Darkling Green

by Kim Thompson

  “Oberon, why did you make a house for Tabitha?” asked Willa.

  “Because she needed one. She can’t live in a bowl all the time!” he answered.

  “She should be up there knitting!” hissed Mab.

  “Dearest, she’s way ahead on the scarf. Have you even looked at it recently?” countered Oberon.

  Willa peeked into the hanging bowl, which indeed was full of coiled scarf.

  “It’s true. Look at it all!” Willa held up a handful. “This should last us the rest of the month. Tabitha deserves a holiday, don’t you think, Mab?” Before she even turned around, Mab had whizzed up into her wasp nest and slammed the door. Willa ran the scarf through her fingers, admiring the leafy pattern once again. As she turned it in the light, however, a new detail was revealed. Eyes looked out from between the leaves, but Willa could only see them with the scarf turned one way. She had a quick flash of her repetitive dreams, the face in the leaves, the grey eyes….

  Tabitha had disappeared inside the dollhouse, and the rabbits were barring the way, shoulder-to-shoulder with swords and shields in front.

  “I need to talk to Tabitha, if you don’t mind,” Willa said firmly. The rabbits eyed Oberon, now reclining on a cushion. He shook his head.

  “Madame Tabitha is not seeing anyone today.”

  “But I was just talking to her!” protested Willa. “Why are you two suddenly such best friends?”

  Oberon shrugged, looking intensely bored. The rabbits stared at her coldly. Willa felt a sudden urge to be swimming, but it was too late now. With a deep sigh she left the house and turned toward home.

  The next day it was still pouring rain. She didn’t go into the house for fear of more turmoil delaying her swim.

  Willa shivered a little as she slipped into the dark water. She swam down and circled the bottom, looking at both time holes, deciding on the smaller one once more. Might as well see where it leads today. She gripped the vine once more and pulled herself through the same cold, slippery space.

  At the other end she found herself enclosed in circular stone walls. Her heart leapt. The well? I’m back in the well!

  She pulled herself up and looked out. Sure enough, it was the same well in the same place. The hut was there, and the goat. Gwyneth’s cat lay sleeping in the sunshine. Willa stared at the scene in shock.

  It’s exactly the same place and time. But how can that be? The time hole hasn’t shifted in five days. Is that possible?

  The cat looked at her. He jumped up and trotted around the side of the hut, returning in a few moments with the black-haired girl. She held a thin black rope in her hand, attached to something shiny that banged on the ground behind her.

  “Good morrow to ye,” she said, hopping up to sit on the side of the well. “How are things in the well today?”

  “I don’t actually live in here,” said Willa, grinning happily. “I come from another land. In the future. I think.” She was elated with the wonder of it all, with being here, chatting again with this girl from another time. Willa pointed to the bubble around her middle. “My world is connected to yours by this. It’s a time hole.”

  The cat mewed loudly, and his eyes narrowed. Gwyneth turned back to Willa. “Loom says that’s impossible. He says time holes dinna stay in one place. They move around.”

  “Usually they do, but this one seems special for some reason,” replied Willa.

  Gwyneth turned to the cat again, annoyed. “Why haven’t ye taught me ’bout time holes?” The cat mewed back, and Gwyneth sighed. “Says I’m not ready for them.”

  “He’s teaching you?”

  “Of course. He’s teachin’ me the witchin’ arts. I wouldn’t be gettin’ very far on my own now, would I?”

  Willa considered this. “Is magic pretty common here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can everyone do magic?”

  “Nay, but there are plenty of us who can. An’ there’s no end of work to do. The dark is all around, you know.”

  “The dark?”

  “Aye. We’re battlin’ it all th’ time, that’s why we’re needin’ all the witches we can train.”

  “I’ve only come face-to-face with the dark side a couple of times. It seems to have a lot of trouble breaking through to my world.”

