Until Forever (1st draft)

Part the Ninth

​"Is magic real?" Geneva asked her surreal traveling companion.

​"Magic is neither real nor imagined," Steekbunk answered without looking up at her. "Magic is magic."

​Geneva just shook her head, equally amused and annoyed.

​What other response could I expect?
​
They walked on quietly, listening to a cacophony of unidentifiable and unsettling noises, following a well-traveled trail through the dense undergrowth of the forest that at times seemed to twist and turn needlessly.

​"A straight line would be faster," the girl suggested.

​"Many travelers have journeyed into the woods. The worn path marks the steps of those who finished their journey," Steekbunk countered. Geneva couldn't argue the point.

​"And where will our journey take us?" she asked.

​"There are lessons to be learned, truths to be unveiled, tools to be found, and introductions to be made. Only then can you seek your destination."

​"Home?"

"Yes, Geneva Maxwell. Home."

"So we're going to meet somebody new?" She couldn't imagine what other bizarre beings might await her. "Will they be like you?"

"There is someone I desperately hope you will meet," Steekbunk replied vaguely. "And there is someone I desperately hope you will not."

Geneva didn't like that answer, but before she could persist with her questioning Steekbunk suddenly stopped and swung his ball pack off. He loosened the cords and removed his mug. Then he looked over at her. She stood dumbfounded until he pointed at her pack.

"Oh. Right," she finally said. She removed her own ball pack and began fumbling with the cords in an attempt to loosen them. Even though it seemed like she twisted, pried, stretched, and yanked for an eternity, her pride wouldn't allow her to stop. Stubbornly she continued to battle the complex network of interwoven cords, her fingers slowly growing numb, until finally her left hand was snagged and she couldn't get it out. She snapped her head up to glare at him, embarrassed to the point of fury.

"Really?!" she snarled.

The hairy egg-man strode over without a word, fiddled at the mess for a few seconds, then Geneva was able to pull her hand free and he retrieved her mug from within the pack.

He walked over to a slender tree nearby that appeared to be the only one with a pale, smooth trunk and started knocking on it with one of the mugs. He moved to different locations around the trunk until the hollow knocking suddenly sounded muffled. Then he lurched forward and drove his barbed horn into the soft bark amid a spurt of bright green liquid. When he wrenched his horn back out, the green liquid began dribbling out of the jagged opening. He filled both mugs to the brim and handed one to Geneva. She watched him sip from his mug and sigh with contentment. She was so thirsty from the long walk that her lips felt crusty, so reluctantly she decided to try a sip. It was warm, tart, and incredibly refreshing. In fact, she felt herself sigh as it seemed to circulate through her body, tingling in her chest, cooling her sweaty armpits, and reenergizing her sore muscles. She wanted more! She tipped her mug high and began to guzzle the sap before Steekbunk grabbed her wrist roughly and pulled her hand away from her mouth.

"No!" he shouted at her. The abrupt action caused her to sputter and choke.

"What was that?" she shouted back at him as she wiped the spilled dribbles from her chin.

"If you drink it too fast it will stop your heart," he scolded. She stared back at him silently for a moment.

I could die drinking this juice too fast?

"God, this place is madness!" she yelled to nobody in particular.

They finished their invigorating beverages (slowly!), stored their mugs back in their ball packs, and resumed their hike. No longer distracted by her own endless questions, Geneva became more aware of her surroundings. She hadn't allowed herself to focus on details before, subconsciously homogenizing the visuals into something more acceptable to her fragile state of mind. Now, however, her senses became acutely perceptive of the differences from home.

What stood out the most to the young visitor from another world was the patchwork arrangement of the flora. Although the overall appearance was wild and natural, there almost seemed to be a deliberate intent to keep related plants together. One minute they were walking through an area of ankle-deep groundcovers in varying shapes and colors, some lush and some sparse. Then they'd turn a corner into waist-high growth, some sporting broad waxy leaves that hugged the girl as she passed through them, while others tickled her exposed skin with long needlelike foliage. Even the scents changed from section to section; first sweet and fragrant, then thick and earthy, then foul and peppery. Every section seemed unique, never repeating a previous grouping or even the individual plants. It was as if they were passing through rooms, each featuring a distinct look and smell.

Geneva paused to examine one particularly large blossom because of the way it moved. The pale yellow flower revolved slowly on its long stem like a Ferris wheel, which she assumed was because of a breeze. As she stared longer she realized that every one of the large blossoms in the grouping were moving exactly the same way, at exactly the same slow speed. And then she noticed that the thick stems leading to each flower were pulsing. She was mesmerized by the rhythmic undulations until Steekbunk appeared at her side.

"Morning Spinners," he said.

"Excuse me?" asked Geneva.

"They are called Morning Spinners," he repeated. "Their roots convert water into nourishing jelly. The jelly feeds the blossoms." He pushed the palm of his hand against one of the large flowers. It was moist and squishy, leaving a handprint in its gelatinous form.

"That is weird," she remarked.

"They are essential to the survival of the Loodwauns."

"Loodwauns?" she wondered aloud.

"Loodwaun mothers die during childbirth," Steekbunk continued. "The males must raise the young. The father eats the blossom, which opens the stem for the young to suckle the jelly."

"That is...even more weird."

"We should leave before the Loodwauns come to feed," the hairy egg-man said in his calm melodic voice as he began to walk away. "They are dangerous and always watching. They will attack if they see us as a threat to the Morning Spinners."

"Well then we should certainly move on," Geneva said as she took the lead at a much quicker pace. "I'm not getting attacked over gummy flowers!"

The pair trudged on and on, stopping only occasionally for the (very slow) enjoyment of green sap-juice. Steekbunk seemed indifferent to the physical toll of the all-day hike, but Geneva had become a zombie. Her shoulders were slumped, her head hung forward, her feet dragged on the ground with each step. How long had she been watching the toes of her shoes tracing grooves into the ground? She didn't even have enough energy to ask her companion if they could stop.

The deep woods were only partially lit by the filtered sunlight, so total darkness came very quickly once the sun started to go down. That was when Steekbunk stopped and turned to the girl.

"We will stop to eat and sleep."

"Amen to that," she gasped before letting herself collapse to the ground.