Forests of the Heart

by Charles de Lint

  “Watch it,” he warned them. “It’s slippery.”

  They made a comical sight, working their way to the front door, hanging onto each other as their feet kept threatening to slip out from under them. Ellie kept an eye out for the antlered men they’d seen earlier, standing half-hidden in the trees alongside the highway, but she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Only the ice, so thick now that the cedars were bent almost in two, great arcs of encrusted limbs that touched the ground in places. They hadn’t seen the manitou since the pack of dogs had given up their chase earlier in the night. One moment the antlered men had been there, mysterious shapes standing guard against the intrusion of the Gentry, the next there were only the trees with nothing lying between them but ice-covered snow drifts.

  Tommy knocked on the door, then opened it and ushered them into a warm, dark hall. There was a smoky smell in the air, mixed with other less easily defined odors. Sage, Ellie guessed. And maybe cedar.

  “Smudgesticks,” Tommy said, as though reading her mind. “Whenever I smell that mix of sage, cedar, and sweetgrass, I know I’m home.”

  Following his example, they hung their jackets on pegs, removed their boots, then followed him into a candlelit room where three women were waiting for them. Ellie recognized Sunday and nodded hello. Tommy introduced the others as Zulema and Nancy.

  It wasn’t hard to peg Zulema as Sunday’s sister. She was a little taller, face not quite so broad, but the family resemblance was there. There was also a familiarity that she hadn’t sensed with Sunday.

  “I feel like I’ve seen you before,” Ellie said as they were introduced.

  “Probably at one of Angel’s benefits. Verity and I help out with them every year.”

  Ellie nodded. “And around the office, too.” She turned to Tommy. “How come you never introduced me before?”

  Tommy shrugged. “Didn’t think of it.”

  More likely, Ellie thought, he’d just wanted to keep her off-balance, quoting them the way he did, but making her feel that they didn’t really exist. Tommy could drag a joke out way longer than anyone she knew.

  Aunt Nancy sat in a rocker by the woodstove. Her features were Native, but with less family resemblance than the other two women shared. Her skin was dark, like coffee with just a dash of milk, and she had the blackest eyes Ellie had ever seen. They appeared to be all pupil, or at least the irises were so dark it made little difference. Though she was obviously much older than either of her sisters, Tommy’s description of formidable had been an apt one.

  The shadows hung thick on the wall behind the old woman and for a moment they seemed to take on the shape of an enormous spider reaching out towards where Ellie, Hunter, and Tommy were standing. Ellie stifled a gasp and started to take a step backwards, but then one of the candles flickered, the shadows moved, and the spider was gone. The impression of a spider, Ellie told herself as Tommy and Hunter looked at her curiously.

  Aunt Nancy gave her a toothy smile, then turned to Sunday.

  “You had that much right,” she said. “Lots of medicine in this one. I’m not surprised the dog boys chose her.”

  “I’m sorry?” Ellie said.

  Aunt Nancy returned her attention to her. “Don’t be. You can’t be responsible for what others want from you.”

  “No. That is, what did you mean about medicine and … dog boys?”

  But she had a good idea without needing to be told. The medicine was what Sunday and Bettina had been talking about, some kind of magic that they insisted she had. The dog boys could only be these Gentry who thought she’d made some kind of bargain with them.

  A flicker of humor touched Aunt Nancy’s dark eyes. “You don’t really need to be told, do you?”

  “No,” Ellie said slowly. “I guess not.”

  “Well, I could use a translation,” Hunter said.

  Aunt Nancy’s gaze settled on him.

  “I smell blood on you,” she said.

  “He had a run-in with one of the Gentry,” Tommy said.

  “Is that what those-who-came are calling themselves these days?” Aunt Nancy asked. “I hope you made him suffer.”

  “Aunt Nancy’s not so enamored with these Irish manitou,” Tommy explained to the others. “Not to mention the Irish themselves.”

  The older woman frowned at Tommy. “They didn’t make any friends by bringing the dog boys over on their ships.”

