7: Ferns & Fire

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They followed the brook for a long time, tramping through ferns and light vegetation. The sun peered in at them curiously through the lens of the canopy, and the breeze emitted breaths that sent shivers rippling through the leaves.

      At last, they reached a clearing.

     They were not prepared for what they saw. A vast expanse of perfect dark blue, roiling like a storm, cut cleanly through the forest. On the other side was a horror beyond comprehension.

     Where they stood, the ground was springy. Ferns poked up around the woman's feet. Trunks soared ever upward. The sky was a deepening rose.

      Then, when their gaze turned westward:

      Fire.

     The beginning of a song of panic managed to slip out of the bird's beak, but only one note. The smoke slipping into its lungs smothered the rest.

     The woman heard the single note, heard the silence pounding on after, filling the air with something unbearable. She heard the bird's fear drip onto the ground.

     Her spine rippled. It flashed again, inside her. Grains moved behind her eyes. Thin gray lines began to jut along her lips, sewing into place. The hissing voice channeled through her.

     She contorted. It spoke.

"Sky is dark, air thin
Tangled breath and brick—"

     The voice cut off as the flames reached into the sky, blackening the earth to charcoal. She watched the forest across the river burn.

     Sparks disintegrated in the thick haze, their light snuffed by a single hot breath. The songbird's frail screeches conjured no images.

     In an instant, the woman snapped out of her stupor.

     She yanked hard against the chains she felt binding her to the forest floor. The cold metal grated into her ankles. No—no—no—tears formed but didn't fall.

     She screamed with the dying trees and the flaking heart of the woods.

     She tried to plunge into the river before her, but the chains held firm. She was incapable of movement. She knew it would hurt too much to give in, so the metal kept biting.

     Suddenly, the bird shook the layers of ash from its feathers and coughed one hacking, retching word: Fly.

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