  Gwyneth laughed. “Sounds dead boring. I enjoy a good fight.” She pointed to the vine. “What do ye know about this?”

  “Not very much, I’m afraid, other than it goes all the way through to my world. And it grows really fast.”

  “It sprouted up over that way.” Gwyneth gestured toward the woods. “Grew straight on toward the well, and then into it. We’re not sure what it is, exactly, but we’re keepin’ an eye on it.”

  “Sorry I can’t tell you any more,” said Willa, then she looked her in the eyes and thought—

  You can send messages like this, can’t you?

  Gwyneth grinned. Since I was a young ’un. Easy as porridge.

  I’ve only just learned how.

  Are ye human or elf?

  Human … and mermaid.

  That makes sense. I’m half elfling on my ma’s side.

  Do you live on your own here?

  Aye, since I was seven. My ma and pa were killed fightin’ mountain trolls.

  I’m so sorry.

  Gwyneth looked at her brightly. Oh, it’s all right. I’ve got everythin’ I’m needin’, and the villagers are grand. Lots of excitement, lots to do.

  Then she squinted thoughtfully at Willa and muttered to herself. “Ye look so familiar.” Loom meowed loudly and pawed at Gwyneth’s leg.

  “Oh, all right. I’ve got to go,” said Gwyneth, jumping down. “Loom needs his dinner.” As she started away Willa got a better look at the shiny thing she was dragging behind her.

  “Wait,” said Willa, staring. “Where did you get that?”

  Gwyneth raised the black cord, and the shiny metal box dangled in front of her. “I found it floatin’ in the well a while back. I think it’s some manner of weapon. Watch!” Gwyneth swung it in circles above her head and then whipped it around a nearby tree. As the box circled the trunk, Gwyneth performed two rapid loops around it with the cord and pulled it tight, exactly like a cowboy might rope a steer.

  “Nice,” said Willa with a smile. “But it’s not a weapon. It’s a toaster.”

  “You mean for makin’ toast? I should think a sharp stick would work much better!” Gwyneth unlooped the cord and swung the toaster neatly into her hand. “Come along, Loom. Fare thee well, Willa!” She strode away and then called over her shoulder. “Keep an eye out for me bucket down there, will ye?”

  “Sure, bye!”

  Willa lowered herself into the well, lost in thought. That looks like our toaster. The one that fell into the time hole when it went through the house. And her missing bucket is probably the one Tengu found that night too.

  She moved through the dark tunnel, her thoughts in a whirl.

  Which means this time hole has connected us to the holy well from the very beginning!

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The man of Darkling Green

  When emerged at the other end, the rain had stopped. She floated on her back for a while, thinking. She’d have to ask Horace about this. Maybe the holy well was a time wrinkle too, just like their pool. If this time hole was actually stuck at both ends, it could very well be a permanent passageway to the Middle Ages and her new friend, Gwyneth the witch. Willa grinned from ear to ear.

  She gazed at the woods beyond the pool. The upper canopy was so dense, it completely blocked the light. A closer look revealed that the denseness was due to vines, clinging and growing up the tree trunks and filling in the forest ceiling. Willa suddenly remembered the mass of vines at the back wall. She climbed out of the pool, dried herself off, and made her way through the dark and gloom
y woods.

  The wall was now so completely covered that it looked like it was made of leaves. There was a figure there in the dark, and she nearly jumped out of her skin before realizing it was just the cluster of vines she’d seen before, grown larger. It looked uncannily like a large man sitting with his back against the wall, his head bowed forward as if asleep. It was like those specially trimmed bushes you sometimes see in gardens, trimmed into the shapes of animals and birds. Willa walked around it, observing it from all sides. It was so lifelike that the chest and shoulders even seemed to rise and fall with breath.

  It’s because of the breeze, Willa told herself, but she backed away quietly, afraid to disturb it.

  The next day Willa knocked on Tengu’s door. They were hard at work, Horace madly scribbling notes while Tengu barked commands to the blindfolded basilisk.

