by Kara Timmins
“Anyway, that’s what it’s like with the stones. I can see them just like you can, but I can sense the feeling of what they are. Once I know them, sometimes I can move them in a way. Make them want to become something else.”
“And what about this stone and the black one to the west?” Eloy asked.
“That’s like knowing something of a different species. I wouldn’t even know how to begin convincing it to be something else. We just don’t speak the same language.”
“Have you ever been to the black rock?” Eloy asked.
“I’ve done my share of roaming around, but it’s been a long while since I’ve been over there. It’s been changing for a while now. Getting louder all the time. Lately things have been getting too chaotic for me to try and understand.”
“Chaotic how?” Malatic asked.
“There are a lot of whispers now. All kinds of whispers. And dark spots in the forest. But something’s not right. It’s not part of the natural sense.”
“What do you think it—”
A chaotic shuffling in the forest stopped Eloy from finishing his question. A ball of hair crashed down from the stone wall and landed next to the fire. The only one who didn’t jump at the ruckus was Timyr.
“Quite the entrance,” Timyr said. “Sorry if she startled you. This is Vivene.”
Vivene blinked her big, round black eyes at Eloy. She was just like the creature that had taken a drink at the river a few nights before. But unlike the other, Vivene wasn’t nervous. She ambled over to Eloy, her knuckles baring all of her forward weight, and stared up at him, her little pink nose wiggling around toward the morsels of food on his glass plate. He picked up a lump of vegetable and held it out to her; her long, thin fingers wrapped around the morsel as dexterously as human hands. The knowing in her eyes as she looked at Eloy made it easy to feel warmth for her. She secured the piece of food in her mouth, sharp teeth sinking into the soft hunk of tuber before running to Timyr and climbing up to his shoulder to eat it.
“Say thank you,” Timyr said.
Vivene chirped, a lump of food still stuffed into her rounded cheek.
“She understands you?” Neasa asked.
Timyr scratched under Vivene’s chin. “Some things, I think. She’s all I have to talk to, so I talk to her a lot. I found her when she was just a little thing, fit right in the palm of my hand. She was way too young to be off her mother’s back. There are a lot of her kind around, but they live in the trees and sleep during the day. I found her at full morning. She wouldn’t have made it until night, I’m sure of that, had I not found her.
“You should have seen it. She latched onto the back of my hair for who knows how long. That was some time ago now. I tried to get her to go off with her own, but she always comes back. Can’t say I’m not glad for it. Anyway, what were you about to ask?” He looked at Eloy.
“You said there’s something going on in the forest. What do you mean?”
His face darkened, grew serious again. “I don’t know what’s out there, but I can tell you three things: it’s not of this forest. It’s disruptive. And it’s dangerous.”
Eloy stared into the fire, unblinking as he went through the facts. He wished he could see things Timyr saw, could see the color of the disruption.
Timyr yawned. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for as long as you want. It’s been safe here.”
A sweet pinch of nostalgia pulled at Eloy. Hearing Timyr talk reminded him so much of Midash. Separated by time, space, and history, the two men had no idea how similar they were.
“That’s very kind,” Eloy said. “It’ll be nice to get a full night of sleep without worry.”
“There’s no reason to worry here,” Timyr said. “If anything comes this way, I’ll know. The forest is more aware of what goes on here than you might think.”
Eloy thought back to the glowing gnats in the canyon. “I believe it.”
39
There was so much that still needed to be said, so much that still needed to be sussed out, but Eloy didn’t have the energy. The allure of a full night of peaceful sleep was too strong.
Timyr stood up and stretched his big arms over his head. “I’ll get you three set up for the night.”
Eloy, Neasa, and Malatic followed Timyr through the glass enclosure. The sound of the dribbling water was distant, muffled by the dense growth that grew around the house. Timyr walked halfway to the front archway, turned left, and disappeared into the green foliage. The three followed, finding their way by listening to Vivene’s soft coos and chirps, rummaging around and playing with Timyr’s thick beard ahead of them.
They emerged through another doorway and into another cordoned off area. Like the room where they had eaten their dinner, this part of the house was also walled in and rounded like a raindrop. Opposite the door was a simple wooden structure with a stable and sealed roof.
“The glass is great for the plants,” Timyr said. “But it isn’t so comfortable for sleeping, especially in the morning sun. I don’t sense rain, but if it does, that roof with keep you dry.”
Eloy walked into the enclosure. The stone wall was a perfect construction, each stone flush and sealed tight to the ones around it. He looked up at the thatched roof and couldn’t find a single gap. The musty smell of furs and dry grass that covered the ground was as intoxicating as a sleeping spell.
“This is better than we’ve had in a long time,” Eloy said. “Even if it did rain, it would be the best bed I’ve seen since sailing out of Oppo.”
Timyr spread out three furs on the ground. “You’re welcome to it. Sleep as long as you like. We’ll talk more in the morning. I suspect there’s more to say.”
“What about you?” Neasa asked.
“I like to be up late with Vivene. I’ve gotten used to her schedule over so many nights. Don’t you worry about me. It’s a night for sleeping in the trees, if you ask me. Sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning.”
