The Wildest Woods

by S. K Munt

  19.

  The Wildlands

  Larkin

  Broken trees? Sam whipped the thought out of my head immediately. Arial said something to you about broken trees, didn’t she?

  She did, and I can see them- well, I think that I can see them but it’s hard to tell because it’s so misty! Heart beginning to race again, I looked back up at the place I’d fallen from, searching for Sam but finding only ice and snow that I was forced to address instead. I’m assuming that’s the way I’m supposed to go, so get everyone down here, okay? If you go to the innermost point of this crevice, you’ll probably be able to walk in just fine because it’s a gradual slope. No jumping though- there are rocks under it all- and no crowding around the edges- you don’t want to cause a cave in.

  I can do as you ask but I don’t like letting you go ahead-

  And yet, it’s my lot in life, remember? I pushed up to my knees and began to fasten my cloak again, locking my gaze on those trees as I started gingerly walking across the ice towards them. If I can handle it, so can you, my friend. Now, stop telling me how worried you are about me, and let me do what I have to do! I’m scared enough as it is without dragging your fear along with me, got it?

  Fine. But be careful Larkin- you’re literally one in ten million.

  I looked heavenward as I began wading out of the last of the thick snow and moved onto the solid ice, heading for the trees now instead of the hills. They were the strangest looking trees I’d ever seen, and were growing in an odd little cluster about three hundred metres to the north in the middle of absolute nothingness, making me wonder if they were all grouped together on a tiny island or something because there was nothing to suggest that there was a woods anywhere near them. They were taller than the conifers that had grown in perfectly orchestrated rows back around Arcadia, but twig-like without a leafy bough to be seen. They looked broken due to the fact that there were a lot of short branches sticking out- branches so small that they looked like twigs through the condensed air- and because they were leaning at the strangest angle, every single one of them! It was almost as though the wind had blown against them so hard for so long that they’d begun to tilt like dominoes, before freezing at an angle so sharp that every second that they stayed like that was defied gravity.

  There was nothing about that group of trees to suggest that they would come in handy for anything, for those leafless branches would not offer shelter from the elements in any way, but they were definitely a distinct landmark, so I stopped worrying about why I was walking towards them, and just walked towards them, allowing my feet to take over for awhile while I gave the decision-making part of my brain a well-earned rest.

  Witch said to walk to trees- I walk to trees.

  I could hear Sam muttering his thoughts to himself and bellyaching over the frustrating task of giving seventy people that couldn’t understand him specific orders behind me, but I tuned him out and alternated my focus between staring at the ice ahead of me, and then looking up at the trees again to make sure that I didn’t stray off course. My depth perception was out of kilter thanks to the snow and mist, but it seemed like it was going to take me about five minutes to get to where I was going, and though that wasn’t a long walk by any means, it was probably far enough from Sam to sever our mental link, and that was cause for concern.

  You’re still covered… Sam said then, and I smiled. What? You think I’d forget about you that easily, Larkin of Nowhere? But before I could answer, he went back to cursing Trajan for starting a snowball fight, and his thoughts faded in seconds as he redirected them at the disobedient orphan.

  Out of curiosity more than anything else, I began to silently call out to Satan instead- testing the communication line between us, if you would- to see if she hadn’t yet generated enough power to at least whisper into my mind... but I didn’t hear anything back from her, and that made me chew on my lower lip anxiously. She’d said that she’d needed a good rest, but she’d gone from being omnipresent to unreachable, despite the fact that I was obeying her orders word for word, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I had already failed The Sequestered so much that they’d lost faith in her completely, evaporating her strength. Was that the case? Should I have been encouraging their orgies and allowing all of that needless animal slaughter to happen too? Or was she just off somewhere, fucking with someone else and paying me no mind?

  So lost was I in my thoughts, that I didn’t realise that I was in God’s presence until I damn near mowed him down.

  For the first few seconds I was absolutely convinced that I was looking directly at our perfect creator or at least a statue of him, but then I realised that the moving piece of art in front of me was an actual person and every nerve ending in my body fizzled, causing my muscles to seize up and my brain to immediately go into lockdown.

