Lost Lore: A Fantasy Anthology

by Ben Galley

  “Doesn’t always work,” Tad said, dancing on the path beside his older brother, head darting around as if the dangers of the forest would not wait for night to fall. “Artemis tried to steal the Owl Queen away with one. Didn’t work for him, neither. Fel, can we go home, please?”

  Felton sneered at the tale of Artemis, at the comparison Tad was making. Artemis’ heart had not been pure, though, had it? Felton’s had. He had wanted a life with Hafwen so badly. Why did his Heartwood end up dying, just like Artemis’?

  He shook his head when he realised what he was doing. Artemis and the Owl Queen were just characters in stories. Stupid bloody stories.

  “There,” he said, finally satisfied, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Where once had been two names, now the tree’s bark had been mutilated with a plethora of hacks and scratches. Hafwen’s name was completely obliterated.

  “Will the tree get better, Fel?” Tad asked, pulling on his brother’s tunic.

  Felton looked at the normally pale Heartwood. The black rot ran the length of its trunk, all the way up from the carved names to where the branches strove for sunlight. It had spread quickly.

  “Let’s get going,” he said, leaving the question unanswered, pulling Tad quickly by the scruff of his neck, leaving the tree alone, to die.

  Tad was crying, his sobs becoming increasingly more erratic as the sunlight faded.

  “Fel, where are we? We’ll be home soon, right?”

  Felton, for his part, could well understand his brother’s panic. Night had almost completely overtaken the forest, now. What was worse was that Felton was completely lost.

  How could this have happened? He had memorised the location of the Heartwood tree, had taken his herd there for days before daring to put Hafwen’s name on it. They should be near home by now. Even Tad should be able to recognise the trees just outside of Gallowglass. Instead, Felton was convinced he was in a part of the forest he had never seen before, a densely wooded valley whose floor was littered with as many boulders as trees.

  He was panicked, and was doing what he could to avoid the guilt that was reaching up from his gut, trying to strangle him. They were lost in the forest, night was about to fall, and he had nobody to blame but himself.

  “We’re cutting it fine, Tad, but we’ll be okay,” he assured his brother, hoping Tad could not hear the lie in his voice. “Just you see - evening bell’s gonna ring, and you’ll hear that Gallowglass is right over the next ridge.”

  “Evening bell?” Tad froze, looking at his brother in horror. “We can’t be out when evening bell rings, Fel. The cellars’ll all be locked by then. We’ll be left in the dark.”

  Felton smiled, mirthlessly. “They’ll open them up again once they hear it’s us. I told you this was an adventure, didn’t I? Any of your pals ever been outside after evening bell?”

  Tad started walking again, wide eyes staring straight forward. “Nope. None of them.” He did not appear to be enthusiastic about that fact.

  Then, in the distance, a bell sounded.

  Felton felt the bile rise in his gut. It was far from them. Too far. Hours away.

  He looked to Tad. His young brother was smiling back at him.

  “There it is, Fel,” Tad shouted, running towards the sound. “Just around the corner, right?”

  Felton stood rigid. They were too far from the village to hear, but in his mind he imagined the series of thuds of heavy cellar doors being pulled closed. His ma would probably still be staring out of their cottage door, crying, screaming for her children. Five seconds since the bell rang. That was probably all pa would give them, before pulling ma down into the cellar. He would be crying too, of course, but he would not let his grief make him stupid. Five seconds past evening bell was five seconds too long.

  “Fel?” Tad’s voice was a whisper now, and he crept back to his older brother, reaching out for his hand and gripping it tight.

  An unpleasant smell filled the air, and Felton looked down to see a wetness spreading down Tad’s breeches.

  Artemis’ beard.

  “Okay, okay,” Felton said, moving quick, pulling Tad with him. “Time for an even bigger adventure, Tad. This is going to be good. Really good.”

  Tad said nothing, now, but allowed his brother to pull him along. The little boy’s grip was rigid, was beginning to hurt Felton, but Felton said nothing about it.