  “Two steps to the left … one step forward … three steps backward….”

  To Willa’s amazement, the basilisk was following his instructions to the letter. Tengu let out a low whistle, and the creature jumped meekly onto his shoulder.

  “Say hello to Willa. She is a friend.”

  The basilisk nodded twice and squawked.

  “That is amazing!” exclaimed Willa.

  “The basilisk has a tremendous aptitude for language acquisition,” Horace enthused. He pointed to reams of handwritten notes. “I’m documenting everything for publication. We’ve entered uncharted territory, scientifically speaking.”

  “What about the blindfold? Are you still planning to take it off?”

  Tengu and Horace exchanged nervous looks. Finally Horace answered, “Not quite yet.”

  “I’ve got something else that might interest you, about the time wrinkle in our pool….” Willa stopped.

  “Hmm? What pool?” Horace looked up at her, and there was an odd blankness in his eye that she knew well. His memory is slipping again. “Never mind, I’ll tell you later. Tengu, do you still have the bucket that fell out of the time hole?”

  He nodded.

  “Can I have it, please?”

  Willa pulled herself through the small time hole once more, the bucket handle looped over one arm. She was fairly certain she’d come out in the well again, but she was nervous all the same. Her head popped out of the water, and her heart leaped to see the familiar stone walls.

  It was darker this time, she guessed early evening. There was no light or sign of life in the hut. Willa lifted the bucket up onto the edge of the well and rested there a moment, drinking in the peaceful scene.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hooves. She waited and watched. In the fading light she saw a white shape emerge from the trees. Willa squinted, doubting her own eyes. It was a large white horse with a long white horn.

  Holy moley! It’s a unicorn!

  Trembling with excitement, Willa watched him approach the well, unconcerned about her presence. He sniffed her and snorted softly. Willa shifted to the side to make room for him to drink from the well.

  Then the unicorn noticed the vine and sniffed at it, growing more and more agitated. With his nose to the ground, he began to follow the vine toward the trees.

  Willa pulled herself up a little higher, even daring to pull her feet right out of the water. She sat on the edge of the well and looked down at the silvery bubble with her reflection in the middle of it.

  It’s not going anywhere. It hasn’t budged in a whole month.

  She swung her legs over the side, dropped to the ground, and hurried after the unicorn. A short distance into the woods, the unicorn stopped. Willa had to step around him, and what she saw made her catch her breath.

  In front of her was a mass of vines grown up into the shape of a seated person, its head bowed, identical to the figure at Eldritch Manor.

  Willa felt the unicorn’s nose pushing at her, and she turned away from the figure. They walked together back to the well. She ran her hand down his nose and he turned to leave.

  Goodbye, she thought.

  Be careful, came the reply as the unicorn plodded away.

  Wait! Be careful of what? Willa asked as he disappeared into the woods. There was no answer. She stayed a while longer, lost in thought. She wished Gwyneth was there to talk to, but it was obvious she was out, so Willa climbed back into the well.

  She found Belle in her chair at the edge of the pool, yawning. “Sorry. I was napping. The days are just so long!”

  “Belle!” exclaimed Willa. “I saw a unicorn!”

  “That’s nice,” Belle answered, handing her a towel.

  Willa pulled herself out of the pool. “I went through the smaller time hole. It always ends in the same place and the same time.”

  “Nonsense,” said Belle. “Time holes don’t work that way.”

  “This one does,” said Willa. “It goes to a holy well in medieval times, and I met a girl there who’s a witch. And the vines there are growing in the shape of a person, just the same as here….” She trailed off.

  “Mm-hmm,” Belle said with another yawn.

  Willa looked at her carefully. “Are you angry at me for going without you?”

  Belle laughed. “Nope. That’s called freedom, kiddo. Enjoy it! You can’t get that at home, can you?”

  “I guess not.”

