by C. F. Cooper
***
The morning sun streaked through the trees as Gary rejoined his companions in the clearing. Smallgrass and Smallgrass were already awake and had gathered fallen branches to make a fire. Octavia and Hannibal sat up and transformed before his eyes to their more familiar form.
“Please don’t light that fire,” said Gary.
Smallgrass and Smallgrass looked puzzled. “Well, I need some heat in these bones.”
Octavia bent her head towards Gary and stared at him. “Why not Gary?”
“Because the forest does not approve of fires and we are its guests.”
“The forest of doom?” said Smallgrass.
“The forest does not approve,” he repeated. “It will let us pass in peace, but we must respect its wishes.”
“And how do you know this?” asked Hannibal.
“I spoke with the trees and we have an understanding.” Gary removed a small hessian bag from his belt and opened it. The companions gathered round and looked at the content. Gary had a small bundle of crystal-like amber drops. “Sap from the whispering trees of Yydrassil. The real name of the of forest.”
“You mean the forest of doom,” said Smallgrass.
“No, I mean the forest of Ydrassil. Are you Smallgrass or Shadowvalley?”
Smallgrass stepped back and stared wide eyed. “How do you know my rea…”
“Your real name? That’s not your real name. It is Smallgrass, no matter what doubts you have.”
The other Smallgrass looked at his partner. “You still think of yourself as Shadowvalley?”
“All of us have doubts and hidden thoughts,” said Gary. “That is all the forest reveals to people. If you can accept them, you can pass through.” Gary took one of the amber beads and rubbed it between his fingers, it softened and turned to liquid with the heat of his hand. Rubbing his thumb across his forehead the amber streak he created began to absorb into his skin.
“What magic is this?” said Hannibal.
“No magic, just a bond with the forest that lets us hear ourselves. Truly hear ourselves.”
“Not for me,” said Octavia. “My thoughts are my own.”
“The forest already hears you Octavia. It already hears us all. It hears your desire to be home and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s what you’re fighting for. It hears your enjoyment of the fight Hannibal. Right now, we need that. It hears you Smallgrass and Smallgrass, devoted to each other but one worried about betrayal and one worried about loss. It’s just that you don’t hear it clearly enough yourself so you can never be settled. Trust the forest and it will trust you.”
Gary held out his hand and the companions one by one took an amber bead and rubbed them onto to their forehead just as Gary had done.
“I feel strange,” said Smallgrass, sitting down on the ground as he lost his balance.
“It will pass,” said Gary, as the others did the same.
“You have betrayed us,” said Hannibal as he collapsed to the ground. “You have taken the side of the forest. Why?”
“You’ll understand when you wake up.”
Chapter 17
Smallgrass yawned and opened his eyes. Sitting up he looked around. He was at the edge of the forest. The other Smallgrass was still sleeping on the ground next to him, but the others were nowhere to be seen. He nudged Smallgrass back to life. “Wake up.”
Smallgrass groaned and opened his eyes. “I had the strangest dream.”
“Me too. I think it was the potion that Gary gave us.” They both stood up and dusted themselves down. They were covered in leaves and small twigs.
“What happened. Where are the others?”
The sound of footsteps interrupted their musings. Turning around they saw Hannibal, Octavia and Gary emerging from the forest.
“Your’e awake at last. I didn’t think you were ever going to emerge from that sleep.”
“Welcome to Autumnfall,” said Octavia.
“How did we get here? Did you carry us?”
Gary pointed at the trees behind him. “They did. They carried us all.”
Smallgrass shook his head trying to comprehend what was being said. “The trees?”
“Passed from treetop to treetop,” said Octavia. “I woke before we reached the forest edge. It was the strangest experience.”
“But how…Gary, did you…”
“They agreed to help. Reluctantly but they agreed.”
“And the sleeping potion?”
“Not a sleeping potion,” said Hannibal. “A truth potion. You just couldn’t cope with it awake so you passed out.”
Smallgrass nodded with understanding. “I am Shadowvalley. I want to be Smallgrass but I’m not. I’m Shadowvalley”
Smallgrass smiled. “That’s okay.”
“Anyway, enough of this. We need to go. The owl came when you were sleeping. She has been flying over Autumfall these last few days following Daisy. She is a day’s walk from here, on the edge of a large encampment of doomwalkers.”
Smallgrass looked ahead away from the forest. It was open ground of undulating hills, the grass long and golden brown where there were gaps in the snow and frost. “Open countryside. Is it safe to cross?”
A swooping sound interrupted their conversation as the owl landed in front of them. “Head due north,” she said. “There are no doomwalkers that way. Stay straight to that direction and you will be fine.”
“Let’s go,” said Gary, leading the friends.
For the rest of the day the companions marched hard, pausing only when the owl returned to redirect them away from enemy forces. They would travel north then be directed east, then north, then west, constantly tacking back and forth at the owl’s direction. Occasionally they would see a stack of smoke in the distance just beyond the horizon and they would tack in away in another direction only to come closer to the smoke when they changed direction again. After many hours of marching the sun began to drop in the sky. As they approached the base of a hill, they heard a whistle.