And he was gone.
Malatic dropped down on one of the furs with a thump and pulled Neasa’s bedding closer. “Of all the things I expected to find in this forest, a glass house and hospitality was not on the list.”
“It’s just so . . . odd.” Neasa sat down on the furs and crossed her legs. “What are the chances that you just happen to run into the brother of someone you know, all the way out here?”
“It’s unlikely,” Eloy said. “Too unlikely.”
“What do you think it means?” Neasa asked.
Eloy dropped down to the furs and lay face down, burying his face in the soft hairs. “I don’t know. It would be nice if this search of mine found some answers for once, instead of more questions.”
“Here’s a question,” Malatic said. “What’re we going to do about this thing that’s supposedly roaming around where you’re supposed to find the treasure? Clearly something else is onto the fact that it exists.”
Eloy felt his grip on wakefulness weaken. “Not much to do besides go forward and find out what it is.”
“Always walking face first into spiderwebs,” Malatic said. “The Eloy way.”
But Eloy was already falling asleep.
40
Neasa and Malatic were gone by the time Eloy woke up, but he wasn’t alone.
Timyr stopped rummaging through a pile of furs in the corner next to the rock wall when he noticed Eloy stirring. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“No, you’re fine. You didn’t. Is it late?”
“Still morning. How did you sleep?”
Eloy stood up and brushed the stray strands of grass off the back of his pants. “Better than I have in a long time. Thank you.”
Timyr slung a hammock-like piece of hide across his chest and tucked a curled-up and sleeping Vivene into it. Her cradled body made a soft lump at Timyr’s hip. “It’s no problem
, really. Do you feel up for a talk?”
Eloy wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Sure.”
“Let’s get you some food.” Timyr walked toward the glass house.
Eloy followed. “Sounds good to me.”
Eloy could hear Malatic and Neasa talking somewhere amidst all of the growth inside the house.
“Your friend knows her stuff,” Timyr said. “She’s been going through plants all morning.”
“How much of what she asks about ends up in her bag?” Eloy asked.
Timyr’s deep-chested laugh sounded so familiar. “Bits and pieces of just about all of it, I’d say.”
Eloy could feel affection growing for Timyr, but it was more in association to Midash and Kella than anything else. The warmth wasn’t fair to impose onto another just because of similarity, even if it was affection.
Eloy and Timyr emerged through the house, to the fire pit, where Timyr handed Eloy a plate with a leaf over the top. “Made it a little bit ago, so it’ll be cold, but should still be good.”
Eloy lifted the waxy leaf and saw mounds of fluffy eggs, slices of vibrant red fruit, and more of the vegetables they’d had the night before. “Thank you.” He sat down on a carved, soft wooden seat and put a piece of the fruit in his mouth. The juices broke free from between his teeth and satiated his thirst.
Timyr took the seat opposite him. “You’re still planning to head toward that rock, aren’t you?”
Eloy nodded.
“Because of whatever that thing opens?” Timyr pointed at the stone under Eloy’s shirt.
Eloy swallowed his food and nodded again.
“You mind me asking what you think you’re going to find there?”
“Treasure.” Eloy felt foolish saying it out loud, as if he was still that little boy who ran out into the savanna looking for adventure.
“Treasure.” Timyr nodded toward the ground, his brow drawn, thinking. “And what are you going to do with this treasure when you find it?”
“I don’t know what it is yet. I can’t figure out what to do with it until I know.”
“Listen, we just met, and I know that what I have to say may not mean a whole lot to you, but I can’t think of any treasure worth going toward . . . whatever that thing is. It’s pacing. And it’s angry.”
Eloy sighed. “It’s not just the treasure. I’ve been doing this for so long, and I’m so close. I have to finish it. Honestly, what I hope I find more than anything is some answers. Why me? Why have I had to go through all of this?”
Timyr locked eyes with Eloy. His words were harsh, but not abrasive. “I thought like that once too. ‘I can’t go back. I made my choice. I have to move forward.’ But you know what? I should have gone back. So what if you’ve been doing one thing for so long? That doesn’t mean you have to keep doing it. The things that happen to you don’t have to have a reason. Who says there will be answers waiting for you?”
“With respect, your situation isn’t the same as mine. There’s a reason I’m here. There’s a reason I’ve come this far. I need to find out what it is.”
“And what makes you think there’s a reason?”
Eloy told him about his first meeting with Amicus, the promise, and the Seer.
“And the stone,” Eloy finished. “When I met Kella and saw her memories of Aerelion with the same stone, I knew Amicus was telling the truth.”
“Okay, I hear you. But you hear me too, right? I don’t know what’s out there, but the things I do know about this forest are bad enough. Whatever is out there now is worse than anything I’ve seen before. And you know what killed the men on the Merrow. Think on that.”
“I do hear you, and I believe you. But you don’t know what this thing is. So how can you know it’s worse?”
Timyr pulled his mouth to one side and thought carefully before answering. “Maybe because there’s something about it that reminds me of the man I used to be. There’s an irrational anger, a level of anger comes with consciousness. You’ll find cruelty there. It’s not like the creatures, the eels, that live here. They’re just surviving. This thing . . . it wants.”