  “It’s a crying shame. Human beings are so tied down with the cares of the world that they don’t even know what freedom is. They’re scared of it.”

  Willa started to pull her clothes on. She hadn’t thought of it like that before. Swimming did feel like freedom.

  “It’s the same here,” she observed. “I can’t walk two steps in the door without hearing about everybody’s problems.”

  Belle burst into laughter. “That’s right, that’s right. Everyone’s trying to tie you up, pull you down. When it gets to be too much, you’ve just got to …” Here she held up her hands, palms together, and pulled them apart, “… detach.”

  Willa suddenly thought of Belle leaving Grandpa and her mom. Detach. Simple as that.

  “Sure. Detach.” Willa’s voice was cold. Belle looked at her quizzically, but Willa didn’t say anything more. She just packed her bag and walked away.

  Grey eyes fringed with leaves. The solemn mouth. Willa stared into the face once more. She was just about to ask her question when the leaves shifted and the mouth opened. The leaves parted to reveal a great black space beyond, and the mouth formed words that Willa felt vibrating in her chest:

  Who are you?

  The question was directed at her this time. Willa opened her mouth to answer, but there was a tickling in her throat, and out of her mouth flowed vines, branches, leaves, and flowers, hitting the floor and pooling around her. Soon she was swimming in branches that scratched and tore at her skin. The surface of the greenery rippled, and a wave covered her face.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A tsunami of trouble

  She wasn’t able to visit Gwyneth the next day. Argus was waiting for her on the porch, his face drawn in worry.

  “Come. Hurry,” was all he said, leading her to Miss Trang’s room. Horace, Baz, Belle, Mab, Tengu, Robert, and Mjodvitnir were all there and all looking anxious. Miss Trang lay in bed, still asleep, the sound of her raspy breathing filling the room. All dragon traces were gone. She looked very human, and very ill. Her skin was yellow, and her face was beaded with sweat, even though she was shivering. Horace held her wrist, taking her pulse.

  “What’s wrong with her?” whispered Willa.

  “We don’t know,” answered Argus. “A few days ago she looked fine, like she was about to wake up, and now …” He gestured helplessly.

  “Should we call a doctor?” asked Willa.

  Horace tucked Miss Trang’s hand under the covers. “Your doctors couldn’t help here,” he said. “Dragon physiognomy and all. Besides, I don’t think it’s a simple
illness.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s not a simple patient.”

  Willa looked at her sadly. “I suppose not.”

  Horace began ushering everyone out of the room. “We’ll take turns watching her, and hopefully whatever it is will pass. Maybe it’s just some kind of dragon flu.”

  In the hall, Willa felt something underfoot and was surprised to see a plant sprouting up between the floorboards.

  “Look.” She pointed at the sprout. “Where is this coming from?”

  Mjodvitnir opened the ramp. The basement was still under a few inches of water, and the walls were fuzzy and green.

  Robert cursed. “Moss! My room is covered in stinking moss!”

  Not only that, but over top of the moss were leafy vines growing up the walls. They disappeared into the ceiling, squeezing between the boards. Mjodvitnir shook his head.

  “This is not normal. Those plants are not of this world.”

  “That could be,” said Willa. “And I know where they’re coming from.”

  She led Horace, Robert, and Mjodvitnir to the pool and brushed aside the green slurry that covered the surface so they could see beneath it.

  “The time holes,” she explained. “The two time holes that settled into the pool are both still down there and out of that one …” she pointed, “… the smaller one, see it? There’s a small vine growing out of it, and everything here is branching out from it.”

  Horace peered down, tracing the path with his finger. “That one vine … and now it’s covering the forest floor….”

  “Going all the way to the back wall….” added Willa.

  “Up over the top of the trees,” observed Robert. “And along the ground to the house.”

  Horace was lost in thought. “All this growth after just one month.” He stepped forward to look into the pool again. “What do we know about that particular time hole?”