Dreamscape: Saving Alex

by Kirstin Pulioff

  “Stop,” he commanded, lifting his arm.

  I dutifully followed his request. I could do that much, at least. But when I looked past him, to where the forest opened to a small clearing, I faltered. Tall grass rippled in the wind, with no signs of danger. After hours of trampling through close vines and brambles, I wanted to run through it and enjoy the open space. Why couldn’t I? There was no one here to stop me.

  “Arrow, this is wonderful!” I cried, moving past him to twirl into the warm meadow. He reached for me as I bounded forward, but his hand slipped off my wrist.

  “Goldy,” he said, then stopped with an amused grin. He leaned against the nearest tree as I spun in circle after circle. “When are you going to start listening to me?”

  “When are you going to start listening to me?” I countered playfully, my arms extended to the sky. “This is amazing. You have to come out here. I can’t tell you how good the sun feels.”

  “I’m good right here,” he said. “You might not want to—”

  “Seriously, can’t you just enjoy a moment of fun?”

  “Do you think we’re here for fun?” he asked, one of his eyebrows shooting up.

  “Everything can be fun if you want it to be,” I said. “You get to make the choice, right? Just like I do. And I’m choosing to have fun.”

  “I’m fine right here,” he said with a smirk. “You go have fun.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said carelessly, advancing further into the sun-filled meadow, “but I’m not missing out.”

  Arrow’s eyes lingered on me as I went, watching me enjoy the silky grass blades on my palm and the sun on my face. Too soon, however, my movements slowed as the ground softened to mud.

  “Just my luck,” I muttered, trying to step back to no avail. The sludge trapped my boots, pulling me deeper into the goop with each step. It slid over the edge of my boot, warming my shin as it slid down my leg.

  “Arrow! What’s happening?” I cried, grabbing my shin and attempting to pull my foot up. The warm slime clung to my leather boots. Every bid at escape forced the sludge higher, until it covered my calves, and my feet were cemented in the ground. Arrow’s deep laughter interrupted my rising panic.

  “Ah, Goldy,” he chuckled. “You’re right. Everything can be fun. I had no idea this trek would prove so entertaining.”

  “Stop laughing,” I snapped, struggling to hold back my own smile.

  “Sorry, my lady. It’s just that I haven’t seen someone try to traverse these pits since my youth.”

  “The pits?” I asked.

  “Let me introduce you to the Pits of Wonder.” He spread his arms in introduction. “It’s one of the highlights of the Western Woods.”

  “Pits of Wonder? That’s a joke, right?”

  “Ah, ‘tis no joke, my lady. You’ll find most of these woods are riddled with mystery and danger.” His voice dropped in an ominous tone. Only a small twitch at the side of his mouth gave away his sport.

  “Stop it, Arrow. I’m seriously stuck. Help me out of here.” I stopped flailing and matched his grin. Somehow I knew he would rescue me.

  “I was just having a bit of fun. Isn’t that what you suggested earlier?” He couldn’t stop the twinkle in his eyes.

  “Arrow,” I pleaded. “I really want to get out of here,” and then I said in a smaller voice, “you were right. I should have listened.”

  “Did I hear you clearly? Did you say I was right? Are you saying you need my help again?” He draped his hands behind his head. I glared at him. He was enjoying my discomfort a bit too much.

  “All right, I won’t make you ask. Stay there, I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the brush we’d just hiked through, snorting to contain another laugh. After what seemed like hours, he emerged with an armful of wooden debris. Vines draped over his shoulders, and a carefully stacked pile of sticks and leaves teetered in his arms.

  “Please hurry,” I said.

  “Good things take time, Goldy,” he said, not bothering to look at me, focusing instead on the pile of wood and vines he dropped to the ground.

  “As long as this good thing doesn’t sink to death,” I muttered.

  He rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to worry about sinking. The pits are…uh…more of a trap than a sinkhole.”

  “A trap?” I asked, glancing around.

