“That’s the ticket,” Kincade muttered, her emotions sparking with delight and excitement. I took a few steps back, tried unsuccessfully to tear my gaze away from the darkly lovely creature slowly crossing the forest floor toward me.
“What the hell is that thing?” I asked.
“Angry, I’d say.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
The creature paused and I noted the toes on her feet growing outward into the soil to take root while she stared at me. When frozen in place, only the needles of her hair looked alive, settling from being jostled as she'd moved. Kincade had started sidestepping around to her back, a hand slipping into the pocket of her puffy jacket.
“What are you doing? Oh god, don’t make it mad—madder,” I whispered, unable to make my voice carry. Kincade ignored me, choosing her steps carefully so as to not attract the creature’s attention. Taking the creature’s stillness as a sign from fate or the universe or President God Morgan Freeman, I took a few big steps back, my wrists jerking against the cuffs. My actions were mostly without my permission; I just wanted use of my arms to defend myself—or more likely to catch myself if I fell while running away screaming.
Kincade took one last step, producing a thin, gold chain from her pocket. She let the length of it drop to the ground, holding one end between her thumb and the second knuckle of her index finger. As her arm pulled back, the tree immediately to her right screamed. It was the sound of rage, the sound of mourning.
It was the sound of a rusty band saw and it shocked Kincade enough that she rolled defensively into the leaves, dropping her golden chain.
As the roots of the tree that was focused on me uncurled from within the earth and pulled back into proper toes again, she took another step, her resin eyes going completely clear. I yelped, tried to back up again. I only managed to keep from getting my own knuckles ground into my ass when I tripped and dropped backward, but it was a hollow victory. The lady tree was still pursuing me and the friend she’d called or teleported or just spontaneously created in the face of two stupid, human ladies was pulling free of her own paralysis.
She was shorter than the fir, bushier, with red and black moving along her trunk like a kid shaking a metal tray of marbles. As the branches that would become her arms twisted and thrashed, reaching for Kincade, I felt a pure menace shoot out of her. Kincade swore heavily, shoved her hands through the dead leaves and branches covering the forest floor. Her eyes darted rapidly between her moving hands and the swinging branches coming at her like the muscular arms of an angry body-builder. Swearing just before the second tree managed a swipe that would have hit her, she rolled out of the way.
“Do something!” I yelped, trying to figure out how to control my thudding heart and push myself to my feet to escape. My wrists were aching, possibly bleeding from the cuffs, and the tree approaching me did not seem distracted by the incredible, pure anger from the other tree creature behind her. She had her own outrage in her glimmering eyes and it was all for me.
“I am doing something,” Kincade sniped, dodging another swipe aimed for her face. The crack of leafy wood on bark brought my gaze to the other lady tree and I saw her stand tall, her own thighs wide and adorned with more crawling red and black. As I heard the decidedly unpleasant sound of hundreds of papery, flapping wings, Kincade turned her eyes to me. Jerking her brows up once, she shrugged a shoulder.
“Sorry, lover. Gotta go.”
“What?” I asked, sure I’d misheard her. Kincade turned on her heel and took off. The rippling red and black along the tree’s body suddenly lifted, clouding around it before taking off after Kincade. I realized that, unlike the tree focused on me, this one was covered in bugs.
“Oh god,” I yelped. “Oh g—” I cut off with a scream as the lady fir planted a foot firmly by my left shoe, bent over, and lifted me into the air by one leg. She held me high, her own branchy arm seeming to stretch to accommodate her desire to be eye level with my upside down face. I struggled as she tipped her head and looked into my eyes. I flailed my arms as the blood rushed to my head and the leg she wasn’t holding struggled to stay upward instead of falling forward to knee me in the chest. I just don’t have that much muscle control on a good day, let alone when getting beaten up by a tree.
I looked past her at the other creature, watched as she took slow, plodding steps after Kincade, who was long gone. This second tree, I noted, had a hollow back, as if she were just a shapely plate you snap over the front of the trunk to make it sexually attractive. Fear burbled through my throat in a laugh as I thought fondly of the Dolly Pops and their little snap on clothes that I had played with as a child.
