by W. J. May
The agitated horses neighed and abruptly stopped, stomping their hooves. Jules snapped the reins. “Come on!”
But the horses didn’t want any part of crossing the perimeter into the mysterious forest. Sarah had to wonder if they sensed something she couldn’t. Glancing over her shoulder again, she gasped. Horsemen were less than 200 feet away, the sun glinting off of the polished metal of their armor. She could hear the troop leader call his men to arms. Their galloping hooves kicked up clouds of dust as they thundered along, just as it had in her vision. The dust made her eyes water. She ran a hand over her face, rubbing, but the friction only made it worse. “They’re coming!” she shouted. “Get those horses moving!”
Jules gave a curt whistle and snapped the reins again. The horses snorted, and the wagon lurched forward. He tried to steer them into the forest, maneuvering through the giant ferns. “I hope you know you’re ordering us to our doom!”
“No, Jules, doom is coming up behind us. I think the king’s wrath is far worse than anything we’re going to find in there,” Frank reasoned.
Sarah glanced behind her and scanned for anybody following them. “Do you think they will follow us into the forest?”
“I don’t think so,” Frank said. “Look how scared Jules is—and even the horses. I think they’ll respect the myth simply because they fear it. Walking into this forest is a death sentence, in their opinion anyway.”
Sarah blinked as every detail along the forest’s edge sharpened into focus: the feathery green of a fern, the uneven bark of a tree, even a tiny, six-legged insect scurrying across a red-veined leaf. Unless she had suddenly developed superhero vision, this couldn’t be.
Sunlight shimmered through the towering trees, and a blanket of cold, damp fog surrounded them, sending goosebumps up and down her shivering arms. The wagon bounced down the rocky path as the horses galloped on. Shivering, she pulled her hood up around her ears to keep warm.
Frank squeezed her hand and pulled her down into the haystacks. “No use getting yourself all worked up. I’ve learned a lot in my years of reporting, Sarah, and one of them is that magical beings don’t exist.”
“Like the Immortals?”
“I don’t believe that crap for a minute. I’ve learned to accept that other dimensions are possible and that unidentified primates can world-hop, but immortality? Not even you could believe something so ridiculous, right?”
“I’d like to believe that the rulers here made the Immortals up to keep their subjects in line, but I’m hearing voices in my head and seeing things, Frank.” Wait...did I just admit that to him? He’s gonna be looking for a medieval straightjacket if I don’t learn to keep my mouth shut.
“Seeing things? Hmm. Maybe this dimension is doing weird things to our bodies. Maybe the electric and magnetic fields are off. I mean, we weren’t born here. It could take some physiological toll on us.”
She could only hope that was the truth. The wagon jerked, and Sarah bounced off a haystack. Putting out her hands, she landed on Frank’s chest. “What the heck was that?”
“I dunno, but the wagon stopped.”
While trying to keep her balance, Sarah climbed onto the haystacks and looked at the wagon seat. Jules was nowhere in sight. She glanced at Frank with a confused look on her face. “Where the heck did our driver go? You think he jumped ship...er, uh, wagon?”
“Let’s check it out,” he said, reaching into the hay and pulling out the tranquilizer gun.
“You still have that?”
“Heck yeah! Who knows when we’ll need it? And now might be just the occasion.”
Sarah jumped off the side of the cart and walked to the front. “Easy, boy. It’s okay.” She patted one of the horses, then looked around into the thick blanket of fog. “Jules?”
An icy wind blew across her face, followed by a menacing whisper in her ear. “Gettt ooout...”
She gasped, her heart pounding a million miles a minute.
The horses neighed and kicked wildly, almost as if they’d heard it, too, as if they sensed another frightening presence.
“Something’s spooking the horses,” said Frank, appearing beside her.
“Yeah. I...we heard a voice.”
“A voice? What did it sound like?” he asked.
“A whisper...like a ghost. Frank, do you think this forest is really haunted? Like you said, we weren’t born here, and the people who were probably know more about the place than we do.”
“I really don’t want to find out,” said Frank, pointing the gun into the forest. “Get back in the wagon. We’re getting out of here. Time for Plan B...as soon as I think of one.”
