Absence: Whispers and Shadow

by J. B. Forsyth

  An Urgent Errand

  Kye had just flipped the trapdoor when the first rain began to fall. The coming storm had sucked some of the warmth from the air and as he settled into one corner he pulled his blanket across his shoulders. Outside the grey lakeside lit up and a throaty peal of thunder ripped over him. He thought about the wreckage of his second tree house and felt suddenly vulnerable. He had worked hard on this one, but it had yet to be tested by a serious storm. He turned his mind to the hypnotic drumming of the rain and was just dozing off when he heard another scream. It brought him back instantly, as if a bolt of lightning had shot through his head. He jerked forward and froze, listening for it to come again. When it did, he sensed its origin – somewhere behind him, in the direction of south town. He threw off his blanket and pulled open the trapdoor. Storm or not, he was going to find her this time.

  He raced down the rope ladder and jumped off into the gloom of the woods. But just as he splashed into a muddy rut on the main track his sister’s spectre rose from the lake, right in front of him. He drew up sharp and goggled at her with a mixture of surprise and relief. ‘Emile! Are you alright? I heard a scream.’ Her apparition hung in the air like a luminous mist; but she was fainter than the last time he saw her and she was hovering much closer than she had done for a long time.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said, speaking her words directly into his head. ‘But the girl who screamed isn’t. I want you to help her.’

  Kye frowned. ‘What girl?’ he asked, shouting over the rising wind. ‘You’re not making any sense!’

  ‘There’s no time to explain. The villagers are on their way to her house and her uncle’s not there. Just bring her to the tree house before they can get to her.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about! I’ve been waiting to talk to you. I had a fight with Bill and I’m leaving tomorrow. I came to tell you that you were right all along -’

  ‘- Are you going to help me or not!?’ she said, cutting into his rising excitement like a blade of ice. His face dropped. He had always taken comfort in his sister’s voice, but as he looked into the cold radiance of her face he felt something of what kept the villagers away.

  ‘Emilie! What’s wrong with you? …You’re scaring me.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. She’s in danger and you’re just standing here talking!’ Her reply was petulant – her eyes like thimbles of frozen lake water. ‘Do this for me Kye, please.’

  His mind scrambled. Emilie’s sudden appearance and her bizarre request was a mental landslide on which he could find no footing.

  ‘Kye? Do this for me or you’ll never see me again.’

  ‘Alright, alright. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Go to her house. Tell her the villagers are coming and you’ve got a safe place to hide.’

  ‘What if she won’t come?’

  ‘She must!’ she said and Kye heard an awful desperation in her voice.

  ‘Where does she live?’

  ‘The last house on the far side of south town. The one with the cob trees either side of it.’

  Kye knew the one. He looked in its general direction, into the black heart of the woods. There was no easy path through. The woods were boggy and criss-crossed with ravines that were difficult to negotiate in broad daylight. In the dark they would be treacherous.

  ‘You’ll have to go around,’ Emilie said, reading his mind. ‘It’ll be quicker. Go now before it’s too late.’ Before he could respond she receded from him and began to fade into the storm.

  ‘Wait! ... Emilie! How is it I heard her scream the way I hear you?’

  ‘Because she’s like me.’

  ‘Like you? But you’re...’

  ‘Dead? I know. But she’s very much alive.’

  ‘What does that mean? Come back!’ But her spectre had vanished and he was shouting at a rain pitted lake.

  ‘Go now Kye. Hurry up and bring her to me.’

  ‘Emilie!’

  When she didn’t reply he kicked a knot of fireweed in frustration. Three weeks without an appearance and now she showed up with this riddle - expecting him to jump to her obscure demand without the courtesy of a full explanation.

  But what choice did he have?

  He turned from the lake and ran towards south village, splashing through the muddy pockets of water that littered the narrow track. He slowed down when he took the path through the woods as the gloom was thicker and he had to duck beneath low branches and navigate the hundreds of tree roots that crossed it. As he ran he tried to make sense of his errand, his mind racing with all kinds of questions. Who was this girl he was running to? What kind of trouble was she in? And why was Emilie so keen to help her? Most of all, how could she be anything like his sister if she was still alive? For weeks he was convinced Emilie was hiding from him – sulking beneath the surface of the lake in the hope he would go away. But with all this talk it was clear she had been very busy in her absence.

  He emerged from the woods and drew up, puffing hard and rubbing at a stitch in his side. Out in the open he felt the full force of the wind and each howling gust chilled him where his wet clothes stuck to his skin. The path continued over a little bridge that crossed the river and then disappeared between the first houses of South Agelrish. But when his breath was back he left the path, jumped over a fence and ran the tree line; knowing he could follow it right around to the girl’s house. Across the river the grey sprawl of South Agelrish hunkered in the gloom. Most of the windows were shuttered against the rain and he saw very little light until he came level with the far end of town and a line of flickering torches. He stopped, squinted his eyes to the rain and counted at least twenty villagers making their way out of town. Some held torches - but all were carrying what appeared to be farm tools. He had no doubt these were the villagers Emilie said were on their way to the girl’s house. He didn’t know what type of trouble she was in, but it looked serious. Up until now he hadn’t given any thought to how dangerous his errand might be. He trusted Emilie and he didn’t think she would have sent him if there was any chance of getting hurt. But as he started running again he began to wonder if he was making a big mistake.

