Eyes like bright suns, they stared in wonder at the trees. Tall trees with smooth green coconuts, shorter trees with rows of yellow bananas, bushy trees with green almonds. The boy ran to a trunk, then jumped and jumped until his hand caught the end of a bunch of bananas and pulled it down.
“It looks ripe,” he said, turning the fruit over in his hand.
“How can you tell?”
“Dad showed me pictures in one of his books. Watch.” Val gripped the top and pulled the yellow skin down in strips. The fruit inside sparkled in the sun. Petari quickly snapped off the top, brought it to her mouth, and—
Val ripped it away. “Wait! What if this is a trap?”
“Are you serious? What kind of trap?”
“I don’t know.” Val glanced around. “This place is suspicious. What if people put that hole in the rock to lure kids in here then poison them with this fruit?”
Petari snatched the banana back. “Poisonous fruit? Growing from a tree? Really?”
“Poisonous stuff does grow on trees. And people could make a tree grow poisonous fruit, you know.”
Val tried to grab the banana back, but Petari quickly bit down on the textured goodness. She smiled, her eyes lit up, tongue licking every morsel from her lips.
“If this is poisonous, I— Oh no. No!” She grabbed her stomach, bent over, then collapsed onto her knees.
The boy grabbed her elbow to keep her upright.
“Petari!” Fear hung from Val’s voice. “I knew this was a bad idea. I—”
“Ha ha ha ha.” Petari threw her head back, laughing. Her brother stood quickly, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“Not funny,” he said, crossing his arms. I had to admit I agreed with him. The bananas in this forest are loved by all.
“Very funny.” Petari grinned and pulled another banana from the bunch. “Go on. Try it. They’re so good.”
Val gave her a side-eye look, sniffed his banana, then nibbled the end. His mouth ticked up into a broad smile. He stuffed the rest into his mouth, then pulled down another and another, until their bellies were full.
“We have to show the others,” Petari said. “We should take some with us, so they can see we’re not lying.”
“When they don’t hear our stomachs rumbling, they’ll know we’re not lying,” Val said. “But yeah, let’s take some. Only what we can hide, though. We don’t want questions if we get caught by the goons.”
“Good idea.” Petari grabbed two bananas and pressed them against her belly, concealing them carefully under her shirt. She grinned at the boy. “This is the best discovery since you found that stash of toilet paper.”
Val nodded. “Hey, maybe the fruit will make Ruthie better.”
Petari plucked another banana from the bunch and peeled it. “Told you it was a good idea to come in here.”
My hope dwindled. If we could not close the curtain soon, these two would no doubt return, maybe with others.
And what if they went only a few steps farther? What if their gaze twisted between the trees? What if they found—
“Val, look!” Petari froze.
I knew then that the forest was doomed.
The girl’s arm stretched out, one finger pointing to a thin gap in the growth. The air around Val vibrated when he spied what she had. Beams that were horizontal instead of reaching for the sky. Colors and shapes that were not of nature.
Petari hurried forward, but her brother whipped out a protective arm. “Wait!” He threw her a frown. “I’ll go first.” And he stepped closer.
As the forest opened to the savanna, their eyes widened.
The old structure had no walls, just poles and a roof. Grass and small trees had begun to reclaim the spot, but the structure was still intact and enjoyed by the chittering monkeys hanging in the shade it offered.
Beyond, the humans saw the village that had been left so many years before. The huts, the fences, the open field where the young Forest Dwellers would kick a ball and cheer when it was corralled within lines.
“Do you see anyone?” Petari asked, stretching her neck as though a few inches could reveal the world.
Val shook his head. “I don’t think anyone’s been here for a long time. And look!” He ran, Petari close on his heels. “A river. A proper river, with water still in it.”
Petari gazed at the glistening water so close to her toes. She reached down but stopped when the boy said, “It’ll be polluted.”
“Even in here?”
“The water’s polluted everywhere. You think here will be different?”
