by Greg Curtis
As he began his long, slow, and impossibly silent journey through this deadly forest, that was the only thought on Briagh's mind. This wasn't a rescue any more. Now he was just trying to save his own life.
Chapter Forty Four
The party reached their destination quicker than they expected. Or rather it came upon them before they were ready for it. One minute they were simply riding over another gently sloping hill full of grazing animals; the next they had crested the hill to see the start of the Forbidden Forest barely five hundred yards ahead. It was at the bottom of a long, gentle incline, across a small stream and then perhaps another thirty yards to the tree line.
It caught them all by surprise. But then Abel supposed it had always been going to. They'd spent days simply riding over the grazing lands with nothing but long grass ahead and behind. There had been no roads. No landmarks. No signposts. Nothing to tell them how close or far away they were from their destination. Not until they arrived.
From a distance the Forbidden Forest looked much like any other forest, Abel thought as he stopped and stared at it. Lots of trees with tall dark green canopies, extending back all the way to the horizon. Though there was one small difference. The sky above it was orange! Not hugely so, just delicately tinged with it as if the sun was getting ready to set even though it was the middle of the day.
But that was only what his eyes saw. What his magic saw was something else entirely. Something of magic and power and complexity that he couldn't even describe. Not accurately. But it frightened him. Because the power and the complexity of what he was looking at was so far beyond anything he had ever seen before that he couldn't imagine who had crafted the magic.
They had made good time getting here. Especially now that the Princess and Father Argen had joined them and they could ride. And that was important when they were trying to catch the technologist and the wildred. They had to hurry. Even so, each evening Master Zo'or had made time to teach him how to use his magic. And because of that he could see so much more in the world of illusion now than he had been able to before. And he knew in time he could become a capable light bringer. Already he was a hundred times better than he had been. But what he was staring at ahead of them was a thousand times beyond anything he could ever dream of.
“What do you see, Abel?” Master Zo'or was suddenly beside him, taking the opportunity to check on how he was progressing in his studies.
“That absolutely nothing about that forest is what it seems Master Zo'or.” And that was the literal truth. In fact, everything Abel could see in front of him was built on an illusion. Layers of illusion and magic interwoven and mixed up with one another, and then more layers placed on top of them. He could not pierce the veil of illusion – it was far too complex and powerful for that. But he knew that absolutely nothing his eyes saw or his ears heard from it could be relied upon. And it was the entire forest! How could any illusion be so large?
“Very true. Also, such complex magic is not that of any mere wizard.”
“Master Argen.” Master Zo'or turned to the priest. “Just what did all those stories say about the Forbidden Forest?”
“That few got out alive. That most who did saw monsters and undead of every description. That all who entered became lost within it. They could not find their way back. They apparently ran and kept running until they either died or somehow escaped it.”
“And I think we now know why they saw what they saw and why they became lost. The only thing we don't know is what truly lives in there.”
“Morphia?” Abel felt he had to ask, even though he knew the others would deny his thought. Someone had to say it. Because it might be that they were actually entering holy ground. And even though he was only a very humble wizard at best with barely the rudiments of any training, what he could see of the forest frightened him. He had never imagined that such magic existed.
“The Goddess herself? Living in the world?” Master Zo'or didn't deny the suggestion out of hand. Instead he seemed to think about it. “I doubt it, but I would not say it cannot be. But if nothing else her presence does seem to linger here.”
“The gods left the world long ago!” Princess Elan snapped at them. “All that remain of them are their temples and their followers.”
Abel didn't like the Princess. He wasn't sure that many people would have liked her though. But maybe that was normal. He had never met a princess before – or any royalty for that matter. Maybe they were all like her? Cold, arrogant and rude. Still, she seemed especially disagreeable to him. She continually seemed to lose her temper. And she ordered him around as if he were her servant. Saying please or thank you did not seem to cross her mind. She was also quite happy to tell people they were wrong. She had this certainty about her that would not be breached. Should someone disagree with her she immediately assumed they were wrong.
But after all this time she should have realised not to make such assumptions he thought. Especially on this. This was another example of her being wrong footed. Everyone knew that some of the gods returned to walk the world from time to time. Obviously the celestials like Celea couldn't – he would have set the world alight. But others did. Liasa wandered the world in spring, or so her followers claimed. And Lord Sylvennia returned every so often to witness when a great magic was performed in his name.
Telling the Princess that though would be pointless. She would not accept the truth. Abel looked forward to the time when he would no longer have to deal with her. He suspected the others were looking forward to that time too.
“Regardless Princess, the forest will be dangerous to cross,” Father Argen responded diplomatically. “The real question is whether the altar in the forest that Briagh saw actually exists? And if it does is it really just an altar? Or is it a temple and are there priests there?”
“Because one priest can talk to another Father?” Master Zo'or managed a small breathy chuckle. He might even have been trying to smile under his hood.
