Beyond the Forest

by Kay L. Ling

  Another gnome said, “Yes. How did Gliaphon find you?”

  She had given Raenihel a brief synopsis. Now, if they were in the mood for a story, she’d tell them everything.

  “I took a long hike. After a couple hours, I found a quiet spot to rest, and I totally lost track of time. When I stopped daydreaming I ran all the way to the parking lot. By then, everyone was gone. The park ranger came through, but he didn’t hang around. He figured I was leaving.” She gave a short laugh and shook her head. “So did I, but my car wouldn’t start. I never bring my cell phone here, so I couldn’t call for help.” She shrugged. “I was stuck here.”

  “Then you went back into the forest,” Raenihel prompted. “You didn’t want to stay in your car?”

  “It sounds silly, but I thought I’d be safer in the woods.” She laughed at the irony. “The parking lot made me nervous, so I camped in a forest full of breghlin.”

  “You didn’t know the dangers,” Raenihel said calmly. He refilled her fialazza.

  She took a sip, then set it aside and rubbed her hands idly on her knees. “I had a camping place in mind, so I headed there with a blanket. I took the streamside trail through the lowlands, and I got the strangest feeling that someone was watching me. It bothered me so much I changed trails.”

  Several of the gnomes exchanged meaningful glances.

  “When I climbed the hill to the pine forest, the atmosphere was completely different. I felt safe there. It seemed so peaceful.”

  “You have keen perception for a human,” said a female near Lana. “It’s quite unusual, isn’t it, Raenihel?”

  “Yes,” Raenihel agreed. “Very unusual. And it may have saved her life.”

  Lana reached for her fialazza and drank. Good thing it calmed her or she might not make it through this story. “I felt safe enough to camp for the night, so I spread my blanket and tried to sleep. Well, that didn’t last long. I woke after a little while. I heard voices in the distance, and whistling, like signals. No one is supposed to be here at night. I was in danger and I had proof—the stone in my bracelet had split in two.” Setting down her cup, she pushed up her sleeve and held out her arm. Malachite had warned her of danger, as crazy as that sounded. But why should they believe the folklore? Maybe they’d laugh at her.

  The gnomes leaned forward, staring wide-eyed at the large, striped, green stone. Conversation exploded around her. Raenihel grabbed her wrist and cried over the din, “Malachite! It’s malachite!”

  Lana gave him a startled look. “Yes, what do you know about it?”

  “Forgive me. Where are my manners?” He let go of her wrist and the gnomes fell silent but he continued to stare at the stone. “Malachite is prized in Shadow. It’s a rare, powerful stone.” He looked up and said reverently, “Malachite is the guardian stone of travelers, a powerful, protective stone.”

  Her mouth fell open. Almost verbatim what she had read.

  Raenihel said, “Our world has a few of the same gemstones as yours, such as malachite. But most are unique to our world and many are amazingly powerful.”

  Lana was stunned. “Really? More powerful than ours?”

  He nodded. “Oh, yes. Partly due to their inherent properties, and partly because our world is simply more conducive to gem powers.”

  “More conducive? What do you mean?”

  “Stones from your world become more powerful in ours,” He paused, frowning slightly, and then laid his hand on her arm. “For instance, your bracelet would be far more effective if you wore it in Shadow. Even so, it warned you of danger and protected you. Perhaps it broke Sheamathan’s control.”

  Lana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her ability to use gem powers had improved her life in many ways. If gems from her world became far more powerful in Shadow, that would be amazing. If gems native to Shadow were magnitudes more powerful than any of the gems in her world, that would be mind blowing!

  “Please, go on with your story,” the gnomes urged.

  Where had she left off? She took a deep breath and continued. “Anyway, then I heard hunting horns and a dog barked. I ran but I couldn’t find a good place to hide. I heard a soft whistle behind me, and there stood Gliaphon, motioning for me to come with him.”

  A stocky gray-bearded gnome smiled and asked, “And what did you think when you saw him?”

  She laughed. “I was stunned! I didn’t know what to think! I’d never seen anyone like him.”

  The gnomes chuckled good-naturedly.

