Where the Woods Grow Wild

by Nate Philbrick

  Trunder signs were everywhere—upturned rocks, patches of dirt swept aside, and of course the lingering smell of animal. Elodie stopped to observe the hill and the trees every few steps, but as far as she could tell, she was still alone.

  Breeze cooled her skin. A blessing, albeit a small one. The breeze turned into wind, and the wind moaned like a ghastly voice near the top of the hill. She followed the sound with her gaze.

  A great green stone jutted from the ground near the hill’s crown, and a jagged crack split the stone down the center, where the mouth of a dark cave gaped at her. Nayadu had said trunders preferred the dark, and if this one was hurt, it only made sense for it to seek shelter. The cave was straight ahead.

  Elodie stopped to regain her breath. She sat in a knot of oak roots and stared at the forest rolling down from her feet. Somewhere in that direction, the bridge at the edge of the woods waited for her, and beyond the bridge, home. She couldn’t go back, not without Martin.

  When she was ready, she faced the slope once more and continued up its leering face. She hoped she was right about the cave. The hill steepened to impassable degrees after the stone outcrop, and she didn’t fancy risking a long and painful fall.

  Elodie reached the outcrop. Sure enough, trunder stench wafted out from the cave. The face of the hill sheltered her from the wind, and everything in front of her fell eerily silent.

  She pulled Podgin’s knife from her belt. Her hands shook. It occurred to her—again—that she might land in serious trouble in the next few moments, but her heart stayed resolute even if her mind screamed at her to turn back.

  She took a timid step into the cave. It was darker than she had anticipated. She couldn’t see anything. She only heard one sound, a slow, heavy breathing in the blackness. She waited for her eyes to adjust, then ventured farther in.

  The cave was round, no bigger than the spare bedroom back in the cottage. The cave walls were smooth, dry stone. Gritty sand crunched under each step she took.

  A shape moved in the dark. Elodie went still. He was there, watching her. Smelling her.

  He came forth. Just one step, but one step was enough for her to see him. Sharp claws, muscled legs, a body covered in fur. Pointy ears twitched back and forth. A snarl on the lips, and the deadly fangs behind those lips.

  And yet, when Elodie met the trunder’s black eyes, she saw more than an animal.

  A breath escaped her lips. “Martin?”

  13. Brass Rings and Black Wings

  The trunder stayed where he was, half-concealed in the cave’s cold shadows. His unreadable eyes trained on her. His sides rose and fell with labored breaths as he inhaled and exhaled through bared teeth.

  “Martin,” said Elodie. “I know it’s you. Can you understand me?” She held out a hand.

  The trunder tensed, curling back his lips. He watched her hand warily.

  “Martin, what have they done to you?”

  Elodie spoke softly. Mayor Clarenbald had once purchased a mare in Aldenturf and left Elodie with the task of calming the spooked animal. This trunder acted much the same. His nostrils flared, his ears shifted, and a corded muscle in his shoulder quivered. Elodie tucked the knife back under her belt.

  “I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

  She took another step. A growl rumbled in the trunder’s throat. He shifted his wings, and it was then Elodie saw the arrow, embedded in his left shoulder. If she hadn’t known to look for it, she might have missed it in the low light.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

  Elodie was close enough to feel the trunder’s warm breath on her arm. She winced at the fetid odor, and when he saw her expression he withdrew with a snarl.

  “Stop it, Martin. You smell like a bucket of old meat, and I won’t pretend otherwise.”

  The trunder’s ears flattened. Elodie flinched. If he attacked, she had a slim chance of making it to the mouth of the cave. She searched the trunder’s eyes again, longing to understand what was going on behind them. His pupils shifted. One moment they were hard, and the next moment they became small and pitiful, almost desperate. An ache flared in her chest.

  “I know you’re suffering,” she said. “You’re trying to come out, Martin, but you’re afraid, aren’t you? Afraid of yourself, afraid of what you might do to me. You don’t have to be scared. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The trunder looked over her shoulder at the pool of evening light beyond the cave.

  “Don’t even think about it,” said Elodie. “You promised, remember? You promised you wouldn’t run from me anymore. I’m going to help you, Martin, even if I’m not sure how. You’ve got to let me come closer.”

