Shadow Tree

by Jake Halpern

  Alfonso was staring so intently at the ground below that he barely noticed that Marta was standing right beside him. “That’s what I saw,” she whispered into his ear.

  “What are you talking about?” he whispered back.

  “When I had my vision earlier – you know, back in the field, by the obelisk – I had a vision like this,” said Marta. “It was summer, but everything was dead.”

  “How far into the future are we talking?” asked Alfonso.

  “A long time,” said Marta.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because of the mountains,” she replied. “They had changed. The peaks were worn down. They had eroded. That takes a very long time – at least I think it does – centuries, probably longer. You understand what I’m trying to say, right?”

  “If the Shadow Tree grows, the damage... it’ll be lasting.”

  Marta nodded.

  “Alfonso,” she whispered. “I overheard what you said to your dad.”

  “You did?”

  Marta nodded.

  “It’s not his fault,” said Alfonso. “He just doesn’t want anything bad to happen to me, but I don’t think he gets what’s coming – not really.”

  “But I do,” said Marta. “That’s why I didn’t go back to Jasber. Even though I want to see my family so badly, I’ve seen what’s coming. And, if it comes to it, I’ll help you do what you have to. I will.”

  “You don’t sound like any nine-year-old girl I’ve ever met,” whispered Alfonso.

  “You’re starting to get it, aren’t you?” she replied. “I’m not nine any more than you are fifteen. None of that matters any more. We’re nine, and fifteen, and thirty-six, and ninety-eight all at once. We’re agelings. And there are only two of us, so we better stick together.”

  Alfonso nodded. He reached into his pocket and took out the small piece of paper in which the two scenarios of Imad’s prophecy were written. For some reason, Alfonso had kept the paper, instead of returning it to his father. He re-read Imad’s word for the umpteenth time.

  “Do you believe it?” asked Marta.

  “I don’t know,” replied Alfonso.

  A few minutes later, the airship crossed over a small clearing in the woods, and Nathalia glanced down and saw a number of shadowy figures dashing in and out of the woods. “There's something down there,” she muttered, almost to herself. No one spoke as Nathalia navigated them the last few miles. Kolo made gestures with his hands, but said nothing. By the time they neared the spot where the rivers actually converged, the sun was down and it was pitch black. The only lights were two flickers of red in the middle distance.

  “That’s a small Dragoonya fort,” whispered Kolo.

  “You didn’t mention that,” growled Nathalia.

  Kolo said nothing.

  Nathalia eased the ship downward and landed in a ravine near the fort.

  “This is the wrong place!” said Kolo. “I’ll take you to the right place.”

  “I think we’ve had enough of your advice for one day,” Nathalia replied.

  “We should probably keep going and cross the forest through the air,” said Alfonso. “Don’t you think?”

  “We’ll never make it,” replied Nathalia, “The wind is way too strong. Besides, we’re almost out of fuel.”

  “What does the ship run on?” asked Alfonso.

  “Kerosene,’” said Nathalia.

  “Do you think they might have any kerosene in the fort?” asked Alfonso.

  “Could be,” said Leif. “But it seems awfully risky. We can’t just go and knock on the door and ask for it.”

  “Why don’t we at least have a look,” said Nathalia. As she said this, she stood up and headed over to the door of the airship. “We can climb up to the top of the ravine and observe from afar – see if we can spot anything.”

  “I’ll do it,” said Leif.

  “That’s not necessary,” said Nathalia.

  “I know,” said Leif. “But...”

  “I’ll be okay,” said Nathalia.

  Leif started to object again – he didn’t want anything happening to Nathalia – but by the time he opened his mouth, she was out the door. The others sat there, barely daring to breathe. Every sound from the outside seemed to magnify and echo through the thin walls of the airship. Every so often, they heard a distant howl. It started low and then ended in a terrifying high pitch. Alfonso had heard wolves back in World’s End, Minnesota, but these noises were different. His skin crawled from the sound, and from the looks of the others, it was a common effect.

