by Aderyn Wood
Slowly, a mist billowed under the willow. “Aperiesque ostium.” Ness finished her spell and the mist thickened.
“The portal is open. You first, Dale.” Ness smiled, her eyes sparkling in the starlight.
Dale breathed deep, took one last look around, and gasped. There behind them stood Ricardo, he strode toward them now, his arms moving and a spell of his own on his lips.
“Ness!” Dale screamed as she pointed.
Ness turned to look back and then spun to Dale. “Run!”
Dale’s legs went to jelly, like a dream in which she tried to run but couldn’t. She focused her mind and made her legs move, one in front of the other, until the mist engulfed her. She looked back and could just see Ness, a look of horror on her face, frozen, unable to move. Ricardo had her, it’d happened again.
“Ness!” Dale screamed. But the mists moved, enveloping her and Dale was alone.
Part III
The Borderlands
21
Dale screamed Ness’s name but only silence answered. The mists cleared and still she screamed. “Ness! Ness!” But Ness wasn’t with her. She’d been captured once more. And this time they’ll kill her.
Dale fell to her knees, exhausted. Transitioning always took its toll, but this time grief tore at her heart, and frustration weighed her down, both refusing to relinquish their cruel hold. “We were so close,” she whispered, and the first of her tears hit the ground.
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and screamed once more. “NESSSSSSSS!”
A wave of thrushes flew out somewhere nearby. Dale sobbed, her chest heaving as she fell to the ground, letting hot tears soak the soil. All of her plans, her stupid contribution, was all in vain. Now Ness was gone for sure. Shame burned through Dale.
With effort, she steadied her breathing. Think. She sat back on her heels, wiped her eyes and scanned her surroundings. The family of thrushes had returned and now chirruped energetically in the shrubs and trees that surrounded her.
Fallen leaves littered the forest floor. The air was cool and crisp. I’m somewhere in the mountains.
Ness was supposed to create a portal back to Arcadia, but this wasn’t Arcadia. She threw a pile of leaves in frustration. She had no way of knowing where she was.
Finding Arcadia was the least of her worries. What would Ricardo do to Ness now? Once again, she’d made someone she loved risk their life for her. And once again, she’d failed. What would she tell her mother now? It would’ve been all right if she’d brought Ness back with her. But now, without Ness, she would only cause her mother to worry. And they were probably wasting precious resources trying to find her.
Should she try to scry her mother? To let her know she was safe. Soon.
A flash of purple in front of her and Dale’s eyes widened. “Esme!”
Her little sprite appeared suddenly as she always did, and jumped on the spot clapping her hands before throwing her little arms around Dale’s neck and squeezing her tight.
“I’m happy to see you too, Esme.” Dale couldn’t help but smile. “Do you know where I am?”
Esme poked a fang with a finger, as though thinking, before nodding, her spikey hair moving back and forth.
“Am I far from Arcadia?”
Esme smiled and nodded again.
Dale frowned. “You don’t have to look so happy about it.”
Esme shrugged.
“Well, which direction is it?”
Esme pointed to her left.
South, I think. Dale was still struggling from the transition. “Is Mother worried about me?” she asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
Esme nodded and wore a grim little expression on her face.
“Tell her I’m safe would you?”
Esme smiled in her enthusiastic fashion and then disappeared.
Dale took a deep breath and pushed to her feet on shaky legs. She had to make a start. The sooner she got back to Arcadia the better. Her stomach growled; transitioning from one world to another always made her hungry. But Dale didn’t have any food. Don’t think I could eat anyway. Later, she could forage food. Autumn was the time for berries and nuts, roots and seeds. But the journey would be a long one.
She stepped steadily over the moist leaf litter. The birds now sang a joyful morning song, but Dale’s heart remained heavy. Ness would surely die this time. She could kick herself for the fool she was. She stopped walking, and tipped her face to the sky. “Would you please tell me what I’m supposed to do now? If I am the saviour when do I start doing some actual saving? Or grow a brain at least.”
