by Emmett Swan
Jessica shook her head. “You saw the reaction we got from Aunt Noreen and Uncle Basil. Nobody is going to believe us unless they see them talking and moving. But then they have to be there at night, under a full moon. And nobody is going to go out into the middle of the woods in the middle of the night with two American tourists to do that just because we said magical trees are there. And you’re right, we don’t know what exactly we need to do, but we have to find out. Let’s just see what we’re up against, okay? We can always back out.”
Riley sat on the steps leading up to the front door. He put his face in his hands. “But why should you risk your life?” he asked, still covering his face. “You don’t owe them anything.”
Jessica gazed across the fields in the direction of the little forest. She thought about the boys living as trees in the woods. And then, for some reason, she thought about Curtis. She realized that she had not thought about him at all in the past twelve hours—since their tree-person incident. And she felt a sense of relief that it hadn’t dawned on her yet today—her secret shame had been submerged. She reached down and touched the pendant of her necklace.
“I feel like I do owe them something,” she said. “I can’t explain it.”
“You want to go into a swamp and confront some supernatural being? Are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” she said very resolutely and clearly, swinging around to face her brother. “I have to do this, Riles. You don’t.”
Riley shook his head and looked down at his feet. “Don’t do this, Jess.”
“Come on,” she said, heading for the door. “Let’s go back inside and speak with Aunt Noreen and Uncle Basil. I have an idea.”
When they reached the breakfast room, their aunt and uncle were still lounging around the breakfast table.
“Aunt Noreen,” began Jessica. “Do you think I could borrow a horse and go riding?”
Uncle Basil lowered his newspaper. “I would have to help you saddle up since Gerald is off today. But I would be happy to do so.” He laid his paper on the table. “And I hope you’ve put to rest that silly notion of talking trees.”
“Are you sure you two are comfortable riding by yourselves?” asked Aunt Noreen. “You said you don’t have a lot of riding experience.”
“It’s not for both of us,” she replied. “Just for me.”
“No, for me too,” said Riley. “I want to ride too.”
Jessica looked at her little brother and smiled and turned back to Aunt Noreen.
“We haven’t ridden a bunch, but some,” she said. “We should be fine riding the fields and lanes around here.”
“Plus,” added Uncle Basil, looking at Aunt Noreen, “Dottie and Grey Girl are gentle horses, and they know the area. They should be okay.”
“All right, then!” said Aunt Noreen in a sudden burst of enthusiasm. “You two hit the trail. I know it’ll be fun!”
“I’ll get you saddled up right after I finish my coffee,” said Uncle Basil, toasting the air with his coffee cup. He swallowed a big gulp and sat it down with a clink. “Finished! Off we go then.”
Jessica and Riley looked at each other and smiled. “Thanks,” they both said.
“Have either of you heard of a place called Saler Swamp?” asked Riley.
“Why, yes,” said Uncle Basil. “It’s a rotten piece of land behind Turnbull’s pond, about a mile from here along Kyne Lane. That’s where the Lady of the Mist is rumored to dwell. You’re not going into the swamp, are you?”
“No. Of course not,” replied Jessica. “We put that silly notion to rest, remember? It’s just that one of the girls at the art show said a lot of beautiful flowers grow nearby. I want to press some for my collection.”
She felt guilty for lying. But it wasn’t her fault they didn’t believe her when she spoke the truth. Besides, she was just going to check things out. That was all.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Uncle Basil. “Lots of flowers grow along the lane. But do avoid the swamp itself. It’s a stinking hole full of sulfurous vapors.”
“We understand,” said Jessica.
“And you must be back before five,” added Aunt Noreen. “We’re all going to the Peterson House for dinner tonight, and you’ll need time to clean up.”
“The Petersons’?” asked Jessica.
“Shelly and Grace’s house?” asked Riley.
“That’s right. Are you two okay with that?” Aunt Noreen asked warily, studying their faces.
Jessica was determined to walk a new path. “Of course we are. We want to be friends with our neighbors. Don’t we, Riley?”
“Sure,” said Riley, biting his lip.
“And we’ll make sure we’re back by five.”
“Wonderful,” said Aunt Noreen, putting her hands together in a silent clap.
Twenty-Four
Uncle Basil led Jessica and Riley to the stables behind the house where he helped them mount Dottie and Grey Girl. He gave them a few instructions and sent them on their way. The horses knew their way down Kyne Lane and carried Jessica and Riley at an unhurried pace. Jessica couldn’t help but remember the sound of the tree’s voice saying the name of the road as she passed the historic-looking “Kyne Lane” road sign. That’s an interesting detail, she thought, making a mental note. She found herself wondering if she would ever get the chance to see Conall as a man, and what he would look like.
It was a foggy, overcast morning and the cool air felt good against Jessica’s skin. But the closer they got to Turnbull’s pond, the more the pleasant cool air turned into a chill of dread. They weren’t out for a morning jaunt. They were on their way to encounter a being that possessed supernatural powers. They were playing with fire. This could be serious business she’d decided to drag herself and her little brother into.
She looked over at Riley, feeling nervous for him, and smiled. “How ya doin’ over there?” she asked playfully to lighten the mood. “You look like Pat Day up on that horse!”
