Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
Iona vanished from the room as the car pulled up, but did not wander far. Instead, she watched through the windows as the two strangers entered the house.
The woman was beautiful. Her face was soft, and Iona could tell that she had a deep familiarity with Liam. The easy way she moved around the house—she was just as home there as Liam was. Certainly Maple had welcomed her like a good friend, tail wagging as she demanded affection from the new arrivals.
Glancing back at the smile on the woman’s face, Iona realized something—this was a human she knew. Or, at least a human Iona had watched as a child, playing in the forests with Liam. She did not know the girl’s name, only that she and Liam had been very close In their youth. Now they seemed like little more than loose acquaintances. She had always liked the girl, though she did not know her as well as she knew Liam.
The other human was more difficult to pin down. There was nothing decidedly feminine or masculine about them. They wore a heavy sweatshirt, worn and patched in several places, that contrasted colorfully against dark skin. They spoke excitedly, playing a more upbeat record and dancing for a moment before getting to work .
Iona stepped back from the window.
It would have been simple enough to disguise herself before the door swung open. A quick story to smooth things over, and she may have met Liam’s friends while they’d be none the wiser. If she had been prepared for their arrival, perhaps she may have done so. Liam had not given her proper warning so she had panicked, and now it was too late.
Liam ran his hands through his messy hair and gestured about at the various boxes and belongings, and the three of them set to work.
There was no reason for Iona to continue watching them. Though she was fascinated, it only hurt in a strange way. Her time alone with Liam had come to an end, and the thought made her more upset than she realized. He was leaving soon, and she felt cheated out of what little time together they might have had. The skin of her cheeks blazed, but she pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to the wine that still buzzed through her.
Iona turned and stepped through the forest, with no particular destination in mind.
Unsurprisingly, she arrived at the tree that belonged to Vall.
This stand was unlike Iona’s, instead crowded by ancient firs. The tree’s trunk was slender but long branches stretched skyward, breaking through the thick canopy. Though it grew tall, instead of wide, it was no less mighty.
“Vall?” she called, not expecting an answer. They were most likely at the hideaway with the others, as they often were this time in the evening.
But Vall appeared beside her a moment later, a look of deep concern on their face. Firelights gathered, drifting lazily about them and illuminating the dark the forest in which they stood. Iona often wondered if the lights were summoned consciously, or if they simply followed Vall around. “What is it, Iona?”
She hesitated, unsure where to begin. Of all her kin, Vall was the closest to her, the one who might judge her the least in how close she had gotten to the human. But to share her feelings, to voice them aloud, would give them more power, and Iona only wanted to forget. Instead, she brought up the other development that weighed on her mind .
“The human had a guitar, created from maple wood with the signature of the Acernae.”
She watched the wheels turn in Vall’s mind as they considered what it might mean.
“An instrument imbued with magic?”
“Yes, not only made of maple, but created by one of our own. Which would mean the people of this valley know of us, at least, Liam’s family does. Though he himself did not seem to know anything. Vall… He could sense the magic within it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when Liam touched the guitar, he could sense its magic. And then earlier when he put a hand to my tree, something strange happened.” Iona paced around, restless, her mind racing. Of course, it might not mean anything, but given the circumstances, it seemed unlikely. “I thought it a rather normal interaction, but now I am not so sure. Have you ever seen a human that could sense our presence? Our magic?”
Vall thought for a moment, settling down on the damp ground at the base of their tree, hugging their knees to their chest. “I have not seen it,” they said slowly. “But that does not mean it isn’t possible. Perhaps this human has an affinity for natural magic? Does this Liam possess a gift of his own?”
“If he does, I am certain he does not know it.” The thought buzzed around in the back of Iona’s mind. She was not so naive as to imagine themselves the only creatures beyond the bounds of mundanity—magic was woven through the natural world, and some were gifted with its use. Iona also knew there were creatures that lurked in the darkness, cursed beasts, creators of violence and destruction. The Acernae were charged with the protection of life, but many supernatural entities were not duty-bound by such responsibilities.
“You believe he is sympathetic to our cause?” Vall broke the silence between them and roused Iona from her thoughts.
“I do. Though it is not easy, he has tried his best to aid us,” Iona answered hesitation. Whatever he was, she was quite certain that he was not evil.
“Then perhaps we need not worry, sister. ”
Iona could not let it rest, but there was nothing to be done about it, just as there was nothing they could do to protect their trees. Her time with Liam had not been productive in that regard, as they hit dead ends on all fronts.
She sat down on the muddy ground, the cold dampness of it seeping in through her clothes, but Vall’s body warmed hers. She rested her head on Vall’s shoulder, their presence steady beside her. Yet, it wasn’t the same. The others she called her kin, they would never be her family the way the humans were bound to each other, the unbreakable and unyielding connections they shared. The way that Liam spoke of his parents only proved how much he loved them, in the way his eyes lit up and went distant with fond memories. It was love, in the purest sense.
Iona could not recall ever feeling that herself, not in the same way.
