by Jack Porter
“Remind me what dryads are again?”
Wren laughed. “Everyone knows what they are, even if they’ve never seen one.”
“Uh huh,” I said. “Tell me.”
“They are nymphs who live in trees. Well, they don’t live in trees, exactly, but they are the spirits of some trees. Wood nymphs.”
I’d heard of something similar in the last forest I’d traveled in Hell, on my way to the Slavers’ Bowl with Nya’s company. But we’d never seen any. “Are they something to worry about?”
Wren shrugged. “They can become territorial or angry if you try to sleep in their tree or chop it down. I ran across one when I was very small, and it chased me all the way across the forest, where I managed to escape by climbing some rocks. Dryads have more trouble outside the trees.”
“Remind me not to chop down any trees while we’re here. Can you tell which ones have dryads?”
Wren shook her head. “It is difficult. And I don’t remember much about them.”
“You say they are the only ones in Hell? How do you know?”
“Everyone knows this, Jon.”
I sighed. “I don’t.”
“You must be from somewhere far away,” she said, looking up at me. She was so small and sure-footed that she didn’t have any trouble walking beside me, even if it meant she was clambering over more roots and limbs than I was.
“I’m not from here,” I said. “My land is far away.”
Wren nodded. “I thought so. You don’t seem like any of the human men or male elves I’ve ever met.”
Smiling, I looked down at her. “So I’ve been told. But I came here by accident, and now I’m trying to...”
I trailed off. I didn’t know what I was trying to do exactly. My original goal of going through the portal and going back to my world seemed far away, as if another person had wished for that. And, indeed, I had changed. If I went back to New Jersey now, would I still be able to wield magic? Would I be as strong? There was no way of knowing. And somehow, despite my struggles with the darkness, I didn’t want to give those things up.
And then there were the girls. Ilana had expressed a desire to go back with me although I had no idea how we would keep her wings hidden. And Sarina... Sarina might not fit in there. Sure, she would blend in better than Ilana, but there were few battles for her to join that would satisfy her. At least, I guessed at all of this. I’d never talked to her about it. Leaving was not on my mind right now. Finding out about my past and how to defeat the Wraith King was all that really mattered. And I couldn’t imagine leaving Ilana or Sarina, or Nya or Syn, either. No, my old life was far away.
Still, it would have been nice to have the choice. I didn’t know exactly why I’d ended up in Hell, but I no longer thought it was a coincidence.
“Do you know any history of Hell?” I asked Wren. It was something I often wondered about. If this Hell was the mythological Hell of my world. Again, it seemed too big a coincidence not to be.
But Wren shook her head. “Only what I’ve heard others talk about. Slavers and mistresses and sometimes people at the tavern.”
“How long were you there?” I asked.
“Five years.” Wren’s face hardened. “And it was the worst of the places I served. Ina, my mistress, was a hard person to work for. She bought me after my last mistress died. I liked my last one, and she had been mostly kind to me. But Ina was different. She beat me sometimes just for the fun of it.”
Wren grew silent, and I glanced at her just before ducking beneath an overhanging limb. My horse put her head down, following me. So far Sarina had been right, though, there wasn’t enough room to ride, but we didn’t need to worry about the horses getting stuck if we were careful.
“And she passed me around to her customers,” Wren said angrily. “And charged them for the pleasure of using me. I told her I wasn’t that kind of slave, but she only beat me harder and threatened to cut off my ears.” Wren laughed humorlessly. “I told her that her customers wouldn’t pay so much for me if I didn’t have my pointy ears.”
“That must have made her angry,” I said hesitantly.
“Yes, and she beat me harder for it. But she didn’t cut off my ears.” Wren smiled. Then, she looked at me with her purple eyes. “You stood up to her, though. I’d never seen anyone do that. And it... it gave me hope that I could do the same.”
Anger surged through me once again at the memory of the barkeep beating Wren. “I don’t have any tolerance for that sort of thing. She deserved what she got,” I said.
We were approaching a place where the ground softened and was turning to mud. The vegetation grew thicker, and we had to step more carefully. I didn’t want our horses to become mired in a bog.
“It is the way of Hell, though,” Wren said after a bit. “It has always had slaves.”
“Has it? I was under the impression that the Wraith King created the institution of slavery here.”
Wren shook her head. “That’s not the way I heard it. But he has made it greater. And before he came along, I believe it was not as bad for slaves.”
“Well, it doesn’t make it better,” I said.
“You have grand ideas, Jon,” Wren said. Then she smiled and walked ahead of me. The way her hips moved among the leaves, she barely disturbed them. And her bare feet left no sound. If she wanted to, she could slip off without us knowing, if we didn’t see her. Even her tunic blended in with the vegetation. Her hips were beautifully curved, though. Not very wide, but she still had a distinct femininity that aroused me.
Blinking and looking away, I focused on the ground at my feet and tried to see what was further ahead. This forest was denser and richer than the one I’d been in before, and visibility was worse.