  “I really don’t know how Gliaphon found me. You’ll have to ask him.” She immediately winced at her words. Poor Gliaphon. Where was he now? She continued hastily, “He must have heard the horns and wondered what the breghlin were tracking. And he probably heard the dog bark. Now I understand your worries about a dog being here at night. You know the wolfhound’s history. Actually, I have some history with that dog, too.”

  “Really, how is that?” Raenihel asked, clearly surprised.

  She laced her fingers together to keep her hands still. “When I saw the wolfhound tonight, it unlocked suppressed memories. Since my early teens I’ve had nightmares of a huge, shaggy black dog with frightening, intelligent eyes. And I’ve seen the dog when I was awake, too. On my street. Outside my bedroom window. A few times I woke and found it leaning over my bed.” She stopped and took a shuddering breath. “This must all sound crazy. The dog speaks in my mind—or tries to, anyway. I block the words and refuse to listen.” She looked up at the gnomes. “I swear it was the same dog I saw tonight.”

  She expected the gnomes to burst into excited conversation but they didn’t. They probably thought she was making this up. It did sound crazy, even to her. Feeling embarrassed, she blinked back tears.

  Raenihel took her hand and stroked it soothingly. “It’s a mysterious tale, indeed, and very troubling.”

  The gnomes murmured their assent but were otherwise silent.

  “Beings from Shadow can’t enter the Fair Lands,” Raenihel said tentatively, as if thinking the matter through while trying to explain it. “They can’t go any farther than the Amulet—the protective realm around the portal that keeps outsiders from entering your world. If the wolfhound is an enchanted human, then I suppose the Amulet wouldn’t prevent it from entering your world.” He paused and frowned thoughtfully. “If the legend is true, and the wolfhound’s human mind returns during the full moon, perhaps during that time it can communicate with you.”

  “But why would the wolfhound single out Lana?” one of the gnomes asked with a troubled look.

  Raenihel shook his head. “I have no idea. This is all quite puzzling.”

  At least they believed her.

  “Do you still have the nightmares? And visitations?” an elderly gnome asked.

  “Yes. I’ve just gotten better at blocking them from my memory.” She was nearly certain her gemstones had created a protective mechanism that blocked the incidents from her conscious mind. She finally understood the uneasiness that had been keeping her awake. How many times had she felt haunted by a troubling dream that she couldn’t quite remember? She frowned thoughtfully. The other morning she’d woken to a dog barking. The wolfhound? The enchanted dog’s attempts to contact her in person or through dreams were becoming more frequent, but why?

  Just then the search party returned without the missing gnomes, and their grim expressions said more than words. The seated gnomes leapt to their feet. Lana followed, sharing their despair even though she barely knew the lost gnomes.

  Artham said bitterly, “There’s no sign of them. They’re gone.”

  Terrilem added, “The breghlin are gone, too. They must have followed Sheamathan back to Shadowglade.”

  “They’re her scouts. They’ll be back,” Raenihel said unhappily. He rubbed his lined forehead. “Sheamathan’s next step in accessing the Fair Lands will be the destruction of this forest.”

  “What should we do?” Artham asked.

  “Right now, our first priority is our captu
red friends,” Raenihel told him.

  “How can we rescue them?” Terrilem demanded. “No rescue attempt has ever succeeded. Anyone who tries is captured or killed.”

  Raenihel said in a determined tone, “Nevertheless we must try.”

  Another elderly male spoke. “This is a dangerous new era. The Challenger’s power over the woodspirit has been broken. We must find a new Challenger.”

  Artham said, “Fate has intervened.” He turned, pointing at Lana. “Is it mere happenstance that this woman arrived on the very night Sheamathan returned to the forest?”

  Lana bristled at Artham’s presumption. The gnomes looked at her hopefully.

  “But I—” was all she got out before Artham interrupted her half-formed protest.

  “She saved us once.”

  She glared at him. “I barely—”

  He spoke over her. “She has the ability to withstand Sheamathan’s power.”

  It was infuriating to be the subject of the conversation but not allowed to speak.

