by Kara Timmins
“It could be,” Eloy agreed. “But we’re here to find things. Just because I think I know where to go doesn’t mean that’s where it is. How big was this reflection of light?”
“It’s hard to say. I could only see so much of it through the canopy.”
“What did your senses say?” Eloy asked. “Did it throw any alarms?”
“No alarms, but no encouragement either.”
“I want to check it out,” Eloy said. “What do you two think?”
Malatic shrugged and picked at the healthy side of his back teeth with a little stick. “It’s fine by me. Neas?”
“It’s worth checking out. That we need to be careful goes without saying, but I’m curious. I’ve been trying to think of what it could be. It’s not water, I know that much. It’s not that kind of reflection.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Eloy said. “We’ll walk straight north and see what this thing is. If it isn’t anything, we’ll cut back northwest and head toward the rock like we have been.”
“Sounds good,” Malatic said with a yawn.
“Who’s taking first watch?” Neasa looked back and forth between Eloy and Malatic.
Malatic hunched his shoulders and hung his head. “Oh no. I suddenly feel so sick again. I don’t know what happened. I was feeling so much better.”
Neasa poked him in the ribs, causing Malatic to stifle his involuntary giggle with a cough.
“I’ll take middle watch,” Eloy said.
“You sure?” Malatic said, his composure regained.
“It’s no problem,” Eloy said. “Wake me up if you start feeling too tired, even if it’s early.”
“Thanks, man. I should be fine. It’s not so bad being able to help keep an eye again.”
“Well, Neasa and I will both be glad for the extra sleep.” Eloy lowered himself to the ground and moved to his side, his back to Malatic and Neasa. “Night.”
Eloy tuned out their soft murmurings and thought about what the reflective thing ahead of them could be. He tried to shoo away any thoughts of potential creatures lurking there. There couldn’t be more things like the eels. Not in a place of light.
37
Neasa woke him early the next morning. He wasn’t sure if it was the extra sleep or the prospect of discovering something new that made the difference, but he felt surprisingly light, his overall demeanor and perception of the wonder greatly improved from the previous days. The realities of what had happened in this strange world so far weren’t gone, certainly, and the numerous betrayals still burned the edges of the experience, but he was close to something new, something to be discovered, and that brought elation.
The other two seemed to feel it too; Neasa and Malatic were rebounding with their resiliency. Sickness, treachery, and abandonment didn’t seem to have the same sticky hold it had had for so many days.
They got an early start that morning and walked north. They talked about easy things: Neasa’s favorite Valia finds and Malatic’s foolish escapades. Eloy basked in the lightness of their voices, free, for just a moment, of everything else.
“There.” Neasa grabbed her companions by their arms, stopping them. “See that?” She pointed directly ahead.
Eloy didn’t at first. Then the light flashed again, fifty or so strides away.
“What is it?” Malatic asked.
“I can’t tell,” Eloy said. “It just looks like light and forest. Let’s keep going.”
Neasa didn’t follow. “We should have our weapons ready.”
Eloy looked back at her and nodded. “You’re right.” He reached over his shoulder and found the hilt of his sword. He knew she was right to be ready to fight, but his curiosity consumed all the space in him. He held the sword at his side, the blade low, and moved on.
He forgot about the blade, and the reason for it being in his hand, more and more with each step he took. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
It didn’t look like much at first, just more forest. But when they were through the leaves, panes of wavy glass intersected with carefully carved planks of wood, making a translucent house.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Malatic said, his weapon lax at his side too.
Neasa pointed to their right. “There’s an entryway there.”
“It’s so strange.” Eloy was already walking toward the doorway. “This didn’t get here by accident.”
“Someone could have made it a long time ago,” Malatic said, following close behind.
“If that’s true,” Neasa said, “this glass has held up really well.”
They walked through the doorway. Someone had to be here, still residing in this strange, remote house, building and maintaining in the middle of the forest. Rays of light streamed in through the space between the canopy leaves and cut through the slats of glass, landing on the clear pool of water in the center of the room, where colors from the light danced around in the ripples.
The room was a bouquet of forest plants, some of which Eloy had seen, eaten, and used over the course of their travels. Others were strange, fragrant, and beautiful. A red bloom as big as a shield swayed next to Eloy, its petals like the hem of the finest silk skirt as it caught the faint breeze. A black insect hummed around the yellow, pollen-dusted stalk at its center.
Neasa walked around the bounty. “This is all cultivated. Someone put these plants here.”
Eloy walked in behind her. “Hello?” he called out.
Inside, the sticky heat enveloped him. The air felt thicker in his chest.
They walked to the center of the room and stood at the edge of the clear pond. A ravine cut into the edge at the other side dribbled what Eloy assumed to be runoff from the collected condensation of the sweating glass walls.
“Maybe they’re shy,” Malatic said at Eloy’s side.
“Not shy,” a gruff voice said behind them. “Just cautious.”
