Remove these ads. Join the Worldbuilders Guild

Chapter 13

3706 0 0

“How do you know all of this?” I directed the question at Glasses, but it was the old man who responded.

“The Dark Forest’s stories escape its bounds. As far as we know, Zephnos’ story is the most common one.” He looked at mom, smiling gently. “Every now and then, someone manages to get out. Not the whole thing, but tiny scraps of it. Our organization has been piecing it together for a long time.”

I frowned, wondering how much I could really trust these people. They seemed earnest. Thing was, I wanted to believe them. They were like me, and the flaking talisman that sat on the table proved that. But I didn’t remember them from Lostlings’ Hope, and that made me suspicious. The talisman could have been taken from another survivor… How far did my mistrust extend?

“How long has the Ordo Ignis Salamandra been gathering these stories?” I asked. 

My pause had been noticed, and the trio exchanged glances. Glasses spoke up. “We don’t have a good answer for that. Over two thousand years though. Probably longer. We’re not particularly secretive, but the order hasn’t made its own history a priority, at least not until recently. Our main goal is to learn how to stop the Dark Forest from stealing things from our world.”

“Zephnos isn’t the monster you thought he was.” The woman’s lips tightened, her eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms as she leaned against the wall. ”Most of the sapient creatures in the Dark Forest only want to be left alone. The Forest itself is what drives them mad.” 

“Speaking from experience? Think you know what it’s like to be chased by that thing?” I tried to keep my voice calm, but it cracked. Mom’s hand was on my hand, squeezing gently. I took a deep breath, glanced at her, noting the worry in her eyes. “It’s fine mom, I’m fine.”

The woman nodded sharply. “We actually do. And we were rescued by another one. We don’t know why she didn’t attack us, but she’s the only reason we’re all alive right now. Went by the name of Soil.” My confusion must have been evident, because she looked at Glasses. “You sure he’ll be helpful? Nothing he’s said so far has been new. He probably didn’t stay too long.”

Glasses rubbed his chin, then turned back towards me. “How long were you in the Dark Forest? Your age indicates a while, but nothing happened to the Dark Forest in that time?”

“What do you mean? Plenty happened. We’d be chased by giant spiders one day, then the next the trees themselves would try to eat us. We’d hear singing in the trees. Sometimes people followed it. No one from Lostling’s Hope made that mistake.”

Glasses slowly shook his head. “That’s not what I’m looking for, but you’ve answered my question. How did you get out?”

I stared at him, annoyed by the lack of information in his response. “Got out by pure chance. Somehow I stumbled on the Campgrounds when I got separated from my hunting party.”

The old man spoke up. “Who was with you? Jules? Marion? Kearsley?”

That caught me by surprise. “Kearsley… you know her?”

All three of our guests nodded. The elder said, “She was the head of Lostling’s Hope when we were there. She was…” He faltered and looked at the others. “How old would you say she was?”

“Too old.” The woman answered.

Elder nodded in agreement. “For the Forest, and maybe for life outside of it. There were rumors that Cicero had done something to her to keep her alive.” Turning his attention back to me, he asked, “And what about him? Did you see him?”

“Cicero…? I don’t think so.”

Glasses shot a look to the woman, who I’d begun to think of as “Shadow”. She’d barely moved since she came in, but her eyes were constantly scanning the room. Everyone else in the room avoided her eyes, even Glasses and the old man. Her movements reminded me of our big black cat, Mr Thomas, who constantly prowled for mice at night. Her clothes did little to hide her lean muscles. Even beneath my own clothes I still felt the hardened musculature that was the mark of the Dark Forest, far better developed than any child my age should have been. I was beginning to wonder why Glasses wasn’t displaying the same traits.

Glasses said, “Are you sure? You never saw a man with a mask of swirling color?”

I shook my head. “Never. As far as I can guess, I was there for eight years.”

“How did you get out?” This time Shadow spoke up.

“I told you. I found the Campgrounds, and then I found myself near the road that I’d been lost in.” The Shadow didn’t respond. Her eyes just kept flicking between the inhabitants of the room. Eventually she sighed and settled back against the wall again.

“Who was at the Campgrounds?” Glasses again, with that small smile. There was something in his expression that unnerved me. The smile was a little too curved. His eyes were slightly too narrow, too focused.

“Just the Salamander,” I lied.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“How did you get into the Dark Forest? When did you realize something was wrong?”

I tried to sneak a look at Shadow, was caught, then looked back at Glasses. “The trees. They started to move when I wasn’t looking. I didn’t notice it at first… they also changed. They got bigger, taller. And then, there was the noise. The rain stopped, and silence fell across the forest. There was a deepness to the shadows between the trees. I felt like if I walked into it I wouldn’t ever come out. It ate light and sound and, if I watched it long enough, it began to take forms from my nightmares. Most of the time they were simple flowing lines, like silhouettes. If I looked at them longer, it became obvious that whatever I was looking at was too close to look like that. I was scared. I began to call for mom… that’s when I was found by Zephnos. You know the rest.” I shuddered, remembering the Forest. It had taken me years to adapt to the way it moved, and even then I never felt comfortable unless I was with another hunting party. “Why are you so interested in him?” 

Glasses glanced at the elder and Shadow. The old man was staring at my mom, who I suddenly noticed was shifting uncomfortably. He spoke up, directing his deep baritone at her. “This is beginning to sound familiar to you isn’t it?”

Mom jerked, startled from her thoughts. “Wha… I don’t know what you mean.”

Elder walked around the oak table, crossing to our side of the room for the first time since our guests had arrived. His old eyes, a deep muddy brown, looked into her blue ones as he took her hands. A slow but gentle smile, like an incoming tide, spread across his face. “You’ve heard of Zephnos before. Maybe not by name, but by likeness.”

I got up, pushed back my chair with a squeal, and pushed Elder away. “You’re going to tell us what you want with me and Mom. Now.” Just as I’d thought, Elder wasn’t some old and decrepit gentleman. My push should have knocked him down, but he’d absorbed it like a sponge, only allowing me to push him back to avoid drawing attention.

Glasses sighed, then acquiesced. “Alright. We’ll tell you. But you have to promise, Marion, that you tell us where you’ve heard this from. If you don’t do that, we’ll leave now and never bother you again.”

I looked back at Mom. She looked away from Glasses back to me. Her eyes were wide, her mouth a bare line, tapering towards a frown. “Do you want to tell them?”

Her brow furrowed, but after a moment she nodded, having come to a decision. “Yes. It will help you right? And they may be able to help us in return. They know what you’ve been through Jim. They must have a way to deal with it.”

“We do,” Shadow cut in.

“Then I think we should.” She turned back to Elder, who had returned to the other side of the table. Her voice was as sturdy as the table when she said, “Tell us what you know.”

Glasses smiled grimly and began to tell his tale.


Support NewtC's efforts!

Please Login in order to comment!