Wilderness Untamed

by Butler, J. M.

  "I haven't been able to remember mine anymore. And right now—right now I feel that if I sleep, something terrible is going to happen." She resisted the urge to cast another glance around the forest. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, but her elmis didn't even twitch with sensation. They at least knew what was real and what wasn't. For now.

  Her head pounded.

  QueQoa nodded sympathetically. "Does it help you to talk about what you see or does it help you to pretend it isn't there?"

  The ground beneath her feet swirled in a strange pattern, almost as if there were a kaleidoscope in her brain. When she shut her eyes, even the darkness moved. "I don't know," she whispered, holding her head. Eyes appeared in the soil. Great luminous white eyes. "I see eyes right now. And I'm afraid that if I look at you, your eyes will be gone. Melting down your face maybe. I keep telling myself it isn't real, but how long is that going to work? How long before—before—" She choked on the words. "It hasn't even been a day."

  "No." QueQoa stirred the coals.

  "Did you do these trips where you guided the Neyeb through Dry Deep?"

  He nodded, his deep-blue eyes clouded with concern.

  "It's happening faster to me, isn't it?" Her voice grew hoarse as she fought the tears. "I'm falling apart, and we aren't even a quarter of the way through."

  "It happens differently for everyone. But yes… this is fast. Faster than it should be."

  It figured. She struggled to curb the self-pity that rose within her. "I guess the good thing about that is soon I'll stop realizing what's happening. It'll all be over before I know it. Like waking up from a dream."

  "I doubt it. It'll just be a big mass of sensation and memory."

  She laughed weakly. "Work with me, QueQoa." She rubbed her hand over her face. "There was this horrible experiment they did with rats, you know. They put them in tubs of water to see how long they could tread water before they drowned. Most could only make it fifteen minutes. They saved some randomly though. Put them into the same tub the next day. They swam hours and hours because the hope spurred them on. They'd been rescued once. It let them do the impossible. And I—all I can think about is how horrible it was for the rats." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "They didn't want that. They didn't know. No one asks the rat. And if they did and if the rat understood, I suppose they'd say it would contaminate the experiment because that would give it purpose. Unless the point was to see how long you can go before you just can't and you die in despair. I think I'm the rat."

  Sinking to the ground, she folded her knees to her chest.

  He sat beside her and placed his hands on his thighs. For a moment, he opened his mouth as if to speak. Then he closed it.

  Her thoughts pulled her away. That low sucking dread returned. It wanted to pull her away. The hollowness somehow gave it greater strength.

  She buried her face in her hands and held fast.

  No.

  Her stomach twisted. The fading intensified. She wasn't asleep, but it pulled at her.

  Her voice lodged in her throat. Her limbs froze. But she resisted.

  A hand gripped her shoulder. The voice murmured, distant, as if through a great distance and beneath water. It shook her. The voice broke clearer into her mind. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

  She blinked, shaking her head.

  Naatos crouched beside her. A deep frown masked his face. "Amelia, you can hear me?"

  "I couldn't sleep." She cleared her throat and tried to moisten her mouth. Her tongue remained thick and dry. "It was—I couldn't."

  "Shhh." He cupped his hand along her cheek. "We can't stay for you to rest. Can you walk?"

  "I don't want to sleep. I can't. It's dangerous. I can walk."

  The day progressed much as the first. Apparently she had spent most of the night in that seated position by the fire. When AaQar took his watch, he had become concerned but was unable to rouse her. WroOth had not succeeded either. But Naatos had.

  She clung to that. He could reach her. She wasn't lost.

  More shadows surrounded her. The eyes followed wherever she went. The dread cut into her, biting and clawing. Sometimes it tried to pull her away. And the forest, this horrid place, it remained dull and dark. Moss hung down from the trees in thick clumps. The glow of the lichen made it all unnatural, nightmarish even in her most clear moments. The gurgling roars deep within echoed in her mind.

  Was that the sound of the Ki Valo Nakar?

  No.

  A small voice warned her that it would not come with a roar. It would come with clicks and hisses.

