White Tree Sound

by Lizzy Ford

  Of course, if he stayed, he could find the Ring and for certain know his future would be of his own designing. He’d defeat his master and rule the galaxy. Elf would be safe and could go wherever she wanted.

  The decision wasn’t as easy as that. The crystals made that clear. The planet weighted the door heavier, as if to entice him to choose it. If he had learned anything from this planet, it was that there was no promise of anything being real. It was possible this was a dream, and the beverage gremlins would appear soon to offer him a milkshake.

  If he stripped away the crystals, the planet, and the idea of there being a tomorrow, what would he choose? Returning to his ship or Elf?

  How had he gone from viewing her as an obstacle to wanting to make sure she went with him, wherever he ended up?

  “I’m doing this for my teddy bear,” I tell the labyrinth.

  I lift the sword. It’s heavy, around twenty pounds. If I can heft and swing it, it should take a good chunk out of a demon.

  “Where’s this dragon?” I ask loudly.

  More pacballs appear above the treasure.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I answer the unspoken question.

  I’m not, but I’ve made my decision. I’m going to rescue the villain.

  What would the villain do?

  This question leaves me less certain. If he had to choice between me and the Ring …

  It infuriates me to think about it, but he’s a legitimate villain. He’d have every right to choose the Ring and power over a Power User who can’t use her power.

  And honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d be a backup plan, a second choice, an option.

  My face feels warm. I don’t know why that makes me want to cry. We’ve had our moments but … I don’t think anyone would ever choose me, even though I always choose them.

  I hate this feeling – the combination of uncertainty, dread and resignation.

  The Red Knight’s eyes settled on Elf. She’d gone from someone he intended to use to a woman he didn’t want to let go after this all was over. His unexplained protective instincts made sense to him after all they’d been through. It was the intensity of emotion he experienced when he thought about abandoning her here that left him reeling and uncertain what to do. How could he spend his life in a world or galaxy without her? Leaving here would definitely complicate his life. If he stayed any longer, he had no guarantee he’d ever leave at all.

  As he stood, pensive, he acknowledged that he wasn’t trying to talk himself into staying but debating which choice was less likely to result in losing Elf. Nothing on this godforsaken planet had been straightforward. He’d have to risk never returning to his ship or escaping.

  He removed his sword from its sheathe and touched the tip to the casket. The crystal disappeared and reappeared on his palm.

  The door, and its pacballs, vanished.

  He gripped the hilt tightly and braced himself for what the planet would do next.

  I blink. When my eyes open, I’m standing in a field. A forest in the distance hides the castle at the base of a peak, and no labyrinth is in sight.

  No dragon waits to devour me. I’m alone in the center of the battlefield.

  My pity party melts away, replaced by dread.

  A breeze hits my legs.

  I’m dressed like Punky Brewster: rainbow tulle skirt, mismatched knee socks, mismatched Converses, pigtails.

  “No dragon will take me seriously dressed like this,” I say, distressed. I have no idea what I’m doing and no idea how I’m going to survive. I heft the sword and attempt to swing it. If I don’t kill this monster with the first blow, I’m done.

  What made me think I could take on a dragon?

  Jared.

  I’m such a fool. I fall for a villain who would probably trade me to the demon in exchange for the Ring and I’m ready to risk everything to protect him. Why would someone like him need protecting at all? I can barely take care of myself, and one might argue I can’t take care of myself.

  “I am so stupid,” I breathe and toss my head back. I’ll never get home, and it’s completely my fault.

  The sky is bright blue, lit by the moons that are almost in full eclipse. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to stop them from ticking, and I don’t know how I’m going to face a demon. I’ve been out of my element since I first laid eyes on the Skyscraper twins. Hell, I was out of my element with the original Jared, too. He came seeking answers, and I believed I found someone who might have been able to understand all my funny worlds and me.

  The truth is – I’m a hopeless wreck.

