THE MARK

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THE MARK Page 8

by Rebecca Daff


  “I know it’s a fly, Micah. But I think it’s the same one that was at the house before Leroy showed up. I told you about him.”

  “Are you sure it’s the same one?” he asked, holding out his hand like Chris was. The Fly flew over to perch on his finger. It waved up at him.

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” she said.

  The Fly buzzed and waved at them in a “follow me” gesture and flew toward the tree line.

  “We should go,” Megland said.

  “What about Hannah?” Chris asked.

  “She’s gone.”

  “But her body. She needs to be buried.”

  “We can’t go after her. It’s too dangerous.” Megland started walking in the direction The Fly had taken. Chris caught up with her.

  “What do you mean? We can’t just let them take her!”

  They had reached the trees and were weaving between their thin trunks. Moonlight dappled through the canopy overhead, resulting in a projection-like effect as they walked.

  “Hannah made her choice,” Megland said. “There’s nothing we can do except try to find shelter. Then we can decide where to go from there.”

  “Screw that.” Chris stopped walking. She knew if she stood there long enough everyone else would stop too.

  “Excuse me?” Megland said.

  “I said, ‘Screw that.’”

  Had it been in the context of any other situation, she might have found the look on Digs’ face comical. His eyes kept shifting from her to Megland then back again.

  “It might as well have been me,” Chris said. “That man in the cart might as well have been any one of us. It might as well have been you,” she said, pointing at Megland. “You’re Marked, too. And she’s the only one of us who did the right thing.”

  “We would have been caught right along with her if we’d stepped in,” Digs said.

  “Maybe. Or maybe with more hands we would have been faster. We could have freed him before anyone saw anything.”

  “There’s no way to know that for sure,” Micah said.

  “Right,” Chris said. “Just like we’ll never know what happened to Hannah’s body if we don’t go back. Oh wait, I do know.”

  “Christina, don’t,” Megland said.

  “Don’t what? Don’t say what we all know? Don’t say that Karniv could be eating her corpse as we speak? That that is exactly what he’s been doing to all the stray Marked that get brought back to Polaris? Is that what I’m not supposed to say? That Hannah, a kid, our friend is going to be eaten and her bones thrown in some pile somewhere? Is that what you don’t want me to say, Megland? Because that’s the truth.”

  No one spoke then. Chris’s hands were balled into fists at her side. She tried to catch her breath. Her eyes welled with tears. She was never going to see Hannah again and there was nothing she could do about it. She was barely holding it together until she felt Micah’s hand on her shoulder. As soon as she did tears streamed down her face.

  “Chris,” Micah said, his voice soft.

  She took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. She couldn’t stand the idea of crying in front of everyone. So, she did the only thing she could do and kept walking, kept moving forward, deeper and deeper into The Great Gray Wood.

  CHAPTER 11

  They had walked through The Great Gray Wood until the sun came up, until it shone through the trees in patches and beams. Chris was ahead of the rest of the group, sure that they were hanging back in part to give her space but also because no one wanted to rehash what she’d said earlier about Hannah’s body. Thoughts of Karniv’s bloody maw, how he’d feasted before the nightly feast, rolled through her mind in waves.

  She was just remembering how his paw had felt on her back when her toe snagged on her dress’s hem. When she reached for a nearby tree she missed and did a face plant on the forest floor.

  “Chris!” She heard Micah calling in the distance.

  “Are you alright?” That one was Digs.

  She flopped onto her back and closed her eyes to let sunlight shine on her lids. She wanted to see color again. She needed to see color. It didn’t work. Instead of the red she would normally see, light streaming through that thin layer of skin, her flesh was just another kind of gray. It really shouldn’t have surprised her. If the whole world around her was gray, wouldn’t everything inside her be gray as well?

  “You going to lie there all day?”

