by Vered Ehsani
Together, we entered the forest. Only a smattering of snow had managed to make it through the thick boughs. The silence in the trees was terrible. Even our breathing seemed too quiet.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Juna whispered.
“Me too,” I whispered back.
“Hey, we actually agree.”
“Yeah, imagine that.” I smiled briefly. “So, are you sure you can’t call up that personal tornado thing? ‘Cause I don’t see how this is going to end well, if we have to keep walking. This forest is full of potential shadows. It’s only a matter of time…”
I paused and glanced at her. Her mouth was set in a tight line. For a second, she reminded me of Shanti – brave, determined, tough, smart and scared of spiders.
She turned to me, dropping the hem of her dress; the wet fabric slapped against her legs as she walked. “Listen, Ash. I…” She lowered her gaze and continued. “I’m not good with saying sorry or even thanking people. And I owe you both – an apology and a thanks.”
I stared at her. Her cheeks reddened.
“You’re marching through this nightmare with me, even though you can escape anytime you want. You’ve been a real… well, a good guy. I’m not used to that. And I’ve been only rude and probably ungrateful in return.”
It was my turn to go red. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” I mumbled. “It’s cool. Apology accepted.”
“That’s not the only thing I’m apologising for,” she added. “I did recognise you. We had met before.”
“Huh?” My eyebrows scrunched together.
“You asked me a couple times if we had met before, ‘cause I was acting all angry at you, as if I knew you from before.” She paused, waiting for me to catch up mentally. “Well, I used to dream about you a lot.”
“Lucky you.”
“Actually, they were nightmares.”
“Lucky me.”
She smacked my arm but grinned. “No, seriously. You were in this forest meadow and you were reading a book, a really old and scary book. And you never listened when I told you to close the book before something could come out of it. I always woke up irritated.”
“Oh.” I tugged at my hair a moment. “Yeah, well, I guess I have that affect on girls. That’s what my sisters tell me.”
“Anyways, I’m sorry.”
We trudged on wordlessly, but the forest seemed a little less gloomy. “You want to tell me about them?” I finally broke the silence.
“Yeah, ok.” She took a big breath, as if about to jump off a diving board, and then nodded. “Ok. The nightmares…. They were so real. And the first part of the dream really came true. Remember when we met the first time?”
I responded with a wordless sound. That was a rather memorable meeting. Being chased by a prehistoric flying reptile was kind of hard to forget.
“I don’t recommend falling out of an airplane. It’s definitely not a great way to wake up. I never even wanted to get on that plane to begin with. But there I was, falling. All because of a birthday wish.”
She paused and looked at me intently, making sure I was listening. I was. Even though I already knew this part, I still paid attention. My dream had only shown her falling out of the airplane, but I didn’t know what happened after that. I hoped I could find a clue, any hint at all, that would help us survive.
“Gee, you need to be more careful what you wish for,” I quipped.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. No kidding.”
We kept walking through the forest and she told me the rest of it. “The turbulence woke me up. I’m not a nervous flyer, but there was something a little too…”
“Turbulent?” I suggested.
“Real bright, Ghost Boy. Yeah, the turbulence was a little too turbulent. Anyway, I woke up, but slowly, like I was still half asleep, and wishing I could be anywhere but here, be anyone else. And then I remembered that it was my fifteenth birthday.”
“Wait. You remembered. Doesn’t that mean you have to forget first?”
“Yes.”
“So you forgot that it was your birthday?”
She glared at me. “Yes, I forgot it was my birthday. I had other things on my mind, ok?”
“Like getting arrested.”
“Like getting arrested and a few other minor details. So there I was, spending my forgotten and then remembered fifteenth birthday inside the confines of a bouncing metal tube 30,000 feet above sea level, trapped and betrayed. I squeezed my eyes shut and made a very intense and sincere birthday wish: I want out of here.”
“And bingo. Wish granted,” I filled in for her.
