Chapter Fourteen #2
Felipe. Oliver stuffed down his feelings to keep them from trickling across the tether and worrying Felipe.
He didn’t know whether to be concerned or relieved that Felipe hadn’t appeared in the Dysterwood to rescue him.
Time seemed to move differently in the Dysterwood, so maybe he had only been gone a few minutes in Aldorhaven.
He hoped that was the case and not that something horrible had happened to keep Felipe from finding him.
Oliver thumbed the ring he had given him.
Don’t go where I can’t follow. He had broken that promise before he could make one of his own.
Shutting his eyes, Oliver focused on Felipe’s end of the tether.
Fear mixed with yearning and darker things Oliver couldn’t parse brushed against his mind.
He had to get back to him. If he did, he would make sure to give Felipe the ring hidden in his trunk and remind him how much he loved him.
When Oliver opened his eyes, dusk had suddenly fallen over the Dysterwood.
His heart pounded in his ears as his eyes adjusted, and he realized he no longer stood at the edge of the trees but in the middle of a narrow strip of land surrounded by water.
As he stood there waiting for his mind to catch up with his body, his feet sank deeper into the mucky banks, and water rushed into his shoes.
Oliver grimaced as he staggered forward with heavy, sodden feet.
The well-worn dirt path had been replaced with narrow wooden boards that sank beneath his weight.
With each step, the rich, sweet scent of decay wafted from the bog below, and all around him crickets chirped and cicadas droned.
Pops of green and blue swamp gas glowed above the water, dimly illuminating his path before disappearing into the shadows.
Ahead, the glow grew stronger, but Oliver slowed his pace, despite the quickening of his pulse, when his ankle rolled in the mud and something brushed against his leg.
One misstep and he would violate the first rule of these sorts of places: do not stray.
Water wicked up his trousers, and Oliver tried not to think of what lurked below the surface as he stepped from one worm-eaten tread to another.
Something was definitely down there. The unseen creatures nudged at his mind like an itch, but he didn’t dare take his attention off the shadow looming at the end of the path.
So far, the creatures had slithered away from him, though he could feel them like the appraising flick of a snake’s tongue or the drone of a hovering mosquito.
As Oliver took another sloshing step forward, the moon disappeared, and what he had assumed to be a will-o’-wisp or lantern turned out to be flickering luminescent fungi growing over the twisted trunk of a massive oak tree.
An oppressive hush fell over the woods as Oliver followed the path to where it ended at the tree’s trunk.
The oak at the center of the glade was unlike any he had ever seen.
While the other trees in the Dysterwood grew tall and straight, this one stood with its limbs akimbo and its trunk painfully arched.
It was as wide as their living room back home, and even though he couldn’t see exactly where the tree’s bare branches ended against the dusky sky, it had to be at least two stories tall.
With so little ground beneath it, the tree should have toppled over and sunk into the muck long ago, yet it stubbornly blocked the path.
Oliver’s eyes trailed over the clusters of scalloped mushrooms growing up the tree’s trunk over its many limbs.
Up close, he could see a delicate net of hyphae hanging down from the branches like willow boughs.
They burrowed deep into the water as if to anchor the tree in place.
All across the hyphae beetles and slugs crawled and writhed while something white bobbed in the still water near the tree’s roots that looked suspiciously like bones.
A voice in the back of Oliver’s mind urged him to flee, but there was nowhere for him to go.
The next board had been swallowed by the tree’s bulbous roots, and when he looked back, the way he had come had been overtaken by the bog.
Perhaps, the tree was the way out. As Oliver squinted at the bark for any sign of a door or an answer to the riddle, he wished he had Felipe’s night vision.
Up close, it was an unending mass of brown, but when he stepped as far back as he dared on the remaining tread, a shape slowly came into focus.
In the dim light of the mushrooms and the fool’s fire, the bark before him almost looked like a human face.
Two large knots made wide eyes while curves in the bark formed a narrow nose and a pointed chin.
He followed them lower to find the outline of a neck and shoulders.
Nature had grown a life-size effigy in wood and moss.
Hovering a hairsbreadth above the bark but never touching it, Oliver traced his hand down the figure’s frame until he caught a flash of white where their heart would have been.
The decorative ivory handle of a knife jutted from the oak as if the bark had grown around it for decades and swallowed it to the hilt.
Beside it, gnarled, wooden fingers grasped for the knife, and on the third finger of their right hand, tarnished gold glinted.
Much like the knife, the tree had grown around the ring and held it tight.
Crouching down, Oliver had expected to find a gold band or something elaborately jeweled, but upon closer inspection, he realized it was an old signet ring.
The carnelian face was wide and eroded from years of use, and in the dim light, he couldn’t make out the images carved into its face.
Oliver straightened and double-checked the tree for anymore hidden trinkets or a sign that there might be another way that didn’t violate the rule of respect.
His only choices were the ring, the knife, or trekking back through the swamp.
Power, violence, bonds made, bonds cut, he couldn’t be certain what his choices meant, but he knew going back through the dark, rippling water would be his undoing.
While there was no way to go around the tree without straying, there was one other option.
“I want to go back to Felipe,” Oliver whispered to the tree. “I know I’m a stranger in your wood, but I mean no harm and have taken nothing. Please, I just want to go back to my love.”
