Chapter 10 The forest of giants
The forest of giants.
“The Traveling Market tried democracy. A few years after it was created, its four founders—engineers who worked on the three RWE baggers before the Rise—decided to cast votes and created a council. After all, the market functioned with the help of so many people. It was a team effort. But the Traveling Market isn’t land.
It is a combination of three incredible vehicles.
It cannot be divided into fiefdoms, where owners decide at their leisure what to do.
Decisions needed to be made quickly and efficiently.
After a few close calls threatening the destruction of the Traveling Market, the original engineers took control again.
During those days, they were the ones who could operate the Market.
Years passed, and a supreme authority became a necessity. ”
STELLAN
“Shit. How can anything be this big?” I say, eyes on the giant trees reigning over the forest. “It’s unnatural.”
Alastair laughs quietly. “We live in a world where old gods walk the earth, and you draw the line at enormous trees?”
We’re following the road going deeper into what used to be the Sequioa National Park. Of all the places my mothers could have chosen for their new settlement, of course, it had to be extreme.
We turn around a bend to discover that one of the giant trees fell on the road a while ago. The trunk is as thick as a house. Someone built a long wooden ramp to allow cars to pass over the obstacle. Alastair’s truck does the climb effortlessly.
My mothers didn’t answer the radio in the last two days. We usually have regular weekly hours for getting in touch, but I couldn’t wait. Perri needs me. I really hope Jude and Oliver are still with them.
I check the map again. I marked the trail a few weeks ago, following Jess’ directions. The trail leading to their new camp should be around the next bend…
“There,” I point towards the visible dirt road going through the giant trees.
Alastair swerves smoothly, and we leave the beaten path. I wonder briefly how they drove the RVs over the rocks to get to the location of their new settlement, but I trust Margaret to find a way.
Dread pools in my gut now that we’re getting closer.
My desire to find Perri overshadowed everything, and I didn’t stop long enough to wonder what would happen when the King finally faces Jude after all this time.
He hunted them down only a year ago after we hid them on the Traveling Market.
I still remember his rage that day. I’d been terrified we might suffer the consequences for helping Jude and get thrown out of our home, but Alastair had accepted our apology during a private audience the next day, and that was it.
I dare a glance towards Alastair. He looks calm, eyes on the dirt road. But I have a feeling it’s the quiet before the storm, when all the animals go to ground and the birds stop singing.
Before I can voice my worries, my mothers’ new settlement appears on top of a hill surrounded by the enormous trees. They have placed the RVs near the river to connect to the water, and it looks like they have already started building a log cabin.
Unsurprisingly, they brought their big sign that says in washed out pink letters Gears and Giggles, and in smaller ones Mechanics.
I don’t know if they’ll get any customers so far into the forest, but at least they can become a pit stop for traveling merchants.
And in time, they’re planning on building a community.
Thanks to the altitude, the giant trees and the forest are resisting the advancing desert.
Perri told me the sequoias’ spongy bark is quite resistant to fire, and their leaves grow so high the flames don’t reach them easily.
Alastair parks the truck at a safe distance away.
I take a deep breath. “You should stay here.”
“Not a chance,” he says, before opening the door and getting out.
“Fuck…” I scramble to follow.
A shirtless man is chopping wood behind the RVs, muscles shiny with sweat.
Black veins snake around his arms and chest. His raven-black hair is longer than before, and he has tied it in a short ponytail, loose strands framing his face.
Oliver watches us get out of the truck, axe in hand.
Even from afar, we can see the blue of his eyes—a rare color for someone of asian descent.
I hesitate to grab my shotgun in case things get out of hand, but I think better of it. Who would I even shoot? Oliver, a friend and Jude’s lover, or my king? I curse myself for being a fool and putting us in this situation.
Jude comes running from the forest. His ginger hair is longer than the last time I saw him, too, but he has a neat haircut. He’s holding a gun.
I raise my hands slowly, as if to appease a beast. “We’re here to ask for your help!”
But the two men aren’t listening to me. They’re focused on Alastair. Electricity rises over Oliver’s skin, and the axe has turned red from the high voltage. If we were standing in water, we would be cooked alive already.
“You should put your dogs on a leash,” Alastair says calmly. But his focus betrays his tension.
I’ve never seen the King fight, but I’ve heard the tales.
