by Tess Adair
It’s too much again, but I have a purpose. Pick out your favorite—or, if you don’t think it’s too much, your favorite two.
That evening, after dinner, Knatt told her to go back to her room and dress herself warmly, and to be sure to put on the boots and a rainproof jacket. He also informed her that he’d taken the liberty of packing her a small overnight bag, which she would find sitting at the foot her bed.
Confounded, she returned to her room to find a packed backpack sitting on the floor, resting against the foot of the bed. She dressed as she was told, pulling on the cushiony brown hiking boots and picking out a deep green raincoat to complete her ensemble…which also happened to be quite new, of course.
Per Knatt’s continued instruction, she slipped on the backpack and ventured out into the back lawn, which was quickly gathering darkness. Several yards from the perimeter of light that illuminated the back patio, she saw a shadowy figure approaching.
Logan.
Jude took a step forward, then paused. She hadn’t seen Logan since their last talk, which meant she’d had enough time in her own head to convince herself that she’d overstepped her bounds.
What if she had accidentally said something terrible, and Logan had rightly taken offense? She stood frozen in her place, suddenly certain that this seemed the likeliest scenario. She had no evidence for her theory, of course, but what did that matter, if—
“Jude!” said Logan, smiling warmly at her as she stepped into the light. “How are you feeling?”
Jude almost laughed.
“A little nervous, I guess. What are we doing?”
“Ah. Well, first, to be clear—we aren’t going to do anything you don’t consent to.” Logan looked her right in the eye, and her expression was serious. “I want you to know, if you decide at any point that you don’t want to do this, I’ll take you back home. And that’ll be that. No questions asked. Okay?”
Though her heart was fluttering a little, Jude took a deep breath and made sure her voice remained even, almost calm.
“Okay. So, uh…what is it that you want me to consent to?”
“I’d like for us to hike up into the woods beyond the estate, find a good place to put up camp, and spend the night out there.” She paused for a moment, giving Jude a small, almost mischievous, smile, which did nothing for her mounting anxiety. “Oh, and we’re gonna do some magic shit. Cool?”
Jude felt her heart falter a moment, before roaring back to life with a vengeance.
“Fuck yeah. I’m ready.”
“Excellent.”
Logan strode past Jude, over to the back wall of the house. There she grabbed a gigantic backpack leaning against the wall, which Jude somehow hadn’t noticed when she came outside. It had all kinds of camping equipment strapped to the top and bottom, but Logan swung it onto her shoulders like it weighed nothing.
“I also think it would be best,” she said, her expression back to a stone-cold seriousness, “if we make an attempt not to talk on the way up. In order to prepare for the casting, it would be best if we both try to clear our minds as we walk. Basically, a walking meditation. It is also, of course, safer, since we are traveling in the dark.”
“Okay. Yeah, I can try that.”
“Only as long as you’re comfortable. You can talk if you need to, or if you start to feel weird.”
“Got it.”
Logan nodded once, then reached over to the side of the backpack and produced a flashlight, which she handed over to Jude. The one for herself she pulled out of her leather motorcycle jacket.
“That is the most versatile jacket in the fucking world,” muttered Jude before she could stop herself.
“Why would I have anything else?”
With an almost imperceptible wink, Logan strode off into the darkness.
Jude followed.
They walked for a very long time. At first, the path through the dense forest behind the estate remained relatively level, and the walking easy. Eventually the ground began to slope upward, gently at first, then more steeply. Jude walked beside Logan where she could, allowing the ring of light from Logan’s flashlight to illuminate her way. But when the path became too narrow, she slipped behind and turned on her own light for safety.
The few times she caught sight of Logan’s face, her expression was completely neutral, her gaze fixated on the path in front of them. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought that Logan didn’t even know she was there.
By Jude’s estimate, they walked for nearly 45 minutes before the ground began to level out again, and Logan motioned to her that they were getting close. A few minutes after that, she led her away from the main path, down a nearly hidden offshoot, until they came out into a small, open clearing.
The site bore clear signs of human visitation: a fire pit at its center and logs set around it in an imperfect semi-circle. With a satisfied sigh, Logan pulled off the giant backpack and leaned it against the largest log. Jude followed suit.
“We’ll need a little more kindling,” said Logan as she kneeled in front of the backpack and unhooked a large package from the bottom. She cut it open, revealing a small stack of quartered logs. “You should stay out in the open as much as possible.”
“Huh?” asked Jude, momentarily thrown.
Logan had already stood up and started to move away.
“I’m gathering kindling. I’ll be back in a moment.”
And just like that, she was gone. She disappeared beyond the line of trees, where it was too dark for Jude to track her movements.
For a moment, Jude stood frozen. Her parents had never taken her camping. The only time she’d ever gone was with one of her soccer teams, as a kind of bonding exercise. Years had passed in the meantime. Did she even remember any of it?