Petari pouted. “Mercou will know how to filter it. And look over there.” She pointed at the thick forest on the other side of the river. “How many tasty foods do you think are over there?”
Val stared at the girl. “Don’t get any ideas. Who knows how many dangerous creatures live in this water. Remember the story Dad told us about that giant shark that attacked people at a beach?”
“That was just a movie. Wasn’t it?”
But Val didn’t answer.
“Besides,” Petari continued, “wasn’t that in the ocean?”
“Oceans connect to rivers.”
“They do?” Petari’s eyes widened, her heart ticking up at this news. I had never heard stories of giant sharks attacking people at a beach, but it had spooked the girl. Good.
She turned away from the river and gazed back at the village. “Still, we were wrong before. This is the best discovery ever.”
As they retraced their steps back through the trees to the hole that had brought them through the curtain to their great discovery, excitement spun in the air around them. Petari lifted one palm, and Val slapped it with his own. Smiles beamed bright on their faces.
I felt their footsteps retreat toward where stone ruled the land, where the soil was dusty and the air was dry. But I knew they’d be back. I knew they’d be back soon.
Any hope I had held of the forest staying hidden drained away.
I reached into the soil, connected with the root network, and alerted the rest of the forest.
5
THE BLIGHT CREPT INTO MORE TREES. IN THE NORTH, ONE LEAF ON A YOUNG RUBBER TREE SPECKLED. THEN ANOTHER.
AND ANOTHER. UNTIL THEY WERE ALL COVERED IN DOTS.
“Arrow!” I called, but he was too far to hear my words. He was still taking in every inch of the Burnt Circle.
The images from the dragonflies showed me he had enticed Curly to join him. Curly’s brothers and sisters had followed, peering into the carcass of the metal bird as though they’d discovered lost treasure. None were listening for me.
I tried to dig deeper, to summon more Anima. But there wasn’t enough to stitch the hole in the curtain back together again.
I had always known this day would come, when our secret would be secret no more and we would be exposed to the humans again. But I had hoped it would be many, many rings from now. If we’d had more time, we could’ve discovered why the magic was diminishing. We could’ve fixed it, thickened the curtain, stayed hidden forever.
But focusing on problems would do no good. I needed solutions. And I needed them fast.
That’s when I felt the cold fear that had seeped into the charred soil. Arrow was in trouble.
I asked frogs for help, and they showed me the boy.
He was gazing at his palm, a frown clouding his face. I quickly understood why. I felt a small tap on the surface of the soil, then a slickness. Rainbow liquid had dropped from the carcass of the metal bird. This machine sap had been brought into the forest by the Imposters too, and it had ignited just as quickly.
The images of the fire devouring the liquid when the bird had crashed out of the sky flooded back to me.
There was no fire for it to feed now, but what if it created one? Uncontrolled fire was dangerous in the forest.
I did not like Arrow being so close to that liquid.
I did not like it being so close to our trees.
Arrow must’ve recogniz
ed it too. He retreated quickly, worry creeping onto the ground around him. He rushed to the river’s edge, tearing at his hand where it had touched the rainbow liquid. Smart. I didn’t want it to hurt him the way it had hurt the Kiskadee Man.
While Arrow scrubbed, the footsteps returned in the north. The Petari girl and her brother, Val. They came back even quicker than I had expected, and I was not prepared.
Arrow was too far to hear me call, and he had his own troubles.
Even worse, the children weren’t alone. This time, they were joined by a small herd. None of the footsteps were as heavy as the Kiskadee Man’s, and none of their energy was as old. All of these humans were still children, some around Arrow’s age, like Petari, some younger, and some older.
But they were still dangerous.
Many were laden down, walking on their heels to balance what they held in their arms, or walking on their toes to stabilize what they carried on their backs.
They came through the hole one by one, each stopping when they were inside. I didn’t need the dragonflies to know the children were gazing around in awe at the lush growth, just like Petari and Val had. Their words confirmed it.