The three spun around and faced the man now standing in the threshold ten strides away. Eloy had no idea how the large man had sneaked up behind them. He had long hair tied loosely at the back, mostly shades of grey and white, but with ribbons of chestnut brown holding on. Life had left its mark on the man’s face. Lines branched away from his eyes like a lightning strike. Eloy imagined that they folded deeply when he smiled. But he wasn’t smiling now.
Eloy stepped forward, leaned his sword against a tree, and held his hands out in front of him. “We’re not a threat.”
Eloy didn’t think the man was a danger, but he knew Malatic and Neasa could move in his defense. The man ran a scarred, meaty hand through his thick beard. Eloy knew well enough that age didn’t render a man harmless. This man was made of strength and survival. His looming presence in this intricate construction in the middle of a deserted and strange land was testament to that.
The man stepped over the threshold. “Not really a thing a man can say on his own behalf, is it?” His voice rumbled out like the grating of a pestle in a mortar, coarse from age and lack of use.
“I suppose not,” Eloy said. “But let me prove it.”
“You already have,” the man said. “I’ve been watching you for a while. Even if I hadn’t sensed a change in the forest, only a fool would’ve missed the screaming.”
Eloy sensed Malatic shift behind him. “You were next to the river that night.”
“I was.”
“Why didn’t you come out?” Neasa asked.
“That sets a tone, sneaking up on a group in the dark with one of them lame.”
“I’m not lame,” Malatic grumbled.
“So you’re not. You look better.”
“What is this place?” Neasa asked.
“Well.” The man puffed up his chest. “I’ve been here a while now and I got tired of collecting what I needed. It’s a bit more controlled this way. Easier. Gives me somet
hing to do too, I guess. Something to focus on.”
“And how did you get here?” Eloy asked.
“Sailed here, long ago. Things went bad pretty quick. My crew was ambushed close to the coast.”
“You were on the Merrow,” Eloy said. He recalled the image made in tiny lights, and the man who had fought the creatures that lurked in the forest. He didn’t think the man could still be alive.
“I was.”
“We came here with a crew from Oppo looking to find out what had happened,” Eloy said. “But they left.”
“Lucky them,” the man said. “I assumed that if you had companions they were all dead. If they didn’t make it to the other side of the canyon, the eels would have gotten them.”
“Two of them did die,” Malatic said.
The man didn’t look surprised. “I managed to save two others from the Merrow and got them into the canyon after the ambush. They didn’t make it past the eels. Killed each other. I can’t even remember what the eels said. The things get in your mind. But I don’t need to tell you that. Says a lot that you three are still standing together.”
“We’ve been through a lot. It would take more than those eels to change that,” Eloy said.
“Just getting this far in says that.” The man patted his stomach. “Well, given this is my home, it would be rude to not offer you some food. I haven’t ever had guests, as you can imagine, but I’ll do my best.”
“That’s kind of you,” Eloy said. “I’m going to reach for my sword and put it away. No threat.” He reached for his sword in the mess of leaves. The motion was fluid, relaxed, and familiar, bringing the sword in front of his face to go over his head and into its sheath.
The man grabbed Eloy by the wrist, the bones straining painfully in his grip. It happened so fast Eloy didn’t even have the wherewithal to tense against it, like getting a sucker punch to the stomach.
The once apathetic sheen in the man’s crystal blue eyes was gone, nothing but rage and confusion in its place. He looked at the handle of the sword, then reached his other hand up and flipped the piece of metal, like an eyelid opening, to reveal the blue stone underneath.
“Don’t move!” Eloy called to Malatic and Neasa.
He felt them closing in, fast, ready to do whatever was necessary to get Eloy free.
The rage was still in the man’s eyes, but there was water in them now too. “What did you do?” he managed to say.
“Timyr?” Eloy asked.
“What did you do?” Timyr yelled, his grip crushing Eloy’s wrist tighter.
Eloy tried to keep any sign of pain out of his voice, instead focusing on the calm he wanted to bring to the situation. “I didn’t do what you think. This sword was a gift to me from your brother, Midash.”
Timyr looked stunned, let go of Eloy, and backed away. “You’re lying. There’s no way.”
Eloy put the sword on the ground between them and held his hands up again, aware of the new sting in his wrist. “I’ll walk back to the eels if it’ll help convince you. I met your brother and mother years ago. They took me and my friend in. We stayed with them for a long time. I love them. I would never do anything to hurt them.”
“My father?” Timyr asked, his quickened breath starting to slow.
Eloy shook his head.
Timyr sniffed. “No. Of course not. But my mother?”
“It was a while ago, but she was well. She didn’t move around much, but her spirit was there in full force.”
Timyr smirked, the whiskers moving around his mouth. “My father made those swords for Midash and me. There were more than a few times I wished I’d taken it with me.”
“You can take it now,” Eloy said.
He smiled fully now. “That one is Midash’s.”
“Yours was the green stone, then. That one is with a man who is like a brother to me. I don’t think it’s getting much use now.”
“Good.” Timyr picked up the sword and turned it over in his hands. “It’s really something. My dad had a way with metal.” He handed it back to Eloy.
Eloy took the sword and put it away. “He did.”