  The female who had sat near Lana during dinner cried, “Yes! And she bears one of the rare power stones! Look at her bracelet!”

  Artham’s brows shot up and he and Terrilem walked toward her. She didn’t want to show them the bracelet, but really, what good would it do to refuse? The other gnomes had already seen it. She reluctantly pushed up her sleeve and held out her arm. Terrilem reached out to touch her but pulled back. Maybe he could feel her eyes boring into him. Artham merely bent over the stone. He let out a low whistle and said, “What a magnificent malachite! Where did you find it?”

  She knew better than to say that malachite was common here. She was in enough trouble now. The gnomes already believed she had special powers and could rescue their missing friends. She snatched her arm away and said, “If you think I’m going to risk my life on a doomed rescue mission in another world, you’re mistaken.”

  Artham took a step toward her and they locked angry gazes. “Why do you call it a doomed mission?” he demanded. “Don’t you believe in your own abilities?”

  “What do you know about my abilities?” she snapped. “Sheamathan almost captured me. Yes, I broke free. I was lucky. I might not be so lucky next time.”

  Artham gave an exasperated sigh. “Merely being human gives you some protection, and you have the malachite as well.”

  “So, because I’m human I have nothing to fear from Sheamathan?”

  “Far less than we do.”

  “Tell that to Sheamathan’s wolfhound!”

  The other gnomes watched the verbal sparring with helpless fascination.

  Artham sputtered, “But it’s only a legend. We can’t be certain the dog was ever human.”

  She smiled in victory. Artham’s annoyance was proof she’d made a valid point. “I have reason to believe he was,” she said coldly. Would she ever convince the gnomes that she wasn’t their savior? “Here’s what I know about your Challenger—you’re looking in the wrong place for a new one!”

  Finally Raenihel intervened. “My ancestors spoke with the Challenger. They claimed he was human, but I see now they were mistaken. We were wrong to assume that you could help us.”

  What a tactful insult. She tried not to show her resentment. Maybe she had that coming.

  Artham stalked off and Terrilem followed. The rest of the gnomes stared at her with long faces.

  “There’s nothing more we can do tonight,” Raenihel said. “But soon, someone must go to Shadowglade to find our missing brethren. At daybreak we’ll return to Shadow and send messengers to warn the other clans that Sheamathan grows stronger and has passed through the portal again.”

  Maybe it was nervy to ask questions, especially after refusing to help them, but she was curious about the gnomes. “How many gnomes live in Shadow?”

  “Hundreds of thousands, I suppose. We live in hiding, whether in Tree Homes or caves. Some parts of Shadow have suffered less from Sheamathan’s blight. We call those places Safe Havens, since the land supports life, but it’s somewhat of a misnomer since we aren’t safe there, or anywhere. You see, Sheamathan uses the breghlin to capture gnomes to mine minerals and gems. Fortunately, only a few from my clan have been captured over the years.” Raenihel smiled a bit self-consciously and added, “Some gnomes consider humans as dangerous as Sheamathan, but my clan does not share that view.”

  One by one the gnomes drifted away. Unrolling colorful, padded bedrolls, probably stuffed with leaves or moss, they lay down, preparing to sleep until dawn.

  Lana said to Raenihel, “I’m sorry to let you down. Gliaphon probably saved my life and I’ll always be grateful. Maybe it seems like I don’t care about your friends but I—”

  Mercifully he cut her off or she would have kept babbling. “Say no more, dear one. You’ve already done us a great service.”

  Raenihel spread two bedrolls along the wall. Lana lay down on the fleecy green mat he offered her, which was surprisingly soft and comfortable. It smelled like grass and wild flowers. The dim glow of the tree walls shed a soft, reassuring light, like a child’s nightlight. Whispers, mixed with light snoring, soft gasps, and snuffling sounds, surrounded her in a strange but comforting symphony. Before long, despite the strangeness of her surroundings, she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

  Chapter 7

  Morning sunlight shone on Lana’s face. She opened her eyes and looked up at a canopy of autumn leaves and a cloudless blue sky. Blue sky! She sat bolt upright. I’m outside the Tree Home! It would be easy to believe the events of the evening had been a dream, but no dream had ever been that detailed, and besides, she was sitting on the green bedroll Raenihel had lent her. This was the same tree she had fallen asleep inside; she was certain of that. The gnomes had probably returned to Shadow at dawn. Apparently they had deposited her outside, but she didn’t remember a thing. Were they back in their Safe Havens now?

