The Wildest Woods

by S. K Munt

  Keeping this in mind, the girl slowed her pace to equal the man’s and took the time to breathe in that frosty air, aware of the fact that this was the first time she’d ever gone on an excursion without being ordered to, so she should stop and smell the brittle leaf litter. Yes Satan had pushed her to follow this path, and yes she still had the right to demand that her daughter perform two tasks for her in compensation for the wishes that she’d granted her without argument, meaning that she wasn’t yet truly free… but if she’d wanted to unfurl her wings and fly away on those northern winds then she could have, and the only person she’d have to answer to for that was herself and her guilty conscience… at least until Satan had recuperated enough to wish her back into Hell, or to wherever she was so inclined.

  I was always free, the girl thought then, and it was a sobering notion. If I’d let my rage and unhappiness rip out of me the way it had last night years ago, I would have realised that I had wings and therefore, the ability and the right to fly as far away from the Barachiels as possible! But no, I kept my pain and anguish bottled up inside me because I thought that I deserved that fate, and look what happened! Look at how limited an existence a powerful, intelligent human being can resign themselves to living, if they believe that they don’t deserve any better! Oh, what good I could have done the people of Arcadia, if only the Barachiels had encouraged me to spread my wings and soar, instead of commanding me to grovel at a prince’s feet and be thankful for having the opportunity to do so!

  Anger and resentment surged inside her again, heating her blood (she couldn’t bear to think of how happy she and Kohén might have been together if only he’d known that she was a more powerful Nephilim than he!) but aware that there was nothing that she could do to reverse time and change anything, and conscious of the fact that thinking about the Barachiel’s for too long brought on an instant migraine, the girl went back to watching her feet trip along that barren, hard-packed and frosted earth, resenting the fact that she was walking this path when she could have been soaring above it, but mindful that every step that she was taking was carrying her- and everybody that trusted her to be a thoughtful leader- one more step away from Eden and the so-called angels that lived within.

  Away from the holy place and the pious people that had scorched her soul even more than Satan and her hell fires had.

  Don’t worry, Larkin said silently to the man in front of her, squeezing the diamonds around her neck hard enough to bite into her hands. I’ll protect you as best as I can, old-timer. I know how it feels to be betrayed because you are considered to be worth less than others, and I’d sooner die then let that happen to another human being!

  He did not answer of course, but he heard her. And I know this because, dear reader, I was that old man, and like that angelic girl, I had been charged with a mission by Satan- not to make history, but to record it with absolute accuracy.

  I am Samuel McIntyre, and although this isn’t my story, I am a part of it now- as are we all.

  Please, pray that it ends well for all of us. Just don’t ask me who to pray to.

  1.

  The Wildwoods

  Larkin

  Sunday August 22nd AA644

  My spirits began to diminish as the sun started to sink behind the mountains, and the temperature dropped so swiftly that not even my hottest, fiercest thoughts could keep me warm from the inside out and soon enough, I began to tremble from the relentless chill as my muscles began to seize up from over-exertion. My head throbbed with every step that I took and I began to resent my old trainer for assuring me that I was as fit and healthy as could be. Perhaps I was both of those things, but what were they good for without endurance?

  The rest of The Sequestered had slowed down a little, enough for me and my disabled companion to be able to keep up with them, but I’d fallen slightly more behind when I’d stopped to relieve myself, and had been walking slightly faster for a while in order to catch up. He was obviously struggling as much as I was, but not once had I heard any of the other members of The Sequestered complain and that astounded me, because were I not so determined to prove myself to be as strong as they needed me to be, I would have been crying like a baby for the cramps in my legs.