“Wow!”
“It’s incredible.”
“How is this here?”
“Why didn’t we find this sooner?”
The herd chatted happily, slapped hands, patted shoulders, as fear spread through my roots.
“You sure you didn’t see anyone in here?” asked an older female with short hair as red as a scarlet macaw’s belly.
“No one.” Petari shook her head decisively.
“Doesn’t mean there aren’t any people,” said an older male. He was as tall as a grown caiman is long and as skinny as a spider’s legs.
“We’ll find out,” the Macaw Girl said with a smirk.
Petari’s toes pointed purposefully toward the village, ready to lead the others. “Come on.”
“I’ll show the way,” Val said, pushing Petari back. “We saw some monkeys that might be trouble, so stay close.”
I did not know why he was so quick to lead. Anxiety swirled around his every step, as he glanced behind and ahead. He did not like being in front.
Petari pouted but didn’t argue.
The herd’s footsteps trod, trod, trod along the path, crushing vines, stomping worms. The humans hooted and hollered as they walked, until the older ones quieted them with loud shushes. But they could still be heard across the river. Their heavy feet pounding the ground, heels snapping twigs, and squeaks ringing out from metal carts with small wheels, which the herd pushed across the dried leaves and soil.
The terrain was hard for them, and when they reached the downed branch, I hoped they would give up and go home.
“Hold up, Storma.” The Caiman Boy raised his hand to the Macaw Girl near the back of the herd, then turned to Petari and Val. “How much longer?”
“Not too much more,” Petari said. She hopped on her toes, excitement squelching under her feet.
The Macaw Girl, Storma, ran up to the front. “All right. Come on, people. Lift!”
The herd was not to be stopped. The children gathered around the carts, lifted them across the branch, and continued on their journey.
“Arrow!” I cried as soon as I felt his footsteps were close enough that he could hear me.
“The metal bird was bleeding that rainbow liquid. Did you feel it on the soil?” He was lively after his adventure, swinging Curly as they journeyed back. Elated that he had been of use. I didn’t know how long that feeling would last.
“Yes, but—”
“I fixed it, though. I put sapodilla sap over the hole, and it’s not coming out anymore.” The soil beneath him warmed with pride.
“Good thinking, Arrow. I knew that bird was dangerous. But we have other dangers inside the curtain now. More humans have entered, in the north.”
“What?” He stopped walking, and Curly jumped onto his arm. “What do you mean? They’re in the forest?”
“Yes, in the forest. A herd of them came through a rip in the curtain. They’re headed for the abandoned village.”
Arrow’s feet picked up speed, a mixture of nerves and excitement in his wake. “Is it the Kiskadee Man?”
“No, not the Kiskadee Man. These are other humans. They walked in from the north.”
Arrow stopped still.
“Walked?”
“Yes. The curtain is shredding there. I couldn’t fix it with the magic.”
“Are they…?” Consternation flooded from the boy. He swallowed. “Are they the same ones who abandoned me?”
“These humans are too young to be the one who left you. But they could be from the same community. There’s no way of knowing. Whoever they are, they will be bad for us.”
Arrow slouched as anxiety swept into the air around him. Curly clutched his neck tight as if to comfort.
“What do we do now?” the boy asked.
“We watch. We learn. We do whatever we can to make sure they don’t destroy the forest. And if we find a way to make them leave, we use it.”
He nodded. “Okay. And when we get the magic fixed, we’ll block them out for good.” My boy. He understood. He knew the dangers.
“Yes,” I told him. “Watch them, but make sure they don’t see you. We must keep them north of the river. At least then we’ll have some protection.”
“I will.” Arrow grabbed hold of a thick, woody liana vine and quickly climbed up the kapok tree, his feet pushing against bark, right hand pulling on branches, and left elbow levering him around tree limbs. High up, he untied the strong hemp rope he kept around his waist, then stuck his foot into the end with the small lassoed hoop. The other end held a bigger lasso, and he threw it over the vine, and then pushed it down around his shoulders with his right hand and the end of his arrow arm until it was under his armpits. Secure, he pushed off and slid through the air toward the abandoned village.