Snap! A branch broke amongst the foliage.
Sarah’s heart thumped wildly. She spun in a slow circle, scanning the dark area. “H-hello?” she stuttered, terrified.
Eerie whispers echoed from all around, as if invisible beings were speaking directly in her ear. Shadows drifted in the trees all around them, causing the hair at the nape of Sarah’s neck to stand on end. “Do you...you hear that? Those voices?”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“You sure? They’re everywhere,” she said, aghast that he couldn’t hear them. Maybe I’m losing it, having some kind of a breakdown, Sarah thought. She gripped his arm tightly. “Oh gosh, Frank. There’s something wrong...with my brain.”
“No, I think you’re all right. There is something off in this place though,” said Frank. “We’d better high-tail it out of here...like NOW!”
“What about Jules? We can’t just leave him behind, Frank. I couldn’t do that to Mia, not after all she risked to help me.”
A slow growl echoed through the air.
Sarah froze. “Wh-what was that? And please tell me you heard it too.”
“Yeah, I heard it all right. Sounded like some kind of wild animal.” Frank’s hand tightened around hers. “Let’s get out of here!”
“But Jules is—”
A deep growl rumbled from the vegetation. Sarah glanced up just as a black wolf, the size of a lion, lurched through the ferns toward her. Sarah staggered back against the wagon, gasping. Eyes blazing, body tensed, the furry beast bared his teeth. She suddenly felt like she was playing Little Red Riding Hood in virtual 3D—complete with dark forest, hooded cloak, and the big, bad wolf with real sharp teeth to eat her with. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “Back up slowly...very slow,” she whispered, hoping Frank could hear her. Her hands were clammy, and she had a death-grip on him, even though she knew he would be just as helpless against the wild animal as she was.
The wolf snarled, its top lip quivering over razor-sharp teeth. The horses stood on their hind legs, neighing in terror.
As Sarah looked feverishly for an escape route, she noticed that the fog had mysteriously lifted, and hundreds of wolves surrounded the wagon. “There are so, so many! Wh-where did they all come from?” she muttered, afraid to speak too loudly and set them off.
“Have you ever seen a pack this big?” asked Frank, taking another step back. He pointed the tranquilizer gun directly at the front wolf.
“Never!”
The largest wolf inched closer. It lifted its muzzle to the morning sky and let out a primal howl. The others followed its lead. The bloodcurdling noise sent shivers through Sarah’s body.
“Get back on the wagon,” Frank said. “I’m sure the horses can outrun them.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
A voice thundered inside Sarah’s head. “Leave, and we will tear you to shreds.”
She yanked Frank’s arm, showing him she meant business. “No, Frank, change of plans. We need to stay put.”
“Are you crazy, Sarah? I’m not gonna stand here and become a snack for those—
“Frank! If we move, they’ll kill us.”
“Now’s not the time to freeze up on me, Sarah. Now get on the wagon and let’s go!”
She took a steadying breath. “No, I mean it. I heard them, Frank, crazy as that s
ounds. They said if we leave, they’ll rip us to shreds.”
“What? Maybe you are losing it, Sarah.”
She slowly met Frank’s gaze. “Listen, I’m going to try and reason with them.”
“But they’re wolves!” he shot back.
“I think this pack’s intelligent. Maybe they’re the shape-shifters Jules warned us about.”
“It sounds absolutely crazy...but then again, this whole thing is insane. I suppose if you’re hearing voices, maybe they’re trying to talk to you telepathically.”
Sarah gazed into the black eyes of the alpha male, or so she assumed. “We mean no harm. We were being chased. Our lives were in danger, and we had nowhere else to go. We beg you for sanctuary.”
Frank nudged her. “No, Sarah, not sanctuary. Ask for safe passage.”
She bowed deeply. “We throw ourselves at your mercy and ask for safe passage.” She felt like an idiot. I’m standing here talking to a pack of wolves, begging for protection and mercy? I wonder if there’s a padded cell in that dungeon back there. Maybe they should call in the royal shrink.