  He soon came level with the villagers and overtook them just as the front face of the house came within sight. Its two cobb trees were braced either side of it like guardians, flexing and swaying as they were ravaged by the wind. Above them weak lamp light was glowing in the upper floor windows, giving the impression of two sleepy eyes.

  Kye looked from the house to the lane, understanding that if he was going to help the girl he had to get there ahead of the villagers. And he might have got there in time if not for a sudden thought that slowed him up: Bill. His stepfather would have spent all afternoon looking for him; telling everyone he met how his good-for-nothing stepson had robbed him of all his money. If he got too close to the villagers, one of them might grab him and deliver him to Bill.

  So with hesitancy dragging his feet he had only just ducked under the girl’s boundary fence when the first villagers appeared at her gate. He realised he was too late to deliver his message and veered off into the trees instead. When he was about forty yards from the house – as close as he dared go – he pressed himself up against a large tree and peered around it. But as the villagers marched up the garden it wasn’t their flaming torches that caught his eye. The house was set in a horseshoe of woods and from where he stood he could see right across the front to where the trees continued on the other side. It was to that distant fringe of black trunks that his eyes were instantly drawn. A solitary figure was pushing through the underbrush and merging with the greater blackness of a single tree. It was like he was seeing a reflection of his own movements, but with a five second delay.

  Was it the girl? Or someone else?

  He was still straining his eyes into that darkness when the front door swung open and a man, who he assumed to be the girl’s uncle, hobbled out onto the stoop. The villagers reached the house and fanned
out before him, their faces set with ugly determination. Kye recognised most of them and one or two he had seen at the market only a few hours earlier – faces that had held a good deal more cheer than they were displaying right now. He wondered what could have happened to bring them here in the rain like this and why they had taken up arms.

  Her uncle addressed them and there was talk. He saw their mouths move, but the wind was ferocious and he only caught the few words that were blown in his direction.

  ‘…witch you got in there killed my brother…. bring her out or…’

  The first word answered a lot of questions for him. Witch. Is that what the villagers thought she was? It explained why they were all here with torches and weapons. He had heard plenty of stories about lynch mobs.

  ‘… been here with me all night,’ her uncle said, ‘Perhaps there’s another explanation.’

  Angry gesturing from the crowd and then her uncle again, ‘…talk with the warden…’

  ‘…in it with her!’ said one of the villagers.

  ‘…back to your homes…’

  Then, ‘…bastard!’ Louder and clearer than anything before. The villager that spoke leapt up onto the stoop and shoved her uncle against his front door. He followed up with a punch to his chest. Her uncle stiffened. The villager’s hand remained on his chest as though it was stuck. Then with some effort he pulled it free. It was then that Kye understood what he had really seen. Not a punch, but the thrust of a knife and in a flush of horror he looked away and gripped the tree.

  When he looked back her uncle was laid on the planks, gripping the bloody tatters of his shirt. Then he went still and the villagers swarmed over him and into the house. As he stared at the fallen man he suddenly felt as though he was on a giant cobweb with thousands of silky strands running through his body. He felt the strange silk slip through him twice in succession - front to back, and a moment later, back to front - as if a giant web had torn open around the girl’s uncle and sealed up again. Then the feeling was gone just as suddenly as it started. He had never felt anything like it before, but he knew instinctively what had happened. Her uncle was dead and he had felt his passing.

  He might have stayed there all night if his eyes hadn’t been drawn back to the other side of the house. The figure he had seen pressed up against a tree was moving again - heading deeper into the woods. If it was the girl Emilie sent him for, he could still help her. He pushed himself away from the tree, determined to catch up with her before the villagers did.

  Whose Face Have You Stolen Now

  Kye ran around the rear of the house just as one of the villagers burst out of the back door. But the man’s attention was instantly drawn in the other direction and he was able to dart behind a tree without being seen.

  ‘There she is!’ shouted the man, pointing into the woods at the other side of the house. The girl was nothing more than a black shape in the forest gloom, but she was stumbling through the undergrowth and crashing through branches with no care for stealth.

  Kye watched the villagers swarm out of the house as he considered his options. The girl was heading towards the lake and into the boggy ravines he had taken the long run to avoid. If she got too far ahead he might lose her; but if he cut across the back garden, he would be spotted. He decided his only hope was to take a direct line into the woods and to get around in front of her once he had enough cover.

  He set off into the deeper darkness of the woods, but after only a dozen yards the boggy ground started to slurp at his boots, reducing him to a high stepping stumble. And when a broken branch nearly gouged his eye he realised there was little chance of catching the girl if she was persisting with her reckless run. But as his confidence ran cold, his vision began to improve. He stopped to look up though the foliage, expecting to see a full moon breaking through the storm clouds. But it was his sister – sweeping down through the canopy. Her sudden appearance was painful to his eyes and he stepped back from her with a hand in front of his face.