  Holy shit!

  For lack of a better idea and most of my muscle control, I melted into a crouched position directly in front of the strange man, gaping up at him with eyes that were stretched so widely in astonishment that they were stinging. It occurred to me straight away that I was probably hallucinating thanks to the lack of oxygen and the hard fall I’d just experienced, but when I looked down at the powdered ice I saw the tread of the man’s boots imbedded into it as footprints and I blinked rapidly before crawling back a foot or two, knowing that not even I had the imagination to give a hallucination footprints! What was going on? How was this happening? I’d pinch myself, but I hadn’t felt my skin in over an hour so it wouldn’t prove much.

  The man hadn’t seen me yet because he was too busy craning his neck to look over the rim of the lake above and behind me and because the hyperborean air had more form and texture and power than even I did, but I was terrified, and feared that my pounding heart was loud enough to give my position away. Under any other circumstance I knew that I probably would have scorched him with reflexive fireballs, but I’d hit the ground so fast that my scalding fists had actually sunk into the snow beneath me with a hiss that apparently wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the wind. I didn’t know if my torch was still lit or not, but I’d dropped it so that the flame had fallen behind me, and so that hadn’t snagged his attention yet either.

  Oh...my...god...who...is…that?! What do I do? Sam, can you hear me? If you can MAYDAY!

  But Sam didn’t respond and the man continued to scan the terrain behind and above me with narrowed eyes that were the exact same shade as the bright grey sky, while I remained as frozen to the spot, probably looking like a rime-coated gargoyle thanks to the way that my mouth and eyes were still open in a silent scream.

  Stay still! He probably hasn’t noticed you because your fur is pure white, but if you move suddenly, you’ll catch his eye and you can’t risk that! Look at how many blades he has strapped to him! Three... Four? This is a man that’s used to killing things and quickly, and you’re a murderer’s prime target! Stay low, silent and still or the snow will end up stained in your angelic but mortal blood!

  Despite my duress, some part of me was capable of noting the fact that terrifying or not, that man just may have been the most spectacular-looking creature that I’d ever seen in my life- even more so than the healer, Heath, back in Eden. Tall and broad as he was, it wasn’t really a surprise that he hadn’t noticed me down there on the snow in front of his knees, and I would have bet good money that he could see all the way to Janiel from where he stood because he was closer to seven feet than six, I was sure of it.

  Keep scanning the horizon! I willed him silently as I stretched back slowly so that my belly was resting on my knees. Then, I slowly started to drag my stretched fingers back and hopefully completely out of his sight. Don’t look down please! Do NOT look down!

  The man- or God- was wearing a fitted outfit, the likes of which I’d never seen on any other man before from any culture, and it had evidently been tailored to accommodate every one of his muscles because I could make them all out through the supple but tight-fitting leather armour
that he was wearing and his skin-tight breeches. Seeing as how I had nothing better to do but bow to the snow like I was on an antiquated prayer rug, I raked my gaze from his bulging quads, up his impossibly narrow hips and over his prominent chest to a face that looked like it had been chiselled from ice and actually felt every part of me shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. I was disgusted by that stupid, female reaction to this mountain of sculpted testosterone (had I learned nothing?!) but I honestly did not think that a heterosexual man would have been less impressed in my position, so I forgave myself for the momentary lapse in sensibility.

  Beautiful… I thought, studying him the way I had studied the bear earlier- with shock and awe. Perfect, actually. How many ugly people were born so this guy could claim so much splendour for himself? The beard’s got to go though… I’m not a fan of that.