This journey had been good for him, Abel thought. The wizard had been alone for too long. Finally he had people to talk to. Even to jest with. And he did like to jest with Father Argen.
The priest and the master wizard seemed comfortable with one another. Respectful. Maybe even friendly. It seemed like an odd match. And yet they were both men of learning and wisdom. Both perhaps too familiar and uncomfortable with the ways of the world. There was certainly no rancour between them. Not as there was between them and the Princess. And they were both polite to him, despite his lowly status.
“That too. But mostly because I like to know what I'm walking into.”
“Oh for pity's sake! It's as clear as Celes what we're walking into. A magic forest where probably everything wants to kill us.” The Princess was her usual blunt self. “And we still have to go in. Because somewhere in there lies your precious student needing to be saved, Master Barachalla, who needs to be killed and my family who need to be rescued – again! Also behind us are wolves.”
“We don't know that for certain.”
“Yes we do.” The Princess rounded on Father Argen. “Stop being so cautious Father. Look at the orange sky in the middle of the day above the forest and know that up ahead is the centre of where everything is happening. I feel it in my bones. And so do you. Besides, where else would those black hearted bastards be going?”
“Everything comes back to the accursed morphs and their poxy Goddess. And that is where her miserable altar is.”
She spoke as if it was already an established fact and there was no cause for question. But the one thing Abel had learned from his time with Master Zo'or was that there was always cause for question. What was dangerous were unquestioned assumptions. Now that he thought about it, he remembered that Father Argen had said much the same thing on a couple of occasions.
Meanwhile, as Abel continued staring at the forest and the orange sky above it, it came to him that he couldn't hear any birds. What did that mean? He suspected it wasn't good.
“W
ell if we continue, we continue on foot.” Master Zo'or pointed out the obvious. It was a shame though, specially for him as he was the one who would be most badly affected by the loss of the horses. But the fact was that they had stopped at the top of the hill because when the horses had seen the forest and the orange sky above it, they had refused to go any further. No amount of coaxing, encouragement or commands would change their minds.
Still, they had plenty of the salve. Both he and Master Zo'or had staffs to help them walk. And if everything went wrong they had one of the most powerful wizards in the land at their side, a priest who would help if what lay ahead truly was an angry goddess, and a capable warrior. They had weapons and supplies, and food as well. In addition, they had the witch compass to guide them. They were as well prepared as they could be.
“Great! And while we walk, Briagh runs. And the others are surely well ahead of him.” Princess Elan vented her frustration once more. “I should go ahead on my own. I'm the fastest. You can catch up.”
“No Princess.” Father Argen corrected her immediately. He could be forceful with her when he wanted. “If you caught up with them on your own you would probably be killed. But more likely you would just get lost. And there is no telling how much worse you would make things. This is not a situation where strength of arms is called for. Instead we need knowledge and wisdom. All of our knowledge and wisdom.”
“Besides, if Barachalla and Callum are in the forest ahead of us, they too will be moving slowly. More so than us. Because the only way they could be ahead of us is if they have a steam wagon. And no steam wagon can travel through a forest. So they too will have to travel on foot. Barachalla is old and unsteady. Callum cannot ride a horse. Also they have four hostages with them who will slow them down further. And with such a forest filled with illusion, they will probably get lost from time to time no matter how great their technology and magic. We may yet beat them to the mountain.”
“Briagh will surely be there ahead of us all, waiting – if he is truly called by the Goddess. He will be the one with the straightest path. The compass will lead us directly to Briagh, and through him the mountain and the altar. Because of it our path through the Forbidden Forest will be as straight as his. Whereas Barachalla and Callum may well take a circuitous path. They may well get lost in it if the tales of the forest are true. And if we can get there first we can prepare.”
“If we go.” Unexpectedly he turned to Abel. “The rest of us are committed to this path. But you don't need to be.”
Abel was taken aback by that. He hadn't thought for a moment that he might not continue the journey with the rest of them. It simply hadn't occurred to him. But then he had to wonder; did the priest not want him to go on?
“Master Zo'or?”
“The Father is right. You are under no obligation Abel. And this is dangerous.”
Abel stood there staring for a moment. Had Master Zo'or just dismissed him? Because he didn't want that. He was learning so much from him, and he wanted to keep learning. Or was he just worried for him? Wanting to give him a way out? It was hard to be certain what he was saying. Between the hood which covered his face so completely and his breathy voice, it was hard to know what he was feeling. Abel turned to the Princess, his least liked member of the group, seeking her thoughts.
She just shrugged, largely he guessed, unconcerned by whether he continued on with them or not. Which left him with the decision completely in his own hands. That was an unusual thing for him. Up until recently he'd worked in the cotton mills with his family. There he'd made no decisions but had done as he was told. In fact, all his life others had told him what to do. Of course, he had only just turned eighteen. That was probably normal. What wasn't so normal was that he suddenly knew what he wanted and that he had the right to choose.