  ‘They killed her uncle!’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And they’re saying she’s a witch.’

  ‘She isn’t. They’ve got it all wrong Kye. Just bring her to the tree house and I’ll keep her safe.’

  ‘What do you think I’m doing? But look around. It’s too dark!’

  ‘Not now it isn’t. Come on, we’ve got to hurry!’

  Emilie floated off, lighting up a ghostly trail that he could run along and they soon put the sounds of the villagers far behind. She wove through the trees with confidence, as if she knew where the girl was heading and the exact direction and pace required to intercept her. And sure enough; after a few minutes of hard running he started to hear her: first the sporadic snapping of deadwood and then a series of stunted cries as she crashed through a section of thick foliage. Their paths converged as she ran into a ravine and Emilie swung left, taking him along the top. He saw the girl below him, staggering and tripping through the undergrowth and seemingly oblivious to his sister’s glow. He put on a spurt to get ahead and as she ran out of the ravine he jumped down in front of her. But to his surprise she didn’t notice him. Her breathing was laboured and distressed and her eyes were fixed on the ground as though she didn’t care where she was going to. When she was within a dozen feet of running into him he called out. ‘Hello!’

  It was the only thing he could think of saying and even as he said it, he cringed at the insensitivity of such a bold greeting in the middle of a dark woodland. Her head snapped up and she reeled back, tripping over a tree root and splashing down in a puddle. Her expression was wild and terrified and her sodden clothes shone in Emilie’s light.

  ‘Get away from me!’ she screamed, stumbling to her feet and backing away. She drew up a lump of deadwood and swiped it through the air.

  Kye held his hands up. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’

  ‘Get away! Get away!’

  ‘We’re here to help you.’

  ‘Liar! Whose face have you stolen now?’

  Kye was stunned; both by the venom of her tone and the bizarreness of her words. There was a feral blaze in her eyes and the occasional flash of something black.

  ‘I haven’t stolen anyone’s face. I just want to help.’

  ‘Poor boy… Poor boy… Monster’s got a poor boy’s face.’ Her voice was quivering like the deadwood in her trembling hand and Kye was quite sure he had never seen anyone so scared.

  ‘You’re talking about that thing aren’t you?’ said Emilie, drifting down from the ridgeline. ‘The one the whispers speak to… It crossed the river behind the villagers and it’s probably in the woods with us right now. Come with us if you want a safe place to hide.’

  Kye’s blood ran cold. He didn’t know what Emilie was talking about, but he could see the girl did. As his sister spoke she stopped backing away and simply stared. Her eyes lost that horrible black blaze and all of a sudden it was like she was seeing them for the first time.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, holding out a hand to her. ‘The villagers will be here soon.’ There was a lull in the wind and as if on cue, the rallying cries of the lynch mob echoed through the woods. They were close now; perhaps even funnelling into the other end of the ravine. But the girl didn’t seem to hear them and she just stared at his hand.

  ‘Can’t you hear them? They’re coming for you and they’ve got torches. The ground’s gone to mud and your trail will be easy to follow.’ There was a little more focus in her eyes, but nothing more. ‘Come on, it’s not far.’

  He started away with Emilie in the lead, hoping it would get her moving. And it worked. He looked over his shoulder and was relieved to see that she was following. But she was staying well back; trailing them at the very limit of his sister’s light. Emilie led him on the best way she could; weaving through thick undergrowth, skirting water logged ditches and floating over fallen trees. For what seemed like an eternity he led the girl on, speeding up in the hope she would keep pace, but then slowing down to bring her b
ack into the light. In the darkness behind her he started to see torches and by the time they arrived at the foot of the large oak that held his tree house they were beginning to converge.

  He unravelled the rope ladder and pointed up through the branches. ‘This is it. There’s a tree house up there. It’ll be a squeeze for the two of us, but room enough.’ He didn’t know if that was true, or even if the tree house would survive the wind that was ravaging the canopy above it. But he stepped back regardless and motioned for her to climb.

  The girl looked up through the branches, then back at him. She looked ready to run and there was still no trust in her frightened eyes.

  ‘Come on! We haven’t much time.’ He could hear the villagers snapping branches and calling out to one another now. He cursed her hesitancy and climbed up to the tree house himself, hoping she would stay true to form and follow him up.

  ‘I’ve got to go Kye,’ said Emilie as he pulled himself in. ‘I’m lighting this tree up like a beacon.’ And with that she drifted away, plunging the oak into complete darkness.

  He turned onto his belly and looked down through the trapdoor, waiting for his eyes to adjust. After a few seconds he saw the girl standing by the ladder. Her face was a mask of shadow, but he got the impression that she was looking up at him; deciding whether to climb.

  ‘What are you doing? They’ll be here any second!’ he said, beginning to panic. The voices were getting closer and at any moment he expected one of them to spot her. In his mind’s eye he could see a horseshoe of torches tightening around the foot of the tree.