The humans plowed their way slowly on the uneven ground of dirt, rocks, and leaves. The youngest were slower and held up the group, and more than a few times comments like, “How much longer?” and “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” were tossed at Petari and Val. The boy shied from the words, but Petari batted them back with, “Soon. You’ll see. It’s perfect!”
When the herd sighted their first banana trees, hearts rapped faster and eyes widened. Bellies that had previously been silent screamed to be filled.
“See, Luco?” Val pulled down a banana. “It’s brill, huh?”
“You weren’t kidding,” said the Caiman Boy, Luco. He seemed to be the oldest, with maybe fifteen or sixteen rings on his slender frame. “This place is stacked with food. We could eat here forever.”
Hands grabbed bananas. Teeth bit through skins, until Val showed the others how to peel. The herd almost missed Petari’s chants of, “Come on. There’s more. This way!”
Luco laughed. “I’m not sure we need anything more than this. I’ve only had that banana-flavored pudding. This is so much better.”
“I know.” Petari grinned. “But this is just the beginning of the good stuff.”
“I’m ready for more,” Storma said, stepping closer.
“You always want more,” Luco said with a grin.
“Nothing wrong with that.” She smirked and turned to Val and Petari. “Show us.”
Val straightened at attention like a lemur. “It’s just through there.”
“Eyes out!” Luco called to the group. And their shouts and hollers over the bananas quieted as they began to move again.
“Lead the way, Val,” Storma said.
Val did, Petari close behind, and the other humans trailing like ants through the tree trunks until they saw the opening.
Arrow and Curly were already perched on a branch on the south side of the village when the human herd stepped into the sunlight from the north. Arrow gasped, and Curly slapped a small paw against the boy’s lips.
Like rainwater spilling from bet
ween two rocks, the herd spread out around the abandoned village. Carried items were dropped on the ground, forgotten, carts left in their pathway. Eyes widened, mouths hung open, steps were cautious.
“Stay here,” Storma shouted. She ran into the center of the village. Luco did the same, while the others obeyed the girl’s command. The two darted from hut to hut like hummingbirds looking for nectar. They peered under, around, and inside, until they heard a loud squeak from their group. Storma looked back under a deep scowl, one finger slammed against her lips. One of the smaller children had clamped her palms over her mouth, but she jumped up and down in place like she was holding back a stream of words that couldn’t wait to get out. After Luco gave Storma an approving nod, they returned to the rest of the herd and the girl finally released her mouth.
“Water!” she shouted, pointing at the river. “Real water!”
The whole herd followed her fingertip… then they were running, skipping, cheering to the river’s edge.
“Told you,” Petari said. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“I’ve never seen this much water in my life,” Storma said.
“Mercou, can you filter it?” Luco asked a boy with a halo of black hair.
“I can try,” the boy said, grinning.
“What’s over there?” Storma pointed at the forest on the other side of the river. Pointed in my direction. My roots stiffened.
Val shrugged. “Probably more of the same.”
“Maybe people.” Storma flashed Luco a frown.
“The river’s too wide for anyone to get over here,” Luco said. “But we’ll be cautious.”
Hidden high in the ficus tree, Arrow and Curly were frozen, just like I had taught them to do when they saw Claw or one of her pups. Stay small. Stay silent. Stay still.
But the boy’s eyes took in all their movements, and his heartbeat, pulsing into the bark through the soles of his feet, gave away his fear and anticipation.
The abandoned village now held more humans than Arrow had ever seen in his life. When Luco gave the word that they were safe, their bravery grew and they moved around the village, talking, laughing, shouting, pointing. Soon they were running across the field, stomping up steps, jumping into the huts.
Arrow Page 3
