8: A gripping dark fantasy mystery

by Georgina Bartlett

  “Now yuh cross de barrier, if yuh can,” she said. Her grey hair appeared silver in the purple hue.

  Madame Arbre took Steven’s hand and led the way to the severed tree behind them. “Yuh must place a hand on de stump and repeat after me – ‘Revelet deus absconsa. Vide cor meum tenebrae et tu videbis si est.’” She took a step forward and placed her hand down.

  “Oh, great. What does it mean?” Amour asked.

  “Reveal your secrets. Look into my heart. You will see if there is darkness,” Mort answered before Madame Arbre could. “Sorry, I like to read Latin.” She smiled.

  “Oh, I like dis one,” Madame Arbre grinned to Steven. She winked at Mort.

  “So this tree is all knowing, but it can’t understand English,” Amour taunted as he cleaned a section of the stump before thumping his hand down.

  “Tis all about respect, which yuh could use some more of,” Madame Arbre nagged.

  Mort put her hand on the tree and shoved Amour with her shoulder.

  “Quit it,”

  “You quit it. What’s your problem?” Mort asked.

  “Both of you quit it or I’ll become your problem,” Forrest intervened and placed his hand down next to them. Madame Arbre met his eye and he nodded.

  In unison they spoke. “Revelet deus absconsa. Vide cor meum tenebrae et tu videbis si est.” As they finished, a crunch came from behind them. Forrest glanced around to try and spot what had caused it and saw that a row of trees now surrounded them in a circle. Each tree was covered in thick vines, causing an embossed effect on the bark.

  “Don’t worry boy,” Madame Arbre said, her eyes closed. “Dey won’t attack unless we give dem reason to.”

  “What won’t attack?” Amour asked and whipped his head round with Mort joining him.

  Vines broke away from the trees, stretching. They planted themselves on the ground. For a moment it looked as though the trees were growing extra limbs to drag themselves across the forest floor. But as more ripped away from the bark, the limbs shaped themselves and began to resemble the structure of large cats, woven together with creeper twigs, moss and dirt.

  “Do not take yuh hand away from de stump,” Madame Arbre hissed, while the siblings focused on the creatures behind them.

  Growls arose from the circle, like those from a pride of lions fighting over a carcass as the wooden felines stalked around the stump. One of the vine wildcats came forward and dragged its claws through the dirt near Amour’s feet, its tail whipping through the air as if it was playing cat and mouse.

  “Holy crap! This thing is trying to get me!” he yelled and pulled his feet up to the stump, practically sitting on it.

  “Calm down,” Forrest snapped, covering Amour’s hand with his free arm. “Don’t take your hand off the stump unless you want to be his chew toy.” He angled his head at the creature.

  Smoke started to seep out of the roots from the trunk, gathering around them all like a tornado made from clouds. Lighting began to strike different parts of the violently rotating column of fog, trapping them in the eye of an electrical storm.

  “Is this normal?” Forrest asked as his eyes turned dark green.

  “No. Something is wrong,” Madame Arbre worried. “Whatever yuh do, don’t let go of de stump!” she yelled as electrical volts began to shoot from the tornado and hit the siblings.

  “What do we do?” Mort screamed as another electrical arm from the smoke grabbed her.

  “Just hold on”!” Forrest yelled.

  The sky could no longer be seen from the top of the tornado as the edges clapped together and formed a tidal wave. The white from the wave reflected in Forrest’s eyes as it collapsed inwards and consumed them.

  Fifteen

  A clang from the kitchen brought her out of her sleep. Justine lay in her bed, the sun bleeding in through the partially open curtains. It reminded her of how much she’d had to drink last night. Her forehead throbbed, and gingerly she sat forward. She glanced around the room. The pile of clothes she’d left by her bed wasn’t there anymore, and her duvet had been stripped. Gently throwing the cover off, she got out of bed and stretched. She caught herself in the mirror and found she was wearing her sushi button up pyjama top with shorts. She hadn’t worn these for months, rather, usually falling asleep in her underwear or whatever she had been wearing in the day.

