I roll onto my back. The resistance to move lessens.
“Oh, we have to get this dirt off of you.” A tiny hand brushes my cheek. “You definitely don’t want to eat that.” The breeze of beating wings tickles my chin.
My eyelids crack open. I can’t tell if it’s a faerie or a brownie hovering above my cheek. She has a face that’s much more inviting and pleasant than the brownie I had met.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“My name is Selah, and if you’re Miya, I’m the gardener at your cottage.”
“I am Miya.” I prop myself up on my elbows. “Where am I?”
“This is the Forest of Deception—which is why we need to leave. Now.”
I stagger to my feet. “I don’t even know which direction to go.”
“Follow me.” She flies with a swiftness I’m sure I can’t match.
I stumble after her, watching my feet to make sure I don’t trip on the path’s stones. It’s stiflingly hot in this forest. I try to run. It hurts to breathe.
It hurts to stay awake.
“Miya!” Selah flies back until she’s inches away from my face. “It’s well past midday! If we don’t run, we’ll never reach the edge by twilight!”
“I can’t run!” I’m whining, but I can’t help it. Sweat pours off my eyebrows, nose, chin.
“Can’t means won’t!” she calls out over her shoulder.
What does that even mean? “I’m coming!” As fast as these legs will run, too. And my not smoking helps. Running hurts less than it did back home. Ashes have done nothing to feed me.
I run as fast as I can until my legs and lungs scream at me. Still no sign of the edge of this forest. I walk fast, wheezing and panting.
The tsit buzzes past my head again. Oh no, not more brownies! I really dislike those things. They’re buzzing all around my head now. I’m not going to swat them away this time, but oh, I want to. And I want to block my ears.
A scuffle sounds in the bracken behind me. Startled, I turn.
A young man steps out of the thicket and onto the path. He’s got to be at least a foot taller than me. I jump back, crying out.
“Oh, no need to be frightened,” he says in a velvety voice. He strokes the thin beard on his chiseled face and smiles. “I saw you going in the same direction as me and, well, I’d love some company on the road. Wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose.” I glance off at where Selah might be by now. Where did she go? I’m still trying to collect my wits after he startled me.
“Did you braid your hair like that?”
I look over at him and take him in fully for the first time. His long hair flutters behind him in the slightest breeze and his baby blue eyes draw me in.
“A friend braided this for me.” I gaze up at his smile.
“It’s beautiful. I love the flowers.”
My hand reaches around to the back of my head to feel. I didn’t even see Jewel put those there.
“How did you get in here?” He looks at me with a sense of wonder crossing his face. Is he for real?
“I…A lamb showed me the path.”
His top lip curls in a sneer. “Oh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You like that lamb?”
“I don’t really know him, but he was so much friendlier than that fox thing I saw.”
Offense crosses his face. “You know the kitsune too?”
“Is that what you call the fox thing?”
He nods, keeping his eyes fixed on me.
“I met him briefly, yeah.” I shiver away the memory.
“And you’re going to judge him based on that one meeting?”
I look up at this young man’s face but see a flash of that kitsune’s horrible, lip-less mouth. All those teeth. Then I see those baby blue eyes again.
Wow. He is one good looking guy, like the sort on the cover of those teen magazines back home.
“What if the kitsune was having a bad day?” he asks. “What if he’s normally sweet and kind and gorgeous?”
“You mean like you?” Did I just say that? I want to throw up, but whether it’s from embarrassment or aversion I can’t tell. I try to smile to pass it off. I’m not sure if what’s on my face is a smile.
“Well, I suppose you’re just passing through.” His face falls downcast, but again, it might be genuine or it might be a ploy.”
“Aren’t you just passing through too?” I ask.
“This is my home.” He gestures to a hostile looking tree. “This forest is quite misunderstood, really. It’s a wonderful place full of mystery and intrigue.”
Can it really be as bad as Jewel and Selah said?