The tree holding me tipped her head again, pulling me closer. I felt a tinge of confusion bleed into her psyche. I tried a smile.
“Please put me down?” I asked. She did not respond, barely seemed to understand me. The tree beyond her screamed again, more bugs lifting away from her to fly through the forest and disappear. I hoped, briefly, that Kincade would trip over a branch, break her leg, and fall face-first into a pile of poison oak. That would have been fair, I thought. Well, no, even that wouldn’t have been comparable to leaving me to get murdered by foliage, but the idea of it at least generated another nervous, bubbling laugh.
Abruptly, the grip on my leg disappeared and I plummeted.
“Gwen?” I heard a voice in the soup of my consciousness but it went away shortly after. I was dreaming about trees shaped like Playboy Bunnies and giant bug-men.
“Hellooo!” A jaunty voice sang into my brain, a hand touching my cheek. The lady tree in my dream served me tea, but there wasn’t enough sugar. I spat it out. She got angry and slapped me, the rough bark on her hand scraping my skin.
“We need to get her home,” the lady tree said. I frowned at her across the wide stump. The bug man approached from the left, did a little twirl.
“I got it!”
“Can you carry her?”
“Oh sure,” the bug man said, before leaning close. His wings spread away from his fat body and they were incredible, red and black with little eyeballs along the edges. The eyeballs were spinning madly, taking in every sight at once. As he leaned close to slide an arm under my back and another under my neck, all the eyeballs turned at once to focus on me. I whimpered.
Chapter Thirteen
“Gwen?”
I could hear crying.
“She’s waking up,” my father said. A loud crunch immediately to my left startled me into opening my eyes. I saw the ceiling of my brother’s room, the puffy face of my anxiety-ridden mother in my peripheral vision. Then, Izzy’s face slowly slid into view from the right, his nose nearly pressed to mine. He smelled like peppermint candies. When he poked a smooth, tiny orb against my closed lips, I realized it was because he was snacking on them.
I lifted a hand to shove at him, caught sight of dried blood on my wrist. Izzy smiled, ignoring my shove against his shoulder.
“What—” I croaked, wheezed over my own dry throat. “What happened?”
Izzy disappeared just as my mother let out a wail, threw herself against me. I felt my father’s annoyance at my feet, a jagged bolt of lightning in the misty cloud of worry from everyone else.
“My baby! What happened? Are you okay? Where did you go?”
“Gwen?” Chloe said. I swallowed, tried to pat my mother’s shoulder to ensure her I was alive and then turned my head. I found Chloe kneeling next to the bed, Natalie at her immediate left. Natalie gave me a small watery smile and I felt my eyes widen.
“Oh god,” I mumbled as it all came back to me. My father was standing at the foot of the bed, watching me with an unhappy expression on his dour face. I swallowed, looked once around the whole room, and tried to sit up. Chloe put a hand on Natalie's shoulder.
“Is she okay?”
“Her head is okay. I made it stop bleeding,” Natalie explained Robin’s breath hitched behind her and I squeezed my eyes shut. I had a hell of a headache but I couldn
't feel any actual wounds along my scalp. My wrists were sore, my body hurt like hell, and Izzy's peppermint breath was making me hungry and nauseated all at the same time.
“Okay,” I said. “I need some space. I'm okay.” My mother wailed again, tucked her arms under my body and hugged me to her. Izzy wisely pulled back, crunched into another solid mass of sugar. I gave my mother's back a light pat, tried not to absorb the sadness shoving out of her and into me like an invading army.
It took me a second before I realized that, compared to what it should have been, I could barely feel anything from anyone.
“Whoa,” I said, shoving at the bed with my palms.
“It's okay,” Chloe said, setting a hand on my arm. “Your father's got it handled.”
