“Hey.” Petari grabbed Arrow’s arm, stopping him before he walked through the trees. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them about the Guardian. Not yet, okay?”
Arrow glared at her. “Because they won’t believe me, like you didn’t?”
Petari shrugged. “We’ll just tell them at the right time. Trust me.”
I didn’t. I hoped Arrow didn’t either.
The rest of the herd were crowded around Storma and Luco when Arrow and Petari trod into the village. My attention had been on my boy and the girl, but now I noticed the thickness of worry and anger around the rest of the herd.
“What’s going on?” Petari asked as they got closer.
Val turned quickly. “Where have you been?” He glanced at Arrow, brows furrowed, but quickly swept his eyes back to his sister.
“I told you in the note. We went to find more food.” She lifted her laden backpack as Arrow placed what was in his arms on the ground. “Got a heap of it.”
“You better have,” Storma said. “We’re going to need it.”
“Why? What’s happened?” Petari asked.
Luco straightened. “Safa and me just got back from the Stilts.”
“The Stilts?” Arrow stepped forward. He was as eager as I was to learn more. Perhaps there would be word of the magic.
Luco continued. “Jom wasn’t there. No one was.”
“Who’s Jom?” Arrow asked.
“My contact,” said Luco. “His family works in the Stilts, so they’ve got permits to be there. He smuggles out food and other supplies for us.”
“They never miss the meetings,” Storma said, crossing her arms. “When they haven’t been able to get food out in the past, they’ve still made the meeting to explain.”
“Not this time,” Safa said.
“What happened to them?” Petari asked.
Luco shook his head. “It can’t be anything good.”
“Unless they sold us out.” Storma’s voice was icy.
“Jom wouldn’t do that. Not for anything.” Luco shifted his weight, and I recognized something else around him—streams of icy fear. “We tried to get into the Stilts ourselves through one of the back ways, but everything’s closed up. It’s like they’ve locked down the entire city and they’re not letting anyone in or out.”
Arrow stiffened.
“You tried every back way? The sewer’s never too secure.” This was Mercou, who held Ruthie in his arms.
Luco nodded. “That was the first place we tried. Then the old pipes by the dried-up river. Then the holes in the wall. All of them were closed off or had so much security, a rat couldn’t scurry by.”
“What does this mean?” Arrow asked.
The humans glanced at one another; then Storma spoke up. “It means the people in the Stilts are greedier than ever.”
Anxiety swarmed around Arrow. “So we can’t go there? We can’t get in?”
Luco shook his head.
Arrow glanced at Petari. If they couldn’t get into the Stilts, they couldn’t get to the magic. They couldn’t save the forest.
“But you promised.” Arrow turned back to Luco. “I help you get food and show you how to be safe in the forest, and you get me to the Stilts. That was the deal.”
“No one promised anything.” Storma gave a dry laugh. “Things don’t turn out the way you want all the time. You haven’t learned that yet?”
“But I have to go. You have to try again,” Arrow said. “The Guardian needs it.”
“Who’s the Guardian?” Storma’s voice rang out strong, and a hush fell over all the humans.
Petari froze. Arrow’s eyes widened. His cold, sticky fear sank into the ground beneath him.
He had let out a secret.
Arrow looked at the herd. They were glowering at him now as someone they didn’t know. Someone they couldn’t trust.
Storma stepped forward, suspicion carved into her face. “You told us you lived here alone.”
“He does—” Petari started, forcefully, but Val grabbed her arm and tugged her back.
Storma’s eyes didn’t leave Arrow. “If you live here alone, who’s the Guardian?”
Arrow focused on the ground. He was probably trying to decide what to tell them. Petari hadn’t believed him when he had told her about me. How would this group react? And how could he stop them from coming to find me, from coming south into the heart of the forest? These questions raced through me as well.
“Is there another group here?” Luco asked. “Is that why you don’t want us to go anywhere?”
“We should find them before they attack us,” Safa said. Agreement was murmured throughout the herd.
“Yeah. Maybe they’ve got batteries,” Delora said.
“And more spam,” Rosaman said.