Eventually, she remembered building a pyramid. So, she bent down, picked out three of the log quarters, and brought them over to the fire pit. There, she set them upright and leaned them against each other for support. It took her a moment to find the right balance, but finally, they held their place. Jude sat back on her haunches and admired her work. She tried to recall which coach had taught her that, but she couldn’t seem to pull that piece from her memory.
Logan returned carrying a large bunch of dry twigs and branches. She smiled when she caught sight of the little pyramid.
“Thank you for getting us started,” she said as she knelt down in front of it and began arranging her pile of kindling around the logs.
“I figured I should at least try to help,” said Jude with a shrug.
“Always a good impulse,” Logan nodded.
Eventually, Logan reached into her jacket and pulled out a lighter, then lit a few key twigs and leaves. She reached into the giant bag once more and pulled out a metal poker, which she used to coax the tiny flames into a healthy blaze.
As Logan silently saw to her work, Jude found herself sitting uselessly on a nearby log. Her anxiety and her desire to move slowly rose to a crescendo inside her body, until it culminated in the clearing of her throat.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, hoping against hope that her voice didn’t sound too noticeably high-pitched and strained.
“Hm.” Logan’s movements paused as she considered. “Do you know how to put up a tent?”
“Not really, but, uh…I can give it a shot.”
Logan nodded at this, then pointed her at the surprisingly small package still tied to the bottom of the giant backpack. “There it is.”
As Jude jumped to action, Logan returned quietly to her work without further comment.
The tent managed to confuse her at first, but eventually, she saw the logic to it. The two tent poles had to be stretched into existence from their collapsed form, and then struck through some loops attached to the noisy, waterproof fabric. A tie joined them in the middle.
Fortunately, the one part she’d remembered were the stakes. Otherwise, she wasn’t sure she ever would have figured those out.
> At long last, a completed tent stood before her, its entrance sitting along the largest break in the log circle. She turned back around to show Logan her handiwork.
A roaring fire greeted her, and over it stretched a long spit with a tin teakettle dangling from the middle. Logan glanced back with her and gave her an approving nod.
“Good work,” she said. “Stand back a moment, would you?”
Jude nodded and stepped back, though she made sure to stay within the perimeter of the logs. Now that they were no longer hiking up a serious incline, she found her blood cooling faster and faster. The fire helped.
As she watched, Logan picked up another bundle and unrolled and unzipped it, eventually revealing the inner lining of a sleeping bag. She laid it out on the ground in front of the tent, lining toward the sky, and motioned for Jude to take a seat as she took one herself.
“I’d like to try something out,” she said, carefully. “But you’re free to say no, if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a traditional healing ritual practiced by many eira casters. Most notably, the Adherents of the Moon Temple.”
Excitement seared over her nerves.
“That sounds cool,” she said.
“I have to warn you, it can be an intense experience, especially the first time.” She motioned over at the teakettle, warming atop the fire. “We basically take magic drugs and do a mind-meld. Have you ever seen Star Trek?”
“No.”
“Ah. Well, in that case…I’m going to create a psychic bridge to your mind, and together, we’re going to walk through some of your traumas. The Adherents call it releasing the burden. So. How does that sound?”
“Uh…fine, I guess? Kinda weird.”
“Do you want to do it?”
“I think so.”
“Mm. The thing is, I need you to be sure. This is your only chance to say no. Once we drink from the cup, there’s no turning back.”
Jude also looked over at the teakettle. It made her nervous, but it was the same kind of nervous she used to get right before a soccer game. She knew it might go badly, and yet…she wanted nothing else.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay then.”
As if on cue, the teakettle began to sing.
Logan turned toward the teakettle and reached out, grabbing it with a gloved hand. Her other hand picked up a small camp mug Jude somehow hadn’t noticed sitting near the earth. She filled it to the brim and passed it over to Jude, who accepted it gladly. Its warmth spread through the fabric of her own thin cloth gloves, and she immediately gave in to the urge to hold it right up to her nose to breathe in its scent.
“Let it cool a bit first,” said Logan cautiously. “When you’re ready, drink about half the cup, then pass the rest to me.”
Jude nodded her understanding, the strong scent overpowering her.
“Is there cinnamon in this?”
“And a few other things. Helps make it a little more palatable.”
Jude nodded absently, still focused on the sweet, full scent currently filling up her nose.
If autumn had a scent, this would be it, she thought.
She gave it as long a moment as she could stand before taking a sip, wondering what taste would accompany its alluring smell.
The sweet spice of the drink seduced her. She felt her head go light almost immediately, and though the taste of the drink was wonderful, she had a hard time sitting upright long enough to consume as much of it as she’d been instructed to. Her body seemed to feel a little bit heavier with every sip.
When she was pretty sure only half of the drink remained, she pushed it over to Logan, doing her best not to let any splash on the ground. Why was it so hard to keep her arm steady all of a sudden? She felt her lids involuntarily droop.
It was almost as if the exhaustion of the day, and the long climb, and the cold weather, and assembling the tent had caught up with her all at once. Almost, but…not quite. Her experiences with falling asleep were different from this: slower, and less like jumping off a cliff.