At the moment I don’t care. I just want him close. Oh my! He is one good looking guy.
And he’s paying attention to me.
Ugh. How is this any different from Daryl? A guy shows me a little attention and suddenly he’s gorgeous and I’m smitten.
I’m ridiculous.
I force the ridiculous smile off my face. “I’ve got to go. I have somewhere to be.”
There’s an odd glint in his eyes. “Do you have somewhere to go? Or has everyone told you to stay away from me?”
“Well, not you, but here.” I look at the trees, trying to see them from his point of view. I feel sick again.
His mouth turns down. “If you leave, I don’t think I’ll ever meet someone as brave as you again.”
“I’m sure you will.” But I’d love to hear his voice a bit longer if he’s going to speak to me like this. My eyes find those baby blues again.
“Can I at least walk with you?” His smile tugs at me.
“Sure.” My cheeks warm. “I’d like that.”
“I promise to get you to your chosen destination at the proper time.”
I don’t care if he does or doesn’t. Oh, I’m such a silly girl.
There’s no sign of Selah ahead of me, but I walk in that direction with a skip in my step.
He walks beside me.
“So, what’s your name?” I ask. “Since, you know, we’re walking this road together.”
“Crevan. What’s yours?”
“Miya.”
“Ooh, that’s a beautiful name. I never met someone named Miya before. Is that short for anything?”
“Sort of. Like Jeremiah, but shortened to just Miya.”
“It’s nice, I like it.”
It must be the stifling air of this forest, but he’s almost intoxicating. “Crevan’s a nice name too.”
When he smiles I can’t help but smile back. Our hands brush as we walk side by side. My whole arm tingles.
I want that to happen again.
It does. And as soon as it does, my fingers entwine with his.
We walk hand in hand for an hour or more.
At least the tsit has stopped.
Then so do we.
I stand under the canopy of trees and stare at the way the dappled setting sun hits his tanned skin. I want to kiss him, but I don’t know enough about him. “Are you…are you friends with those brownie things?”
He chuckles, a sound that sends a shiver up my spine.
I inch my foot away and try to slip my fingers away from being entwined with his.
“I take it you’ve been acquainted,” he says. “You’ll get used to them. They are cute, though. I wish they were my size.” The sparkle in his eyes triggers a surge of jealousy so strong I want to deck him.
“That’s fine.” I tug my hand to my side and ball it in a fist.
“Don’t get jealous.” His tone goads me.
“Miya!” Someone calls my name from far away in the south. It’s Selah, I’m sure of it.
Crevan chuckles again. “Jealousy is so childish.”
My nails dig into my palms. “Jealousy begs for commitment.”
“Commitment is for the weak and the cowardly.”
Fury fills me. I punch him in the chest. “You can keep the brownies, Crevan! I’ve had enough of your arrogance and of this plac
e.”
No! The sun is leaving the sky! I run to the south as fast as I can, ignoring the sweat pouring off me, the stabbing pain in my lungs and the way my legs seem to fight this flight.
“Miya!” Selah continues to call, but she’s so far off.
“I’m coming!” The light is slowly ebbing from the sky and I can’t see the edge of the forest. I don’t know if I’ll ever make it out of here, but I have to try. I can’t get stuck in here with Crevan and the brownies. The light’s leaving. The sun has set. No! Twilight—I can’t face twilight in this forest on my own.
A strong musky smell fills my nostrils. A flash of reddish gray crosses my path followed by a mass of bushy tails that bob against the stones.
I pull out my sword again.
Crevan’s standing in the middle of the path ahead of me. How did he get there so fast? I didn’t even see him pass me.
“Are you going to run me through with a sword now?” he asks.
I slow to a stop and sheathe the sword. “No, I saw the fox.” I try to catch my breath.
“Like I said, are you going to run me through with the sword?” His face flickers briefly into the crude clay mask the kitsune had for a face.
“I—I—I’m not staying here a second longer.”