  Then as though I weren’t already struggling enough, the ground suddenly began to slant up at a sharper angle, and I almost sobbed in agony when I felt the muscles in my lower back pull tautly together. I hissed under my breath as I reached behind myself to press my frigid fingertips into my aching lower back- and then cried out when I walked straight into a boulder that I hadn’t seen, because it was concealed within the knee high mist that I hadn’t seen rising around me either. I cursed and hobbled around the offensive boulder, bending to rub my stinging knee (skin had come off despite the fact that my suede pant legs hadn’t torn) and then walked straight into a low-hanging branch of a tree that had come out of nowhere- an ancient elm that didn’t belong there. Pain bit into my forehead when the sharp bark did so I cursed audibly, wishing the old man in front of me would be thoughtful enough to give me a head’s up every now and then.

  Get it together, woman! I thought, rubbing my head and sighing when my fingertips came away covered in blood. I’d already had a headache coming and going all day- I didn’t want to have to add concussion to that! They’re going to think you’re more fit to become a jester than a monarch if you trip over again!

  I didn’t mind the idea of being absolved of all responsibility for these people, but I knew that Satan wasn’t going to let me off the hook that easily, so if I was truly fated to become their queen, then I wasn’t going to be known as an ungainly one! In fact, I was tempted to just let my wings unfurl and fly the rest of the way- that would impress The Sequestered, wouldn’t it? And give my legs a much-needed time-out?

  But I knew that I’d be pretty unimpressed with myself (and with anyone else) for taking the easy way out while their traveling companions were forced to continue on in the human way, so I trudged on and soon enough, I saw that The Wildwoods around me were thinning out, and that tall but lifeless fir trees were starting to rise up sporadically from the tilted ground in addition to the elms. The briar was becoming sparser too and were being replaced with clusters of rocks, and everything was either dusted by snow or coated with frost, including the ground which was becoming slicker or sludgier depending on the substance of the foundation beneath it. I should have been grateful for the evidence that the country was more than just a thicket of thorns, but as soon as the scenery changed, so did the atmosphere- and not for the better. It became colder, windier and to my concern, louder.

  I had sheathed my sword hours ago when it had become too heavy to carry, but when I heard an animal bark in the far distance I was tempted to draw it again, understanding that as the sun was sinking, the region’s nocturnal predators were rising and likely to come looking for a human-shaped snack soon. Foxes, wolves, bears, snakes… I hadn’t seen one yet despite the rumours that The Wildwoods were infested with them, but I’d seen enough evidence of them to know that they were around in the form of the piles of droppings that I’d passed on the trail, and in the attire that The Sequestered were wearing. Some had coats made of grey wolf fur, others were simply wrapped up in bearskins, and the rest were just toting a fox-fur stole or hat, but every single one of them had something to protect themselves from the elements with that had come from a wild animal, and I didn’t doubt that sooner or later, a pissed off salt and pepper bear would come after us, looking to avenge a felled comrade.

  I couldn’t judge The Sequestered for wearing so much animal fur because wild animals seemed to be the only viable resource that they had, but I’d been raised in a place where the hunting of animals had been restricted to when an infestation of one species had thrown the local ecosystem out of balance, and so the idea of slaying a creature in order to survive more comfortably did not sit well with me. That would probably change once I got to know these people and got to walk in their shoes for longer than one miserable gr
ey day, but for the time being they were still just a bunch of wild, questionable and excitable outlaws that had been developing relationships with Satan behind God’s back, so I wasn’t yet ready to assume that they did everything that they did with good intentions and a healthy respect for the environment. Nor was I ready to say that anything that attacked them wasn’t well within its rights to do so- a sentiment that I hoped Karol Barachiel was feeling towards me at that very moment as he came into power in Arcadia. Nervously, I touched my hand to my diamond necklace and wondered if it was technically stolen property now.

  What are they doing? How are they coping? How is Constance? Are they looking for me? Or am I a nightmare that they would rather forget than pursue?

  As though I hadn’t already been feeling sorry for myself enough as it was, my stomach grumbled then, drawing my attention to the fact that I was growing more lightheaded with every step that I took up that now very steep path. I’d expected us to stop for lunch earlier, but The Sequestered must have eaten before we’d left their camp because we’d only paused twice for people to use the bushes at their discretion since we’d commenced the hike, and not once had anyone mentioned having a bite to eat. I’d seen two of the mothers breastfeeding infants that were strapped to their chests, but I’d apparently been the only one driven to distraction by their hunger, so I hadn’t said anything for fear of looking weak again.

