The Heartwood Crown

by Matt Mikalatos

  They sat like this nearly until nightfall, when Patra Koja lunged forward into the swamp, as if catching a fish, and pulled Madeline’s mother and Yenil from the water.

  26

  THE CARNIVOROUS

  FOREST

  This place is safe.

  FROM “THE PLANTING OF ALUVOREA,” AN ALUVOREAN CREATION TALE

  Jason had managed to get away from Bezaed in the most ridiculous way possible. He had thought about distracting him by shouting, “Look over there! More Zhanin warriors!” but he had made a promise not to lie, and so he couldn’t. So he just started saying things like, “Bezaed. There’s not a Zhanin warrior hiding behind us. There’s not. Don’t even bother looking for one. I don’t hear anything, do you hear anything?” After about ten minutes of this, Bezaed became convinced there was someone following them. Jason tried hard to dissuade him, which only made him more certain. Then Bezaed said, “Wait here,” and Jason said, “I will definitely run as soon as you are out of sight,” and he did. He had been running ever since, and he was thankful Baileya had made him run every day he was in the Wasted Lands because it had kept him just barely out of Bezaed’s reach.

  Jason had been running so hard from Bezaed that he hadn’t even noticed when he arrived in the carnivorous part of the forest until a flower tried to sting him. He had promptly, with a great deal of screaming and swatting, run as fast as he could up a hollow log stuck at an angle into the forest floor. The flowers, which had long tentacle-like stalks, had swarmed around the base of the log and reached experimentally toward the surface of the log, as if deciding whether or not to make the climb. He had no idea why they didn’t want to get on the log, but he was thankful. He had a vague memory that the things grew on dead logs, but also they were called stone flowers, so maybe not. He was having a hard time remembering the little things he had heard about this place, which was unfortunate, given that he apparently lived here on this log now.

  A wonderful side effect of life among the meat-eating flowers was that Bezaed had wisely chosen to stay in the regular part of the forest, still in sight of Jason and, in fact, close enough to hear. Bezaed was far enough away, however, that he had fallen to “second most distressing thing trying to kill me” status. A close second, yes, but as Jason recalled, these flowers would sting someone, paralyze them, and then devour them slowly over the course of a week or so. That gave them an edge over Bezaed, who would just cut him with a knife.

  “You know, we’ve never had a chance to sit and talk,” Jason said. “What with you wanting to murder me since the first time we met.”

  Bezaed laughed at that. “You wish to exchange words instead of receiving my blade? Coward! You are not worthy of my sister!”

  “I agree. Baileya is amazing.”

  Bezaed’s golden face twisted in fury. “She should not be betrothed to a human.”

  Jason rearranged himself, letting his legs dangle on either side of the log. Could those flowers jump? He didn’t think so. “Is that what this is all about?”

  “It is our tradition, as a people, that we attempt to kill those who become betrothed to our sisters. To show the strength of our families and to make sure the suitor is worthy.”

  Jason crossed his arms. “I’ve been thinking about this—and believe me, I have plenty of reason to think a lot about this—and I think you’re lying.”

  “I am not lying. I am going to gut you like a hare and leave your body to dry in the desert sun.”

  “Poetic,” Jason said. “But I don’t think the Kakri need to prove they’re strong. Everyone is terrified of them. I’m duly terrified of all of your people except Baileya. I’m scared of her, too, but at least I know she’ll only break me in half if I deserve it. As to whether I’m worthy of Baileya . . . I’m not. Killing me won’t change that. Meanwhile, I hardly see her because she’s busy trying to keep you from sticking me with a knife. Right now she’s off handling one of those Zhanin. Besides, Baileya says that even if I were to break off the engagement, you would still kill me.”

  “Not so,” Bezaed said. “If your betrothal ends, I will leave you in peace.”

  Mother Crow had told Jason that if you broke an engagement, the family continued to hunt you, just without the protection of your fiancée. On the other hand, Jason couldn’t imagine Baileya leaving him to fend for himself, even if he broke up with her. “Leaving me in a weird place, because I don’t want to die, and I don’t want to end our engagement.”