“He what?” I asked. I glanced down, blinked over my mother's shoulder as I noticed my father wasn't just standing idly by, disapproving of my injuries; he had a hand on my ankle. I couldn't feel much from him but from the look on his face, that was probably for the best. Our eyes stayed glued to one another's for a moment, before I swallowed my pride.
“Thanks, dad.” His mouth quirked up slightly at the side and his eyes flicked to my mother. I realized I hadn't answered her questions.
“Mom? I'm okay. I think,” I amended. As my mother sat up, pulled me up to lean against her, I fought a head rush. She patted my cheek, slid her hand to touch a tender part of my scalp just behind my ear. Wincing, I looked over to Chloe, raised my brows. The phantom pain of whatever had been tossed at me by Kincade flashed above my eye, bridging itself to the pain behind my ear. Before I could speak, Robin stepped forward, leaning down to pick Natalie up.
“What happened to you?”
“She fell out of a tree,” Natalie announced. My eyes went straight to her; next to me, Izzy giggled.
“You fell out of a tree?” Robin said, cynicism dripping.
“Uh,” I grunted. Chloe gave me a nod so small I wasn't sure I even saw it. I decided to go with it, bobbed my head forward. It made sense that Natalie would think that, considering what had attacked me.
“And the blood on your wrists?” Robin asked, her voice slightly hollow.
I moved my gaze to Natalie, waiting to see what she'd seen for that. She didn't speak but her bottom lip started to quiver. It only took a second but soon she was bawling, fat tears sliding down her face as Robin, startled, holding her close
“What's wrong, sweetie?” Robin asked, fighting tears of her own.
“I can't help her anymore,” Natalie wheezed out through sobs. “I tried, but I can't do anything else.”
“Oh, baby,” my mother said. “It's okay, she'll be fine.” Mom reached a hand out toward Natalie, but Robin didn’t close in. Curious, I lifted my hands, inspected my wrists. The skin was still raw, scabbed over. She hadn't been able to heal that, which made me wonder if her healing powers were very limited or if my head had been so bad that she'd exhausted everything she had making sure I didn't die from brain trauma.
“I don't remember,” I lied. My mother just switched tactics, twisted to pull me into a hug. “I'm still pretty fuzzy on the whole tree thing.”
“Next time you need to be alone,” Chloe said, pitching her voice as if she was trying to make a joke but failing to get it right. I couldn’t feel what she was feeling, thanks to my father sucking my emotions and, apparently those around me, right out of my brain. I recognized her tactic, though. I was sure my father did, too, but everyone else seemed convinced. “Stay out of the forest.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”
“We should take her to a hospital,” Robin announced, rubbing Nat’s back. I wondered briefly where the rest of the family was, but figured maybe Thom and Jake were keeping the kids busy while everyone else fussed over me. “If she’s having memory trouble, it might be something more serious than we thought. Natalie can’t be expected to know. She’s too young.”
“No,” my father said abruptly. He shifted, shook his head when mom took a breath to speak. “She’s fine. It’s actually common to have memory issues if you’re supernaturally healed of a head wound.”
“Really?” mom asked, relief in her voice. Izzy crunched loudly on another candy, pushed to his feet on the bed, and walked over my legs to drop to the floor. “You really believe she’s okay?”
“I wouldn’t put her in danger, Cora. Trust me.” He eyed me for a second and I felt myself shrink back a little. Suddenly the memory of every moment that I’d been untruthful to my father came rushing back to me. Had he known every time that I was lying?
Shit.
“Sweetie, do you need anything? Are you hungry? Do you want a snack, or a bath?”
“I don’t think I’m hungry—” Robin let out a shaky laugh and interrupted me.
“Maybe she should take her to the hospital.”
“But,” I snapped. “I could use a shower. I don’t know how long I was out there but I think I have leaves in—uh. Well, places they shouldn’t be.”
Next to me, Chloe chuckled, pushed to her feet. “We’ll give you some time alone.”