  Elodie took another step forward. Her hand trembled, but she closed her eyes and gently laid her fingers on the trunder’s neck. The trunder knocked her away with a powerful swipe of its arm. Elodie landed on her shoulders. Pain flashed in the old wounds on her back, and she couldn’t breathe for a second. The trunder pinned her to the ground with a paw. His fangs stopped inches from her throat.

  “This isn’t you!” Elodie gasped. “Don’t let the animal take over, Martin. I understand you better than you think. If you hurt me, you’ll only be giving in to the part of you you’re so afraid of. Please, let me help you.”

  The trunder panted over her. At last, he pulled back. He retreated into the dark. Elodie waited for her heart to settle before rising. Her back and shoulders smarted from the gritty sand.

  “Fine, Martin! You think wallowing in this hole is the only solution, but I’ll drag you out by the ears if I have to.”

  Elodie pushed deeper into the cave. Behind her, the entrance shrunk to a pale circle. She could hear the trunder’s breathing ahead of her. He had stopped moving.

  She tried again. “It’s me. It’s your Elodie. I’ve known you since you were a skinny kid pulling my hair and startling me in the orchard. You’re not an animal, Martin. You’re the boy who knocked on Clarenbald’s door with a handful of bent flowers and thorns in your thumbs. You’re the man who put all your strength into scrubbing pots while others pitied you. You’re the warrior who threw himself headfirst into the unknown for my sake. And now, you’re chained down by your own guilt over what you’ve become. Don’t let guilt blot out the truth, Martin Colter. I refuse to give up on you, because underneath those claws and teeth there’s a stubborn, half-handed mess of a man, and I want him back.”

  Silence filled the cave. Then Elodie’s hand brushed against the leathery membrane of his wing. She paused, expecting to be knocked away again, but he barely moved under her touch. She slid her hand down to his shoulder.

  “That’s better,” she said. “I’m not much good at this, so go easy on me while I take care of this pesky arrow. And if you put those teeth anywhere near me, I’ll slap you.”

  Elodie worked her fingers through the trunder’s fur until she found the arrow shaft. “Try to hold still.” She pressed a palm against the trunder’s shoulder and gripped the arrow in her other hand. She clenched her eyes shut and pulled as hard as she could. The arrow slid out with a squelch.

  The trunder shook and let out a sharp cry, halfway between a growl and a whimper.

  “There,” said Elodie. “That’s done. You’re going to be fine.”

  Blood oozed from the trunder’s shoulder, but she had nothing to bandage him with. At least Illo’s arrowhead wasn’t broad enough to widen the wound. “Now, on to the bigger problem. We’ve got to get you back to normal. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be as patient as I have to be, but those ears just don’t suit you.”

  The trunder sank to the floor. Elodie cautiously sat beside him, leaning her back against the cave wall. She couldn’t see much of his face, and she wished she knew what he was thinking.

  “I’ve missed you, Martin. I’ve been so worried these days. For a while, I thought I’d lost you for good. We weren’t that great at looking for each other, were we? Maybe in ten years we’ll sit under the orchard trees and laugh about our mishaps
. Well, some of them. Some parts won’t ever be funny, like the dryad king, or the trunder attack, or—”

  She put her hand to her mouth, but it was too late. The trunder pushed away from the wall without a sound. His body blocked the light from the entrance.

  “Martin, wait! I didn’t mean it like that.”

  The trunder left the cave. Elodie scrambled to catch up, but by the time she made it outside the cave, he was gone. A fist-sized rock rattled past her from above, and she caught a glimpse of brown fur darting into the trees beyond the cave and the boulder.

  “You said you wouldn’t hide from me! You promised you wouldn’t ever run again! I gave you that stupid ring, and you promised!”

  Elodie kicked at the boulder and smeared tears of frustration from her cheeks. Then she forced herself to calm down. She made sure the knife was snug in her belt. Illo could take care of herself a little longer, even with her bruised leg, but she worried what Martin might do if she left him alone.