  Tears sting my eyes.

  I give up. I can’t hide my pain anymore. My breakdown on the labyrinth wall in front of Jared was the last of my will power. I’ve been suspended in emotion I can’t process for over a year. I’m scared, alone, and tired from this epically insane journey – and my life in general.

  I think, sometimes when I look at Jared, I want him to see me for who I am, but I’m terrified of what that means. In the past, it’s always meant rejection. That he’s held me more than once is enough to put me into a panicked tailspin. I’m already too close to him.

  I’m already doomed.

  He’s probably reached the Ring and is gleefully plotting his takeover of the galaxy while I fight a stupid dragon.

  Where is the beast? Watching me pull myself back from the verge of a meltdown? Stoking the fire in its chest so it can crispen me up with its first fiery breath?

  Is crispen a word?

  “It should be,” I say.

  On one side of the massive battlefield, forms gather. I squint but can’t make them out, except that the smoke and fires of hell aren’t present.

  I heft the sword and drop it immediately. I can’t swing this thing.

  Why does he get to be Sleeping Beauty? I’m all about equal rights for women, and supporting men who want to be Disney princesses, but Jared knows how to use a sword, and I don’t. Common sense dictates he should fight the demon then come wake me up when he’s done. With the sword in my hands instead, there’s a one hundred percent chance we’re both going to die.

  The forms are starting towards me.

  “I have a bad feeling about this.” I shift the sword from one hand to the other.

  I wipe my eyes.

  “You can be my wingman anytime.”

  My heart stops. I turn around.

  My god. Jared looked great in a space uniform but in the clothing of a legit knight? The Red Knight of White Tree Sound?

  I’ve never seen anyone or anything more beautiful.

  “Bullshit. You can be mine,” I manage. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I don’t know,” he admits softly. “I was in the courtyard staring at you in a casket, blinked, and now I’m here.”

  He didn’t … he can’t have gone through the same challenge I did, could he have? Because no one would ever choose me over anything!

  “Me, too,” I say awkwardly.

  We gaze at one another. I’m not certain what to say. My face feels hot. We’ve faced different challenges when separated thus far. I shouldn’t feel a flicker of ecstasy at the very slim chance he decided he’d rather face a dragon to save me than ... whatever the alternative was. He could’ve been offered a crouton for all I know. I’m happy to rank higher than a crouton.

  I’ve noticed him transforming, but seeing him in the Red Knight’s clothing drives it home. He’s not the two-dimensional villain I met on a spaceship. He’s not exactly the man I had coffee with, either. This Jared is his own person, the man he was before all those adventures turned him bitter and guarded.

  He appears resolute, and his eyes are stormy with emotions he didn’t possess at the beginning of this tale.

  His intensity remains, and I sense what I did when I met him originally at the coffee shop, that he’s seeing the parts of me I want to keep hidden. It’s an odd sensation, because I know he can’t read minds, and it’s not
possible for him to know my past. He doesn’t even know his past!

  But he regards me as if he knows everything.

  Maybe, like me, he knows what counts – what we’ve learned about one another in the labyrinth.

  “What did the planet offer you?” he asks.

  I mumble something intelligible.

  “What?” he insists. He moves closer to me. I love his scent and admire his features.

  “A door,” I say.

  “To where?”

  “Just a door.”

  He studies me. “Home.”

  “Fine. I chose to face a dragon instead of going home. It’s okay if you laugh. I know you would’ve picked differently!” I say, flustered and defensive. I’m too embarrassed to tell him I chose him.

  “It offered me a door to my ship,” he says, unfazed. “You or a way off this planet.”

  “Did you make a mistake?”

  “Not even.” He smiles faintly. “Did you?”

  “No,” I reply.

  The silence between us is filled with words neither of us can say aloud.

  We chose each other. Although, there’s a part of me that whispers he’d probably choose the Ring over me. I don’t want to find out for sure. I want to enjoy being important enough to keep him on the planet.