“I can’t stop now,” Eloy repeated. “I won’t. I’ve faced bigger obstacles before. Now that I know the way, there isn’t anything that could convince me to give up.”
“I understand. Just thought I would try. Vivene and I decided last night that if you couldn’t be convinced to stay here or go back to the beach, we’d go with you.”
Eloy felt his eyes widen. “Didn’t you just try to convince me not to go? Why would you want to come with us?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘want’ is the right word. But helping you means that I get to do something for someone who my family thought it was important to help. Like somehow, if I help you, then my mom, Midash, and me are doing something together. I don’t know.”
Eloy put his plate of half-eaten food down on a tree stump. “I asked Midash to come with me. I wanted him to, mostly because I didn’t want to say goodbye to him. He was a good friend—a great friend—at a time when I didn’t know if I could trust anyone other than my friend Corwin ever again. I think he wanted to come.”
“No offense, but I’m real glad he didn’t. As much as I’d like the idea of seeing my brother again, I wouldn’t want to see him here. Not in this forest.”
“I’m glad he didn’t too.” Eloy listened for Neasa and Malatic, their conversation indiscernible from this distance. “So, what’s next?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Timyr laughed. “This is your quest, not mine.”
“Well, I’m figuring things out as I go. This is your forest. You’d know what to do better than I would.”
“This isn’t my forest.” All frivolity was gone. Timyr inhaled slowly and exhaled. “We can prepare for the trip to the rock as best we can. I can get you there, that’s certain. It’s going to take a while, a few weeks, maybe more. But there’s nothing we can do to prepare for the thing out there.”
“Are you growing anything here that could help? Perhaps in nontraditional ways?”
“Not so much. It’s mostly food. A few things here and there that’s good for making tools, like ropes and patchwork fibers.”
“Probably just as well,” Eloy said. “I wouldn’t know what to do with it if we did. Neasa might, but she doesn’t know this land like her own. I doubt she’d be comfortable playing around with things she doesn’t know like that.”
There was a rustling from the doorway. “Comfortable playing with what?” Neasa asked.
She sat cross-legged on the ground and popped a piece of fruit from Eloy’s plate into her mouth.
“Seeing if there’s something we can do with the plants to protect ourselves from whatever lives by the rock,” Eloy said.
“Yeah, probably not,” she said.
Malatic sat down on the ground next to Neasa. “That’s the plan? We’re going to throw leaves at it?”
“Things from the forest have saved us before,” Eloy said.
“True,” Malatic agreed.
“Timyr and I were discussing it because he’s going to be coming with us,” Eloy said.
Neasa and Malatic had matching looks of surprise, but Neasa broke into a smile first.
“Really?” she said. “That’s great. I can ask you about things as we go.”
“I don’t think he’s coming with to be your plant guide, Neas,” Malatic said.
Timyr winked at Neasa. “Let’s pretend I am.”
41
A few weeks had passed, and they still hadn’t left Timyr’s glass house. Eloy didn’t push it, even though the need to keep moving was becoming an actual itch in his legs. The journey was different now that he knew they were moving toward something of actual, guaranteed danger. Neasa and Malatic had come with him, on their own adventure, there was no doubt, but Eloy was leading them, and now thei
r path led to the salivating mouth of danger. He wanted to tell them to go back to the beach, all three of them, and wait for a ship to come and take them back to something sure and known. But he couldn’t.
Every passing day in the glass house made the decision linger. He felt sick with himself. No matter how many times he tried to rationalize it, he came back around to an uncomfortable truth: he didn’t want to go on without them. He didn’t want to be alone.
Fortunately, Neasa and Timyr filled the evenings with conversation about the things that lived and grew in the forest. Eloy heard something when Neasa spoke that he hadn’t heard since his time in Valia. He was sure the friendship between Neasa and Timyr would have happened on its own, but Eloy had no doubt there was benefit from a similarity she seemed to be seeing between Timyr and Critiko and Gwyn. Eloy was sure he would have seen it too, were it not for the undeniable familial link to someone beloved in his own past. So he watched and listened and sank deeper into his guilt.
He decided that the least he could do was wait and let Timyr decide when to leave. But even that decision felt weak. The end of every day found the four of them sitting around the fire eating something fresh, seasoned, and delicious. The ritual was a padding to daily life, like an island of ease in the middle of a sea of discomfort. Eloy wanted to move, but sitting still in Timyr’s cultivated comfort was far from torturous.
Eloy was lost in his thoughts as he sat in front of the nightly fire when he felt something hit his bent knee. He looked down, startled. Two black, glassy eyes blinked up at him. “Hi, Vivene,” he said with shock. In all the days they had been staying in the glass house, this was the first time Vivene jumped on anyone other than Timyr.
“Would you look at that!” Timyr said with a laugh. “Guess she’s gotten used to you.”
Eloy held out his hand and Vivene grasped his pointer finger with her little hands and squeezed. Eloy marveled at the little fingernails at the end of each thin finger. Her hands were so human, like the nails of an infant, only smaller.