“Daisy,” said Octavia. She whistled back. “She’s in the long grass at the top of this hill. But we are near the doomwalkers,” she raised a finger to her mouth. “So, silence.”
Gary walked as fast as he could, making his own small whistling sound and then following the whistled reply of Daisy.
“Get down,” whispered a voice unmistakable to him. He crouched down until he was below the height of the grass and kept moving. As he reached her, Daisy reached out and tugged on Gary’s arm, pulling him to the ground. They kissed briefly then she pushed him to one side. “Look,” she pointed down the other side of the hill to a large village below. It was surrounded by snow and mist. At the centre was a large rig, pumping water into wooden barrels. The pump was operated by a team of doomwalkers, mostly lizards, pushing a horse mill. Off to one side there was a massive fire pit burning fallen trees, bellowing out thick black smoke.
“This is where Sasha came,” whispered Daisy.
Octavia and the others reached them and looked on to the scene below. “The Ice King will pay for this,” she said.
Hearing the anger in her voice Gary squeezed her hand. “You know this place, these people, don’t you?”
“This is Lepidville, many of the enslaved below are my relatives. The well they are pumping is the straight from Autumnfall’s underground lake. No one has ever dared steal the water of life like this.”
“They wouldn’t do it without a good reason,” said Gary. “The water is the key to the enchantment.”
“How could he?” growled Hannibal. “The four lands cannot survive without the river. He will rule over a wasteland if he succeeds.”
“We need to find out what they are doing with the water. I need to infiltrate the camp,” said Gary.
“How are you going to do that?” Smallgrass asked. “Are you going to just walk in?”
“I am, look,” A column of prisoners approached the village guarded by lizards. “I’m sure they wouldn’t notice one more. Wa
it for me till morning, no longer.” Gary crawled off down the hill, staying low in the grass.
“We should go with him,” said Smallgrass.”
“No,” replied Daisy. “One person can slip in unnoticed, but any more would be dangerous. I trust him.”
Gary popped up just next to the middle of the column and edged his way into the middle of a group of prisoners.
“He’s in,” said Octavia.
Chapter 18
Gary looked around. All the prisoners held their heads down, staring at the ground. He nudged the person walking next to him with his shoulder. “Hey,” he said. The prisoner kept his head down and ignored him. Gary nudged someone on the other side. Somehow, he seemed familiar.
“Don’t,” the prisoner replied. “You’ll get us all killed. No talking, no looking up. That’s the rules.”
“Where are you from?” Gary whispered. No reply. “Where are you from?”
“From Clowder Hollow, now be quiet.”
“I knew I recognised you. I was there”
“Then you saw what happened. There is no point resisting. Be quiet.”
A guard moved his way down the line sweeping his attention across the column. “Did I hear talk? It is forbidden.”
The prisoner nudged Gary back and stared at him.
“Okay, okay.” Gary walked on in silence, keeping his head down but looking side to side as they entered the village. Stone buildings had been cleared to widen the path to the centre of the village. Piles of rubble littered the ground. It reminded Gary of old pictures he’d seen from war zones where towns had been bombed into oblivion, but this was not as a result of a bombing. A group of labourers were dismantling what buildings remained. Armed with sledgehammers they were destroying the village brick by brick. As they approached the centre Gary could see a huge pit with a glow emanating from it. He knew immediately what it was. This was like the village of Warrensgate. The building that gave access to the river had been demolished and machinery was now built up around the large quarry like structure. They were marched past the hole and Gary shuffled to the edge of the group to look down. What had once been a spiral staircase was now a large bore hole, the occasional section of stairwell still visible. The pool of water below sparkled but not as intensely as it had the first time he had seen it.
“Devin,” Gary whispered to himself. “Can you hear me?” A spark seemed to fly up from the water in his direction but extinguished before it reached him. “Devin,” he whispered again. Another spark took the same path and again fizzled out.
“Keep moving,” boomed a guard.
They marched on past the pit and reached a large open-air cell. The double gate was opened, and the prisoners herded in. Once the last the captives were inside the gates were closed and locked with a boom across the opening. At each of the four corners were guard towers with sentries on post.
“What happened to the village?” Gary asked the prisoner he had been talking to.
“Anyone who was young and fit was either killed or sent here. Those that remain are being used as labour to cut into the forest one tree at a time. It’s madness. The whole land is being razed.”
“You should have fought,” said Gary. “Defeat does not bring peace.”
“I know.”
“Are you ready to fight now?” asked Gary.
The prisoner shook his head. “It’s too late. There’s no point. It’s all gone. Nothing left to fight for. It would make no difference.”
Gary turned and walked away to the edge of the cell. He looked out into the nighttime village. A large fire burned and illuminated the scene. It was a vision of hell. Near the pit, there was the horse mill. Slaves turned the wheel and water pumped out of the pipe leading from the river below. It was being fed into large wooden casks. Near the fire Gary could see a group of slaves making the barrels. They cut the wood, flamed the planks and then bound them with metal straps that were being produced in the smithy. Hot air bellowed from the building sending up dark plumes of smoke and dancing embers of fire. They seemed to make the shape of screaming faces as the smoke and sparks meandered their way up into the air.