  “We’ll probably die right here,” I point out.

  “I want to die with someone I can love that's gonna love me back. Is that psycho?"

  I smile. “No,” I reply. “It’s not.”

  My emotions are too raw for me to hide anything. The walls I built around my heart and feelings have vanished. Even if I wanted to keep Jared at a distance, I couldn’t. Warmth blooms inside me. Not lust – which is definitely present as well – but hope and belief that maybe, for once, I’m someone’s first choice instead of his last.

  “I’ll take that,” he says and reaches toward the sword. Our hands brush. It’s not just my cheeks that turn pink. He clears his throat, and he lifts the sword as if it weighs one tenth of what it does.

  “I want to help,” I say, frustrated.

  “You’ll protect me.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I,” he responds. “You’re my good luck charm.”

  I step back as he unsheathes the massive sword at his back. He twirls and maneuvers the weapons, a soft smile on his features, as if he, too, understands who he was meant to be. Of all the characters he’s been, in all the lives he doesn’t remember, this is who he has always been destined to become.

  No part of me is surprised. He played many characters, but he is the Red Knight of White Tree Sound.

  We look toward the specks on the far side of the battlefield.

  “Check the Viewfinder,” he says.

  I glance down and pluck up the Viewfinder hanging from my waist. Lifting it, I peer through it.

  I gasp. Dread sinks into my stomach. “They’re heeeeere.”

  “What is?” he asks.

  “Everything,” I answer.

  I kind of wish there was a dragon. The enemies we’ve had to evade in the labyrinth march towards us. The Care Bear towers above everyone else. I can identify the enemies I’ve had to evade in the labyrinth: Freddy, Lost Boys on their motorcycles, Beetledude, goblins, trolls, vulture people, zombie Billy Idol, and the three-headed monster. There are enemies I haven’t seen yet, and I assume Jared has: Popples, two T-rexes, and the hooded dude from the holograph in Jared’s ship.

  Too stunned to speak, I hand him the Viewfinder.

  He sheathes one sword and looks. His jaw ticks, and he lowers the Viewfinder.

  “It’s not that bad,” he says finally.

  I glare at him.

  “I’m not saying I want to build a summer house here.”

  Jesus. I don’t know what his obsession is with movie quotes. “Why is the Care Bear there? Didn’t you rescue his princess?”

  “That didn’t go as desired,” he replies vaguely.

  Not sure what that means. “Do you have a plan?”

  “Fight.” He doesn’t hesitate to say the word. His gaze is clear, determination on his features.

  “All of them?”

  “Yes.”

  His streak of madness remains.

  “Why don’t we run?” I suggest.

  “I’m done running,” he says firmly. “This nightmare will never end unless we end it now.”

  “We might run out of crystals if we die too many times.”

  “We won’t. Trust me.”

  I do. I trust the man who wanted to feed me to vulture people with my life, and I almost believe he can defeat the army coming towards us, too.

  “You’re not the same man who walked into the labyrinth with me a few days ago,” I whisper.

  “It’s not the time, honey, it’s the mileage,” he replies. “We’ve been through too much to be the same.”

  I accept the Viewfinder back and swallow hard. “Okay. We fight.” The words are tight. I sound scared – but I’m actually terrified. “Jared isn’t your real name, either. It’s Jareth. You were named after a villain in a story.”

  He considers it. “Your name isn’t Elf.”

  “Lizzy, short for Elizabeth. I go by my middle name.”

  “Hello, Lizzy,” he says and offers his hand. “My name is Jareth.”

  “Hello, Jareth.” I shake his hand.

  “When this is over, and I’m victorious in claiming the Ring, will you come with me to White Tree Sound?”

  My mouth is dry. I don’t know what to say. I want to ask if he means for a visit or forever, but I know that answer already. His gaze is too direct, his grip on my hand firm.