  Justine couldn’t remember everything from last night. There were a few hazy moments that included who was in her kitchen. Taking a paddle brush off her draws, she crept to the door and peeked out.

  “Oh, finally awake,” Jason mocked, seeing Justine peek through the door.

  “Jason?” she blurted, and came all the way out, throwing her brush back on her bed. “What, er, what are you doing here?” she asked and ran her hand through her messy brown hair.

  “I wanted to come and make sure you were ok. I heard about Ronnie,” he said, met with contempt in Justine’s eyes.

  “Who told you?”

  “Rick came to the stables. He said that Ronnie had mentioned we were friends, and that he was worried about you.”

  “Please, stop doing that,” Justine growled, her hand out as if to steady herself.

  “Doing what?”

  “Saying her name,” she cradled her forehead in her hand.

  “Yeah, of course. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to...” Jason started but stopped as he met Justine’s glare. “Do you need some aspirin for your head?”

  “No I’m fine.”

  “You don’t seem fine,” he hesitated as two pieces of toast popped up from the toaster.

  “Well, I am.”

  “You weren’t fine last night. I found you lying on the balcony in your underwear in the middle of a storm, soaked to the bone. Do you even remember that?”

  “Yes, I do,” she rasped as her eyes danced around the room. “Did – did you undress me?” she asked and pulled at her shirt.

  “I had to. Your lips were blue. I didn’t see anything. The lights were still out, and I’m a gentleman.”

  “Yeah, you’re a saint. Look, thanks for everything, but I need you to go.”

  “I can’t, Justine. You were about to contract pneumonia before I turned up last night. You were crying and said it was all your fault that Ronnie died.”

  “I told you. Don’t say her name! I was drunk last night, ok? I didn’t mean what I was saying. I was just upset.”

  “I’m worried about you. And I don’t know why I heard about what happened through Rick and not you.”

  “Because I’m fine, and you didn’t even know her.”

  “Justine, you’re not fine, and I met Ro-” Jason stopped when Justine threw her hands up. “I met her several times. She came riding with you for almost a year.”

  “What is this?” she asked and threw her arms around the apartment like she was trying to swim.

  “What?”

  “You. Here. Now. You come in the middle of the night, you undress me, and put me to bed. You clean my house and do my laundry. What is this?” Justine barked and looked at the sofa. All the takeaway boxes and bottles of wine were gone, and it looked like Jason had hoovered.

  “I’m your friend. I’m here to help you.”

  “You’ve been here once, Jason. I see you for five minutes once a week for an awkward conversation. We aren’t friends.”

  “Don’t,” Jason objected and stepped away from the kitchen counter. “Don’t take this out on me. Of course we’re friends. I’ve told you things I’ve never told another person.”

  “That was a lifetime ago,” she fumed and walked to the sink to get a glass of water.

  “Lifetime ago?” he watched her pass him and fill up a glass that was sat near the sink. “We’re here, in this lifetime, now.”

  “And Ronnie isn’t,” Justine yelled and threw her glass into the sink smashing it. “She isn’t here anymore!” She spun to face him. “She will never smile, brush her hair, plan her day, or cry ever again. And I never loved her the way I should have.
I never loved her because…” Justine stopped, covered her lips with her hand and began to sob.

  “Because of what?”

  “Because of you,” she cried. “Because I chose you over her, but you never chose me.”

  “Justine, I-” Jason moved towards her.

  “No!” she yelled and walked back towards the couch. “Is it too much to ask for honesty, to ask for someone to pick me? I used to ask myself that constantly: why won’t he pick me? All the time, I was blind to the fact that she chose me. Ronnie chose me!” She slammed her hands into her chest. “She chose me time and time again, and I just turned away because I was stupid, because I had the ridiculous idea that maybe, just maybe, you would choose me,” She confessed as she shook her head and hugged her arms around herself.

  Slowly Jason moved forward until he was standing in front of Justine. He tried to lay a hand on her arm, but she flinched out of his touch.

  “You never said anything,” he told her and lifted her chin. Her eyes were full of tears. “You never said how you felt.”

