A few birds were chirping, singing their rain songs, which echoed with the melancholy sound throughout the Mystic Wood. Raindrops dripped from the branches, landing on the forest floor with soft plops. The smell of cedar and fir permeated the air, along with damp soil pungent with the aroma of spring.
Each season had a scent. Spring always seemed a little fetid as new growth pushed through the soil, waking up from the long winter’s nap. Summer smelled dusky and dusty, in a lazy sort of way. Everything smelled warm, as the flowers filled the air with their heady intoxicating scent. In the autumn, the smell of smoke and cinnamon filled the air, and the boreal winds carried in the presage of winter. And then in winter, everything smelled crisp and clear, harsh and bracing and sharp.
I paused, looking around, trying to listen for the heartbeat of the forest. Closing my eyes, I whispered a small prayer to Druantia. Please help me understand the forest. Guide me in the way I should go.
The next moment, I felt the urge to pull out the carousel. I raised it up and slowly wound the key so that the unicorns were dancing in a circle. As I held it out, in the palm of my hand, I slowly began to make out a faint sound like flutes playing on the wind. Listening closely, I reassured myself that yes, I was actually hearing what I thought I was. I tried to discern the direction from which the song was coming.
“Do you hear that?” I whispered to Teran, who was standing right behind me.
My aunt nodded, scanning the wood in front of us. “I can hear it. It started when you wound the carousel.”
“Can you tell which direction the music is coming from?”
She closed her eyes, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound, then shook her head. We turned to the others, who were also looking around.
“It’s coming from the northwest,” Peggin said. “Is there a path in that direction?”
I gazed at the undergrowth surrounding us, bordering both sides of the path. Then I paused, spying what looked like an old trail leading to the northwest. It was covered up by ferns and skunk cabbage, but when I pushed them aside, I could see that it had once been an actual path. I took a deep breath and stepped off the main trail.
We pushed our way through the undergrowth, sidestepping the rocks and twigs that littered the ground until we came to a set of twin firs, one on either side of the path. They towered overhead, straight as arrows, massive sentinels in the center of the forest. I knelt by the base to examine their roots, which were knotty and knobby. There was something that drew me to them, and I could practically hear Druantia egging me on.
Then I saw it. There, nestled in between two roots, was a small metal octagon. It was flat, with equidistant ridges spreading out from the center. I stared at it for a moment. It reminded me of something. Then the sound grew louder and, startled, I glanced at the carousel in my hand.
Bingo!
Everything clicked. I slowly fit the carousel down on the metal piece, aligning the furrows on the underside with the ridges on the metal base, and it fit perfectly. The carousel began to spin faster, and I jumped back. Between the trees I could see a web of light. It looked like a spider’s web, only it was made up of shimmering strands.
“What’s that?” Ari whispered.
I shook my head. “I think…it’s a door.”
“To where?” Peggin said.
“To where the Woodlings live? Maybe?” My stomach knotted as I gazed at the shimmering lights. I called out for Esmara, hoping she would be there. Should we go through?
I cannot tell you what lies beyond because I don’t know. But you were led here, so…try. There are some risks in life we need to take.
I glanced back at Teran. “Esmara thinks we should try.”
“I think…you were led to this path. Anybody who’s uncomfortable going should stay here.” My aunt put her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll go with you, sweetie. I have your back.”
I caught my breath and nodded. “All right. Peggin, Ari, Caitlin? Don’t feel you have to come with us. I’d rather you stay if you don’t feel comfortable. I don’t want to be responsible for leading anybody into something they might not come back from…at least in one piece.”
Part of me couldn’t believe I was actually saying this. Part of me sort of believed it was all some weird dream and I’d wake up and we’d be stoned off our asses, watching Lord of the Rings or something equally as fantastic. But the reality was we were here, in the middle of the forest, trying to decide whether to step through what appeared to be a portal between dimensions.
“I’ll go,” Peggin said.