  But I was feeling weak now and feared that I would faint if I didn’t get something inside my stomach soon, because it was Sunday, which meant that it had been six days since I’d last eaten a solid meal, and over twelve hours since I’d last had something to drink that wasn’t champagne or seawater. Bastien had mentioned earlier that morning that The Sequestered had limited resources because The Wildwoods weren’t viable for hunting or gathering, and he’d also mentioned that he didn’t eat anything unless he wanted to, so he had a habit of forgetting that humans like me needed to. He’d said this while I’d paused to lap salty freshwater from a small stream inside the cavern and had promised to be more considerate from then on, but he’d evidently forgotten that moment because he hadn’t come to check on me since. Perhaps he thought I was stronger than I was or maybe he was just giving me the space that I’d told him I needed and the independence that I craved, but the moral of the story was that if I wanted to be looked after, I was going to have to get used to doing it myself. That wasn’t a horrible notion, but after years of literally being fed from a silver platter, it was going to be a big adjustment for me.

  I was just in the middle of assuring myself that I’d be able to learn how to hunt, gather and cook when I remembered that becoming a leader meant that I wasn’t just going to have to learn how to take care of myself- but everybody else too! My head swum and my step faltered as the significance of what Satan had asked me to do for her finally hit home and my knees buckled beneath me.

  Shit! I thought, gasping down air that had become thinner and less satisfying with the ascent in altitude. Oh shit! How am I going to be able to feed these twenty mouths when I don’t even know how to feed myself? I haven’t even learned the basics, and why would I have? I wasn’t even going to get the chance to raise a child, let alone a kingdom! Oh Satan, what have you done to me? No wonder Bastien isn’t making taking care of me a priority, because soon enough it will be my job to take care of him!

  Tears came to my eyes unbidden as I imagined learning how to build houses or make rules or settle disputes, but I shuddered and flicked them away, knowing that I was likely to dissolve into a puddle of tears if I gave into the urge to let some leak out now. Someone called out my name then- Bastien- and I lifted my throbbing head... and then shrank back when I found myself squatting on flat ground before the yawning entrance to a gigantic cave. Mist hung in the air around us and blurred the edges of my vision, but I could see people moving sheet metal and planks of wood away from that massive hole in the mountainside with perfect clarity.

  No, not a cave... I thought, first looking up at the jagged peak of the mountain thrusting up into a dense fog above me, before dropping my gaze back down to see that the others were busy unblocking the opening, and ushering one another through a perfectly cut sphere of rock. A tunnel! Where does that lead? Who could have made such a thing? Surely that wasn’t carved out of the mountain by human hands?

  ‘What is…?’ I asked, rising slowly and appraising the tunnel’s entrance goggle-eyed as Bastien began to return to where I was standing, looking as luminous and energetic as he had before the four-hour hike through The Wildwoods. The sight of his glowing complexion irritated me to no end- didn’t this man ever droop? Who had the right to look that handsome after such a marathon? More importantly, how had I ever thought of him as being creepy-looking? He was so ridiculously beautiful that even the clouded air seemed to part around him in awe- piling up on insignificant old half-bred me and the cloaked man instead, who had slumped onto a boulder and gave no indication that he intended on standing up again any time soon. For the first time all day, I realised that the old man’s cloak wasn’t made of animal fur, but a luxe black velvet that had been embroidered with intricate gold stitching and lined with sleek black satin, and that caught me off-guard. Was this old refugee a former member of the nobility, or had he stolen the cloak from its rightful owner?

  ‘This tunnel is a relic from the time before, and an extension of the path that The Sequestered have been using for years,’ Bastien said, coming over to rub my arm vigorously. ‘Trains used to pass through it when they were headed to the more remote regions, but by the time we found it, the tracks had disintegrated and the base of it had filled with debris and stagnant water. It was toilsome to clear it out, but we worked on it for the better part of seventeen years, and now it’s rather comfortable inside, even if it looks gloomy from out here.’

