Chapter 5
T he dream falls away, and when I wake up, tears are rolling down my cheeks. I open my eyes to a humid, damp cell. Green moss grows on the right wall, drinking in droplets of water that drip, drip, drip from the ceiling. My lungs try to take in a calming breath, but instead, I cough, sputtering moisture.
I sit up, wincing, and clutch the side of my neck. A sharp pain rips through the muscle as I try to turn my head to the left. Impossible.
Someone has changed my clothes. I’m now wearing a simple, loose green top and culottes. A shiver creeps down my back, and I clench my palms to stave off the clammy sweat.
The mattress beneath me lies on the floor. No ventilation and no bed frame. A thin pillow, the villain responsible for my neck pain, lies behind me, and plain, graying sheets twist around my legs. A pile of clean clothes, identical to the ones I’m wearing, sits in the corner.
I drop my head into my shaking hands and sob. Mum is dying. My worst nightmare is coming true—that I would cause the death of my mother. It didn’t exactly happen how I thought it would, from an uncontrollable, tree-induced explosion. Still, it’s happening.
And Dae, that little snake. I’ll fucking kill him when I catch him. There’s no doubting he’s betrayed me. He’s as good as dead.
My bones shake violently. Hands clasped together, I try to stop their tremors.
I take a breath.
Mum’s gonna be okay.
Another.
She’ll be okay.
One more breath. It’s not over yet. The Spring, Dad said. I’ve got until Spring. That’s three months. That’s plenty.
“Hello,” I shout. The door, like the rest of the cell, is made of solid stone, with a small barred window looking out onto a thin corridor. “Hello!” Again, louder. The door handle clatters as I shake it. No one replies. No one comes. No surprise.
I turn around, my back to the door, and take another deep breath.
Step one, get out of here.
Step two, fix Mum.
Step three, kill Dae for kidnapping me and sticking me in a cell at the absolute worst time.
Step four, ask Dae what the fuck was up with the fruit and the crawling.
Step five, die.
Like I said, three months is plenty.
On the far back wall, a small, barred window pools light into the room. Even on my tiptoes, the window is too high to peek outside. My arms reach up high, until my fingers trail the very edge of the window. I haul myself up by the tips of my fingers. I fall to the ground with a clatter.
Cursing, I pick myself back up and run my hands through my hair. The stack of identical clothes catches my eye. Someone has left them there. Someone who doesn’t want me dead. I mean, if they did, I’d already be dead, right?
My hands frantically search the room for anything I can use as a weapon. I stop when I reach the bottom left-hand corner of the stone wall. Weakened, jagged edges scrape against my skin as I run my fingers along it. I pull, but no matter how hard I tug, the rocks won’t budge. No matter. If they won’t come out willingly, they’ll come out unwillingly. I hit the wall with all my might. Again. Again. Again. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Finally, a sharp, pointy piece of stone clatters to the ground. I quickly snatch the freed, jagged edge off the floor. I might not be able to pick a lock, or parkour my way out of a cell, but I can hit someone over the head with my new rock.
Positioning myself behind the door, I rock onto my ankles near the hinges and make a silent prayer that the door swings inward, rather than out. Out means someone else can slam the door on me as I try to escape. In puts me in the driving seat. I take a deep, settling breath and pull my trousers up slightly before pressing the edge of my shiny new rock against my shin and scraping upward.
Biting down on my lip to stop from wincing, I watch the ruby-red blood pours in streams from the new wound. I pause my mutilation to assess the damage, and give my blood some time to trickle down my leg.
Then, I scream.
Nothing happens.
I allow some of the real panic bubbling up inside me to seep into my scream as I clutch my leg, covering my hands in my own blood.
A key turns in a lock. The door creeps open.
It swings inward.
Yes!
Someone does want to keep me alive.
Well, something.
Standing in the doorway, too close for me to attack safely, is a creature that almost makes me scream even harder. It’s green, covered in long, matted hair, with claws for hands. It’s very short, barely reaching hip-height.
“What’s wrong?” it asks in a raspy voice. I wail louder, not trusting myself to talk. It sighs irritably, letting go of the door. I wait. Closer. Closer. Closer. Its hand reaches out gently to pull mine away. I pounce.
First, I hit it on the head with the side of the rock, not too hard, just enough to shock it. It sways, its face contorted in shock. I don’t hesitate. I ram the pointy edge of my rock into its leg. Blue blood spurts from the wound, drenching me in sticky goo. Its hand twitches. Its eyes fill with pain. It claws at its leg, trying to cover the wound, or to push out the rock, I’m not sure which.
