Chapter Twenty-Four
Wyatt
I was hoping to think of another escape plan when I got back to the hut, that looks unlikely now. “Um… what exactly is this trial?” I glance at their faces expectantly, but no one answers. Caelan simply gestures towards the far left of the valley, over the small wooden bridge.
Anxiously, I follow Caelan with Arel at my side. Going over in my head the vast number of trials I can come up with: fighting pits, ogre races, and wolf taming.
In each, I would die.
We finally arrive in the shadow of an enormous tree, the biggest I have ever seen. Its girth is at least four times my height. Its dark brown bark, shimmers in the sunlight like an iridescent mirage.
I look around the tree, wondering what the trial is, nothing around gives any hints.
A sparkling glimmer whirls around the bark, luring me in. Tentatively, I approach. I reach my hand forward, and the glow warps into a tall wooden door with an inscription on the top.
“With no handle and no key, how do you propose to open me?” I read the inscription repeatedly before turning to Caelan.
I point to the inscription. “What is that supposed to mean?” My eyes dart back and forth between the door and Caelan.
“Simple,” Caelan says, reaching forward, knocking on the door three times.
The door rumbles in a deep laugh as a face appears on the wood. “Welcome, who do we have today?”
Caelan answers the door like he’s talking to an old friend while I sit there in awe at the talking door.
The door's eye narrows on me. “Well? What is your name? It’s rude to ignore a Chestnut Tree, or at least this one.” The face scowls at me.
“I’m sorry, I’ve never spoken to a tree before.” This is absurd, and now I’m apologising to a tree. If Andi could see me now, she would never let me live this down. “Wyatt.”
“Wyatt… are you ready? What do you call a door that’s a great actor?”
The tree’s eyebrows raise, if that’s even possible. I turn to look at Caelan and Arel, they don’t seem phased by this at all, they watch me with their arms crossed, waiting.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
The chestnut tree grumps, “Have you never heard a joke before?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” There I go again, apologising to a damn tree. “I don’t know. What do you call a door that’s a great actor?”
The tree snorts, the branches above shake and leaves fall to the ground. Birds fly away in annoyance, angrily chirping as they go.
“A dramatic entrance.” The tree door bursts into a fit of laughter, its eyes on me.
Arel nudges me, and I force a chuckle, slapping my knee. “That’s a good one.” I pretend to wipe away tears. The door swings open whilst continuing to giggle. I glance at Caelan and Arel as they walk through the door, “So what’s the next trial?”
“You’ve not even started yet.”
If someone had told me last week, I would be walking through a tree into a strange mystical place, I would have laughed in their face. Honestly, this is crazy. I follow behind Caelan and Arel into a tunnel through the tree’s open door.
My eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness. Plants scale the walls, in radiant blues, purples, and oranges, lighting up the dim cave. My jaw drops, trying to comprehend how all this can be hidden within a tree, even one as big as that old chestnut.
The walls are an inky blue with luminous lantern-like plants hanging from the cave walls, lighting up the narrow paths.
Small trees with pink-red leaves, hills, and waterfalls in this strange, extensive cave; with identical wooden bridges connecting the ridges.
Multicoloured fruits grow from bushes and plants, in distorted colours, purple apples, red bananas, blue oranges.
My mind is warped trying to make sense of this weird world.
I turn to Caelan and Arel, who remain beside the open door of the tree.
“Welcome to your first trial,” Caelan says.
“There is an exit further into the cave, which you will need to find if you want to leave. This door will shut and remain closed. You cannot open it from the inside, and I wouldn’t try if I were you. ”
I look to Arel for help, surely, I can’t be locked in this cave, what if I never find the way out?
“You’ll be fine, just remember, nothing is as it seems in here. You can eat the fruit but eat too much and you’ll end up wishing you hadn’t. Good luck,” Arel says, gracing me with a thumbs up as he and Caelan walk back out the tree door, closing it behind them.
My eyes linger on the door for the longest time, waiting to see if this is just some joke they’re playing on me, but the door appears to be locked tight. I try feeling my way around the frame, looking for a hidden handle or switch to open the door, despite the warning not to try.
My fingers feel some rough wood that moves a little.