Nothing happened, but something in the air changed.
Oliver met the knotty eyes of the face in the bark and found them staring back at him with something akin to recognition.
He swore he could sense something human in those eyes as they held his gaze, though he wasn’t certain if that scared or comforted him.
A snap echoed through the silent bog. The ring that had been trapped in the wood now hung from a gnarled, oaken finger.
When Oliver looked back at the effigy trapped in the bark, whatever spark was there had been snuffed out and only a swirl of bark remained.
“Thank you,” Oliver said before carefully pulling the ring from the splintered finger.
The metal warmed his palm as he inspected it in the hyphae’s dull glow. Drawing in a calming breath, Oliver slipped the ring onto his right hand and pictured Felipe’s face.
“I want to go back to Felipe.”
The words had scarcely left Oliver’s lips when cold, boney fingers wrapped around his ankles and dragged him under.
***
FELIPE SAT ON THE BENCH alone, still as death and soaked to the bone.
He had sent Gwen back to the inn when the rain grew harder.
People like him didn’t have to worry about catching a chill, but she did.
And after everything, she deserved to be somewhere safe and warm.
Gwen had been reluctant to leave him alone; he couldn’t blame her for fearing he would throw himself into the woods the second she was out of sight.
As tempting as it was, he had promised her he would only charge in if he sensed Oliver was in danger, and he was a man of his word.
Still, he suspected she stood behind a mausoleum watching him for several minutes before finally heading back to the Allen Inn.
Thunder rolled and lightning cracked directly overhead, but Felipe didn’t flinch, even when a chunk of glassy hail cut his cheek.
The rain would wash away the blood, and his skin would mend without his interference.
Felipe had been trained to stay still for hours no matter the conditions, and he would remain on the bench all night if he had to.
Every layer of clothing was saturated and his curls had flattened hours ago, but as long as Oliver remained in the Dysterwood, he would hold vigil.
Felipe’s attention remained steadfastly on the distant beat of Oliver’s heart on the other end of the tether and the space between the trees where he had slipped into another world.
The tether’s familiar pressure between his ribs had been a comfort until Felipe thought about what it would feel like if Oliver died in the Dysterwood.
What if there was no prelude of panic and Oliver’s life merely ended?
Felipe had felt the tether fraying and slipping from his grasp when Oliver nearly bled out in the cathedral months ago, and he never wanted to experience that sensation again.
But if Oliver was swiftly cut down, would Felipe live long enough to know?
He might fall where he stood the moment Oliver died, and Gwen would find his cold body at daybreak and know what happened.
The alternative was even worse: that he might linger knowing the end was inescapable and the one person he wanted at his side had already left him behind.
The breath caught in Felipe’s throat and tears hovered in the corners of his eyes.
He had never wanted to believe in an afterlife for fear of where he might end up, but now, he hoped he would at least get to see Oliver again.
Felipe snapped to attention as the tether pulled taut.
A crushing wave of panic knocked the breath from Felipe’s lungs as he leapt to his feet and made for the trees.
Oliver. Between the graves where Oliver last stood, the shadows roiled and the branches shook as if caught in a windstorm.
A flash of fabric was all he saw as the figure landed hard in the wet grass out of sight.
Felipe’s heart pounded in his ears as he sprinted around the graves.
The second he heard a wet, gurgling cough and a shuddering breath, he knew it was Oliver.
Falling to his knees, Felipe scrambled forward and pulled Oliver upright.
He whispered reassuring nothings and patted Oliver’s back as he coughed up water.
He was soaking wet and stunk like a stagnant pond, but he was alive.
When Oliver flashed him a relieved smile, a sob Felipe didn’t know he had been holding in broke from his lips.
Oliver crushed Felipe to his chest and buried his face in his neck as ragged cries rocked his form.
“Is it really you?” The words slipped from Felipe’s lips unbidden as he clutched his partner’s back.
For a moment, he feared he was dead, and they had both slipped into the afterlife together.
He needed to be sure Oliver was real. Pulling back, Felipe cradled his lover’s face.
He stared into Oliver’s pewter grey eyes and ran his thumb along his pale pink lips before brushing a wet lock of hair from his forehead with shaking hands.
As if answering his question, Oliver took Felipe’s palm and placed it over his beating heart.
The tether tightened as Felipe drew in a wet sniff.
He had been so afraid he would never see him again.
It must have shown on his face because Oliver bit his lip and tightened his grip on Felipe’s arms.
“I’m so sorry,” Oliver yelled over the rain, his voice thick. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Someone pushed me. I got back as quickly as I could.”
Felipe kissed his temple and hugged his trembling form fiercely, fearing if he let him go, he would disappear again. “Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m just glad you’re safe. Love, you’re shivering. Let’s get you out of the rain.”
Oliver’s teeth chattered as Felipe helped him to his feet. “How long was I gone?”
“Five hours, but I would have waited forever if I had to.”
“Wait, I need to show you something first. I know you aren’t supposed to take anything from those places, but a tree person gave me this,” Oliver replied, holding up a gold ring. “What do you think it means?”
Felipe stared at it for a long moment, thinking of all Gwen had told him about Oliver’s possible origins. “I think it means we’re going to have a lot to talk about with Gwen after you’re dry.”