  “You can’t blame the Gael for these Gentry,” Sunday said. “It’s not like we don’t have our own monsters.”

  Zulema nodded. “Windigo. Mishipeshu.”

  Aunt Nancy continued to frown, but nodded in grudging assent. Then she added, “Although our spirits don’t go looking to make trouble.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Zulema said. “I forgot. We’re all such innocents, we Kickaha and our manitou.”

  It seemed to be an old argument. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence broken only by the crackle of the fire in the woodstove, then Sunday stood up.

  “Sit,” she told Ellie and her companions. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll put on some tea. Then you can tell us what brought you.”

  Over tea and homemade corn biscuits, they related everything that happened to them so far. Most of the telling was left up to Ellie, though Hunter filled her story in with his own experiences and what he’d learned from Miki. Towards the end, Ellie kept having to stifle yawns. The combination of the herb tea, the long night’s drive, and the smoky warmth of the room was making her drowsy.

  “We can help you,” Sunday said when Ellie finally finished up.

  Aunt Nancy nodded in agreement. “The first thing we need to do is get that mask away from the dog boys. Spirits we can protect you from—for a time, anyway—but the creature that mask would call up is deep, old trouble.”

  “I didn’t think Green Men were evil,” Hunter said. “At least not from the little I know about them.”

  “They’re not,” Zulema said. “They simply are, neither good or bad. But they’ll take direction from whoever wears the mask. If a good man were to call that old spirit up, no one would have to worry. The thing is, good men don’t reach for that kind of power in the first place.”

  “But if someone like Donal were to put it on …” Ellie said.

  “From what you’ve been telling us, we could have a monster on our hands.”

  Aunt Nancy stood up and stretched. “But first we need to get some rest. I’ve seen you yawning, girl,” she added as Ellie began to shake her head. “You’ll be no good for anything, asleep on your feet.”

  “I doubt the highway’s even passable now anyway,” Tommy said.

  Ellie looked around the room, searching for an ally. “But…”

  “Those-who-came can’t do anything until you’ve fixed up the mask for them,” Aunt Nancy said. “Isn’t that what you said?”

  “I don’t know for sure …”

  “And they won’t come looking for you here. Trust us in this. Get some sleep. If the weather doesn’t let up, there are other ways to get to the city, but right now all the dog boys’ll be able to do is sit around and sniff each other’s asses.”

  “If you say so,” Ellie said.

  Her tired eyes went wide as the shape of that giant spider seemed to grow out of the shadows behind Aunt Nancy’s chair once more.

  “Don’t worry,” the older woman said. “I know a thing or two about spirits.”

  Ellie swallowed dryly and let herself be led away to a bedroom. She thought she’d lie staring at the ceiling for hours, but she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  2

  Miki woke with one side of her face resting on a soft shoulder, the other feeling a little numb from the cold. She and Fiona had fallen asleep on the couch, the comforter from Fiona’s bed pulled up around their chins. Sitting up now, she felt Fiona stir awake beside her.

  “This sucks,” Fiona mumbled.

  Miki nodded. It was cold enough in the apartment that they could see their
own breath.

  “The power’s still off,” she said.

  “Figures. I could kill for a cup of coffee.”

  Miki pushed aside the comforter and walked over to the window, hugging herself to stop from shivering. On the couch, Fiona gathered the comforter closer about herself.

  “Anything out there?” she asked.

  Miki shook her head. “Just the rain.”

  “So we made it through the night.” When Miki turned to look at her, Fiona added, “I don’t suppose these Gentry hole up during the day like vampires are supposed to?”

  “Not that I’ve ever heard.”

  “Great. As if. So now what we do?”

  “We could go by the store and see if it’s got power,” Miki said.

  “But we wouldn’t open for business?”

  Miki smiled. “Only idiots would be out today if they didn’t have to be. I’m betting the whole city’s shut down, so who would we sell anything to?”

  “At least we’d be warm.”

  “We could bring a kettle,” Miki said, “and the makings for coffee.”

  Fiona threw back the comforter and stood up. “You just said the magic words.”