The image of the wolf flickered like a television transmission that was about to be interrupted, and a light formed where the animal’s chest was, spreading across its shaggy fur until it morphed into the nearby leaves and passed on to the other animals. Sarah blinked against the glaring brightness and raised a shaky hand to cover her eyes, but her curious nature wouldn’t allow her to avert her gaze completely. The image flickered more, shifting and elongating, until it burst into thousands of particles. In that instant, every wolf turned into a person.
Sarah’s heart trembled at the sight of a tall, copper-skinned man dressed from head to toe in jet black. He looked like an Indian from an old Western movie with his black and white feathered headdress, heavily outlined eyes, his strong jaw, and the stripes and spots painted on his face. Sarah took a deep breath and glanced at Frank. “What the heck?”
Ignoring Frank, the black-eyed man flipped his long hair over his shoulders and spoke to Sarah in a cool voice. “You know the rules. I can only promise you a quick death.” With lightning speed, he knocked the gun from Frank’s hands.
“No!” Frank yelled. “Don’t you understand? We’re not from here. We don’t know the rules.”
Never taking his eyes off Sarah, the man snarled, “They were communicated to you at the edge of the forest, yet you insisted on breaking them and crossing our border.”
“If you heard all of that, then you know my situation,” Sarah said.
The man ran a long, needle-sharp fingernail across her face and down her throat, making her gasp. A tad more pressure, and he could slice right through her skin. “I only know you’re being pursued. I don’t care by whom...or why.”
A woman dressed in the same black leather outfit with more feathers than a Las Vegas showgirl marched forward, holding a gold dagger to Jules’s throat.
Sarah put her arm around Jules. He sucked in air like he’d just run a marathon. “Yes,” she said. “He is with us, and he did try to warn us.”
The alpha male touched Jules’s forehead, then Frank’s, and finally hers. “You’re all marked for death.”
Jules dropped to his knees, and Frank clenched his fists.
Maybe Jules had a good point about not setting foot in the forest, but what else were we supposed to do? Let the knights drag us back to face the jilted king’s wrath? He was a powerful ruler and wouldn’t forgive her for such an act of treason. Besides that, his reputation was at stake; if he didn’t punish her, he’d appear weak, and no king could afford that.
The shape-shifter whipped out a dagger and held it to Jules’s neck. “You’ll be the first to go, since you were the one who gave in like a weakling, knowing the rules, and drove them into the forest.”
Jules gasped.
Sarah gripped his arm and pulled. “Let him go! I made him come in here. If you must punish someone, kill me. He’s done nothing wrong.”
“That can be easily arranged.” Lunging forward, he gripped her throat and squeezed, his nails digging into her soft flesh.
Sarah struggled to take a trembling breath.
The shape-shifter held a cold blade against her throat. “This will teach you humans not to trespass on my territory.”
Sarah gasped as much as she could, her heart drumming in her chest. A burning sensation—hot, deep, and piercing—spread across the fingers of her left hand and quickly intensified. She touched the ring, grunting as she collapsed. “My hand! It’s on fire. Get this thing off me.”
“Sarah, are you okay?” Frank’s voice seemed to come from far away.
She strained her eyes to catch a glimpse of him, but she couldn’t think further than the piercing pain. “Get it off me, Frank!” She met Jules’s gaze as she desperately tugged at the ring, trying to slide it off her finger. It looked like she was going to need a whole tub of butter or a pan of grease to get the jewelry off. It was stuck, as if it had been cemented to her finger permanently. “Why is it hurting me?” she asked. “And why won’t it come off?”
“I-I don’t know,” Jules said, his eyes wide.
Sarah bit her lip, refusing to cry out as the shape-shifter twisted her wrist. Her trembling calmed some when she saw his arrogant grin falter. As his black gaze fell on the ruby ring on her finger, she heard him mutter with astonishment, “You wear the mark of the Immortals! You...you are an Immortal?” It was like a magnet, drawing him in.
The pain left Sarah’s hand as quickly as it came. Stunned, she shoved her hand toward him. “If you can get it off, it’s all yours—as long as you let us go on our merry way.”
“But that’s our key!” Frank said.
