Talon the Black

by Melissa Mitchell

  They soon passed beyond the trunks of the first trees, which were not nearly as thick as those that followed. Each grew larger than its predecessor. At first, the growth around them was sparse, but the density of greenery soon increased. Within minutes they could no longer see the light from where they had entered, but neither were they in complete darkness. A beautiful blue glow permeated their surroundings. It was as if the air itself provided the illumination they needed. And the forest was very much alive.

  A smile crept across her face, tugging at the corners of her lips. Happiness in the form of tingles was first felt in her fingertips and toes, before making its way up her arms and legs, until finally, joy reached her heart. The nagging pain she experienced for the last two days was hardly noticeable. What was this magical place? Why did it have such an effect upon her?

  The others didn’t share such sentiments. All three of her companions displayed their tension as it rolled off them in waves. “I don’t like this place at all,” Jovari whispered not long after entering, to which Koldis replied, “Only a mad man would.” She held her tongue.

  On and on they walked for what seemed like hours. She remained enamored by everything, finding each sight more enchanting than the last. The forest floor was no longer grassy, but covered in a blanket of foliage. Creeping vines ejected themselves from the bushes and shrubbery growing up around the numerous tree hosts. The flora was home to numerous firefly-like bugs, which blinked and flickered, making the undergrowth look possessed.

  She gazed up at the vines twisting around the enormous trunks of the trees. These vines fused so thickly about their holds that they could easily be climbed like ladders. But to where? When she craned her neck back to see them better, their tendrils seemed to vanish, reaching into the sky. She couldn’t help but feel a little like Alice in Wonderland after drinking a shrinking potion.

  The sounds that met her ears were just as bewitching. Although she could not see the many sources, birds chirped, bugs buzzed, and even a faint trickling of water could be heard. The cacophony of noise created a lovely backdrop to the fairy-like world she now found herself in—one she wished to remain in forever.

  Finally, after what seemed like ages of limping, she spoke, careful to keep her voice low, “How much longer?” It wasn’t that she was impatient, she was merely eager to see Esterpine.

  “I do not know,” Reyr replied. “I thought perhaps we might have arrived by now.”

  “You don’t know?” she asked as her eyebrows scrunched together. “But don’t you know where you are going?” They had been following Reyr the whole time.

  “Hardly.”

  She turned to Jovari and Koldis. They looked as lost as Reyr. “If you ask me,” Koldis said pointing at a large knobby trunk knarred with age. “I would say we have seen that tree four times already and are simply traveling in circles.”

  “The rumors of travelers losing themselves in the Gable are well founded.” Jovari stopped in his tracks as he spoke. “We should never have come here, Reyr.”

  “What does he mean?” she asked, turning to Reyr.

  “The Sprites guard their secrets jealously,” Reyr answered, his voice hushed. “It is said that the Gable Forest is bewitched. The trees themselves have minds of their own.” She glanced around at the giants, wondering if it was true. Somehow, the concept wasn’t impossible to believe. “The forest moves and reforms to ensnare its victims. They made it so humans cannot hope to navigate it. Few make it out alive. Those who do are babbling with madness by the time they emerge.”

  Babbling with madness? Was it really that bad? “Why did we come here then?” she hissed into the silence. “Just because of my leg?”

  “We had to come regardless,” Reyr said, throwing Jovari a hard look for instigating the topic. “Traveling around the forest would have left us exposed to the Vodar. They will not venture into the midst of the Gable.”

  “Well, now we may be lost in here forever,” Jovari muttered.

  “Cyrus found his way through, didn’t—”

  “Cyrus sent word to the Sprite queen before arriving.” Koldis cut her off and she scowled at him for it. “He was given an emissary to guide him, else he would have been just as lost as we are now.”

  “Oh…” she felt the word die on her lips just as a monstrous crash echoed all round them.

  “Quick, hide!” Reyr whispered. The others rushed away while she stood frozen, glancing about for the source of the ruckus. A hand closed around her forearm. Reyr pulled her away. The four of them rushed to a nearby tree, pushing themselves into the vines of its undergrowth. They retreated just in the nick of time.

  Thundering through the forest came something that strangled the air from her lungs. The creature did not notice them as it went past. She watched it with an open mouth.

  The body of this being was tall and tree-like, but it was no tree. It was made entirely of wriggling worm-like tree roots, which snaked down its waist creating a trunk-like appearance at its lower half. These roots connected themselves to the ground and seemed to crawl and slither along as it moved. That was why it rumbled: The earth had to break away from the roots as they reattached themselves to new dirt. There were also roots flowing out behind its back and head like streamers on a kite. These fluttered around too, looking for somewhere to attach themselves.

  In the creature’s hands, it held glowing blue orbs that threw off illumination identical to what filled the world around them. This blue glow sparked and flickered like blue fire. The being carried the substance with care, like a gardener carries its little plant-lings, devoting its focus to the task at hand.

  “What is it?” she whispered in awe. The others were silent for a time. At last Reyr answered. “I have heard stories of the Root Men. I never imagined them to exist.”

  “Root Men?”