  Chris sat up, searching for whomever had spoken, but saw nothing. The same forest she’d been traveling through for hours flanked her on all sides. Micah and Digs were jogging toward her to see if she was okay, but Megland was still hanging back, walking.

  “Well?” An old woman with long, gray hair that flowed over a dark cloak shimmered into being a few feet from where Chris sat. Chris scuttled backward, crab walking on the dirt. The woman stopped where she was and Chris grabbed onto a tree to pull herself up. Digs and Micah finally caught up and stood by her.

  “Who are you?” Digs asked the woman while Micah made sure Chris was alright. She waved him off and told him she was fine.

  “I’m the oracle of this wood,” the stranger said. “Liza, if you’d rather call me that. Megland was looking for me.”

  “I was,” Megland said, approaching the group.

  Liza just smiled an enigmatic smile. “Yes.” She extended a hand toward them all and Chris saw the other rested on a gnarled wooden cane. “Come in. Let’s get you some food.” Looking them over, she added, “And maybe cleaned up a bit.”

  Chris backed away, placing a tree’s thin trunk between her and Liza. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I’ve read enough to know better than to go off into the woods with a witch. I’m no Gretel.”

  “And I’m no witch! Those frog-lovers live in their little commune in the south. I’m an oracle, and you’d do well to remember it.” She looked at Chris from top to bottom. “Now come inside and have some food. You’re entirely too skinny.”

  “You’re not plumping us up so you can eat us, right?”

  Liza lowered her hand and frowned. “Just come inside!” She turned and swung her arm around, a fast version of a game show’s merchandise model revealing a prize. A small wood cabin appeared. To Chris’s surprise, it wasn’t made of candy. A stream of smoke rolled out of the chimney and flowerboxes held gray pansies underneath the windowsills. It was unlike any storybook witch’s lair Chris had ever seen.

  When Liza swung open the door Chris spied an ordinary-looking room, bright with the sunshine that streamed through the window's glass onto a small kitchen table.

  “It looks alright to me,” Micah said.

  “Of course it’s alright,” Megland said in exasperation. “She’s an oracle, not a monster.” And she walked inside, not looking back. Digs followed.

  “Just come in for a few minutes,” Liza said. “I’ll fix you a plate and some tea while you wash up. Then we have much to discuss.”

  Chris’s legs threatened to give out from under her. She’d been running on adrenaline ever since they left Polaris. Now it seemed to whoosh out of her.

  “Will you leave the front door open?” she asked.

  “If it means that you’ll stop hugging that tree and come inside, then yes.”

  Only when she felt that she could walk without help, Chris let go. She walked into the cabin of her own volition, expecting the door to slam closed behind her. When it didn’t she allowed herself to relax a bit. Maybe they had finally found someplace safe, somewhere they could rest, if only just for a moment.

  CHAPTER 12

  When Chris felt sure that the oracle was, in fact, not going to cook her and her friends, she retreated to the washroom. Looking in the oval mirror above a porcelain basin of water, she could see why Liza had suggested they clean up. There were leaves and twigs sticking out of Chris’s hair. Her black curls were tangled and matted. Smudges of mud streaked her face. She looked more the part of a witch than the oracle did. But after a good scrub she soon looked lik
e herself again. She opened the door and let Digs in. Then she joined Megland, Micah, and Liza in the kitchen.

  “Much better!” Liza said, smiling at her.

  “I feel better. Thanks,” she said, joining Micah and Megland at the table. Plates had already been set out, but with everything in gray-scale so her eggs and toast were washed out. Chris took a small bite of egg and couldn’t believe how good it tasted. Then she was devouring her meal like it had been weeks since she had last eaten instead of just one day.

  “I thought you might be hungry,” Liza said over the rim of her teacup.

  Chris realized she was wolfing down her food and forced herself to slow down. “Sorry,” she said. She jabbed Micah with an elbow. He was hunched over his plate, shoveling food in like Chris had been. He took a look around, his cheeks bulging. Looking embarrassed, he sat up straighter and chewed. Megland, of course, had shown restraint the entire time.