  “I did everything but throw myself at you,” a tear streamed down her face. Jason wiped it away with his other hand before he cupped her face.

  Staring into each other’s eyes he leaned in, close enough for her to feel his breath. Her bottom lip wobbled, and she filled the distance between them, their lips finding each other. Jason’s hands ran down her arms and she started to unbutton his shirt, their breathing heavy. He pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and it hit the floor. She ran her hands over his chest. Jason found the buttons on Justine’s night shirt, opening it from the bottom. She moaned as his hands grazed her breasts near the top button, but the touch had also sobered her to what was happening. Stepping back, she grabbed her shirt and held it together.

  “Justine, I’m sorry if-” he started, but Justine slapped him across the face.

  “You need to leave. Now,” she trembled and looked away from him, her hands wrapped around herself. Jason took a step back and grabbed his shirt, walking to the door and leaving before he put it back on.

  Justine watched as the door closed. Once alone, she traced a finger over her lips and began to cry.

  Sixteen

  “He’s waking up,” Doc sighed with relief.

  Forrest twitched his eyes open. “What happened?” he asked, his limbs heavy.

  “You came through the portal to the tree with a bumpy ride.”

  Forrest blinked away the haze that sat on his vision, the sky above him was coloured purple with silver stars twinkling across the sky’s canvas. As he sat up, he saw it, a tree the size of a mountain. It was like seeing a great white shark in the water with you, pure amazement followed by overwhelming terror. Its leaves were different colours of the rainbow, their veins and venation glistening silver like the sky. A patch of green grass led to the entrance of the goliath tree, and either side of it were emerald, green rivers with silver and gold fish swimming around.

  “Where are we?” Forrest asked, a shake to his voice. “And what are you doing here?” His hand stung as he pushed away from Doc and tried to stand.

  “Take it easy,” Doc warned and tried to help him. “This is the Atheneum tree. Madame Arbre came through the portal with you all, but you were unconscious from the tornado that threw you out. She travelled back through to grab me so I could help.”

  “Well, I’m fine.” Forrest shook Doc from his arm as he stumbled, before finally finding his balance. “Where are Mort and Amour?”

  “Dey are over ere child.” Madame Arbre stood over the two of them.

  “Are they ok? What the hell happened?” Forrest growled as he stumbled over to them. Steven was dabbing their heads with wet towels, paying close attention to Mort.

  “They will be ok. They haven’t been like this long. We only just came through,” Doc answered.

  “As for what happened, I am not sure. De tree used de electrical cloud as a defence mechanism,” Madame Arbre speculated.

  “Defence against what?” Forrest said, splaying his arms out.

  “I don’t know. But something tells me it has to do wid dat,” she said, and pointed to the mark on his hand.

  He looked to his siblings who each had the same mark, two halves of a circle not touching, separated by a dash. Forrest touched it and hissed. His skin was still raw from the damage.

  “Why is it not healing?” Forrest asked. “There aren’t many weapons that can pierce my skin, and if they do, it heals instantly.”

  “Dere is only one ting dat could cause dis kind of mark and leave it on someone with yuh power,” Madame Arbre remarked, her voice low and her eyes wide as she stared at the mark.

  “What?” Doc asked.

  “Dark magic,” she answered and held onto the amulet around her neck while she whispered a prayer.

  “Warlocks and Witches haven’t been seen in Tincture for centuries,” Forrest fumed.

  “Dat’s where yuh wrong child. Dey are here. We ave always been here.”

  “What did you just say?” Forrest rasped, his eyes dark. He threw out his palms and waited for his power to come, but his hands were left empty.

  “Yuh cannot use yuh power here, and neither can I, unless de Atheneum tree gives it to us to defend it,” Madame Arbre said with a grin.

  “Witches and Warlocks are pure evil. They can’t be trusted,” Forrest seethed and looked to Amour and Mort that laid near her.

  “I tink yuh know dat is not true young man, if it were, would yuh still be alive?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Dere ave been some awful magic folk who ave done terrible tings. But dere are dose of us who believe in de good side of magic. De kind of magic dat made yuh.”

