The Redwoods

by Ross Turner

  For predators in the woodlands this was almost unheard of. But then of course, so were giant, talking, red bears.

  Vivian doubted that any other cubs of only three months old would be hunting, but Clover and Red seemed to break most of the rules of nature regardless, so that was one thing she didn’t bother to question.

  On this particular hunt, Clover and Red located a small herd of deer amongst the thick foliage. Their senses were far more acute than Vivian’s, and she simply had to take their word for it that the deer were there, for she could not smell or hear them like the rest of her family could.

  “Where are they Red?” Vivian whispered to her friend, cupping her hand close to his ear so as not to alert the deer.

  Red was growing bigger seemingly by the day, and his frame was widening more and more as he grew, and surely by the time he was an adult he would be much bigger and more powerful than his mother, which, admittedly, Vivian sometimes struggled to comprehend.

  He indicated with his thick snout in which direction the deer were, and Vivian could see Clover slowly circling off to one side through the trees and bushes, somehow moving her massive bulk almost silently.

  She had seen this type of hunt many times before now, and their tactics were quite simple. Clover would manoeuvre herself to one side of the herd, and Red the other. Red would then attempt to ambush the deer - a difficult task for any predator, whilst Clover waited for the others to flee directly into her path. It didn’t matter who made the kill, they were all usually guaranteed a meal. And so, as usual, that plan unfolded in pretty much the same way that it always did.

  Clover sidled herself into position to the east, and Red did the same to the west. Vivian could not see Clover, but stood sheltered just behind a tree not far from where Red was preparing his ambush, she could see him clearly. She could also by now just make out the tips of the herd’s ears as they grazed, looking up and listening periodically, searching for danger. But they could not detect the great red bears closing in upon them, for they were just too cunning, too intelligent, and too silent, keeping downwind and invisible.

  Soon they were set, ready to begin, and just as Vivian saw Red crouch low, preparing to spring forward with all the power he could possibly muster, every pair of eyes and ears in the herd shot up, instantly alert. Red too stopped frozen still, his ears perked up and his nose to the wind. Vivian knew instinctively, somehow, that Clover would be doing the same to the east.

  What had they all sensed?

  Something was wrong. But what it was, Vivian had no idea, for she could not hear and see and smell in the same way that the red bears or the deer could. Her human senses were dulled and useless in comparison. She was blind and deaf and helpless.

  So, instead of attempting to locate the threat herself, she used Red and the deer that she could see. Moving very slowly, so as not to attract the attention of the herd and startle them, Vivian manoeuvred forward slightly.

  First she tried with Red, but he was so still and so silent, that he gave absolutely nothing away. It would be futile for her to try to read him.

  So next, Vivian looked to the deer, of which she could see three. They were craning their heads and necks this way and that, their huge ears twisting wildly and their noses twitching madly, all desperately trying to find what it was that had alarmed them so.

  After watching them for a few moments Vivian found herself lost in their movements, tracing their every motion. Soon she even felt as if she was stood amongst them, and though she knew that was impossible, that was exactly what happened.

  Although she had not moved, Vivian now found herself stood directly between the three deer she had seen. They were taller than her, and their fur was neat and tidy and very regal looking, a lovely soft velvet of russet and auburn, marked with black streaks that followed the curves and lines of their limbs exactly. Looking around she could see the rest of the small herd too, now that she was somehow stood amongst them.

  It was a small group - only nine in total. They all stood bolt upright, every one of their incredible senses focused and alert, yet none of them knew she was there between them.

  Vivian reached out to the deer nearest to her, the one she had first seen twisting its ears wildly, and placed her hand upon its soft back, running her fingers through its silky fur, yet it didn’t move. It was as if she wasn’t even there. It didn’t feel her or hear her or smell her, even as she stroked it and smiled affectionately.

  Looking back in the direction that she knew Red was concealed, she couldn’t see him, but she could sense that he was still there, poised in exactly the same position, silent and watchful.

  Did he know she was out here? How did she even get here?

  That was when she looked further back through the trees, casting her eyes over the low, thick shrubs and towards the treeline in the background, quite a way in the distance. But it didn’t matter how far away it was, for what she saw was unmistakeable, and indeed also quite frightening.

  Peeking her little head around the side of a thick trunked tree, her glorious, soft brunette hair, dashed and streaked with lighter shades that glimmered in the afternoon sun breaking through the tree covered canopy above, Vivian saw herself. It seemed that she hadn’t moved after all, and as she stared into her own rich, glowing, young blue eyes, fear of the unknown settled into her heart, heavy like lead and steel and stone, beating metallically and unforgivingly against her ribs.

  What in the world was going on?

  But Vivian didn’t have chance to worry about how she had somehow managed to be in two places at once, at least not for long, because at that very moment, all nine deer, and she somehow sensed that Red and Clover were doing the same, snapped their eyes and ears south, focused immediately upon the same spot.

  Vivian turned her head to look too, but her movements were infinitely slower than the herd’s, and by the time she saw the enormous black wolf explode from the undergrowth, fangs and claws bared terribly, the deer had sprung into life all around her, darting for safety in every direction possible.