He’s a ruthless mutant with inhuman speed and incredible resilience.
Oliver’s electricity might barely slow him down.
We can’t have a fight of epic proportions here, at my mothers’ new settlement.
I won’t risk their lives and happiness for petty mutant squabbles.
I trust Jude and turn my back on them as I face Alastair. He’s still not looking at me, so for once, I let my fear and vulnerability to the surface. He’s my King. His focus has always been on protecting the Traveling Market and his subjects.
“Please,” I whisper. “We don’t have time for this. We need to find Perri.”
My plea hits him like a whip, and his gray eyes fall on me. I swear I almost hear a soft growl rising from his chest, like a vibration, but it must be my imagination.
“You should say ‘please’ more often,” he says. “You’d always get your way.” A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.
I frown, confused, then say, “Let me talk to them, please. And try to look less aggressive while I do.”
He chuckles. “Very well. But I make no promises.”
For some reason, he trails his fingers along my arm as I step away. But when I turn back to look at him, he sits on the hood of his truck, relaxed.
Jude has a hand on Oliver’s shoulder as I walk towards them, which means he’s reigned in his deadly electricity.
“Stellan, can you tell me why the fuck you brought a murderous king on our doorstep?” Jude says.
I scowl. “Last time I checked, this place was my mothers’ new home, not your doorstep, asshole.”
He snorts. “The entire world is my doorstep, grumpy old man.”
“I’m younger than you.”
“And yet, I’m prettier.”
Oliver finally cracks a smile at his side.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “We tried to contact you through the radio, but you didn’t answer. Neither did my mothers. We’re here to ask you for your help.”
“Alastair, too?” Jude laughs incredulously. “I can’t believe…” but then his voice trails off as he surveys our truck. “Where’s Perri?” And he must have seen the devastation on my face, because all he has to say now is, “Shit.”
“He’s okay,” says Jude as soon as I’ve told them the entire story.
We’re sitting around a wooden table under the trees.
Oliver is keeping a close eye on Alastair, who’s refilling the truck’s water tanks by the river.
He has pulled his shirt off, revealing the expanse of his muscular back and chest, his dark skin glowing under the afternoon sun.
Both mutants are now naked from the waist up, and it can’t be a mere coincidence.
They’re posturing. I have to try really hard not to scoff.
My mothers have gone to cut wood for the log cabin, and they should be back at any moment.
“How can you be sure?” I ask.
“I know Helios, and I’ve met the Devil,” says Jude. “They’re both disgustingly nice.”
“The Devil buried his two swords in my gut,” provides Oliver, gesturing at the thin scars on his stomach. He healed pretty well, all things considered.
Jude rolls his eyes. “Honey, you deserved it.”
Oliver grimaces, but says nothing more.
“I need you to get in touch with the Beetle,” I say.
Jude recognizes my despair, and he doesn’t dally. “Of course. Follow me.”
They hid their slick aircraft, the Firefly, behind a rock formation. The reflective panels catch the sun filtering through the giant trees, making them shine like polished stone. Jude opens the vertical door and invites me to sit in the copilot’s chair. Oliver stands behind me.
Immediately, the Firefly comes to life. “Good morning, Mr. President. Good morning, Mr. Jude,” says Fyfe with a British accent. He’s the rudimentary AI controlling the aircraft.
“Let me tune in the channel, and we’ll be through,” he says. “Beet always answers.”
I try not to scream at him to hurry the fuck up. I can’t stand it any longer. After days of looking for Perri, my anxiety is coiled to strike like a snake.
A hand bumps my shoulder, and I look up at Oliver. “Jude is right,” he says. “My brother has a savior complex. Perri’s safe with him.”
Brother… That’s right. The mutants consider themselves to be part of the same fucked-up family. Which means Alastair, too, is supposed to be Oliver’s sibling. They were both created in labs during a twisted experiment.
I look down and realize Oliver is now wearing one of the colorful Hawaiian shirts Perri gave him, and I can’t stop the smile from pulling at my lips. Trust Perri to take nothing seriously, including a murderous electric mutant.
“The Firefly calls the Beetle,” Jude says to the transmitter. “Beet, it’s Jude. I need to talk to you guys.”
The answer is instantaneous.
“Oh, isn’t it my favorite dickhead?” says a female voice with mirth.