by Justin Bloch
“You’re an angel.” He caught the cop’s eye and held it, refusing to back down. He had been terrified of the guide, and knowing that he was traveling with it frightened him, but angels were the good guys. Sol was his protector. And this was important, this was a question he had to have answered. If he gave in this time, he would never stop giving in. Silence spooled out between them.
“I am both,” Sol responded after several moments. He paused, took a breath, and went on. “When Lucifer was cast from Heaven, he blamed man for his fall. He wanted vengeance, and he turned the Source’s gifts to Residents, their free will and their karma, against them. He sent demons to your world, to tempt and influence, to ruin man’s karma and his chance of gaining Heaven. The Source selected some of its angels to be guardians, to watch over your world and stop the demons from interfering. I was one of those chosen to become a karma policeman.”
Nathaniel gaped at Sol. “What happens to those who do interfere?”
“Death,” answered Sol simply. “Like the vissika in your apartment. To defy the Source is to invite its punishment.”
Nathaniel stared at the karma policeman. At the seraph. He could barely believe what he was hearing. He had just learned that God, or at least something like God, actually existed. Now he had discovered that angels were real as well. And he was hanging out with one. It was awesome. “Hey, where’s your halo?” he asked enthusiastically.
The karma policeman sighed, raised a hand to rub his temple. “I don’t have a halo, none of us do.”
Nathaniel looked at him, questions flooding his mind. But he was overwhelmed with what he knew already, and after a moment, he nodded and started forward. Sol looked relieved and began again to push through the forest.
They moved in silence. Nathaniel had lost track of how long they’d been pushing through the forest, but the muscles in his legs had started to burn. Somewhere to their left a tree creaked slowly and without end, a hollow, haunting sound in the hush. The underbrush had grown denser, fraught with brambles that clawed at them, and the fairy dust path became harder to make out. Nathaniel was certain now that there was something in the woods with them, tracking them. His mind rolled uneasily over the vissika which had almost killed him. He wondered how many more there were in this world.
“I thought you said the Cathedral wasn’t that far,” he said in a low tone. Neither had spoken in some time, and his voice in the stillness was unnerving.
“I haven’t been here in a very long time. The Fainted Wood is more vast than I remember.”
“We’re being followed, you know,” Nathaniel noted in an offhand way, hoping that whoever was watching would be too far away to pick up the words.
“Yes,” Sol said. “Almost since we got here. Wood sprites. They won’t bother us.”
“What are they?” He shot anxious glances around the forest, both high and low, trying to pick out hidden forms among the shadows.
“They watch over the forest. No one travels here except by their leave.”
“And do we have their leave?”
Sol made a sound like a laugh. “The karma police have leave wherever they go. Nothing stands in our way.”
They walked. The moon, bone white against the silhouetted leaves, arced across the sky as the clandestine sounds of surveillance continued. Nathaniel could hear running water somewhere off to their right, and the trees thinned out ahead. “Looks like a stream up here,” he said, pointing.
The karma policeman paused for a moment, holding a withered pine branch out of his way. “The River Mai,” he said. “The life of this forest.”
They shoved through the last of the thick bushes and emerged at the top of a hill which sloped sharply down to the water’s edge. The stream was wider than Nathaniel had expected, at least twenty-five feet across. He thought of the brook they had passed earlier, how Sol had said it was unclean, and winced at the thought of swimming this stretch.
Sol spent several seconds peering at the water. Then, as if he’d read Nathaniel’s mind, “We’ll have to look for a bridge. This water is dangerous, we won’t risk swimming it.”
“What do you mean?”
The karma policeman was quiet for a moment, appraising. “It’s tainted. Some force has changed the water for the worse.”
“Like the other stream we saw?” Nathaniel asked.
The karma policeman nodded but said nothing, only gazed in confusion at the river.
“What about the path?” Nathaniel asked. “If we lose the path, how will we find the Spiral?” On the opposite bank, he could make out only a few twinkles of dust, like tiny constellations snagged in the bushes.