“Who is Pat Day?”
“The famous jockey!” Jessica belted out the shrill rift that sounded at the Kentucky racetrack just before the horses tore from the gate at Churchill Downs. The familiar melody brought a smile to Riley’s tense lips.
“Yeah, right.” He snickered. “But I do think I’m gonna feel this horse tomorrow in places I didn’t even know I had.” He stood up slightly in his stirrups and mockingly rubbed his butt. “Why don’t they put shock absorbers on these things?”
They turned their attention to the road once more and clomped along on their mounts. The sound of Dottie’s hooves thumped rhythmically along the road, and the feel of its strong body under her soothed Jessica’s anxiety. She became lost in her thoughts.
This seemed like another surreal experience. In the Irish countryside, on a horse, going to call forth a supernatural being. What a story.
Talking trees, old swords, mystic spells, enchanted forests. If Riley weren’t along for the ride, she would have a hard time believing this was really happening.
She glanced over at Riley periodically. He looked so out of place on that horse. Jeans, a red Vans T-shirt, and basketball shoes. Uncle Basil had said the shoes would be fine if they fit into the stirrups, but he insisted they wore long pants so their bare skin wouldn’t pinch between the stirrup straps.
“Between those pinching straps and sweat from the horse, you’d be so chapped by the end of the ride you couldn’t walk right!” he had warned as they saddled up.
“Glad Uncle Basil made us wear jeans, aren’t you?” she asked. “Though I can still feel the saddle straps.”
He glanced down. “I can’t. I’m fine.”
As Jessica discreetly watched her little brother, she let her mind drift over the past year and a half since Curtis had died. She had come to appreciate Riley’s new attitude toward her.
At first, it was mainly her close girlfriends and Curtis’s family who grieved with her. She remembered the tears and the hugs during the wake, and all those pe
ople—many of whom Jessica had never met. Then the guided grieving sessions at school with the upperclassmen counselors and countless crying huddles with Jessica’s immediate friends. But when everyone went back to their everyday lives, it was just her, Riley, and her parents.
Jessica’s father had implied that she’d gone too far with her grieving. They wanted her to move on and not stay caught up in Curtis’s death. But she didn’t know how to do that; it sounded like an impossible feat. She woke up with it every day since it happened. It was always there, deep down in her chest—a heaviness, a sadness, a regret. Always there. Always.
She could never, never reveal to her parents her role in the tragedy. Her father would blame her for the life vest. Her mother would say that a child’s death must be the worst pain a mother could bear. She couldn’t stand the thought of it.
But Riley had been a different story. He checked in with her often, asking if she needed to talk, and listening then—just listening. He didn’t seem to judge or preach or pretend to understand, yet he wasn’t fake-dramatic like some of her friends, acting like Curtis was their best friend when they really didn’t even know him all that well. Riley was more mature than Jessica had imagined he could be. And he was still there for her.
“Thank you, little brother,” she said, smiling at him. “I’m glad you decided to come along.”
“That’s what bratty little brothers are for, right?”
A loud snort from Dottie got her attention, sending the vibration through her body. Dottie tossed her head and stopped dead.
To her right was a body of water just a few feet from the road. She figured it had to be Turnbull’s pond. It concerned Jessica that the horse seemed tense, even skittish. But the pond seemed normal enough, with thick, weedy growth around its bank. Then she noticed the woods beyond it. They had a decidedly different character, with dark and stunted trees, many of which were bare of leaves.
“I guess the swamp’s back there,” mulled Riley, nodding toward the unhealthy-looking woods. Jessica noticed he was biting his lip.
“Oh, look!” exclaimed Jessica. “There are wildflowers along the lane.”
She climbed down from Dottie and collected a large handful of various kinds. She looked up at Riley. “You never know. We might be questioned. Aren’t they beautiful? These are daisies, of course. And this is Queen Anne’s Lace. And chicory. And primrose.”
“Whatever. Can we get on with our mission now?”
Jessica gave her bundle of flowers a loving look and carefully inserted them into a bag she had flung over Dottie’s back. “I guess so,” she said with a smile and climbed back into her saddle. But she wasn’t in it for long. Though their horses followed a clear dirt path around the pond, when they got to the sickly woods behind it, Dottie and Grey Girl refused to go any farther.
They snapped the reins and even kicked their ribs, but neither one would take one step into the swamp.
“They just aren’t familiar with these woods,” offered Jessica.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s all it is. It’s not that they just prefer to avoid supernatural entities with magical powers.”
Jessica let Riley’s words sink in. Before this past day, she had never seriously entertained the possibility that some beings possessed magic. But if magical powers did indeed exist, then a whole range of possibilities opened up. Some good, some bad. A supernatural being could hurt her and Riley and then use its powers to cover up the deed. The thought gave her pause.
But long ago, three brothers had been taken from their family and forced to live their lives as trees, and she and Riley might be able to help them. Dealing with a supernatural being was a risk, but it was a risk she had to take. If things got too dangerous, they could always back out.
“All right, smartass, hop down. We go on foot. We’re just checking things out, remember? We don’t have to get involved if things don’t feel right.”
