“At least I could find women who would have me. You never had any kind of luck or success in that field. Do not even try to tell me you desire the one with boy’s hair,” the third voice sneered with contempt. “She does not even try to look as her sex should.”
All three of the dybbuks crept toward Carrie. She lay there waiting with bated breath. Cold fingers swept her hair off her forehead. Their touches chilled her to the bone. She involuntarily shivered under her blanket. Her reaction to their touches set off another round of their inhuman cackling.
“She thinks she can trick us by pretending to sleep!” The third voice howled in amusement. “Let us show her how we punish such trickery. Mortals are so stupid thinking they can fool us dybbuks so easily.”
Carrie bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from crying out. Their fingers trailed icily down her face, her neck, under the collar of her shirt. She broke out in a cold sweat. Her mind kept imagining all the horrible things they were planning to do to her. She had never before felt so helpless, so paralyzed by fear. Nightmare images played out behind her tightly closed eyelids, each one beginning with the dybbuks’ icy, frigid touch. She was plagued with regrets: regrets that she had come to this world, regrets that she had put her friends in such danger. Suddenly, just as she thought she could no longer keep from crying out in terror, the hands jerked away from her skin as if they had been burned.
“We must get away from here!” The first voice hissed in frustration. “These humans are more clever than we gave them credit for. They are protected.”
“What are you talking about?” The second voice demanded.
“She wears a protective charm around her neck,” the first voice said. “We cannot harm her. It would be folly to hurt her friends and inspire her wrath.”
The third voiced grunted in irritation. “This is bad news indeed,” it said. “We must go and tell our king. He will not be happy about this at all.”
Carrie heard the rushed scuttling of their feet as they left. She lay in a ball, shaking from fear. Her hand reached up to grab at her necklace. She lay like that for a long while, twisting its chain around her fingers, imprinting her palms with its shape, trembling in the dark. It was a very long time before she finally became comfortable and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Nine
Peirot Mesucanim
Carrie woke up to beeping. She lazily stretched and looked around. Nothing had changed to show any passage of time. The sky was no lighter than it had been when she and her friends had arrived in this world. Nor was it any darker either. She remembered Adom’s words, that they were facing a never-ending darkness. Carrie reached for her water bottle and took a quick drink. When it was clear that the alarm was not going to wake up her friends, Carrie turned and gently shook them awake.
“Already?” Lindsay asked as she turned off her alarm. “It feels like we just got to sleep.”
“I know,” Carrie said. “But we should really get going. We can’t get all lazy and waste time napping.” She desperately wanted to leave that place. Her mind kept going over what had happened during the night.
Rebecca nodded in agreement. She stood and rolled her head, trying to ease the stiffness in her neck. Her eyes finally fell on Carrie, and she took in her friend’s pale face and the dark circles under her eyes. “Carrie,” she said, concerned. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not a ghost,” Carrie whispered. “A dybbuk. Three of them.”
Lindsay gasped. “What? When? What happened?!”
Carrie quickly briefed them on the events of the previous night while the girls packed up their belongings.
“Well,” Lindsay said, “it’s a good thing you always have your chamtzah. I never realized all the stories about it are true. You know, how it keeps you protected against evil and all that.”
Carrie nodded. “I’m sure glad I have it with me,” she said.
Rebecca smiled at her friend. “Just do me a favour,” she said to Carrie. “Next time we have nighttime visitors, wake us up, okay? If only so we can kick their tails out of our campsite. Got it?”
“Got it,” Carrie promised. “I guess we don’t have the element of surprise anymore. Asmodeus definitely knows we’re here, and we have him scared.”
“All the more reason to get moving,” Rebecca said. She turned to Lindsay. “Lindsay, did you pack any flashlights in that thing of yours? I know we can see, but it might make our way a little easier.”
Lindsay looked up from where she had been packing the blankets away. “Ha!” she exclaimed. “You were ragging on me for how I packed. Admit it! I was right to bring all this stuff.” She rummaged around in her suitcase and pulled out three flashlights. “And I have enough batteries to last us for months.”
Rebecca smiled. “I admit nothing,” she said as she took one of the flashlights from Lindsay and switched it on. “I still won’t help you with that thing either,” she added in a teasing tone.
“I never asked you to,” Lindsay answered back.
Carrie grinned and shouldered her backpack. She was glad her friends were taking things so well. Their banter helped ease the tension she had been feeling since she had heard the dybbuks planning to hurt them. “Hey, Linds,” she said. “Toss me one too. I want to see the compass a bit better. Make sure we’re heading the right way.”
Lindsay tossed a flashlight in Carrie’s direction. Carrie caught it and examined which way the compass’ needle was pointing. She turned herself around to face west.
“Okay,” Carrie said. “Are we all ready? Let’s get going.” She began to walk, confident they were heading the right way.
“Yes, sir!” Rebecca answered, giving a mock salute. She started off after Carrie, flashlight trained on the ground.
Lindsay struggled to keep up with the other girls, tugging on her suitcase as its wheels caught on rocks and roots that stuck up out of the ground. Rebecca turned as she heard the blonde cursing under her breath.
