Stolen Tongues

by Felix Blackwell

  “What are you talking about?” I pressed. “See what?”

  “Everything. The other stuff. The shit we don’t believe.”

  I dropped into a chair at the kitchen table.

  “I still have trouble with it,” I said. “Like I’m gonna wake up and it was all just a dream. Ghosts don’t exist. They can’t.”

  Static hissed from the phone, then Colin’s voice filtered through it.

  “After last night, I think I’m willing to believe.” He paused for a moment, trying to collect himself. “Allison left the day before yesterday. So it was just me and Tyler at your place. I stayed up late to get some work done – and maybe because I was a little afraid that Faye would stab us to death in our sleep and burn down the house.”

  “Dude.”

  “You weren’t bullshitting, though. Around midnight I heard a little kid making noise outside, so I went out there to check. I circled the house before I realized the sounds were coming from your bedroom window. So I went up and woke Tyler, and we stood outside the bedroom door. I’ve never been so creeped out, dude. I swear there was a child in that bedroom, singing and talking real slow like she was drunk. I swear I heard it.”

  “What did she say?” I asked.

  “Couldn’t make out the words,” Colin replied. “Sounded like gibberish. Maybe, ‘saw me undo’ or something. Sang it like a lullaby. So we knocked on the door and asked who was in there, and I distinctly heard the kid say ‘shhhh’ and then mumble something. Tyler pushed open the door, and there she was, standing in a corner facing the wall.”

  “Wait, there was a kid in there?”

  “No,” Colin said. “It was Faye. She was lifting up the framed photos, lookin’ behind them. She said there were little windows back there, and that’s where he gets in.”

  A faint nausea burbled within me. Years ago, Faye had moved paintings and portraits off the walls, claiming that there were things hidden behind them. It was as if the Impostor could read her memories and use them against her.

  “She said something like, ‘Oh, their skin is so perfect, which one, which one, put him down in the hole.’ So I went over and gave her a little shake. She spun around and covered her mouth with her hands, and started talking in the voice of a little girl. Same one as before. Her eyes were open, man. Wide open. She looked at me like she hated me.”

  “What did she say?” I asked. The heater kicked on, causing me to jump.

  “It’s hard to explain,” Colin replied. “She was makin’ these whining and crying sounds, and cradling her arms like she was holding a baby. She turned around to hide it from us, and then said a bunch of weird shit. I dunno, man.”

  “Try to remember,” I said.

  “She wasn’t talking to us, I don’t think. But she said stuff like, ‘It’s Faye. I can’t see you. Are you up in the trees or down in the hole?’ So Tyler hit the light switch, and as soon as he did, I saw a little kid through the window outside. He was down below, right where I was standing a few minutes before, and he was walking around on his tippy-toes and flailing his arms around. You know how when you’re a kid, you pretend the ground is hot lava? It looked like that. When he noticed I was watching, he took off.”

  “Did you see his face?”

  “Nah,” Colin said. Static invaded the phone line once more, garbling some of his words. “…too dark. But…went after him. Got outside and chased him all the way to that little belt of trees across the street. He was laughing and moving around in there, but then the laughter turned into an adult’s. I was scared to go inside, man. Felt like I was…heart attack. I just went a few steps in, and as soon as I did, there was a really tall guy standing there in the shadows. He was naked and had his back to me. I sort of froze up, and he just stood there for a while, then started rolling his head around real slow. Made this disgusting cracking sound, like a hundred knuckles popping.”

  “You’ve seen him, then,” I said, exhaling the mixture of relief and horror that swirled in me.

  “You’re not gonna believe this shit, dude,” Colin said.

  “Try me,” I said, peeking out the living room window.

  “I was so afraid I kind of stumbled backwards. I tried

  to leave without taking my eyes off him. And as I did, he goes, ‘Heeeeeelllllllooooo?’” Colin imitated a croaking sound that might as well have come from a toad, but toward the end of the word, his voice returned to normal. “It was like an animal talking at first, but then it became a human voice. Your voice, Felix.”