He looks at the sky and emits his horrible chuckle again. “It’s twilight, baby. Whoever stays here until twilight belongs to me.”
I pull the sword out again. I think of what Abbie would say in this circumstance. “There’s no way you’re going to own me.”
He chuckles again. I could go the rest of my life without ever hearing that awful sound again. But I’ll have to hear it all the time if I’m stuck here. “You could have your choice,” he says. “You could be a brownie or a harpy. With a face like yours you’ll make a better harpy.”
I don’t think I can get out of here on my own. Not without killing him. “Help!” I call out to the sky. But will Selah or anyone else be able to help me here? Could the lamb help me?
Crevan steps closer to me. “It’d be a shame to see you lose those lovely lips for a beak.”
I point my sword toward his belly. “Everything you have told me has been a lie. I have no reason to believe you.”
“And who will help you when you’re a harpy? Huh? At least you’ll have me to pay attention to.”
“Help!” I shout at the sky. I wave my sword at him. “Back up! I’m leaving.”
“And how will you leave?” His chuckle riles me. “Where’s your path?”
He’s right. I can’t see the stones. Not a single one. Trembling, I have to hold the sword with both hands now. “I’m leaving, even if that means I have to kill you to get out!”
Something beyond Crevan glows white in the middle of the path. Bright white. The lamb!
“He’s here! He’s come for me!”
Crevan growls and transforms into the kitsune before my eyes. He hisses and barks at me. As he edges toward me, foam drips from his lip-less mouth.
I step back, trying to avoid touching the trees or bracken. “Stay away from me!” I can’t believe I held his hand. Gross.
Nothing more stands between me and the lamb. I keep my sword tip pointed at the kitsune as I sideways skip toward the lamb.
The kitsune prowls behind me. I want to keep my eyes on the brilliant lamb, but I dare not take my eyes off the fox.
Then I remember that foxes will eat lambs. How can I protect myself and the lamb?
Somehow I have the feeling this lamb is different from all others. I don’t have any idea what he’d be able to do, but I hope for his help.
The kitsune pounces at my heels, scratching at me. I swing my sword and make contact with its face. I hit it with the broad side of the sword. The kitsune’s head reels back with the blow then swerves again to face me with those hollow, empty eyes. It jumps onto the path ahead of me as if to cut off my escape route. It crouches low as if to pounce again. On me this time.
The lamb leaps over the kitsune’s head and lands on the path in between us. When the kitsune pounces this time, the lamb jumps again and tackles him in midair. I scream as they tumble over down the path, in the very direction I need to go. I run after this tangled mass. Can I even help the lamb?
Ahead, the trees start to thin.
The growls and bleats rend the air. The hair on my arms stands on end. Waves of fear wash through my body. My belly feels like water.
But I can see the end of the forest. I hesitate. Should I try to save the lamb? But what could I do? Or should I make my escape as fast as I can? I can tell there’s lots of blood, even with the lamb and the kitsune almost a city block’s distance away from me, and even though it’s almost completely dark.
Harpies swoop at my head. Once again, the tsit buzzes past my ears. Over this loud buzzing, the growls and barks of the kitsune and the bleats of the lamb bellow through the forest.
Gripping my sword, I throw my hands over my ears and run toward the break in the trees.
Harpy talons scratch my arm and the side of my head. A dozen pinpricks sting my arms and neck. I tumble out of the forest’s thick air and roll onto the grass, dizziness rocking the very core of me. Sobbing and shaking, pulling myself forward on my elbows, I edge away from the forest.
My legs won’t move. My head feels so heavy.
Please, please don’t let me go to sleep again. Not here.
I lie on the ground weeping, fading from consciousness as tiny fingers pull the needles from my skin.
“For you have delivered my soul from death,
my eyes from tears,
my feet from stumbling…”
Psalm 116:8
Chapter 19
Refuge and Training
Heaving large gasps of breath, I try to settle my sobbing. Then I think of the lamb and his bleats, and fresh waves of tears pour out of me. I’m so tired.