  Liza sat her cup on the saucer. “Oh, don’t mind me. You all enjoy it. I made plenty.” As if to prove it, she rose and brought over another skillet full of eggs.

  “I never have anyone to cook for,” she said, scraping more food onto their plates. “This is a treat for me.”

  Digs sat at the table. Megland reminded him to mind his manners.

  “Thank you,” he said to Liza. He barely glanced at Megland.

  “So,” Liza said in a tone that indicated it was time to get down to business, “Chris and Micah, what do you think of our world? Very different from Earth, no?”

  Micah choked on his eggs, coughing. Liza jumped out of her seat, much quicker than Chris would ever have thought her capable, and thumped him on the back three times, hard. A glob of egg catapulted back onto his plate. He drew in big gulps of air, his eyes streaming.

  “Sip this,” she told him, offering him his cup of tea. “It’ll help.”

  “You okay?” Chris asked.

  He nodded, taking a small drink. Then, clearing his throat a couple of times, he said, “I’m good. I’m good.” It was garbled, but he sounded alright.

  Liza sat back down. “That was my fault. I sometimes forget that it can be…” She paused, searching for the right word, “…disconcerting to some people when I use my gift.”

  “Are you going to narc us out for being aliens? Turn us in?” Chris asked.

  “I’m not sure what ‘narcing’ someone out is, but I’m not going to hand you over to a mercenary. How could I? I practice magic too. I even moved out here so I could do it in peace.”

  Chris’s shoulders dropped a bit. A knot she hadn’t realized was in them unwound. “It’s hard to believe. A person not involved in the trade.”

  Liza waved her hand like she was trying to dispel an offending odor. “Of course not. I’ve seen the result of the Swampers’, mercenaries’, and king’s greed. I’ll have nothing to do with it. And I don’t intend to be put in a doll, either. I’m just lucky that my gift is strong enough that I can cloak myself. It’s the reason I chose to live in The Great Gray Wood. This whole region has magic-enhancing properties. The in-betweeness of the place amplifies one’s abilities.”

  She looked at Chris’s face, and something about her demeanor changed. It was as if she were looking through her, seeing beyond Chris. “You want to bring her back, yes?”

  Chris nodded, swallowing hard.

  “You want to find her. You’re trying to catch her and the man with her before they’re both gone forever.”

  Chris pushed her plate away and leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “Yes.”

  “You will meet them in the west, if you manage to get there whole. There’s much you have yet to face, but if you make it far enough she will be there. Then you can put her to rest.”

  “You mean she’s not at Polaris? Karniv doesn’t have her?”

  “Correct.”

  “I’m sorry,” Digs broke in, “but are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  Liza turned to him, her eyes still slightly unfocused, still looking through the world around her. “There is nothing left here for you, Digger, or you, Megland. Karniv’s men are looking for you all as we speak. You will find sanctuary south of here. Then you must go further, much further toward the setting of the sun.”

  “The Swamplands,” Digs said.

  “Can you see how we can get home?” Micah asked.

  She looked through him for a moment then said, “You think you are here by accident, that you just happened to be in the room when Christina was taken. That is not so. You were also brought here, and you have a part to play. You all do. Magic will help you go home.”

  “We’re from Earth,” Micah said. “We don’t have magic.”

  She smiled and then turned back to Chris. The smile faded. “Your journey home will only be possible with the death of a Swamper—at your hand. Leroy must die. He carries a piece of you wherever he goes. Your blood ties you to this world. At some point, you will have to sever that bond to return to your life.”

  Chris was about to ask if there was any other possible way, but Megland spoke up from where she’d been sitting quietly. “What happened to our mother?”

  The oracle nodded. She’d been expecting this, of course. “I can’t divine the past. I am sorry.” Her eyes slowly regained focus until she was looking at the room again. “To the south lies sanctuary. To the west, freedom.”