  She rounded the towering rock, leaving the cave behind. Trunder stench floated down from the hilltop. Even without Illo’s keen hunter senses, Elodie had little trouble following Martin’s trail around the hill’s crown. He still wasn’t flying, thankfully. Elodie slipped and fell in her haste to catch up.

  “See if I ever bring you oranges again.”

  The highest point of the hill challenged Elodie’s footing. Moss clung to everything like Clarenbald’s rugs, and the waning light made it hard to see under the trees. Elodie fell flat twice more before she crested the hill.

  She caught her breath in a tight oak stand. The woods spread flat in one direction, back towards the cottage, while more hills rose and fell in the other direction. She didn’t stop for long. She had to race the sun as well as Martin. His trail, punctuated by drops of blood every few feet, went straight along the hilltop and dropped over the lip, away from Illo.

  Not wanting to lose him to the night, Elodie sped down the northern face of the hill, a costly mistake, for her foot slid out from under her. Her subsequent roll down the hill came to a jarring end against a tree. Dazed and breathless, Elodie groaned and waited for everything to stop spinning. She checked for broken bones. All her limbs were still in place, but she predicted bruises along her ribs big enough to rival Illo’s leg.

  She stood, doubling over against the tree. She felt like throwing up, but her stomach spared her. The hill slackened from where she stood, and she could reach the bottom in a few more minutes of careful sliding from tree to tree. Elodie found more blood in the area. Martin’s trunder stink thickened, but she still couldn’t see him.

  Elodie folded her arms over her chest. “Stop wallowing in self-pity, Martin!”

  A growl in the trees answered her.

  Elodie whirled around, her hand on her chest. “Don’t do that! You…” She stopped.

  It wasn’t Martin, but the black trunder brute that crouched before her.

  14. Martin

  Elodie’s gut twisted. Her breath lodged in her throat. Her mind raced, and she ground her teeth to keep herself from panicking. The trunder paced like a wolf below her, cutting off any escape route down the hill. As far as she could tell, the animal was alone, but the ground behind her was treacherous, as she had just found out. She was trapped. Only one option remained.

  Elodie yanked the knife from her belt. “Have at it.”

  The trunder feinted an attack. Elodie flinched but stayed in place. The trunder pulled back, looking at her as though wondering why its prey hadn’t turned to run yet.

  Elodie figured the beast had spent all its life chasing after its meals. She would be running for her life as well, if she had anywhere to run, but if she gave it a fight, it might decide she wasn’t worth the trouble. She spread her feet and braced herself, her fingers locked around the knife handle, her only weapon. Her odds of survival depended on it. She exhaled slowly.

  The waiting game ended. The trunder tossed its head and attacked. Great bounds carried it up the hill. Elodie tried to dive out of the way, but she was too slow. The trunder plowed into her midsection at full speed.

  The blow picked Elodie off her feet. She landed against the splayed roots of an overturned oak with the wind knocked out of her. The sound of her pulse filled her ears. She tried to slide away, but her feet tangled in the roots.

  The trunder leaped onto her. Its rancid fur smothered her face. She held up her arms to shield herself from the snapping jaws. In the back of her mind, she knew that if the beast bit her, she was as good as dead, or worse.

  Elodie kicked and struggled, trying to use the knife to fight back, but a hundred pounds of animal pinned her down. The roots bent under her as the trunder pushed her closer to the ground. Her ribs were bound to crack any moment.

  Elodie expelled a burst of energy in a raw shout. She found a lucky opening and punched the trunder in the snout as hard as she could. The animal recoiled just enough for her to roll free of the roots. She brought the knife down, forgetting that Podgin’s blade was made for cutting, not stabbing. Her wrist twisted sharply and the knife slipped harmlessly down the trunder’s leg.

  The trunder drew back. It crouched low to the ground to pounce a second time. Elodie seized her chance and ran. The beast thundered after her.

  A spring cut through a boulder field at the bottom of the hill. Pools formed amid the rocks, too deep to ford and too wide to jump over. Elodie shot a glance over her shoulder. The trunder snapped at her heels. She had to try.

