In the Dreaming

by Isobel Bird

  I still love you. The words broke through the delicious fog that had enveloped Kate’s mind like a crack of lightning. Scott had said that he loved her. He’d never said that while they were dating. For a while she’d wanted him to, but he hadn’t. Now, right when she most wanted him not to say it, he had.

  She opened her eyes. Scott had stopped kissing her and was looking at her, smiling. “I knew you felt it,” he said.

  Kate turned her head away, afraid to keep looking at him. Her eyes followed the flashlight’s beam into the trees. Standing there, looking at her, was the raven. Tyler stood among the trees, his eyes fixed on Kate and Scott as they embraced.

  Kate pulled away from Scott quickly. “I have to go,” she said.

  “Please,” Scott said. “Don’t run away again.”

  Kate wiped her hand across her mouth. “I have to,” she said. “I can’t do this.”

  She looked over again and saw that Tyler had disappeared. Clearly, he had seen her and Scott kissing. Everything was ruined. She had to find him and explain before any more damage was done.

  “Kate!” Scott called out as Kate ran into the trees.

  She ignored him, running blindly into the darkness in search of Tyler. Her heart ached as she thought about how he must feel after seeing her in Scott’s arms. Why had she let Scott kiss her? Why hadn’t she fought back?

  Because you wanted him to kiss you. The words rang in her head like an accusation. But weren’t they at least partially true? Part of her wanted to be back there in Scott’s arms. But another part of her was sending her running through the forest in search of someone else.

  She heard Scott crashing through the trees behind her, calling out her name. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t go back to him. She was afraid of what would happen if she did. And she was afraid of what would happen if she didn’t find Tyler and explain things to him soon.

  Trees rushed by her as she ran, and several times she stumbled. But somehow she managed to get away from Scott. She saw the beam of his flashlight glinting through the trees behind her, and she was glad that she’d managed to elude him. Now, if only she could find Tyler. She thought about calling to him, but she knew that the sound of her voice would bring Scott running again.

  She was completely lost, but it didn’t matter. She kept going, turning first one way and then another. Tears ran down her face as she thought about what she’d done and about what it might do to her relationship with Tyler. Why had she been so stupid? Why had she let herself kiss Scott a second time? She was confused, and angry at herself, and all she wanted to do was get away.

  After running for ten minutes she stopped, exhausted. She was in a place where the woods opened up a little and allowed more moonlight in. She stood there, getting her bearings and trying not to think about what she’d felt while Scott was kissing her.

  You liked it. The same voice that had been taunting her all night came again. You liked him kissing you.

  She closed her eyes, trying to will the teasing voice away. Yes, she had liked it. Yes, she had felt something. But she didn’t want to, and maybe if she tried hard enough she could make herself believe that it hadn’t happened.

  “Are you lost?”

  Kate’s eyes flew open. Someone had spoken to her, someone she couldn’t see in the darkness of the forest.

  “Who’s there?” she called softly. “Who said that? Tyler? Is that you?”

  A figure stepped from the shadows. Kate backed away hesitantly. Was it Tyler? She couldn’t tell. It could even be Scott with his flashlight turned off.

  Whoever it was came toward her slowly, in shadows. All she could see at first was a vague outline. But gradually a shape came into view. It was another guy. He was shirtless, and his bare skin shone like pale marble in the moonlight. He had two small horns poking up on either side of his head from a nest of short, curly hair, and a neat goatee covered his chin. Kate couldn’t see what kind of pants he had on, but they seemed to be made out of some sort of fuzzy fabric, as if his whole lower body were covered in fur. Something about the costume was familiar. Then Kate realized what it was—he looked like one of the fauns she had seen in pictures illustrating a book of myths she’d had as a little girl. Half human and half goat, the fauns frolicked around in the woods and were always playing tricks on people.

  “Are you lost?” the faun asked again, looking at Kate with interest.

  “I’m not sure,” Kate answered. “Who are you?”

  “You look lost,” the faun said, not answering her question. “Are you looking for something?”

  Kate assumed that the faun was another part of the Midsummer goings-on. She thought his costume was interesting, but she didn’t have time for games. She needed to find Tyler.

  “I’m looking for someone with a raven mask,” she said. “Have you seen him?”

  The faun shook his head and smiled slyly. “But why would I look for a raven when there’s such a beautiful faerie to talk to?” he said.

  Kate didn’t know what to do next. Scott was somewhere behind her. Tyler was somewhere ahead of her. She didn’t know exactly where either one was, and she was stuck in the middle with this guy who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—tell her anything.

  “I should go find my friend,” she said, hoping the faun wouldn’t be offended if she left him there to play his games with someone else.

  “Won’t you stay and talk to me for a while?” he asked, sounding disappointed.

  “I don’t really have time,” Kate answered.

  The faun looked at her sadly. “Maybe I can help you find what you’re looking for,” he said eagerly.

  “I doubt it,” Kate said. “Not unless you’ve seen the guy with the raven mask.”

  “Sometimes masks hide the truth,” replied the faun. “I asked you what you’re looking for, not who.”