Through the canopy, soft white clouds dotted a morning sky. She wasn’t sure who she was talking to, but it felt better to get some frustration out.
She had to put Ness out of her mind, and her mother. There was nothing she could do about anything right now; she had to focus on getting back to Arcadia. At least she could tell her mother Ness was still alive. Surely, Ricardo wouldn’t have killed her straight away. No, he would have taken her back to Christian Central for more questions.
Dale moved on and focused on her new quest – the journey back.
As the morning wore on, the day warmed and it was almost pleasant. Dale felt guilty for enjoying the smell of the pine and the sound of the squirrels playing. She was having a nice time in the forest while Ness was probably suffering. But once again, she was reminded of the harsh contrast between Earth and the Borderlands.
Certainly there were beautiful forests like this on Earth. But they were so rare now. The Borderlands were full of forests and even the cities and villages seemed to fit within the natural environment. They blended rather than dominated.
As she walked the forest provided for her. She braved thorns of a blackberry bush overrun with fat berries; a hazelnut gave her a good feed, too, once she found a rock to break open their shells. Two squirrels watched her, chirruping now and then, clearly unhappy she’d found one of their winter stores.
Mid-morning she came to a track that curved dangerously close to the edge of a chasm. She’d been here before, with Balak. This was where she’d seen the war for herself. The very spot she’d hoped to bring Ness.
She took a deep breath and tried not to look down. But once she rounded the curve she peeked almost involuntarily and the bare valley loomed below making her feet tingle. There was no battle now. Sharp squawks drew her gaze to the large vultures circling the chasm. Dale shivered and wondered what had happened in the battle. Had they managed to fight the Unseelie back? Or, had their enemy gained ground? She took a breath and moved on. Once she was back in Arcadia, she’d know the truth of it.
On and on the track wove through the forest. It had taken her seven days to come this far with Balak on horseback. How long would the journey take on foot? Months? Seasons?
She kept moving her tired feet as midday turned to afternoon. The shadows grew longer and deeper. She’d covered miles, leagues even. In the late afternoon, strange noises caused her to pause, but when she cocked her head to listen, only the birdsong greeted her. As she moved on more sounds came. Voices, shouts, screams, explosions, and steel on steel. She stopped to peer down the track, her heart thumping – it was a battle.
Dale’s stomach dropped. She left the forest path and crept through the underbrush, listening carefully and following the sounds of steel and war. Soon she came to the side of the mountain and looked down to the valley. This time she had a better view of the Seelie army. Thousands of them formed a double line of defence – a wall of shields stalled the horde. Brave soldiers fought them off in organised ranks. Dale used her second sight, the wall of shields glowed with fiery blue – magic helped to keep the monsters at bay. She blinked back to her normal vision. The Seelie held their position, but for how long? A sorcerer, lean and tall stood in her blue robes on a large boulder on Dale’s side of the mountain. Her arms were up and she was chanting. Below, a fearsome pack of wolves took down hundreds of Unseelie monsters.
“Agathina,” D
ale whispered.
There she was, risking her life to save them. Dale wanted to run down and help her, but she didn’t even have her sword. Instead, she lay flat on her stomach, watching the horror for just a little longer. One of the Unseelie crushed a solider with his warhammer. He fell to the ground, and tears welled in Dale’s eyes but she blinked them angrily away.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
A loud squawk pierced the air and cut through the din of the battle. Dale shuddered. She had to leave; it was too dangerous to remain so close. She crept through the undergrowth until she found the path. But rather than walking it she kept to the trees lest she was seen by something overhead.
She crept swiftly, adrenalin still flowing through her veins. The realisation of what this battle meant dawned on her. The enemy had advanced, by quite a long stretch too.
Could they make it to Arcadia? And if they did, what would they do with her mother?
