39. Harper
THIRTY-NINE
HARPER
I woke to an empty bed, though the warm spot beside me was proof that Wyatt had left not too long ago. There was no room in my heart for regret, or for the emptiness I felt inside. Right now, all that mattered was finding Savannah and figuring out what the hell Wyatt had planned for us.
But first, breakfast? My stomach growled in appreciation at the heaping plate of pancakes that I assumed Wyatt had left for me on a silver tray on the nightstand. I hurriedly shoved forkfuls of Gloria’s famous cakes into my mouth, eager to get started on packing. The suitcase wouldn’t do. If I was heading into Stirling County for the unforeseeable future, I needed to be practical.
Savannah was waiting for me in the kitchen, dressed in flannel and a puffy black Patagonia coat. I set my heavy pack down, my eyes dropping to her feet. “I never thought I’d see the day,” I laughed, taking in her chunky brown hiking shoes.
“I know,” she groaned. “I have no idea how they found a pair in my size, but here we are.” She grabbed me suddenly, her arms wrapping tightly around me.
“Oof,” I grunted. “Can’t… breathe.”
“Sorry,” she said after releasing me. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It’s a lot to take in.” She was solemn, her normally put-together face wrinkled with concern.
“I’m kind of numb to everything,” I admitted. “How are you handling it all?”
“Oh, you know…” Her voice wavered, and with it, all the unspoken things, the fears we were too scared to admit out loud, drifted between us.
“Are we ready, ladies?” Fiona appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, also wearing a Patagonia jacket with flannel. She smirked as she took in our matching outfits. “Glad to see we all got the same memo.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh. Before I forget, Harper, your dad left something for you.” She pointed to the counter, where I noticed the small white jeweler’s box.
My brow raised. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. But I’m supposed to tell you…” She scratched her head, as if deep in concentration. “Wait. I want to get this right,” she sighed. “Don’t give up on me now. That’s it.”
My face must have registered confusion, because she added, “Sorry, that’s all he said. Wyatt and him were in a rush to hit the road. And we need to as well.” She clapped her hands together. “I’ll meet you outside. The good news is,” her eyebrow shot up dramatically, “I finally get to drive one of the new Lamborghinis.”
I laughed at Fiona’s attempt to ease the tension, and shoved the white box into the front pocket of my backpack. Dad’s gift would have to wait.
Fiona ducked out the back door, leaving Savannah and I alone in the kitchen. We hoisted our bags onto our backs and trudged down the hallway, the mansion eerily silent. It looked like I might escape without one last Valentina encounter. “Where is everyone?” I whispered, not wanting to disturb the quiet. Or wake the she-devil.
“Connor and the wolves left to go stock up on weapons. We already said our goodbye,” she sighed. “He’s nervous about me going into sasquatch territory, but then again, there’s bigger things to worry about.” Savannah shrugged her shoulders, smiling sadly.
The guard bowed his head as he opened the front door. The frigid air hit us immediately, and we shivered in our gear. I grabbed Savannah’s hand and gave it a warm squeeze. “Ready or not…”
“Here we come,” she finished.
The cherry red Lamborghini Urus was parked in the driveway, and we hopped into the backseat. Fiona floored the gas pedal and sighed contently as the SUV purred to life. As we pulled onto the street, I glanced out the rear window for one last look of the estate. As the iron gate closed behind us, the golden G glinting in the early morning sun, I wondered if I would ever see the place again.
The farther we hiked from the parked SUV, the colder the air became. It felt like skeletons were wrapping their cold, bony hands around our bodies, suffocating us. Savannah huffed beside me, not used to the higher altitude. The leaves crunched under our boots as we trekked further into the forest, the brush thick and dense around us as we pushed our way through tangles of bare branches. If it wasn’t for Fiona leading the way, we would have been lost by now. There was no path or trail leading to the village, and I could understand why.
The sasquatches didn’t want any surprise visitors, especially not humans.