Mum’s going to be okay. I’m going to be with her soon , I tell myself over and over, wincing as I turn my face from its crying, shivering form. It’s okay, it’ll be worth it. I creep around the door, the creature’s wails piercing my ears, and peer down the hallway. The coast is clear.
The creature’s wails are quickly turning to whimpers. I hope I didn’t hit an artery.
The hallway leads out onto a small area that contains only a tiny bench and a little desk. On the desk sit pieces of paper and a pen. I pick up the paper. The creature has been drawing trees. A knot forms in my stomach as I set the paper back down.
To the left, a very short path leads to a wooden door. I suck in a breath, slither close to the wall, and open the door. I try to peek around the crack—bright colours gleam from outside, like the reflection off a prism. I open the door a little more before opening my mouth in awe and stumbling back inside the darkened room.
Biting down on my lower lip, I take another deep, steadying breath before tiptoeing back to the front door. My feet step onto the mossy, polychromatic ground, and I close the cell door behind me and gasp.
The cell is inside a towering forest. Three suns shine from various distances, nestled within a pink sky. Trees surround every nook and cranny. Pink trees, orange trees, blue trees. Wobbly trees, straight trees, spotted trees. Each tree more vibrant than the last, more alive.
Bright, summer colours speckle each blade of grass. Beautiful flowers sprout from the kaleidoscopic landscape. Bluebells and primroses, spindles and hart’s tongue fern, guelder rose and wild garlic and lily-of-the-valley all grow undisturbed. Bearded tooth fungus and lungwort lichens cover the trees, and chanterelle mushrooms litter the floor. I gaze up; the trees canopy over, higher than any tree from back home could ever go.
Whispers call to me. Ancient murmurs. A thousand trees sing a melodious symphony, their slow song flowing through my veins.
I look up, my breath catching in my throat. The trees arch overhead, their branches forming a cathedral of leaves that stretches as far as the eye can see. Sunlight filters through the gaps, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor and illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. It’s a scene of breathtaking beauty, a world unlike any I’ve ever known.
But the beauty is laced with an unsettling silence. The air is still, heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. There are no birds singing, no insects buzzing, no animals rustling through the undergrowth. It’s as if the forest is holding its breath, waiting for something.
Suddenly, a twig snaps in the distance. My head snaps up, my heart pounding in my chest. I strain my ears, listening for any other sound. There’s nothing. Just the same eerie silence.
I take a cautious step forward, my senses on high alert. The forest floor is soft and yielding beneath my feet, cushioned by a thick layer of fallen leaves. I move slowly, my eyes scanning the dense foliage for any sign of movement.
The air shifts again, and I can smell it now. The faint, musky odor of something wild and untamed, something furry and sweaty. It’s coming from the right, just beyond the thick trunk of a gnarled oak tree.
I freeze, my breath caught in my throat. My hand instinctively reaches for the hilt of my makeshift blade.
But before I can even turn, a hand clamps down on my shoulder, yanking me back with brutal force. My body flies as I struggle desperately against the hand’s grip.
I stumble, my body twisting as I fight against the iron grip, and crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Pain shoots through my leg as it scrapes against the rough bark of fallen branches. Desperate, I push myself up with one hand, the other clawing at the wrist that holds me captive.
I pull my knees up and press my feet into the floor before using all my might to pull the offending wrist as hard as I can. My captor comes tumbling down. I move quickly out of the way, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the falling body. Jumping back up onto my feet, I try to run. I’m much too slow.
My ears ring. More hands grip me. I push and shove and punch and kick, but it’s useless. There are too many of them. I spit blood to the ground, the metallic taste pooling in my mouth. The hands drag me back through the woods. Back towards the cell. Branches and spiky leaves rip open my legs as I’m hauled along the floor. I grab someone, dizzy eyes focusing on the men dragging me. Except, they aren’t men.
Tall. Lithe. Sharp features. A rat’s tail. Long, thick fingernails. A mouse’s whiskers. Tufts of hair. Hooves for toes. One of them brays. Not laughs. Brays. My body goes limp, and I let go, my legs dragging along the barbed forest floor as I scream. And scream. And scream. I scream all the way back to my cell. By the time they lock me away, all three of the half-men, half-creatures are rubbing their ears.
They slam the cell door in my face. I throw my body against it.
“Hey, come back!” a raspy voice sounds from the ground.
I stumble slightly, eyes widening as my foot squelches beneath me. I scream anew—the green creature is still lying on the floor. Of course he would be.
“Oh, yeah, this must be very hard for you,” the creature says sarcastically, hugging its leg tightly to its chest and rocking. It rubs its hand against its forearm. I scramble away to the corner of my cell, tracking blue blood across the room. My stomach turns, clenching and rolling.