  Liza tilted her head to the side, listening to something. “Ah!” she said, grinning. She held out her index finger as The Fly buzzed into the room and landed on her hand. “This little creature has told me you are very stubborn, Christina.”

  “You were the one that sent him to my house?” Chris asked.

  Liza nodded. “I had hoped he’d be able to guide you, keep you safe, but things do not always happen as we plan.”

  “But how did he get to Earth?” Micah asked.

  “I told him to use the same portal as Leroy when he made the journey.”

  A rush of adrenaline coursed through Chris.

  “Megland can make portals,” Chris said, trying and failing to hide her excitement. Then, turning to her she said, “Make one so we can go home, Meg.”

  Megland sat her teacup on the table and said, “First, I’d rather you didn’t call me that. We don’t know each other well enough. Second, it took me days just to conjure the one that brought us to The Great Gray Wood, and you saw what that did to me. Creating something to take someone to a whole other world, that would take a lifetime, and it would probably kill me before I ever finished it.”

  The excitement Chris had felt at the idea of not having to see Leroy again, of her and Micah safely going home, began to fade. “There’s no other way? I have to be the one to kill Leroy?” She spoke the words aloud because she hoped it would help her wrap her head around the idea. But really, she hoped that someone would contradict her, tell her that she had misunderstood, that Liza was saying something totally different. But no one said anything. The Fly landed on her cheek and patted her face as if to say, Buck up, friend. It’ll be okay.

  “How am I supposed to kill a Swamper?” Chris asked. There suddenly wasn’t enough air in the room. The door was still wide open, but there wasn’t enough air. “They’re magic. And what about mercenaries? What if we run into one of those? Do I have to kill it too? Why can’t somebody else do the killing?”

  “Christina,” Liza said, her voice low and exceedingly calm.

  “What?” The tightness in her chest wouldn’t go away. She tried to breathe through it, but it wasn’t working.

  “You’re not alone. You have friends here that can help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  “But no one else can kill him?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “No,” Liza said.

  Micah tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, I know you’re all ‘girl power’ and don’t need me to say that I believe in you. But, you know, I believe in you. We’ve got your back.”

  Chris told herself that what Hannah had said in the orchard
wasn’t true. She wasn’t a coward. Hannah had only known her for a few days. Micah had known her for years. If her best friend was confident in her ability then that should mean more to her than the opinion of someone she had just met. Chris made a mental note not to forget it.

  Liza started to clear the table. “Everything will happen as it’s meant to, my dear. There will be some along the way that will try to help. Some will distract you, and others will try to stop you. But you must learn to trust your stomach. You’ve had that sinking feeling before, yes?”

  Chris nodded and Liza took her cup. “Your gut will let you know when something is amiss.”

  After breakfast was done they talked a while then rested. When the time came to leave, Chris could tell she wasn’t the only one reluctant to walk outside. The world beyond the cabin’s door was dangerous, and an impossible task lie ahead. Liza loaded a basket of food for them to take and then it was time to say goodbye. The four adventurers thanked the oracle for her help and stepped outside. Chris was the last one out.

  “Christina,” Liza called from her diminishing front door.

  “Yeah?”

  “We all struggle to overcome our past. Don’t let it get in the way. Give that young man a chance,” she said with a wink.

  Before Chris could respond, the cabin, the flowerboxes, and the oracle faded back into the forest, leaving her with even more to think about.

  CHAPTER 13

  They walked through The Great Gray Wood until the day waned, and Chris wondered if they were going to have to sleep on the forest floor that night. They walked until their feet ached and their steps became a synchronized, rhythmic plod. None of them felt much like talking about what the oracle had told them. To talk about things were to make them real, and marching straight into the Swamplands to take on one of the most powerful creatures on Kellet was already real enough.

  Chris was just about to ask everyone if they should start making camp when she heard music piping from an accordion.

 

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