Secret of Gloomwood Forest

by Keira Gillett

  “His wyvern found us,” Filip said between mouthfuls of cake, as he pointed to himself and Aleks. Apparently he had room for dessert after all, but Zaria didn’t. She’d pop if she ate anything else.

  “Yeah,” Aleks said, “Terrified the cra– uh… stuffing out of us.”

  “And then Norwick found us,” Zaria said, pointing to Geirr and herself.

  “I bet meeting a creature like Norwick for the first time was a little unnerving,” Frida said, sitting down with them and pouring a tea for herself.

  “More than a little,” Geirr grumbled. He waved away Frida’s offer of tea cakes. “Full,” he offered as an apology.

  “I remember when Hector first got Norwick,” Edevart said, his gaze faraway.

  Aleks took a long swallow of tea and said, “He mentioned the previous owner didn’t rub along with Norwick.”

  Edevart snorted. “That’s an understatement. Per is a usually levelheaded husbandman, but Norwick was so stubborn and intractable that Per lost his temper with the beast on multiple occasions. Everyone knows a calm demeanor works best with wyverns.”

  “He didn’t hurt Norwick, did he?” Zaria asked, aghast.

  Frida rushed to reassure her. “We wouldn’t be as good with beasts and creatures of the woods if we didn’t respect the animals. Gentle hands, firm methods, fast results as my mother always said.”

  Aleks said, “Hector was helping us reach Álfheim, but we really need to reach Gloomwood.”

  “Gloomwood?” Edevart asked, puzzled. “Why would you children be interested in Gloomwood?”

  “We’re rescuing a friend,” Filip said, reaching over to steal a cake from Aleks’ plate.

  “You don’t want to go to Gloomwood Forest,” Frida said, gathering cups and plates. She was clearly discomposed.

  “Why not?” Zaria asked.

  “Because chances are you will die,” Edevart said with a note of finality. He then shooed them off to bed and wouldn’t answer any further questions on the matter.

  ***

  The next day was the fourth day of their adventure. Cleverness was running short amongst the four friends. They needed to know more about Gloomwood, and their elven hosts were not forthcoming with information.

  At breakfast, which was served in a communal style with all of the elves coming and going as they pleased, the children squabbled about what to do next. In the end a straightforward approach was decided. They would target the younger looking elves to see what they would divulge in gossip about the forest.

  Geirr, the one who had drawn the short straw, stood up to get unwanted seconds. Zaria and the others watched his progress. He did not look calm and was jittery with unspent energy. Zaria thought he probably wasn’t the best choice, but she didn’t want to have to ask either. It seemed almost forbidden.

  While the cooks served him another bowl of an oatmeal-like substance, the group could see him talking to a white-haired girl elf. She gave him a strange look and wandered off. Geirr looked back at them, his face tense and unsmiling. Zaria gave him an encouraging smile.

  Geirr joined the line for meat and stood behind two strapping young lads with bows across their shoulders. They seemed more interested in talking to Geirr than the elf girl. Zaria was hopeful.

  If they didn’t shut him down, he would soon casually mention the heart. Geirr would then try to draw the answers out of those around him about what it was and where it could be found. Zaria was more and more hopeful that Geirr was getting answers the longer it took for him to return.

  About fifteen minutes later, Geirr sat down at the table with cold mush and a grin. Aleks took the slab of meat off his bowl and started to tuck into it. He liked venison.

  “Well?” Filip asked, impatient. He flicked a piece of bread at Aleks’ head and grinned when Aleks glared.

  Zaria sat up and tossed her braids over her shoulder. Filip stopped playing with his food and looked expectantly at Geirr. Aleks also stopped eating to pay attention.

  “Gloomwood Forest is a four hour trip to the west by foot. I didn’t get much information about the heart other than it could be found in a circular vale of alder trees.”

  “Alder trees?” Zaria questioned, scrunching her nose and twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Didn’t Hector say his people lived by alder trees? Do you think we have to steal from Hector’s people?”

