by Eve Hathaway
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Chapter One
* * *
Into the Woods
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CYRUS GROANED UNDER the weight of the supplies, almost toppling over when the shopkeeper tossed on another load of preserved food to the pile. He had everything he and his companion would need at least for a week or two. The forest where they were headed was infected by an evil famine, reducing its resources to inedible and toxic fare. Food was key to surviving their journey.
Unfortunately his female companion couldn’t disagree more.
Sitting on the windowsill of the small shop, idly braiding a small piece of her long, snowy hair, Magdeline’s priority was more about comfort. She had insisted on purchasing two of the more cozy sleeping packs, extra blankets, more clothes, soaps, rope, as well as miscellaneous items, all of which she refused to carry herself.
The hero’s supply of jewels was dwindling to nearly nothing. With the purchase of a wet stone, the last blue gem was dropped into the palm of the shopkeeper. Cyrus sighed in resignation but he wasn’t entirely disappointed. The city of Harben considered him a true hero, him having liberated them from clutches of a vile beast that terrorized their home. Its residents couldn’t thank him and Magdeline enough and they had given him what they could for what little money he had. The town had almost been completely demolished by the monster but much of the necessary wares and supplies had been stored underground.
Among his new rations, Cyrus was also the proud owner of a good sword—one that wouldn’t shatter after one blow.
He thanked the shopkeeper and hobbled out of the store, trying to keep from knocking over anything and keeping everything from falling. He collapsed outside and began to organize their supplies into some form that he could carry easily. Magdeline had followed him out and sighed.
“Aren’t you ready yet? We really should get to the forest before sundown.”
Now that Cyrus wasn’t completely focused on his heroic duties, Magdeline’s presence had once again made him nervous and uneasy. She was standing close enough for him to almost feel her breath on his neck. He flushed and tried to inch away from her. Both of them had been in Harben for the past couple of days, but not even after slaying a creature or helping rebuild the city could give him the confidence to even look at her, much less speak to her. Not surprisingly, the knowledge of his fear of women had spread and had already earned him some good-natured teasing from a number of city-folk.
Cyrus managed a stiff nod. He rolled the sleeping packs tightly and tied them to the large pack. Some smaller bags filled with food and water canteens were tied to the outside. With a grunt, he stood and wrapped the straps of the pack over his shoulders. It was still ridiculously heavy but at least now, it was more manageable.
As they exited the city, they were showered with the well-wishes and gratitude from the crowds of residents. Most of them had returned from their trip as refugees, so the streets were bustling once more. The city had begun to look like a city again. Cyrus shook the hands of almost all of the men; his shoulder was throbbing with the force of all the enthusiastic pats it had been given as they made their way through. Magdeline was also the recipient of the people’s gratitude and admiration. Cyrus thought she deserved it. While she hadn’t been of much help in the rebuilding, it was due to her quick-thinking and magic that they had been able to defeat the monster in the first place.
About an hour into the slow exodus out of Harben, Magdeline turns to him and asked, “Can we go now?” she hissed through gritted teeth, a fake smile still plastered across her face. “We have to be there before nightfall.”
Cyrus nodded his reply as he untangled himself from the boisterous hugs of yet another villager. The two of them left in a wake of cheering people.
The path to the North stretched over a vast field of golden grass. Harvest was fast approaching and they came across a few people in the fields, preparing and gathering what they could before the famine reached them.
They were told that they would reach the cursed land within a day’s travel. As the afternoon sun was fading into the twilight of the early evening, Magdeline’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Look at those shadows,” Magdeline said, raising herself to her toes to get a better look of the rolling hills beyond. “The forest must be close.”
When they got closer, what they had thought was shadow was actually blackened grass. Its once-green blades now as dark as ink and seemed to be frozen, immobile. Cyrus stood over it warily, noticing the black creep closer and closer to the healthy field. It killed each blade instantly, turning it into a deep pitch black. Magdeline hung back as Cyrus stepped over the line of line and into the dark. The grass crumbled under his feet but he was unharmed.
Magdeline followed suit, cringing at the ugly landscape. Before long, they began to pass other cities that were all abandoned. And the towns looked as if they had all been deserted in a hurry; doors hung open and overturned carts full of now-rotten harvest littered the streets.
“I guess they were scared when they saw that blackness getting closer,” Magdeline said in a whisper.
Around them, the black and gray landscape made it look it was already night time. The strange grass was getting taller and taller, and later it wasn’t like walking in shadows any longer. The ground was so dark it was like walking into a void with only the sky to guide them. Cyrus was almost afraid to stop, afraid to be swallowed up by the endless darkness while he slept but they finally neared the forest before nightfall. If the field had been nerve-wracking, it was nothing compared to the forest. The trees were as black as the ground, twisted and hard as stone. There was no sound and the air smelled like the cold of winter. Cyrus looked up at the forest’s edge and saw that the leaves had not fallen, nor did they move. There wasn’t even a breeze.