After what felt like hours, the forest finally gave way to a clearing – with houses. We had arrived to the belly of Stirling County, the place Wyatt had grown up. His true home.
The village was nothing like I’d expected. It was quaint, like a little English town – not the damp caves my dad had featured in his Bigfoot stories as a kid, and my heart panged at the thought of him now.
Clusters of moss-covered stone cottages nestled closely together. Smoke billowed out their chimney stacks as voices carried through the intricately carved wooden doors.
“The doors must be at least ten feet tall,” Savannah hissed.
“Shh,” I admonished, though I had noticed them as well. It felt as though we’d climbed a magical beanstalk for hours, only to find ourselves in a giant’s city. I just hoped that unlike the fairytale, we wouldn’t be dealing with angry giants.
As we carried on along a cobblestone pathway, heading toward what I assumed was Fiona’s house, a shiver ran down my spine. We were being watched. A curtain in one of the windows shifted, confirming my suspicion. Still, we carried on, and as we passed a grassy patch, I smiled. It looked like a children’s playground, made entirely of tree branches. A seat, carved from wood, dangled from a tree by thick vines. It swung back and forth gently in the breeze, as if propelled by a ghost. Nearby, children’s laughter carried through the trees.
“The children are supposed to be in school at this time of day,” Fiona sighed. “But I think everyone probably stayed home given…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence.
“There’s a school?” Savannah asked, carrying a note of surprise.
“Of course there’s a school. Intelligence has to be nurtured.” Fiona rolled her eyes. “Humans can be so dumb,” she muttered under her breath so only I could hear. I had to hold in my laugh. She wasn’t wrong. There was a lot we could learn from the sasquatches.
Fiona stopped outside a larger building that had been overtaken by brown vines. I imagined it must look beautiful in the summer, but now the exterior looked decayed and dead. “Stay here. I need a few supplies.” She set her bag on the wooden porch and pushed inside without knocking. I heard her call out hello before the door closed behind her.
Savannah and I shuffled nervously, glancing around the empty village. Dense forest surrounded us in all directions. It had taken hours to hike here, and it would soon grow dark. To say we were out of our comfort zone was an understatement.
A soft wail broke through the trees from the forest nearby. It sounded like a wounded animal in need of help. “Harper,” Savannah warned, but I was already running as fast as I could toward the sound of the cry. “Come back,” she called nervously, her voice shaking with fear, but I ran forward into the dark woods.
Amidst the trees, a small brown-haired child was lying on the ground, nursing a bloody leg. Tears streamed down her face, which was contorted in pain. An older girl kneeled beside her, one hand on her shoulder. When she noticed me, she gasped and ran back toward the village.
The smaller child continued sniffling. I kneeled next to her and whispered, not wanting to scare her. “Hi. I’m Harper. I’m friends with Fiona and Wyatt.” Looking at her leg, I quickly surmised that she had a fibular fracture. “Will you let me help you?”
Her large brown eyes looked up at me, swollen from so much crying. Her thick eyelashes were damp with tears as she gave a slight nod. “We were playing hide and seek and I tripped on a branch,” she moaned.
My medical training kicked in and I got to work quickly, ripping two small branches from a nearby tree.
The child gasped. “You shouldn’t hurt the trees,” she warned.
“I think the trees will understand in this case,” I said, as I took off my jacket and flannel shirt. She grimaced as I ripped the fabric of the shirt, which I then tied to her leg with the branches, creating a makeshift splint. “Almost done,” I promised. “Can I borrow from the trees one more time?”
Her eyes widened, but she nodded. This time, I broke off a giant branch. “Do you trust me?” I asked, palming the makeshift crutch. Her head tilted as she seemed to consider it. After a moment of deliberation, she nodded. “Great. Then let’s get you home.”