“I have a lot of questions,” Timyr said.
“I think we all do.”
38
“How are they?” Timyr asked.
The four were sitting around a fire pit at the back of the glass house. The area was open, but cordoned off from the untamed forest by stacked stones. Timyr made a bounty of roasted tuber vegetables and strange, flavorful meats. They knew better than to ask exactly what the meat was, at this point in their travels.
Eloy swallowed a bite of food. “They’re good. They miss you.”
Timyr looked into the fire without blinking, lost in a memory. “I want to say I shouldn’t have left. I mean, I shouldn’t have, but that’s just not who I was then. I will say I shouldn’t have left the way I did. There was so much anger. I never understood why staying was such a big deal.”
“There wasn’t any anger in them when I knew them. Midash only took us to your dad’s workplace for the swords. He could barely walk inside to do that. The building was falling in on itself.”
“That’s too bad,” Timyr said. “There were good memories in there. I learned a lot. The past is what it is, I guess. Can’t change it now. It’s funny, though, having a mother and brother who can get into your head and yet we still couldn’t understand each other.”
“Just seems strange,” Malatic said.
“Which part?” Timyr asked with a chesty laugh.
“Why would two people who traveled with Aerelion, doing all of the things the stories say, not want their own son to go off and have his own adventures?” Malatic said.
“Not all the stories are true,” Timyr said. “And from what I know, those that have truth are pretty different from what actually happened. And that’s just from what my mom let me see in her memories. Not everything they did was meant for their children to see.
“The funny thing is, I heard more about what they did after I left than I did when I was with them. My parents didn’t talk about it. I can’t see in minds like my mom or Midash, but I can see spots in people, like bruises on fruit, where the dark things have stayed. All three of you have spots. My parents had theirs. After I left, I made my own.
“That’s why they didn’t want me to leave. That’s why they fought me. They thought they had spots enough for the four of us. But that’s the irony. I couldn’t have known that without living what they’d already learned.”
“How are you not totally out of your mind out here?” Malatic asked.
Neasa elbowed him in the side. “Mal!”
“I don’t mean to be rude,” Matalic said, “but you’ve been out here for so many years, totally alone. Yet you invited us in like the head of town. How have you done it?”
Timyr laughed. “I’m not so sure I have. I’m not even totally sure this is happening. It doesn’t feel like it is. There are a lot of things about this forest that play tricks on you. Sometimes I go down to the bog and listen to the eels speak my thoughts, just to hear words coming out of someone else’s mouth. So maybe I have lost it out here. After a while, you just have to come to terms with how things are and do what you can with it. You’ll see.”
Timyr didn’t mean to say anything hurtful. But Eloy, Malatic, and Neasa were still avoiding the truth of their situation. As long as there was a task ahead, Eloy didn’t have to imagine the abyss of time that awaited them, lost in this forest like Timyr.
“The seas are open now,” Neasa said, sounding more defensive than Eloy was sure she intended to. “It’s unlikely that it’ll take as long for another ship to come.”
“Well, that’s some good news,” Timyr said. “Which leads me to my next question: what are you three doing this far into the forest to begin with? Why not just stay to the beach and wait?”
Eloy didn’t hesitate as he reached up and pulled at the leather cord around his neck. The stone disc rotated below his hand, catching the light of the fire. “It’s Aerelion’s stone.”
Timyr squinted, the deep folds around his eyes crimping together, and his mouth barely parted in a slit, barely visible from behind his beard. “I sensed it. I thought, there’s no way, it’s my mind going. But there it is, green as the stone in my old sword. Can I hold it?”
Eloy took off the necklace and set the stone in Timyr’s outstretched hand.
Timyr closed his eyes and nodded, as if listening to someone telling him a story. “This isn’t a regular stone,” he said, finally, and held it back out.
Eloy took it, slipped the leather cord over his head, and tucked the stone back under his shirt. “It’s supposed to be a key to something. And I believe that something is at the black rock west of here.”
“I believe it,” Timyr said.
“You do?” Neasa asked. “Why?”
“Same sense about it. Same difference. Same whisper.”
“What do you mean?” Neasa asked, leaning forward.
“You know how I was saying my brother was like my mom? In that he can see into thoughts?”
Neasa nodded. “Eloy told us about Kella and what she showed him.”
“Okay, well,” Timyr said, “my dad had a different strength. He had a way with stone and metal. Could use it, change it, fix it. You name it, he could do it. Could divide stone like water. I’m more like my dad. Always had a penchant for glass, myself.” Timyr swept his arm, encompassing the house around them.
Neasa followed the motion and looked at the structure with a new appreciation. “What’s it like?”
“It’s hard to explain. Like describing color to someone who’s never seen it. But it’s kind of like how it is with people. You can see a person, notice the differences in their face: do they have a long nose? Big eyes? Black hair?
“You see them for the first time, but eventually you stop noticing those individual features so much. Eventually, you associate them with a certain feeling. It’s the getting to know them that makes them different in your mind. If you think back on a person, that’s what you’re thinking of: that feeling, not their features.