“Pretty much. I started staring out of the window. Have you ever noticed how much plane wings bounce?”
“I try not to notice things like that,” I replied. “A little bit of ignorance goes a long way.”
“Well, I like to notice and the wing near my window was doing some serious bouncing, like it was playing basketball with the storm clouds, and the storm clouds didn’t appreciate being used as a ball. And around that time, something went horribly wrong. I could feel it, a force…” She glanced at me sharply, making sure I wasn’t going to make a joke about that, but I wasn’t in the joking mood.
“And this force was good? Evil?”
She shook her head. “Neither. It just was there, getting closer and I could feel it reaching out to me. And then the fasten seatbelt sign came on, and it was like this big ‘danger’ sign had been illuminated.”
“Thought you said the force wasn’t bad?”
“It wasn’t, but I could still feel some danger involved. And then my dorky parole officer must’ve thought I was nervous about the turbulence, ‘cause he made this stupid joke.” She lowered her voice to imitate some guy. “‘Hey, it’s just turbulence, Juna. It’ll pass, just like gas.’”
“Sounds like a bright guy there.”
“Yeah, right. So there I was, my nose pressed against the glass, thinking that the wing bounced way too much, like it was made of Silly Putty instead of metal and fibreglass or whatever airplane wings are made of. And then I noticed a different kind of cloud gathering. They were dark and reminded me of a coating of thick oil over the sky. They didn’t look like they belonged there. And then they began to swirl into a dark vortex. The vortex grew and got faster and thicker, and it twirled towards the plane, towards my window. The widest part of this vortex sealed itself onto the plane, around my window, and somehow pushed itself through the wall, into the cabin.”
“Wait,” I blurted out. “Didn’t the other passengers kind of notice that a giant suction cup made of clouds was attached to the plane?”
She shrugged. “Apparently not. Maybe they also think that a little bit of ignorance goes a long way.”
“Ouch.”
She smiled. “Well, they soon noticed, because there was a shrieking sound when the vortex popped its head in. Right before I fell into it or got sucked in, all these air masks popped out of the ceiling and rained down on everyone. That’s when they noticed something was wrong.”
“I always wondered what that would look like.”
“Pure chaos, I tell you. People grabbing other people’s masks. Not pretty. I didn’t get to try a mask on, because I was falling upwards into the vortex. The last time I saw the plane, it was still bouncing around.”
“Wow. You must’ve been flipping out.”
“Not really.” She paused, and then sheepishly added, “Ok, I was totally freaking out. I was screaming but I couldn’t hear over the roar of wind and storm. That noise disappeared as I was vacuumed up into a tunnel of swirling dust. All the swirling stuff wrapped around me got faster and closer to me. It was all tightening up around me, until it pushed me through a curtain of mist.”
“The veil,” I breathed out.
“I guess.” She shrugged. “That’s when everything stopped spinning. I was floating above a snow-filled clearing in the forest where something horrible was about to happen. I could see shadows where there shouldn’t have bee
n shadows. More of them kept forming. They were watching, waiting. There was a snowstorm and a boy. Shadows of strange creatures stretched out on the snow all around him. I think he saw them too, but he didn’t try to run away, and I couldn’t understand why not. He was holding a book, and I knew it was important by the way he kept it close to his chest. The shadows began to dance and twist around him, getting closer and dancing faster until they were wrapping themselves around him, smothering him. After that, I couldn’t see him.”
“That was me,” I interrupted in a low voice as I peered ahead through the gloom of the dark forest.
“I know,” Juna whispered back.
“I always get stuck in that clearing in the middle of a storm. It’s my dream. The one I always have right before something bad happens.”
She snorted. “Some dream, Ash. Not one I’d want to have on a regular basis. After the shadows gobbled you up, it was me in the clearing.”
I glanced at her. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. I was in the clearing holding the book. I was surrounded by a snowstorm. I couldn’t see much except this shapeless shadow floating towards me.”
