The Black Forest

by Jennifer Martucci

  “They shouldn’t have a problem with it at all.” I look around, getting the odd sensation of being watched or overheard. Though I have no real reason apart from paranoia to believe we are, I still stare hard in both directions, challenging the phantom eavesdropper to show himself. No one does, of course, but Reyna stills and looks, as well. The weighted gaze and feeling of being preyed upon that was generated by the monstrous creature is absent. I let it go, returning my attention to Reyna.

  “What?” she asks. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head. “Just can’t be too careful, right?”

  “Right. Not even in a place like this,” she adds quickly.

  Especially in a place like this, I feel like saying. The nagging sense of something being “off’ here has blossomed into a strange sense of imminent danger. I’m not sure I understand it fully so I wouldn’t dare try to explain it to Reyna. But it clings to me. Like scum on a pond. I can’t shake it. And as soon as I can put it into words, I’ll tell her. Until then, however, I have to remain as I am, with my hands in my pockets and my mouth shut. “Not even in a place like this,” I echo her words. She looks directly in my eyes. I hold her gaze, which drops to my lips for a fraction of a second. In that fraction of a second my heart skips a beat. I do the same, mirroring her, and watch in my periphery as her lips curve prettily to a small smile.

  “See you in a little while?” Her smile reaches her eyes and they glow ethereally.

  “Yep,” I reply as I nod.

  She inhales and parts her lips slightly, as if she wants to say something, then immediately clamps them shut, opting instead to smile. She turns from me and places a hand on the doorknob to her room. Briefly, she pauses. I think she’ll release it and face me again but she doesn’t. She turns the handle and steps inside her room, closing the door behind her and leaving me standing alone in the hallway. I stare at the closed door for several moments. I’m not sure what exactly it is I’m looking at or waiting for, but I remain as I am, leaning against the doorframe to my room.

  After a few minutes pass, the door behind me opens and I hear Ara’s voice. “Lucas, what’re you doing out here?” She pokes her head out.

  “Just relaxing I guess,” I reply without any real answer to offer. Should I have answered, “Plotting to leave as soon as you and Pike are asleep then scour the village for something wrong with it because my gut tells me something is seriously messed up here” instead? I wonder. No, of course not. Ara and Pike are the reason I’m here. They’re the reason I never stop fighting. It’s my job to protect them. Perhaps they’re also the reason I’m so concerned about Todd and the other men. About this place in general.

  “Come inside and relax. I need to talk to you anyway,” Ara says.

  “Okay.” Hearing my sister’s need to speak to me sparks instant movement. In three strides, I’m inside. I close the door behind me and sit on the bed opposite her. Pike is on his side, propped up on his elbow and with his head in his hand. I look to both of them.

  “What’s up? What’s on your mind?” I ask.

  Ara’s features cloud. She chews her lower lip for several beats before her gaze meets mine. “I don’t think I like it here.”

  “Why not?” I ask. A small spike of annoyance creeps into my mood. It shouldn’t. I don’t think I like it here either. In fact, I know I don’t like it here either.

  “Lucas, you know why not.” She looks at me levelly. Straight through me. “You were there, weren’t you? You saw how Todd and the other men treated the women here, how they talked about them. Didn’t you find that wrong?”

  “I did.” I nod. I can’t deny I feel as she feels. I saw it. I heard it. And it added to the already negative feelings about the place.

  “The women are not allowed to sit with the men! What’s that about? They’re not good enough? Smart enough?” Ara’s cheeks are flushing as anger rises in her tone. “And his reaction to you saying I’m a better archer than any man you’ve ever met!”

  “Yeah, and the comment about Reyna being able to take any man in the village in a sword fight, too,” Pike chimes in.

  “Yes! That, too!” Ara points to Pike. “I thought Todd was going to choke! He didn’t buy it. Not for a second. The idea was alien!” Ara stands and paces. Whereas at first I was inexplicably chafed by her sudden change of heart about this place, it evaporates immediately. I find my level of outrage at the men in the village, which was controlled before, brewing like a summer storm. “Can you imagine Reyna with those women? And me?”