  About a half hour later, Nathalia crept back into the airship, and closed the door behind her. She was smiling.

  “The fort is poorly guarded,” she said. “There are only two guards on duty.”

  “Let’s just avoid the fort completely and go into the forest,” said Leif.

  Nathalia shook her head. “They got a bunch of lamps on the outside of that fort and they look like kerosene lamps to me,” she said. “If we can get some of that kerosene we’ll be golden. But it’ll be tricky. We’d need an elegant way of doing it.” She looked around.

  “I have an idea,” said Marta.

  Chapter 30: A Tender Reunion

  Resuza woke up slowly, groggily, like an animal waking from hibernation. The delicious warmth of the ship was so unlike the dampness of the slave quarters that it had made her and Hill almost delirious. How long had they been in this darkened room? It was hard to tell. Several hours at least, but then several thoughts wandered into Resuza’s tired mind and forced her to wake up. Where was Naomi? Why wasn’t she here? Was it her sister who had provided the soft blankets and food they had found? It couldn’t have been anyone else.

  Resuza sat up and stretched. Hill began to stir and finally, he sat up as well.

  “Naomi still isn’t here,” he remarked as he rubbed his eyes.

  Resuza shook her head.

  “Strange,” said Hill.

  “Do you think something’s wrong?” Resuza asked.

  Hill shrugged. “Who knows?” he said, stifling a yawn. His thoughts were still too muddled to think properly. It had been ages since he had slept so well. “Can you pass that bread? I’m ravenous. We haven’t had food this good in months, maybe years.”

  Resuza smiled. “The last time it was this good was back at the lighthouse,” said Resuza. “Remember that mutton stew and spiced caramel they had for desert?” As she said this, almost involuntarily, she thought of Alfonso. She remembered sitting with him, in his bedroom in the lighthouse, sipping hot cocoa as the waves crashed below. And she remembered kissing him, ever so briefly. That was months ago and, strange as it was to say, that was her last good memory. The thought both cheered her and depressed her all at once. And now where was Alfonso? No idea. What were the chances that he was even alive? No, she told herself, she mustn’t think that.

  “I think of that meal at the lighthouse just about every day,” said Hill with a sigh. “But this food is a reminder. If we can get out of here, we’ll be eating like that again.”

  “If we make it out of here, what’s our destination?” Resuza asked.

  “Back to the Sea of Clouds,” Hill quickly replied. “We need to find Alfonso.”

  With a rising excitement, they began to discuss how they might go about searching for Alfonso. They were so engrossed in their conversation that the telltale sigh of a door opening escaped their attention. It was only when a floorboard uttered a creak that they realized someone had entered their small room. A match flared in the darkness and moved towards a fat candle. The candle wick lit and threw a dull light over several feet. Just behind the candle, her hair flickering in the light, stood a young, thin girl with a nervous expression on her face. Her hands clutched the candle but her fingers were in constant motion.

  Resuza stood up and took a step forward. Time seemed to slow down. She had dreamed of this moment for so many years and now that it was actually happening, she felt distant from it, as if she was f
loating above her body and looking down on the scene.

  “Naomi?”

  The hands stopped moving and the candle slowly moved up towards the face. Resuza took another step forward and as she did so, Naomi’s face came into the light. Resuza stood there, immobile. When she had last seen Naomi, her younger sister had just begun to speak in complete sentences. She was just a toddler. And now she stood in front of Resuza, nearly the same height, with hair that hung straight and long like Resuza.

  Naomi looked at Resuza, and smiled. It was a nervous, reluctant smile, but it was a smile nonetheless, and it lit up Resuza’s heart like a beacon in the darkness. Resuza covered the distance between them, opened her arms and with a sob she flung them around Naomi’s shoulders.

  “It’s you, it’s really you,” she whispered into her neck.

  “Yes,” replied Naomi, taking a tender step backwards. “It is really me.”

  “Are you okay?” asked Resuza, stifling a sob. “Tell me you’re okay. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day...”