  “I give you my word,” Bezaed said. “Leave her and I will leave you be.”

  It would be nice to have one less person chasing him. There would still be the Elenil, of course, and the Zhanin and some of the Scim to deal with. Not much would change, and the things that did change would be for the worse. He hadn’t meant to get engaged, but now he could not imagine life without the statuesque Kakri woman at his side. Or, him at her side, whichever the case happened to be. “I’m never going to leave her,” Jason said. “I know I’m not worthy of her, but she’s stuck with me.”

  “If you cared about her, you would give her the chance to find someone of her own people. Someone who could be her equal in marriage, not a mewling infant requiring constant care. Look at you now: trapped upon a rotting log, trying not to be killed by stone flowers or a Kakri warrior.”

  Jason pulled his legs back up on the log and rearranged himself, lying back against the rough bark and crossing his arms behind his head. “You’re the one who’s trapped,” he said. “You have to stay there for the next year hoping I’ll move. But I’m pretty patient when it comes to not getting killed.”

  Bezaed said nothing to that, but he disappeared into the woods. That made Jason nervous, but what was Bezaed going to do? Pole-vault onto the rotten log? Set a fire? Besides, every minute that passed was a minute that might turn things in Jason’s favor. Baileya could show up. Or Delightful Glitter Lady. Break Bones. Or, for that matter, Darius or Madeline or Shula or pretty much anyone.

  Meanwhile, more stone flowers were gathering around his log. They must smell blood or something, because while there had been maybe a hundred at first, there were easily five or six hundred now, and they seemed to be gathering more. He wondered if that meant there was a safe path somewhere else. The stone flowers didn’t move as fast as, say, a squirrel. So if you could find a path with fewer of them, you might be able to run through this part of the forest without being killed. Which he would need to figure out if he was going to make it to see the dragon, Arakam. He was starting to have his doubts. He needed to put all of this in order and see if there was a way out.

  So. What did he know?

  Baileya and Dee were somewhere nearby, he hoped. So were a number of Zhanin warriors. At this point there should also be a force of Elenil moving through the forest, since they hadn’t sent Gilenyia back out. Shula, Madeline, and Gilenyia were off meeting with the guy who had branches growing out of his head. Jason needed to go find this dragon to learn the price of helping the Aluvoreans. The two Aluvoreans he had met were spectacularly unhelpful, but supposedly this was all mixed in with the magic of the Sunlit Lands.

  Darius was in Far Seeing, seeking justice for the Scim and especially for Nightfall. Break Bones was with him. They wouldn’t be showing up to help, as nice as that might be. Bezaed was after him, purely because Jason was with Baileya, and he claimed he would go away if Jason left his sister alone. Jason had his doubts.

  “You need to change your story,” Bezaed said.

  Jason sat up. There he was, back on the edge of the forest. “Couldn’t find a pogo stick, huh?”

  “I do not know what this means.”

  “Or a hang glider or jet pack or anything? Oh well.” Jason lay down again and looked at the branches hanging above him. They were a little high for him to jump to. Maybe if he had a rope. “So you’re going to tell me a story? I’d appreciate it, I’m super bored.”

  The Kakri loved stories. They treated them like money, and they didn’t give them away for no reason.

/>   “I am not here to tell you a story but to say you must change the story you are in.”

  “Now I don’t know what you mean.”

  The warrior made a sound of obvious disdain. “The story you are in now ends with your death.”

  “Bah. Everyone’s story ends there,” Jason said. “‘Happily ever after’ is just where you stop telling the story if you want it to sound happy.”

  “Your story now, Wu Song, is this: a young human becomes betrothed to a Kakri woman. He is pursued and finally killed by her family.”