  The charging monster did not pause, even for a second, and it launched itself straight for Vivian with all the speed and power it could muster. And Vivian saw, in the brief moment before the beast was upon her, that it was driven not by evil, but by hunger, and strangely she respected it for that, for it was doing nothing wrong.

  And so, for some reason, as she had done those few months ago when she had expected Clover to kill her, Vivian simply closed her eyes and waited for death, welcoming it with open arms, for it was only natural, and she had escaped it so narrowly so many times already, that it was bound to catch up with her eventually.

  The young girl took a deep breath, now so close to the beast that even she too could smell the wolf’s powerful scent, and once again she waited for the mauling to begin.

  6

  But, yet again, it never came.

  Vivian waited, and waited, and waited some more, her eyes held peacefully shut, and her breaths deep and calm. Yet, the longer she remained, the less she could smell the wolf. The beast’s scent slowly receded and vanished as if it had never been there, and she was left with nothing but the fragrance of the forest’s afternoon air and the Redwood pines all around.

  Then came the high pitched squeal of panic echoing between the trees and through the forest, likely to be heard for many leagues in every direction. The sound made Vivian flinch, but it had originated from quite far off, and so she cracked her eyelids tentatively open and peered through them, afraid of what she might see.

  “Viv.” Red’s voice sounded from beside her, and she turned her head to see her loyal friend padding his way back towards her.

  She looked round for a moment, confused, until she realised that she hadn’t moved. Her feet were rooted to the same spot, and her neck ached from craning round the tree to see the deer in the distance, though of course now they were gone.

  “Yes?” She replied automatically. “What happened?” Of course Red thought she w
as asking why he and Clover had not made their attack, which was altogether reasonable, as she had no logical way of knowing what had interrupted them, save that something had startled the deer.

  In actual fact, Vivian was referring to how on earth she had ended up amongst the herd, and almost become the wolf’s dinner, but equally, Red had no way of knowing that either.

  But then, had she ever actually been in danger? Vivian thought to herself. And the more she thought on it, the less convinced she was.

  Red’s response told her what she needed to know.

  “It was a black wolf.” He explained. “It came from the south, from the mountains. Food must be scarce down there, the Redwoods say that it’s not often they venture this far north.”

  Clearly Red hadn’t seen her amongst the deer either.

  What had happened?

  “Ok…” She replied a little vaguely, her mind preoccupied.

  “Are you alright Viv?” Red asked immediately, detecting at once that something wasn’t quite right. Vivian decided to get her facts straight before telling her family of her strange episode, if that’s even what it was. At this point she really had no idea.

  “Yes…” She replied, again just as elusively. “I was just surprised the wolf interrupted your hunt.” Red nodded, understanding what she meant.

  “He didn’t smell us.” He explained. “He was upwind of us, and the herd. That, and the fact that he’s hunting alone, he must be desperate.”

  “Then it was generous of you to let him take the kill…” Vivian surmised, in many ways seemingly far too mature and concise for an eleven year old.

  Suddenly then, Clover appeared, rustling quietly through the trees and brushwood back towards her two cubs.

  “It wasn’t generosity.” She explained immediately, her tone understanding. “It was necessity.”

  “Necessity?” Vivian repeated, confused.

  “I spoke for the animals, remember?” Clover reminded the young girl, referring to the conversation they had had when they’d first met. Vivian recalled somewhat reluctantly the night her family had been murdered, and the conversation they’d had.

  Clover had told her that she often spoke through her parents to protect the woodlands, and the mountain ranges, and all those animals that live within them.

  “Yes.” Vivian replied. “I remember…”

  “So it would be cruel of me to deny my fellow creatures food, when they are so clearly struggling. We have an advantage in hunting, so it was only fair to let them have this one.” The logic was sound, and indeed also profound.

  Rarely is such a thing ever seen between humans, even between those of the same kin. Greed is far too deeply rooted in human nature to allow such consideration.

  “Why are they struggling so much?” Vivian asked then, wondering why, if indeed the trees had been correct about the black wolves rarely venturing this far north, they were doing so now.

  “The Redwoods have been warning me for some time now, since your parents were killed, that men are poaching again. More and more every day.” Clover explained. “We’ve seen the evidence of that ourselves…” She added, referring of course to the trap they had found some time ago, and Vivian shuddered slightly at the horrible memory, again imagining her fragile bones being crushed with ease between the gaping metal jaws.

  “Because my parents aren’t alive to stop them?” Vivian said then, somewhat sorrowfully, in more than one respect.

  “I’m afraid so.” The great mother bear agreed, and Red’s face dropped also, understanding all too keenly the gravity of the situation.

  Who would protect the woodlands now?

  It seemed that without a protector amongst the humans, someone to speak for nature, conditions were worsening rapidly. It was only a matter of time before poaching spread further, and the effect was felt evermore widely.

  But to Clover at least, the answer to that question was obvious, and she spoke again almost immediately.