  “Since the day that I was abandoned,” finished Naomi. There was a slight edge in her voice. “Yes, I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.”

  “Naomi,” said Resuza, her voice was ragged with emotion, “We’ve both been through an awful lot and I am so, so sorry that I left you and I will make it up to you – you will see – I will be there for you now, I promise, I really do.”

  These words obviously affected Naomi. Her face tensed up and it looked as if she were about to cry. However, she made no reply, nor did she move to hug Resuza. The two sisters stood in darkness, silently – close but not touching. There was both everything and nothing to say.

  Hill was only half paying attention to any of this. He was on full alert and listened for other noises that might indicate that Naomi did not come alone. At first he sensed nothing, but then he heard something that made his heart sink. There was someone else in the room and whoever it was had just shifted their weight from one foot to another right by the entrance.

  He stood up noiselessly and leaned over towards Resuza. He patted her lightly on the shoulder, but she did not respond. She appeared to be in a trance, staring at her long-lost sister.

  “We’re ready,” Resuza said finally. “We’ll go wherever you take us, all that matters is that we stick together.”

  “Good,” said Naomi, she too was still struggling to control her emotions. “That’s good.”

  “Wait a minute,” interrupted Hill loudly. Naomi was startled.

  “Wait for what?” asked Resuza somewhat annoyed.

  “There’s someone else in this room,” Hill said. “You there – by the doorway – who are you?”

  Another match flared near the doorway and a suddenly visible hand lit a candle. “After all we’ve been through, don’t ya think I should get a tender reunion?”

  Bilblox stood at the doorway and smiled at the three of them.

  “Bilblox!” Resuza yelled. “You’re here – you’re alive!” She ran to him and flung her arms around his thick neck. “But how?”

  “It’s a very long story,” said Bilblox slowly, carefully, as if he were choosing his words with great care. “And I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Naomi and the fact that the Dragoonya have taken such a liking to her.” As he said this, Bilblox looked at Naomi intensely – almost glaring at her – daring her to contradict him.

  “We saw you on a sled with Kiril,” said Resuza. “To tell you the truth, you looked almost dead. How did you get out of all that?” She stared into his eyes as if trying to read his mind. Then she noticed something else had changed too.

  “And your eyes are different. Can you see?”

  Bilblox nodded. “I’ve had quite a few changes,” he started. He looked at the floor. “I’m sorry – it’s too long of a story and we don’t have time for it now. We gotta get out of here – and quickly.”

  For several seconds, nobody moved. Hill sensed something was wrong, but he didn’t know what to do. Bilblox was one of his most trusted friends and he had saved Alfonso’s life many times over. On their original voyage to Somnos, when Hill had questioned Bilblox’s loyalty, Alfonso correctly defended him. Still, despite all this history, something felt wrong. Hill glanced at Naomi. The young girl appeared outwardly calm, but she wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

  “Are you ready?” Bilblox said. “We gotta go.” He stared at Hill intently and raised his eyebrows to the door. Hill began to say something, but Bilblox shook his head, as if to say: Not here – not now. Hill was confused and more than a little nervous. Was it possible that someone was eavesdropping on this conversation? Was there a subtext here? Was there something that Bilblox was not saying – some unsaid message that Hill was missing? Or was it a trap? Was it possible that Bilblox had betrayed them – perhaps for some ash – after all, how was it that Bilblox could see again? And what about Naomi? She would never betray her own sister, would she?

  “Let’s go – now” Bilblox repeated.

  Hill nodded. He had many questions, but clearly he would find no answers in this small room.

  “We have nothing of value,” he said in a clear, direct voice – just in case others were listening. “We just want to leave.”

  “I know,” said Bilblox. He walked to Hill and gave him a strong hug. Just as he was about to let go, he drew close to Hill’s ear.

  “Be strong, my old friend,” he whispered. “Have faith.”