Finally, we arrived at a swampy area that had lots of red mud. But the horses were hot and thirsty, so we sanctified the water in large skins for them to drink. Wild animals in Hell, or Hell beasts, didn’t have to sanctify the water. But domesticated animals did. It was another quirk of the land that was troublesome and made traveling that much harder because we had to sanctify enough water for the horses as well as ourselves.
The swamp didn’t get much light. Only a bit of red sky managed to light the smooth, glassy surface. And the bank was wet mud. It turned out that only Wren could walk over it without sinking into the mire, and we had to keep the horses well away from it.
When Wren returned hauling full skins of water, we found dry patches of earth to sit and rest for a few minutes. The horses drank greedily, and I noticed their coats were wet with sweat. This forest was worse than being out in the open, and even though it was still a dry heat, mostly, and was free from ash, it stank of rot, with little to no movement of the air.
“Is the Sacred Forest like this, too?” I asked, wondering how the wood elves made it their home.
“No,” Wren said. “That forest is less wild. But they have other dangers to deal with.”
“Such as?” Sarina asked.
“Witches, mostly,” the half-elf said. “Sometimes other enemies who try to take what the elves have worked so hard for.”
“Great,” I said, taking a drink of water. It was stale and tasted like mud.
I felt drowsy, and since it was close to midday, we ate dried meat and made sure everyone got plenty to drink. I stood and walked a few paces away to relieve myself, when I saw something hanging in a tree.
Or rather, someone hanging from a tree. Someone in a white shift.
Crouching down, I crept closer, using the trees for cover, and finally made my way over to get a better look.
And I almost yelled in shock.
It was an elf with blonde hair, hanging by her neck from a tall, sturdy branch. Her eyes were bugged out and the color of her skin suggested she had been dead for several hours. But there was no mistaking her identity.
It was Nya.
14
I reeled backward into a tree, and suddenly my lungs didn’t seem to want to pull in any air. My ribs we
re constricting, my throat closing.
And all I could do was stare up at my friend and lover, who had been left there to rot.
With spots moving in at the edges of my vision, I tried to breathe. In and out. And then another body caught my eye. A dark elf with long white braids.
Syn.
She was swinging from a tree not far away, as if she had just had her neck snapped.
If I could have screamed in agony, I would have, but my lungs wouldn’t work at all.
Unable to bear looking at the elves, I tried to turn away.
But around me, all I saw were the bodies of people I loved.
Ilana, her wings hanging crookedly as she swung from her neck.
Sarina, her scarred body looking even more battered and her hair covering her face. But I would recognize her wavy red lengths anywhere even if I couldn’t see her face.
Tears ran down my face, and I wanted to tear out my hair in grief. But my hands had started to seize up, as if I was having a panic attack.
My brain wasn’t working properly either, probably from lack of oxygen, and even as I realized it, I didn’t quite understand something.
Sitting down with the tree at my back, I felt like there was something I was missing. With the spots still dancing over my vision, I knew if I didn’t breathe soon, I would pass out. But there was a key element that my brain was trying to wrap itself around. And, through the fog and the grief, I finally realized what it was.
That couldn’t be Ilana and Sarina there, because I had left them only moments ago.
And… Nya and Syn were far away from here, in Castle Blackhold.
Suddenly, my lungs took a great gulp of air, and I lay there panting, trying not to lose consciousness and to keep hold of the knowledge I knew must be true.
It’s just a vision. Or a nightmare. It’s not real. It’s not real.
It’s not real.
When I was finally breathing better and my heart stopped trying to pound its way out of my chest, I rubbed my hands in my eyes and looked again.
The bodies were gone.
As soon as I could gain my feet, I stumbled back to the edge of the pool. I must have looked terrible because Sarina and Ilana both jumped to their feet when they saw me. With the two of them supporting me, I collapsed to the ground, holding both of them, trying to keep myself in check. I really didn’t want to cry in front of them.
The girls hugged me back, but Sarina pulled away to wipe the tears from my face. I felt the dirt smudge she left with her finger.
“What happened?” she asked.
But no way in Hell was I telling them anything. I just shook my head, willing my body to get under control.
Sarina let me pull her back to my chest, and I looked over her hair to Wren’s confused face.
“I’m okay,” I said, proud that I kept my voice steady. “I just… I saw something in the trees that wasn’t really there.”
Ilana pulled away from me and took my face in her hands. “What did you see?” she asked sharply. “Tell me, Jon.”
But I shook my head again. “No, I won’t tell you. It wasn’t real, but it was terrible.”
I knew that the memory of seeing Ilana’s body swinging from the tree would haunt me until the day I died.
“A vision?” Wren asked.
Ilana looked over to her. “Do you know something about this?”
But the tiny half-elf shook her head rapidly. “No, only that sometimes the forest plays tricks with the mind. Especially with those who already have magic of their own.”
My relief turned to anger. “Nice of you to tell us,” I snarled.
Wren looked chagrined, but then she raised her chin defiantly once again. “I didn’t remember! I haven’t been here for many years.”
“Jon,” Sarina said gently. “She can’t be expected to remember all the dangers of the forest after so long.”
I realized I had clenched my fists, and made a herculean effort to relax. After a moment, I looked back at Wren. “You are right. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, and for a moment, she did look frightened. Perhaps no one had ever apologized to her before. “No need for that,” she said.