  “I think he’s mimicking me,” I said. “He’s trying to get Faye to think he’s me.” Something moved past the trees outside.

  “Wait, wait,” Colin said, “I’m not done yet. So as I turned to run back to the house, the guy starts begging for help in your voice, and then he goes, ‘They’re gonna kill me tonight.’”

  Colin and I spoke for a few more minutes, but his story weighed down on me so much that I had to force myself to get off the phone. The terror that had kept me alert and on edge when we first visited Pale Peak had clung to me ever since. I’d brought it home with me to California, and back again to this awful mountain. But over time, it had morphed into a different set of sensations. Now, that terror oppressed me. It loomed over me and pressed ever downward, dulling my wits and exhausting my muscles. It hung on my eyelids. It made me wish for death. If the monster didn’t kill me outright, the sleep deprivation probably would. I pictured myself driving Greg’s truck right off the icy cliff nearby, and sighed in relief at the thought.

  Get some rest, I reassured myself. Find the ring. Get the ring.

  It was still daytime. I reasoned that if I had to stay on the mountain until Tíwé and Nathan returned, I might as well sleep while it was still light out. I nose-dived onto the couch and hoped that if the Impostor truly did plan to kill me tonight, he’d at least permit me one last dream of Faye.

  Chapter 28

  “Felix,” a voice called out. It was close by.

  A cold feeling strobed across my body, rolling up my back and down my arms.

  “What do you see?” the voice asked. Warm air caressed my face as it spoke. Two hands found my shoulders and squeezed.

  My eyes cracked open, then snapped shut as blinding light poured into them. A man’s face took shape in the stars behind my eyelids. It was passingly familiar.

  “Come on. Need to get you back, you crazy kid.”

  The voice matched the face, and my brain clicked on. My eyes popped open.

  “Tíwé,” I tried to say. My jaw would barely open to let the words out. Freezing wind stung my face.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked, still grasping me by the shoulders. He was a bit shorter than me, but his grip was impressive. He probably could have held me up if I collapsed. A feeling of safety washed over me, then passed as I glanced over his shoulder. A line of snowy trees towered above us not fifteen yards out, and the sun already balanced on their tips.

  I looked behind me. The cabin rested in the distance. Its door sat wide open, and a meandering trail cut through

  the snow from the porch to where I now stood.

  “I can’t…can’t feel my feet,” I said, shivering harder as my senses returned.

  “That’s why we wear boots up here, my friend.”

  Tíwé led me back to the cabin and put a blanket around me. He turned the heater up high and made me some tea from the little bag Nathan had left behind. I laid myself across the sofa.

  “You damn tourists forget,” he said from the kitchen, “this mountain is a reaper of souls.”

  I stared out the window at the path I’d wandered.

  “I’ve never sleepwalked in my life, Tíwé. Not once. I don’t even talk. I sleep like a corpse.”

  “Well, you’re under a lot of stress. Sleep-deprived. And this place makes people crazy.”

  He made his way over to me with a big steaming mug. I cupped it in my hands and reveled in the warmth.

  “Just don’t drop that thing in the
snow,” he said, nodding at the kitchen counter. I glanced over and noticed the neck pouch he’d loaned to me. It sat next to Greg’s car keys. A hot flash of embarrassment chased away the last bit of numbness in my limbs. Tíwé read the apology in my eyes, and silenced me before I could speak it.

  “Why were you out there?” he asked.

  “Actually I was just about to ask you the same thing,” I replied. “Did you come up here just to check on me?”

  Tíwé knelt down and looked into my eyes. He nodded and put a rough hand on my forehead, checking my temperature.

  “I think you saved my life,” I said. A morbid chuckle escaped my lips.

  “Well, I was a bit worried about you. Rightfully so, it seems.” His eyes twinkled a bit as he smiled. “And I try to get a few miles in each day. Which reminds me, I’ve got to get going soon. Storm’s comin’ from the north, supposed to be a doozy.”

  “I’m leaving tonight,” I said, “with or without that goddamn ring.”