  Great, Kate thought. Another one who likes to talk nonsense. She didn’t need riddles. She needed answers. Better yet, she needed directions. She had no idea where she was, no idea where Tyler was, and no idea how to get where she wanted to be.

  “Kate?” Scott’s voice echoed through the woods. It sounded as if he was right behind her. She looked around frantically. If he found her he would just start trying to get her to come back to him all over again. She needed to get away. But where would she go?

  “Come,” the faun said. “I can help you.”

  Kate glanced at him. She didn’t know anything about him. What if he got her even more lost?

  “Kate?” Scott was getting closer. She could see the beam from his flashlight moving toward her.

  “Come,” the faun said again, holding out his hand.

  Kate reached out to take it, but at the last minute she pulled away. Something about the faun was appealing, but she still didn’t know if he could be trusted. “Thanks,” she said. “I think I can manage.”

  She turned and ran into the darkness, leaving the faun and Scott behind her.

  CHAPTER 9

  Cooper had never seen anyone move as quietly as the Wild Man did. His bare feet made no sound as he made his way through the woods. She tried to be equally quiet, but her clumsy feet seemed to step on every twig and trip over every tree root. While he glided silently between the trees, she felt as if she were crashing through the brush like a frightened animal.

  This really irritated her. She knew that the others wanted her to fail whatever stupid test they’d set up for her, and she wanted to show them up. To make things worse, her supposed guide gave her no indication of where they were going. He just walked. Spider had said that a guide would lead her into the realm of Faerie. What had he meant by that? They were still in the same old woods they’d been in all evening. Was there something waiting for her there—another surprise, perhaps? Where were all the others? Would the Wild Man tell her? Was he bringing her to them? Could he even speak? He hadn’t made so much as a grunt yet.

  The Wild Man stopped walking. He turned to Cooper and pointed to something beside him. Cooper looke
d and realized that they were standing beside a stream. The water in it was running low, and the banks were exposed, revealing thick mud. The Wild Man pointed again. What did he mean? Was she supposed to do something with the mud?

  The Wild Man pointed to his skin and pantomimed rubbing mud on his body. Now Cooper understood. He wanted her to do the same thing. But she didn’t want to. She was comfortable just the way she was. She didn’t want to be filthy. Why did she have to make herself up like the Wild Man? She suspected that he and his buddies were just trying to make her look even more foolish, and she didn’t want to help them out in any way.

  The Wild Man sensed her hesitation and pointed again to the mud. Cooper shook her head, and this time the Wild Man splashed into the water, picked up a handful of mud, and smeared it over his face and chest. The mud was a reddish brown color, and it contrasted with the dried gray mud that already stained his skin.

  Cooper watched as he rubbed mud in his hair and over the rest of himself until he was covered from head to toe in it. He motioned for her to join him in the stream. She started to protest, but then she stopped herself. She had told Bird and Spider that she could do this. She’d promised to see the challenges through. What would they think if she backed out at the very first one? Maybe there really was some point to getting muddy.

  With a sigh, she removed her shoes and stepped into the water. It was cooler than she would have expected for summertime. The Wild Man picked up a handful of mud and handed it to her. She took it from him, feeling the coldness of it on her skin and smelling the rich, earthy scent that rose from it. As he watched, she smeared it on her arm in thick strokes. He nodded approvingly, and she dug her fingers into the mud to get another handful. This she wiped on her legs, covering them in the red color.

  To her surprise, she quickly got into playing in the mud. There was something childlike about it, something primitive and pure that made her feel both happy and secure. She scooped up more and more of it, rubbing it across her chest and over the dress of her costume until she was almost entirely covered in it. Then she picked up more and worked it into her hair, twisting it into spikes and corkscrews that stuck out wildly from her head.

  Her face was last, and she carefully smoothed a film of the mud over her features, being sure not to get it in her eyes or mouth. Throughout the process the Wild Man stood watching her silently. When she was done, he stepped out of the stream and motioned for her to do the same. She left her shoes behind as he led her a little farther downstream to where the water fanned out into a shallow pool. He knelt and motioned for her to do the same. Then he pointed at the surface of the pool.

  Cooper looked at her own reflection. Her muddied face stared back at her, the eyes large blinking circles surrounded by the reddish dirt that had already dried in the warm air. Her hair was a mess, twisted and matted with thick gobs of clay. The Wild Man’s reflection was beside hers, and she couldn’t help but notice how similar they looked now that she had become a creature of the earth, too.

  A creature of the earth. The phrase stuck in her mind. That really was what she’d become—a thing made out of dirt. She turned to the Wild Man. “Is that what this is about” she asked him, “understanding the element of earth?” Wicca was about the cycles of nature, after all. Maybe her test was to experience the elements one at a time or something.

  The Wild Man didn’t respond. Instead, he took something out of a pouch that hung at his side and handed it to Cooper. It was a piece of charred stick.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked.

  The Wild Man pretended to draw on his skin with his finger. Now Cooper understood. He wanted her to draw on the dried clay that covered her skin. But why? What was she supposed to draw?

