To Free the Fox

By Marquel Sherry

Alitha Helgren a college student, whose life so far has been rocky, but ordinary, goes to spend the summer at her deceased grandmother's cottage. While there she begins to experience some unusual things. Alitha decides to investigate. What she finds she never could have expected. Alitha is lead by a wild fox to a cave deep in the forests neighboring the cottage. What do you do when you release a trickster god and all the chaos that comes with him? If you play with fire, you get burned.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312110205

Book preview

To Free the Fox

To Free the Fox

By Marquel Sherry

Editor: Megan McIntyre

Special Thanks to: Lonnie Ramirez

Published by: Marquel Sherry

2014

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, events, or places have been used by the author fictitiously and any similarities found in real events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Marquel Sherry

ISBN: 978-1-312-11020-5

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce portions or the entirety of this book.

Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, educators, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the above listed address.

U.S. trade bookstores and wholesalers: Please contact Marquel Sherry Email: [e-mail], or at www.tofreethefox.com.

Dedication

For my family, friends, Narcissa and Lucy, two cats who constantly tried to keep my keyboard warm at the most inconvenient times, and Megan and Lonnie, who had to put up with my whining.

Chapter 1 

The Tale Begins

Night crouched low over a small village. Thatch huts, and occasionally a log-made structure could be seen dotting the frozen landscape.

Viking country.

At this point in history, though, the vikings are gone. Christians are rapidly claiming these frostbitten lands.

In this village like so many others a secret lies waiting for someone to discover it. A young woman, not a child but not quite married yet, will find herself tangled in this great battle between the old gods and the new.

Alasha Helgren liked to walk off into the woods alone when she was sent to gather firewood. She would crunch through the trees imagining a different world, one she'd only heard stories about. The gods: those pagan, heathen figures, that the church preached as devils in disguise. Those ghosts of a dead era spoke to Alasha's imagination. She would listen as the old men and women of the village would recite stories about Thor's defeat of the world serpent, the chaining of Fenrir, and the one Alasha liked the best: Loki's punishment. She reveled in its cruelty and wished to one day find the fallen god and set him free on the world.

Alasha liked to watch things burn.

She once set a pile of hay on fire in the family's barn; her father had caught and beat her senseless. Alasha wasn't caught setting things on fire again for a long while. Instead of setting fires in barns, she'd go out into the woods sometimes, always alone, and then she'd indulge her desire. Alasha would gather small sticks and twigs and she'd garnish the pyre with dry pine cones and flowers. Sometimes she would feel someone watching her. This would have made her nervous if it wasn't for the fact that the eyes she felt came from deeper in the forest and no one in the village even dared coming in as deep as Alasha did. It was strange, but the idea of a stranger watching her was more comforting than a familiar face from the village.

It was a couple weeks of doing this before she began to hear the voice that would change everything. It was a strong voice that told her all sorts of bizarre and sometimes inexplicable things. Once the voice told Alasha that she should stay inside that day, later reports came in of a wolf attack near the woods. Alasha was terrified then, it had all been a child's game, make believe. Now though, it was real.

Alasha avoided the woods for a while, the voice faded, and a boy began to court her. She was raised to marry and bear children to a hard working man of good stature. That was simply what was done. The boy, his name didn't matter, asked her father for her hand but Alasha refused and ran off into the woods. As soon as she hit the tree line the voice came thundering back into her thoughts with a force that sent her reeling backwards for a moment. Once it hit her, the voice instructed her where to go, how to find enough wood to put up a lean-to, where to get fresh water, and made sure she caught food. The voice helped her live happily among the trees and the silence for a year and a day. On that day the voice's warnings told her not to leave the small haven she’d made, but Alasha ignored it. She crept back to the village; she wanted to see how her family was getting on.

She never left the woods' embrace, just went to the border and peered out at the world she’d abandoned. She would have made it out of this small excursion fine if she hadn't stopped on her way back to her hut. She wanted to light one more fire in the clearing she'd always frequented. Alasha built up a beautiful blaze with extra pine cones and wild flowers. She supposed it was the wild flowers that condemned her for a witch.