  ‘We?’ I asked.

  ‘The Sequestered and I,’ Bastien leaned over to swipe a strand of my hair out of my eyes and over my clammy forehead, ‘with Satan’s help, of course.’

  ‘Oh, I said woodenly. ‘Of course.’ I wasn’t ready to be touched so intimately by a man just yet even if that man was biologically family to me, so I stepped delicately out of his reach and moved to approach the entrance more quickly, hoping to disguise my awkwardness under a façade of curiosity.

  Seventeen years old… they have been building this place up for as long as Arcadia has been tearing me down… how lovely!

  I’d been getting used to Bastien’s company in the caverns earlier that morning, but we’d gone out of our way to avoid talking about Satan in order to keep her out of our thoughts for a while (or at least that had been what had motivated me to steer the subject away from her) and hearing her name spoken aloud again now brought all of my fears and insecurities- and frankly my resentment towards her and Bastien both for creating me only to abandon me- rushing back with another pounding headache. How was I ever going to be able to think of Bastien as a good man let alone an archangel who was worthy of my trust, when the mere mention of Satan’s name reminded me of the fact that he had been taken in by her? And that the consequences of the deal he’d struck with her had been dictating my destiny since before my conception? Satan expected me to be grateful for the power that their union had bestowed upon me, and I suppose that in my position, a lot of people would have been... but if I could trade that power and the responsibility that had come with it and the torturous life that I had lived up until that point for the chance to be a normal, human girl with two parents and fair prospects, then I would have done so in a heartbeat.

  What good did all the power in the world do a person, if it could not help them in their darkest hours? I’d flown the Eden coup before I could be raped the night before- but not before my heart could be poisoned by hate or my womb could be poisoned; period- and that was partially Bastien’s fault. Bastien, Satan, Martya… they all wanted me to accept a kingdom in lieu of the happy childhood that their interference had denied me, but I didn’t want a fucking kingdom- I wanted my i
nnocence back! I wanted to know that there was at least one person in the world that I could trust as much as I had once trusted my dear Kohén, before his crown, sexuality and obligations had shredded our bond.

  But I knew it wasn’t the time to launch into such a tirade and as very conscious of the fact that a few stragglers had lingered behind to recommence gawking at me, so I pushed down my sudden influx of anger and forced myself to ask: ‘Where does it lead? How much further will we have to travel before we reach somewhere that we can rest?’

  ‘Not much further at all, I promise,’ Bastien said, and I saw him glance over at the cloaked man with an odd expression on his face- with a question in his eyes, perhaps? Was he wondering if I’d confided in the cripple about him while we’d been walking all day? But the cloaked man didn’t look up from the ground and so Bastien settled his somewhat pained expression back on me. ‘It goes through this mountain and then down and further north underground for a while, before it comes out the side of another, smaller mountain. There’s a camp halfway through it, and another on the far side of The Wastelands- and that’s the point where I’ll be handing the lead over to you, in case you were wondering- on the edge of the road less travelled by all of us.

  I wasn’t ready to think about that anymore than I was to ponder forging a bond with my estranged… shepherd... so I just nodded quickly, somewhat cheered by the prospect of getting to stop and rest soon but not wanting my relief to become apparent to the people still staring at me, probably sizing me up as a potential leader and coming away wanting. ‘Is it safe?’

  ‘Reasonably so,’ Bastien motioned her over to the cave’s curved wall and rapped on it with his golden knuckles, showing how solid the rock was. ‘They call it an avalanche tunnel, you see, for it was built to keep passenger trains safe from landslides and the like in the time before. Though I do not think it was intended to last this long, it has, and will probably stay preserved as it is until the climate shifts enough for humidity to become a factor and compromise the concrete’s integrity. I doubt that will happen for quite some time yet but to be safe, we maintain it regularly. If the pyramids in Giza are still peeking out of the sands, I don’t see why this should fall.’