  “Yes. You see, there are reckless creatures that tromp through the meadow without noticing the signs and find themselves stuck.”

  “What happens to them?” I asked, feeling fear clench my heart.

  “I couldn’t really say. I’d imagine a variety of things. Some might escape, others may starve to death, but the birds help themselves to the majority of them.”

  He casually looked back at his pile and began sorting the items. I frantically searched the sky.

  “Then get me out of here!”

  “Are you afraid of a few little birds, Goldy?”

  “No,” I said. “But the idea of being pecked to death isn’t exactly comforting.”

  “I’m almost ready,” he said, tying together a few vines. I stared in disbelief as he held up two ovals, cross-woven with vines, their reinforced edges made from bent branches.

  “How did you do that?” I asked, staring as he slipped an oval over each of his feet.

  “Let’s just say I’m good with my hands…and I may have seen someone else do this before,” he admitted with a smile.

  “Who?” I asked.

  He cleared his throat and sat down to secure the woven mats to the bottoms of his boots. “It’s not important, Goldy. What’s important is that we get you out of there.”

  I nodded and pressed my lips together to stifle my laughter. No wonder he knew about the pits in this meadow.

  Once the makeshift shoes were in place, he hobbled over to the edge of the pit and made a move as if he were going to jump. I closed my eyes in anticipation, but no splash followed.

  “Don’t worry, Goldy, I wouldn’t do that to you.” He winked.

  “I’m not quite so sure!” I giggled at his antics.

  “Really?” he asked, tilting his head. “It seems there’s a lot you’re unsure about.”

  I bit my lower lip. What did he mean? Hopefully he wasn’t second-guessing my usefulness again. He didn’t seem to give it a second thought as he stepped into the pits. Soft mud surged around his shoes, and I held my breath as he came closer. Displaced mud rippled out from under his steps. Thick muck sloshed over the top edge of my boots.

  “Ugh, I think I’m going to get sick.” I gagged.

  “Don’t do that, Goldy. I’m almost there.”

  “Hurry!”

  “Hmm, I don’t know anymore. I wouldn’t want to interrupt all this fun,” he teased, lingering slightly out of reach.

  “You want fun?” I asked. Narrowing my eyes at him, I scooped up a handful of goop and tossed it at him. I missed, but it sent him into fits of laughter. He was definitely enjoying this too much.

  Now, in addition to the mud stuck to my boots, dark slime dripped down my forearm. Slow, like syrup, and with an acidic smell that burned. I hadn’t noticed it when I first walked in, but now the stench overpowered me. “Why didn’t you warn me? This stinks.” I plugged my nose with my clean hand while Arrow bent over to catch his breath.

  “I tried Goldy, I tried. This is too good!” He pretended to duck as I reached for more goop. “Okay, okay, here you go,” he said, throwing the pile of branches and the extra pair of woven shoes to the ground in front of me. “Line the shoes up, secure them with one of the branches, and then tie them together. You’ll want to attach them to your legs, like I did.”

  I looked down at the sticks and vines and cursed as my feet stayed in place. “I can’t move my feet.”

  “Relax. We have to go step by step. If I started swirling the mud before you knew how to tie the shoes, it would be pointless.”

  I took a deep breath and tucked my lips together. Relaxing was the last thing I wanted to do, but I
tried. “Okay, I’m ready. What’s next?”

  “Now this may sound strange.” He stopped as I stifled a chuckle. What wasn’t strange here?

  “Sorry, go ahead,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrows, but I remained silent. “To get you unstuck, I need to alter the movement of the ground below. Don’t be afraid,” he said, stopping my protests. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. You’ll feel the ground soften around you first, and then you’ll be able to pull your feet out.”

  “What are you going to do?” I asked nervously.

  “Stir up the ground.”

  “Stir up the—no!” I yelled, then cursed under my breath. There had to be a different way. A way that didn’t involve me tumbling backwards into this goo.