Dale stumbled through the thickening forest. Tempted though she was to race to Agathina and the others, she had to get back. Her place was in Arcadia with her mother. And something else was calling her back, a light chorus – the prophecy stone. It seemed to call her very blood. Its familiar warmth bloomed deep within.
As the afternoon darkened, fatigue slowed Dale’s progress. Her legs burned and her head ached. Mountain streams popped up here and there and she stopped more regularly to drink the icy water. But her stomach growled angrily; water only filled it for a short time.
She needed to find a place to rest for the night. A big tree with dry fallen leaves was what she needed. Dale trudged on, but stopped suddenly when she almost trod on Esme, who stood by a fallen trunk with her arms folded.
“Esme?”
Esme shifted her head and raised an eyebrow. She looked like a teacher with an expression of admonishment on her small face.
“Did you tell Mother I’m all right?” I can’t scry her now, I don’t have the energy.
Esme gave her a single nod and tapped her foot.
Dale squinted. “Esme, what’s going on? Is Mother not happy with me?”
Esme shrugged her shoulders.
“You’re not happy with me?”
Esme gave her a single nod and looked at her nails.
“Esme, I’m sorry I took off. I know you didn’t want me to go. But I was trying to bring back Ness.”
Esme pricked one of her little fangs, then clapped her hands and skipped over to throw her arms around Dale’s leg.
Dale released a short laugh. Esme never stayed mad for long. She bent down to give Esme a good squeeze.
“C’mon, will you walk with me? It won’t be dusk for a little while yet, I can cover more ground before I find a place to sleep for the night.”
But Esme shook her head and skipped over to the fallen tree, gesturing beyond it with her arm.
Dale frowned. “That’s not the direction back to Arcadia, Esme.” Dale turned south and pointed. “I have to go this way.”
Esme shook her head again, stomped a little foot for extra effect, and pointed with a harsh jab.
“West? That would only take us to the Forbidden Forest. A dead end.”
Again, Esme shook her head, more violently this time, and again she pointed her finger.
Dale took a few steps toward her and peered over the fallen trunk. The trees seemed older, darker, colder. Perhaps the Forbidden Forest was closer than she thought.
Dale turned to Esme who had skipped up behind her. The little sprite grabbed her hand and tried to pull her over the trunk.
“You really want me to go this way?”
Esme nodded and smiled.
“Did Mother tell you to take me to the Forbidden Forest?” Perhaps it was a plan to keep her safe from the battle. But how would she get through the shields?
Esme shook her head.
“Has someone told you to take me to the Forbidden Forest, Esme?” Perhaps Jaral, or Rhys.
Esme nodded her head in her funny way.
Dale bit her lip. It would have to be someone Esme trusted. Surely, Ricardo wouldn’t have tricked her into it.
“Esme, can you tell me who told you to do this?”
Esme shook her head with a cheeky grin from ear to ear.
Dale raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s a secret is it?”
Esme skipped ahead.
Dale paused. She’d followed Esme before and she’d always led her to safety. Dale jumped over the fallen trunk and headed west.
22
Dale woke and stretched out the kink in her neck, her eyes taking in her surroundings. Esme had led her to a little stone hut as night had fallen heavy and cold – a place to sleep. A pile of oak leaves in one corner of the hut had done for a mattress, and an old tapestry, not too dusty, proved an adequate blanket. Though her sleep had been awkward, she hadn’t dreamt of Ness, and she worried if it was a good thing or not.
Dale’s stomach rumbled with a ferocious hunger. The leaves rustled beneath as she pushed to her feet and at the centre of the hut stood a small wooden table with one chair tucked beside it. On the table lay a crumbly block of cheese, a pear and a small loaf of bread. Dale almost lunged for it, not pausing to think how the food had arrived, nor caring. There was no knife, so she tore the bread and stuffed a good wad in her mouth. It was fresh and tantalising like all food in the Borderlands.
As Dale’s hunger eased, she allowed herself to enjoy the meal, tearing a piece of the goat’s cheese and plopping it on a piece of the bread. Her stomach settled, and her mind awakened, the question of who had provided her with the breakfast suddenly seemed urgent.