The girl winced in pain as she stood. But she was brave, and leaning against me, we hobbled back toward the village. As we neared the clearing, a group of women of mixed ages appeared amongst the trees, led by the child who had run off. My heart began racing when she pointed at me, threatening to thump right out of my rib cage. Still, I carried forward, toward the group of sasquatches, whose faces remained stoic. Had I unknowingly put myself in danger by helping?
A gray-haired woman slowly emerged at the forefront of the group. She clasped her hands in prayer. “I am Nameria , the child’s mother,” she whispered. “We thank you for your help.” She took the child from me, slowly leading her back through the woods, the way they’d come. The other women bowed their heads, a somber silence enveloping us, before they turned to follow. The injured child glanced behind her one last time, before disappearing into the village. As her eyes met mine, I saw a tiny smile form at the corner of her mouth.
I stood shivering in my T-shirt, aware of the cold since the danger had passed, and had to backtrack to collect my jacket and backpack from where the child had lain earlier. A rustling in the trees startled me. It was Fiona, and she looked pissed. “You took a big risk,” she scolded. “You’re lucky it paid off. The women have been whispering around the village, saying good things. But…” her face grew even more stern, if that was possible, “when I order you to stay, you need to listen,” she chastised. “Wyatt put me in charge of keeping you safe.”
“I’m sorry, Fiona.” I followed her silently back to the village, to where we’d left Savannah.
Savannah’s face broke when she us. “Thank God. Don’t leave me alone next time.” Her lower lip trembled.
“Sorry,” I apologized.
“You scared me,” she admitted, as we carried on through the village. “Especially when those women appeared.”
As we continued along the cobblestone pathway, the eerie silence from before was replaced with something else. Gentle laughter floated between the homes. A curtain shifted in a window, and I caught a woman peering through the pane as we passed. As we made eye contact through the glass, I thought I caught the hint of a smile.
We came to a small cottage at the far end of the village. A white picket fence surrounded a beautiful garden teeming with plants, and tiny birdhouses hung from the front porch with wind chimes, tinkling in the wind. “Welcome to my home,” Fiona grinned. “You should see my garden in the summer,” she said, as if reading my mind.
I reached out to touch a giant red fern. It looked like one I had seen in my dad’s books, though I didn’t know the name. “Your garden is amazing,” I said in awe. “You know, I always thought I’d have a career working with plants and flowers. Not journalism,” I laughed. “Maybe I should take a page from you.”
“It’s never too late.” She winked and climbed the steps, reaching for a key hidden beneath a garden gnome, next to a small plate of sparkly treasures.
“You lock your door?” I asked, surprised.
“Not for danger,” she explained. “For mischievous little hands. The forest is a wonderful place to grow up, but for some small minds, it can be boring and restrictive. You have to make your own adventures.”
As we went inside, I wondered if Fiona had been one of those youth searching for adventure. Shelves lined every inch of wall space, stuffed with jumbles of books. I instantly felt at home.
Above the couch, Fiona had hung a large map of the world. Savannah squinted at the writing. “What language is this?”
Fiona and I both chuckled. There was still a lot Savannah didn’t know about the sasquatches, and even I had much more to learn. After we resolved thing with the Carders, would I still have reason to be a part of this world? Wyatt had made it clear he wasn’t interested in friendship with me, but what about Fiona? I was starting to think of her as a friend.
Fiona set a record onto the turntable and the deep, rich sounds of a cello filled her home, evoking a somber mood. “I’ll show you girls to your bedroom. I hope you’re okay sharing a bed. It’s a tiny guest room.” Savannah and I looked at each other and nodded.
It turned out Fiona was an amazing chef, one who could rival Gloria. She quickly whipped together a vegetable stew that filled our bellies, which we ate sitting around the small round table.
Yawning, I realized I was wiped from the full day of travel. I looked at Savannah, whose eyes were tiny slits, worn thin with exhaustion. We said goodnight to Fiona, and tucked in for the night. Before drifting to sleep, I sent a wish out into the darkness of the night, that Wyatt and my dad would come back to me in one piece. And that this would all be over soon.