Dreaming in the Dark

16

Ange and Jo were in a very different forest from the royal game preserve of the Kingdom. The wood they entered now had never known the touch of axe or fire. There was growth within growth, methuselah trees fell to expose their roots and create new habitats. Fungus colonies established melting pot nations, and insects moved through it all with unflagging purpose. Undergrowth was so thick in many areas that the girls had to cross around, confined to narrow corridors worn by deer and boar.

Though daylight did shine through narrow gaps in the canopy, translucent, note-rich beams, the wood as a whole was dim.

When they came to a break, where rain water had filled the hollow of a fallen giant, they took a rest and shared a meal of rice.

The wood had a laziness about it, a closeness like privacy and care. They were both exhausted from their trek through the stone underworld, and the steady chirp and rustle of insects was enough to lull them to sleep. When they woke again, it was that between time when night and day forgive each other their differences. The bowers had pollinated darkness around them, so Ange raised the face of her lantern again. Folly still pulsed orangely inside.

There was a groan like the wind above them, and they saw a giant being move among the trees. The creature was formed of liquid night, star-like pinpricks floating just beneath its surface. It didn't notice them, but went on its way with the plodding rhythm of a pendulum.

"How pretty." Jo said.

"I want to see where it goes." Ange said, clutching the lantern.

They followed it as best they could in the thickness of the wood. It had no difficulties of its own, as it appeared to flow over and between the trunks of trees, and the canopy bent around it with that ghostly moan. They did they best they could to keep it within sight, and when that failed, to follow the sound o its moan.

They were scratched and scored by twigs and thorns, their hair two nests of nettles, when the confines of the wood finally broke upon a lake.

They saw the night-walker stop at the shore, further in the water there was a small island with an oak tree tall as the creature, its multitudinous roots riveted in sand. The night-walker bowed its head all the way to the ground, and then continued to bow, so that its liquid body sank into the soil until it was gone.

"You shouldn't be here."

They startled at the voice, and discovered they were observed by a man the size of a thumb sitting on a nearby branch. He was dressed smartly, with a cap and jacket all the quiet colors of the wood, and a brass horn rested on his lap.

"This isn't a place for mortal folk." He said.

"How do you know we're mortal?" Jo asked.

"Because I can hear your hearts in your bodies." He said. "What a foolish place to keep them."

"Well," Jo said, "I suppose it can be inconvenient."

"Who are you!" Ange hissed. "Why aren't we supposed to be here?"

"No need to be rude." The man tapped his horn. "My name is Lucifer, you will have heard of me." At their blank expressions, he went on. "Truly? Never heard of Lucifer? The Morningstar? Herald of the Dawn? Egads, you're both imbeciles. Without me, the ritual cannot take place, the ritual you are not supposed to witness."

Angie snatched the little man and thrust him in the lantern, shutting the face of it behind him.

"He seemed important." She said in explanation. In the clearing the stars provided enough light to give them an outline of the goings on. Other forms, some human and some not, were gathering around the shore.