  “Aye. The Root Men tend the forest. Very little is known about them. And that is not their true name either, but I do not know the Sprite name for them.”

  “Simeík…” she whispered, and then she frowned.

  “What did you say?” Reyr turned to her, his brows drawn.

  “I—I don’t know…” And in truth, she didn’t. She could not have repeated the word had she tried. It fled her memory as quickly as it had come, leaving her increasingly afraid of herself.

  Their focus returned to the strange spectacle before them. At last, the Root Man’s clamor retreated into the distance, and all the normal sounds of the forest returned. Only then did they climb from their hiding place.

  “We should turn back,” Koldis said.

  “No. We must go forward.” Reyr maintained his stance: Through the forest was the only way for them to proceed. The three of them began arguing and continued to do so until she could no longer bear it.

  She stepped forward. “I think we should go this way.” She pointed. “Yes, the way is through these trees here.” A pair of large trunks to her left looked particularly inviting. While she did not truly know the way, her suggestion was as good as any.

  The Drengr turned to her.

  “She will get us more lost than you have, Reyr,” said Koldis.

  “Just trust me, okay?” The more she reasoned with them, the more sure of herself she became. “I know you have little trust to give me, but I’ll get us there, I promise. The forest doesn’t scare me like it does you. That clouds your ability to find the way. I know the way. It is just there.” She pointed again in the same direction, this time certain that she was right.

  “You are not simply saying this?” Reyr asked.

  “No. This is the way.”

  “Very well. We will follow you.”

  Her eyes widened, but she quickly hid her surprise. Jovari and Koldis looked furious, but they knew better than to continue the argument. She was determined to prove them wrong. Taking a deep breath and trusting her instincts, she began limping her way to where she believed Esterpine was. The other three followed.

  She let the sounds of the forest guide her
, doing her best to connect with her surroundings. Sometimes she allowed her fingertips to graze the bark of a nearby tree or caress the dangling vines that hung about them like veils. Reyr had been correct: There was a sentient awareness in everything she touched, as if every growing thing in the forest had a mind of its own. When she quieted her own mind just enough, she almost heard them whispering to her. The idea was insane, and most times her eyes flew open so that she could laugh at the absurdity of it. Plants didn’t possess elevated consciousness. It was silly.

  Why then was she finding the way? Not long after they set out, she noticed that their feet discovered a well-worn foot path. Just to make a point, she turned back to her Drengr companions and gave them an ‘I told you so’ look. Reyr merely shrugged. The other two ignored her completely.

  She continued upon this path, following it as it twisted and wound its way through the forest. Soon after, she felt eyes upon her and became very much aware that others were watching them. Although she tried, she could not find the source of this scrutiny. She pressed on, and the further they went, the more the signs of civilization began showing themselves.

  Perhaps the others had not noticed, but she had. There were well-disguised statues covered in ivy placed throughout the eucalyptus, oak, and sycamore trees that grew in this part of the Gable Forest. Each was posing, but they all pointed in the direction she was heading, as if leading her where she needed to go. She took this as a good omen.

  Then, she saw something that stole her breath and planted wonder into her heart. A massive gate-like structure jutted out of the earth rising above her. She stopped dead in her tracks and felt Jovari, Koldis, and Reyr collide with her back.

  This gate was unlike anything she had ever seen. Aside from its sheer size and the fact that it was taller than the tallest sequoia tree Discovery Channel had to offer, this one was made entirely of roots and trees. The posts were the trees, each manicured and grown to the same cylindrical diameter, stretching up into the ceiling of the forest. And in between these posts, elaborate roots grew, twisting in spiraled patterns. Some designs took on the shapes of strange symbols.

  In the middle was a vast doorway: Two trees were bent together at their tops to form a perfectly symmetrical arched curve. Above this, the posts mimicked the same arched pattern jutting straight up and allowing their tops to bow and take form. In between, roots filled in the empty spaces with more elaborate configurations.

  Everywhere around them the scent of pine filled the air, reminding her of Christmas. This was it. This was Esterpine. They had finally made it. It felt like coming home.

  27

  Esterpine

  Claire trailed behind an envoy sent to escort them into the city. This envoy appeared shortly after their arrival at the large gate. He almost startled them all as they gazed upwards.

  “The Queen bids you welcome,” he announced when their eyes remained transfixed. It was unclear how long he stood there watching them, waiting to be noticed. It was only upon hearing him that Claire brought her gaze down and gasped. This Sprite was not at all what she had expected. His midnight blue hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck. He wore nothing but a loin cloth and a sword, displaying luminescent markings that swirled and twisted across his pale skin. These elegant tattoos arranged themselves in all sorts of patterns, some similar to what she had seen across the walls of the gated doorway. A few crept up to his face, which was angularly shaped, framing two almond-shaped eyes, one blue and one green (the same shade of green as her own).

  “My queen is most eager to meet you,” he said, looking directly at Claire instead of the others. “Come, I am to bring you to her.”

  She quickly closed her mouth when she realized she was gawking.

  “This way,” he added.

  She nodded, forcing her feet to take their first few steps. Jovari, Koldis, and Reyr said nothing as they followed behind her. She merely gave them a quick backward glance to ensure that they kept up, then she returned her focus to the curiosities of the forest Sprite.