  It turned out they weren’t the only idiots braving the weather this morning, though there certainly weren’t many people out and about. The downtown streets were like a skating rink, all except for a few of the major thoroughfares like Williamson and Lee that the city work crews kept plowing and salting on a regular, rotating basis, but there was little traffic even on them. Most of the businesses they passed were closed—confirming Miki’s feelings. So they wouldn’t bother to open Gypsy Records either. She and Fiona would just get warm, have a coffee, and listen to some sounds while they waited for the weather to break.

  It took them forever to get to the store, slipping and sliding, wishing for the skates neither of them even owned as they shuffled along like a pair of old ladies. When they finally arrived, not only were they still cold, but they were wet as well from the steady drizzle of freezing rain. They found some fellow idiots waiting for them outside the store: Adam and Titus, huddled up against the front door where they had a little bit of protection from the rain. They nursed cardboard cups of take-out coffee that smelled like heaven when Miki caught a whiff.

  “Hey, it’s about time you showed up,” Adam said. He pushed the wet mop of his normally spiky hair away from his eyes. “We should have been open, like, a half-hour ago.”

  He was wearing his leather vintage motorcycle jacket as usual, which always amused Miki since the closest he’d ever been to owning a two-wheeled vehicle was a bicycle. Jeans and sneakers, with the inevitable T-shirt under the jacket, completed his wardrobe, all of which added up to his being as cold and wet as they were, though his discomfort was from a fashion choice. Not that he chose to be miserable; he just had to look cool. Bedraggled, dripping icy water, sniffling from a running nose, didn’t really cut it as cool so far as Miki was concerned. But then she doubted that she or Fiona looked any more charming. She wondered if he or Titus had been shivering in a cold apartment all night the way they had.

  “Open for who?” Miki asked.

  He had to think about that for a moment. “For the principle of it,” he said.

  Fiona laughed. “As if.”

  “So why are you here?” Titus asked.

  “The power went off just before midnight,” Miki said, “and we’ve been freezing ever since.”

  Adam waved a hand towards the store. “Well, there’s light and heat inside. All we need is a key.”

  “Which I have.”

  “I’m going for coffee,” Fiona said. “The Monkey Woman’s open, right?”

  Adam held up his cup and nodded. “I don’t think Ernestina’s ever been closed for anything.”

  “That’s true,” Fiona said. “I’m so glad we don’t have to go the instant coffee route. You want anything, Miki?”

  “Coffee, toasted fried egg sandwich, and a pack of smokes.”

  She handed over a couple of bills to pay for her share, then produced her store key and opened the door. While Fiona set off for the Monkey Woman’s Nest, the rest of them trooped inside the store.

  “I’ll get the alarm,” Titus said.

  Miki nodded. She shut the door and smiled. It was dry. It was warm. Breakfast was on its way. And to her surprise, she was even happy to have found Adam and Titus waiting on the stoop of the door. Would wonders never cease?

  “What are you grinning about?” Adam asked.

  “Small pleasures,” she told him.

  She walked by him and went behind the counter. Switching on the sound system, she put on a CD by the Specials, one of Adam’s favorite Ska groups.

  “You’re not feeling well, are you?” he said as the infectious music woke on the sound system.

  Miki took off the knapsack she’d borrowed from Fiona to carry her Hohner, the kettle, and makings for coffee, carefully setting it in a corner where no one would step on it.

  “Life’s shite, and then you die,” she said.

  “Your point being?”

  “I find that unacceptable, so I’ve decided to have a more positive outlook on everything.”

  Adam shook his head and started for the back room. Before he reached the door, Titus popped his head out.

  “So should we keep working on the returns?” he asked.

  “Can if you want,” Miki told him. “I’m not expecting any shipments or customers myself, so I’m just going to curl up with a magazine and enjoy the warmth, bugger the idea of business.”

  Titus gave her a confused look.

  “She’s gone all warm and hopeful,” Adam told him. “It’s the new Miki. Apparently aliens have stolen the old one away.”

  “Oh,” Titus said.