  It was no wonder why I’d mistaken him for God: thanks to his tawny skin and longish, blondish hair he was both gold and silver... and because of his delicate features and formidable size he was both masculine and feminine- but radiating so much primal male energy and heat that I was surprised that the snow wasn’t melting everywhere he looked, beckoning forth the spring. Only days had passed since I’d sworn off romance for life, but when he rubbed some frost off his succulent, blood-flushed lower lip with a thumb the size of three of my fingers and then suckled on it absently as he gazed around with those slate-coloured eyes, I imagined his mouth on me and flushed so much that the snow beneath my fists sizzled again. Beard or no beard, (in his defence it was only a thin, gold and silver one that lined his incredible jaw with a coat of fuzz) I was fairly certain that he was better looking than all of the Barachiels, but then again, in that moment I honestly could not recall what they had looked like and I was glad for it- so glad!

  All right God, faith momentarily restored. What else you got?

  Then he moved, and fear replaced awe, making me vibrate like someone had run one hundred watts through me. Actually, it felt like Kohén had touched me, and that made my muscles clench up even more. But the man still did not see me there and so I watched, fascinated, as he turned away and knelt on the ice, sweeping snow off the glassy surface of the frozen water beneath it and staring down at it.

  ‘Well?’ he asked out loud, and my eyebrows lifted in surprise. He was talking to the water? Why? ‘I did as you asked, and you’ve led me to certain death… if this is what you wanted then congratulations, for you have broken my foolish spirit and blackened my soul...’

  Sweet Jesus he had an accent, and it was so rich and melodic that it made me feel the way butter feels when it hits a scalding skillet. I commanded myself to breathe, but I could not breathe too deeply for fear that he’d see the mist that would spiral out of my mouth after.

  ‘… However, you will not claim either my spirit or my soul as your trophies, for I intend to spend my last few minutes on this earth praying for God’s forgiveness. And he will forgive me for following you, Hel- I know that as well as I know my heart!’

  My mouth popped open again- was he speaking to who I thought he was speaking to? Why had he called her Hel, though?

  ‘But before I depart I will remind you of one thing: when I die, you will lose the faith of my crew too! We will freeze to death and soon for their captain’s lapse in judgement and I will take the fall for that, but you will burn to ashes under the heat of our hate once we are all safely in Heaven!’

  His men? Captain? Oh my GOD, is he a…? No!

  The man slowly rose, kicking the slushy snow back over the ice. ‘Tis your loss and not mine, for the heat of my love and devotion would have set God’s fallen kingdoms on fire! Ask Iana- she understood that better than you will ever have the right to!’ He kicked at the snow. ‘She understood my significance, and it is to your own detriment that you have opted to treat me like a toy!’

  Then he was striding away, parting the mist that immediately began to close behind his thick, burgundy cape, and I bowed my head to the snow, forcing it to cool my brow while I took my first long, deep and painless breath in five minutes- a breath so indulgent that my oxygen-deprived head swum. My mind was racing with the beginning and ends of a million thoughts that were swirling like those icy winds, but there was no time to contemplate them, because my instincts were pulling on my limbs like puppet strings and before I knew it I was pushing up off the ground and staggering after the beautiful man- not around the water now but over it, safe in the knowledge that if it could support his weight than it could certainly support mine. As I passed the part of ice he’d polished, I saw that it was shining like glass- like a mirror, and my theory was confirmed. I knew why someone would talk to a mirror and speak of dashed hopes, broken promises and God’s vengeance. I knew it because I had done it before -while talking to Satan.

  The man I was following was almost certainly one of my mother’s followers too- or had been until she had led him here.

  No, it wasn’t just a man I was following, I knew that now. It was a pirate- and a pirate captain no doubt, and likely a Nephilim too because human men did not come packaged that well. I was also fairly certain that I was foolishly following him over that frozen body of water, not to a cluster of collapsed trees- but to a ship. And if a ship had gotten in here then, well, it was very likely that I was no longer walking across a river- but a bay. We weren’t on the coast yet, but I would have bet good money that we weren’t far off of one!

  WHAT? You’re following WHO to a WHAT? Sam’s inner voice had almost no opacity, but his terror gave it the strength it needed to pursue me through the mist. I check out for three minutes and you’re tracking a pirate captain? Larkin this isn’t fucking funny, get back here!