  “It’s very special,” Tíwé said. He stood up and studied the window behind him. “And the Impostor knows it. It symbolizes your unity, your love for each other. It’s a powerful object, a bit like a totem. Where’d you buy it?”

  “I didn’t,” I said, sitting up on the couch. Dizziness tried to pull me back down. “It was my grandma’s. I never met her, but it was really special to my mom. Old silver, I think. Real diamonds too. You really think he could use it against us somehow?”

  Tíwé sighed as he stared out the window. His breath fogged the glass.

  “The spirit world is a curious place,” he said, hovering a finger before the window as if he were about to draw something. “The entities within it…their desires, their motives…few of us will ever know.”

  “I was an idiot to think it would be just sitting on a dresser up here,” I said, gulping down some of the tea. “Faye might have dropped it on our hike. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back.”

  “What makes you think she lost it?” Tíwé replied, turning to face me. “What if she traded it for something else?” He scanned the room until his gaze fell on the front door. “What if she gave it to him?”

  The possibility baffled me. Faye had been conversing with the creature for a while now, giving him little bits and pieces of information whenever he was able to fool her into it.

  “I just wish I knew what to do,” I said. “I feel like he’s gotten stronger. Like he can just come in and out of our heads as he pleases. What if I—”

  “Felix,” he interrupted, “I believed that if you came back to the mountain, we’d be able to find the answers you seek. But I was wrong. You seem to be getting worse, and you haven’t found the ring. No one in my community is prepared to help with this. We need to get you back to Faye, and when you’re both safe, we’ll try another angle. I’m so sorry for all of this. I’ve wasted your time.”

  I stood up to protest, but Tíwé embraced me in a tight hug.

  “Keep yourself safe,” he said. “No more walkin’ around. Put that couch in front of the door if you have to. As soon as I get to the station I’ll tell them you need a lift in the morning.”

  “Fuck that,” I said, heading for the closet to grab my jacket. “I’m going with you.” Before my hand reached the knob, my head and limbs turned to thousand-pound stones. I sagged to the floor. The room spun like a top.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” Tíwé said, hoisting me back onto the couch. “You’ll never make it out there tonight.”

  “Then we’ll drive,” I replied, pointing at the keys to Greg’s truck.

  “I’ve never driven a car in my life,” Tíwé replied, “and there’s no way in hell I’m gettin’ in a car with you like this. The roads are gonna be iced over tonight. Zero visibility. You can’t even open a door.”

  I sighed in defeat. I couldn’t bear the thought of being alone again. He sensed my worry and smiled.

  “You and Faye are very strong. Keep her in your heart. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  With that, Tíwé zipped up his jacket and pulled a flashlight from his pocket.

  “You sure you’ll be okay?” I asked.

  He pulled the door open and pressed out against the frosty wind, retrieving a walking stick he’d left on the porch.

  “Been walkin’ this road for decades,” he said. “It’s more dangerous in there with you in the kitchen! I heard all about Faye’s little tummy ache.”

  “In that case,” I said, leaning over the arm of the couch, “can I offer you some tacos before you go? They’re her favorite.”

  “I’m sure they are,” he laughed.

  I took one last look at the barren landscape as Tíwé closed the door. Golden light poured sideways through the windows. Within the hour it would fade, leaving me again in the horrid darkness of Pale Peak. A knot formed in my gut.

  I lay back down, trying to let my body warm up and recuperate. I slept on and off, and after a few hours, strange images began to flash in my memory. They were scenes I recognized but could not place. The more I focused on them, the further into obscurity they withdrew – until one of Tíwé’s stories drifted into my thoughts.

  I’d had a dream.

  Images of a huge hole carved into a mountain rushed to the forefront of my mind. Snow and branches were caked all around the mouth of the cave, and an impossible blackness yawned from within it. I stood there, gazing into the vacant face of the deep, listening to Faye’s pitiful cries. When I tried to pursue them, her voice warped into a laughing child’s, and the entrance collapsed into a wall of stone.

  I sifted through the images and sounds, grasping for more. There were flashes of trees, of the cabin, of Faye, of Tíwé and Nathan.