  He gave her another look, considering this time.

  “Well, that’s all right, then,” he said and disappeared back into his shipping-receiving lair.

  Later Miki was sitting by herself at the counter, flipping through an issue of the British music magazine Mojo. Coltrane was on the CD player, but no one was complaining—though perhaps the fact that they were all hiding out in the back room was some sort of statement as to what they actually thought of the album. Their loss. She wasn’t going to let it spoil her hard-earned good mood. She’d had her breakfast and a coffee, and she was finally warm enough to consider standing out by the front door to have a cigarette.

  “Is it true?”

  She started at Adam’s voice. She hadn’t heard him come out from the back.

  “Is what true?” she asked.

  “What Fiona was saying, about how some goblins trashed your apartment.”

  Miki shook her head. “They weren’t goblins.”

  “Then what were they?”

  Miki sighed. She really didn’t have the strength to go through it all over again.

  “I’m not making fun of you,” Adam told her. “I’m just curious. I mean, it’s a weird story.”

  “Very,” she agreed.

  “So what were they like? You’ve got Fiona all freaked about them.”

  “They’re just these…”

  Movement by the window caught Miki’s attention, pulling her gaze away from Adam’s face. When her head turned, his own gaze followed hers. Miki’s heart sank, good mood fled like the pathetic lie it had been. For there they were, the original bad pennies, standing in a line in front of the store window. The Gentry in all their mean-spirited glory. Miki swallowed, her throat feeling thick.

  “That… that’s them?” Adam asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “They look like something out of a bad spaghetti Western with those dusters.”

  They’re not funny, Miki wanted to say, but one of the Gentry kicked the door, and there was no more time for talk. The door swung open, crashing against a rack of CDs that Miki had thought of moving all morning because they seemed to be too close to the door. The rack tumbled over, spitting CDs all over the floor.

  �
�Hey!” Adam said as the Gentry came sauntering in.

  Miki grabbed his arm when he moved towards them and pulled him back.

  “Don’t,” she told him.

  The Gentry filled the room with their presence, laying a heaviness on the air, a promise of violence that made it hard to breathe. There were savage lights in their eyes and they smelled like wolves.

  “So she was very specific,” one of the hard men said in a thickly accented voice. He seemed to be the leader. “Your sculptor, that is. Very specific about who was under her protection and who wasn’t. Funny thing, though. She didn’t say anything about you lot. Makes you bloody wonder, doesn’t it? Here you go, thinking you’re all friends, and then she just abandons you like the shite you are.”

  “What… what the hell’s he talking about?” Adam said.

  “Blood for blood,” the hard man said.

  “Nobody here’s hurt you,” Miki told him.

  “But he did,” the hard man said. “Your man who owns this place. And he’s under her protection.”

  He was talking about Ellie, Miki realized, clueing in to the sculptor reference, but otherwise she didn’t know what he was on about with this protection business. Still, she knew who’d been hurt. Hunter had told her last night about the dead Gentry he’d left in her apartment, how the others had chased him through the streets until he’d managed to run into Tommy and Ellie.

  “So that leaves you lot to pay,” one of the other hard men said.

  “Miki… ?” Adam began.

  He turned, looking to her for direction. But she had nothing to say. What could she say? Her own fear had already banished any bravado she might have been able to muster. Yesterday’s red anger at what they’d done to her apartment was somebody else’s memory, somebody else’s raw emotion. All she could do was hold onto the edge of the counter and pray for some miracle that wasn’t going to come.

  3

  Kellygnow, like the other estates on the hill, had lost its power and phone services overnight, but Bettina had already been asleep when the lines went down. She didn’t know anything about it until she woke to a cold room the next morning and suspected the worst. Shivering, she dressed and made her way down to the kitchen where she found Nuala and a number of the other residents gathered around the big cast-iron stove that stood in one corner of the room. Bettina had never seen the stove lit before. She hadn’t even known it actually worked. But she was glad of it now. The warmth of the kitchen was like a welcoming embrace as she came in from the cold hall.