  I envision it. Her question spawns an image that echoes through me like a clap of thunder. “It won’t happen, rest assured,” I growl.

  “How can you be so sure?” Her thin arms rise then drop against her thighs. “We can’t change them.”

  “Said who?” I ask. Ara studies my face. She arches one eyebrow in question. “If they don’t respect you and all the other women here, we’ll take this place from them.”

  My sister stares at me. Several emotions wash over her face. Confusion. Disbelief. Worry. My expression remains unchanged. Slowly, her features relax and a small smile creeps across her face. I look to Pike and nod. He smiles, too. “How could they stop us?” Ara asks.

  “They can’t.” Now it is I who smiles. “But taking this village is a last resort. I’m hoping for a more peaceful resolution.”

  Ara sighs. “Me, too. This place isn’t like where we grew up, but the smell of the bonfire reminded me of it and nearly made me cry.”

  “Yeah, I felt that way, too,” Pike says. “My throat got tight. Made me think of Mom and Dad and all our cousins.”

  “I know what you mean.” I nod somberly. We chat for nearly an hour, until Ara and Pike yawn so often it seems as though they’re doing it every third word. “I think it’s time for us to go to sleep,” I say. I make a production of standing and stretching and yawning loudly. I haven’t told them of my plan to meet Reyna. Mostly because they’d want to come, too. I love them and never mind their company. But, in truth, I seldom have time alone with Reyna. I want it. I’m looking forward to it.

  “I’m beat,” Pike says and flops on the bed next to me. His eyes are heavy and I know that as soon as his head hits the bed, he’ll be asleep. And snoring.

  “I am, too,” Ara says. She crawls into bed, still in her dress, and slips under the covers. Within seconds, her breathing is deep and even.

  With both Pike and Ara asleep, I rest atop the covers until I hear a soft knock at the door. Carefully, I slide out of the bed. I move as quickly and quietly as I can and open the door. Reyna, who had her back to me, spins and faces me. Clad in the clothes she arrived in, she looks more like herself. Perfect. I find myself breathless and feeling like a fool for wearing the white shirt and tan pants left for me. I don’t feel like myself and I certainly don’t look like myself. “Are you ready?” she whispers.

  A part of me wants to say, “No, let me change and then I’ll be ready,” but I’m sure that won’t go over well. Instead, I say, “I sure am.” I step out into the hallway and close the door behind me as softly as I can. Without a word, we move toward the front door. As I turn the handle, I half expect to find it locked. It isn’t. The handle turns with ease and we step out into the night. Cooler than usual, the air has a crispness that my mother always said meant the leaves would be changing color soon. Heat and humidity gone, the sky above is a canopy of stars.

  Reyna looks up. “Wow,” is all she says.

  “Really,” I agree. We walk along the cobbled path past the area where we ate not long ago. The fire pit is reduced to ash. The pots of stew and platters of meat, vegetables and fruit have been removed and the benches are empty. The bustle has ceased. The chatter has fallen silent. A breeze stirs and blows an errant green frond from under the table across our path. The wind lifts it then carries it off away from us. Deserted and in the stark light of the moon, the dining area is desolate. A shiver travels the length of my spine. I steal a glance at Reyna to see if she notic
ed, but her gaze follows the frond until it disappears entirely. Though focused intently, a hint of melancholy touches her features. I want to reach out and take her hand but am unsure of whether such a gesture would be welcome. So I walk, sporadically looking at her hand and willing it to take mine. As expected, it doesn’t work. I give up and a thought pops into my head. “Hey, can we go to the gate?” I ask. “I want to see something.”

  “Of course,” she answers.

  Following the path between the low, stone structures, we arrive at the gate where we entered. I peer through the metal bars and find that our weapons are not where we left them. “They’re gone,” I say aloud.

  “What’s gone?” Reyna asks.

  “Our weapons. We left them. They were in a pile right there,” I point to a spot right beyond the gate. “And they’re not there anymore.”