“Maybe they’re not the sharing types,” Mercou said.
“We’ll protect ourselves like we do in the Barbs.” Storma turned on Arrow. “Where are they? Where’s your little group hiding?”
Arrow shook his head quickly. “No! You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly.” Storma’s eyes bored into the boy. “You were a spy all along.”
“That’s not true,” Petari shouted. “He—”
“Be quiet, Petari.” Luco glared at her.
“Yeah,” Val said, holding on to Petari’s wrist. “You brought him here. This is your fault.”
“But—” Petari squirmed in her brother’s grip.
“There aren’t any other humans in the forest,” Arrow insisted. “I’m not what you said.”
“Humans?” Rosaman echoed. “Who does he think he is?”
“Maybe he’s an alien,” said Faive.
“Whatever he is, he’s not one of us,” said Delora.
Twisted sadness sank from Arrow. He had joined them to get information about the magic, but I knew that being accepted by them the night before had begun to fill the hole inside him that I never could. But now…
“He’s just a traitor, that’s what he is.” Safa spat on the ground in front of Arrow. “If his group comes here, we’ll tear them apart.”
“Yeah. Tear them apart!” said Delora.
“EEEE!” The shriek pierced the sky, drawing the attention of the herd.
“What the—” said Mercou, but Arrow knew immediately what had made the sound.
“CURLY!” He ran toward the cry. It had come from the tall grasses between the herd and the tree line. “Curly!” Arrow dashed from side to side until he found the monkey curled around her paw. She was whimpering, and the ground was stained with red splotches.
“What happened?” Arrow knelt down next to her. He slid his right hand under Curly’s back and the tip of his arrow arm under her head, then carefully tucked the monkey into the crook of his left elbow.
The herd crowded around, even Luco, Storma, and Val.
“It’s a monkey,” Mercou said.
Petari gasped. “Curly! This is Arrow’s friend.”
“You’re friends with a monkey?” Faive asked.
“Even weirder,” Rosaman said.
“Is that blood?” Delora pointed to the specks of red on the ground.
Curly whined, and Arrow gently examined her paw. A gash was open in its side. “Oh no, Curly,” Arrow said. “Petari, get the blood leaves.”
Petari ran to the hut, where she’d stored the samples she had collected. A few breaths later she was back with the leaves.
“Here,” Arrow said when she knelt beside him. “Take her.”
Arrow gritted his teeth as he guided Curly onto Petari’s open palms. She accepted the monkey into her hands, and Arrow pressed the leaves onto the cut. Curly shrieked and the others backed away.
“Come on, Curly. It’s okay.” Arrow smiled at her, tears clouding his eyes. He tore the leaves into strips with his teeth, then, holding the ends down with his elbow, wrapped them gently around the paw. He kept up the pressure until the bleeding stopped.
“How did this happen?” Arrow lo
oked around and spotted a glint in the grass. The sliced-off top of a red-and-white can lay on the ground, its edges sharp. “What is this doing here?”
“It’s just a can.” Delora shrugged.
“It doesn’t belong on the ground.” Standing, Arrow gazed over the open field and saw more glints in the sun. “They’re everywhere.”
“What’s the big deal?” Rosaman said.
I was right that these humans couldn’t be trusted to protect the forest.
“Maybe the monkey should wear shoes,” Delora said.
This brought laughter from the herd, all except Petari and Val.
“I’m sure your monkey friend’s going to be just fine,” Storma said. “Now tell us where we can find this Guardian.”
Anger arched out from Arrow. “The Guardian isn’t a human. She’s the mother tree of the forest. She warned me not to trust you, and she was right!”
My roots froze. He had told them about me. I was sure they’d have the same reaction as Petari. I couldn’t waste Anima convincing them. It would not be worth it.
“A tree?” Storma asked. “What do you mean ‘a tree’?”
“Are you kidding?” Safa turned to the rest of the herd. “Is he kidding? Did he just say he talks to a tree?”
Laughter rose up from the herd, louder and louder. So loud, it scared the parrots in the tree line. They flew away in a flurry.