Jumping to her feet, she shot him a glare. “What good is a key if we’re dead?”
The shape-shifter thrust her hand upward, jerking her off balance and causing her to fall against his sturdy chest. Black feathers from his outfit swept across her cheek. He yelled to his people, “She wears the mark of the Immortals!”
Gasps and murmurs erupted as shock registered on every face.
Sarah held her breath, wondering what that yell might imply. They might decide to try and kill her any moment.
His gaze locked on her for a moment, impenetrable and blank, just as guarded as his attitude. Then he bowed, and the hundreds of others scattered about the woods followed suit.
Sarah’s mouth dropped. This must be what it’s like to be royalty...but I’m not. She wasn’t keen on all the attention either. “Let’s not make a big fuss. Please rise.”
The shape-shifter scrambled to his feet. “Oh, Highness, I beg your forgiveness and understanding. If I’d have killed you, I would’ve brought the entire wrath of the Immortal world down on my head. Which tribe do you belong to?”
Sarah glanced at Frank, and he gave her the look to play along. “King Victor Fesque is...he’s my husband.” Husband. Even still, the words sounded awkward coming out of her mouth.
The woman gasped. “Fesque? He’s next in line to take over the Cardashian Court once King Taggert dies...and that won’t be long now.”
The wolf man’s eyes widened as full-blown acknowledgement registered on his face. “You are married to one of the most powerful men in our world, and I must respect your position as such. My name is Titano, and this is my wife Lana.”
Sarah smiled. “It is such an honor to meet both of you.”
The woman eyed Sarah up and down, focusing on the ring on Sarah’s finger as though she doubted its meaning. Eventually, she nodded, though it was clear she was still unconvinced. “If she is what she says she is, we can’t afford any trouble with Victor. The Cardashian Court will stop at nothing to avenge her if she is truly his bride. Besides, the rules don’t apply to her, as they are only meant for regular humans. Titano, we have no choice other than to spare her life.”
The man nodded, his gaze focused on Sarah. “I don’t need to start a war with the Immortals with your blood on my hands. My Queen, I am happy to off
er you the safe passage you have requested.”
“And my friends?”
He didn’t even blink. “I am afraid they are still marked for death.”
A cold chill ran down her spine. No! She couldn’t lose Frank and Jules. She decided that if they were going to force her to play the part of the queen, she was going to use it to her advantage. It was time for another Oscar-worthy performance. “That is unacceptable, Titano. I will not have my loyal servants slaughtered and devoured before my very eyes.”
“Are you forcing my hand, my Queen?” asked Titano.
“I am.” She met his gaze, narrowing her eyes in anger, hoping he wouldn’t see through her. “If you harm one hair on their heads, I shall send my husband back here, and he will come with vengeance and his wife’s rage to motivate him. I assure you, shape-shifter, that it will not be pretty if he has to go to those measures because of your disobedience to my direct commands.”
Lana grabbed her husband’s arm, her black eyes wide. “King Victor isn’t an Immortal we can afford to anger, Titano. Just let them go! They are not worth the casualties of the war he will wage if these servants have a special bond with him as well.”
“Yeah,” said Frank, sounding far too twenty-first century. “King Victor and I go way back.”
The man looked at Frank, then at Jules, and finally at Sarah. “My wife has spoken wisely. You may go—all of you.” He picked up the tranquilizer gun and handed it back to Frank. “Take your weapon with you. We have no need of it, for we are well capable of defending ourselves and our land.”
“Thank you. Your wisdom and obedience are to be commended.” Sarah took a few slow steps back, then quickly jumped on the back of the wagon and crawled into the cubbyhole with Frank right behind her. She peeked out and watched as Jules climbed onto the high wagon seat and whistled to the horses. He pulled the reins, and once again, they were trotting, bouncing, and jerking their way through the bumpy forest terrain. This time, though, they were escorted by hundreds of wolves, perhaps thousands, running and darting through the trees.
Streams of sunlight glistened through the branches and leaves as Jules crossed the border of the woods into a huge meadow. The wolves no longer followed; instead, they sat like trained dogs at the edge of the tree line.