  “Or, you know, he is pursued and runs up a log and starves to death.” He glanced over at Bezaed, who had a look of pure frustration on his face. “I’m just saying there are choices here. It’s not ‘get killed by Bezaed or nothing.’ I really have my pick of people who want to kill me. It’s a luxury, I know.”

  “I am saying, you can change this story, human. It could be the story of the human who broke an engagement and lived.”

  “And he was sad the rest of his life, the end.”

  “But it would be a much longer life.”

  “And he was sad for about twenty minutes until he got stung by a stone flower, paralyzed, and eaten.”

  “I will save you from the flowers.”

  “Well, there’s a sentence you don’t hear every day.” Jason closed his eyes. “You’re willing to risk your life to keep me safe if I don’t marry your sister. It’s a weird sort of insult, really. I gotta say, Christmas dinner is going to be awkward after Baileya and I are married.”

  “We do not celebrate this . . . Christmas,” Bezaed said.

  “Oh, Bai loves Christmas. Lots of food and stories. We celebrated at Far Seeing, and—”

  Bezaed threw a rock, which hit Jason in the shin. Jason sat up. A bruise had already formed. He rubbed his shin, his irritation at the Kakri rising. “Hey, not cool, man. Don’t try to annoy me into falling into that vicious mob of flowers.”

  “I am not here to listen to you prattle on about your Earth holidays. What is the best story to come of your choices so far, Wu Song? Do not they all end in your death? Again I say, change your story.”

  “My best story, huh? Let’s see. I get out of this mess somehow. Baileya knocks you out, I guess. She probably has Dee with her. We figure out how to get through the carnivorous forest—I’m thinking stilts?—and we find the dragon. We ask the dragon the price of fixing Aluvorea, and he says, ‘One pudding cup a day for the rest of your life.’ After some initial complaining and uncertainty, I agree to these terms, making me a hero and giving the dragon a complete monopoly on chocolate pudding in the Sunlit Lands. Madeline saves the world. We are heroes. I get a castle, and Baileya and I get married. We figure out how to import comic books and American movies to the Sunlit Lands. Oh, and I introduce indoor plumbing to everyone, so we get filthy rich. Oh yeah, and Mads and Darius get together, I’m sure.”

  “This story is full of impossibilities.”

  “It’s like you’ve never seen a Star Wars film,” Jason said.

  “Why do you insist on speaking nonsense to me?”

  “Or James Bond. That guy can jump out of a moving plane onto a motorcycle falling off a cliff while wearing a parachute. Why can’t I walk through the forest on stilts without someone saying I’m being ridiculous?”

  “Your best story will never happen. But your worst could. You fall from your log. You escape the stone flowers, but I kill you. These things are far more likely than your story. You must change your story, Wu Song.”

  “Say that again,” Jason said.

  “You will die a terrible—”

  “Not that part!”

  “Change your story?”

  “Yes!” Jason sat up straight. Of course. It all made sense now. He had told Madeline before she left the Sunlit Lands that he was searching for a story . . . a way to make the Sunlit Lands understand their situation and discover a way out of it. He had to be honest, he hadn’t done much in this direction. But what if it wasn’t about finding a story, it was about creating a story? Writing a new one? Changing the world through the way he spoke about it?

  Bezaed, delighted by Jason’s “yes,” said, “So you agree to break your betrothal? If you swear it to me, I will leave you in peace.”

  “Nope,” Jason said. “I’ve got a different story to tell you, so hold on to your hat.”

  “I have no hat,” Bezaed said.

  “Further evidence you should have held on. Do you remember at the festival for the Meeting of the Spheres? I was there.”

  “It was the night you became engaged to my sister. We celebrated the festival, and she came to us at the end to say you had told her your secret story, and she was considering its worth. Then you both ran into the desert, and I followed.”

  Yes. They had been in the desert. Baileya had taken him to a Kakri festival—something few outsiders had seen. They had sung songs and told stories and danced. Jason had told Baileya what happened to his sister, not realizing that this sort of storytelling was considered an invitation to marriage among the Kakri people. This night, of all nights, is where Jason had found his new story.

