Page 28 of Found in Obscurity
He stared at his phone for a long moment, blinking at it in confusion before he decided to just not bother trying to figure her out. Taciturn old witch, she was.
He put his phone on the table and grabbed his winter jacket, walking out into the back yard. He felt Kit pad after him, keeping close to Lorin as they walked toward the tiny shed in the far corner of the garden.
The dark wood looked even darker from the moisture, and the door was slightly stuck, creaking when Lorin tugged it open. He peeked inside, not seeing much. Some gardening tools, a few plastic boxes with lids placed on a narrow shelf, and the bike his grandma had told him about.
It was beige, with shoehorn-shaped handles, two brown leather satchels thrown over the back wheel, and a woven basket over the front one. It looked to be in perfect shape—even the paint on it looked fresh, and the basket appeared to be brand new.
Lorin couldn’t remember the last time he had ridden a bike, but if everyone else was telling the truth, it wasn’t really a skill you forgot.
He pulled the bike out of the shed and walked it around the house and onto the narrow road that led from his cabin into town. He leaned it against the fence, returning inside to get his phone and wallet.
Kit opted to stay next to the bike, curiously examining it from every angle available. Lorin grabbed his things in a few seconds, already at the door when he realized Kit would have nowhere to sit but inside the little basket, and that might get uncomfortable for him.
The blanket they’d used to sleep under wouldn’t fit into the basket. Frowning, Lorin walked to his duffle bag and pulled out one of his older hoodies, figuring that would have to do until he could get something more suitable.
He walked out, placed his phone and wallet in one of the satchels in the back, then tucked his hoodie inside the basket, making sure the bottom was well padded.
“Okay,” he said, turning to Kit. “Let me help you get in.”
Kit looked slightly bewildered, but still allowed Lorin to lift him up and place him in the basket. He fidgeted, peeking and leaning over the edge with his paw resting on it. He seemed comfortable enough.
“You gonna be okay in there?” he asked, and Kit dropped down, settling himself on his belly inside the basket, his ears and the tip of his fluffy tail sticking out of it. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Lorin straddled the bike and, after a second of hesitation, pushed himself off down the road. He wobbled and wiggled slightly, trying to activate muscle memory to help him through. It didn’t take too long before he got his stride, able to hold a straight line as he pedaled. Kit raised his head, looking around as the woods whizzed past them.
Lorin had underestimated just how far his parents’ cabin was from town. The sweat forming on every inch of him despite the nip in the air was testament to that. He didn’t know how he was going to make it back, let alone how he was going to make it back with more supplies weighing him down.
He took to cursing his grandma with every push of his feet, his thighs burning in places they never had before until the blessed sight of the edge of town appeared through the tree line. Thank the stars!
Lorin wheezed and panted into town at a sluggish pace, getting off at the earliest opportunity near the pharmacy. His legs almost collapsed underneath him, feeling like jelly, and his feet felt like bricks. His vision wavered as he tried to get enough air into his tight chest.
He hadn’t realized just how unfit he had gotten.
Once he felt like the world had stopped spinning, he straightened himself up, glancing around. Old-fashioned lampposts with delicate filigree lined the cobbled streets, every house done in its own style. The only thing uniform about them were the pointed roofs and chimney stacks. Like rows of witches’ hats in different colors.
He wheeled the bike along the pathways, Kit getting antsy inside the basket to be let down.
“Give me a second,” Lorin murmured. He could admit he was a little paranoid about letting the fox out in such a big location. The midnight trip Kit had clearly gone on had worsened the anxiety already sitting in his chest.
It was the idea that Kit could disappear on him. Could leave or be taken. That something could happen to him and Lorin wouldn’t be able to stop it. Just like he couldn’t…
He pushed the morbid thoughts away as he found a bike rack near a small playground that held a wooden swing and climbing set. He wheeled the bike into the rack, grabbing his belongings from the satchel before scooping Kit up and out.
He hesitated before placing him on the ground, but pushed past his irrational fears. He couldn’t carry the fox around for the rest of his life, even though it felt suspiciously like he was setting his heart on the floor outside of his body. But there was nothing he could do. Leashing a familiar was unheard of. Witches didn’t even like to do that with domesticated pets.
He straightened up, satisfied when Kit just stood there instead of immediately sprinting off into the unknown.
A little girl of about five who was playing nearby gasped and rushed forward, clearly reaching for Kit’s tail. “Ooh, pretty!”
Kit screeched, scrambling at Lorin’s leg to escape and be held. Lorin gathered him close, his own heart hammering as a mother rushed after her wayward child. She grabbed her little arm to hold her back.
“I’m so sorry!” she said, glancing at the fox and then Lorin’s hands, the clear markings of a witch. She put two and two together quickly. “She hasn’t learned about familiars yet. Or pet etiquette in general. We keep ours away from her for now.”
“It’s fine,” Lorin said a little tightly.
Kit sniffed like it was clearly not. Lorin silently agreed.
The mother examined him for another second, her apologetic expression vanishing, to be replaced with suspicion. “Are you Morana’s grandson? The one that left for the city? Someone said you were back for the ceremony.”