  As he led them, she continued to watch him with wonder. He was far taller than was normal for a human, and he moved with effortless grace as his feet found all the correct places to step. Not a single sound came from his motions. Her companions on the other hand were louder. The dead foliage beneath their feet crunched noisily.

  Her eyes closed briefly and reopened, expecting to see nothing more than corn fields, but the Sprite was still there leading the way. The forest whispered around her, sending comforting thoughts. Everything was just as real as it had been moments before.

  This place was difficult to fathom. Things like this simply didn’t happen. Had she merely fallen asleep reading one of her many books? After everything that had happened, this was the first time she really questioned her surroundings and her sanity.

  The span of a few weeks was such a short time to digest the many incomprehensible things that had happened. When she saw Cyrus fall from the sky, she didn’t believe it. Dragons? Impossible. When she witnessed the Drengr shift, she thought she had seen everything magical that could possibly exist. But this? This forest was beyond comprehension. The Sprites who lived within were merely an extension of the vast ecosystem. Nothing was clearer as she watched her guide’s markings pulse and glow brighter with each tree he recognized and every flower that greeted him.

  Realizing the opportunity before her, she increased the pace of her limp, ignoring the fresh wave of pain it brought, and caught up with him. Just as she did, more Sprites appeared. Each was similar to the one leading them, but subtle differences were obvious. Very few had blue hair, for instance. Yet they all had markings.

  “Are your tattoos real?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. What she really meant was, did he put them on his body, or were they something he was born with.

  “My tattoos?” His voice was rich and musical.

  “I mean your markings,” she said. More and more Sprites could be seen wondering the forest paths now. They all stopped to stare at the strangers moving through their midst.

  “My markings are as real as the eyes I see with, or the feet I walk on.”

  She frowned.

  “My markings are my identity. They are evidence of what I am. I am a Sprite of the forest. All Sprites bear their identity proudly.”

  “How do you get them to glow like that?”

  “They glow of their own accord.”

  He seemed fond of short answers, and reluctant to give even that. So she slowed her pace and fell behind, gazing once more upon her surroundings. Only then did she notice the little houses that had materialized. These were not like normal houses, nor were they like the earthen cottages one might expect in a forest. They were adaptations to the world in which the Sprites lived.

  The trees in this part of the woodland had grown monstrous, their ominous branches cascading up towards the roof of the forest, covered with thick layers of moss. The root systems beneath these trees were so great, they lifted the trunks high off the ground like stilts. Glass dwellings had been built beneath them, the sheets of which were shaped to fill in the empty spaces between the roots, almost like soap bubbles. Each tree looked as though it had a glittering tree skirt at its base.

  Within these lodgings, Claire noticed many common household items like tables, chairs, and book shelves. Uncommon were the hanging decorations from the root ceilings. Gemstones and crystals the size of baseballs dangled on vines in various shapes and colors, glowing and glittering like ornaments.

  Distracted by these displays, she didn’t immediately notice the spiraling staircases carved into the sides of the trees. These twisted around and around until they were lost in the blue floating mists above. It left her to wonder, where did they go? What lay at the end of each ascent?

  As they moved along, more and more glass houses sprang into existence until the city materialized before them. She could hear her companions whispering loudly behind her. Perhaps they we
re as beguiled as she. Although, from the tone of their lowered voices, it sounded as if they weren’t eager to be here. She, on the other hand, loved this place.

  The city was full of sparkle. To act as lights, glowing orbs decorated the world around them. Some were recessed into the knots of grizzled trees, others hung from poles along the walkways like lanterns. Some even floated without assistance, defying the laws of gravity. Most were yellow, but a few took on other colors like pink, blue, purple, and green.

  Sprites emerged from their glittering homes to point and whisper. How often did strangers find themselves here? Given their reactions, it was a rare occurrence.

  Nearly every Sprite had the same markings but in different patterns. However, Claire was shocked when she saw their children. Though they were few, these younger beings had no markings at all! They looked nearly human, with the exception of their pointed faces and otherworldly beauty.

  She tried not to gawk at her surroundings, but gawking became impossible the moment she spotted her first unicorn. She stopped dead in her tracks. The majestic animal wandered freely across the narrow dirt pathways. Its silky white coat shimmered like a pearl as it caught the light. Flowing behind it, its pure white mane fluttered in the gentle breeze.

  “Wow,” she whispered. Perhaps it heard her, or maybe it sensed her amazement, because the unicorn stopped and turned its head to look at her. For a brief instant, their gazes locked. She felt as though she were floating on air.

  Instinct guided her. She reached a hand out to invite the unicorn over. Silently, she begged it to come, hoping with all her might that it would. To her utter delight, the unicorn did. It trotted over to her, and then placed its nose against her open palm, nuzzling her gently. The velvety fuzz upon its skin was softer than any horse.

  The exchange was brief, merely meant as a welcome. Before she knew it, the beauty was trotting off into the mist. She watched it go, sad to see it leave. A moment later, she felt a gentle nudge from behind as Reyr reminded her that they were supposed to be following their guide.