She heard a voice, probably Logan’s, come to her from far away.
“Try to take a few deep breaths.”
The last thing she experienced was the sensation of giving in, her spine curving slightly as she fell backward, into nothing.
She was walking down a hallway. She had no idea how she had gotten there, or what had come directly before. The hallway seemed to stretch impossibly far, and it was lit only by small, glowing sconces, set far enough apart to allow for darkness to come between them.
How did I get here?
She spun around, certain that if she only looked in another direction, it would all make sense to her. She wasn’t quite sure what she expected to see, but when she saw only more hallway, she knew it had been something else. With a sigh of resignation, she turned back around. She couldn’t say why, but she felt certain that the way she had started out facing was forward, while the way that she had started out facing away from was back.
She took a few steps, and quickly felt herself enveloped in darkness. A strange, hollow feeling invaded her entire being, but she kept walking forward. At last, she stepped into the light of a sconce again. There, she paused.
What was that? Is it always going to feel like that?
Hoping to stall her next journey into the uncomfortable dark, she turned to the right, toward the sconce. Even though it could only be a few feet from her face, she couldn’t quite make it out. The sconce held some kind of light source, but if it was a candle or a lightbulb or the world’s largest firefly, she could not say. It was shapeless, devoid of recognizable form. She looked down at the carpet, and though she was certain there was a patter there, that, too, she could not make out.
Even though she was out of the darkness, she couldn’t see a damn thing. The only difference here was the absence of that awful, uncertain feeling that the dark provided.
And yet…there was only one way forward.
Crossing her arms over her chest as if that might somehow protect her, Jude strode forward, trying to move a little faster this time. Just like before, as soon as she stepped beyond the limited ring of light, a wrenching, creeping sensation flooded through her. It was horrible out here. She kept walking.
And again, she stepped out of the dark.
The creeping vanished. She took a deep breath as she stepped right into the center of the warm, well-lit ring around the sconce and came to a stop. It seemed safest, somehow, to stand directly in the center. As if the light were cushion for a fall.
She took a few more deep breaths, staring into the brief void ahead of her. She felt so alone here. Had she ever felt this alone before? How did I get here?
She took another breath, remembering that, sooner or later, she had to step forward again.
At that moment, she heard a small voice in the back of her head.
What if I just…stay here?
She shook that thought away. Forward was the only way out. She knew that.
Staying is giving up.
With that thought and little else to propel her, she strode into the darkness once more.
The creeping unease was immediate, and it nearly suffocated her. Apart from a single glowing point far ahead of her, she couldn’t see anything. She hoped against hope that nothing lay in wait, ready to trip her up.
This time, the darkness seemed to stretch. She was sure she’d been walking over a minute already, and yet the orb of light ahead seemed no closer. What was going on?
She picked up her pace, nearly tripping over her own feet as she did. Suddenly, the darkness seemed different from before. Her creeping unease seemed to coagulate, slowly forming into something more specific….
She no longer felt alone.
Somewhere in the blank, empty darkness, she felt a presence she could not identify. Her tripping gait gave way into an outright run.
Not moments later, she broke back into the light. Panting, she skidde
d to a halt, doing her best to aim at the centermost point again. Maybe it didn’t help her…or maybe it was the only thing that could.
Someone’s out there. Someone, or…something.
Jude shuddered, her arms pulling reflexively around her torso, shielding herself from unseen assailants. She started to take a step forward, then stopped.
Staying is giving up. I know that.
But…what if it’s the only way to be safe?
No sooner had she had the thought than the light around her seemed to shrink, just the slightest bit. Was it really shrinking, or was she only imagining it? She couldn’t know, and she had nothing left to compare it to—
She heard a noise, coming from the dark. Without another moment’s thought, she broke into a run.
This time, as soon as she stepped out of the light, she realized that she could no longer see the next safe circle up ahead. Where had it gone? She tried to turn back, but as soon as she’d stepped beyond it, the light had disappeared into nothingness.
Out of options, she ran forward—or so she hoped.
She could sense the other presence again. She didn’t know exactly where it was, but she knew that it was headed, inexorably, toward her. Every second that passed brought it one step closer.
She wasn’t sure how long she ran before she could see something again—a prick of light, far ahead. Accessing a strength she hadn’t known she possessed, she urged her legs to move ever faster.
The other entity gained on her, still. The pinprick slowly grew into an orb, and the orb began to get bigger and bigger. She was nearly there, but before she could rejoice, she felt the entity encroach, heard a footstep fall not five feet behind her—
And then she burst into the light, stumbling as her feet hit rocky, uneven ground. A branch appeared from thin air and scratched her cheek, and she tripped over a log.
Somehow, the hallway had given over to forest. As Jude righted herself, she took in the woods around her. Though it was still dark as night, she could make out considerably more of her surroundings than she could only seconds before. She could see the outlines of trees and bushes, and far above, hints of stars in the night sky.