19. Ilaris
Ilaris
Alone in the train compartment, I paced.
Ten steps. Twist. Ten steps. Stretching my cramped fingers, my lazy legs as I walked.
After four days, we should arrive at the station any moment.
Killian was out, walking the length of the train as he did daily, unable to stay cooped up in the tiny compartment.
It had the feel of a prison cell, as he pointed out, and there was no need to stay hidden away when the train had plenty of space.
Rows of seats for passengers, compartments for overnight travelers, a dining hall, and long corridors and rooms to disappear into.
All the same, a lingering doubt hovered in the back of my mind. The woman in blue. The Guardians. And worst of all, the Unmaking.
I limited my excursions to the dining compartment, pausing there to watch the landscape shift while I ate. It was good to escape Killian’s presence, but I often found myself eager to return.
The past four days I’d written furiously, absorbing all the stories, the lore of a lost world, as Killian shared. It made me feel connected to him in a new way, and even though he did not allude to it, I wondered if returning to life was a gift or a curse for him.
Some of his stories made me laugh out loud, while others made me realize how little life had changed over thousands of years.
The rise and fall of empires was largely the same—built with noble intent and poisoned by greed and corruption until society collapsed beneath its own weight.
Was my city, my government, like that too?
Had we come so far only to linger on the brink of collapse?
There was something ominous about it, the fact that through every age, each race walked the same crooked road and called it progress.
The train jolted, brakes squeaking. A rush of anticipation danced through me.
As much as I enjoyed the time with Killian, I was ready to leave.
My body had rested, healed, and I wanted fresh air to breathe, to have the wide world surrounding me again.
And, most importantly, thrill in the discovery of yet another mystery.
No books I was aware of mentioned the Verdant Maw.
There was only one ancient giant city, and that’s where I’d found Killian.
No one else knew of the other four lesser kingdoms. I, alone, was making a significant discovery, which would only add to my academic recognition and allow me to go down in history.
The train rattled and screeched to a stop, nearly throwing me off my feet.
Jasper uncurled himself from beneath the seat, his hair rising as he stretched.
Today he was the size of a medium-sized dog.
His ever-changing size was useful. He fit in with his location and went unnoticed.
Were it not for the horns, I’d think of him as nothing more than a dog.
Grabbing the bags, I slid open the door. I’d find Killian, and we’d be on our way. “Jasper,” I called, stepping into the narrow hall.
Something hit me. Hard.
I fell, dropping the bags.
Jasper barked—a fierce, savage sound I’d never heard before. He leaped, sinking his teeth into whatever had knocked me down.
I scrambled to my feet, but my stomach lurched. What Jasper held between his teeth wasn’t natural. It was moss-green and flailed, writhing under Jasper’s teeth. Screams rose from the front of the train, followed by an ear-splitting boom.
Snatching up the bags, I raced toward the exit, heart thumping. The train wasn’t full—most people had disembarked earlier—for few traveled this far south anymore.
I almost tripped as something else green leaped into my path, snarling.
It was like a mass of vines with muscles, rippled and twisted as it lunged for me.
I kicked out as I backed away, but it was fast, its muted thumps against the floor reminding me, sickeningly, of the Unmaking. Banging at the door.
It slammed into a window beside me, sending glass shattering.
I ducked out of the way, spinning as I reached the doors, which were bent, broken from their frame.
The creature caught my leg as I lifted it to exit, and I fell face-forward, dropping the bags, scraping my palms raw against the steps. My knife! My hand flew to my waist.
Heat surged behind me, and the thing let go with a scream. I twisted in time to see a ball of fire consume it. Killian. I scrambled upright, reaching for the bags, ignoring the stinging pain spreading across my knees.
The platform wasn’t much better. People fled, dropping their baggage as green creatures swarmed. And there in a far corner stood the woman in blue, her shepherd’s crook raised, eyes closed, hands uplifted. Chanting.
Anger twisted through me, sharp and unyielding.
I wanted to rush at her to interrupt her chant.