She felt something like it for all the lives within her forest, from the smallest of insects to the mightiest trees. Her compassion for them was borne of duty, and of appreciation so intense it could be almost be mistaken for love. But it was not the same.
True, unyielding love, Iona concluded, was a magic only the humans seemed to possess. For the first time in her existence, that fact settled upon her with a deep melancholy, a longing she did not know she was capable of feeling.
As if sensing her changing mood, Vall shifted, angling themselves towards Iona. They reached up and ran a gentle hand through her hair. Threads of lichen grew between their long and nimble fingers, and Vall began braiding a few pieces in with Iona’s hair. It was a particular gift they possessed, having the patience to create ornate works of art with her hair, when Iona herself couldn’t manage to keep it tamed. It was a simple act of comfort that helped ease her troubled and churning mind.
“Something else worries you,” Vall said with their signature quiet wisdom.
“No, I am just afraid for our trees. That is all.” She cringed at how easily the lie had rolled off her tongue. It was not in her nature to lie to her kin, least of all Vall, but the truth of what troubled her would be too much to explain. Especially when she herself had not yet figured out exactly what it was that bothered her .
Vall made a noise in the back of their throat, but did not push the issue.
Iona relaxed, letting Vall work and the two enjoyed the chorus of crickets and frogs that filled the night air around them.
***
Liam woke to heavy rainfall outside the window of his parents’ bedroom.
He opened the curtains, looking out into the imposing forest beyond. Unlike yesterday, the sky above promised dark and damp weather, a mood that matched Liam’s own.
He stepped into the living room, closing the bedroom door quietly behind him to keep from waking his guests. Liam couldn’t remember exactly when they’d gone to sleep; they had all drank another bottle of wine or two from the stash his mother had left behind, and he was a bit jealous of their sleeping in.
The life had been fading from the room as it was packed away in cardboard boxes. No more stacks of aging records kept untidily in plastic crates—they’d been organized, a small pile kept to send to his parents’ new apartment, and the rest for donation. The photos had been similarly sorted. Annie had removed most of them from their frames and put them in photo albums that Liam’s mother had purchased but never used.
He looked at the empty walls, and a pang of unexpected nostalgia. Since he’d arrived just a few days ago, it seemed like so much had changed.
Another flood of guilt welled up in him at the way his evening with Iona had ended. It had been fascinating to spend so much time with her, to learn more about her existence and her magic. But beyond what she was, Liam found himself increasingly interested in who she was, her gentle but fiery spirit. If only they’d met under different circumstances.
Zev and Annie didn’t yet know about the loggers, and definitely not about Iona. He couldn’t tell them about her, afraid they might think he was crazy, but also because he knew she would not want him to. He’d been working so hard at gaining her trust, and Liam knew revealing herself was no small ask. If she had never spoken to humans before, he shuddered to think what impressions she might have .
The unannounced arrival of his friends at an inopportune moment might have cost him all the confidence he’d been working to gain. Not that he had any time left at all to gain it back.
If only he had found a way to make himself useful to her, and justify her trust in the first place.
Liam made a cup of coffee, staring into the dark liquid, his cold hands wrapped against the ceramic mug to warm them.
Maple trotted over to the back door, and sat herself expectantly at it, her deep brown eyes boring into Liam from across the room. Just a few days in the forest, and she was already growing used to her daily walk. She was, of course, unbothered by the rain pouring down or the cool morning temperatures that made the walk sound terribly unpleasant to him.
He sighed. If he was going to try to explain himself to Iona, this would be one of his only chances to get away from the others. Liam poured his coffee into a thermos and pulled on his boots and jacket.
As an afterthought, he pulled on a hat to keep the rain from collecting on his glasses. He’d kept a few of them on hooks by the door since he was eight, when he started wearing the glasses in the first place.
Just another thing to pack away before he left the house for good.
***
Not long after stepping out into the rainy morning, footsteps rustled in the foliage behind him. He smiled softly to himself—she hadn’t taken long to find him. Perhaps she was already waiting.
“Look, about last night—” he turned, expecting to find Iona, but was met instead by Annie. “Oh.”
She was dressed in similar rain attire—a long black raincoat slick with water, and tall rubber boots that went up to her knees. She looked not unlike a child, set out to play in mud puddles, and the image of her doing just that flashed in his mind. Memories of them playing as children were so close to the surface, out in this forest.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” She smiled at him, using her hand to shield her face from the pelting rain. “I saw you leave and figured I knew where you’d be headed. ”
“Uh, yeah. Just taking Maple out to burn off some energy.” He gestured down at the dog, who looked back at him blankly. He scowled, silently chastising her for failing to alert him to their follower, though it was perhaps only because Liam was still jumpy from their surprise encounter the other day. Maple looked unphased by his displeasure, and trotted along beside him, fur soaked through but not minding in the slightest.
“Were you expecting someone else?” she asked.
It’s not that he wasn’t happy to see her, he was. But he had been expecting Iona and was disappointed to be unable to explain himself. Liam didn’t know what his face revealed, but Annie looked at him curiously.
Liam forced a short laugh, but it didn’t sound convincing to his own ears. “Zev?”