I dig my fingers in and pull gently, the door shudders, and a branch smacks into me, throwing me onto my back.
Groaning with the impact, I stand and flip off the door, the branch swings back out again.
But this time, I jump back to avoid being hit again. Temperamental door.
Being almost midday, my stomach starts to rumble, but I refuse to taste those strange fruits if I don’t have to.
In the middle is a large chasm with ridges on either side; it’s huge.
Three bridges lead off the ledge I stand on.
The left bridge looks sturdy but veers off into a pitch-black corner, the middle is wooden but looks like it doesn’t have an end, only into the abyss.
I have more chance of dying than finding the exit.
The third is my safest option, looking relatively sturdy with rope handrails.
It also seems to be the only choice with a pre-marked path filled with trees and bushes, crevices and nooks, anything could appear to be a door or cover a door.
Placing my foot on the wooden bridge, which seemed sturdy from afar, is now wobbly with every movement.
The wooden planks creak and groan with each step, threatening to split under my weight.
I force my feet to keep moving and my eyes straight ahead.
I wouldn’t say I’m scared of heights; more the danger surrounding it.
Like if I’m walking up a tall hill, that’s fine, but if I’m walking across, let’s say a rickety bridge over shadowy depths, then yeah, I’m fucking terrified.
I don’t know how long it’s been down here, surprised it’s still in one piece at all.
As I near the final plank, it cracks, breaking apart.
I throw myself off the bridge, landing onto the dusty ledge.
My legs wobble when I stand, and my stomach is in knots, like I’ve stepped onto a ship on a choppy ocean for the first time.
My legs were trying to adjust to the swaying of the bridge, and now, on solid ground, they still think they need to move with the motion.
The path is lined with yellow trees with neon blue leaves that swish high above me, with what looks like gemstones dangling from their branches. I pick one from a low-hanging branch. They’re rock hard and reflecting sparkling glints of gold and silver. I slip a stone into my pocket as a souvenir.
Droplets of water splash onto my skin from the waterfall at my right.
Cool, muted pink water, flows across the path like a tiny river, falling into the void below.
A blast of warm air bursts from one crevice beside me, with a heat like the height of summer in Vendyl.
I cup some of the flowing water into my hands, but it transforms into insects before I can bring it to my mouth.
I yell, tossing them on the ground and leaping away from the toxic water, heading further down the path.
The ground shakes and rumbles beneath my feet like an earthquake. Boulders roll down the slanted walls from the roof of the cave. Rolling across the path and crashing at the edge against a jagged rock. Splitting open, a group of butterflies soars high before vanishing.
Just as I reach the boulder's arc, they pick up speed, darting across the path. A sense of dread swamps my senses, and I dive between the boulders with seconds to spare. Panting, resting my arms on my knees, and shaking my head.
What is this place? How can a place like this exist?
Continuing down along the rocky path, it begins to narrow. Forcing me to walk sideways along the crag, clinging to the wall, digging my fingers into rough edges along the cliff face. My foot slips, and dirt and stones fall from beneath my feet to the dark depths below.
Gripping harder to the wall, my hands ache from digging my fingernails into the stone. I fall to my knees when the path widens, caressing my tender hands, red and cracked, already forming calluses.
I gaze across the cavern. I’ve somehow reached the other end of the cave, but still no door. I have rustled every bush, pried every crevice, and felt my way along the walls for anything unusual.
Nothing.
One opening in the wall seems promising as it has a switch, but as I pull it, a gust of ice-cold air smacks me in the face, and icicles cling to my hair.
Arel said, ‘Nothing is as it seems.’
Where are the tales of caves like this? I would have been captivated by reading stories about magical caves when I was a child, with its strange-looking plants, deadly waterfalls, and weird boulders. This would have made a great game for Andi and me.
Whose stupid idea was it to do these trials anyway? Prove my worth. I could have just left, risked death by going it alone. Doing something productive like storming Zury to find Nia and Elana.
Instead, I’m trapped in a magical tree.
This absurd cave spared me thoughts of Nia and Elana for a short time.
But nothing will remove them from my mind completely.
Not that I want it too. I want to feel the guilt of losing them, the shame of not being strong enough to protect them.
But I will get them back. And I will get vengeance on Adrian.