“The hunter,” I whispered and shivered.
She shivered as well. “It was like I could feel its hunger, its rage. I didn’t want to see its face. It launched an attack, and I began to fall again. I think I blanked out, ‘cause the next thing I remember is throwing up and then meeting you.”
For a few minutes, we didn’t say anything, and I thought about her story. Some of it, the part about her falling out of an airplane, I had seen in my own dream. That was the part that had actually happened. But the second half, when she saw me in the clearing being overrun by shadows… That was the part I really hoped wouldn’t come true.
I also thought about her shadow. As she talked, I had noticed her shadow had shifted, straightened up slightly, got a bit clearer. It was now looking a lot healthier. Yeah, I was diagnosing a shadow.
The only thing bothering me was her tornado. Why did it appear sometimes, but not when she wanted it to? What was stopping her from summoning it at will? I mused over that while we continued along the forest path. Then a random thought occurred to me, random because I didn’t understand why I should suddenly think about it.
“Edna told me your Cinderella story.”
Juna flinched with her whole body, like I’d just slapped her, and her expression hardened. I noticed her shadow twitch and loom upwards.
“So… what happened to the prince?”
She glared at me, her eyes glittering dangerously. “What do you think happened? He betrayed me and ran off. If I ever get out of this mess, I’m going to track him down and…” Her voice was thick with a mix of emotions and it chocked off whatever she might have said.
I remained quiet for a moment, and then commented, “If your tornado is anything like the veil, it doesn’t work well with anger. Sunday wasn’t talking to me when she told me to let go. It’s you she meant.” She looked confused, but I didn’t bother to explain my dream of the runaway slave. “You have to let go, focus on something else.”
“And how do I do that?” she grumbled, but with less heat than before. “He betrayed me and ruined my life.”
“He betrayed you,” I acknowledged, “but what happens to the rest of your life is in your hands, not his. Like Bibi told me, what you focus on, you become. So what do you want to become?”
She didn’t answer. We walked on, each lost in our own thoughts. A few minutes later, the trees started to thin out and then, abruptly, they disappeared. Neither of us was too surprised by what we saw. I guess we both knew we’d end up there. We entered a place I recognised, a place I had visited countless times in my dreams. We were back where it had all begun, and where it would end one way or another.
We entered the clearing where the shadows danced.
Chapter 9
“This place looks familiar,” Juna said, gazing around. “Like déjà vu.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“No, you don’t. I mean, the place looks really familiar.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Familiar as in: I’ve been here before familiar.”
“That’s ‘cause you have,” I responded grimly. “With me. It’s the clearing from our dreams.”
We stepped into the empty clearing. The space was covered in thick, untouched snow. A few flakes fluttered about in the breeze. It looked exactly like it always looked in my dreams. That was not reassuring.
“What is it about this place?” I didn’t realise I had said that aloud until Juna responded.
“Beats me. Why would our nightmares keeping taking us here? There’s nothing but an empty meadow.”
Reluctantly, I walked further in. There were no shadows, not yet. But something was going to happen here. Something to do with Kali and the map and I didn’t think it was any coincidence that she and I were there.
“Ash!”
“Shanti?” I gasped. I opened the veil and saw her anxiously peering through. The book must’ve opened a picture.
“Who are you talking to?” Juna demanded.
“My sister. Shanti, what’s up? Did the book finally open a page up?”
“No. Ash, it’s the map,” Shanti blurted out. “Something’s wrong. It’s changed. And it’s… well, it’s fresher. I mean, the pencil mark looks sharper and newer.”
For some reason, that scared me. “Shanti, don’t touch it.”
“Duh!” She rolled her eyes. “But that’s not what’s wrong. I don’t think it’s a map of an island.”
“Oh no…” I breathed.
“You know those squiggly things that we thought were waves?” She glanced down, as if looking at the map. “Well, I don’t think they are. They’re moving through the trees. They’re coming towards the centre of the map.”