“We don’t need the path anymore. Look,” the policeman whispered, raising one hand to point above the tree line on the opposite bank. There, slicing across the stark moon, was a rough shadow spire, canted slightly to one side and sharpened to a thin, vicious point. “Come,” he continued. “There must be a way across further along.”
The bank was clear of shrubs and trees, and travel became much easier. The air was scented with a pleasant combination of pine, earth, and minerals from the river. The pitch sky was covered with stars, more than Nathaniel had ever even guessed there were, and the soft susurrus of the water was soothing.
They had walked another half hour when they saw the bridge. Nathaniel was the first to spot it, high above the water. The river had been widening steadily as they made their way and was now to the point where Nathaniel thought it had actually earned the name. Up ahead the land rose sharply into bluffs on either side. The bridge was strung at the top of these. Nathaniel and the cop made their way back into the woods, moving on a diagonal away from the water, aiming for the base of the rocky hill that led to the bridge. The underbrush here was the thickest they had encountered, and after the ease of the riverbank it seemed all the more difficult to maneuver. When they did finally gain the hill, the slope was so steep that they were forced to climb using both their hands and feet in some places. Towards the top, the dirt gave way to stone, and after a few feet of that, they came to a roughly hewn flight of stairs. When they reached the summit, Nathaniel was breathing hard, though the karma policeman barely seemed winded. From this vantage they had a partial panorama of the forest, framed by leaves and the high branches of the trees bordering the bluff. The rock was covered with a thick, springy moss, and Nathaniel collapsed onto it, his eyes tracing the arc of the bridge across the gap, then up to the stars above. Sol sat down beside him after a moment.
“I don’t know whether I’m hungrier or sleepier,” Nathaniel said. Now that he was down, even on the uncomfortable rock, he could not imagine getting back up.
“We can doss down here for the night. I don’t know what has happened to the forest, but it is stronger on the other side of the river. I won’t risk it in the dark.” Sol rustled around in his jacket, offered something across the dark space. “Manna,” he said.
Nathaniel took it, turned it over in his hands. It was a bread roll, and he took a bite, then closed his eyes with pleasure. It was delicious, crusty, like homemade French bread, and his hunger had vanished by the time he was finished.
“You should try to get some sleep,” the policeman said.
“What about you?” Nathaniel asked. His eyelids had grown heavy and the crisp, dark air felt cool on his tired muscles.
“I’ll be fine.”
Nathaniel laid back and rolled onto his side, using his arm for a pillow. He thought that it would be impossible to sleep after the night he’d had, but he was gone within minutes.
Sol shook him awake early the next morning. The sun had just begun its trip through the sky, but the air was already warm, and Nathaniel stretched and rubbed his eyes. A light breeze ruffled his hair. He lay where he was for several moments, staring at the forest around him. He still saw no birds. As far as he could tell, Sol had been right and the forest was lifeless.
The karma policeman jerked his head toward the bridge as Nathaniel rose and he turned, saw a girl st
riding onto it, and remembered the wood sprites.
She stopped halfway across, where the bridge’s curve dipped lowest. She was about fifteen years old, dressed in a patchwork of greens and browns. She stood completely still, but as the wind moved the shift she wore, it rippled and flowed, and Nathaniel thought he saw the length and color pattern of the garment change to mimic the way leaves moved in the breeze. Her hair was softest brown and plaited into an intricate braid which came down over her shoulder and fell the length of her torso. There were flowers woven into it, bright canary yellows and robin reds. Her face revealed nothing of her intentions, but she carried a long, thick wooden staff, taller than she was, which came to a point at one end and flattened into a spatula at the other. Nathaniel thought that she probably hadn’t come to welcome them to the forest. Sol regarded her with curiosity, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I bid you go no further,” she announced.
Sol bowed deeply to her, his arms extended to either side. Taking his cue, Nathaniel did the same, keeping his eyes lowered to the mossy ground. After a moment, the policeman straightened and motioned for Nathaniel to do the same.
