by Valerie Puri
“I look forward to it,” he said, licking his thin lips.
Isaac clapped him on the back. Pain throbbed against Sash’s skull with the impact. He tensed, his attack reflex in full swing.
“Sash the dependable. I knew I could trust you.”
He puffed out his chest again. Finally, he had a purpose again. For years, he had to fight to earn Victor’s approval. Never quite being an equal, but always used to advance the agenda. Now, Isaac was offering him the opportunity to truly be an equal part in driving the Order’s initiative.
The sinking feeling in his stomach was fading, just as the throbbing in his head eased.
He glanced over at Goggles, who was back to sweeping the floor. Something about the slow, methodical way he brushed the broom across the floor reminded Sash of a docile. The steady rhythm was just how one of the creatures would do it. He was working as if in a trance, his eyes hidden behind his lenses.
This scrawny man was the key to the Order’s success. He was the very picture of helplessness. Sash despised weak people, and Goggles definitely couldn’t fend for himself. At the slightest jab, he toppled over when the intruders entered.
That’s why Isaac trusts me to protect him. If anything happens to him, we fail.
“I need to return to the surface now,” Isaac said, interrupting Sash’s musings. “With Victor removed and Marlene gone, there’s unrest among the Commune. It’s the perfect time to plant one of our own in a position of power.”
Sash grinned. “You’re shaping up to be more cunning than I gave you credit for. Those undesirables are in for a surprise when they realize they lost. The Order is everywhere and too powerful to fail. You will carry on where Victor couldn’t.”
Isaac placed a firm hand on Sash’s shoulder. “Protect Goggles. Protect our secrets. The silent war continues.”
Thirteen
Ethan
After three days in the forest, Ethan was ready for their journey to be over. Not for him, but for Jennie’s sake.
One night when she peeled off her boots and socks to rest her feet, he noticed how red and swollen her blisters were.
“Are those new boots?” Ethan asked. “New boots always rub my feet raw.”
“No, but they’re chafing in places I’m not used to. It’s the rough terrain. It’s harder than walking on the smooth ground back at the Commune.”
Ethan sat down near her and took her foot in his hands. He used his thumbs to massage the bottom, careful not to touch the blisters on the sides.
Her shoulders slouched as she leaned back against a tree trunk. “That feels nice.” She closed her eyes.
“We’ll reach Arborville soon. Then we can get into the safety of the trees.”
“I still can’t picture houses built off the ground,” Jennie said. “They may be safe from lemerons, but what about bears? They can climb. After running into that one earlier, I am not in a hurry to meet another.”
Ethan smiled. “Just be glad it was a bear and not another lemeron.”
“Believe me, I am,” Jennie said.
“At least the bear didn’t bother us and moved on. To answer your question, no. Bears don’t come around our homes.”
Ethan wished he could have more moments like that. Sitting with Jennie, talking, and making her feel relaxed and safe. Instead, they were still trekking through the forest. Until they reached his home, they were still in danger. Lemerons could be over any hill or behind any tree.
After the first attack, Ethan was cautious. He listened for the woods to tell him the way. When the birds sang, it was safe. When the forest grew quiet, it meant danger was near. The birds and animals could sense when the lemerons grew close, and so they fled. Their absence was a prelude to danger. Ethan lead Jennie away from the potential threat whenever the forest grew silent.
At night, they were stationary. After the hours of rigorous travel, they had to get their rest. Each night, Ethan and Jennie would take turns sleeping while the other kept watch. He took the first watch, letting Jennie get her rest.
On the first evening, he watched her slow and steady breathing as she slept. She was so peaceful, despite all the surrounding danger. When it was her turn to be lookout, he considered letting her sleep. But he needed to rest if he was to lead them in the morning.
Sleep evaded him. In his mind, every twig snapping or leaf rustling was an approaching lemeron. Just when his eyes closed and sleep would overcome him, he would hear a noise. Snapping awake, he would grip his dagger. Careful not to alarm Jennie, he would give the excuse of having to use the bathroom, then scout around their camp. To his relief, he never found a lemeron.
It happened all three nights since they had left. He barely slept, and when he did, it was only for a few minutes at a time. He couldn’t go on like this. Exhaustion would overtake him. He was just as relieved as Jennie to approach Arborville.
The first thing he wanted to do when he got home was to take off his boots and sleep in his wool stuffed bed. The mere thought of the soft mat was enough to make him yawn. His hand fell to the hilt of his dagger. He had to stay alert.
The sound of water trickling over rocks came from the trees up ahead.
“Hear that?” he asked.
Jennie paused before answering. “It sounds like a stream.”
“It means we’re close.”
Jennie sighed audibly. “Thank goodness. I don’t know how much more my feet can take. It feels like I walked a mile across hot cinders.”
He stepped onto a fallen tree. It spanned the width of the creek, creating a bridge over the flowing water below. Reaching down, he offered his hand to Jennie. Her skin was soft as bird feathers, and a little scratchy like them too.