She could have said it was just a fire to keep warm, but everyone that questioned her always brought up the flowers. The flowers and her strange behavior were more than enough to condemn her.

She was the first and the last witch burned in that village. Everyone came out to see it.

A small portion of the church's own personal firewood supply was donated to the occasion.  The wood was piled high, and there was very careful attention given to the dryness of the wood. They wanted her to go up quickly, to be merciful. After all, she used to be one of them.

Alasha sat in a cell waiting. While there she finally got to see the voice in her head. It was a man quite tall with flame red hair. He looked distraught. Alasha tried to calm him. She didn't mind going to the flame; she actually found it a fitting end for someone so obsessed with fire. The man looked at her sadly and shook his head.

I'll not forget you, The man said before disappearing.

As darkness fell over the land, Alasha was drug from her cell and lead passed the crowd gathered to watch her death. She was then roughly tied to the giant log that wedged into the ground surrounded by sticks that served as her stake.

Alasha Helgren, you have been charged with witchcraft, and are to be burned for your sins. Do you wish to repent? An old man who might have been the village priest droned from somewhere behind her.

Alasha shook her head; she had nothing to say.

Well then, proceed. That male voice said, almost bored. Suddenly the kindling at Alasha's feet was sparking with fire. It licked and teased Alasha's toes. She saw the fire catch her dress, but nothing touched her skin.

The fire raged until there was no more wood to burn. There in the ashes stood Alasha. Unharmed.

Laughter filled the small gathering. The voice that had been in her head, that belonged to that red haired man rang through the ears of everyone gathered there.

You'll have to do better than that, It sang.

They turned to Alasha, Witch, they screamed. They asked if that was Satan they'd just heard.

Alasha looked at them bewildered, she told them she had not a clue whose voice that had been.

They tried hanging her next. They had four men each carefully measure the rope to be used. Each making sure it was short enough to ensure the snapping of Alasha's neck.

While they measured, Alasha sat and waited for her only friend to appear. It didn't take long before he appeared pacing in front of Alasha.

This time might hurt, He said looking at her for a moment.

Alasha shrugged, I should've already died.

The man stopped pacing to look at her. I could stop you know, if you are so ungrateful. I can just leave and let your mortal neck snap like a branch underfoot. He growled at her.

Alasha blinked at him, his mood changed like the weather, always unpredictable. I am grateful. She said softly.

His angry posture deflated instantly.

They won't stop trying to kill me though, She said looking at him earnestly.

I guess I'll just have to keep foiling them then, The man said smiling at her. He was a dangerous creature. Alasha could see his fire, and it was all tangled up in fun. He was the man to play the most deadly of tricks.

Loki? She whispered.

How'd you know? He asked smiling.

It was your sudden nature I suppose. Alasha said smiling back at him.

The next day dawned and Alasha was again drug from her cell, in front of the town, and then made to stand on a box as they fitted a bag over her face and then a noose to keep it in place.

The same charge of witchcraft applies, you are not permitted any last words. That same priestly voice droned.

Alasha almost laughed, she hadn't said anything last time, when they'd given her the chance.

A signal must have been given because the box beneath Alasha's feet was suddenly ripped away, most likely kicked.

Alasha felt a slight twinge in her neck. It felt like she'd slept on it wrong, and a knot in the muscles wouldn't work out.

Alasha calmly waited as they watched her still form.

Check her, She heard someone say. Moments later a hand was lifting the bag over her face enough to get a look.

Alasha simply couldn't help but smile at his shocked expression.

N...not dead sir, the man squeaked.

A great commotion then broke out. Alasha was cut down and thrown back into her cell.

It was eventually decided they would see if starving her worked.

After three months it was decided that starving hadn't worked.

Alasha was a ghastly figure now. Still so young, but skeleton thin, and constantly seen talking to herself.