  Geirr looked at Zaria and shook his head. “The elves didn’t say so. If the ellefolken live in Gloomwood Forest, it was never said.”

  Aleks looked up at the sky. “We need to get going soon then. It’s already past mid-morning.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Geirr said, now looking a little worried. “Gloomwood Forest is home to ghouls, witches, banshees, and other creatures associated with evil and darkness.”

  “Which would explain Edevart’s and Frida’s reluctance to give us information,” Zaria interjected.

  Geirr shrugged. “Apparently these creatures are attracted to the underworld –”

  “Under Realm,” Zaria corrected. “Hector said it was the Under Realm.”

  “Er… right. Anyway, the elves give these creatures leeway in Gloomwood if they don’t cause trouble. The elves mentioned the elders don’t want to start another war. The last one devastated the elves and ellefolken.”

  “Did you learn anything else?” Aleks asked.

  Geirr shook his head. “Just that we need to be exceptionally careful, even though the elves regularly patrol the woods to keep the peace.”

  Zaria nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. She picked up a loaf of bread and stuffed it in the waistband of her jeans.

  “Really?” Filip said, giving Zaria an incredulous look.

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “We’ll either use the bread as breadcrumbs like in fairy tales or to stuff our ears so we don’t hear the banshees wail.”

  “In that case –” Aleks stuffed a half loaf in his waistband, “– it doesn’t hurt to have more.”

  ***

  It was some time before the changes to the forest were noticed by the children. They’d been too concerned about sneaking out from under Hector’s watchful presence to see the first telltale signs that they had entered Gloomwood Forest. The bright silvery trees that made up the Álfheim grew scarred and gnarled. Shadows from the branches flickered like ghostly fingers along the ground. It was difficult to imagine that a few short hours ago they had sat down for breakfast in the cheery vale.

  When they had first reached the west wall of trees outside Álfheim, the children stopped to pick up large hefty sticks. At first, the idea was to use them as weapons if the need arose, but the more pressing need for them was for leverage to wade through the snow.

  Wading through thick snow wasn’t anyone’s idea of fun. Filip and Geirr bemoaned the absence of the snowshoes Hector had provided them, which like most of their gear, resided underground in Trolgar, the mountain-troll kingdom.

  Zaria tried not to complain. It wouldn’t do any good. So she studied their surroundings. Gloomwood Forest definitely earned the name. Even with most of the trees bare and covered in snow, the woods were decidedly gloomy. The shadows made creepy shapes that formed and dispersed in a blink on the ground and at a distance.

  The trees looked rotten and the smell wafting from them was putrid. Some trunks even appeared to have faces trapped in them, screaming terror. It unnerved Zaria greatly, but she didn’t say anything to the boys, thinking they would make fun of her.

  A howl in the distance alerted the group. Aleks reached for his bread, but Zaria stayed his hand. She cocked her head to the side and listened. When it came again, accompanied by a horn, her eyes widened.

  “The Wild Hunt!” she exclaimed.

  Filip and Aleks cursed.

  Geirr looked around worriedly. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean are you really, really, sure?”

  The horn blasted again, louder. Zaria didn’t need to corroborate her assumption anymore for they were all convinced. Geirr grow
led in frustration. She silently agreed with him. They did not need this now.

  “Stay close,” was all the warning Aleks gave before he took off at a run.

  Once again the friends were going to rely on his sense of direction. Filip grabbed Zaria’s hand and started hauling her forward. She grabbed Geirr’s arm on the way past.

  They ran, and as they ran, left behind tracks so large even the dumbest dog could have followed them. Crashing noises in the woods immediately behind them spurred the children on. There was no time to think. No time to plan. And apparently no time to run.

  The Wild Hunt which had sounded distant was not as distant as the children had hoped. Glowing eyes from wolves appeared in the shadows. Growls and snarls and excited yips hedged them in from both sides. The call of the horn grew closer.

  Aleks took swift action and charged at a singular set of glowing eyes. The wolf snapped at them, but Aleks whacked its snout with his walking stick. They raced past the wounded wolf and toward a burbling brook. Aleks leapt over a log and they all copied him as if they were playing a deadly game of follow-the-leader. Do or get left behind.