  She took two steps up one of the rocks and leaped as far as she could. Predictably, it wasn’t enough. She plunged into the pool. She pushed off the bottom and broke the surface. The trunder easily cleared the pool. It crouched on the rocks she had failed to reach, its tongue hanging out.

  Elodie slapped water at it. “Don’t taunt me!”

  The trunder swiped a paw at her. Elodie ducked under the cold water. She swam in the dark until her knuckles bashed a rock and she couldn’t hold her breath anymore. Elodie pulled herself up the boulders on her side of the spring, her hair slopping over her face.

  The trunder hadn’t moved. It was toying with her.

  Elodie’s foot slipped. She lurched forward to avoid a fall back into the water. The knife slid from her wet fingers and rattled down amid the rocks.

  She didn’t dare keep her back turned long enough to find it. She crouched on the boulder without taking her eyes off the trunder. Her lungs heaved for oxygen. In the precious seconds before the beast inevitably grew tired of its sport, she grabbed a hefty stone from the ground.

  “What are you waiting for?” She yelled. “Finish me if you can.”

  The trunder flew skyward. Here, in the break in the trees, it had all the space it needed to strike from above. Elodie wouldn’t get a second chance this time. She drew the stone back.

  Just as she was about to hurl it, a brown flash shot over the spring from the trees.

  Elodie cried out. “Martin, don’t!”

  Martin didn’t listen. He collided with the black trunder in midair. One of them howled, though Elodie couldn’t tell which. Locked together, both trunders hit the water and sank out of sight.

  Elodie dropped her rock and scrambled under the boulders on her hands and knees until she found Podgin’s knife. By that time, Martin and the black trunder had burst from the spring. They fought like two lions on the opposite bank. A frightening mix of snarls and whines echoed off the rocks.

  “Hang on, Martin. I’m coming!”

  Elodie leaped from stone to stone until she found a spot downstream where the boulders leaned over the water enough for her to jump the gap. She landed awkwardly on the other side. Towering rocks blocked her view of the trunders, but the sounds of their battle sent a shiver up her neck.

  By the time she wound through the boulder field and found them, the black trunder had Martin trapped under it. The brute gouged Martin’s chest with its claws. Martin didn’t fight back.

  Elodie screamed. “Get off him!” She threw fist-sized
rocks at it, but they merely bounced off its thick hide.

  Blind with rage, Elodie ran at the trunders with the knife held high. She swung it down with both arms, drawing a line down the black trunder’s wing. The brute howled and whirled on her. She stumbled back. She had to draw it away from Martin.

  The trunder wasn’t playing games anymore. It moved faster than she could react. She fell, knocking her hip on the rocks. Teeth clamped down on her shoe. The trunder pulled her toward the water. Elodie grasped at anything she slid over, but her efforts were useless.

  The trunder pushed her against a boulder over the water. She felt the stone slide an inch under her back. Just as the trunder gathered itself to finish her off, Elodie spotted Martin’s still form strewn on the rocks.

  She dug her heels into the ground and pushed as hard as she could. She was no match for the trunder’s raw strength. Bucking and twisting, Elodie let the animal push her back against the boulder. The impact nearly crushed her, but the boulder slid back some more. She heard a handful of smaller stones splash into the water behind her.

  The trunder lunged for her neck.

  Elodie let go. She fell onto her back and kicked as hard as she could. Her heel struck the trunder under its ear, drawing a harsh cry. The beast lost its balance. Elodie kicked again. This time, she caught the trunder below its wing. Clawing at the rocks, the trunder slid into the spring.

  Elodie ignored the metal taste on her tongue and the pain in every bone. She jumped up and put all her weight against the loosened boulder. Even as the trunder scrambled back up the rocks, she yelled and pushed with every last bit of energy she had.

  The boulder rolled over the edge and struck the beast. Elodie heard something snap. The trunder howled and splashed back into the water.

  Elodie waited on her hands and knees, gulping down precious air. She waited, watching, not daring to turn her back just yet.

  The trunder emerged from the water a couple dozen feet downstream. It scaled the rocks on the opposite side of the spring. One of its wings crumpled at its side. It glared at Elodie over its shoulder, then fled into the trees. It didn’t come back.