“You can’t fall asleep here, Miya,” Selah whispers in my ear. “We’re still too close to the forest.”
“I know.” And its awful sounds. I can’t hear the lamb or the kitsune anymore. I want to shout out to the lamb to make sure he’s alive, but I know that’s not possible. He lost so much blood. So much blood. And all for my sake.
I clamber to my feet and waver on shaky legs. Using my sword in its scabbard like a walking stick, I hobble across the meadow toward the lighted house in the distance.
Candles shine in every window and the place oozes ‘home’.
I don’t deserve to go to a place like that. Not after how I behaved with Crevan. I’m so ashamed.
Under a half moon, with faeries all around me, I cross the meadow slowly, ready at any moment to collapse.
“You have to keep going,” Selah says in an encouraging tone. “You can do it.”
“I can’t.” My legs almost give way beneath me.
“Can’t means won’t.”
Okay, this time I’ll ask. “What does that mean?” I’m whining again. Yuck.
“It means you could if you wanted to. That will of yours,” she taps my temple, “is more powerful than you think.”
That makes more sense to me than anything I’ve heard all day.
I hesitate at the open gate and look at Selah and her friends. “I’m not really going to turn into a harpy, am I?”
One of her faerie friends flies up to my forehead and blows gently. “Clear his lies from your mind. Here we are, and rest comes soon.”
“Leellah has made your bead ready,” another faerie says.
“Why me?” I ask, but I don’t know what answer I even want.
“Sleep first, Miya. Answers will come when you wake.”
The house is yellow with white trim and green shudders and has a wide porch. As I grip the railing to climb the steps, the green front door opens.
I’m suddenly hungry. I’m so hungry, in fact, that I probably can’t sleep until I eat something.
Someone must have anticipated this. On the table is a pitcher of water with slices of lemon, and beside it
a bowl filled with cantaloupe and strawberries.
I turn to Selah. “May I?”
“It’s for you.”
Fresh tears drench my face. “Thank you.”
Dizzy and blurry-eyed, I grip whatever I can find as I make my way into the house.
Ten or more faeries pull out a chair for me. I plop into it, laying the sword across my knee.
All around the bowl of fruit and the pitcher of water are thirty or more tiny chairs. The faeries gather around and sit on these.
There are whispers around the table and faces fall downcast.
“He did what?” one of the faeries asks.
“There’s no sign that he’s made it out alive,” another tells her.
One faerie curls her knees to her chest and sobs.
“Let us give thanks anyway,” Selah says.
Will the faeries allow me to stay here? Selah called this my cottage, but if they realize the lamb is dead because of me, they might throw me out.
The faeries all bow their heads.
“We don’t understand what you do or what you’ve just done,” Selah says, “but we know you are good and we thank you for food that refreshes.”
Each of the faeries flies to my plate with a piece of fruit, then goes back to get another for herself.
There’s a deeply somber mood in the candlelit room as we begin to eat. Some of the faeries cry softly. The glow of the candles against the pine woodwork of this house even gleams sadly as if the whole world dims in sorrow.
Starved, I shovel the sweet fruit in my mouth and gulp the water. I had no idea grief would make me this hungry.
Then again, I hadn’t eaten all day.
Some of the faeries eat, others do not. No one talks. Every few minutes, a sob breaks the silence.
When I finish, Selah and several others show me the way to my bedroom upstairs. No one speaks above a whisper.
I sink into the mattress, my heavy head thumping the pillow. My sword clunks onto the floor.
Several faeries untie and remove my shoes. I’m asleep before the blankets cover me.
Dreams overwhelm me. Dreams filled with the shrieks of harpies, the barks of the kitsune, the bleats of the lamb. Fitful and hot, I toss and turn, throwing the blankets off me. Sunlight pours in. I can’t wake.
Ash Eater Page 10