  But the wolves and the shouts and the horn were just a distraction from the true hunting party. Ahead of them was Jorkden seated proudly on a harnessed brown bear. His white fur cloak rippled in the wind, and the grin on his face was so wide you could see he had tusks. Zaria hadn’t noticed that before. He held up his spear.

  “Found her,” he called out. Then, “Groul, Yorgish, Mangus.”

  Another three trolls melted from the shadows. One was thick and stout with a scraggly beard, another tall and reed thin with a whip-like tail, and the last was between them in appearances with bushy brows. The last one was Mangus and he wore a mean expression. Clearly he was happy with how events had played out.

  Zaria gave him her best stink-eye. He grinned in response. That grin was terrifying. She huddled closer to Filip, who stepped in front of her. Aleks and Geirr pushed closer too.

  The boys held their sticks up, eager to fight as only untried teens could be. Zaria kept her stick braced against the ground. She was not eager to fight. She was tired of fighting and she was tired of running.

  “Bring her to me,” Jorkden said. His voice was quiet and more sinister because of it.

  Zaria tripped on her own feet trying to back away. Filip righted her and pushed her away from him and the others.

  “Run, Zaria,” he urged. “Run and don’t look back.”

  “I can’t!” she cried.

  A blast of sound erupted from the three trolls. They charged forward roaring and brandishing their spears. She couldn’t leave the boys, she just couldn’t. She was scared.

  “Go now,” Aleks yelled, and then he did a brave and utterly senseless thing and charged at the trolls.

  Filip pushed her again, and she stumbled away. He watched her right her balance. Then, he pointed to the trees opposite them. “Now, Zaria, run.”

  She ran. When she reached the first set of trees she dared to look behind her and winced. The boys were being pummeled. Geirr had already lost his stick.

  From the corner of her eye she saw Jorkden surge forward on his bear. She turned away and kept running. She crashed wildly through the trees. The woods got denser. The snow grew deeper. The smell grew fouler. She fell into a soft patch, losing her walking stick in the process.

  The bear roared behind her. She struggled against the snow and dared not to look again. She’d be paralyzed in fear, if she saw Jorkden and the bear stalking her.

  “Think, Zaria, think,” she whispered to herself when she regained her feet.

  Her gaze darted everywhere. She thought about climbing the trees, but knew she didn’t have the coordination. She couldn’t keep running willy-nilly either.

  To her right the woods grew even closer; bushes with thick brambles were densely packed between the tree trunks. If she could reach them, perhaps she could hide in them. It would force Jorkden to relinquish his advantage on the bear. He’d have to get off and follow her, and he was bigger than the average troll. The going wouldn’t be easy for him.

  Just as the troll and bear lunged into view, she made her move. Plunging into the thicket, Zaria pressed forward. She ignored the scrapes and scratches the brambles and thorns inflicted on her. Behind her she heard Jorkden curse loudly. His bellowing spurred her on.

  Deeper and deeper she went until like a cork she popped free into a golden glade. It was as gold and shimmery as the elves’ glade was silver. The sunlight was so pure it looked like it had gilded the trees. There was no snow here. The sun had melted it all.

  Across from her stood a young elk by a sluggish river. He had a white pelt and golden horns. He could have been the brother to the stag that had become Hector’s cape. He was beautiful.

  His bleak expression turned her heart over. Why was such a creature so sad? Zaria approached, forgetting for a moment her pursuer. She came within a few feet of the elk and stretched out her hand.

  He snorted. The hot breath from his nostrils warmed her fingers. She ran her hand over his snout and down over his back. His fur was soft as velvet and as luxurious. She felt him breathe.

  “You’re magnificent,” she told him.

  He blinked slowly at her, his mouth twisted in an unhappy moue. His large eyes seemed to hold the whole world in them and silently say it was too much of a burden to bear. His eyes were golden like his antlers, and she could see her reflection in them. What must he think of her presence?