Fresh tears sprang into Arrow’s eyes. He leaned down and pulled Curly from Petari’s hands.
“Are there fairies in the forest too?” Delora asked, igniting the laughter again.
“What about trolls?” said Rosaman. “Or goblins? Or gremlins?”
Their high-pitched squeals of laughter raced around Arrow, sharp and pointed.
He backed away, Curly crying softly in his hands.
“Stop!” Petari shouted to the herd, but no one paid her any attention.
“Maybe the animals talk to him too,” Mercou said, tears from laughter running across his cheeks. “Can you ask them to get us some food?”
Arrow stepped back.
Back.
Back.
And ran.
He ran for the trees that bordered the village.
“Arrow!” Petari called out. Her footsteps followed, but Val pulled her back.
“Let him go,” her brother said.
Petari shook her arm from his grip and shouted, “Arrow, come back!”
But the boy was gone. He fled through the trees, across the root bridge, and into the thick forest on the other side. When they got back to me, Arrow collapsed among my roots.
“I’ve failed,” he said. “I thought they’d help me, but they won’t. They’re making the village dangerous and don’t even care. Now I’ve told them about you, Curly’s hurt, and all the time I was trying to help those horrible humans, I could’ve been stopping the rainbow liquid.”
“Curly will heal,” I told him as he gently brought the monkey up to his nest in a carrying hammock. That was the only thing I was sure of, even though I couldn’t be sure of the future of Curly’s and our home. I wished I could tell Arrow that everything would be all right, but at this point, I could only hope nothing would get worse before we could mend the Anima.
Arrow rubbed Curly’s head gently, and the monkey nuzzled his hand. “I shouldn’t have helped them.”
Tears streamed down his face. So much disappointment and hurt wrapped around him.
How I wished he had listened to me. I should have been more forceful. I should not have let hope for humans sway me. All the humans from that outside world were the same. Liars who care only for themselves, just like the Imposters.
“All of the humans are bad, aren’t they? All of my kind.”
“Those humans are bad, Arrow. The Imposters, the humans from the outside world. Now you know why I’ve been saying we can’t trust them.” My roots curled. “But the Forest Dwellers were good. You are good. And…” I hated to admit what I was about to say, but it was the truth. “Petari did stand up for you. She might have good within her.”
“Petari’s no different. She’s one of them.” Arrow wiped his eyes. “But you’re right about the Forest Dwellers. And since they were good, that has to mean that not all humans are bad. We just have to find the good ones.”
He reached into the fold of the nest where he had hidden the golden disc and pulled it out, rubbing the rough surface.
“The Kiskadee Man didn’t do anything bad when he was here,” Arrow said, hope circling him.
“He wasn’t in the forest long enough. He would’ve been just like the herd. I’m sure.”
“No.” Arrow shook his head. “I saved his life. He’d be thankful. He’d see that we’re good and want to help us, like the Forest Dwellers.”
I didn’t answer. I had been suspicious of the herd, and I was proved right. I longed for humans like the Forest Dwellers, but I didn’t know if I’d ever find them again. If the Kiskadee Man was like all the other humans from the north, the best way he could thank Arrow was to not return. If only I could’ve fully plugged the rips in the curtain where the plane had crashed through before.
Arrow put the golden disc into his pocket, then laid Curly gently in the crook of the nest and climbed out. “Look after Curly, Guardian. I’ll go and stop the metal bird from bleeding, then come back. We’ll come up with a new plan, won’t we?”
That was my boy, always seeing the sun. “We will,” I told him. I hoped I was right.
Sadness trailing after him, Arrow scaled my branches and journeyed to the Burnt Circle. The rainbow liquid had drenched the soil there, and Arrow worried as he gathered more sap to plug the hole. No matter how much he placed over the wound, though, it quickly dappled with the rainbow liquid again.
Arrow sat back on his heels, glaring at the bird, at the Burnt Circle, at the rainbow-colored stain in the soil. Despair flooded from him, but then he stood up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the golden disc. Hurrying over to the metal bird, he placed it over the hole. The disc covered the wound. Arrow collected more sap, but this time he used the substance to stick the disc over the bleeding part of the bird. He waited, waited, waited, but no more liquid came out. Good boy. The soil was still soaked, but at least the danger would grow no more. Worry swirled around Arrow, but he had done all he could do, so he journeyed back to me.
