Chapter four
try to stay alive
T he wood before us was ashen, like worn fence posts. Gnarled limbs ignored the border; they grew out, reaching. At the roots, a thick miasma of fog oozed between trunks, obscuring the ground. What manner of things hid beneath that murky blanket? From deep within the wood, a faint cry rang out—followed by a frenzy of yips and snarls.
Some poor creature was being eaten alive.
I’m not going in there .
Darragh plunged into the fog.
Ugh .
I braced myself and trailed him, half expecting my shoes to sink in a soggy puddle. Thankfully, they struck solid ground—a vision exploded in my mind.
No longer in the wood with Darragh, I stood in a medieval village. All around, an uncontrollable fire burned. Flames flickered high on the thatched roofs, and even higher still, a fiery bird screeched in the sky. Over the roaring fire, screams came from a nearby building. I started toward it. The thatched roof collapsed, sending soot billowing out in a dark cloud. I covered my face. Smoke burned my lungs and someone bumped me, their agonized wails pounding in my ears. I reached out and tried not to recoil from the burnt and misshapen face that met me— as quickly as the vision came, it vanished.
“What was that?” I steadied myself against a trunk.
Darragh stiffened and looked around. “What was what?”
“You didn’t see that?!”
Darragh relaxed. “Fire?”
I stared at him incredulously. “Uh, yeah! The fire!” A thought occurred to me. “Was that a prophecy? Did I just see the future?”
“It’s not a vision of the future,” Darragh said. “It’s a warning from the past.” He climbed over a fallen tree and turned to help me. “Everyone sees it the first time they enter the wood.” Pondering that uncomfortable sentence, I followed Darragh’s wake through the fog.
“Where are we—” Before I could finish my question about where we were going, Darragh turned and placed a finger to his lips. No ambiguity in the gesture. Shush . The urgency in Darragh’s features alarmed me and I stilled. Realizing he’d frightened me, Darragh softened. He gave my arm an encouraging squeeze and nodded in the direction we’d been walking.
Well, yes. I know we’re going that way , but that doesn’t tell me where we’re going . I thought, annoyed.
Darragh rolled his eyes and continued walking.
Why’d he roll his eyes?
A positively horrifying thought occurred to me.
Can you hear me?
While Darragh gave no indication he’d heard anything, I was once again met with the peculiar sensation of water droplets trickling on my scalp. Ignoring the droplets, I glared at Darragh’s back.
Can you hear my thoughts?
Nothing.
Earlier in our hike, Darragh had removed his coat and shoved it in his satchel. Both mist and sweat had rendered his cream shirt semitransparent. The fabric clung to the rippling muscles in his back. What might it be like to trace my fingers along them?
Darragh peered over his shoulder. A curious, but playful smile tugged at his cheek. My mouth dropped open. Heat blossomed up my neck and I covered my face. Inside my head I screamed, ‘ We will talk about this later! ’
The faint exhale of a chuckle carried through the trees.
I didn’t have time to go through every thought I’d had since we met. A blood-curdling screech erupted from the fog to our left, a shrill, high-pitched wail that grew so loud, I slammed my hands over my ears. Darragh held still, and so did I. A second, third, and fourth call answered from our right.
The first call sounded again from the left.
Angry screeches called out from the right.
Closer this time.
They were searching.
Hunting.
Darragh faced me, his expression calm. This was, I admit, rather frustrating. I might cry. Or pee. Or both at the same time. Darragh made a flat surface with his left hand and used his right to make a running motion with his fingers. Taking my hand, Darragh gave it a reassuring squeeze. He mimed taking a deep breath, and I took one too.
Darragh nearly took my arm off as he leapt into a sprint.
A chorus of hungry screeches erupted. I fought the urge to cover my ears. If I let go of Darragh now, I would surely die. Underbrush crashed behind us as we hurtled around thick tree trunks. Darragh held so tight, and moved so quickly, I considered the very real possibility he might pull my arm from the socket. Though, I’d happily lose a limb if it saved me from whatever snarled at our backs.
All around, the fog swirled with movement. Beside us, I glimpsed grey fur as a creature closed in. It had four hooved feet and antlers, like a deer. The thing opened its mouth—its jaw didn’t stop where it should. A slit opened to the creature’s shoulders, exposing a row of jagged teeth. Gobs of foamy white saliva stretched across the gaping maw like some disgusting, stringy grilled cheese.
If I’d had any breath to spare, I’d have screamed.
Another blood-curdling shriek erupted from the thing’s throat. It rattled my eardrums, disorienting me so much, I struggled to run straight. Darragh stopped, and I pummelled into his back. He didn’t react to the weight of my body slamming into his, and for a moment, I thought I’d run into a tree.
“Don’t open your eyes.” Darragh pushed me to the ground. I got up to run, but something slithered around my legs, and they snapped together. Arms cartwheeling, I crashed forward. I struggled to see in the fog, but it thickened, cocooning me. My misty world turned black.
I was blind.
The cool fog changed into a warm, swirling wind. It grew hot, like a fire burning all around, but I couldn’t see a thing and—
The screaming started.