“Ah, no. Zev is cooking up some breakfast.”
Liam nodded at that, unsure what else to say. He’d been wanting to spend time alone with Annie for weeks, but now she walked along the trail beside him, he was unsure what to say.
Luckily, she broke the silence for him.
“I still remember these forests like it was yesterday we were playing out here.” Her voice was soft and wistful, a little difficult to hear over the rain falling through the red leaves of the maples and plunking on his raincoat. “They were always best in the rain, I think.”
Liam hummed an affirmation, looking around at the trees and ferns that surrounded them. Spikemoss grew off the swooping limbs of the maple, so thick in places the trunks appeared to be weighed down by it. Among the mosses, the small fronds of licorice fern jutted outwards, stealing what sunlight they could under the forest’s canopy. As he passed, he ran a hand through the trailing epiphytes, his fingers grazing over the fibers.
He turned and caught Annie watching him.
“Do you still carry your field guide with you?” she asked.
“Don’t need to,” he said, and tapped his temple. “I memorized that thing ages ago.”
“You were always better at that than I was,” Annie lamented, but it was clear she didn’t really mind. She pointed and a particularly bright moss, that stood tall in cascading layers on the lower trunk of a nearby fir. “What is that fern?”
“Cat-tail moss,” he corrected. “It looks like a fern though, from far away.”
As they walked on, Annie would point to something here and there in the understory, asking Liam to identify them. He was a little rusty, but managed most of her requests without issue. It was refreshing to use the things he’d crammed into his brain at an early age, before it’d been stuffed full of more practical information. Better yet, they both relaxed into each other’s company and some of the stiffness between them fell away. The forest around them, so familiar and nostalgic, had certainly helped.
“Do you think our old fort is still there?” Annie asked. Memories resurfaced of the little hut they’d made with old scrap wood and twine. Liam grinned back at her, a twinge running through his chest at the fact she’d remembered.
She laughed lightly before taking off down the trail, her boots squelching in the mud. Liam chased after her, shielding himself from the mud that splashed up from her footsteps, and laughed alongside her.
It wasn’t long before they’d found it—little more than a pile of rotten wood now, but a skeleton of the fort remained.
It was child sized, only four feet at its highest point, and set between the trunks of three particularly sturdy Douglas fir trees. Liam’s father had sent them with nails to secure the loose boards directly to the base of the trees, but Liam had protested at the last second, unhappy with the idea of boring into the living tree. Instead, he suggested they use a bit of rope to secure the roof, and tied the walls together. Over the years, it was obvious the nails would have been the more secure choice, rope having long since decomposed, leaving the wood resting unstable against itself. Despite its disrepair, Liam couldn’t help but smile at the memories.
“Do you remember when we got married?” he asked.
“How could I forget?” Her smile back at his was genuine, and he could have sworn he saw a bit of color flood her cheeks.
They’d been eight.
He remembered the day so vividly, even though it was so long ago the memories couldn’t be trusted. He’d picked her a bouquet of flowers, and they held hands in front of the little fort and said “I do.” He’d been devastated upon returning home to tell his mother, when Maggie told him it was a little more complicated than that. He cried for hours.
Annie fell silent across from him, staring at the crumbling remains of their childhood. Liam wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was. He’d always thought that somehow, they’d end up together. But the past few weeks, the idea seemed more and more out of reach. Maybe what they’d had was just young love, not the real thing. Now he felt like they hardly knew each other at all.
She moved towards the old fort, but Liam hastened to stop her, grabbing her outstretched hand. He was embarrassed he’d grabbed her like that and dropped it immediately.
“I wouldn’t go near there, it’s full of poison oak.” He stared down at the clustered leaves he’d recognized immediately. They secreted an oil that was extremely poisonous, causing a severe rash to anything it came in contact with. It grew throughout these forests, but seemed particularly dense in this thicket.
“Oh.” She drew herself back. Her eyes went a little distance again, lost in thought. “Liam, look, I know we have a… bit of a history together—”
“Hold that thought,” he interrupted, though he hadn’t really been hearing what she’d been saying. “I, uh—left something, out by the old maple. Can I meet you back at the house? Maybe you could take Maple back with you, I bet she’s ready for breakfast.”
Maple wagged her tail at the word “breakfast” which only proved his point. A flash of hurt washed over Annie’s face, but was quickly replaced by a neutral expression and she nodded her agreement.
Liam took off without another word, sloshing through the mud back to the clearing.
Annie hadn’t followed him, and he stood in the clearing alone. After a moment, he called out, “Iona?”
He sighed a little when no response came, though he supposed she might be busy or elsewhere. It’s not like he knew what she did all day. It would be unreasonable to expect her to be just hanging around .
He called again and waited. This time when no answer came, he patted at his pockets, feeling for the little notebook he always kept on him, and scratched out a note. He tucked the slip of paper into a notch between the thick branches at the base of the tree, covered as much as possible from the rain. Then he emptied the last remnant of coffee from his thermos and left it there as well. He frowned down at it, hoping she’d understand what he meant.