  And as soon as that thought occurred to her, she heard something creeping. Soft wet clicks. The rustling of antennae. Rapid steps from dagger-like legs. A thousand dagger-like legs.

  WroOth brushing against her arm made her jump. QueQoa's bootsteps made her skin crawl. The creak of the branches set her mind alight.

  With each passing hour, she fought for her sanity. She was sliding down a mountain, hanging on by her fingertips, shredding her elbows, stomach, and thighs. Let go for even a moment, and she'd plummet into an abyss without end.

  They stopped for the night. She lay beside Naatos, but she dared not sleep. The darkness swam before her. When the visions of him impaled or torn to pieces returned, she sprang away. AaQar tried to console her, but his face was melting. Its image followed her whether she kept her eyes open or shut. That terror at least kept her from sliding back to sleep or into paralysis.

  From there, it only worsened. She picked at her skin, bit her lips until they bled, and tugged at her hair. Dry Deep lived, and it hated her. Or maybe it loved her but needed to change her.

  Did that distinction matter?

  It all blurred. They were always walking, always stopping. Going in circles, maybe. If they went in circles long enough, she'd disappear entirely. Sometimes she looked back over her shoulder, expecting to see a trail of herself in the dusty soil.

  Glistening eyes glared at her. Eyes without bodies. Eyes without souls.

  What day was it? They weren't moving any more. A fire burned. Dishes had been stacked, but the grill had bits of fish on it. Nothing roasted over the fire. Had she eaten? She couldn't remember. Her stomach ached.

  Naatos slept a few feet away, his arm draped in a fashion that suggested she had been under it at one point, the brown blankets mussed. The rope connected to her foot remained bound to his. WroOth rested a little farther away, one arm draped over his eyes. QueQoa lay flat on his back, snoring.

  AaQar watched her, his posture sharp and alert, his expression concerned. As if he had asked her the same question several times. "Come back to the fire, Amelia. There's nothing out there."

  "How long have we been in here?" Her feet rooted to the ground. Something was calling her attention. Something beyond the silver and black shaggy-barked tree directly to her left. A great burl on its side reminded her of a cloaked figure.

  "Five days."

  Both longer and shorter at once. Endless days and nights. She moaned as she shook her head. It made no difference. Two days. Five days. Twenty days. She would never escape this place. She'd always be at the start or middle of the journey. Never at the end.

  AaQar stepped closer to her, his hand outstretched. "If you can't sleep, you can at least rest. Come by the fire and get warm."

  She flinched as his fingers brushed her hand. Movement caught her eye. Pulling back, she gestured toward the tree with the burl. "There. It's there. Someone's there."

  "Amelia, I promise you, no one is there. QueQoa and Naatos had to go far from our camp to find enough food for breakfast and our travel. We're alone. Just come and rest. I'll make you some tea."

  The shadow stepped away from the tree, its form suddenly obvious. The striking red hair and brilliant purple eyes were unmistakable. "Hello, little sister," she said in a cheerily teasing voice. "Fancy meeting you in such a dark and dreary place. Madness suits you." She grinned, her smile broad as a shark's.

  84

  Journeys in Darkne
ss

  Amelia stared in shock, her breaths swift and shallow. A bitter taste crept through her dry mouth. "What are you doing here?"

  "Amelia. Who are you talking to?" AaQar placed his hand on her shoulder.

  She jerked away, her gaze fixed on Rasha.

  "He can't see me, love. But I am real enough." Rasha gave a flourish with one hand and then folded her arms. Her pale purple gown practically glowed even though the firelight did not reach her. Where was that light source coming from?

  "Why are you here?"

  "You know how to open doors, dearest. And you've opened so many. I've been wandering along the lines you wove. You're quite the little spider. The Spider Mother would be so proud. She'd probably hug you. Right before she gutted you and fed you to her brood." She clicked her tongue, her eyes shining bright. Both were the same color now. That wasn't right. Why were they the same color? She'd been so careful to have separate colors before.

  "You mean—you've been in my head all this time? After you disappeared, you went into my head?" Something in that had a deeper tang of truth. But there was something else that was off.