  I can’t! I called back, my heart beginning to pound harder again as my breath and steps grew shorter and less certain. I’m supposed to meet him here, Sam, I feel it in my bones!

  You’re feeling concussion and whiplash in your bones, not a higher calling! The fact that there’s another person here at all is cause for alarm… but a PIRATE? Red Flag, Whittaker! Retreat!

  I’ll be all right Sam, and don’t call me Whittaker! I called back to him, focusing my eyes on the dark shadow of the man through the nebulous gloom before me. He can’t see me, so I can follow him safely-

  You’re never safe around pirates, you half-wit! You thought the Barachiel’s were bad? Well these guys won’t have the good manners to wait their turn, Larkin, you’ll be passed around like-

  Stop it! I actually spun around and glared back in the direction I’d come from, meaning to shut him up for good. I understood Sam’s concern and yes, I knew that he did know what he was talking about… but something deep inside me told me that the man that I was following needed my help, and that I would be safe if I provided it. I would be careful, of course, and Sam had every right to fret that I would not, but I couldn’t allow him to attempt to control my actions by playing on my fears of being raped just because he didn’t understand what was motivating me to take such a big risk. I’m the leader here for a reason, remember? I-

  But I stopped thinking when I realised that I couldn’t see the rim of the bay anymore. In fact, I couldn’t see anything but mist, or hear anything but a low, threatening rumble that sounded like thunder, that was coming from beneath my feet and not above my head. The ground started to tremble then and I yelped and moved back a few steps, hearing the ice groan and feeling terrified that the ice was about to swallow me whole- and then actually gasped in a lungful of icy air when from my right, several large shadows appeared out of the mist and charged right at me,

  Oh! I ducked, narrowly being missed by one stampeding hoof and almost following under another, mindful of the fact that other people were shouting out too. Oh hell...!

  What? What is that noise?!

  Horses! It’s those horses again! I’m being stampeded!

  Sam continued to scream things at me- out loud and internally, but I could do nothing but duck and cover my head and pray that I wasn’t about to be cru
shed. The ice groaned under the weight of the animals as they galloped past me but it held with only a few cracks appearing, and though my heart was beating so fast that I was afraid it was going to fail, I noticed after about twenty seconds that the horses weren’t coming close to me at all, but parting around me. Astonished, I slowly began to unfold and though they continued to stream past me at an awe-inspiring pace, they did not display any aggression or fear towards me whatsoever, and I was rendered thoughtless, breathless and speechless by that.

  Wow… I turned when I realised that the herd was thinning out, watching the last leave me in the white dust, enjoying the up-close view that I’d been desperate to see the day before, while thinking that I’d never seen such shaggy horses before in my life! Where had they come from and where were they going now? Just… wow.

  Lark? I heard Sam ask. Lark? Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming-

  ‘Hey!’ the cry was both startled and distinct against that suddenly very quiet day, and I jerked around to face forward again, a shudder going through me when I realised that the path in the mist was now wide enough to put both myself and the ship in clear view of one another. It was bobbing as though water was still flowing beneath it, but it was lilting to the northeast and seemed to be trapped within the ice that seemingly surrounded it, which was why I’d mistaken its masts for broken trees on a tiny island. A whole bunch of people (all apparently men) were labouring to chip away at the ice, and others were trying to build up a ring of small fires around the vessel as though they hoped to melt it free of winter’s grasp, but it was pretty obvious to me that they were failing in all of their endeavours, because parts of the ship appeared to be frosting over too.

  It was a beautiful ship, one forged from timber and sheets of protective steel complete with multiple Baroque-esque masts and embellished with golden details, but what really caught my eye- what made me forget the fact that pirates were spotting me and drawing their weapons in readiness of a fight I couldn’t win- was the ship’s figurehead. It wasn’t a bare breasted mermaid with her hair flowing in the breeze, no- it was a dragon, a golden dragon that jutted out over the ice and made it look less like a pirate ship, and more like a Viking longboat from times gone by.