The Wishing Tree - Book Two [Completed]

The Woods of Alarum - Part 22

We're back to what feels like wandering aimlessly and I scan the sky and trees for beasts. Rocco, Riven and Mason agreed that time was more important than risk factors and we're headed for the Woods of Alarum, the darkest part of the realm, a swampy rainforest that, if navigated correctly, takes us almost to the base of the tree. When we reach the outskirts, Mason pauses and we all stop.

      "Weapons out. I'm the only one who ever branches out alone. You four are always in twos at the very least and if we're ambushed by something, I'm the only one who takes unnecessary risks. It's thick, dark and dangerous in there." He looks each of us in the eyes as we dig our weapons out of various pockets and hiding places. He uses one of his hands like a reel, condescendingly encouraging, "Queenie, repeat it back to me. What'd I say?"

      I roll my eyes. "Don't be an idiot."

      He laughs. "Close enough."

      There's been a weird tension between us all morning and I don't know how to get around it without railroading him into telling me everything I need to know. I look towards the canopy of darkness that forms a line on the horizon. They all warned me that the Woods of Alarum has its own ecosystem, its own weather and it feeds off the fear of trespassers. Doesn't sound like there'll be any problems with that. I sigh, trying to ease the tension from my shoulders.

      Clara ambles up beside me with her bow and arrow. "You've got this, Queenie."

      I let my fingers run over my scar. There's heat coming off it, faint, reassuring and terrifying: the slow leak.

      "You know how I know him, don't you?" I ask her.

      One side of her mouth quirks up. "You're tenacious. I'll give you that." She turns and looks me in the face and there's a resolve there. "It won't help you to know; whatever you think it'll solve, it won't." She looks back towards the woods. "I was there; it was ugly. But, you're both different now, so I'd leave it alone."

      "Whatever happened, was it my fault? Can you answer me that at least?"

      She looks into the woods for a long time and watches as the boys start to head in. Finally, she speaks, "Fault is subjective and judgy. I'm trying to be better." She raises her bow and starts to follow Rocco, Riven and Mason.

      It was my fault. Great. At a snail's pace, I bring up the rear, wondering if all my lives have been one big screw up.

####

      The darkness feels stifling, almost like we're suffocating in the lack of light. We aren't blind, but it's the closest I've come to blindness for such an extended period of time. A few times, Mason's used his hands as a small flashlight, but he claims the light attracts things we don't want to meet. I don't understand how he's navigating, but I wonder whether it's some Lord of this Realm thing. We're quiet, weapons drawn, tense, walking at a slow, careful pace.

Something rustles in the trees overhead and we all stop, looking up, bows drawn, knives out, backs together. Something drops from the trees a few feet from us, but it lands so lightly that I wonder whether I imagined it. Beside me, Clara and Riven radiate tension and I know whatever it is, it's real enough.

Before I can think about it too closely, other dark shapes fall lightly from the trees and I squint, trying to make out shapes or sizes. It's so dark; a moonless, starless sky. My heart beats in my throat; no one says a word, but we've all moved our weapons from above our heads to in front of our bodies. Panic is building in me; my heart is thundering like a hundred horses across a desert plain and I'm choking on the dust.

      And then, when I'm not sure my heart can take anymore, they pounce. I hear Riven's yell of surprise and then we're all in the fray. I try to keep my back to Clara as I thrust my knife at what feels like nothing more than shadows. I'm frantic, stabbing and slashing, but I can't seem to make contact.

A paw connects with my chest and I stumble, screaming, falling to the ground. I land with a thud, my whole body jarred. Before I can roll away, I'm pinned by something dark, indescribable; I stab up with my knife, but I can't make contact. My scar bursts into a white flame, lighting the space above me and there's nothing there.

      There's nothing there.

      I collapse, relief washing through me, extinguishing the flame and I start to laugh. The sound floats out, over the rest of the group, still struggling with their own fears, their own imaginary animals. But, as my laugh reaches each one, the commotion stops.

      Mason is the first one to speak. "Everyone still here?" He illuminates the clearing a little with his hands and counts us off. "We've got to try to stay a little looser as we travel through here. There wasn't enough collective fear to make them corporeal, but that was too damn close."

      My mind strays to the paw on my chest. It certainly felt real enough.

      "How'd you figure it out, Queenie?" Mason gathers us back into a defensive position, but his shoulders are down, relaxed and his bow doesn't look quite so tight in his hand.

      "My scar – it burst into a white flame and lit up the darkness above me." It's so dark, I can't see anyone's expression, but there's a heaviness in the air. "Ryan." I whisper, deflating, feeling a different frisson of fear pierce through me.

      "Let's keep moving." Rocco gives my shoulder a pat in the darkness and I'm grateful for the comforting touch, however brief.

      We continue for hours and my eyes are sore from trying to penetrate the darkness. All I've been able to think about is Ryan, whenever I'm not thinking about the beasts that could be lurking all around me.

      Ahead, I can see cracks of light filtering through the darkness; the promise of relief and safety is so close that I drop my knife to my side. My arm is aching from holding it in a defensive position for so long. Out of my peripheral vision I see Rocco, Riven and Clara also breathe a sigh of relief and lower their defenses.

      "We're not out of the woods yet. Keep your weapons at the ready; this will be the most dangerous stretch." Mason is searching the trees with his bow and his green eyes are almost glowing. There are definitely advantages to being the Lord of this realm.

      I'm just about to raise it again when something lands on Mason. He doesn't have time to use his bow and I hear it clatter to the ground. Then, more and more people seem to emerge out of the shadows and I wonder how long they've been there.

As they circle around, the four of us draw closer together. The one who attacked Mason seems to have him under control, which raises alarm bells in my head. Either Mason is pretending to be weak, or they have someone mighty strong on their side of this fight. It's too hard to see Mason's expression in the dense darkness; even our would-be attackers are indistinct, shadowy figures.

      "What do you want?" Clara's voice reverberates around the forest, much bigger than her small stature.

      One of the people separates themselves from the crowd and approaches. "It's her." He calls out to the others once he's standing a hair's breath away from me. I consider lunging at him with my knife, but I'm indecisive and he steps back, just out of range. He reaches out a hand to grab me and I slash at him, connecting with the back of his hand.

      He pulls back and looks at it, chuckling. "Feisty, eh?"

      Before I have time to react, he punches me in the face and my head explodes.

Author's Note:

Why doesn't Mason put up more of a fight? Who do you think has them? How do you think Hannah and Mason knew each other in another life?