Chapter Eight The Forest Primeval—and Also Repulsive
Chapter Eight
The Forest Primeval—and Also Repulsive
I ran through a hallway made of teeth. It twisted around like a corkscrew, leaving me unsure whether I was running on the floor or the ceiling.
If it was the ceiling, I’d fall off as soon as I stopped, but there was no time to double-check.
I was late for my deportment lesson, which was taught by a particularly irascible swan-maiden.
She’d fly into a rage if I wasn’t there on time, and I had no desire to be pecked again.
The teeth bit into my bare feet as I hurried along, because I was naked. I must not have had time to put any clothes on. The swan-maiden would not be amused.
Swan-maidens have no business teaching deportment, anyway. It doesn’t take much skill to stretch out your neck when your neck is already five feet long. I’d argued to my stepmother that we’d learn more from, say, a frog prince. Someone who’d really had to work at it. But she’d ignored me.
When was I going to reach the lesson room?
The hallway stretched on and on. So many teeth.
Endless teeth. Was this truly a hallway, or was it a mouth?
It began to close in on me. Biting down.
It was going to chew on me for hours, like a piece of stringy gristle.
I had to get the teeth planted in the field right away, or they were going to—
“Melilot!” Jonquil shouted. “Slow down.”
I turned and saw her behind me, struggling to catch up. “There’s no time!” I said. “We’re late enough as it is.”
She was fully clothed, I noted. Typical. Little Miss Dutiful would never show up nude in a classroom. She’d meet my stepmother’s impossible standards or die trying. Again.
Jonquil rolled her eyes. “We’re not late for anything. This is a dream.”
A dream? What nonsense. This was just an ordinary day where I was running naked through a hallway that was also a mouth because I was late for my…
Oh.
I stumbled to a halt, and Jonquil caught up to me, panting. She glanced at me once, her eyes widening, and then carefully looked in any direction but mine.
“Did you want to put some clothes on?” she asked. “It’s just that, when I bring Calla in, you’ll be the only one not wearing anything. So if that would make you feel awkward…”
“What does it matter? You’re not real. She won’t be, either.”
“Oh, no, I’m actually here.”
“You are?”
“I spent the last month learning how to dreamwalk so we could visit you. Surprise!”
“You learned to dreamwalk in one month?” Entering the dreams of others was unfathomably difficult magic—the kind that wizened, ancient witches sometimes achieve after a lifetime spent staring at constellations and chicken entrails, struggling to unlock the secrets of the universe.
Of course Jonquil had worked it out in a few weeks.
Unless I was only dreaming she’d dreamwalked here?
No, she was too…steady. She didn’t fit in with the rest of the scenery, like an oil portrait dropped into a smear of watercolors.
The teeth shifted and twitched in the corners of my eyes, sometimes a hallway and sometimes a mouth, and sometimes the walls were green or sparkly or Thursday.
But Jonquil remained Jonquil, never once becoming a platypus or a hat rack.
I looked around in search of a tapestry I could wrap around myself, but the walls remained bare of anything but dentition. “I’m not sure where I can find a—”
“Dream,” Jonquil reminded me.
Right, how dense could I be? I concentrated, getting my thoughts under control, and a gown draped itself over me.
In the meantime, Jonquil looked over her surroundings with a fascinated air. “Are you still fretting over the tooth quest? I didn’t think it was that traumatic, as they go. Is it the near disaster at the end that bothers you? Or just handling all those teeth?”
“Do not,” I growled, “psychoanalyze me based on a single dream you have invaded.”
“I was only trying to help.”
“Melilot!” Calla cried, throwing her arms around me. “I missed you!”
Her boots were muddy, and her skirt was unraveling at the hem. How was she so disheveled even in a dream? She couldn’t have gone to bed in those clothes.
I softened a bit as I hugged her back. My sisters had been thinking of me and had wanted to see me, so they’d found a way. If their method happened to involve powerful, intrusive magic, that was par for the course in my family.
“So, are you in Tailliz?” Calla asked. “Have you met King Gervase? What’s he like?”
“No, not yet. I’m still on the road.”
Well, off the road and in the woods. I was about to mention that when Jonquil said, “Have you had any trouble along the way? Anything we should know about?”
I hesitated.
I could tell them about the spider wolves, describing my rescue and possible ongoing abduction by masked men. And no doubt my sisters would come racing to my aid.