“Everyone out,” my dad said. Chloe glanced at him and then back at me. Her expression said something that I couldn’t read and she seemed to sense my cluelessness. On a sigh, she gave me one last disapproving look and then left, taking Natalie with her. Robin stepped forward to give me a hug and kiss the top of my head. Mom gave me one last giant hug and then headed out. I stared at the closed door as if I could just delude myself into believing I wasn’t about to be in heaps of trouble.
Letting me pretend, at least for the moment, that he wasn’t there, my father took his hand off my ankle, moved to sit next to me on the bed. I let out a defeated sigh. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my shins, turned to look at him.
He watched me for a moment and then chuckled. My empathy eased back in slowly and I felt something like an echo of the amusement in my father.
“Why can I feel what you’re feeling?” I asked. “I’ve met a few other empaths and I can never read them. I assumed it was a trick of the power, to keep us from falling into some endless loop of emotions.”
“Never been good at shielding,” dad said with a shrug. “I’m assuming you’re the same. You practically scream your every feeling.”
“Well, that’s your fault. You should’ve passed on better genetics.” I felt a stab of disapproval spike toward me on a wave of worry, but he didn’t take the bait.
“What happened?”
“I …” Trailing off, I lowered my forehead to my knees. I could smell dirt on my clothes. “I was attacked by a giant tree creature.”
Dad was silent. He knew I was telling the truth; that was a given. But him believing me? I couldn’t count on that. It took about thirty seconds for me to get up the courage to look up and meet his eyes. He was smiling, lips closed tight as if he was trying to stop himself from cracking up.
“What?” I asked. He shook his head.
“Tree monster?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling defensive. My spine went a little straighter and I pressed on through clenched teeth. “It looked like a pretty sexy lady, in case you’re curious.”
“Gwen—” dad started, turning away from me slightly. I jumped in, unwilling to listen to a lecture when I’d just told him exactly the truth.
“Don’t start calling me a liar—or crazy or telling me I’m seeing things. I was in the forest, and one of the trees just mutated into a woman … shaped-thing and attacked me. She picked me up by the leg and then dropped me when I laughed at her. That’s the truth, I swear.”
“I believe you,” he said quietly. “No need to get worked up.”
“Why aren’t you more worked up? I was attacked by an Ent, for chrissakes.”
“Not an Ent,” dad corrected, patting my foot. I was confused at how calm he was being; usually by this point in a conversation, at least one insult had been hurled and we’d both gone hoarse from yelling.
“It’s called a Lofrisk
a. They are basically tree monsters but it’s not that simple.”
“And how do you know about them?”
“Ah,” dad said, apparently not expecting that question. I felt a bit of embarrassment puff out of him and my eyes narrowed. I suddenly wasn’t sure I wanted an answer. “When I was younger, I was a big hiker. I used to spend a lot of time in the woods. Lofriska are generally pretty kind to humans, though not if they’re crossed. One appeared to me.”
His entire body language shifted as he pushed against the bed, moved subtly away from me.
“If you demonstrate a respect for their environment, for their kind, they reward you.” I thought of the gold coin we’d gotten off Samuel. My brows shot up.
“It gave you gold?”
Shock arced out of my dad, but the embarrassment from earlier wasn’t entirely gone.
“Among other things.”
“Do I want to know the other things?” he watched me with pursed lips and I wondered for a second if he was going to pick a fight just to avoid the conversation. There was something in his brain he wasn’t comfortable telling me, despite the fact that it seemed relevant.
“I don’t want to tell you the other things, I know that.”
“Then we’ll stop there. As far as I’m concerned, you were given gold and that was the end of it.
“They don’t just hand you gold. They’re not just mystical ATMs. They provide, ah.” He cleared his throat. “Aid, friendship, occasionally, uh, you could call it companionship—”
“Okay!” I nodded. “Got it.”
“To lonely travelers,” he spat out, moving on as quickly as he could. “And, like I said, reward those who show respect for the land. They’re part of the forest. It’s their home, but it’s also their livelihood. If the forest dies, so do they. If you’re good to them, they give you sticks and twigs, rocks, moss, something. If you cherish it enough to bring it home, it turns to gold.”
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