“May the forest ’ere be your life, milady,” Sol said, touching his hand to his chest then extending it to her.
“We are well met.” She paused for a moment, her cloak billowing out behind her and confusing Nathaniel, who hadn’t noticed the hood before. “I bid you go no further.”
“We are going to the Spiral,” Sol said.
The girl stared at them. A few stray locks of her hair caught in the breeze and fluttered in front of her face. “None may cross this river, not even a knight of the choirs. It is spoiled by what sleeps on the other side.” She looked down at the water, and her face grew grim. “We give you no leave to continue.”
“Milady,” the karma policeman began, his tone polite, “with humble apologies, we appreciate but do not require, your leave.”
The girl shook her head slowly. “It does not matter, none shall cross. The Cathedral is desecrated and you could not reach the Spiral. There is an evil there which sleeps, and the sprites will not allow any to wake that foulness. While it dreams, the Fainted Wood lives.” Her cloak was gone, her dress now a tunic, short and tight. The colors of the fabric danced as the sun passed behind a cloud. She seemed to gather her courage, drew herself up to her full height. “None shall cross.”
Sol stepped forward to the edge of the bridge. “You have no say in our travels, Inhabitant,” he said, and all of the politeness in his voice had disappeared. “You will stand aside and allow us passage. I am duty-bound, and my duty takes me to the other side of this bridge.”
The girl widened her stance and raised the staff, taking it in both hands. “I cannot allow you to cross,” she said, her voice quavering. She leaned back and to the right so that the spatula end of her weapon was tilted behind her.
The karma policeman strode forward without hesitation, the bridge swaying with his rapid steps. Nathaniel watched, tense, waiting for the straight razor to flash out.
But the blade was still hidden in one of his jacket’s pockets when Sol reached the middle of the bridge. He made it most of the way through, “Stand aside,” when the girl struck out at him, the flat end of her staff arcing up in a vicious uppercut. He bent backward with an eerie grace and the wood whistled past his jaw. The girl’s recovery was quick and she stabbed at him with the opposite end of the weapon, but Sol was fast, faster than Nathaniel would have guessed in that long, cumbersome jacket. He twisted his body to the side and brought his hands up, grasped the staff around the middle as it slipped past him, yanked it from the girl’s hold. He snapped it in half and tossed the pieces over the side of the bridge, then swooped down upon the girl, who had been backing away, her eyes wide and terrified. He grabbed her by the tunic and heaved her over the railing of the bridge, dangling her slim body above the water fifty feet below.
“No!” she shrieked. “No, please don’t drop me!”
“You have denied a karma policeman right of passage, sprite,” Sol hissed, shaking her. “You are fully aware that I am given judgment over you.”
Nathaniel found himself running across the bridge towards the pair, unaware until his feet had hit the wooden planks that he’d even had any intention of moving.
“I beg for mercy at your whim!” the girl screamed, writhing in his grip, clutching his wrists with her own tiny hands. Her eyes seemed to fill her face.
“Sol, what are you doing, she’s just a kid!” Nathaniel cried, grabbing him by the arm. “Put her down, for God’s sake, she’s just a kid!”
The cop whirled on Nathaniel and shoved him away with one hand. The force that Nathaniel had witnessed in the shelter space was there in the tall policeman’s gaze. His teeth were clenched and bared, but Nathaniel steeled himself and took a step forward, holding his ground this time. “Put her down,” he said again.
For a moment he thought Sol was still going to drop her. But after a few seconds the karma policeman heaved the girl back over the railing and dropped her roughly to the bridge. She scrambled frantically backwards toward the other side of the chasm, crying now, large, round tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Wait,” Sol said, his head hung low. He raised a hand to her, and the girl froze.
“No, please, please let me go, mercy at your whim,” she cried, her words cascading like the rush of a rain swollen stream.
“Soothe yourself,” he said, his tone once more calm. “You are meant no further harm.” The policeman bowed again, his arms extended on either side. “I cry your pardon.”