Of course she wasn't actually talking to herself. Loki was always beside her. He kept her company, made sure she didn't die. He explained one day, when Alasha asked him to stop keeping her from death, that she was the only thing that kept him happy. He explained that the form she saw was a projection. His true self was locked in a cave far away.

Alasha sighed then, she didn't want to be selfish, so she let Loki drain her dry.

After they gave up on starvation killing her, they tried drowning. Alasha was tied up tightly with chains sporting great locks. She was then hooked by the ankles, to a large stone. The stone, Alasha attached, then were rowed out into the middle of a lake that sat near the village.

With no ceremony at all both stone and woman were plopped into the cold water. 

As soon as the stone settled at the bottom and Alasha let the dark water fill her nose and mouth, Loki appeared. He hovered in front of her and whispered in her mind. He told her great stories of warriors conquering cities. He told her she was stronger than all of them.

Alasha didn't feel strong though as the water crept into her lungs. She felt weak, and tired. She wanted more than anything to die. She couldn't tell Loki no though, not if her life depended on it, which it did in a way.

Alasha coughed up at least a gallon of lake water when they finally, after what felt like years drug her up from the deep.

The men who'd drudged her up from the lake's depths hadn't been all that surprised by her living status.

You are so thin I could break you like a twig, One of them said.

Why don't you try? Another countered.

Alasha lay there numb with cold as the two men debated wether or not to beat her.

They must have come to some sort of conclusion because the next thing she knew Alasha was receiving a kick to the face. After a few minutes of beating the two men switched tactics.

Alasha saw one of the men undoing his trousers before she decided to look away. Her body felt every bit of that torment. Loki either couldn't or wouldn't protect her from this pain.

Alasha didn't cry, she didn't even blink as they took away the last of her.

When they were done the two men threw Alasha back into the lake. She heard them talking about their plan to tell the village she'd finally died. Then they chucked her back into the water.

She floated there for years.

Loki stopped visiting after the visits started to consist entirely of Alasha begging for death.

Alasha had been so strong, so vibrant, but now she was a corpse that couldn't move on. She was a tormented ghost stuck in a shell.

She began to hate Loki then. She felt it burn through her like the fire she'd loved. Alasha had nothing but time to search within herself. She dug deep, and after a long time she found something.

When she was little more than bones, she discovered her power.

I curse thee, Loki. You shall not sleep without nightmares, you shall never escape that cave. It will be your tomb, as this lake is mine. Alasha screamed in her head, letting out a small flurry of bubbles she'd had trapped in her mouth for a long time.

With that curse fresh in her veins Alasha did it, she broke Loki's hold and finally her spirit was free, from her decayed body.

Loki, far away, in his own pain, felt her curse. He then felt her die, a piece of himself going with her. He truly hadn't meant to make her hate him, he regretted her pain greatly, in fact. He was selfish, he'd found someone to talk to and he refused to let her go so soon. His greed had soured her, had ruined her existence. Loki writhed under the great serpent's fangs, feeling the sting of venom. He'd turned Sigyn into a fox before he'd met Alasha. His wife had fled when he'd made that decision. She was mad at him too. But she'd be back, she always came back. His one constant. 

Chapter 2 

With Grandmother’s House

Alitha's grandmother had lived in Avldalen Sweden for somewhere around sixty years. She would always tell Alitha about how the town had made the Avldalen vase, a four meter granite vase, that was a gift from King Charles XIV John of Sweden to Nicholas I of Russia. The vase was part of the St. Petersburg summer gardens.

Alitha had never really listened to her grandmother as she nattered on about history, her life on the farm, and her move with her father from England. Most of Alitha's memories of her grandmother came from when they'd visited her during the holidays, when her mother would take Alitha up to her grandmother's cottage. The small building was on the outskirts of Avldalen, what some would call the middle of nowhere. Alitha's grandmother reveled in her solitary paradise thought, taking great joy in how far she was from the village. She owned very little, her house containing, a hideous pink couch, matching chairs, a rickety table with equally rickety