by Zel Spasov
Fraud wasn’t only capable of righteous anger. His intelligence and capacity for complex emotions made him a good diplomat.
“Your rebellion is doomed,” he said. “Doctor Dimitriou is only interested in Cayden’s safety. Give him to me and everything will be fine.”
“You have to give us your word that you won’t hurt him.”
“If you don’t open this door, so help me God!” Fraud's patience was exhausted. So much for his negotiation skills.
“You are condemned!” he said. “You’re all condemned!”
Charles took two steps back and raised his hands. “Let's just relax a little. We’ll continue the negotiations some other time.”
Instead of answering, Fraud banged on the door with his balled fists. He was joined by some orderlies who were hiding nearby. Their mighty rush stretched the cables tying the door handles. Charles flinched and jumped back, but the barricade endured—for now.
There was no sign of Persephone. She had certainly taken the kidnapping of Cayden personally. Charles suspected that the direct assault was just a diversion. The doctor was probably devising a plan to capture Cayden at this very moment. The real attack would come from elsewhere.
If Cayden was conscious, he would know what to do. He was still sitting comatose on the ground, with his back leaning against the wall. What was happening inside his head?
***
The red ribbon disappeared in the trees. After a while, it appeared again and vanished once more. Glimmers of red among the green of the forest revealed to Cayden the whereabouts of the strip. He ran after it, stretching out his hand to catch it. He was just about to grab it when it disappeared again, just to show up a few seconds later. Cayden was tired of the chase—he had been following the tape for an eternity. But he couldn’t stop; he had to keep running after it, or he would never catch it. His endless pursuit among the ancient trees wasn’t over.
There it was again! Cayden saw it dancing in the forest and ran after it. He extended his arm... a little more... it was right in front of his fingers...
A moment before catching it, he stumbled over a root and fell forward. But instead of falling to the ground, Cayden fell into a black abyss that opened under his feet and swallowed him up. His cry was muffled by the vast darkness surrounding him. All his senses were numb. He didn’t know whether he was falling for a few seconds or an eternity. He would never catch the ribbon. He would never be saved from the abyss. Cayden closed his eyes and surrendered to hopelessness.
A sudden gust of wind blew on his face. He opened his eyes. Beneath him, the earth approached rapidly. The collision with the ground knocked the wind out of him. Cayden rolled into a ball, wheezing. Eventually, his lungs received enough oxygen for him to get up on his feet.
A steep mountain towered above him. A military fortress was built on its top with dark clouds hanging over it. The red ribbon glinted from somewhere up the steep cliff. There was something wrong inside the fortress. Cayden felt it in his stomach.
The only way to the top was to climb up sharp rocks. He exhaled, rubbed his hands together, and started to ascend the mountain. It was tough, but he didn’t stop. After a while, he noticed that, no matter how far up he had climbed, the fortress was still far away. It started raining. The rocks became wet. He slipped, lost his grip, and fell to the ground.
***
Cayden woke up on the raft. The sun had already risen above the horizon, its rays blinding him. He held up his hand to cover his eyes. The sky was clear blue, and the river purled quietly. Trees fringed the riverbank.
His back ached from the sleeping on the rough wooden raft. His mouth was dry, and his stomach was empty. Charles was awake and staring at the river ahead, his ears facing forward.
“Where are we?” Cayden asked.
“We’ve almost arrived at our destination.”
“Windhaven?”
“No, we have to meet someone before that.”
“Who?”
“You'll see,” said the Rabbit.
Cayden’s whole body hurt from the experiences of the previous day. He dreamed of finding the nearest bed and sleeping for the next two days. He decided to stretch his legs. Cayden carefully took the little Sloth, who was still sleeping on his chest, and put him in his pocket, then stood on the raft and stretched out. His joints cracked.
Gradually, the sound of the river grew stronger, becoming a loud rumble. Cayden had to yell to make himself heard over the roar.
“What's that noise?” he asked.
“Rapids in the river!” Charles turned around and saw Cayden standing on the raft. “Are you crazy?!” he said. “Sit down and hold on tight!”