What if it’s another trap?
“Esme,” she called.
The little sprite flashed into existence, the big grin still on her face.
“Esme, did you bring me this food?”
Esme nodded.
“But where did you get it?”
Esme gave her a shrug and pointed to the other corner of the hut. Dale turned. A pile of neatly folded clothes rested on the floor. She recognized the simple homespun cloth – shirt and trousers made here in the Borderlands.
“Who has provided me with them? And this food? Where did you get it?”
Esme gave her one of her smug grins before disappearing again.
Dale sighed. She dusted her hands and stepped over to the clothes. Her hands glided over the warmth of the woollen trousers and the rough linen shirt, brown and white, plain and simple. Esme was clearly enjoying this little game. All Dale could do was go along with it.
Walking proved easier today. She’d fully transitioned, had a good sleep and with her belly full her limbs moved with renewed energy. A path close to the hut led further west, and when Dale asked Esme, the little sprite nodded with violent enthusiasm – Dale was to follow the narrow path. Warm sunlight filtered through the forest canopy, and in spite of all her troubles, Dale found herself appreciating the early autumn air, the beauty of the trees and the antics of the squirrels. But thoughts of Ness and her mother would worry at her often, and guilt cast a dark shadow on her mood when she remembered her people were dying in battle.
She focused on the path; there was little to do but keep walking and see where Esme led her. Dale shielded her eyes and squinted into the hazy forest where the trail curved. Esme was no longer visible. The little sprite had bounded off down the path the moment they’d left the stone hut, gesturing for Dale to follow. But now Esme was nowhere in sight. It was getting close to noon, the sun almost at its peak.
The forest had changed over the last few miles. The trees here were older and taller. They reached such great heights that the path had grown darker. Spots of sunlight penetrated the canopy in irregular patterns.
Where are the shields? She’d been walking for so long, she must be close to the Forbidden Forest, and its famed seals. She knew little of the Forbidden Forest; it was extremely old, dark, with its own special magic. Only the ghosts of the First lingered there.
Dale shivered. Was it p
ossible she had crossed through the shields without knowing? No, of course not. No Second or Third could get through the magical barrier.
Dale searched for Esme again, but only shadows darkened the forest path.
“Esme?” Dale called softly.
No answer.
As Dale kept on, the forest seemed to fall to silence. Where were the animals? The birds?
“Esme?” Dale called again, a tremor in her voice.
A curve in the path obscured the view ahead, and her voice echoed off the rockface that lined it. She shivered more violently, teeth chattering. Something’s wrong.
She stepped cautiously forward. Up ahead, a stag stood illuminated within a beam of sunlight. His reddish pelt held a beautiful sheen. His eyes, large and dark, gazed at Dale without pause.
“Hello,” she said, and the deer turned his majestic antlers and walked off the path, through the trees. Dale watched him go. The stag stopped once, turning to glance back, before continuing on his way.
Dale stared, goosebumps rising over her skin.
“It’s a sign,” she whispered.
Dale headed to the cast of sunlight and looked up. Blue sky appeared through the dark canopy. When she looked back the way she’d come, her mouth fell open.
Like slow moving glass, the path and the trees beyond were obscured. “The shields,” she whispered. Somehow, she’d achieved the impossible. She’d entered the Forbidden Forest.
Dale wiped her sweaty palms on her woollen trousers. She walked to the edge of the path and followed the narrow trail the stag had made, urged now to follow him. Dale walked on, keeping to the trail and ignoring the dense undergrowth that slapped her face and slowed her progress.
She soon came to a lake and gasped with delight as rainbow trout jumped to catch lazy insects that shone in the sunshine. The forest was no longer silent. Birds chirruped and a slight breeze rustled the leaves and sent them spinning to the ground. The trees towered over all beneath. Yes, she was in the Forbidden Forest. But how?