“Towards us,” I whispered and glanced around the clearing. We were surrounded, and Juna had no way out.
She must’ve seen it on my face, because she sighed and shook her head. “Who made you my guardian angel?”
“Huh?” I stared at her.
“Just go.” She waved me away, a haughty mask covering up whatever she was really feeling. “I’ll manage. I always do. I don’t need you to take care of me.”
I paused. I can’t say I wasn’t tempted. I had a ‘Get out of jail free’ card, so yeah, I thought about it. And I was also trying to decide if I should be irritated or what. I decided on ‘or what.’ I responded slowly. “I’m sure you don’t. But I can’t just leave you, either.”
“Why not?”
I glanced around. The light had dimmed. Thin clouds were draped around the moon. A mist was forming at the edges of the clearing and snow was starting to fall. I knew what would happen next. I gulped. “Because, Juna, this isn’t just about you and what you think you need or don’t need. I’d probably live in misery forever and ever, if I just left you on your own.”
Her expression dissolved in surprise. I didn’t blame her. I was pretty surprised at myself, too. I wasn’t even sure what I had just said, but it sounded right. Whatever might happen next, I was supposed to be here. This is where it all happened. And maybe I could get a few answers, assuming I survived. I wasn’t going to hold my breath on that one, but I also wasn’t going to run away.
“Like I said, Ghost Boy,” she finally responded softly. “You’re a good guy.”
“Thanks, I…”
The mist swirled. Something was entering the clearing.
“Shanti,” I called out. “I have to close the veil. If I don’t come back…” I gulped.
“What do you mean?” Shanti sounded as close to hysterical as Shanti can get without an invasion of mutant spider monsters coming after her. “You’d better… I mean, Mom will be so mad, and who’s going to help me clean up the mess?” Her voice choked.
“If I don’t come back,” I repeated firmly, “find Bibi, if you can. Tell her what happened. And don’t try to reach me. Ok? And no ‘but’.”
/> “But…”
“Don’t argue!” I closed the veil before I could change my mind and jump to safety, just as a shadowy form began to solidify. I could see it there, floating at the edge of the forest, armed with some stick-type thing that could’ve been a gun, a sword, a spear. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t a bunch of flowers. On the other hand, it also wasn’t the dagger from my dreams, the one that plunges into my chest.
The mist bulged and the snowflakes stung at my face like tiny, icy missiles. I closed my eyes briefly and thought a quick prayer without much hope.
I already knew how this was going to end.
It wasn’t going to be pleasant.
“Juna.” I stepped closer to her and raised my voice above the shriek of the wind. I didn’t remember this much noise in my dream; it’d been a much quieter version. “Whatever comes out of that mist, it’s coming for me, not you. I’ll try to…” I wanted to say ‘survive’ but that was way too optimistic. “I’ll try to distract it, and you have to open your tornado thing or at least escape this place until you figure out how to let go of whatever is blocking you. Try to change your focus.”
She didn’t say anything, but grabbed my hand in a tight grip. We stood there, side by side, hand in hand, shivering as the icy wind snatched at our clothes and whipped our hair about so that hers flapped like a dark flag gone mad. Several minutes passed, and the snowstorm began to die out: I could breathe without sucking in snowflakes and the wind was no longer howling at us. But the fog still clung to the trees and began to ooze towards us. I squinted against the glare and mist that blurred the solid into shadows and the shadows into ghosts.
Whatever was coming was definitely not a ghost.
As it approached, I stepped slightly forward and in front of Juna. Just as determined, she slid forward to my side. Before I could argue with her, the dark form stepped into the small sphere of visibility around us and solidified.
“Bibi?” I exclaimed, my shoulders sagging in relief.
“You know her?” Juna asked, staring back and forth between my great aunt and me.
“Yeah, I do,” I stated firmly.
“You do?” Bibi asked, just as confused as Juna.