“What—” Cayden started to say, but was suddenly interrupted when the raft struck something and jumped into the air.
If he had been sitting and holding on tight, Cayden might’ve been able to hold on to the raft. But because he was standing, the collision shot him like a projectile a few meters in the air. Cayden splashed into the river, hit the bottom, and was instantly swept away by the strong current. His horror turned into dread as he realized he was caught in the rapids without a raft. The stream spun him around and bounced him off rocks. He didn’t know where up and down were any longer. Each time he tried to shout, his mouth filled with water.
His oxygen was running out. It was only a matter of time until he lost consciousness. The river would keep rolling him over until he drowned. The world turned black.
This is it, he thought. I’m going to die here. He was surprised to find that the thought brought him peace. As the cold water filled his lungs, he felt light. A heavy burden was lifted off his shoulders. Finally, he would be able to rest.
He caught a glimpse of the sun, its rays piercing the surface of the water. The red ribbon passed in front of the yellow ball, flickering in the darkness. When he reached out to grab it, it vanished, and a thick branch appeared in its place. Cayden’s fingers wrapped around it. A strong determination to survive gripped him. With difficulty, he pulled himself onto the muddy riverbank. He fell to his feet and hands, coughing up water until the liquid drained from his lungs. The pain in his chest was indescribable. His body burned, and the weight on his shoulders had doubled. Anger washed over him—the sweet rest he had hoped for had slipped through his fingers.
A slight movement inside his pocket startled him. He carefully took out the little Sloth and examined him for signs of life. The animal coughed up a little water. He opened his big eyes and looked at Cayden for a few seconds. Then he smiled and fell asleep again. His tummy rose and dropped quietly and rhythmically. Cayden waited for a minute or two to make sure the Sloth was all right, then put him back in his pocket.
In the meantime, Charles had tied the raft to the shore. His limbs trembled with fear, but relief shone in his eyes.
“Do you have a death wish or something?!” the Rabbit yelled. “You're lucky that branch was there, or the Sloth and you would’ve been dead.”
Cayden didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to reveal to the Rabbit that an imaginary red ribbon had saved him. He sat down on a large stone near a path leading into a dense forest, then stripped off his T-shirt and wrung it out. His body was covered with bruises and scratches, but fortunately they were nothing serious. He put his wet T-shirt back on. The day was warm, and he wasn’t worried about getting cold.
“Where the hell is this Windhaven of yours?” Cayden asked. The question sounded harsher than he intended. Lingering fury colored his words.
“Well, first we need to follow this path, but you need to know...” Charles began, but Cayden was already headed into the forest.
The path ribboned under a canopy of trees. Every now and again, beams of sunlight penetrated the thicket. The forest’s floor was covered by a thick layer of leaves. The road had many bends and curves, but Cayden didn’t pay any attention to where he was going, as he was angry and overwhelmed by the strong desire to get out of the woods. In his haste, he tripped and almost fell, but regain
ed his balance by leaning against a tree with his muddy hand. His palm left a dirty mark on the tree’s bark.
“Look, I really think you need to know—” Charles tried to say as he ran next to Cayden.
“I don’t care about what you think I need to know,” Cayden said.
“Yes, but—”
“Look here, buddy!” Cayden paused on the trail and waved his finger in front of the Rabbit’s face. “Whatever you have to tell me, I don’t care! All I want is to get out of this forest.”
“That's the problem. You can’t get out of the woods if you're trying to get out of the woods,” the Rabbit said.
“What?!”
“The only way to get out of the woods is if you aren’t trying to get out the woods.”
“This isn’t like the moon thing, is it?” Cayden asked, his voice filled with despair.
“I'm trying to tell you that you have to let go of what you want,” Charles said. “Otherwise, the forest won’t let you leave, and you will be doomed to wander here until you die.”
“Oh, so it's an enchanted forest, then?” Cayden bared his teeth. “Are you telling me that the forest has consciousness and, on top of that, can read thoughts?”
“These are the rules,” Charles said and shrugged.
