Chapter 18 #2
Geoff’s cheeks flared red when he realized where his eyes had strayed. He jerked his gaze down to the strange soft blue pants she wore—thin like a second skin—and the sturdy brown boots. Her entire appearance shouted one undeniable truth: she was not from here.
She looks about fifteen or sixteen, he guessed. His age.
He nearly tripped over his own feet when she spun around suddenly, eyes wide and body tense.
Her hands danced in the air in chaotic gestures, and she began muttering in a language he didn’t recognize.
Geoff blinked, tilting his head. The cadence was rhythmic, urgent, and laced with emotion—panic, perhaps.
He tilted his head and frowned when she turned in a circle and called out a series of names: Phoenix, Adaline, Zohar, Bálint…
She looked up at the sky, shielding her eyes with one hand, searching desperately for a sign of familiarity. Geoff followed her gaze.
The canopy above was thick, woven with silver-touched leaves and hanging vines. Nothing but forest stretched above them now. No mist. No funnel. No way back.
He bit his lip, thinking of what he should do. He didn’t want to lead her back to the village. What if she was a threat? Memories crowded him of the last alien to come to their world. It had almost destroyed them.
Well, not the last alien.
He didn’t know if his sister’s husband, Mike Hallbrook, a human from a place called Earth, could be classified as an alien. Marina had opened a portal between their worlds, and Mike had stepped through when the Hellhounds were about to kill his sister.
Still, it is best to stay hidden until I know for sure.
He silently rose and followed the girl as she turned and marched in the wrong direction—away from the village and deeper into the ancient heart of the forest, the only sound the rustling leaves under her boots.
He liked the stubborn squareness of her shoulders, a stark contrast to the uneven, frustrated shuffle of her feet. The way she held herself spoke volumes.
With each passing minute, his curiosity intensified, a burning question mark in his mind. He carefully kept his distance, not wanting her to sense his presence behind her. Just as she vanished around an oak, a bloodcurdling scream tore through the silent woods.
Geoff nearly dropped his invisibility spell as he ducked into the undergrowth.
The girl thrashed at her face and braid, cursing at an unlucky spider web.
Geoff bit his fist to keep from laughing and quickly whispered a translation spell.
Her voice—now perfectly clear—spilled forth a stream of the most colorful threats he had ever heard.
By the fifth spider web, he was convinced she could curse better than a drunken pirate.
Curiosity burned through him, and Geoff shifted into the form of a tree tigcoon, his grey, striped fur blending with the forest as he shadowed her. Her path led straight toward the circle of the elder trees—toward Elder Oak himself.
He darted ahead, bounding over roots and ferns until he reached the cluster of trees where Elder Oak slumbered in the grove’s center. The moment the old tree sensed him, his thick bark creaked and twisted, revealing the ancient face in his trunk.
“Elder, beware. A stranger from another realm approaches,” Geoff warned, his twin tails flickering.
“A stranger?” Elder Oak rumbled, his deep voice vibrating through the forest.
Geoff shifted back and nodded, still catching his breath. “Dropped from the sky, Elder. Out of a mist funnel. She’s… not like us.”
Elder Oak’s eyes widened. “Is she injured?”
“No, just…” Geoff paused, searching for the right word. “Confused. Angry. Possibly not right in the head. She curses and screeches a lot.”
The tree chuckled. “Fascinating. A cursing, screeching creature. I don’t believe I have ever met one of those before.”
“You’re about to,” Geoff replied, glancing back. “She’s not far now.”
A low growl echoed through the trees.
Geoff twisted, and his blood chilled. The night howlers were stirring. The girl’s loud curses and noisy trek through the forest were like a beacon to the beasts that came out after dark.
He twisted again when he heard another loud yelp and a splash.
The girl appeared from the other side of the creek, the lower half of her pants and boots soaking wet, her eyes wide and wild, her stick held out like a blade.
She stumbled, skidded, and fell to her knees at the base of Elder Oak.
Her lip quivered as she whispered, “I’m not afraid.
Everything’s going to be fine. It’s just…
just forest noise. Forests have noises. Bálint is always talking about the hullabaloos he hears when he is out in the woods. ”
Elder Oak moved.
Geoff hung on as the ancient tree—so still and majestic for most of the year—lowered his massive limbs and gently cradled the girl. She gasped as she was lifted off the ground, her limbs stiff, her eyes round.
“I’ve gone loco,” she muttered, dazed. “Or dead. I must be dead.”
Elder Oak chuckled, his laugh like wind rustling through a thousand leaves. “Well now, you don’t look dead to me.”
Geoff climbed onto a nearby branch and leaned forward to study her. She clung to the tree like it was a lifeline, her gaze locked on Elder Oak’s face in wonder and disbelief.
“Are you… real?” she whispered.
“As real as the tears on your cheeks,” the tree said kindly. “Though I admit, the branch you’ve chosen as a sword is a little… modest.”
Geoff snorted at Elder’s teasing.
The girl flushed and clutched her stick tighter. “It’s temporary,” she muttered.
Geoff smiled at the defensive tone in her voice and the flash of defiance in her eyes.
He didn’t know who she was… or where she’d come from.
But one thing was certain:
Magic had brought her here.
And he intended to find out why.