  “Well, I can see why Nolan and the others wouldn’t want to leave them there, right outside the village, can’t you?”

  After a long pause, I say, “I guess.” I give a noncommittal shrug. What she’s said makes sense. Leaving our guns and weapons by the gate to further arm potential attackers is counterintuitive for sure. Still, somewhere deep inside me, giving them the benefit of the doubt feels wrong. Maybe it’s that our weapons, the very weapons that’ve sustained us thus far, are gone that causes me to bristle. Perhaps that’s it. I keep telling myself that as we walk the interior perimeter of the wall. From our position, we’re looking up the smooth, massive construct. From this vantage point, I notice a detail that was neither obvious nor remotely visible from the other side. The wall curves inward slightly at the top. This design would make throwing a spiked anchor with a rope attached for a climbing invader nearly impossible. I point it out to Reyna. “Look.” I point. “See how the wall bends in at the top?”

  “Oh wow. Yeah, I see it.” Reyna stops. I watch her eyes travel the upper edge. “Getting up the wall in the first place would be hard. With that lip, getting an anchor in place would be impossible,” she says. Her words echo exactly what I was thinking. “I can’t imagine how they built it. At all.” She squints, her eyes travelling the towering length of the wall. “It doesn’t make sense that anyone here built it. For starters, no one here seems equipped for building.”

  “They don’t seem equipped to kill their own dinner,” I mumble.

  “I know. They really don’t. Yet they have an abundance of food. Doesn’t make sense.” Reyna shakes her head.

  “No, it doesn’t.” I consider what she’s said. “I lived in a village where everyone hunted and gathered and we never had as much food as they have. Ever.”

  Reyna turns and faces me. “It doesn’t add up. Their hands and feet aren’t scraped up and cut. Their arms are smooth and look like they’ve never seen the sun. How is that?”

  I look down at my own arm. Cords of muscle entwine and gallop up to my shoulder. Hefting animal carcasses, water and the occasional person built them. Countless scars mar skin that’s seen plenty of sun. Wrestling animals that survived mortal wounds left quite a few. Burns from cooking over an open fire. Cuts from branches, bark and rocks. Each one has a story behind it. As I recall the smooth, pale skin of Todd, Nolan and all of the others, I’m struck by the dramatic difference between them and me. “It’s not possible,” I declare with certainty. I look up and find Reyna watching me. My eyes meet hers but only for a split second. They scale the wall. Another detail jumps out at me. “Where are the guards?”

  “Huh?” Reyna asks.

  “The guards at the top of the wall.” I point. “Where are they?”

  She looks up. “What the—?”

  “Explain to me how it is that a place like this exists in the middle of the forest—forget that they look completely incapable of building it or feeding themselves—and they don’t defend it? Why are they so comfortable? We were out there. We know what’s out there.”

  “Urthmen, monsters,” Reyna starts listing. “You’d think they’d have armed guards manning the wall.” She swallows. “It’s almost like they know no one is coming for them.”

  Every fine hair on my body rises and quivers. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”

  Reyna stands staring at me. “It doesn’t make sense,” she finally says. “Not at all.”

  “I know.” I look around. In the distance and beyond the wall, a night creature emits an ominous bay. “Let’s keep moving.” I cup Reyna’s elbow and resume walking. We continue along the inside of the wall, following it in what appears to be a large circle to the rear of the compound. There, we happen upon another gate. Larger and wider than the front gate through which we entered, the metal posts are close together with spikes at the tips. The only difference is horizontal bars that’re interspersed at regular intervals to fortify it. Starting at the top, I examine it. When my eyes reach the bottom, I do a double take. In the moonlight at the base of the gate is soft dirt. In the soft dirt are two depressions. Parallel to each other and deep, I’d swear they’re tire tracks.

  “Were those made by tires?” Reyna bends down to inspect the marks.

  “I’d bet my life they were,” I reply and kneel beside her.

  “How could that be? How could a vehicle come in here? What vehicle would come in here?”

  “The gate’s wide enough for a vehicle to drive through,” I mutter to myself. I stand and tug on the gate.