“Come on,” Magdeline urged, though her voice wavered. “It’s not that bad. I’ve been in the forest before.”
Cyrus looked at her. He realized then that he knew almost nothing about her. The only time he could talk to her was when she was in her cursed form as a faerie. She couldn’t speak when she was in that state. However, she knew everything about him. It was a little unfair. But he knew that was his fault. If he couldn’t get over his fear of speaking to women on his own, how would he ever be a great hero? Heroes were meant to help damsels and that was precisely what he meant to do—even if it meant taking a detour.
“The witch is close to the edge of the forest; I remember that much. If we go just a quarter of a mile in and go around the perimeter, we should come across something. Of course, the forest does look a little different than it did last time.”
Magdeline took the lead. Though the Forest was dense, some trees were spaced just far enough between that Cyrus could get through them despite his giant pack. Magdeline wove between the trunks effortlessly, almost
like a beam of light with her pale hair and shining clothes. Even if Cyrus couldn’t speak to her, he was more comfortable being around her now than he had been in the beginning. That is, at a safe distance, of course. The conversation was mostly one-sided, with her doing most of the talking, uncaring whether he spoke or not.
“I’m sure there’s nothing left here. There’s nothing else to eat now that the forest is completely dead.” She bowed her head and sighed. “We’ll be lucky if the witch is even still here.”
A sound broke through the quiet and Cyrus ducked behind the trunk of a tree. Magdeline did the same and inched closer to him. Her hair tickled his hand as she crouched. The sound grew louder and fallen limbs snapped under the weight of some unknown creature sounded like explosions.
“It’s a demon,” Magdeline whispered.
In the darkness, Cyrus could see the faint outline of the creature trudging by. It was fairly small compared to other monsters, able to slip through the forest without getting caught in the tightly packed trucks. It was covered in dark, oily fur and had spiraling horns. It walked on four legs and while it wasn’t very large, each heavy step and footfall made the ground shake. It opened its mouth and let out a long hiss.
Cyrus gripped the hilt of his sword.
The creature didn’t seem to notice their presence as it continued amble past them into the blackness. It wasn’t until they could no longer hear its steps that Magdeline spoke again.
“I guess creatures that don’t require plants to survive this place, thrive here,” she said, standing. “We should be careful. Unlike them, we can’t see well in this forest.”
Cyrus nodded in agreement. It was already nearing impossible to see beyond an arm’s length and his back ached with the weight of his pack. He swallowed his fear and, with his chin held high, was about to suggest that they stop for the night.
But as he was about to speak, Magdeline piped up, “Let’s stop for the night,” she said.
His words were lost in a gust of air as he exhaled and let his once squared shoulders slump. So much for taking the lead on things, he thought. He dropped the bag to the ground and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to alleviate the numbing ache. Magdeline leaned against a tree with her arms crossed while she waited for him to unpack.
He did so quickly, feeling the sting in his joints with each movement. He unrolled the sleeping packs and a thought occurred to him, leading his face to turn beet red. Where would he put them? How would he place them? He couldn’t put them side-by-side. Would it look too strange to put them far apart? How far apart would still seem normal? His fingers fumbled with one of the packs as he tried to buy some time to think. He unrolled the mat slowly and it fit snugly between a giant evergreen and two saplings. When he’d run out of excuses in his head to for him to avoid the other pack, a nervous sweat beaded his neck.
“W-Where…” he stammered. “W-Where do you…”
His voice was barely audible as he struggled to say the words without sounding completely awkward. However, he was failing miserably. Magdeline rolled her eyes.
“What? Speak up!” she snapped.
“Where do…you, um,” he trailed off. His voice was louder now but still the words wouldn’t come out. “S-Sleep…?”
Magdeline let out an exaggerated sigh and snatched her sleeping mat from his fumbling fingers, tossing it towards the opposite direction of the two saplings. The mat landed just a foot away from Cyrus’ cot. She then got on her hands and knees to smooth it out, after which she reached over to Cyrus’ rucksack to tug a blanket free from the pile. Of course she’d take the thicker one, Cyrus thought bitterly for a moment. He then shook his head to clear his head of his fleeting annoyance. He was not a selfish person by any means. If she wants the thick blanket then she can have it.
He stood up to gather some twigs and fallen branches when Magdeline stopped him.
“Don’t,” she said. “All these things are too dead and dry to start a fire. Besides,” she took a look around them, “We don’t want to give away our locations to whatever’s out there.
