The Scarecrow Hunters: Glint & Shade Book One
“There’s a path that used to lead straight from here to the back side of yer daddy’s farm,” the old woman said. “But it cuts awful close to that wicked place . . .”
“The Dark Wood?” the boy asked.
“Aye, the Dark Wood.” She leaned close, her hot breath the smell of burnt cabbage. In a whisper, she went on: “The darkness what takes our boys from us. Our boys who come back with dead eyes if they come back at all.”
The boy swallowed as the old woman sat back. “Yeh have the look of yer mother,” she said. “When the time comes, you remember her.” But he wouldn’t. When the hunters arrived, growing as if from the shadows, Eliot would forget everything. And the wind would blow in circles the fabric of his waking thoughts, breaking the anchor of spring and flinging it headlong into summer.
In the small valley region of Gal-Braith, a tradition has existed for as long as anyone can remember. It is the tradition of the kohlas: the journey all boys begin on their seventh birthday. A quest to find and destroy the scarecrow, it is the way all boys grow to become men. It is the way things have always been, the way things are, and the way things will always be. And it is a lie. Born from an agreement between the people of the valley generations back and the low energy of the Dark Wood, no one remembers how the kohlas began and few question if it should continue. Eliot begins his kohlas like all the others, but a seed planted deep inside him by his mother makes his journey different from the rest.
“There’s a path that used to lead straight from here to the back side of yer daddy’s farm,” the old woman said. “But it cuts awful close to that wicked place . . .”
“The Dark Wood?” the boy asked.
“Aye, the Dark Wood.” She leaned close, her hot breath the smell of burnt cabbage. In a whisper, she went on: “The darkness what takes our boys from us. Our boys who come back with dead eyes if they come back at all.”
The boy swallowed as the old woman sat back. “Yeh have the look of yer mother,” she said. “When the time comes, you remember her.” But he wouldn’t. When the hunters arrived, growing as if from the shadows, Eliot would forget everything. And the wind would blow in circles the fabric of his waking thoughts, breaking the anchor of spring and flinging it headlong into summer.
In the small valley region of Gal-Braith, a tradition has existed for as long as anyone can remember. It is the tradition of the kohlas: the journey all boys begin on their seventh birthday. A quest to find and destroy the scarecrow, it is the way all boys grow to become men. It is the way things have always been, the way things are, and the way things will always be. And it is a lie. Born from an agreement between the people of the valley generations back and the low energy of the Dark Wood, no one remembers how the kohlas began and few question if it should continue. Eliot begins his kohlas like all the others, but a seed planted deep inside him by his mother makes his journey different from the rest.
“There’s a path that used to lead straight from here to the back side of yer daddy’s farm,” the old woman said. “But it cuts awful close to that wicked place . . .”
“The Dark Wood?” the boy asked.
“Aye, the Dark Wood.” She leaned close, her hot breath the smell of burnt cabbage. In a whisper, she went on: “The darkness what takes our boys from us. Our boys who come back with dead eyes if they come back at all.”
The boy swallowed as the old woman sat back. “Yeh have the look of yer mother,” she said. “When the time comes, you remember her.” But he wouldn’t. When the hunters arrived, growing as if from the shadows, Eliot would forget everything. And the wind would blow in circles the fabric of his waking thoughts, breaking the anchor of spring and flinging it headlong into summer.
In the small valley region of Gal-Braith, a tradition has existed for as long as anyone can remember. It is the tradition of the kohlas: the journey all boys begin on their seventh birthday. A quest to find and destroy the scarecrow, it is the way all boys grow to become men. It is the way things have always been, the way things are, and the way things will always be. And it is a lie. Born from an agreement between the people of the valley generations back and the low energy of the Dark Wood, no one remembers how the kohlas began and few question if it should continue. Eliot begins his kohlas like all the others, but a seed planted deep inside him by his mother makes his journey different from the rest.
Praise for The Scarecrow Hunters, Glint & Shade Book One:
“The Scarecrow Hunters is a profoundly dark fantasy that slowly unravels much like a fever dream… [A] dark and engaging read, perfect for lovers of dark fantasy and anyone who doesn’t live near a dark wood, and a good start to the series.”
Reedsy Discovery