  “It’s locked.” Reyna gestures to a sturdy mechanism that holds the side that’s not connected by hinges to the opposite side.

  I begin climbing. “I’m gonna see what’s on the other side. I need to see where those tire tracks lead.”

  “I’m coming, too,” Reyna says and starts climbing behind me.

  Together, we climb until we reach the top. There, I’m forced to launch myself over the spikes and drop to the ground below. I land hard and feel the impact rattle every bone in my body. Reyna is right behind me. I catch her, but only partly. I manage to absorb some of her landing. Once we bend and work out the aches and kinks from the fall, we look down. What I see causes my mouth to fall open. A dirt road leads out past the rear gate. Imprinted in the dirt road are tire tracks, clear and neat.

  Seeing them, Reyna says, “What the heck is going on here?”

  “How is there a road here? And where does it lead? Urthmen are the only beings that use roads and have vehicles. How are they still alive if this is an Urthmen road?” I ask as my mind searches for answers to the questions it forms.

  “It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.” As soon as the words leave her lips, the gate rattles. The lock opens and the hinges creak. Reyna and I both stand. In the stony moonlight, Nolan and another man, Eric, appear before us. They each hold a sword. Our swords.

  “Out for a night walk?” Nolan asks. His gaze is dead and the wooden smile he always wears is gone.

  “You could say that,” I reply.

  “Had to be nosey.” Eric shakes his head.

  “Just learning about my new friends,” I answer then look to the sword he holds. My sword. My gaze returns to his. “What is all this?” I gesture to the road and tire tracks.

  Nolan’s features gather and his upper lip snarls like a trapped animal. “It’s none of your business.”

  “Why are vehicles coming here? There’s a road right here and tracks,” Reyna asks and ignores his comment, as well as the rage burbling just below the surface of his skin.

  “I said it’s none of your business!” Eric snaps. He struggles to compose himself. “Come on. You two are coming with us.”

  “We were coming for you later anyway, so I guess this is just as well,” Nolan adds.

  I do not flinch. “We’re not going anywhere with you,” I say with the calm and control of a coiled snake.

  Nolan smiles malevolently. He grips the hilt of my sword and lifts it higher. The blade catches the light of the moon. “We’re armed, friend.” He spits the word “friend”. “You two aren’t.” He slides a confident glance Eric’s way before returning
his attention to us. “You’ll go where we tell you to go.”

  I look at Nolan then at Eric. “Do you think those swords will protect you from us?” I stare at them unblinkingly then a smile slowly spreads across my face.

  “How about we take them from you?” Reyna says in a voice as withering as her gaze.

  Eric and Nolan exchange a look of amusement before holding the swords out in front of them. I suppose the gesture is meant to intimidate. To me they look like buffoons who’ve never held weapons before.

  Reyna advances a step. Eric’s face transforms to a mask of determination and anger as he lifts the blade, swinging clumsily. She dodges the swipe with ease, raising her foot and kicking him squarely in the gut. He loses his footing and crashes into the gate, hitting his head. He lands, unmoving, the blade released from his grip. Reyna steps forward, reaching for the sword. Nolan moves on her. He hoists his blade and is about to bring it down on her and cleave her skull in two when, in one swift motion, she grabs the sword that fell from Eric’s hand and drives it through Nolan’s midsection. The tip of the blade protrudes from Nolan’s back as crimson saturates his white shirt and tan pants. Shock washes over him. His mouth opens. Life escapes him and he falls to the ground. Reyna looks at me. Her chest rises and falls rapidly and her eyes are wide. “He said he was coming for us tonight,” she says in a tremulous voice. “The rest of our people…” she doesn’t need to finish her sentence.

  “Pike and Ara! I left them alone!” Panic pounds a frantic rhythm in my chest and fear flows through my veins. I scoop the sword Nolan held and set off at a sprint toward the building that housed our room. A single thought drills through me in time with my frantic pulse: I hope I’m not too late to save my brother and sister.

  Chapter 18