  Arrow winked and ignored my concerns, dropping a large branch onto the ground. He swirled small circles first and then larger ones closer to me. The ground trembled, and I dropped a couple inches. I shifted my boots and recovered.

  “It’s working,” I said.

  He didn’t answer, continuing to stir in front of me, and then to the side, and then around behind me. The mud softened, and when my legs broke free, I almost fell backwards. What now? Arrow’s instructions flew past my ears while I stared at the sinking pile of twigs and vines.

  “And you better do it before everything sinks or the ground solidifies around you. Are you sure you have it?”

  “Uh-hmm,” I said, collecting the sticks. “Thank you, I really mean it.”

  “I’ll see you on the other side, Alex,” he said, sliding by effortlessly.

  I held my breath. My heart raced. My fingers refused to listen to the simplest of instructions. He said my name. Alex. Not Goldy, and not with a sneer. It slid off his tongue like honey, smooth and deep. I liked it. He looked back at me still fumbling with the sticks and smiled. The ice between us had finally thawed.

  I followed his instructions, and before the sludge covered my knees, I had the woven shoes attached to my boots. The first few steps threatened to knock me back into the mud. I wobbled out of control and then managed to trudge a lot less gracefully than Arrow across the quicksand pit.

  Luckily Arrow didn’t press me to keep going on the trail. In the time it took me to maneuver over the wobbly ground, he had started a small fire and prepared lunch.

  The smell of warmed bread and oranges bowled me over. I dropped to my knees, remembering that I hadn’t eaten since arriving. I crawled across the dusty ground, ignoring the dirt that stuck to the residual slime on my arms and legs.

  “You made it,” Arrow said as I crawled past him.

  Whatever had guarded his eyes before had transformed into an amused twinkle. I pulled myself up with his help and hobbled to the log where he sat, carefully pulling off my caked boots. It took more effort to strip my arms of the slime, and when he offered a branch for scraping, I accepted it.

  “You can put your boots by the fire to warm. Once the mud dries, it’ll flake off. No one will ever know. Except me, of course,” he said with a sly wink.

  I stared at him, my words frozen in my throat. Why was talking to him so difficult?

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” he said, offering me a warmed slice of bread and an orange. His grip lingered for a moment before he released the food, and our eyes connected, sending my heart spiraling out of control.

  “I’m not afraid,” I said, glancing away.

  “What is it then?”

  I shrugged. The feelings stirring inside me weren’t fear, but something just as terrifying. Silence gave me the illusion of control over my emotions. I bit into the bread.

  It melted in my mouth. I closed my eyes and let the world disappear. At that moment, nothing mattered except the bread as each piece fed my insatiable appetite. I took the second offered slice and leaned back against the log, closing my eyes. The orange had a tang that I relished, especially when the sweet citrus slid down my throat. Hunger made everything taste better, and despite the two slices of bread and the fruit, my stomach still grumbled.

  The birds sang as Arrow poured a drink. He wasn’t close enough to touch, but even with my eyes closed, I sensed his proximity. The clarity of the details I recalled of his face startled me, from his strong jaw to the hair that fell across his forehead, just barely covering his eyes.

  Those eyes.

  The look of admiration he gave me after I knocked out the giant, and then the confusion when I drew my weapon on him came back to me. Now that I had eaten, everything seemed so clear. Why had I ever doubted him?

  When I opened my eyes he was prodding the fire with a stick. He added another log to the fire and a spray of embers highlighted the clumps of dried mud that fell off the bottom of his boot.

  I kicked chunks of goop off my leggings with my foot, wishing I could kick off the entire costume. Why was being the hero so difficult? When I first put the costume on, I thought I knew what I was supposed to do. Obviously I didn’t. All this pretending twisted my insides.

  “So, Goldy…” he stopped mid-sentence as I shook out my hair. I let it fall loose, embracing the one thing about me that remained unchanged.

  “You really should hide your hair. Someone might notice,” he mumbled, locking his gaze on me.

  “Maybe I want someone to notice,” I said with a direct look. My heart raced. Why had I said that?