He walked over to the horses and started undoing the straps to unload them. “Someone has to carry the packs.”
Chapter Forty Five
Briagh was beyond exhausted when he finally burst free of the forest to see the mountain ahead of him. His body cried out for sleep. But if he did he would likely die and so he kept fighting the need. He'd been fighting it for the last five days at least. No amount of shifting could make up for a lack of sleep. And sleep was the one thing he couldn't do in the Forbidden Forest. To risk closing your eyes even for a minute was to chance waking up in the maw of one of the trees. Several times that had nearly happened. He had accidentally dropped off, only to find himself being hoisted into the air by the tendrils of some of the trees. He’d managed to escape by shifting form rapidly so that they lost their grip. In the past week Briagh guessed he'd be lucky if he’d enjoyed more than a few hours of rest in total.
But the trees weren't the only danger. Once he'd found a small clearing full of nice soft grass, and celebrated as he'd thought he'd finally found a place far enough away from the trees that he could rest. Then the grass had tried to eat him! It had wrapped itself around his legs and then tried to bite him while he slept. It did it even if he remained still in one place for too long. He couldn’t even remember the number of times he'd had to rip himself free of it and then shift form to stop the bleeding. Even the ground itself was a threat. In places it had grabbed one of his paws and tried to suck him down. The very soil seemed to hunger for his flesh. Briagh had never seen anything like this before. Never heard of anything like it either.
To add to his suffering, there was no true night and day here. Or at least, not anymore. At first when he'd entered there had been. There had been cracks of blue sky appearing through the tree tops during the day. Hints of stars and the moon at night. But as he’d entered deeper into the forest that had changed. Now the sky was orange and gold as it had been in his dreams. At night it was simply a darker, angrier shade of orange and gold – assuming that was actually night. He'd lost track of time. And while he thought he'd been lost in the forest for about a week it might have been far longer.
With the sky as it was, he'd also been unable to keep track of the direction he was following. He had no idea whether he was travelling in a straight line let alone due north as he needed to. There was no sun to guide him. Celes was missing. No stars either. There was only orange and gold.
He hated those two colours. They tended to dominate, making the forest incredibly dark in places. There was no green any more. The trees were simply black. And black trees, black canopies and black grass, all tended to look the same. That too robbed him of his bearings. For all he knew he could have been running around in circles for the last few days. Until he'd entered this forest, he'd never realised how much he liked green. Still, he had to keep going; if only to get away from whatever threatened him, let alone find a mountain he couldn't see.
Naturally there wasn't any food. Not really. Here and there he'd found berry bushes which he nibbled from. There were some forest mushrooms around the trees, but he had to be careful gathering them lest he be grabbed. Once he'd found a small pond and hooked a fish out of it. But then something had launched itself out of the pond at him, something that reminded him of the crocodile he'd encountered back in the sewers. Though he still took the opportunity to drink from every water source he found, after that incident he’d been careful not to tarry. Everything here seemed intent on eating him. Even the ground.
Briagh hated this place. But then he was sure anyone who had ever been here would feel the same. The best a person could say about the place was that they made it out alive. The rest had become dinner for a land that wanted only to eat them.
But as deadly as it was, it worked to his advantage. The wolves had been a problem for the first three or four days. But over time he had heard fewer and fewer of them howling, and he suspected that the forest had eaten them. By now he hoped, if the technologist and his wildred ally were still alive, that they were alone. Unfortunately, that meant that their prisoners were in the same situation. And Endorian was not strong, while the princes and the wolf mother were all out of their minds. None of them would la
st long here. His chances of saving any of them were growing faint.
On the other hand, it seemed that his chances of meeting the woman who kept calling to him in his dreams were increasing. Now he could hear her calling to him even when he was awake. What she was saying, if she was saying anything, he still didn't know. But he heard her call, almost like a song in his blood. It was growing stronger. It was starting to control him. As tired as he was, as much as he wanted to rest, she called him on and he felt a strong compulsion to go to her.
But even as he left the forest and hurried for the promise of the distant rocky foothills, he wondered whether it would be any safer there. What new dangers was he going to end up facing? Trolls? Landslides? Thousand foot drops? Because he was under no illusion that he would find safety anywhere. The chances were he'd just find another set of dangers to wander into.
Suddenly a fireball smashed into the ground not far from him and he started, shocked. Immediately he stopped where he was, and hunted for whatever wizard had hurled the fireball at him. Then more fireballs started smashing down around him and he realised that they weren't being thrown at him at all. They were falling straight down out of the sky. It was then that he knew he had to run. The sky was raining fire and he had to find shelter. And the only shelter there was lay in the mountain ahead. Because he could see a narrow rocky path winding itself around the side of it. The trees wouldn't protect him. But the path had a rocky overhang which might.