  “Vivian.” She began, her voice low and quiet and serious. Her following words were much more direct than usual, and Vivian took that to be a sign of grave importance. “I know you lost your family, but you can stay and live with us until you’re older. Until you’re strong enough to go back to your people. The other families will still be looking for you, and they’ll be too much of a threat to you so young.”

  “What difference would my age make?” Vivian asked then. “They killed my parents, why would my being older make a difference? They’ll kill me just the same.”

  “In time, things will be different. It’s not your age we must wait for.” Clover replied mysteriously, but she said nothing more of it, and instead turned and began back towards their cave. She sighed deeply then. “We’re in for hard times…”

  Vivian looked at Red with concern, and he glanced back at her, for he too knew that his mother was keeping something from them, and that she would not reveal it to them prematurely. Red would learn of it soon enough, as his knowledge and his connection with the Redwoods grew and developed, but then he too would be required to keep the knowledge he gleaned hidden from his dearest friend, for it was something that she would need to discover for herself.

  7

  Ever since Dorian and Miranda Featherstone had been murdered, relative chaos had ensued throughout Virtus, and indeed the House as well. For now the two leaders, whom all had solely relied on for so long, were simply gone. Families fought each other for rights to rule, obviously all declaring themselves more fit than the others. In truth, none had ever had any more right than another, not even the Featherstones - they had simply been the wisest, most sensible, and most powerful choice.

  Very few fought Vivian’s corner, arguing that there should be a search organised to locate her, or her body, either way, because now of course the entire inheritance of the Featherstone’s fell to her, and if she were ever to be found, that of course would mean the other families would once again be out of the running. Therefore, those arguments were quickly dismissed, and the entire Featherstone fortune, land included, was up for grabs, rightly or not.

  There was one family however, who had much more of a vested interest in young Vivian than the others did, for they had failed to kill her the first time around. The Greystones could still feel her presence, hidden and disguised so cleverly amongst the Redwoods, by the very trees themselves, defending their last remaining protector.

  But slowly and surely, over the weeks and months and years during Vivian’s absence, the Greystone’s power grew, and they devised a ploy so evil and fiendish to flush young Vivian out, or even better to kill her, that even mother earth herself would have been sickened by it. Their idea took time however, for though it was one evil man in particular’s creation, it required the strength of many to bring to life - power that they did not have immediately at their disposal.

  They cursed the Featherstones continually as they worked and laboured, pouring all their combined efforts into their task, for they knew that either Dorian, or Miranda, or likely now even Vivian, whether she had known it or not, would each alone have held the vast amounts of power that they so desired.

  But, of course, the Featherstones had never used their abilities in such a way.

  Dorian and Miranda had only ever bent their wills to the good of the Redwood Empire, the animals and the people alike, and in the eyes of the Greystones, that made them weak.

  “She’s still out there!” One man declared, his voice forceful and his fat gut heaving with every breath. “I can sense her you fools! We must destroy her!”

  “Don’t be so hasty Nicholas.” A second Greystone replied. “Even if she is still alive, she’s only a girl. She probably doesn’t even know of her power yet.”

  “Hmm…” A third man agreed. His frame was thinner than the other two and his limbs wiry, and he was a good decade older or so. “I agree with Cedric.” He said. “It’s pointless chasing after her now. We should just follow the plan and listen to The Grey.”

  “The G
rey!?” Nicholas demanded then. “That silly old fool would sacrifice us all just to create that monster of his!”

  “What does it matter?” Cedric questioned then. “If we’re successful, what’s a few sacrifices?”

  “A few sacrifices!” Nicholas spluttered. “He’d happily kill us all himself!”

  Cold footsteps approaching the three men silenced them then, and the tension in the air changed immediately, hanging ominously all around.

  “You’re not wrong, Nicholas.” The Grey said then, his voice quiet and threatening. He was an old man, having lived the lives at least of more than several men. He looked wearied and tired with the world around him, and his eyes seemed burdened by time. “You sound as if you disagree?” He asked then, his words threatening and aged.

  “N…No, elder, not at all…” Nicholas managed to stumble.

  “Is not our family’s success more important to you than one man’s gain?”

  The old man’s lips were chapped and almost white, barely any colour in them at all, making him look even older. His face was streaked and lined with creases and wrinkles, clearly the long years having taken their toll on his body, though his mind was just as cunning and vengeful as it ever was - probably more so.

  “Of course it is…”

  “You don’t sound too sure, Nicholas.” The elder replied ominously.

  “He doesn’t mean anything by it, elder.” The third man spoke again then. “He was not speaking ill…”

  “Julian…” The Grey cut him short then. “I was not speaking to you.”

  Julian understood immediately and silenced his tongue, knowing by The Grey’s tone they were all treading on very thin ground. The threatening old man looked back to Nicholas and smiled menacingly. The portlier man’s eyes were full of fear and his face blanched.

  “You should take heed of Julian’s example.” He said to Nicholas then, his tone thoughtful, even whimsical. “These little outbursts of yours aren’t good for you. You might find they start to affect your health…”