  He stopped drinking and appraised me. The cup covered most of his face but not the mischievous gleam in his eyes. Oh crap, what had I done?

  “So how come I’ve never heard of you before?” I asked quickly, bringing the conversation back to safe ground. My hand shook as I reached for another piece of bread. “I’m pretty sure I would remember a name like yours.”

  I’d definitely remember his face.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m pretty well-known around here, especially in these woods. What about you? Where are you from?” He sliced an apple with his knife and let the blade hang by his lips. I took another bite to buy time. How could I possibly tell him I was from a different world? A real one. I couldn’t. I only had one reasonable option—lie.

  “Um, pretty far from here. Further north, I think.”

  He stopped prodding the fire and arched an eyebrow. “From the north, huh? I would have guessed further away.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked, scrunching my face as I took an additional bite of bread.

  “Nothing bad,” he said, appeasing me with a quick gesture of surrender and pointing to the vines crossing my body. “I’m not one to question how or why you’re here. I just noticed that you weren’t aware of the Wounded Woods.”

  “Wounded Woods,” I said. “I guess that’s a fitting name. I needed the vines, that’s for sure. You never did tell me what you were doing there today.”

  “Besides rescuing you from giants?”

  “Funny, I seem to recall handling mine just fine,” I said, relieved to joke about something that had pulled us apart before. “No, seriously though, what were you doing there? Was it just random luck that we found each other?”

  “I don’t believe in random luck.” He shook his head and reached for my hand. “This was more. I was meant to find you.”

  My heart leapt. “I…”

  “The rebellion needs you.”

  Just as quickly, my heart sank. The rebellion. Those two words defined my purpose to these people. How could I forget about that? He was looking for the hero, not for me.

  “Do you have any more bread in there?” I asked, changing the subject again. I scooted forward, within arm’s reach. Why did I do that? He could see my heart beating for sure.

  “Just a few slices, but we should ration those for later. I’m down to the last two apples as well,” he said, sliding off the log to sit by my side and opening his bag for me to see. His proximity clouded my mind, making it hard to remain level-headed or breathe. I grabbed for my bag out of reflex and opened it.

  “Nothing in here either,” I said, leaning forward to share my bag with him. />
  “Wait!” he said, placing his hand over mine. The speed in his movement and alarm in his voice surprised me. “Can I?” he asked, pulling the bag from my grip.

  Startled, I nodded. What could have caught his attention? There wasn’t much in my bag to begin with. Except those, I thought, watching him pull out the carved wooden boxes.

  “Why did you take these?” he asked, shooting an accusatory glance my way.

  “Take them? I just found them in the woods. Someone must have left them there. They’re just money boxes,” I snapped, clutching the bag to my chest.

  “Just money boxes,” he muttered, cracking his neck in exaggerated motions.

  “Yes. If I didn’t, someone else would have.”

  “So you just took the money?”

  “Yeah.” I hesitated, put off by the accusation in his voice.

  “You stole the money?”

  “No,” I said. “It’s not like that.”

  “What do you call it when you take money that’s not yours?”

  “But that’s not…that’s not fair,” I stuttered, flustered by his insinuation. “I needed the money.”

  “So you just took it? What about the people who it was intended for. Don’t you think they needed the money?”

  “I didn’t know,” I said weakly. His words rattled in my head like a trapped beast trying to find a way out. I’d done it again, ruined things before I knew what had happened.

  He looked at me for a long time before speaking. “What’s done is done, but why did you take the boxes? You could have just left them there,” he said in a quieter tone. I looked at the way he traced the designs on the wood. He must’ve recognized something I hadn’t.

  “They’re too beautiful to be left to rot in the forest,” I said, pursing my lips and dropping my gaze to the leather bag in my lap. My hand shook as I felt around along the bottom and clutched the money from the second box. I dropped the coins into his hands. “Here, take it. I don’t need it, and I didn’t mean any harm by taking it.”