  Rasha twitched her bare white shoulder. "It wasn't convenient for me to return to my own body. Why should I waste the incredible opportunity you presented?"

  "Amelia. It's very important that you answer me. Who are you talking to?" AaQar sounded far away. When she tried to focus on his voice, her ears hummed and her mind ached. It was easier to let him fade as she stared at Rasha.

  "What have you been doing in my head? Have you been watching everything?"

  Rasha dropped her head back unnaturally far and laughed. She laughed so hard that her whole body shook. "Oh no. Not at all. The doors you opened led to far more interesting places. I almost got lost a time or two. How lucky I am that you left those cords and strands, little spider. Not to mention you have a very unfriendly denizen inside you. And he does not like me at all. He isn't fond of most people at all."

  "He? The Ki Valo Nakar? It's a he?"

  Rasha chuckled darkly. "What else would he be? He's arrogant, entitled, and narrow-minded. Or perhaps I'm thinking of someone else."

  "You shouldn't be doing this." She pressed her hands to her temples. "Something is wrong. Why would you do this? It doesn't make sense."

  "Doesn't it? Why would I want to return to that shell until I am ready? It's all sorts of fun inside this mind of yours. Far bigger than one might guess. Besides, you're all razor blades wrapped in chocolate. Or you will be. Hard to say. Such an odd thing. Maybe it's what he'll make you. But first he has to gut you. Not in a literal sense. Metaphorical. Is that worse? That might be worse."

  She swallowed, her heart thudding faster. The prickles of alarm stung. She couldn't tear her gaze from Rasha's eyes. They were too bright, too sharp, too similar. "Are you really you? How do I know you're not just some—some apparition?"

  She waggled her brows, her smile coy as she tilted her head. "Good question."

  The edges of the world spun. "Will you answer me?"

  The shark-like grin returned. "I'll do you this one favor, little sister. Maybe two. You mustn't sleep. You've been wise to fight it. That's when he takes you."

  "What do you mean that's when he takes me?" A chill sliced through her. Everything darkened except for Rasha. They stood in a long dark hallway now. A hallway with dozens of open doors. Eyes appeared in the doorways, watching.

  The smile faded from Rasha's angular face. "He snatches you up in the dark of the night and lets them feast on you. All for some greater purpose I'm sure he will say. And no one can see. No one will see until it's too late because that's the way the magic works. You've restrained, ignored, and defied him. Did you think that would have no consequences?" She clicked her tongue as she shook her head. Her eyes flashed. "Those elder Neyeb couldn't think of a thing to do to fix this except hurl that spike down the path and hope they found another way before you impaled yourself. But there is no other path, dearest."

  "Maybe I have to walk the path. It doesn't mean I have to accept the outcome. There's a choice. There's always a choice."

  "Is there?" Rasha smirked, her mouth twisted in an ugly line. Her eyes started to run, turning into dark pits. "Or do you just think there is because the alternative is too horrifying?"

  Her breath caught in her throat. Everyone was gone now. It was just her. And this—this Rasha. If it was really her. It would have been easier to disregard her if the words didn't plunge so deep into her consciousness, weighted with truths she feared. The clicking resumed, distant now.

  Something was coming.

  "There's no one to train you, darling. No one to help. They'll do what they can, but you'll kill them all. You're worse for this family than I. And we both love them, don't we? So very, very much. Finding love isn't the problem. Living with it is. It's a knife in your gut, acid in your belly, poison in your veins. With love comes attachment, and with attachment comes pain. So you'll fight and you'll war to save them from what's ordained. But you can't even save yourself from what's coming."

  Amelia backed away, shaking her head. The humming intensified as the hall stretched farther and farther. "You need to go." And she herself needed to go. But there was no way out. No door. Just endless darkness and eyes forever watching.

  "You shouldn't fight this, little sister," Rasha responded, her voice silken and calm. Though she did not move, she was somehow closer. "With cruelty comes strength. With coldness security. You fear the Ki Valo Nakar? He is dangerous but he offers power and the ability to defend yourself. The Okalu? They have such plans for you. So much agony that this place you are trapped in will seem like heaven. Everyone breaks, my dear. None endure forever. Save yourself. Cut yourself off and feel no more. Abandon hope and them. They aren't your family, and they aren't your blood. Why suffer more?"