  She wrapped her arms around her knees. Birds chirped, insects whirred, the leaves rustled gently. So peaceful. So soothing. The forest seemed its normal self this morning. If only she could forget last night, but forgetting wouldn’t make it any less real. No, even if she could push everything else from her mind—the gnomes, the breghlin, the woodspirit—there was still the wolfhound. Her nightmare beast was real and capable of tracking her. It was better to know that, she supposed.

  She knelt and rolled up her bedding. Stuffing the bedroll under her arm, she started for her car via the long route that went through the lowlands. She needed to replay the events of the evening, think it through, and come to grips with it.

  At the place where she and the gnomes had forded the stream, she stopped and looked for the fallen tree. There! She and the gnomes had hidden behind that tree. The woodspirit had nearly captured her. Her heart beat faster at the thought. Sheamathan had stood with outstretched arms and everything growing around the woodspirit had shriveled and died. Who could do things like that? And what worse things could she do? Lana stood absently rubbing her malachite bracelet. Humans might escape Sheamathan’s paralyzing control, but they wouldn’t escape the destruction she’d bring here.

  Lana turned and walked away. She had broken the gnomes’ trance last night. Some of them had reached the nearest trees and escaped. But Gliaphon and a few others hadn’t gotten away in time. Sheamathan had taken them captive. How could the gnomes fight a being who could paralyze them and put them in a mindless trace? In the past, they’d had an ally, the Challenger. She rubbed her forehead and frowned. Had he really been human? It probably didn’t matter. He was gone and his power over the woodspirit had been broken. The gnomes must stay clear of the woodspirit and her breghlin servants; otherwise, they’d wind up in work camps. Maybe I should worry less about the gnomes and more about what could happen here. She shook her head sadly. The gnomes were deluded if they thought she could save them. She didn’t know how to save her own world.

  Breaking into a run, she ran all the way to the end of the trail, crossed the picnic area, and slowed to
a walk as she reached the deserted parking lot. She glanced at her watch before she remembered that it didn’t work, but oddly enough it was working again.

  Time for a snack while she waited for the rangers. Unlocking the car, she tossed the bedroll into the back seat and then went to open the trunk. The first thing she saw as she lifted the lid was the strange stone. With all the excitement last night, she had forgotten all about it. She picked it up and tilted it at various angles. Fascinating. The shimmering silver flecks were so unusual. She’d never seen a stone like this. Why was it so unnaturally dense? And why, after holding it, even for a few seconds, did her hands feel numb? How did it do that?

  She grabbed her purse and a few snacks and got back into the car, setting the stone on the dash.

  She felt better after eating, but it was uncomfortably cold in the car. How much longer till the rangers come? She looked at the car clock, but of course it wasn’t working—dead battery—so she checked her watch. The stupid thing had stopped again. When she got home the watch was going straight in the trash. Maybe she’d take a hammer to it first just to make herself feel better.

  It was so aggravating to be stuck here. She hadn’t tried to start the car this morning because it seemed pointless, but maybe she should try. There was no reason for her battery to be dead, and she couldn’t imagine what else could be wrong. She dragged her keys from her purse and held her breath as she twisted the key in the ignition. “Come on! Start!” she ordered as if she could intimidate it into cooperating. Nothing happened. “Rats! Why won’t you start?”

  Frustrated, she reached for the stone to kill some time. Within seconds her hands felt cold and numb. Heat. Heat is energy. What did they teach us in school? Heat energy, measured in calories, flows across the boundary between two objects. But heat and energy didn’t seem to be flowing between the stone and her hand. Why? Face it; the stone was unnatural. It was way too heavy, and the numb sensation was totally bizarre. Checking her books would be a waste of time. Raenihel had said there were different stones in his world. This had to be one of them. What other explanation could there be?