  “That night I learned the story of how the Kakri came to be . . . how Mother Crow came to the people and invited them to come and live in the desert. They had to leave everything behind, but they followed her and became the mighty Kakri.”

  “What of it?”

  Jason grinned. “So the old lady, Mother Crow? She invited me to come learn from her in the desert.”

  Bezaed frowned. “She is the elder of our people, but she is not Mother Crow herself. Besides, you are here, not there.”

  “You’re not connecting the dots, my future brother-in-law. What I’m telling you is that I have been invited to become a Kakri by Mother Crow. Your eldest elder. Or however you want to say it. You say you don’t want your sister to marry a human? I give you my word today that I will not marry your sister until I go into the desert with Mother Crow, just like your ancestors did, and become Kakri myself. You know I don’t tell lies. I will do this.”

  Bezaed shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “Among my people, we try to kill even the Kakri suitors for our sisters.”

  “Then shouldn’t you wait until I’m Kakri?”

  Bezaed leaned against the tree beside him. “Did Mother Crow truly say this to you?”

  “Yes. She said to leave everything and come to the desert to learn.”

  “I will leave you then,” Bezaed said, and started walking away.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “To wait for you in the desert. If you survive becoming a Kakri, then you and I will have words.” Then Bezaed left, disappearing into the trees.

  Jason almost fell off the log he was so surprised. “Hey, that worked. That worked!” He bounced in his excitement, and the log creaked beneath him. “Yikes.” He carefully rearranged himself and then whispered a cheer and said, as quietly as he could, “That worked, yaaay.”

  When Remi found him three hours later, he already had a new plan.

  “You are trapped on a log,” Remi said, landing lightly beside him.

  “I know, right?”

  “No doubt you wish you had wings.”

  “One of several solutions I would accept.” He scratched Remi’s head, and she began to purr. “I have a favor to ask.”

  She had her eyes closed. “You wish me to take messages to your loved ones after the stone flowers eat you,” she said. “I will do this for you.”

  “No, something else. See, I’m supposed to go find the dragon, Arakam.”

  She opened one eye. “You wish me to take a message to Arakam after you die.”

  “Getting warmer. Look, this is how the story is supposed to go: I trudge through the carnivorous forest. It is scary. Maybe we come across the firethorns, I don’t know. Also scary. We come to the waterfalls where Arakam lives. Turns out he’s not a dragon, he’s like a, I don’t know, a giant salamander or something because people
in the Sunlit Lands do not know anything about animals. The giant salamander tells me whatever it is he’s supposed to say, I slog back to find Madeline, et cetera. But I was thinking, what if we changed the story? What if, um, you flew to Arakam, he told you the stuff, and you came back and told me?”

  “I cannot help but notice that in your story I do all the work.”

  “This is a natural side effect to me not having wings,” Jason said, scratching behind her ears.

  “Fine,” she said. “I will do it. But not because I like you—I don’t. Rather because I have been wanting to see Arakam and give him a good swat on the nose for several years now. He has been telling the Aluvoreans to call me a feline, knowing full well that they will not realize this is another way to say cat. It has been a great inconvenience.”

  “Offensive! Arakam should show more respect for a Guardian of the Wind.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Would you like to blow all these stone flowers away before you go?”

  She turned her green eyes on him. “Cleverly asked. But they do not move in the wind so easily. Observe.” She set her wings to flapping, and a great wind burst through the forest. Jason clutched onto the log, trying not to get blown off. The stone flowers wrapped their little tentacles into one another, the ground, stones, grass, whatever, and none of them were blown away.

  The log began to break. “Wait, wait, stop!”

  Remi stopped. “You see?”

  “I had to try,” he said.

  “Death by stone flower is a painful way to go,” Remi admitted.

  “I’ve just been trying to change the story, you know?”

  “Indeed.”

  “It’s amazing that you could blow that Zhanin warrior into the forest, but those stone flowers won’t budge.”