  That’s when it clicks he said he’d claim the Ring first. “I think we have a few things to work out first,” I respond, thoroughly confused by the combination of dread and euphoria swirling within me. I want to say yes, but … he can never have the Ring.

  “Maybe.” He cups my cheek in his hand. A thrill goes through me a split second before his lips brush mine. He seems as hesitant as I am, as if this stage of our relationship scares him, too.

  We’re in this together, whatever this is.

  I shift into him. I’ve been afraid of what I feel and showing others how I feel my whole life for fear of being judged or ridiculed.

  I press my lips to his. I’d rather risk his rejection than stand on the sidelines and wish I’d had the nerve to kiss a man like this. He deepens the kiss and slides his tongue between my lips. He tastes like he smells: caramel and bourbon. Sweet and dangerous. We kiss slowly, enjoying each other’s flavor. Desire stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced burns through me.

  Shouts disrupt the incredible moment. True to the inconsistent sense of time and distance, our enemies have crossed the battlefield and are almost upon us.

  The Red Knight and I rest our foreheads against each other’s. His breathing is as uneven as mine.

  “I have to go fight a Care Bear,” he whispers.

  He strides away and then breaks into a jog. I feel it, too. If he doesn’t leave now, he won’t be able to leave at all. The Red Knight of White Tree Sound draws the sword at his back. He stops running fifty feet in front of me and wields his swords, ready to fight off an army.

  I’m useless. I don’t know what to do or even if I can do anything. Crystals and pacballs hang over our enemies.

  A flicker of concern trickles through me.

  Will we still have to fight a demon?

  This may look like the end but it doesn’t feel like it.

  You won’t die here, I vow without any confidence that I can affect what’s about to happen.

  The line of our enemies breaks against him like the tide. One second, they’re twenty feet away. The next, they’re falling beneath his swords. His flurry of movement is breathtaking, a combination of agility and strength with weapons spinning so quickly, they’re blurs of steel. No one crosses the invisible line he’s guarding. Any time someone creeps past him, he launches at them, using a combin
ation of mixed martial arts and weapons to kill or drive them back.

  He can do it. He can fight an army. He collects crystals as he takes out his opponents. Bodies pile up around him. He manages to use them to his advantage, too, by leaping off them to attack larger challengers. The Care Bear hangs in back, as if waiting for the right moment to attack.

  My initial optimism begins to fade as half a dozen vampires and men in black from his spaceship reach him. The vampires leap off their bikes and fly at him, fangs exposed. It’s not until I see his mentor – the hooded dude – send lightning bolts smashing into Jareth that fear flashes through me.

  Jareth is flung back ten feet. He climbs to his feet slowly.

  There’s no way this is going to work.

  “You can’t let him die here!” I say and glance towards the sky, as if my younger version can hear or understand. “You won’t let him die here!”

  Wind blasts past me from behind. I spin around.

  The Centennial Eagle lands. Its ramp opens. A handful of Bobbits, Badbartigan, Zillow, a hundred cabbage people, smurfs, plastic ponies, WB Hitchcock and the Skyscraper twins spill out of the Eagle. Our allies give fierce war cries and charge onto the battlefield.

  Jareth is locked in a battle with his mentor, and our allies are soon clashing with the enemies. I’m happy enough for warm tears to blur my vision.

  Zillow and Dildo stop beside me.

  “Is Elora Doo safe?” I ask Zillow.

  “She is,” he confirms. “I am happy to see you are alive!”

  My focus is on the battle.

  “Elf,” Dildo whispers. “We must go.”

  “Where?” I ask.

  “The Ring. With everyone distracted, we can take it and send it far from here, where it’ll be safe.”

  The trolls are on the field fighting. This has to be the real Bobbit.

  My eyes linger on Jareth. I have to remove the Ring from the equation. I don’t want that to come between us but suspect it will. Isn’t that the job of a heroine? To choose right over wrong, even if she’s fallen for the villain?