  He scanned the treetops above, and was surprised that he could still see in the darkness, despite the sun’s disappearance.

  Above, a cloud parted, and a white light filled the sky. Tad screamed, and Felton quickly covered his brother’s mouth.

  “Shh, shh,” Felton whispered. “Look, look, it’s just the moon, right? You’ve seen her before.” But only when the sky above had been blue, and the moon had seemed distant and faded. Now, in the black above, she seemed ominous, like a watching eye, and they were caught in her gaze.

  He lowered his hand from Tad’s face, and the boy stared, gaping, at the full moon above them.

  Mouth still open, Tad turned to his brother. “I don’t like it, Fel. Make it go away.”

  Felton nodded, his breath coming quick. He stood, looking to the slopes at the valley edge, desperate.

  Magpie King, protect us. Please.

  He pulled Tad along, looking for… looking for something. There were no stories about how to protect yourself in the forest at night. The stories were all about not going out at night at all.

  He felt like whooping when he rounded a particularly large boulder, and saw the cave entrance.

  “Come on, Tad, in here.”

  Tad resisted Felton’s pull on his arm. “That’s not the way home, Fel.”

  Felton looked at his brother, serious. “We’re going home in the morning, Tad. It’s a small cave, I’ll be able to pile up some boulders at the entrance to keep anything from bothering us tonight. Come on.”

  Tad said nothing, but Felton could tell by the shudders that trembled from the small hand gripping him tight that Tad was sobbing. Smart kid was trying to make it as silent as possible, to not attract any attention.

  The cave entrance was mercifully small, even Tad had to stoop to get into it. Clouds were obscuring the moon again, and their night vision began to fail them.

  “I can’t see the back of the cave, Fel,” Tad whispered, as Felton stumbled around outside the entrance, making a pile of boulders to block out the moonlight. “Da always said we shouldn’t go into caves if we couldn’t see if anything else was in them.”

  Felton had noticed this as well, and would be lying if he said it did not disturb him, but he was preoccupied by his rising horror of being out in the forest at night.

  “Don’t worry about it, Tad. We’ll just make ourselves comfortable here at the front of the cave. There’s nothing back there, and even if there was, it’ll not bother us if we keep quiet. Now, shove over, let me in.”

  Felton squeezed in beside Tad, pulling his rocks with him. In a few minutes, he had them piled up in front of the cave entrance, a hastily balanced wall. It would do nothing for them if anything tried to shove it with any kind of force, but hopefully it would be enough to deter any monsters that happened to be prowling nearby.

  Once he was done, Felton put his arm around his brother and pulled him tight to him. In the pitch black, Tad reached for his hand and gripped it hard. The young boy’s fingers were clammy and cold.

  “Fel,” Tad said, eventually. “I peed myself, Fel.”

  “I know, Tad. It’s okay.” Felton felt shame begin to take over him, but made sure the tears that started to run from his eyes were not accompanied by sobs. It would disturb Tad too much to know his brother was crying.

  “What if the thing that lives in this cave can smell my pee?”

  “There’s nothing in here, Tad,” Felton said. “I promise. Just get some sleep, and we can go home i
n the morning. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Felton gasped loudly as he woke. It was still pitch black, still night time. He cursed himself for an idiot - he had not meant to fall asleep.

  He forgot all of this, however, when he realised why he had woken. His right hand was being crushed by Tad’s grip. The young boy felt rigid beside Felton.

  He shook his hand, trying to get Tad to let go of it. “Quit it, Tad,” he whispered.

  “Shh!” Tad said, quickly. The stress in the boy’s voice was evident.

  Felton waited a few seconds, trying to get to grips with his surroundings again. He could hear nothing.

  “Did you hear her, Fel?” Tad whispered quickly. “Could you hear her?”

  Felton listened again, straining his ears to pick out any noises from beyond his pathetic wall of stones.

  “There’s nothing out there, Tad. It was probably just the wind.”