“Fine,” Lindsay said as she caught up with her friends. “It’s a big bag. But admit it, we need this stuff.”
Carrie giggled. “Tell you what,” she said to Lindsay, who stood a few feet back, pouting. “After the next break, I’ll drag that thing for a while if you carry my backpack. Deal?”
“Deal,” Lindsay said with a grateful smile.
Rebecca sighed. “I guess I’ll take a turn later. Okay?”
Lindsay grinned and laughed. “I thought you would never help me with my suitcase. Remember?” she teased, narrowing her eyes at Rebecca.
“Don’t make me change my mind again,” Rebecca threatened her.
“Okay,” Lindsay said, throwing her hands up in surrender. “I won’t bug you about it.”
The trio walked on. Their path took them through a seemingly endless stretch of trees. Occasionally, they would find themselves stumbling over rocks, fallen branches, and raised roots they couldn’t see even in the glow of their flashlights. Rebecca and Carrie both took turns with Lindsay’s suitcase and, though they would not admit it to their friend, their backs were grateful for the time spent without their packs weighing them down.
After many hours, Lindsay decided it was time for a much-deserved rest. The three of them sat under one of many massive trees and rested their weary feet. Lindsay removed her platform shoes and wiggled her toes, sighing in contentment.
“Why are you wearing those stupid things anyway?” Rebecca asked her as she removed her own sandals. She had braided her long black hair to keep it from falling in her face and getting tangled in the branches that overhung their chosen path.
“I don’t own any flats,” Lindsay answered. She reached into one of her pockets, removed a hair elastic, and pulled her hair back into a messy bun.
“Those have to be the dumbest shoes for hiking possible.”
“I don’t hike,” Lindsay replied as she stuck her tongue out at her friend.
“Clearly not.”
Carrie tried unsuccessfu
lly to push her bangs out of her eyes. She was so tired she wanted to fall over and sleep for weeks. Her feet hurt, and her shoulders and back ached. So far, this quest was not what she had thought it would be. She did not know what she had expected—perhaps danger, glamour, magical companions, anything other than trudging through a forest in the dark, on their way to some unknown castle and an unknown foe. She looked around with her flashlight, training its beam on the branches of the trees around them.
“What are you looking for?” Rebecca asked.
“These are fruit trees,” Carrie answered her. “Look. This will be a nice change from the crackers and trail mix I brought for us.”
Rebecca and Lindsay looked where Carrie had aimed her light. The trees around them were filled with the most delicious-looking fruits they had ever seen. Even in the dim light, they saw apple trees laden with fruit the colour of rubies and fig trees whose fruits were so ripe and plump, they looked ready to just drop right off the branches. They saw oranges as big as a man’s fist; the colour was so bright, they barely needed the flashlight to be seen. Carrie stood and walked over to the nearest tree.
“What are you doing?” Rebecca asked, her eyes wide.
Carrie turned to look at her. “I’m going to pick some fruit. Do you want to help me? It will go faster if we all do it.”
“Sounds good,” Lindsay said. “Oh food! Glorious food!” she sang as she stood and walked over to the trees.
“Wait,” Rebecca said. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Why not?” Carrie asked.
Rebecca hesitated a moment before continuing. “I remember,” she said, “my bubbie told me a whole lot of stories that revolved around trees. In them, the fruit was always a temptation for the hero. All that grew had magical properties, and it was almost always a bad idea to eat it.”
“Like the apple in Snow White,” Lindsay said.
Carrie eyed the trees warily. “What exactly did the fruit do?” she asked. “It’s not going to put us to sleep or anything, right?”
Rebecca wrinkled her forehead in thought. “I think I remember one story where there were apples that caused those who ate them to sprout horns,” she said.
Carrie snorted. “Yeah, right! That’s impossible.”
“As impossible as talking foxes?” Lindsay asked.
Carrie shrugged. “Fine,” she said. “But do you know if these are those same apples? After all, Hadariah might not have the same trees as the trees in your stories.”
“I don’t,” Rebecca answered. “But do you want to take a chance? These might be safe, or they may do something even worse. If apples can make you grow horns, then peaches can be poisonous, and figs can put you to sleep. Do you know for sure that we can eat this?”
Lindsay nodded in agreement. “I agree with Becca,” she said. “Let’s leave the trees alone.”
Carrie looked from her friends to the branches that hung tantalizingly close to her head. Directly above her, just out of reach, was one perfect apple. It hung there so innocently. If she could stretch her arm up, she was sure she could reach it. She heard Rebecca’s words, but she could not bring herself to believe them. How could something so appetizing, so beautiful, be so bad? All that stuff about poison and horns seemed so preposterous. She could not possibly be talking about this exact tree. A light breeze tousled her short hair. She could smell the clean earth around her. She could practically taste the fruit on her tongue. Carrie reached up, stretched her hand out, and plucked the apple from its branch.
“Carrie, what are you doing?” Lindsay called out to her friend.
“Put it down, Carrie,” Rebecca warned her friend.
Carrie turned to look at them and held out the apple. It lay round, red, and gleaming in her palm. “It looks fine,” she told them reassuringly.
A sigh on the breeze rippled through the leaves hanging over Lindsay and Rebecca. Nothing else stirred.