  “We were not made from magic. Stop spreading lies,” Forrest spat out through gritted teeth, his fists clenched by his sides

  “Oh no? Den how do yuh tink yuh managed to get yuh abilities? Yuh were just born different? Every man, woman and child in Tincture is born wid an ability, but dere has never been anyone who was born wid de power yuh and your siblings hold. And dere hasn’t been since – well once, but dey were lost.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Forrest hissed.

  “Now, why yuh upset? Is it such a bad ting?” Madame Arbre asked him. Forrest turned away from her to look at the colossal tree.

  “My whole life I have been told how worthless and disgusting I am by the king for being different. I have caused so much death just by existing. But every time he told me I was an abomination, I would hold my head high, and keep believing that we were special for a reason.” He took a deep breath. “In all of our histories, Witches and Warlocks have done nothing but cause wars, spread hate, and invite death. They are the ultimate evil.” He stopped and turned to face her. “And now you’re telling me that all those times when I held my head high and believed in us…he was right? We are abominations made from dark magic?” His bottom lip wobbled.

  Amour and Mort sat up as they listened to the two of them talking, unseen by either. Doc held a finger to his lips when he saw the burrow on their brows and sat with them while Madame Arbre and Forrest continued talking.

  “Child, all of dat history and all of dose lies dat you have been fed are just one side of a very long story. De problem with history is when one side wins, dey get to tell de world deir side of what happened,” Madame Arbre said and walked towards him with her cane in her hand. “Yuh cannot pinpoint one type of magic. Tis in de air we breathe and de ground we walk on, how else could yuh explain dis beautiful world?” She cupped his face and gazed into his eyes. “De magic you are made from is old, strong and pure. Yuh are made of good magic, and de only ting I need to know dat is right here.” She laid her hand on his chest. “Yuh are de heart of yuh family, and it carries yuh all. I ave never known someone so good. So don’t be crying to me dat you are evil or an abomination – child, you are magical.”

  He placed his hands over hers and closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he choked, and wiped his face from a single tear.

 
“She’s right,” Amour said as he wobbled to stand. “You are the heart of this family.” He walked to his brother and threw his arms around him. Doc helped Mort up and she skipped over to her brothers to join in with the hug.

  “Just a quick question.” Amour patted Forrest on the back and looked around. “Are we dead? Because I’m pretty sure this is heaven.”

  “It is incredible. What kind of tree is this?” Mort asked as she swallowed, and took in the view of the huge tree.

  “Tis de Atheneum tree. A giant sequoia. De first to ever be created. Tis also known as de Elder tree,” Madame Arbre told them, her grey curls bouncing around her cheeks. “Would yuh all like to join me inside?” she asked and led the way to the entrance.

  As they got closer to the tree, it became more and more like a wall made of wood, reaching up so high into the purple sky that they couldn’t see the leaves or branches anymore. Stood in a line, they all watched as Madame Arbre stepped forward and disappeared into the tree.

  “Where-what-how did she do that?” Amour asked as his jaw hit the floor.

  “I don’t know,” Doc laughed and took a step closer, jumping back as Madame Arbre’s head popped out of the bark.

  “Are yuh coming?” she chuckled before she vanished again.

  Doc and Amour walked together to the tree while Mort and Forrest watched in amusement. Doc stretched his unbandaged hand forward and observed as it went through the trunk, moving it around before he stepped in fully.

  “Look at this thing,” Mort said. “I’d have to run a mile in either direction just to touch the sides. We must look like bugs stood next to it.” She glanced upwards and found only more tree.

  “It is very intimidating,” Forrest quipped. With a side glance he checked out his bulky arms next to the behemoth sequoia and felt small.

  “Hey! You dorks coming or what?” Amour asked and ran into the tree at full speed with his eyes closed.

  “You think he took someone out or just himself?” Mort asked as they walked forward.

  “Hopefully just himself. But he does create a lot of damage wherever he goes.” Forrest laughed and draped an arm over his sister’s shoulders. “After you.” He held out his hand once he reached the tree.