“I don’t know how long it will hold. Keep watching it,” he said as he climbed back into the nest. “How’s Curly?” He had brought the monkey some bananas.
“Sleeping, but she’ll enjoy those when she wakes up. You should rest too, Arrow. It has been a long day.”
He curled around his small friend, stroking her soft black fur, and nodded. “We can wish for a better tomorrow, Guardian.”
“Yes, a better tomorrow.”
Reaching out to the root network, I monitored the Burnt Circle to the south and the herd to the north. Arrow was right about one thing: We needed help. The forest was in danger, but we were still no closer to mending the Anima.
I didn’t know if any answers would present themselves after the moon had gone and the sun returned. Arrow hadn’t failed, I had. I had put too much on his small shoulders. And now, with the forest dying and the magic disappearing faster, I began to lose sight of the possibility of us saving it. Perhaps this was an end. Perhaps there was no help. Perhaps I had lost us our home.
But, as the sun peeked over the horizon, Arrow woke with a start. A familiar sound rocketed through the canopy of the forest.
Thrum.
Thrum.
Thrum.
17
ON A ROCK IN A CLEARING NEAR THE ROOT BRIDGE, A BROMELIAD STRETCHED OUT IN THE MORNING SUN, ITS STIFF PETALS CATCHING EACH RAY. SUDDENLY ONE ROOT PULLED AWAY FROM THE GROUND AND CURLED UP TIGHT. ANOTHER FOLLOWED. AND ANOTHER. UNTIL THE WHOLE PLANT WAS PARCHED.
The thrum was only a far-off tickle in Arrow’s ears, but its disturbance might as well have been thunder overhead. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked in
the direction of the noise.
The sky through the leaves was a pale gray with a bright yellow center, but he couldn’t see the metal frog. Not yet.
He scrambled to higher branches and peered out over the leaves. “There! They’re coming back.”
I had feared they would. But whether they would be like the Forest Dwellers, the Imposters, or the herd, I did not know.
“It’s just like you said.” Arrow started to climb down.
“What do you mean?”
“You said the answer would come in the morning, and look… the Kiskadee Man is coming back.” Arrow grinned.
“That is not what I meant.” And yet, the Forest Dwellers had talked of getting answers in dreams. Could I have been wrong about the Kiskadee Man? Was he the answer Arrow had asked for?
“He’ll mend the Anima,” Arrow said as he climbed back down. “He’s not a kid like the herd. He’s older, like the Forest Dwellers. He knows things. He can fly! He will bring the magic from the Stilts and fix everything. I know he will.” He jumped onto the ground.
“You must listen to me, Arrow.”
“I know I was wrong before, but I’ll be more careful this time. I’ll watch and learn.” His feet were already hurrying south. “It’s going to be different. It has to be. Look after Curly.” He ran to the kapok tree, swung his belt around the liana, and slid off toward the Burnt Circle.
He was hidden in a tree before the wind picked up. Leaves and twigs battered his face, but he held on tight. The Thrum, Thrum, Thrum was louder now, and Arrow could see the machine hovering in the sky above him. It was another bullfrog, larger than the bird that had crashed. Holes were cut into its puffed-out belly, just like the metal bullfrog that had rescued the Kiskadee Man.
It screamed as it lowered, and the monkeys around Arrow scattered into the forest with their own screeches. But Arrow stayed.
Eyes squinting against the dust and ash swirling around him, Arrow watched as the bullfrog got lower and lower, bigger and bigger. Shouts came over the THRUM, THRUM, THRUM, and the bullfrog shifted forward and back, twisting until its long tail wouldn’t catch on a tree. Finally it touched down with a THWUMP, and what was left of the ash on the ground flew up, covering the Burnt Circle in a thick cloud that was quickly dispatched into the forest by the giant arms rotating over the bullfrog’s back.
Arrow Page 13