“Get them ready for the ceremony, we need more troops for our assault on Summervale,” said a familiar voice.
Gary stepped back away from the edge of the cell into the darkness. His face turned into no more than a shadow as Sasha Midnight passed. She paused for a second and looked into the cell. Gary held his breath, wondering if she could see him.
“I want to be ready to leave by daybreak,” she said to her companion. She turned and continued walking.
Gary breathed a sigh of relief. “If she has joined them how can we resist?” said a voice behind him. Gary turned to see the hopeless soul that he had been talking to earlier. “She was the best and bravest of us all.”
“Which is why the Ice King needed her,” said Gary. “And it is why we must save her.”
The prisoner shook his head. “She is gone forever. Soon we all will be, and I for one will welcome it. No more longing for the life I had.”
“On the other hand,” said another voice in the dark, “You could go down fighting. Live and taste victory or die and end the suffering that way.” A cat person emerged from the shadows and extended his hand to Gary. “Calico Jones, and you must be Gary the son of Adam. I’ve heard about you.”
Gary shook his hand, “You seem different to the rest. Undefeated.”
“Didn’t see how I could beat them in an open fight so thought I’d pretend to be defeated and see what I could find out.”
Gary smiled. “Great minds think alike. So, what’s your plan?”
“No plan,” said Calico. “Just thought I’d come along for the ride and see if I could figure something out once I got here. And you?”
Gary laughed. “Yeah, pretty much the same.”
“I’ve been watching them. They do something to the water, add something to the barrels. It’s how they turn people. The water is contaminated. It’s the key to whole thing. I arrived last night just as they were finishing the ceremony. The prisoners are forced to drink the contaminated water. After the ceremony they are turned. Full believers in the Ice King.”
Gary pulled an amber bead from his pouch and passed it to Calico. “Rub this into your skin just before you take the drink. It will expose every fear you have but it will also protect you.”
Calico nodded and hid the resin in his sleeve.
The sound of drumming began to resonate across the village and a troop of doomwalkers approached the cell, marching in time to the drums. The ground vibrated beneath their feet. The gate swung open and a guard approached “Out,” he shouted. “Out now.”
Gary and Calico looked at each other, nodded and stepped forward, heads bowed in a show of defeated resignation. The guard escorted the prisoners and the gate was swung closed again. The prisoners were surrounded as they were marched through the village towards an alter thrown together with the debris of demolished houses. It was a large plinth made of stone and sitting on top of it was a barrel with a tap protruding from the side. A large chalice was placed to one side. Sasha stepped forward into the light. She wore a long red tunic and looked as menacing and beautiful as Gary had remembered from the village. He dipped his head so as not be recognised. Sasha called on one of the guards to bring forwards a torch. She took it from him and placed it against the barrel. Slowly the flame took hold on and spread until the barrel was burning. She picked up the chalice and turned the tap, filling it with steaming water.
“Bring the prisoners forward,” she commanded.
“Quickly, the resin,” Gary said to Calico. Calico rubbed it into the back of his hand before two guards grabbed him by each arm and marched him forward towards Sasha. A third guard grabbed Calico by the hair and pulled his head back as Sasha poured a small drop of liquid into his mouth.
“Kiss the hand of allegiance,” said the guard, now pushing Calico’s head down to Sasha’s outstretched hand. Calico kissed the back of h
er hand and was then roughly thrown to the ground. Gary watched as Calico slipped out of consciousness while the next prisoner took part in the ceremony. Keeping to the rear of the prisoners Gary watched the proceedings. The prisoners would pass out after they had taken the potion and kissed the outstretched hand. They would then quickly come around and the change in them was immediate. They stood tall, no longer cowed, and they stared straight ahead at Sasha and the burning barrel, committed to the cause.
Finally, there was no one left but Gary. He kept his head down as best he could as he approached Sasha, but the guard pulled his head back to receive the potion. Gary drank from the cup. It was a bitter stinging taste that he recoiled from. Without meaning to he looked directly into the eyes of Sasha. She stared back and he saw a look of confused recognition. She hadn’t quite place him yet. He bent his head and kissed her hand. As he did so, he rubbed an amber bead into her skin. She snapped her hand away and look at it, then at him. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. She had remembered.
Just as she was about to alert the guards, the barrel finally collapsed from the fire. The staves of wood crumbling and the metal straps clanking together as they fell. It was not water that flooded from the barrel as Gary had expected. An explosion of mist burst out like a mushroom cloud enveloping all of them. A red glow formed into the shape of a face.
“Hail the Ice King” someone shouted only for his cry to be repeated by the crowd.
The apparition began to speak. “The four lands are not four lands. They never have been. We are returning the garden to its pure state. The four lands are one land, the four people are one people and one land, and one people will march under the banner of one leader. Join us as we unite the broken as we prepare to face the sons of Adam. One land, one people, one leader.”
The crowd repeated the chant. Gary stumbled through the mist and found Calico. He was joining in the chant.
“One land, one people…”
Gary took him by the arm and stared into his eyes.
“One whatever,” he winked at Gary. “Well, I wouldn’t be much of spy if I couldn’t fit in.”
