All three children hung suspended from the vine several hundred feet off the ground. They inched down little by little, peering occasionally over to the trunk where more and more demons climbed the stairs and journeyed up their own vines, though theirs were closer to the trunk. Even those manning the bunkers on the ground seemed unable to resist the curious thrill of investigating the uproar and what action might await them as they scurried over to the base of the tree and began to climb it.
When Connor reached the bottom of the tethered vines, Maggie and Lucy halted just above him. They remained perched there waiting for the platoons to journey past. As the Shadow Army climbed the circular staircase, many holding torches in one hand and their weapons in the other, none bothered to look out into the nearby darkness where the children were suspended. You might think it was a curious thing for a hiding place to be out in the open and leave them completely exposed. But just as Connor had suspected, not only had all the demons abandoned their posts to investigate the uproar, they were all too distracted to consider looking out where the children hung. Even the demons pulling themselves up other vines didn’t notice the children’s own vine hanging farther out away from the trunk. Their rage and passion to spill blood blinded them from seeing the obvious.
And so in an odd twist of fate, the children’s clash with those sleeping demons had actually worked to their advantage. The bottom of the tree and the ground around it was now completely abandoned.
When the time was right and it appeared every demon had gone past, Connor looked up and whispered, “Okay, we need to swing this vine over to the stairs.”
“Oh, sure,” Lucy yelled. “Piece of cake!”
“What other option do we have?” Connor asked. “You want to hang here forever?”
“I can’t believe I let you talk us into this,” Lucy said.
“It’s working, isn’t it? They’re all up there now!”
“Shh!” Maggie shushed them. “Quiet, you two, or they’ll hear us.”
“Just start swaying on three,” Connor said. “When we get enough momentum, I’ll leap over. Maggie, you shimmy down to the bottom where I was after that and do the same on the next swing, then Lucy. Okay, here we go…one, two, three…”
The children swung their momentum back, then forward, back, forward, back, forward, like they were pumping on a swing. Slowly, they gained enough power that they were vacillating back and forth by twenty feet, then thirty, then more. They were only ten feet from the trunk when Connor let go and flew through the air, landing with a thud on the staircase. It was a rough landing but he was safe.
He turned around and watched the girls swing out away from him. They swung so far out he lost sight of them in the darkness. But they reappeared a second later. Maggie had slid down to the bottom of the vine. When she reached the crest of the swing, she flung herself toward the trunk. Connor broke her fall by catching her. When they had gathered themselves, they watched as Lucy swung back out and then returned, headed straight for them. When the vine swung near, she shook her head and didn’t let go.
“C’mon, Lu!” Connor said, clenching his jaw as she swung into the darkness again.
“She’ll lose the momentum she needs to make it,” Maggie cried. “She has to jump!”
Lucy came back a moment later, her arms trembling. As she came barreling toward them, Connor said, “Dad needs you, Lucy!” She let go of the vine and flung her body at the trunk.
She didn’t have the velocity she needed to reach the stairs. She was going to fall short!
Connor reached out and grabbed her outstretched arms. Her weight began to pull him down, but Maggie grabbed Connor’s other arm and yanked them back to safety. They collapsed on top of one another, breathing heavy.
“See, Goose,” Connor said. “I knew you could do it.”
She smacked him on the chest and then hugged his neck and kissed him on the cheek. He chuckled. “Okay, no time for that. Let’s go!”
They sprang to their feet and raced down the stairs, circling the trunk at a much faster speed than they had before. The sound of the hooting and yelling above them began to fade. They were nearly upon the ground when the staircase led them back inside the trunk to a large, open room. It appeared to be a kind of temple, with intricate carvings on the inner walls and seven stone paths that zigzagged their way to a circle of torches in the center. The torches encircled a tall, wooden snake coiled upon itself. Its diamond head was tilted up and its mouth stretched open, revealing a pair of long fangs that gripped a large seed.
“There!” Maggie said, pointing across the room. An opening led down into the ground, bordered on either side by two smaller carvings of snakes. They raced across the room and peered into the hole.
More stairs.
They glanced at each other, willing courage into the other, before jumping into the hole and journeying beneath the mud.
28
RADICLE
The children felt like they were descending into the gallows of a castle dungeon as they raced past the flaming torches hanging on the walls. Deeper and deeper they plunged into the recesses of the island. A cold dampness and a stillness hovered over them that contradicted the chaotic last hour. Connor led the way with his sword out; Maggie followed with an arrow loaded and Lucy with two knives in her hands.
They had no idea what awaited them. What would Radicle look like? Would he have features? A face? A mouth? Would they be able to pick him out among the many other roots they were sure to encounter? Would Radicle know they were coming? Perhaps you have also begun to wonder about these things.
The children could see the end of the staircase up ahead. It appeared to open into a large chamber, and this was just what they discovered when they reached the threshold. It was like a cavern in a mountain, except instead of stone it was encased in dried mud. Cast-iron cages where fires roared with life hung on the walls and gave off the glow they had seen from the stairwell. It was in this glow that they were able to see hundreds and hundreds of roots clinging to the upper crust of the hollow chamber, extending into an elaborate network of smaller roots breaking off from larger ones. They looked like veins, or like a swell of tributaries stemming from larger rivers. Taking in the entire network of roots made it look more like dried skin—snakeskin—layering the mud.