“You would do well to heed the advice of your friends,” said a voice.
Carrie dropped the apple as if she had been burned. It rolled off into the darkness. “Who’s there?” she called out.
“I am in front of you, my child,” came the answer.
All three girls looked around. They saw no one. The voice was calm, like a sigh—breathy yet full of warmth, like an old friend.
“Where?” asked Lindsay. “We can’t see you.”
“There’s nobody here but us,” Rebecca said. “No animals either. Where are you?”
Carrie looked around as well, trying to find the source of the voice. She could hear Lindsay rustling around in the darkness to her right and heard her friend laugh.
“Are you the tree?” Lindsay asked.
Carrie turned and gave the tree behind her an appraising look.
Lindsay nervously turned and looked up at the canopy of leaves and branches above her head. She turned as Carrie approached and joined them. Together they examined it. Its trunk was thick and rough, mottled with a thick green moss. Here and there, mushrooms had found purchase in the grooves and holes that speckled the brown bark. Looking farther up, they could see the leaves, like an oak from home, fluttering above them. Unlike every other tree that surrounded them, this one was barren of fruit.
“Um, excuse me,” Carrie said in a small voice. “Did you speak?” The instant the words left her mouth, Carrie felt silly.
Another sigh was heard. This time, Carrie was certain it had come directly from the tree in front of her.
“Yes,” said the tree. “It was I. I felt it best to speak up and prevent you from making what would have been a tragic mistake.”
“Thank you,” said Carrie. Her face was flushed with embarrassment. She looked down at her feet, refusing to meet her friends’ eyes. They must hate her for having not listened to their advice.
The tree chuckled, its leaves dancing above them. “Do not be hard on yourself,” it told her. “These trees are made to charm and enchant those who gaze upon them. Many have fallen prey to their fruits.”
“Why weren’t we affected?” Lindsay asked, gesturing to Rebecca and herself.
“I suppose, in this darkness, you were not as close as your friend and did not use your eyes to gaze directly upon them, as she did,” the tree answered.
Carrie gazed at her flashlight. “My mother always taught me not to judge by appearance. I feel so stupid,” she said mournfully.
Rebecca looked at Carrie and then at the tree. “What would have happened if she had eaten the fruit?” she asked quietly, not sure if she really wanted to know the answer.
The tree shook its branches as if showing the whole orchard around them. “These trees all bear poisoned fruit,” it told her. “To eat anything from them is a sure and sudden death.”
Rebecca and Lindsay’s eyes went wide. Carrie looked even more ashamed. She just wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and hide.
The tree seemed to sense her discomfort. “My child,” it said to her, “this orchard comes from a very ancient magic. The strongest heart has fallen under its spell. Do not despair. It is through no fault of your own that you were fooled.”
Carrie looked up. The tree’s words eased the hurt she was feeling. “Why did you help me?” she asked.
“I have not seen mortals in these woods in many years,” it began. “I had heard whispers that Adom had gone to seek aid, and that mortals had come to restore balance to our world. I presumed you were these mortals. I wanted to help you on your quest in any way I could.”
Lindsay perked up at the mention of Adom. “You know Adom?” she asked.
The tree’s branches swayed, giving it the appearance of nodding. “All here know him,” he told her.
Rebecca had been silent during the conversation, intently examining the tree. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” she began. “Why don’t you have any fruit?”
The tree sighed. “It is law that I do not tell you the answer to this,” it told her. “You must figure this out on your own.”
“I know!” Lindsay cried out. “The fruit trees are all poisonous, right?”
“Yes,” said Rebecca.
“The tree mentioned a test,” Lindsay continued. “Most people would be drawn to the fruit trees because they are beautiful and look like they have a lot to offer, but the reality is the total opposite. So if we go with the idea of opposites, and the fruit trees mean a sudden death, then that would make this tree a tree of life. The fruit are poison, so this tree must have an antidote. Am I right?”
Carrie and Rebecca nodded. It seemed to make sense. As if on cue, the girls were showered with leaves. Carrie took handfuls and put them in her backpack. Lindsay grabbed what she could and fit them into pockets in her suitcase.
“You are indeed correct,” the tree told them. “My leaves have the power to heal whatever ails you. Boil them in water and drink it all. Then you will be healed. Now I would advise you to continue on your way. I wish you much luck and success on your journey.”
“Thank you for your gift,” Rebecca said. “We appreciate your help.”
“I am glad to do my part to aid you on your journey,” the tree replied. “I wish you much luck in your travels.”
With the tree’s wishes, the girls turned and left the orchard, continuing forward, now knowing that there were dangers beyond those that lay in wait in Asmodeus’ castle.
Chapter Ten
Ha Khilutz
Carrie seemed lost in her own thoughts. No matter how hard Rebecca and Lindsay tried, she would not snap out of her dark mood. They joked; they gossiped with her; they pretended to fight over the most ridiculous things. Yet, nothing worked. Hours passed, and soon her friends could not take her silence anymore.
The Song of Hadariah: Dybbuk Scrolls Trilogy: Book 1 (Dybbuk Scrolls Trillogy) Page 5