I covered my ears. It did little to hide the unending, agonized shrieks that battered me from all sides. The acrid stench of smoke grew thick; it burned my lungs as I tried to draw breath. I choked and trapped myself in a coughing fit. Just when I thought I might lose consciousness, the screams weakened .
Gasping, I sucked in fresh air.
Silence filled the wood.
Minutes passed; I don’t know how many. The binding on my legs loosened and the darkness ebbed from my vision. Standing a few feet away, Darragh’s face was covered in ash, and dark liquid coated his clothing. I struggled to stand, got a whiff of burned flesh, and gagged. A hooved leg lay beside me. It ended in a bloody, singed stump.
I threw up.
Dragging my hand unceremoniously across my lips, I asked, “What happened?”
Darragh brushed ash from his chest. “They ran away.” I scoffed and waited for the real answer. Instead, Darragh apologized for using magic to bind my legs. “I was worried you’d run off, and they’d find you before I could.” He paused, perhaps waiting for a thank-you that wouldn’t come. “Did I hurt you? Can you walk?”
“I’m fine.” I jutted my chin at his boot. “You’ve got red on you.” Darragh looked down, a hunk of furry flesh sat on the toe of his boot. He kicked a few times to dislodge it. He resumed walking and I followed. I didn’t ask why he’d blinded me. If Darragh could read my mind, he knew I was thinking it. He chose not to acknowledge it. If he could sense my growing distrust in him, he chose not to acknowledge that either.
We walked in silence for ten minutes.
Fifteen minutes.
Thirty minutes.
Gradually, the fog gave way to a living, green canopy. Birds sung happily in the branches, and with each step, my boots kicked up the musty scent of old leaves and pine. Up ahead, sunbeams interrupted the darkness as the trees opened into a clearing.
Darragh slowed so I might catch up.
A well-worn path began at Darragh’s feet, sloping down like a ribbon through patches of pink and white wildflowers. Farther still, it wound through shrubs and countless gardens fenced with chopped branches. The path ended when it met a small stone cottage, stained green with moss and shrouded in overgrown droopy purple flowers. It was so much like a painting; I wanted to crawl inside and be lost as a brushstroke forever.
Darragh gazed upon the cottage with the relief of someone coming home after a very long day. “It’s breathtaking,” I said. While I meant it as a compliment, Darragh seemed unsure of what to do with it. He nodded awkwardly and set off down the path. I followed, but my boot caught a vine and I stumbled. I flailed for branches, but only succeeded in scratching myself as I plummeted. A tangle of vines cushioned my fall but pain splintered through my veins like electricity.
WHAT’S HAPPENING?
My hands and legs were fire. Darragh yelled, but I didn’t hear what he said. I brushed my arms to remove the invisible fire, my hands only burned hotter. The surrounding trees spun, and hot vomit touched the back of my throat. As if I were nothing more than a bundle of firewood, Darragh hauled me into his arms. Where his body touched mine, the burning cooled, just a bit. Trying to manage the pain, I focused desperately on my breathing.
I’d burned myself badly once, leaned into an oven for mac and cheese. On the way out my forearms grazed the inside. The metal seared my arms, and when I recoiled, some of my skin stuck to the oven. I remember the pain as my flesh burned and tore… This felt like that. But no matter how I recoiled now, there was no relief.
Darragh moved quickly, speaking while he ran. I have no idea what he said. It was a blessing when I passed out.
** *
I woke, shivering violently, in a pool of water. I tried to scramble out. Two hands gripped my shoulders and pushed me deeper into the water. Only my head remained above.
“You’ve been burned,” Darragh said from behind me. “Your magic has healed you for now, but you must cool down.”
Feeling like a cat in a bathtub, I hissed, “Let me out.”
“No. You’re not cold enough.”
“You get in here”—my teeth chattered—“and tell me I’m not cold enough!” I wriggled against Darragh, ready to throw knuckles. Without releasing his hold, Darragh slid into the water. Still clothed, he swung around to face me. Back in the wood, just before those carnivorous deer meant to devour us, Darragh’s expression had been annoyingly calm. But now, deep lines creased his forehead, and his irises darted around my face, scanning me.
Now, he was afraid.
I inhaled deeply and focused on Darragh. On his high cheekbones and slightly sunken cheeks. Necklaces dangled around his throat, bits of carved wood and metal hung from thin straps of leather. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Hold. Forget the cold. What do you hear?
Trickling water.
Chirping birds.
A gentle breeze in the canopy.
With an even voice, I asked, “What happened?”
“Fire nettle—or wildfire. Keeps unwanted visitors at bay.”
“At bay?” I laughed. “Do you mean dead?”
Darragh didn’t answer. I opened my eyes to find he’d waded to the far side of the pool. Far away from me. He splashed water on his face, washing away ash and grime. No longer worried I might drop dead, Darragh crossed his arms over his chest.
“You need to be more careful,” he scolded.
Be more careful?!
“Maybe—as a responsible homeowner—you need to put a sign on plants that’ll kill your guests!”
“That would defeat the purpose then, wouldn’t it?” Darragh snarled. He climbed from the pool, muttering under his breath. Steam billowed from Darragh’s shoulders as the water on his skin evaporated. After a quick survey of the surrounding trees, Darragh craned his neck to the setting sun. He offered a hand to help me out.
“We need to go inside before it gets dark.”