“Yes, there is.” I finally let go of Ilana and Sarina, and after looking at them one more time to make sure they were really there, I stood and took a step toward Wren. “You deserve to be treated as well as anyone else. So, yes, I’ll apologize. And, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to accept it.”
Her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, and she nodded. “I accept it,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”
Clearing my throat, I looked back at the water that looked deceptively calm. “Did anyone else have any visions?”
Everyone shook their heads. So it was just me. Perfect. More quirks for me to figure out.
“Okay, then. Let’s get out of this fucking place. No, not that way,” I said to Wren, who had turned my horse’s head toward the tree I had seen Ilana hanging from. “Let’s make a wider circle. This place gives me the creeps.”
Indeed, out of all the horrors I had witnessed in Hell, that vision scared me more than anything else.
I wondered if I was right to take Ilana and Sarina with me. But they had decided to come on their own, and I couldn’t take their choice away from them.
I would just have to make sure they stayed safe.
15
We hadn’t gone far before the trees began moving strangely. It was as if a whisper of wind disturbed them, but it didn’t act exactly like wind. The trees to our left and right moved oppositely each other, twisting about with a rustling sound that grew louder as we moved deeper into the forest. The horses began to fidget, dancing or sidestepping as we walked. My horse tossed her head and her ears moved back and forth.
I looked at Wren, who was again walking beside me, and she shrugged her shoulders. Ilana and Sarina didn’t know, either, but Sarina summoned Wren back to her, then handed her gelding’s reins over before transforming into a Hellhound. I unsheathed my broadsword from over my shoulder and walked with it ready.
The rustling grew louder, as if a windstorm was whipping the trees into a frenzy, but we didn’t feel any wind on our faces. The forest was otherwise still.
Then, I saw her.
A shimmering woman, naked and semi-transparent. Her walnut-colored hair had leaves woven into it. And on anyone else, it would have looked like a tangled mess. But with her, it only added to her beauty.
Because she was gorgeous. Her hourglass figure was the picture of perfection, with everything proportioned perfectly. It was as if she had been carved out of the air by a master.
I saw the forest through her and wondered if she was a ghost. But then she picked up a fallen leaf from the ground and brought it up to her nose to smell.
Needless to say, our party halted in our tracks.
Ilana moved up to me. “A dryad,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen one, but that’s what she has to be.”
I nodded, and, realizing my sword wouldn’t do any good in this situation, sheathed it back over my shoulder.
Sarina, in her Hellhound form, walked up to stand not far away in the trees, watching with her yellow eyes.
“Welcome, strangers,” the dryad said.
I nodded, unsure what the etiquette was for meeting a dryad for the first time. “Hello,” I said. The trees continued to make noise, and I suspected either the dryad was doing this, or they were moving on their own. The last option didn’t sit well with me.
The dryad studied me, her gaze neither kind nor angry, as if she was simply curious about the travelers in her forest.
“You have come,” she said finally.
“Who?” I asked, a bit dumbly.
“The one who will change all of Hell,” she said, and then she smiled knowingly, as if she had a secret. “I saw your vision near the cursed pool. It was one of terror.”
My heart began racing again, and all I could do was nod once more. “You were there?”
<
br /> “Yes,” she said simply, taking a few steps closer. Her body moved with a grace unlike any I’d ever encountered, even among the elves.
Sarina let out a low growl as the dryad approached, and she halted. “You can tell your friend that I only want to question your motives for being in the forest. Not to do any harm. Unless it is warranted, of course.”
“You said the pool is cursed?” I asked, diverting the dryad’s attention away from Sarina.
The dryad nodded. “Yes, and many who drink from it do not survive. You are lucky, I think. And yet,” she paused looking at me more closely, “those who have great magic often have a harder time of it when they do drink of the pool.”
I didn’t confirm anything. Nor did I want to relive the vision again, but a bead of sweat formed on my forehead nonetheless.
The dryad moved even closer, now looking at my horse, at Ilana, and then letting her gaze fall to Wren behind us, who was holding two horses at this point. The dryad smiled, and this time there was no doubt about its genuineness. “I like that one. She is a child of the forest, isn’t she?”
I glanced back at Wren, who pulled the horses a bit closer to her as if in protection.
The dryad continued speaking as if someone had confirmed her words. “Yes, she is beautiful, and has a kind heart. I would like her to stay, as payment for passing through this forest.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware there was a toll.”
“Oh, yes,” the dryad said sweetly. “Is that not why you brought this exquisite thing to me?” She moved as if to pass me and go to Wren, but I held up a hand to block her path. She looked at my arm and smiled, but it wasn’t as sweetly. Her hair waved around her as if there was a strong wind, and I caught a whiff of blossoms and tree bark.
“That’s far enough, please,” I said, wishing I knew how harmful this dryad could be. Because there was no way I was leaving Wren here with her, unless of course she wanted to stay.
The dryad turned her attention to me completely now, and stepped forward. “You are protective of the half-elf? So you didn’t bring her for me?”