Ari and Caitlin nodded. “We’re game. Let’s do it.”
Swallowing my fear, I turned back to the web of light. “All right.”
Holding my aunt’s hand, I closed my eyes and stepped between the trees, half-expecting to be electrocuted.
The next moment, I opened my eyes and quickly scanned around me. Aunt Teran was standing beside me, and behind us, the two fir trees still stood tall, with the light between them, but we couldn’t see the others. The wood looked exactly the same, except Peggin, Ari, and Caitlin were nowhere to be seen. I cocked my head, staring at the portal, and the next moment, Peggin jumped through, then Ari and Caitlin followed.
“Well, wherever we are, it’s very like the Mystic Wood we just left behind,” I said, startled as my words rang out, then seemed to vanish. It was as though I had shouted into a wind tunnel and the breeze had caught my words up and raced off with them.
The forest looked to be the same, only there was a difference to the way it felt. And there was something else, too. Everywhere I looked, I seemed to see shimmers in the air. I tried to focus on one, but it darted away the moment I thought I had it in sight. The dancing lights flew erratically, zipping like fireflies, but I knew they weren’t like any insect I had ever seen.
“What next?” Ari asked after a moment. Her words, like mine, seemed to float on the breeze for a second and then were snatched away. It was almost as though they were out of sync with the movement of her lips.
“Strange,” I murmured. I closed my eyes again and reached out to Druantia. It felt like this would be a place I could commune with her much easier.
What should we do? I asked.
Move forward. Follow the path. It will lead you to where you need to go, came the reply. It wasn’t Esmara speaking, nor my own subconscious, so I decided to accept that it was Druantia and leave it at that.
I began to walk forward on the path, motioning for the others to follow me. We stayed silent, and I could tell the others felt as uneasy as I did about talking aloud here. Who knew what—or who—was eavesdropping on our conversation?
The path led through the woods, much more clearly delineated than the side path had been on the other side of the portal. Here, it was neatly trimmed back and I kept having visions of wandering through the woods to a gingerbread house. Only this time, I was the witch. So would Hansel and Gretel be the ones living inside in this twisted faerie tale?
We had been walking for about ten minutes when we came to a fork in the road, the two tines leading left and right. I stood there for a moment, closing my eyes, and I “saw” the right side of the road light up. I turned right without a word, hoping I was making the correct decision.
Another ten minutes and I became aware of the fact that we were being followed. Without a word, I held my hand up, coming to a stop, and the others stopped behind me. I turned around, leaning around them to scan the path behind us, but I could see no one there. But I knew—deep in my heart—that we weren’t alone. After a moment, when nothing showed itself, I turned back to the path and continued on.
We had been walking for about half an hour when I spied a pool up ahead. Actually, it was a pond, surrounded by cattails, with waterlilies floating on the surface. The water didn’t seem to be stagnant, like most ponds, and I wondered if it was being fed by an underground stream. Remembering that some of the Fair Folk from legend who lived near ponds and lakes weren’t actually inclined to be fair, I
stopped before we reached the edge of the water.
“Don’t go near the water till we know it’s safe,” I said, the words dissipating as soon as they were out of my mouth.
“I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll be able to find our way back,” Ari said.
“We just turn around and go the way we came. The path is clearly marked.” I shook my head. “There’s a reason we’re being led in this direction—” I paused as the sound of a child crying filled the air. “Hear that?”
“Yeah, but you remember the legends of the kelpies? They lured people in to drown through illusion,” Teran said. Apparently her mind had been headed in the same direction mine had.
“I know, but…no…we need to find the source of the crying, although I do agree we should avoid the pond. The sound is coming from up ahead, to the left—away from the water.” A sudden urge to run hit me, and I began to jog down the path, swerving away from the water. Teran followed me, then the others joined in.