  “I’m in trouble,” she said. “The Wild Hunt is after me, and I don’t know why. My friends are in danger, and our other friend is being ransomed by a river-troll. What do I do?”

  Of course the elk said nothing. How could he? She felt silly for expecting an answer. Too many fairy tales, she thought. But he looked so wise she couldn’t help the asking. She cast her gaze at the river and frowned. Knives flowed in it. Actual knives – with blades and handles!

  She stroked the creature quietly for a moment while she pondered the strange vision. When she returned her caresses to his neck she noticed he wore something. Hooking her fingers around the chain she lifted it up and stared in shock.

  In her hands was a rough ebony stone shaped somewhere between and arrow and a heart. She unclasped it and held it aloft. When the sunlight pierced it the stone turned white.

  She looked around and noticed that the golden glade was circular. The trees were not misshaped like in the rest of Gloomwood Forest. They stood tall and proud with branches interlocked with one another. You could not tell where one ended and another began.

  The trunks were thick and old, their roots deep. They too had face-like images held within their depths, but these faces were noble somehow and watchful. That kind of gave her the creeps too. She looked away.

  Somehow she’d made it to the heart of Gloomwood Forest. And in her possession was the heart of the forest itself, she was sure of it. She grabbed the elk’s face in her hands. He pranced away in discomfort, but she held him until he settled.

  “Can you help me? I need to get to the Glomma.”

  His intelligent eyes weighed her and he nodded.

  “Thank you,” she said, bussing his nose.

  He knelt, and she clambered onto his back. She tied the necklace around her neck then gave him a pat to indicate she was ready. Together they turned, followed the river and exited the glade in the opposite direction she’d entered.

  * * *

  Chapter Eleven: Fleeing the Hunt

  Zaria and the stag reentered the main part of the forest where the river sliced through the glade. Flashes of silver light from the knives bounced off the shadows and brightened the surrounding gloom. All was silent except for the sound of the water.

  The elk took a path that was set at an angle from the river, turning them southeast. His feet were sure and his pace steady. He did not seem afraid which heartened Zaria tremendously, but she still scanned the woods like Hector had taught her a few days ago. Just in case.

>   The further away they got from the river the more sounds of life returned. Trees groaned under the weight of snow, icicles clinked in the wind, and the roar of water faded into the white noise of the forest’s inhabitants resuming normal behaviors.

  Night fell and still she and the elk wandered. The bite in the air grew chillier. Zaria briskly rubbed her gloved hands and stuffed them under her armpits. She hunched down and watched her breath fog for a few minutes.

  A sharp crack resounded in the dark. She and the elk froze. He cocked his head listening carefully to the sounds in the woods. All had gone silent, hushed by the unexpected sound. He pawed the ground nervously, but otherwise stayed still.

  Zaria peered into the forest behind her, regarding the shadows intently. She clutched the stone hanging from her neck and prayed for guidance. Should they continue moving forward or stop for the night?

  “How much farther, buddy?” she asked, stroking his neck. “Do you need to take a break? I think I might.”

  He hunkered down allowing her to get off. When she clambered down, she groaned. Stretching was both a delicious joy and a torture as she worked her stiff muscles and relaxed her posture.

  She kicked at the snow until she formed a bit of a nest. When she’d made space big enough for the two of them she sat down. Zaria felt a bit ridiculous sitting at the elk’s feet with him peering down at her curiously. She patted the earth beside her.

  “Join me,” she said softly.

  The elk circled twice and curled up beside her, lending her his warmth. She snuggled into his fur and breathed in his rich earthy scent. For a while she lay there quietly looking up at the stars through the branches. They twinkled brightly, and those friendly lights combined with the stag’s warmth made her feel safe. She fell asleep, guarded by her mysterious woodland creature and the sky.

  ***

  Before dawn broke, Zaria was nudged awake by the stag. He waited dutifully for her while she made a quick trip into the woods to relieve her bladder. When she returned, she saw him pulling up hunks of the scruffy vegetation she revealed under the snow the night before.