But for perhaps the first time, I didn’t need their help.
I had survived the spider wolves, and I had deceived the hunters or robbers or whoever they were.
I was managing things well enough on my own, doing fine without my sisters intervening.
Which was not something I got to experience much, if ever.
It was far from certain my sisters would share my opinion of events.
Jonquil had asked if I needed any help within five minutes of appearing in my dreams, which neatly summed up how she thought of me.
The moment they heard about my circumstances—stranded in the woods with strangers—they would be convinced I’d made my usual muddle of things.
They’d set off to pluck me out of danger.
Whether I wanted them to or not.
I shrugged and lifted my chin, looking Jonquil in the eye. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s been a rather boring trip. Although honestly, you might have thought to put a spring arrangement in the carriage and some cushions on the seats.”
“Pumpkins are very resistant to suspension systems!” she replied, too defensively. Had I hurt her feelings? I’d only meant to deflect the conversation. “Turning plant matter into metal requires a fundamental restructuring—”
The walls began to shudder, teeth falling all around us like hailstones. One bounced off my nose and rattled to the ground.
“What’s happening?” Calla asked, nearly falling over as the floor heaved like a flapping tongue.
“I think she’s waking up,” Jonquil said. “Melilot, take care. I’ll do my best to bring the rest of the family along next time, so…try to be decent?”
“Next time, you should knock first!” I shouted over the noise of the dream collapsing.
Jonquil waved goodbye as she faded from my view. “We’ll see you when the celestial spheres are aligned again!”
Maddeningly, I was somehow both relieved and saddened their visit was coming to an end. “Wait,” I began. “How long before—”
My eyes blinked open to find a masked face looming above mine. A hand was on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake.
“It’s dawn, Not The Princess. Time to rise.”
I tried to figure out which one of them it was, but it wasn’t easy, especially with the vestiges of a toothy hallway still dissipating from my mind’s eye.
The hunter didn’t sound like Clem, and both his legs were on…
. Could it be The Nose Blower? What was that one named?
Kit, I thought. Or maybe this was Bloody Knee.
Jack. He was wrapped in a cloak to ward off the morning frost, so I couldn’t see if there were bloodstains on his breeches.
Once Jack got around to changing his trousers, identifying him was going to be even more difficult.
If this turned out to be an abduction, I would have to learn how to tell them apart. I might be spending a great deal of time with them while I waited to be ransomed. Or for my stepmother to show up with a poisoned apple.
“Come on,” whoever it was said. “We’ve got a long walk to the castle.”
All around me, the men were striking the camp, kicking dirt over the last embers of the fire, or pulling on their boots and gloves. They’d already donned their masks. I wondered if they’d slept in them.
The man who’d woken me turned away to finish dressing, and before he got his gloves on, I noticed a gold ring on his fourth finger.
A wedding band? Or an engagement ring, perhaps.
According to Sam’s story, Jack had been betrothed and then abandoned.
If that was Jack, interesting that he was still wearing it.
Where was Sam, anyway? I only counted five of the huntsmen, and none of them had a half-shredded shirt.
That was when I heard a snore from behind me and noticed my head was cushioned by something softer than I might have expected. I half raised myself up and turned to see it had been Sam’s stomach. He was still asleep. With his mask on.
Had he served as my pillow for the whole night? And had I slept the whole night through? That never happened.
I prodded him with a finger. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
The snoring stopped. “Every part of my body,” he said without opening his eyes, “hurts. I think I’ll just stay right here forever, if you don’t mind.”
“The sooner we get going, the sooner we can get you real medical attention. And maybe,” I added, “don’t fight monsters with your bare hands.”
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I save your life.”
“If you do, I might not have to save you from bleeding out afterwards.”
“We’ll likelie be able tae shift mair quickly,” Clem said from off to my left, “wance the twa of ye finish flirting.”
Sam made a sputtering noise that did not rise to the level of words. I blushed.
We gathered for a quick breakfast of hard bread and cheese, and I took some time to observe the men. The one who’d woken me up had definitely been Jack, I decided—he was still walking with a bit of a limp. For that matter, while Sam remained cheerful, he was barely capable of standing upright.
I tried to remember the names from the story. Hat On Ear was Max. Detachable Leg was Harry.