I rounded a curve in the path and skidded to a stop. There, ahead in a clearing, sitting on a large boulder, was the mother Woodling I had seen before. She was holding her baby in one arm—which now looked like a Woodling—and beside her, bundled in what looked like a makeshift car seat, was Zoey, or at least I assumed it was her. The mother Woodling looked up to see us standing there, and she slowly motioned for us to come toward her.
Chapter Fifteen
Teran let out a little gasp. “I never thought I’d see one of the Woodlings,” she whispered. “They’re so…beautiful.”
And beautiful was the word for it, though not beauty like we normally thought of. The mother and baby looked like willow wands twisted together, as though they were walking bundles of twigs. I kept thinking of a wicker chair, where all the canes were neatly laced together.
The mother Woodling had breasts—her baby was suckling on one—and she had almond-shaped eyes that glowed with a leaf-green light. Her lips were bowed, but they looked almost as though they were made of flower petals, and her hair trailed down her back, long streamers of ivy and leaves. I had seen some art created by sculptors that reminded me of this—like a tree come to life, humanoid and yet alien, and so completely natural that it seemed like we should see them in every park and forest.
Zoey, on the other hand, was hiccupping. She looked fully human—rosy cheeks and all. She was strapped into the makeshift seat with what looked like a belt woven of leaves.
I glanced at Teran. “Should I?” My voice shattered the silence of the woodland.
She nodded. “Go. You’re the one that the Woodling gave the carousel to.”
I moved forward slowly, hands out to show I carried no weapons. “Can you understand me?” I asked.
The mother looked up, and in what sounded like perfect English, said, “I can, January Jaxson. So you found the key.”
I nodded, assuming she was talking about the carousel. “I found the key, yes. Is that the real Zoey?” I pointed toward the baby.
“Yes. This is the child my kind stole from the woman.” Her face, so stoic and wooden, suddenly took on contours and I could have sworn she looked about ready to cry. “I stole her back from them. You need to take her away. I have to leave the forest with my child. Tell the woman I thank her—no, value the fact that she looked after my daughter.”
I glanced around, looking for any signs that we were being observed. The feeling that we were being watched had stayed with me, and it made me uneasy. “Are you in trouble?”
The mother seemed to debate for a moment whether she wanted to talk with me, but then she nodded. “I’m in a great deal of danger now, from the Overkings.”
That was a new one. I frowned. “Overkings?”
“Those who control all spirits in the woodlands. The children of the gods.”
Teran stepped forward to stand beside me. “Are you talking about the Tuatha de Dannan?”
Again, the Woodling nodded. “They send us to steal the children, and we’re forced to give up our own as changelings. This child,” she said, pointing to Zoey, “was supposed to be delivered to them next week, after we had settled her in and made certain she was well enough that she wouldn’t grow sickly on them. But I…” She glanced down at her own child, holding it protectively. “I couldn’t…”
“You couldn’t let them take your baby, either. You know how Tabitha feels.” I felt a sudden rush of pity in my heart, and I turned to Teran. “We have to help her. We can’t just take Zoey and leave…” I turned back to the Woodling. “What’s your name?”
“Elsbet. My baby’s name is Zera.”
“We can’t just leave them to fend for themselves.” I glanced at Elsbet. “What happens to you if your people catch you?”
She gave me a calm, collected look. “They will kill me and take my child, and find another to exchange with. It will not be Zoey, however. Once a changeling leaves the Mystic Wood, they can never be collected again by our people. If they escape—however they escape—Druantia gives them a mark of protection.”
I glanced around, wary. “How long do we have before they find you?”
“I cannot say. As soon as they realize the human child is missing, they’ll begin the search. They make rounds three times each day to feed and hold the children. The third round will come near dusk.”
“They only feed the babies three times a day?” Peggin asked, looking horrified.
“The children are taught to stop screaming…” Elsbet said, a catch in her voice. “The tʊəhə deɪ ˈdanən do not condone misbehavior.”
I couldn’t quite catch what she said, but Esmara whispered, The Tuatha de Dannan, in an old tongue.