  Bilblox turned and walked out the door, followed by Resuza. Naomi followed behind, and Hill was the last one out of the room. Before he left, he glanced back at the tiny room that had been so comfortable. He had a sinking suspicion that it would be a long time before he would find similar surroundings. At last, he turned and followed the others. It was pitch dark, and as they walked up the stairs, the creak of the wood sounded like gunshots in the cold air. Hill’s heart pounded as if at any moment he expected the shouts of Dragoonya soldiers. It’s coming, the ambush is coming, Hill kept telling himself. But it never came.

  They made it onto the deck of the ship. It was so dark that they could barely see each other even though they were only feet apart. The wind howled and tore at their exposed faces. Although it made sense for them to escape under the cover of darkness, Hill was nonetheless amazed that he and Resuza had slept as long as they did. It felt like only a few hours, but clearly, they had slept the entire day after arriving at the ship the night before.

  They continued along a wooden deck, exposed to the night sky, until they came to a rope bridge that swung in the breeze. It was impossible to see where the bridge led because it disappeared into a bank of fog. Naomi paused for only a second before climbing onto the rope bridge, which was swinging in the wind.

  “Where does this lead?” Hill whispered. He remembered seeing other ships connected to each other, but he had no idea in what direction they were headed. He turned to Bilblox with a concerned look.

  “Don’t worry,” replied Bilblox, who was still behind him. “Everything will be fine. Naomi knows these ships inside and out.”

  “Can we trust her?” Hill asked.

  Bilblox paused. “You can trust me,” he replied.

  Chapter 31: The Fort

  Osoba was not a young man, almost sixty years old, but he had never felt better. Like the other Dragoonya soldiers at the Fog Wolves’ Fort, for the last week he had been on a steady diet of nothing but black ash – no meat, no bread, no ale, not even any water – just the ash from the newly grown tree. Each night, the captain gave them their rations and the soldiers took turns rubbing the fine, black ash into their eyes. The effect was immediate and miraculous. Within a day, Osoba felt incredible; the arthritis was gone from his joints, the cough vanished from his lungs, and the cold brittle feeling that resided deep in his bones had vanished.

  Osoba had to admit there were some drawbacks. His eyes had turned a rather sickly white, much of his hair had fallen out, and his fingernails were gone, making it slightly unco
mfortable to grip his sword. And his mind felt curiously dull, as if in hibernation. It was probably just a short-term side affect. The soldiers also seemed quick to anger. Already, there had been three or four fights at the fort, and in one of these brawls, a soldier had died. But this was always what happened whenever a very coveted commodity was in short demand – whether it was gold, food, or black ash. It couldn’t be helped.

  Tonight he and another guard, Uzależniona, were charged with manning the gate to the fort. Lately, the night shift was much better than the day shift. Ever since the new tree had been planted, and its roots had ravaged the land, people had begun to show up at the fort – refugees, entire villages of people on the brink of starvation – but they only came during the daylight hours. At night, they retreated back to the other side of the river, back into the dead pine forest. They were too frightened to stick around at night, because that’s when the clouds rolled in and the fog wolves came out to prowl for food. So the nights tended to be quiet. And this is why Osoba was startled when he saw a lone figure emerge in the distance, walking slowly through the snow toward the fort.

  “Do you see that?” asked Osoba.

  “Yes,” said Uzależniona, who already had a crossbow out and was aiming it directly at the approaching figure. “It looks like an old woman.”

  Osoba squinted into the distance. The snow was swirling and it was difficult to see, but Uzależniona appeared to be right, it was an old woman. And she was carrying something. Something small.

  “She has a baby,” said Osoba.

  “What in holy hell is she doing out at this time of night?” asked Uzależniona. “She must be out of her mind.”

  “Turn around!” yelled Osoba. “We’re not taking slaves tonight.”

  The old woman either didn’t hear Osoba, didn’t understand him, or simply didn’t care. She continued marching forward and she was moving more quickly now. It almost appeared as if she were running. It was bizarre to see an elderly woman moving so quickly with a baby in tow.