  Tad kept crushing his brother’s hand. “Not out there, Fel. In here. She’s in here, with us.”

  Felton thought the beats from his breast would lead any creatures straight to him. He listened again.

  “I don’t think so, Tad. It’s just an empty-”

  He shut his mouth as he heard the rustling. The entire cave around him - the floor he was sitting on, and the wall he was leaning against - began to rumble, as something large - something close - moved. It was not a stealthy movement, not a quick dance across the cave floor. Something was dragging itself towards them. Something big.

  “I can smell you, little ones,” a voice said, in the dark. It was a female voice, but Felton knew straight away its owner was not human. The words felt as if they had been made by a mouth that had not been created for speech, being too… full of other things. Teeth-like things, perhaps. This creature - whatever it was that was stalking them in the dark - had taught itself to speak by sheer force of will, an abomination against nature’s design.

  “I can smell you. Will find you soon, I think.”

  Beside him, Tad began to shake. It was the kind of uncontrollable movement that would have looked comical if there was light enough to see anything, if not for the knowledge that pure fear was causing Tad’s body to react that way.

  The creature, somewhere close, dragged itself across the cave again, grunting as she did so.

  Quietly, and as quickly as he dared, Felton began to move away the stones from his small wall.

  “It has been such a long day, little ones, and I am tired. Make things easy on mother, will you, and come to me now. Let me kiss you.”

  Once a big enough hole was made, Felton grabbed Tad and shoved him towards it. “Get out, and run, Tad. Don’t stop running.”

  Tad was spasming uncontrollably now, his body not knowing which direction it wanted to go in. “But it’s night out there, Fel! I can’t go out at night.”

  “Artemis’ beard, you can’t stay in here - go!”

  A low noise began behind them. It quickly turned into a growl, and then a scream that pierced their ears like a needle.

  “What did you say? WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

  Tad did not need to be told again. He wriggled into the gap, and with a wink of pale moonlight he was gone.

  “DO NOT USE THAT NAME IN HERE. NEVER USE THAT NAME,” the creature in the black screamed. It was dragging itself forward, much quicker now, taking no breaks, as if Felton’s words had lent it an energy it did not know it had.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Felton said pathetically, fumbling as he tried to move more rocks to make the hole big enough for him to scramble through.

  “I’LL MAKE YOU SORRY, LITTLE ONE. I’LL MAKE YOU LAST FOREVER.”

  He pulled another stone free, and the whole wall collapsed on itself, flooding the cave with moonlight. Felton took a quick glance behind him. The entire cave seemed to have grown legs, giant hairy ones that reached out for him, straining against an opening that was too small for the bulbous body they pulled. So briefly, he caught a glimpse of the moonlight reflected in multi-faceted eyes, and reflected in fangs that lined a screaming mouth.

  Felton pulled himself through the hole, and ran.

  The moonlit forest was a thing of horror.

  It did not seem natural that Felton could see while the sky was black. Not as well as during the day, of course, but in comparison with the cave he had been sleeping in, the open woodland was a pale-painted landscape of reaching limbs and hidden roots for him to stumble over.

  He was out in the forest, and it was night time. Felton knew he was going to die.

  The terror of the situation - his immediate memory of the thing in the cave, and his knowledge of where he was now - overrode any sensible thought that should have occupied his head. He did not stop to think, he did not consider where he was going. He just ran. Legs pounded the forest floor, sometimes squelching through mud, sometimes catching on small shrubs, but never stopping. The thing in the cave might not be after him, but everything else out here would be. His body knew it had to run. It was the only way he would survive this.

  Felton did not know if seconds or hours had passed before he remembered he had a brother. He did not stop running, but looked around wildly to see if Tad was close by. Had Tad waited for him, or had the boy just run as soon as he had gotten out of the hole? Had Tad come this way, or had Felton seen him run in the other direction? He could not remember. He did not even know how far away from the cave he had run himself. His escape could have been hours ago, or mere minutes. In his panic, time was meaningless to him.