A wave of nausea hits me, and I clench my hands in front of my lips, tears dripping between my fingers and mixing with the creature’s blood. The creature just lies there with deadpan eyes and an unimpressed twist to its creepy green mouth.
I sob. I sob for Mum and I sob for myself. I shake with tears until there is nothing left inside of me. Until I am just a shell, cowering in the corner of a dark cell. I peek up at the creature between drenched palms.
“Stop looking at me,” it groans. The creature pinches the bridge of its nose with two long fingernails. “I’m going to get killed by a hysterical human.”
Bang. Bang. Bang. An echo sounds down the hallway. The knocking gets closer and is followed by the sounds of cell doors creaking open. Finally, the banging reaches me…and pauses. My eyes trail up to the small window in my cell door, and I find one of my three assailants—the one with mouse whiskers—watching me. His eyes sweep the room and come to settle on the creature in my cell. He raises an eyebrow.
“Finally. For God’s sake,” the green creature exclaims.
“Oi. No lip from you. Or I’ll take away all your wood,” the mouse-boy snaps. The creature curves in on itself, muttering an apology. The mouse-boy raises an eyebrow at me and sighs. “Too dirty to go tonight,” he mutters to himself. His eyes narrow. “If you run, I’ll hurt you.” I believe him.
He opens the door and drags the creature out by the scruff of its neck. The creature winces, biting its lip as it is hauled into the hallway. The door slams shut again, caging me in. Knocking, clanging, and creaking continue down the hallway. Finally, footsteps sound down and out the front door, and silence falls.
The cold stone ground presses against my cheek as I roll to my side, wrapping my arms around my legs. I wait, quietly shaking. What feels like half an hour later, a key clanks before the mouse-boy and the assailant with a rat’s tail walk into my cell. The rat-man jerks his head towards the door, indicating it’s time to move. The mouse-boy just stands, leaning against the cell wall. Tears trickle down my cheeks as I furrow my brow. Confusion overshadows any other emotion.
“Well, we’re not gonna clean that blood up,” the mouse-boy laughs.
“Oh.” The word escapes my lips, a hollow echo of the storm raging within. I wipe the tears from my face, but the gesture feels mechanical, devoid of any real emotion. It’s like a dam has burst inside me, releasing a torrent of grief, anger, and despair, and finally leaving behind a desolate emptiness. I feel hollowed out, numb, almost...dead inside. As if I’ve exhausted my capacity for feeling, leaving me stranded in a barren wasteland of apathy.
He throws the mop at me and points towards the bucket. I throw it back at him, I guess, I do have some emotion left. His eyes widen, and I attack. I pummel his legs, but there are two of them and only one of me, and within minutes, I’m breathless in the corner of my cell again.
The mouse-man grabs me by the cheeks and says, “Keep going, and I will kill you.” I’m about to spit in his face, but if he does kill me, Mum’s definitely dead. And I’ll never get to give Dae what’s coming to him.
I pick up the mop and get to work.
When my bucket and mop are drenched in blue water, the rat-man takes me to a small tap around the side of the building. I fill the bucket. I mop and fill and dry until my back is sore and the floor shines. Slumping outside next to my relaxed jailers, I dump the last bucket of blue water on the grass.
Five moons have replaced the three suns. One purple, one blue, two that could almost be the moons back home. The last one is barely visible. A rolling mass of transparent dust.
“Back in,” the mouse-boy sneers as the rat-man shoves me towards the door. I yawn. I’m too tired to fight, and certainly too tired to care. I lay down on the bed, bones aching, muscles sore, and hands on fire as my eyes slide shut.
Cold eyes, long fingers, and the scent of lavender and bergamot flash across my mind, peeling my lids open and sending a shiver down my spine.
I try to close my eyes again, but all I hear is, “Be my friend.” “Okay.” I open them quickly. Rat fucking bastard. I am such an idiot for trusting a monstrous little beast like Dae. Dad warned me about fairies, he warned me about Faerie fruit, too. I should have listened. I’ll save Mum, somehow, and I’ll get home, and then I will kill him. Just… not today.
Shuffles sound outside my cell. Doors creak and slam. Feet drag along the floor. I breathe quietly, in and out. “I’m okay. I’m calm, and I’m going to be okay,” I whisper to myself.
“You don’t sound very calm,” a deep voice rumbles through the wall to my left. I freeze. Another animal-man? Silence stretches out between us. “Hi,” the voice murmurs gently, tentatively. I don’t reply. The voice and I remain silent, until finally, I fall into a half-sleep, one eye open, trained on the wall to my left.