But her fingers were stiff as ice. The night’s chill was setting in. If he had gloves on him, he would’ve offered them to her without hesitation. But all he had were the clothes he wore and his dagger.
“Just another mile,” Ethan reassured her.
She flicked a smile at him. As weary as she was, she kept going. He admired that about her. On the other side of the tree bridge, she hopped down. She landed gracefully but whimpered with the impact. He knew that had to hurt her feet.
As they climbed the sloping hill, the ground transitioned from untamed wild to a well-traveled path. Ethan caught a whiff of meat cooking. Venison. His stomach growled loudly. He flexed his abs, trying to quiet the rumblings.
Over the last three days, they had eaten the provisions Jennie brought from the Commune. While the apples, dry bread, and cured meats kept them going, he craved a proper stew. His empty stomach churned with hunger.
“Do you want something to eat?” Jennie reached her hand into her bag. She took out an apple and offered it to him.
More than anything, he wanted a piping hot bowl of stew to warm him from the inside out. But not wanting to offend Jennie, he took the apple.
“Thanks,” he bit into the fruit. It was crisp and sweet. He wanted to save as much room as he could for a hearty meal, but his stomach thanked him for the apple. He finished and tossed the core into the woods. One of the forest critters would find it and enjoy a delicious snack.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Ethan asked.
She didn’t have an apple along with him. Come to think of it, she hadn’t eaten much since they left the Commune.
“That was the last of our food,” she said.
The apple turned sour in Ethan’s stomach. He assumed she had an ample supply of apples and dried meats in her bag. He felt awful eating the last of their provisions.
“You should have told me. I would have gladly let you have the last apple.”
“It’s all right. You said we’d be there soon, anyway. I’ll eat something when we get there. Besides, you need to keep up your strength in case another lemeron attacks us.”
Ethan stopped at the familiar clearing in the forest. He turned and took Jennie’s hands in his.
“You know I would sacrifice anything for you. Even my last meal.”
The apple danced in his stomach. His friend, Tulsi, always called the sensation butterflies. She said she always got butterflies in her stomach when she was nervous or excited.
Ethan was definitely not nervous. Being with Jennie thrilled him. He had never known anyone as brave or kind as her. He never wanted to let her go.
A gust of frigid wind rushed through the trees. Jennie shivered in his arms. As much as he wanted to continue embracing her, he didn’t want her to freeze. Ethan cupped her cut cheek in his hand and broke off the kiss. She nuzzled against his palm.
I would do anything for you.
“Come on, let’s get you inside so you can warm up.” He took her by the hand and lead her past the clearing. “We’re almost there.”
It would be nice introducing her to his friends. And he got to bring her home to meet his father. There were those butterflies again. Ethan wondered what he would think of Jennie. He hoped his father would approve of her.
Of course he would. What’s not to approve of? He reassured himself.
A quail called from the trees above. Ethan smiled. Quails lived on the ground, not in the trees, but it was the call of home. His people would whistle a quail call when they saw someone coming or going. It was their way of acknowledging the traveler - usually a hunter or ranger - was safe. From the trees, the scouts could scan the forest for lemeron threats.
The quail whistle rang out again. A rope ladder dropped from a tree beside him.
“Welcome to my home,” Ethan said. “Welcome to Arborville.”
Fourteen
Jennie
“I don’t see any buildings,” Jennie said, “only trees.”
Ethan chuckled. “You’re so used to keeping your eyes on the ground. Look up.”
She craned her head back and gasped.
Above them, houses were built around the tree trunks, their floors supported by the tree’s branches. Suspension bridges made of rope and wood planks connected the houses. It was like a giant spider web made of wooden bridges spanning as far as the eye could see. Arborville was an entire village in the trees.
“The bridges are essentially our version of roads,” Ethan explained. “They link our homes and shops together. We can travel without setting foot on the ground. It’s safer in the tree canopy. Any lemerons passing by remain unaware of our presence. And if they do become aware, they can’t climb, so we’re safe.”
“It’s amazing,” Jennie said. “Who built all this?”
Ethan scrunched up his face. “I don’t know who had the idea to build the first treehouses. They’ve always been here as far as I know. When the older houses have wood that starts to rot, we replace the planks with newer wood. Some of the oldest treehouses have been rebuilt multiple times, one board at a time.”
Ethan pointed ahead of them.
“Over there is where the newer houses are. As our population grows, we build new houses in the outer trees. When the floor is finished, we build a bridge to connect it with the rest of Arborville.”
“Do you help build the houses?”
“Well, I don’t. Not exactly. I’ve helped with repairs from time to time, but I usually spend my days hunting and scouting.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s kind of like in the Commune, we all have our specialties.”
Jennie gazed up at Arborville. She noticed a second level of houses above the ones lower to the ground. She squinted, trying to see better in the fading light of dusk. Around some larger trees, it looked like there was a third level of buildings even higher up.
“You build up as well as out?” she asked.
“Yes. Some trees aren’t strong enough to support so many structures, so we just build what we can and where we can.”
“This is amazing,” Jennie said.