They tied up their mounts and stepped into the dark woods.
It didn’t take long before one aspect of the unique character of Saler Swamp made itself known. Riley wrinkled up his nose. “Whew. Uncle Basil wasn’t kidding about this place stinking.”
As they walked along, the dead trees began to outnumber the living ones. Curls of yellowish mist hung in the branches of tree skeletons. Often, their shoes would sink into the wet soil, and foul black water filled in their footprints.
“That way looks fairly dry,” said Jessica, pointing to a faint trail. They followed it and were grateful that their feet no longer sank into the ground. But the misty trees began to close in around them the further they went. The yellowish fog became thicker, and less light penetrated the swamp. The rotten-egg smell of sulfur became pervasive.
“This place is pretty spooky,” said Riley, his wide eyes darting left and right.
Jessica frowned as she looked around her. “Conall and his brothers—”
“You talk like they’re real people.”
“They were real people at one time. And maybe with our help, they will be again.”
“Well, for right now, they’re just trees in the woods.”
“Whatever. They said to find a fountain two feet in height. I wonder where it could be.”
“We can’t really walk anywhere except along this path,” said Riley, surveying the black pools of water located in the gaps between the trees. “Let’s just keep walking and hopefully we’ll see it.”
They continued another mile, by which time the yellow fog was everywhere and the strong odor more powerful than ever. Along either side of their path they could see gurgling in the black water, and vents crusted with yellowish deposits. Now, nearly all the trees were black skeletons bare of foliage. It was a dismal and depressing place.
Jessica began having serious doubts about their mission. What am I doing? And what am I getting Riley into? The doubt became coupled with fear the deeper they went into the woods. The damp eerie mist and the stagnant chemical stench unsettled her. Her mind racing, she wondered if they were being watched and she became acutely aware of the hair follicles on the back of her neck standing up straight.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
Her mother’s imagined words came into her head again. “A mother’s worst pain…” She took a deep breath to steady her racing thoughts.
“It’s just smelly woods,” she explained to her fear. “No big deal.”
Then, up ahead, amid all the tree skeletons and dark wood, they spotted a patch of relatively healthy growth, with green leaves on the trees and green bushes growing between them. It seemed out of place.
“There,” said Jessica, pointing and breathing a sigh of relief. “A clearing. And it’s brighter. Maybe that’s what we’re looking for.”
As they approached, they saw that the green growth enclosed a small pond with clean, blue water. Near the edge of the pond was a little fountain spurting water into the air before it splashed into a small plunge pool. The overflow from the little pool spilled over into the larger pond. It was obviously the spot the talking trees had described.
“Well,” said Jessica. “I guess this is the place.” Now that they had found the fountain, she felt more certain. Her anxiety lightened. “Let’s see what happens if we summon this Lady of the Mist person.”
Twenty-Five
Jessica removed the gold pendant and chain out of her pocket and gazed at it.
“Isn’t that the necklace that Curtis gave you?” asked Riley.
Jessica twirled her hair around her fingers as she looked at it. “It’s the only thing I have that he gave to me. But we need gold to summon the Lady of the Mist.”
“Molly didn’t have anything?”
“Just a few things that I think were plated. We’d better use real gold for this. But I’m not going to use the whole thing. Just the chain. I can get another one later.”
“Yeah. That should work,” Riley agreed.
She slid the pendant off the chain, hesitated briefly, and tossed the chain into the p
lunge pool. It struck the water with an audible plop, then all was quiet except for the sound of the gurgling fountain.
“Now what, Jess?”
“Like the trees boys said, we beckon the Lady of the Mist.”
“Okay, but how do we do that?”
Jessica shrugged. “We call out her name over and over.”
She looked over the pond, drew in a breath, and intoned. “I call the Lady of the Mist.” She looked at Riley. “You have to join me or it won’t work.”
Riley rolled his eyes. “How do you know?”
“What the hell, Riles. We didn’t come this far for nothing, did we? Just help out.”
“This is dumb!” he retorted. “But I’ll do it.”
“I call the Lady of the Mist,” said Jessica again, and Riley joined in, his voice almost a whisper.
“Again,” said Jessica.
“I call the Lady of the Mist.”
Riley began to speak louder, in unison with Jessica.
“I call the Lady of the Mist.”
Again and again they repeated the phrase. A hundred times and even more. Nothing happened at first, and Riley rolled his eyes some more and feigned boredom. But then, as Jessica studied the area around the pool, she noticed subtle changes occurring. She pointed at the pond and vigorously nodded her head up and down, still chanting all the while.
The water in the pool became darker, and just above the surface, vague shadows flitted from one side of the pool to the other. Low, indecipherable whispers came from the shadows. Jessica’s heart raced. They kept on repeating the phrase.
Swirls of yellowish mist gathered above the clear pond then a bright spot of light appeared. It began as a tiny dot but expanded into a human-sized oval. As they watched in rapt fascination, a human figure began to form within the oval of light, quickly gaining detail.
The figure transformed into a beautiful woman, suspended a few feet above the pond. She was of middle age, with long, flowing white hair and a simple full-length dress, also white, with flowing fabric around her legs.