  She thought for a moment. Then, using the pool as a mirror, she drew a spiral shape on her forehead. “It represents the universe,” she said. It also reminded her of the spiral dances they sometimes did in rituals. Then she drew some star shapes around the spiral. After that she found herself drawing random designs all over herself. She drew lines on her arms and squiggles on her legs. She drew circles and triangles and more stars. She just let her mind run free, and soon she was decorated with all kinds of strange things.

  “How’s that?” she asked the Wild Man when she was done. She wanted to know if she was doing things the right way. But he gave her no indication of being either pleased or dissatisfied with what she’d done. He just looked at her with his deep, dark eyes and then took the piece of charred stick from her and returned it to his bag.

  He began to walk again. Once more Cooper followed. The mud cracked a little as she walked, forming networks of tiny lines across her skin. She liked how it felt. It was as if she’d been made out of the earth itself, formed from the same stuff that made the mountains and rocks. She thought about pictures she’d seen of primitive people, their bodies painted in much the same way hers now was. They’d always looked so strange to her, like things that had crept out of the ground or perhaps the spirits of the land. Yes, that’s how she felt—like some kind of wood spirit. She’d thought her nymph costume had been about becoming a creature of the forest, but this was even better. Now her costume, all covered in mud, was unrecognizable, but she felt more disguised in just the mud than she had in the makeup and material.

  The longer she walked through the forest with the Wild Man, the more she felt like a wild animal herself. Her bare feet felt every stone and pine needle. She smelled like the mud, and she blended into the woods in a way that she hadn’t before. She began to notice that many of the forest animals around them didn’t run when they passed by. Was it because they sensed she was more like them now? By covering up her normal smell with the smell of the earth, had she become that much more like something untamed? The idea of it excited her.

  The Wild Man was walking more slowly now. He was also sniffing the air, his nose twitching as the breeze blew by them. Cooper sniffed, too, but all she smelled was mud. What was the Wild Man looking for?

  The Wild Man looked at Cooper and then crouched on the ground, where he began to draw something in the dirt with a stick. She knelt beside him, looking at the picture he was making. It looked like some kind of circle with four sticks coming out of the bottom. Then he added another circle to it, and suddenly Cooper knew what it was. Or at least she thought she did.

  “Is it a pig?” she said.

  The Wild Man nodded. But Cooper was confused. He was sniffing the air for the scent of a pig? They didn’t have pigs in the woods. At least not the tame kind.

  “A wild pig?” she tried again. “A boar?”

  The Wild Man nodded enthusiastically.

  “There’s a boar in the forest?” Cooper asked. That didn’t seem possible. There were no boars in the woods they were in. She didn’t know if there were any boars living in any forests, for that matter. At least not anymore. She remembered reading about people going boar hunting in a book she had about Camelot and the knights of the Round Table, but that was in England. And it was hundreds of years ago. And it was fiction.

  The Wild Man drew some more pictures. These were smaller circles with what looked like floppy ears. They were running after the boar.

  “Dogs,” Cooper said. “There are dogs hunting the boar. Is that right?”

  Again, the Wild Man nodded in the affirmative, and again he drew a picture. This was unmistakably a horse, and there was someone sitting on it. But who was it? Cooper was already puzzled over the fact that her meditation had taken such a strange turn. She tried to think of what she knew about boars and hunting and Midsummer.

  Something came to her suddenly, something Annie had been telling them on the drive up. She’d been reading up on Midsummer legends, and she’d said something about hunting. What had it been? Cooper had been caught up in the CD that had been playing and hadn’t heard all of what Annie was saying. But she remembered it because one of the phrases had struck her as sounding really cool.

  The Wild Hunt. That was it. Annie ha
d mentioned something about the Wild Hunt. But what had she said exactly? Cooper thought hard. Herne. That was the other name. Herne and the Wild Hunt. It all came back to her now. There was a legend that on Midsummer Eve the immortal hunter Herne took his pack of dogs through the woods in search of a magical boar. She couldn’t remember why, but that wasn’t the important part.

  “Is it the Wild Hunt?” she asked the Wild Man.

  He answered her by tossing the stick away and standing up. Cooper stood, too. The Wild Man was very still, his head tilted to one side. Cooper listened, and soon she heard the sounds of something running through the woods toward them. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of dogs baying. At least it sort of sounded like dogs. It was more like people pretending to be dogs. The more she listened, the more the noises sounded like people running through the woods and barking.

  “What’s going on?” Cooper asked the Wild Man. “Who’s making all that noise?”

  The Wild Man pointed once more to the pictures he’d drawn in the dirt.

  “The Wild Hunt?” Cooper said. “But those don’t sound like real dogs.”

  Then, suddenly, she got it. “It’s people acting out the Wild Hunt, isn’t it?” she said.

  The Wild Man nodded.

  “It’s Spider and the others,” Cooper continued, piecing together the bits of information she had and filling in the empty spaces with her own ideas. “This is all part of the ritual, right? We’re acting out the Wild Hunt?”

  Again the Wild Man nodded.

  “What do we do?” Cooper asked.

  Something crashed through the brush off to their right, making Cooper jump. Was it one of the kids pretending to be a dog? She didn’t see anything. But the gathering dusk made it more difficult to tell what was going on. It could have been someone running, but it could have been something else as well.