“If we can help you escape, will you come with us? I know you can leave the Mystic Wood, given you have been in my backyard, and in Tabitha’s house.” I wanted to do something to help her. Elsbet had put her life on the line to return Zoey to Tabitha.
“If I may bring my Zera.”
“Of course,” I said. “Zoey and Zera sound very similar.”
“That’s because they targeted Zoey early on—the human girl has a great deal of latent power, even though she is not witchblood. So when my baby was born, they made me name her ‘Zera,’ so the sounds would be similar enough and she would respond to ‘Zoey.’ ”
“Come with us,” I said as Ari slipped forward to gather Zoey out of the seat. “We’ll leave now. I’m not sure where we can hide you until we can move you, but…”
“She can come back to Whisper Hollow with me,” Peggin said. “I doubt if there’s much communication there—and if we have Woodlings over there, I’ve never seen them.” She turned to Elsbet. “Do you know if there are any of your kind over on the Olympic Peninsula? Near Whisper Hollow?”
Elsbet frowned. “I don’t recognize the name—”
“Near Lake Crescent?” Peggin asked.
That brought a response. Elsbet shivered. “No, the Woodlings leave those forests alone. The forests there are older than the Mystic Wood, and filled with dangers. If there are any Woodlings there, they’re loners.”
“Then if you come with me, you can settle in there. In fact, my boyfriend has a patch of woods right near his house. You could live there. I can’t promise your safety—Whisper Hollow is a dangerous town—but you’ll be in more danger here, I think.”
I had the feeling we needed to get a move on. “Whatever you decide, make it fast. I have a sense that danger’s on the way.”
Elsbet nodded, standing. “I will go with you.”
As we turned to leave the clearing and retrace our steps, there was a sudden sound from the other side of the lea as four very large, very imposing Woodlings stepped out of the tree line. They looked male, from what I could tell, and they also looked determined. They reeked of danger.
“Move!” I said, hustling Elsbet and her baby in front of us. “Hurry up. Head for the portal.”
Ari, carrying Zoey, followed her. Peggin was next, then Teran, Caitlin, and I brought up the rear. Caitlin let out a s
narl.
“Don’t shift,” I warned her. “Bobcats are nothing to tangle with, but I have a feeling these guards could easily take you on and win.”
“Good thinking,” Caitlin said. “Still, you go ahead and I’ll take up the rear. I know martial arts and I’m good in a fight.”
We hustled down the path, past the pond. As we passed by the water, the guards behind us blew a horn and there was a sloshing sound as something—a huge bloblike creature—oozed out of the water. Once on land, hundreds of spidery feet emerged from the pendulous beanbag of a creature, and it headed our way.
“A dekta,” Elsbet shouted. “Don’t let it touch you—its body is covered with a toxic slime.”
Oh lovely, I thought. A dekta, of course! Why not? I found myself longing for last month, when all I had to face was a shadow man and a bunch of hostile ghosts.
We shifted into high gear and were jogging along as fast we could. The dekta, however, could ooze along on its numerous tiny feet like a millipede—and it moved at a good clip.
Too frightened to think about how terrified I actually was, I forced my feet to carry me as fast as I could. Ari, still carrying Zoey, had a good lead, and Elsbet was far faster than I would have imagined her to be. But Peggin, Teran, and I weren’t all that quick on our feet, and Caitlin was sticking near the back to help us.
I glanced over my shoulder. The guards were catching up. They could move faster than we could and it wouldn’t be long before they had hold of us. I wondered what they would do to us. We knew they would kill Elsbet, but what about witchblood?
I tried to think of any spells I might have that I could cast while on the run. The ball of energy the other night had been pure reflex against Ellison’s attack.
“The whistle! What about your whistle?” Teran said as she gasped her way along beside me. I was worried about her. Sixty-seven wasn’t as old as it used to be, but Teran had never been a jogger, and while she exercised, that didn’t mean running through the woods with some crazed wood spirits after us was a piece of cake.
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