“To hell with your rules! And to hell with this forest!” Cayden showed his middle finger to the trees. “Do you hear me?! I will find a way out of here without following your dumb, made-up rule!”
“But—” Charles tried to say again, but Cayden was already down the path. “We'll all die here,” Charles muttered, running after him.
Cayden was fuming. Everything in this hostile world was trying to kill him, including the goddamn forest. What had he done to deserve such hatred? What was his crime? If only he could remember...
As the distance between them and Agapea increased, the thumping in his head grew weaker. “Come to me…” Cayden could hear the voice coming from the ruby, Its power drawing him to Agapea like a moth to a flame. From time to time, Cayden looked in the direction of the city. Even amid the dense undergrowth, he knew where the city was located.
Little by little, Cayden’s rage was replaced by panic. Now they were deep in the forest, completely lost. Cayden stopped and looked around, but there was nothing he could use to figure out the right direction. He decided to follow the pulsation in his head toward Agapea. However, as he started walking in direction of the city, the feeling shifted. He turned toward it, but it shifted again. They ended up walking in circles and not making any progress whatsoever.
As panic turned into dread, Cayden found a big tree and leaned with his back on it. His breathing was shallow, and his heart was beating fast. Beads of sweat rolled down his face.
“Are you all right?” asked the Rabbit.
“I’m fine,” said Cayden, who now felt that his T-shirt was constricting him. The trees around him seemed closer than before, almost as if they had come alive and were trying to crush him. “I just need to rest for a little bit.”
An impending sense of doom overcame him. A loud crashing noise came from somewhere in the forest. Cayden followed it and soon started seeing broken glass and blood on the forest floor. A raindrop fell on his head, then another. A downpour came out of nothing. Cayden followed the broken glass, his ears still echoing with the noise of the loud crash. He felt his bones cracking, and he couldn’t catch his breath.
A sudden red flash among the trees startled Cayden. It couldn’t have been the Red Evil, he thought; the pulsation in his head was too weak and distant...
The red color appeared again. It was the red strip. Cayden sensed that it wanted to show him the way forward. He gathered his strength and ran after it. There! It appeared again behind a tree. He jumped, stretched out his hand in a desperate attempt to catch it...
Once more, it slipped away, and he fell face-first on the ground. A moment later, the Rabbit appeared beside him.
“I can’t believe it!” Charles said.
Cayden stood up and checked to see if the little Sloth was safe. The small beast was still sleeping soundly in his pocket, unscathed. As he cleaned the dirt from his clothes, Cayden said, “Look, if you're going to feed me one of your nonsense lines about letting go, then—”
“No,” Charles said, pointing forward with a paw. “Look!”
Cayden looked up. Somehow, they had come out of the woods and were now on the edge of a valley, a giant mountain towering over it.
“We made it!” Charles shouted. “This is the way to Windhaven! The fortress is situated on the top of that mountain. Come on, let’s go. We have a long way ahead.”
“We’re walking there?!” Cayden said with disbelief. There must be an easier way, he thought while rubbing his chin. He looked at the sun shining high in the sky. “Can’t your friend, the Sloth, grab the sun and take us up there after he wakes up? You know, like when we escaped from Agapea.”
“Are you crazy?” Charles said. “Don’t you know how hot the sun is? Besides, we’re not walking. We’ll be riding.”
The Rabbit pointed to a small silhouette in the distance. The figure belonged to a man with a straw hat, a white shirt, and suspenders, standing near a wagon full of hay. Two donkeys were harnessed in front.
“That's our transport,” Charles said. “Come on, follow me.”
As they approached the wagon, Charles asked, “Are you traveling to Windhaven?”
The man looked at them with squinted eyes. They must strike him as a strange group—a man and a rabbit, both dirty and wounded, with Cayden still wet from his adventure in the river.
“I’m Tony,” the man replied. “Are you the passengers?”
Charles nodded.
“Position yourself as you like,” said the man, nodding toward the cart.
There wasn’t much room for passengers because of all the hay. The couple sat on top of it, and the carriage started moving.