Unlike Harlan’s chant, this didn’t directly affect Killian and me, it affected everyone.
Did she not care who might be hurt or maimed for life because of her actions?
And why had she waited so long to attack us?
Killian descended the train, shirt smoking as crackles of fire broke through his skin in jagged seams of orange light. Heat rolled off him as he set the nearest tangle of vines ablaze. The creatures screamed and recoiled, giving us space to retreat.
“This way,” he called, voice rough.
I paused, eyes narrowing as I watched the woman in blue. The itch to fight her filled me, a desperate sense of justice. Jasper barked, breaking my concentration. He trotted out of the train with a green vine hanging out of his mouth and moved into Killian’s shadow.
I watched the two of them, just for a moment before resigning myself and giving in. If she were a Guardian, fighting her now was not our focus. We had to escape.
We ran until I was breathless, greenery rising above us.
The land was aptly named. Lush green hills, thick grass, waterways bending and twisting around us.
A wet scent filled the air, and in the distance boomed the crash of waterfalls.
Thick bushes rose, giving way to tangled forests.
Killian moved away from the road, and I followed, my heart thudding at the desperate pace he set.
When I looked back, we were surrounded by emerald blends.
The train station and all hints of civilization far behind us.
Jasper became the size of a horse, nudging my side to encourage me to mount. I did so, grateful to catch my breath as I leaned low over him, and we hurtled headlong into the thicket.
By the time our pace slowed, I was drenched in sweat, and Jasper’s fur was matted.
I slid off his back, slinging my satchel over my shoulder while Killian took the other bag.
Standing under the halo of green, I lifted my face to where the sky should be.
Translucent green leaves stretched above, three, maybe four times as large as myself.
There was no birdsong, only a persistent hum, a resonance like music, a chord struck then never released.
It reminded me of the strange music I’d heard on the island of Vold, and I wondered if they were linked.
Undergrowth pressed in on both sides, plants braiding with each other in unique patterns that took my breath away. My first instinct was to escape, but my second was to take a moment to appreciate the fleeting beauty and examine why I felt trapped.
“Where are we?” I asked, watching the line of Killian’s back, the holes in the shirt where his skin peeked through. Knowing he could burst into flames at any moment, should the vines attack us, gave me a satisfying sensation of protection, one I was acutely unaccustomed to.
“Close.” He made a fist. “I feel the heartbeat of the Maw. We arrive tomorrow, perhaps, or the day after.”
I looked over my shoulder, even though there was nothing but green stretching in all directions. My skin was hot, as though I were the one who was on fire. “Will she come after us?”
“Yes,” Killian confirmed. “She was watching us, waiting to see. You’re right, she was following us, biding her time, waiting to attack.”
“One of the Guardians,” I confirmed.
He nodded. “I believe so. We should go further. Despite my fire, it’s best not to sleep within reaching distance of the vines. It appears they serve her, and it would be a shame for the Maw to go up in flames.”
Just like the bank of Stonehaven, the forest, and the field of wheat. Everywhere we went, the world burned.
We walked and even though Jasper nudged me, I didn’t ride this time. It wasn’t his fault, but Jasper wasn’t the most comfortable beast to ride on. He slowly diminished as we continued, trotting behind me. The light continued to fall as we walked, but bright spots of light hovered in the trees.
Occasionally, when I looked through the semi-translucent leaves, I glimpsed a shadow, something in the shape of a human.
But when I looked directly at it, there was nothing.
I wasn’t sure what to feel: fear, annoyance, apprehension?
Was there something there, or just the odd light in the area playing tricks with my mind?
The hum grew louder until suddenly the trees ended, and we stepped out into a clearing.
I drew in a sharp breath, taking in the vast panoramic view.
We stood on a grassy knoll, gently sloping down to a river.
Far above it rose a series of jagged, rocky hills covered with moss, all leading to the summit.
At the top, a series of waterfalls poured down into the river where it formed, smoothing out when it reached us, calm, still, flowing gently with barely a ripple.