  An odd note of clarity struck Amelia. She lifted her chin, the clattering rising as if it feared her conclusion. "Now I know you aren't who you claim. Because if there was one thing she wouldn't say it is that they are not family because they aren't blood. Many things can be said of Vawtrian beliefs, but such an antiquated and myopic perspective isn't one I'd ascribe to any of them. You're just using her."

  She stared at her, the flaring in her purple eyes the only indication of her rage.

  And that was odd too.

  Her elmis did not prickle or burn. No sensation of emotion reached her at all except her own terror. And it did not entirely feel like a lie, but perhaps fear could pass as truth? The fog in her mind spread wider; she dashed her hand across her brow as if that would help to push it away. "You are a lie. Either the Ki Valo Nakar or my fears or something else."

  "I am who I claim. And if you want proof, I'll give you this. Things you could not know, little sister." She loomed closer, growing in height and stretching out in unnatural proportions. "In every reality in which WroOth locks with Mara, Mara dies violently. In every reality, Igrold and Hatet find one another and die in the battle of the great plains where the Okalu marches and Khanaan's head is broken. Matthu loses the use of his leg. Shon fails in love again and again and again. And the Second Nalenth is split in agony."

  "How could you know any of this?" Amelia demanded. She glanced back over her shoulder, then back to this creature. Her voice trembled. "You can't! If you were Rasha, you could not know any of this."

  "You opened the doors for me. I am only telling you what I have seen. You're the spider that has been crawling around to all sorts of places you don't belong."

  She shook her head, blinking. "Is she here though? Is she wandering somewhere in my mind?"

  "Hah." She shook her head. "Darling, if she is, you'd best pray for her. Do you know how frightening it is to be lost in another person's mind?"

  * * *

  Naatos jolted awake as AaQar shook his shoulder. "Naatos." His brother's face was lined with concern, his voice quiet but tight.

  "What?" He sat up. Amelia had gone again. She hadn't stayed with him for the full period
of rest since they came to Dry Deep.

  "Amelia's—" AaQar glanced over his shoulder and then gestured, his long sleeve swooping out as if to emphasize the point. "She's gone. She's been talking to someone for the past ten minutes, and she's getting agitated. I can't rouse her."

  Not even a week in and she was already having arguments with people who weren't there. Naatos dragged his hand over his eyes, his whole body tensing.

  "What do you mean?" Amelia demanded, her voice harsh and verging on a scream. "What have you done?"

  He crossed over to her, taking in every detail. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes bloodshot.

  She didn't see him. Her eyes cut straight through him to some horror beyond. "I won't let you. I won't let them. I won't let anyone." Her breaths came faster and faster, her whole body shaking. "I won't—I won't!"

  "Amelia. You have to come back. Come back to me." He put her hands on his temples, pushing her wrist elmis against the sides of his face.

  She folded against him. Her heart fluttered like a rabbit's, her body tense. Whatever words she tried to speak jumbled together.

  "It's all right. You're safe. You're safe." He held her tight, taking in every part of her. She was all right. She would be. Had to be. He pressed his head to hers. He'd have gone back to fighting those dragons a thousand times over if he could. If it wouldn't leave her stranded in this place. "We'll be through soon."

  They wouldn't.

  They were barely halfway through. And they couldn't go back. QueQoa and AaQar had both gone up to check the storm. Though they were relatively safe down here, it had been a slate aura storm. Yet another sign that things were out of order and drawing to a dangerous close.

  She uttered a half sob, her knees buckling. If he hadn't held her, she would have fallen. Her fingers curled along his cheeks and tangled in his hair. "I'm so sorry. I don't understand what's happening. I don't—I don't. It doesn't make sense."

  Carrying her to the fire, he tried to comfort her. Words offered nothing except sound. She sometimes heard him, sometimes didn't. Getting her to drink the tea took even more coaxing. The rest of the night passed slowly, but the following days brought worse.