  “Tad,” Felton whispered, hoping desperately that his brother would somehow answer him.

  Tad did not.

  If something happened to Tad out here in the forest, it would be Felton’s fault. It had been his idea to travel to Meldrum when they had been sent blackberry picking together. It was Felton who had chosen to head to the Heartwood tree instead of making for home when he had the chance.

  He could not let anything happen to Tad because of him.

  “Tad,” he said, louder this time. Felton kept running, his head arcing wildly, looking for his brother. He knew the noise he was making would attract attention, but now finding Tad was becoming more important than his own survival.

  Still, no answer.

  Regaining control over his own body, Felton willed himself to stop running, to stand still to listen for any responses that might come.

  He filled his lungs, almost gagging at the smell of shit from something nearby - something he had probably trodden in.

  “Tad!”

  This time, he fancied he heard a rustling from some bushes just beyond where he had stopped. It could not be Tad. Tad would say something if he heard Felton shouting for him. Unless something had happened to him that meant he could no longer speak. Tad could be lying in a ditch somewhere close, wounded, unable to make a sound, waiting for his older brother to find him.

  Wiping his feet on the grass to try and get rid of the source of that horrific smell, Felton moved quietly towards the bushes, putting his hand up to pull back the leaves.

  He withdrew it quickly, wincing. The leaves hid a trail of nasty thorns, which had pricked Felton and drawn blood from multiple points on the palm of his hand. The moonlight picked out drops of Felton’s blood as they fell from the offending barbs.

  His lip curling at the bad omen, Felton felt his way gingerly around the thorn bushes, finally getting a look at the clearing behind them.

  His groin tightened, shrivelling in fear at the sight the clearing held.

  There, smiling at him from the other side of the clearing, illuminated by the moonlight, was the Bramble Man. The Bramble Man, and Tad.

  There was no doubt in Felton’s mind at the identity of the creature before him. It perfectly matched the descriptions Tad had been giving since he could speak, the illustrations in the dirt that Felton had helped clear away at the end of th
e day. The creature was large, larger than a man, certainly, but did not appear to be made of flesh. Instead of skin, he was covered in leaves, brittle things that cracked and crumbled as the rooty creature waved at him. The Bramble Man was giggling like a child, using a very familiar voice. Felton’s heart leapt when he realised the Bramble Man sounded almost like Tad.

  Tad. He lay there on the ground in front of the Bramble Man, rigid as a log. The Bramble Man spotted Felton staring at his brother, and in response the creature hugged its knees to its chest, beginning to rock and chuckle. At the noise from the Bramble Man, Tad shook, but this time not through fear. It was then that Felton realised the Bramble Man’s fingers were long, rooty vines, stretching out from under his leafy skin, trailing along the ground in front of him, entering into Tad. As the Bramble Man chuckled, rocking back and forth, Felton could see the roots moving under Tad’s skin, making the little boy shudder involuntarily on the ground.

  “He’ll run his roots deep in you, too,” the Bramble Man chuckled. “He’ll run his roots deep in you, too.”

  “Tad,” Felton gasped, stepping forward, arm stretched out towards his brother. Pain lanced up his foot, and only now he noticed the carpet of brambles that littered the clearing. The barbed patch he had just stepped on was dripping with his own blood, its long needles sharp enough to bite through his cotton clothing. A quick scan of the bramble patch showed Felton he was not the first living thing to fall foul of this danger. All of the thorns in the clearing were red and wet.

  “He’ll run his roots deep in you, too.”

  “Magpie King, protect us,” Felton whispered, helplessly.

  The Bramble Man continued to rock, and Tad continued to convulse, the Bramble Man’s roots becoming more pronounced under the boy’s skin, burrowing deeper through the child’s flesh.

  “Tad? Tad, can you speak?”

  Tad did not answer, but the Bramble Man continued to giggle, amber eyes shining out from behind the foliage of its face.