“What will happen when we get to Windhaven?” Cayden asked despite his unwillingness to participate in the Rabbit’s plan.
“I can’t tell you,” Charles replied. “It is essential that the plan remain a secret. We have an ally in the city who told us you were in Agapea’s dungeons. She is the one behind your liberation. Everything will become clear once we get there.”
The Rabbit's reluctance to share his plan with Cayden irritated him. He just wanted to meet with Queen Mira and find out about his past. He felt drawn to her, somewhat like he’d been drawn to the Red Evil, but something about this situation was different. He felt scared but, at the same time, excited. For now, however, he was just pleased that he didn’t have to run for his life. He took out the little Sloth, who was still sleeping calmly, and put him on his chest. He laid on the hay and closed his eyes. The sun warmed him pleasantly. Before he knew it, he had sunk into a deep sleep. His dreams wouldn’t have been so calm, though, if he’d known that the relentless headhunter, Monsieur Gèroux, was at their heels.
***
Monsieur Gèroux headed east along the Toska River. At some point, the fugitives had to get off the raft and continue on foot to Windhaven, as the river turned to the south. Once he found the place where they’d moored, the hunter would follow their trail.
Anna's words were etched in his mind: “Stay. Just for tonight.” He wondered what the cubs were doing this morning. He imagined their crestfallen faces as they sat at the table for breakfast. He was angry at himself; he’d failed as a father and a headhunter. If he captured the human, everything would change. His life would no longer be composed solely of suffering. The sun rose behind him, reminding him that the clock was ticking. He hastened his pace.
After a while, he came to a forest. There, he noticed a raft sitting on the riverbank. The grass beside it was flattened in a circular shape, as if someone had been lying on it. In the mud were two pairs of prints. Judging by their size and the distance between the steps, one of them belonged to a human. The footprint was large and pointed slightly outward, as was typical of m
ale prints. It was indented more in the heel, as people walk heel to toe. If they had been trying to trick the wolf, the fugitives would have made a trail and then walked backward, which would have caused the toe to be more indented. Such traces were missing here.
The other prints were certainly not human. These traces were made by a small and light body, as the indents in the soil weren't deep. Also, the tracks of both feet were always side by side, which was indicative of jumping. Considering their shape and size, the hunter assumed it was a rabbit.
He followed the trail into the woods.
Tracking there would be harder. The foliage on the ground covered the tracks. The wolf searched for overturned leaves that would tell him where the fugitives had gone. Because of the moisture that formed under them, the leaves were darker underneath. Anyone passing through would have disturbed the leaves with their footsteps, revealing the leaves’ darker sides. If that had happened more than three or four hours ago, the leaves would have dried and grown much harder to notice. He was sure the criminals couldn’t be more than a couple of hours away, though, meaning that the overturned leaves should have kept their dark color. The sun would help him, too, where it penetrated through the dense canopy of the trees: the leaves turned on their side would cast a larger shadow than the others, making them more noticeable.
At the very beginning, the wolf encountered a muddy handprint on the bark of a tree. After they had landed on the riverbank, the fugitives had covered themselves in mud. Whenever they had touched a tree or a leaf, they had left a stain. Those spots were like large arrows pointing the wolf in the right direction. It didn’t take long before he saw the first disturbed leaves. He cleared them, and footprints appeared underneath. The human had walked through here. Bernard was sure that the Rabbit's trails were also nearby.
His blood boiled. He was hot on their trail. Just a little closer, and he would be able to smell them. The wolf continued forward, following the overturned leaves.
Sometimes the tracks weren’t covered by the foliage, and he found them easily. At one point, finding them became so easy that he wondered if it was a trap. Most of the tracks weren’t even covered by leaves anymore. Here, this one, for example. It was probably just his imagination, but its location reminded him of a footprint he’d found earlier. A little down the path, he saw a muddy handprint on the bark of a tree. Even before he’d approached it to examine it, he was certain that it was the same muddy handprint he'd encountered at the beginning of the path. The tracks were going in circles.