The girl sniffed and wiped her face, then stood, wary. After a moment of careful scrutiny, she dipped low in a curtsey, her tunic once more a dress, never taking her eyes off of the policeman. “I cry your pardon as well.”
He shook his head, dismissing the apology. “May we hold palaver?”
She motioned toward the hilltop where they had spent the night. “There is a clearing, near the base of—”
“No,” Sol interrupted, and shook his head. “We will not go backwards.”
The girl frowned. “Not over the river,” she said, then glanced behind her. “Just down the hill there is a glade.” The karma policeman nodded, and she started back across, moving lightly over the swaying bridge.
Once she was out of earshot, the policeman turned to Nathaniel. “She is not just a kid,” he said in a low voice. “She is a wood sprite, and the trees themselves will bend to her will.”
“She talks like a character in a book,” Nathaniel said enthusiastically.
“Do not assume that just because you’ve read books you know what to expect from this world,” Sol snapped. “You may think that this place is a fairy tale, but you’re wrong. Danger is everywhere here.” He paused, looking in the direction of the Cathedral. “Come, the sprite awaits.”
They crossed the bridge together. Nathaniel watched the dark water churning below, annoyed at the way the karma policeman had chastised him. He supposed Sol was right, but it still hurt.
The hill leading back to the forest floor on this side was much less treacherous, and they made it down without trouble. The underbrush was lighter, and the bark on the trees darker, almost black on some of the older ones. The policeman led the way, making straight for a small clearing where Nathaniel could see flashes of the girl moving.
They pushed between two saplings and into the glade and the girl smiled at them. Had he not witnessed it himself, Nathaniel never would have guessed that not two minutes before, she had been attacking a full grown man. She was wearing the cloak once again, with her hood raised, and she sat down on the smooth stump of a tree and crossed her legs at the ankles. Sun filtering through the leaves played tiny patterns of light and dark on the girl’s face.
“The sprites have been able to maintain some oases against the sickness, and this is one of them,” she said, grinning proudly. “We may speak freely here.”
Sol cleared his throat, crossed his arm
s across his chest. Standing, he seemed to tower over the seated girl. “What is your name?”
The smile vanished and the girl turned serious. “Sylvia. I am a Dame of the family Ollisoph,” she replied, folding her hands primly in her lap.
“Why did you try to stop us from crossing the bridge?”
“None may cross to this side of the river, so the royal court has decreed,” she said. She sounded as if she was reading from a script. “It is spoiled land and its vileness continues to spread.”
“I don’t understand,” countered the karma policeman. “I thought the wood sprites protected the forest, not cordoned it off. What is causing the sickness?”
“A fiend. There lies a wickedness inside the Cathedral that profanes it. A beast that slumbers.” She was quiet for a moment, then added pointedly, “For now.”
“What kind of beast?”
“It is an evil for which we have no name.” Her voice was as weak as a sapling pushing its way up through the soil.
Sol stared at her for a moment. “Is there nothing you can tell us about it?”
“Naught but that it is turning the forest into a wasteland. The Fainted Wood is ancient as the ocean floor and has sheltered more animals than there are grains of sand, but none dwell here now save the sprites and the trees. Even the Cathedral’s custodian has left. If the blight continues to spread, the sprites will no longer even have the trees to watch over.” She leaned closer to the two of them and whispered, “The River Mai is life for this forest. The wood sprites are powerful, but mayhap even we cannot force a tree to abstain from drink.”
The policeman sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. “There are no other Spirals in these parts?”
“None for leagues in any direction,” the girl replied, honest regret in her voice.
Sol walked back and forth in the narrow glade, biting his lip. His hands were deep in his pockets. At last he halted his anxious pacing and faced them. “We will go to the Cathedral.”
The girl looked terrified, her eyes wide and her mouth a frightened circle. “No, I beg you, do not risk this,” she cried. “It is cursed ground.”