This “skin” curved down from the ceiling and covered most of the walls as well, but these particular roots were clearly not the ones that could grow across the island and burst forth from the ground many miles away. They were too small for that, each only about the width of the children and extending a few hundred feet.
It was in the center of the chamber that they saw the strength and power of the Shadow Tree. It could best be described as a giant ball of snakes coiled together, as if tangled up in a pit. A thick horde of the cluster rose straight up, disappearing into the roof. These were presumably bonded to the trunk up on the surface. But several dozen roots tore off from the cluster and extended sideways through the air, their other end wedged into massive holes on the west wall. These roots appeared like bridges or highway ramps intertwined over and under one another. Each of them was at least fifty feet wide and were likely the lateral roots that stretched across the island, the ones they had heard grinding below them the previous day, or the ones that had ripped apart the village. In fact, once the children inspected them further, they could see the roots were trembling and shaking ever so gradually, as if more dramatic movement was taking place on the other end of the roots and was reverberating back to the source. Bits of rock and dust and mud crumbled to the ground amidst the shaking of the roots.
Outside the web of roots, the children also noted tunnels leading up into the walls, fanned out across the chamber in a semi-circle. These no doubt led to the bunkers they had seen on the surface.
The children fell to the ground, hiding behind a small lip of hardened mud that acted as a kind of guardrail to a path extending to their right. The path fell down into the chamber in a serpentine fashio
n and led to the very epicenter where the giant ball of roots was gathered.
“Where’s Radicle?” Maggie whispered.
“He’s got to be in the middle of those roots,” Connor said, pointing to ones in the center. “That’s the cluster Revin told us about.”
“How in the world are you going to get in there?” Lucy asked.
Connor peered into the cluster, searching for a pair of massive eyes or a body of some kind, something that would indicate where a horrific beast might be found. The Shadow Army’s master had to be somewhere in the midst of those roots. But from where they hid, Connor couldn’t see anything. It made him nervous to approach an enemy that lacked a visible presence. He would fight what he had to fight, but how do you fight an enemy you can’t see?
“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “But there’s only one way to find out. Do you see any demons standing watch?” The three of them surveyed the chamber again, darting their eyes around the ground and to the many tunnels leading to the surface. The girls shook their heads. “Alright, let’s go, then. Stay low and quiet.”
They scurried down the path, following it toward the base of the chamber. As they crept along, they each had the feeling that something wasn’t right. It was too quiet. This was too easy. Surely, they would not be able to walk right up to the center of the roots without confrontation?
When they reached the bottom, Connor said, “You two wait here. Keep a look out.”
The girls stood back-to-back, their weapons still in hand, scanning the giant den for trouble. Connor slowly walked into the open and below the giant lateral roots. He glanced up, now better able to decipher their tremors. They were growing more powerful. One suddenly squirmed violently like an animal that had been injured, shaking the walls and ceiling and sending bits of mud and rock falling down on the children. They got low and covered their heads until the ruckus died down.
Something was happening on the other end of these roots, a distant battle the children were not engaged in physically but one they knew they were a part of. The assault on the queen’s lands and the Mysteria Tree was happening. They were sure of it. These shaking roots were terrorizing Revin, Sir George and the knights. Connor quickened his pace.
The ball of roots was impossibly large, several times the size of a normal house. With his sword still gripped tightly, he crept closer. From just a few feet away, he was able to peer into the cluster. It was like looking into a tight grouping of gnarled trees, although unlike trees, the base of the roots were not in the ground but lying flat. Though they were twisted together, there were holes and gaps in which Connor could climb in and, he hoped, sift his way to the center and find Radicle. It would be like climbing through a massive briar patch.
Just as he was on the verge of climbing in, the roots began to shift!
Connor jumped back and held up his sword in a defensive posture as they twisted and shook, grinding against one another. Their tips lifted into the air, squirming like a squid’s tentacles. Maggie and Lucy pointed their weapons toward the roots.
A voice emerged from within the thicket.
“Whoooo is thissss, who enters my lairrrr…..?”
The voice was much like a whisper, but a loud whisper that pierced the children’s ear drums.
“Ahhhh, yesssss. A child from the outside. I see that behind your eyeeesss. So she has brought in the firstborn of the storyteller, has ssssheee? How desperate the queen must be. What do you expect to do to me little boy?”
Connor gripped the handle of his sword. “This ends now, Radicle! You won’t hurt my father any longer!”
Laughter boomed from within the roots. “It is too late. Your father is already mine. He has lost control of his sssstory. My army is wiping away the queen’s knights and my roots are just moments away from dismantling that wretched tree in the mountain that stole my glory so many ages ago.”
“None of that’s going to happen!” Lucy screamed out.