  Then, figments of a longer scene took form.

  I could see myself from behind. I was walking. At first I couldn’t see where I was going, but then the snow appeared, and a tree sprung out of it. Then another. And another. In the distance, a crop of branches and bones hung suspended in the air, bending and groaning and crackling as they inexplicably wove themselves together. It was the dreamcatcher. I was walking toward it. As I made my way across the field, something glimmered from the object’s center – something that wasn’t there before. Something I recognized. It was a tiny thing, laced into the twine spiral among little bits of bone and teeth.

  The ring.

  I crawled off the couch and staggered to the window. Little of my strength had returned.

  The dream was probably a trick, seeded into my head by the malevolent whispers of the Impostor, but I had to know. I shoved my sockless feet into my boots and pulled on a jacket.

  As I hobbled out onto the porch, the air held still and the mountain fell silent.

  Chapter 29

  Greg’s truck still sat in the driveway, but it looked as if it had sunken into the ground. When I approached, I noticed that the tires had been slashed to ribbons. My face went red-hot against the frigid night air, but I swallowed back the outburst that came rushing up inside me.

  I stopped halfway across the field, in the same exact place Tíwé had woken me. Twenty yards ahead, the woods began so abruptly that they seemed like the outer wall of some fortress. Darkness seeped from them. It felt thick with an otherworldly presence that loomed just out of sight.

  Child don’t wander too far out.

  Lines from Faye’s dream journal echoed in my head. I forced myself onward.

  The dreamcatcher was just inside the rim of the tree line. I planned to sneak a quick glance and run back to the cabin. Anticipating that Faye’s voice might call out from the shadows, I reminded myself to go back no matter what I heard.

  Trees towered over my head. Branches snagged my jacket – final warnings to the foolhardy traveler. The air sat

  heavy and still, holding my frosty breath before me for several seconds before allowing it to dissipate.

  I circled a large trunk –

  – and there it was.

  The sickening object hung a few feet in front of
me. The branch it dangled from looked gnarled and dead, tainted by the presence of such a foul thing. I froze in my tracks, fearing to approach, until the object began to move. It twirled slowly as if it had heard my footsteps, creaking and clattering as it did. As soon as the intricate pattern at its center faced me, the dreamcatcher ceased its movement. An explosive mixture of shock and fear arced through my limbs.

  Even in the poor light, the ring glimmered faintly. Someone had put it here. Someone had given it back.

  A hundred thoughts and emotions stampeded through my mind: had some benevolent force taken pity on me? Or was this a final taunt before the creature took my life? Should I take back the ring? Should I abandon it and tell Faye it was lost forever? What if the totem was a trap? Or what if it was the only thing protecting me from the creature? Retrieving the ring would require me not only to touch, but to destroy, the dreamcatcher – something Faye, Tíwé, and my own gut had warned me against.

  There was no time for debate. The last gasps of daylight had already come and gone, and the forest began to unleash its gloom across the landscape. I strode up to the object and yanked it down from the tree. It was even more brittle than it looked; pieces of it frayed and broke apart as I tugged on it. I ripped the thing to shreds, snapping the bones and twigs that comprised it until I clutched a tangled mass of sinew. The rage and despair and fear within me condensed at the back of my throat, bursting from my mouth in a series of frustrated cries. I hated this mountain, this forest, and this cabin, for what they had done to my fiancée. I hated Faye’s parents for lying to us. And I hated myself for leaving her to come back here.

  Nothing remained of the dreamcatcher but the engagement ring and the strings of gore it once clung to. I tore it away and grasped the ring in my hands, turning it over a dozen times to make sure it was truly Faye’s.

  The sound of crunching snow came from my left. Something big moved into my peripheral vision. All of my muscles seized up into ice blocks as my brain processed the huge figure. Even without turning to look at him, I instantly recognized his asymmetrical posture and the repulsiveness of his jutting bones. He stood facing away from me, rhythmically clenching his shaking hands. His head moved back and forth, studying the treetops.