunting season."
About Melissa Mead
More from Melissa Mead
Imaginary Friends
****Editor's Note: Trigger warning. Loss of a child.**** "Mom! Mom! Can Icya stay for dinner?" Gina turned around slowly. Ryan stood in the doorway, tousled and muddy, his four-year-old face aglow. There was no one on the porch with him. "Um, what was your friend's name again,…
The Last Passenger
The skiff had almost forgotten its purpose. Crossing the Styx, back and forth. Or was it the Acheron? The skiff wasn't sure it mattered. The River of Pain and the River of Woe had no effect on wood that could feel neither. Once, souls had thronged the river's banks, leaving…
Time Machines
The man burst into Jayon's antique store the instant it opened. Actually, he ran into the door first, because he was too impatient to wait for the scanner to register his presence. He plunged toward the counter, waving an advertising holosheet at Jayon. "Is this ad true?" he…
Empy
Mission Control programmed the Pot itself. Feed The Travelers, it directed. Do Not Burn The Food. And so the Pot cooks to the best of its programming. It sits in the main dome, in a place of honor by the generator pole, turning ration concentrates into meals. They haven't been…
Moonskin
The Wardens claim it doesn't matter what Moonskin you wear, or which phase you're born under. They lie. A Full-phase Lion is respected even in their human skin. A descendant of the founding Lupines can eat someone's pet poodle while in wolfskin, and the Wardens will swear that a…
Destiny
"No sign of the Duke's men," said the young man. "I think we lost them back at the stream. And this valley is so secluded I don't think they'll find it. Even if they come back with dogs, I can turn them away. I got to know the pack pretty well while working in the stables." "And…