Cyrus nodded as he put the wood down. It occurred to him that there was more to Magdeline than meets the eye. She knew how to survive in the forest. Very few people could say that—least of all a woman who seemed to be more vain and spoiled than resourceful.
Who was she?
She tucked herself into the blanket, curling her knees to her chest without saying a word.
“Good night,” Cyrus whispered too quietly for her to hear.
Chapter Two
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Water or Women
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MAGDELINE TWISTED IN her sleep. She could not find a restful spot where she lay on the forest floor. She could feel the rocks jutting through her flimsy mat. Her back and limbs were getting sore from all the tossing and turning. When she could no longer stand it, she kicked off her blanket in frustration and got up. For a moment she glared at the back of the deeply sleeping Cyrus. She secretly blamed him for her suffering—having not gotten her a more comfortable sleeping pack. She contemplated waking him and taking his mat to stack atop hers for more cushion. But she was not that cruel.
When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see that Cyrus had moved several feet away from his original spot on the ground. Magdeline could tell from his soft snores that he was deeply asleep, probably exhausted from their journey and most likely from trying to find a good spot away from Magdeline. She marveled at how he could stay sleep at all when he was lying on the bumpy terrain of roots and rocks.
But something other than the pain had woken her from her already troubled sleep, though. A tingle snaked down her spine, and the tiny hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. She surveyed the darkness around them, her mind still hazy with sleep. Then something… something in her peripheral vision caught her attention.
It was so dim, she could’ve missed it. A dull light pulsed in the distance, a slight break in the inky black. But before she could form a coherent thought, she was walking towards the source of the light. She wasn’t frightened; after all, she knew what was in the forest and this certainly wasn’t anything dangerous. She was sure of it.
Her steps made no noise. As she drew closer, the light was approaching her as well. Soon she could almost make out the outline of what it was—it was a horse. A shining white stallion to be specific. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Its coat shone so bright that it was luminescent against the black of the forest. It reminded Magdeline of her own hair.
It snorted softly and tossed its head, shaking its shimmering mane, and Magdeline felt a brief spray against her skin. It was a small horse, only barely taller than Magdeline herself. A feathered hoof pawed at the ground and its muzzle coming forward, nudging her shoulder, begging for a touch.
Magdeline stretched out her hand, mesmerized by the horse’s beauty. Its muzzle felt like velvet beneath her fingertips. The horse whinnied softly and drew back. From the way it stood it looked like it wanted Magdeline to follow it. With another whinny, it turned its back on her and started towards the depths of the forest, beckoning Magdeline to follow. And follow she did, all at once forgetting her companion man who remained sleeping soundly only few feet away.
She kept following the horse, wandering deeper and deeper into the depths of the forest. Magdeline wanted to be able to feel the velvet nose of the stallion but it always remained just out of the her reach. The air grew heavier as they walked on. Soon, Magdeline could feel the dampness of the ground seep through her slippers. But still, she didn’t care. She would have given up a hundred pairs of shoes just to touch the horse once more.
The Forest had turned into a swamp and the air was beginning to smell stale. She shadowed the horse’s every step so she wouldn’t fall into the murky water that crept along each side of their narrow path. The black water was indistinguishable from solid ground, if not for the ripples created by the stallion’s luminescent wake.
Suddenly, it stopped and turn
ed to look at her, meeting her gaze with piercing, soulless eyes. Magdeline shrank back for a moment before reaching out in an attempt to touch the creature. Its black eyes locked with hers and seemed to lure her in. Her fingers brushed against its back—its surface strangely cold and damp. The cold was what finally snapped her out of her trance. When she tried to move away, she found that she couldn’t.
Some invisible force held her hand frozen in place. The terrifying helplessness sent her into such a panic that she let out a bloodcurdling scream. The piercing sound scared the horse and it reared, knocking her off balance. She scrambled to get herself upright while she tried in vain to move her hand from its stasis. The horse shrieked as Magdeline slipped and slid on the damp swamp floor. She gazed in horror as something crept from her hand. The white coat of the horse was disappearing from where she touched it and the transition was like creeping vines which changed color from pearly white to a deep, deep green. The horse reared again and she could see its teeth as it screamed into the humid air. She hadn’t seen many horses in her life but Magdeline at least knew that they weren’t supposed to have fangs.
She screamed again and pulled with all her strength. At last her hand was freed but she tumbled into the freezing water below.
Cyrus bolted awake at the sound of a distant scream. His hand immediately went for his sword and he looked around for any signs of danger. The forest was too dark for him to see very far. He squinted in the direction of where he had last seen Magdeline’s sleeping pack. The blanket was crumpled at the foot of the pack and the mat itself was empty.