“It’s even more incredible from higher up,” Ethan stepped next to a nearby tree. “Come on, let me show you.”
Beside him, hanging from the platform above, was a ladder. It was made up of two long segments of rope with narrow wood planks tied between them. The rope was frayed in places where presumably years of use took its toll.
“After you,” he said.
She placed a tentative hand on the ladder. It swayed from her touch. She bit her lower lip, forgetting it was still healing. Putting her foot on a plank, she shifted her weight off the ground. The ropes trembled as much as she did.
She much preferred the solid wood ladder in her barn. She climbed up and down it for years. But it never moved like this one. Placing a foot on the next rung, her weight shifted, and the ladder pushed away from her.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she cried out.
“You can do it.” Ethan held the rope on either side of her. “Let me help.”
His steadying grip made it easier. Jennie wanted to get this over with. She longed for a chair to sit and a stool to prop up her feet. Taking a deep breath, she climbed.
One rung after another, up she went. When she reached the top, someone extended a hand to her. She took it blindly.
Their palm was callused and rough, and their grip strong. She stepped onto a solid platform and pressed her back against the tree trunk jutting out from the middle of it.
“Thank you,” she said to the stranger.
He was short with broad shoulders and a bald head. His brown tunic and pants made him look like a walking tree stump. Something about his appearance reminded her of Sash. Only he was a lot shorter, and smile lines etched his face.
“Welcome. It’s not often we see a fresh face around here. I’m Chaz, one of the sentries. Who might you be?”
“Jennie.” Her voice came out small and squeaky.
She tugged at the ends of her sleeves. First meeting Ethan had been shocking. Now she was in his treetop town. Each person out here was more evidence of the lies the Order fed her people. They said there was no one left alive beyond the wall. Chaz was more proof of their deception.
Ethan swiftly climbed the ladder and joined her on the platform.
“Making friends already, I see. Thanks for the rope, Chaz. It’s just the two of us. Did my…” Ethan’s voice broke off. He cleared his throat before continuing. “Did anyone else arrive?”
He’s asking about Marlene, Jennie realized.
“No, not by my watch. Chester was on lookout last night. Ya might want to check with him.”
Ethan’s face fell.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll do that,” he said.
Jennie’s heart went out to him. She knew what it was like to lose a mother. He never knew his. She abandoned him when he was just a baby.
It was still strange to Jennie that one of the Commune’s Elders, Marlene, was Ethan’s mother. She knew his mother her whole life. It didn’t seem right that Jennie knew more of her than Ethan. But now, he had this opportunity to reunite with her. Jennie wanted to help see it through for his sake. She lost a mother; it felt right to help Ethan find his.
“Come on, Jennie, let’s get some warmth and food before we track down Chester.”
Ethan’s eyes glistened with tears in the fading light. He turned away and hurried off.
She glanced from Chaz to Ethan and back to Chaz. He scrunched his face in confusion, as though wondering if he said something wrong.
“It’s been a long and dangerous journey. We both could use some rest. Thanks again for your help.”
She rushed after Ethan, the suspension bridge bouncing underfoot. She held on to the rope railing to keep her balance.
“Anytime,” Chaz called after her.
Ethan rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Without looking at her, he said, “I’m sorry about that. It’s just -- it’s just a lot to come to terms with. I still don’t know how to deal with the idea of meeting the woman who left me for dead in the woods.”
&
nbsp; “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize to me. This isn’t an easy thing to do. Especially not after the past few days we’ve had.”
He lowered his head. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just eat and get some sleep. We’ll worry about it tomorrow.”
Ethan walked on, taking one suspension bridge after another. He stopped at a treehouse grander than any of the others Jennie saw. The tree they built it around was thicker and taller than any others nearby. At two stories tall, the building was massive. Her entire house could fit inside this one at least four times. Granted, her house was small. Something delicious was cooking inside. The smell wafted out through the cracked door.
Her stomach growled.
“This is our main hall. We should find some food in here.”
Ethan held the door open for Jennie. Tentatively, she stepped inside the round building. It was bright and warm with woven rugs covering the floor. Chairs and tables were arranged around the room in various seating arrangements. A staircase leading to the second story spiraled around the thick tree trunk in the middle of the room. An old woman stirred something in a cauldron placed over a fire.
It was amazing they could have a fire inside a structure made entirely of wood. But they had built a proper stone hearth and fireplace along the outside wall of the treehouse. Jennie took a step closer to the woman. She looked up. The wrinkles in her face became more pronounced as she flashed a toothless smile.
“Hello there, dear. Have you come for a late supper?” The old woman asked in a crackling voice.
Jennie peered into the pot. Mouthwatering chunks of meat and vegetables floated in a thick broth. She licked her lips. She wanted to eat whatever this woman was cooking, but she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to. Glancing over her shoulder at Ethan, he nodded, letting her know it was okay.
“Yes, please,” Jennie said.
“Good. The stew is perfect. Any longer over the fire and the potatoes will turn to mush,” she smacked her lips. “Although, that works for me just fine.”