She flung one of her knives at the roots. It stuck harmlessly into one. More laughter echod throughout the chamber. One root reached up and snapped off the tiny knife blade from the other. It fell to the ground just in front of Connor’s feet.
“Just a pinch, little girl. But I admire your anger.”
“Stand back, Lucy,” Connor said, turning to the girls. Maggie pulled her little sister back and held her close.
Connor faced the cluster again. “Do you think I’m afraid of you?”
“I care not if you are afraid, though I know you are. I care to enter your realm where I will ssserve my own master. You cannot defeat us, the villains of your tales…we manifest in the minds of storytellers because of what festers from your fall. There we grow in power so that we may reign in your world. I have grown ssstrong within your father’s story, preparing for my entry to the other side. My ssshadow will be cast anew to darken wills and minds beyond your father’s. But that is all sssoon at hand. Now, it brings me great delight to sssee you here, boy, to listen to your misplaced confidence. I welcome you to enter me sssso that I may have the pleasure of destroying you as well.”
Connor’s jaw clenched. He spun his sword around in his hand and sprinted forward, leaping through a hole where two roots crossed one another. He flipped over and landed with a thud on the ground, quickly standing at attention with his sword held high. The roots behind him shifted and closed the gap. He was entirely enclosed in the cluster.
It was dark in the interior, and he could barely hear his sisters screaming outside for him to be careful. Their voices were muffled behind the wall of roots. Connor knew he had to keep moving to the center. He had only a few feet of open space before another tangle of roots took over. He approached the bundle and climbed up a few feet, searching for a place to squeeze through. It was his first time touching the roots and they felt coarse against his skin. He eventually found a hole, climbing through it and sliding down the other side.
But when he landed, the roots began to move and shake! One swiped at his body and sent him flying through the air, banging right into another. He crashed to the ground and dropped his sword, struggling to breathe from the blow to his chest.
Laughter rang out all around him. “Careful, boy. Your kind is ssssooo fragile.”
Connor struggled to his feet and retrieved his sword. He pressed on, weaving in and out of the knots, at times crawling on the ground and at other times scaling the roots some twenty feet in the air to find his way through a gap. The more he navigated his way deeper into the center, the more the roots would squirm and thrash, trying to toss him about or knock him off his feet.
At first it felt like Radicle was toying with him, letting him move forward only to knock him back. It was a sick game. But Connor pressed on nonetheless. What else could he do? He moved faster, hurling his body through holes in the knotted roots and tumbling left and right to avoid massive swipes.
He began to sense a different tone from his enemy. The roots shifted quicker and took harder shots at him, but Connor was becoming more adept at avoiding them, picking up on the pattern of their movement. He even used his sword to hack his way forward. As the blade cut through a root, Radicle shrieked.
“SSStupid boy!” he hissed. “Is it worth the fight when you know you will not win?”
Connor danced his way farther into the cluster, though at times it was difficult to find his way. It was like a maze and he wasn’t always sure which direction he was moving.
When a huge root took a swipe at him, he darted out of the way and sliced his sword across it. Radicle shrieked again.
“You have exhausted my patience, boy!”
After a short pause, Radicle’s voice returned, though deeper now.
“Come, children. Come into my den. Protect your masssster!” He cackled. “Your ssssiters will soon be no more.”
Outside the cluster, Maggie and Lucy waited anxiously, helplessly watching the roots squirm and thrash. They couldn’t see their brother and no response came when they called for him. Their
eyes began to water as they held each other.
Their attention changed focus when a rumbling rose up from behind them. The ground began to shake. They turned and pointed their weapons at the stairwell. More rumbling welled up from the tunnels circling the chamber. They spun in all directions, waiting for what would emerge.
The girls finally saw it. A stampede of demons, down from each tunnel and the stairwell. Scores of them, tumbling on top of each other like an infestation of rats. Maggie and Lucy hopelessly pointed their weapons at them; they didn’t have nearly enough arrows and knives to defend themselves.
“Hurry, Connor!” they screamed. “Hurry! They’re coming!”
Inside the cluster, Connor dodged a root and thrashed his sword across it. Radicle shrieked again. This time his voice was louder. Connor was getting closer. He pressed forward. His adrenalin surged. He could do this. He was nearly to the center.
But then…what was that? His sisters?
It was! They were screaming, though he could only faintly hear them through the cluster.
They’re coming? Who’s coming?
The Shadow Army!
Radicle had called them down. How many were charging toward Maggie and Lucy? How long could they hold them off?
While he was distracted, a root smashed into his back, knocking him head first into another. He fell to the ground, disoriented. Rolling over on his back, he glanced up. The roots all spun and twirled above him, more violent than before. It felt like he was in the middle of a tornado looking up into the funnel, his vision blurred from the blow to his head.
Outside, Maggie and Lucy let arrows and knives fly. They hit many but too many kept charging. They backed up onto a mound of dirt, gaining an elevated position, and rapidly fired more and more, but soon their arrows and knives were no more. Maggie threw her bow on the ground and hugged Lucy. The army closed in on all sides, shrieking and laughing, deranged and hyper-crazed like rabid animals.
The Island of Two Trees Page 16