Aster Wood and the Blackburn Son (2 page)

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Authors: J B Cantwell

Tags: #Children's Books, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy & Magic, #Science Fiction, #Children's eBooks, #Science Fiction; Fantasy & Scary Stories, #Coming of Age, #Scary Stories

BOOK: Aster Wood and the Blackburn Son
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Then slowly, mercilessly, as if savoring my last moment, he lowered his hand over my eyes. And all was black.
 

I startled awake, jumping to my feet, adrenaline coursing through me.
 

Where was he? I spun around and around, waiting for him to attack from somewhere just out of sight. I searched the trees, but only the tiny birds nesting above looked down at me as they hopped along the branches, preparing for the morning.

Just a dream.

I stood panting. I shivered in the chill of the sweat that had broken out across my skin. It had seemed so real. I shuffled over to a boulder and slumped against it, trying to catch my breath.
 

The clearing, so dark and terrifying in my dream, was now bright. The first rays of sun broke through the trees, and I shifted over to sit in the beam.
 

Who was that man? I shuddered as I remembered Almara beneath the water, his hair floating around him as if caught in a hurricane. Was the dark man after me now? Following me? Hunting me? I hadn’t seen a single person since leaving the mountaintop, not a traveler, not a villager, no one. I shook my head, trying to rid it of his face staring down at me. It wasn’t real. He wasn’t here.
 

I was just as alone as I had been yesterday.
 

The fire sat, cold and lifeless, the pot beside it. I got up and retrieved it, bringing it back to my sunny spot to eat. Half the stew still remained, cold and lumpy now, but still wonderful compared to anything else I had tasted in recent days. I savored every bite as I watched the sun begin its long trek across the sky. As I slowly filled my stomach, the threatening dream faded away.

When the pot was empty, and I had all but licked it clean, I finally rose to gather my things. Before I set off, I paused, looking back at the small campsite that had sustained me. The owner of the meal had never returned. I left the empty pot by the fire pit, wishing I had something more I could offer in gratitude. But, with nothing else I to leave, I could only send a silent thank you up into the trees. I hoped that, wherever he was, he would be granted respite from his troubles. The way that his meal had given me respite from the gnawing hunger that had plagued me.
 

Maybe it was just the fact that I had a full stomach, but I felt more awake than I had in a while. For so many days I had been stumbling around in a haze, not caring about where I was or where I was going. But today my feet walked with a purpose. I soon became impatient. I wanted to
move
. I wanted to
get
somewhere. I had been buried inside this forest for too long. I felt an itch growing inside my chest, and I absently ran my fingers over Kiron’s link. Without realizing I had stopped, I found myself standing still, mid-stride, staring at the fat little rock.
 

I could use it now. I still remembered the command.
Forasha.
Jade and I had used this link once before, and while the jump had been uncomfortable, it had worked as predicted.
 

My heart skipped in my chest, and I was suddenly excited to see where a jump would take me. I hastily pointed the rock in my general direction of travel, vaguely hoping that I didn’t land stuck inside a boulder or tree. I spoke the command.
 

Squeezing and twisting, my body bent into the jump. I would have yelped out in pain, but before the cry even made it to my lips, I had already landed. Still in the forest, the low sound of trickling water came to me. I was on all fours, squeezing the dust between my fingers as my muscles released from clenching.
 

I stood up, excited by the change in my surroundings. More determined now, I pointed the link again. This time, the pain was less. I tightened every muscle in my body before giving the command, and when I landed moments later, it only took a few seconds for me to recover. A thick bed of pine needles carpeted the ground all around me. I jumped again. And again. For eight jumps, nine, ten, too many to count, the forest held. I hungered for sky and sun, and tendrils of claustrophobia threatened me each time I landed. These trees seemed to have no end. Worry began to eat at me, and my chest tightened uncomfortably. I wanted
out
.

I jumped again and again, growing more frantic each time I landed in the cool shade of the trees.
 

And then, finally, grass.
 

It unfolded before me, dancing in the breeze like great ribbons of fabric spread upon the ground. I let out a heavy sigh of relief, and the panic drained away.

Now we’re talking.

I let the link fall back to my chest and lifted my face to the sun. It seemed I hadn’t felt its warmth for years, and I felt a smile stretch across my cheeks. Beneath my skin, energy pulsed. Ahead, the way was open; no mountain or tree or boulder stood between me and freedom. I tucked the link beneath my shirt. No more jumping today.
 

I broke into a run.

The morning breeze whipped through my hair. Each step I took felt unfamiliar, as if I hadn’t set foot on the ground in ages. But as I picked up speed, my feet seemed to remember their old tricks. My strides increased, my legs moving faster and faster until the world around me blurred. I laughed. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed, and this realization made me laugh harder. It felt so good to be out. To be alone and away from all of the evil I had seen. I had forgotten the feeling that running gave me. I felt joy. And awe. And power. I pushed harder.

Tears, stolen from my eyes by the stinging wind, streamed down my cheeks. I urged my legs to move faster, and they did. I moved so fast that I could barely hear the wind in my ears, barely feel my feet touch the grass.
 

Then suddenly, without warning, an image flashed into my head. Jade’s face, eyes dark, mouth open in a snarl.

My stride faltered. I pushed the thought of her away, shaking my head to rid it of the memory.

And then again, a flash of malice in my mind. Almara clutching at his throat, trying to speak.

I faltered again, almost fell.
 

The images started coming in a rush, raining down inside my head like an avalanche of horror. I slowed, gripping my hands over my heart, sure that it was splitting into two at that very moment.
 

Cadoc’s sadistic snarl.
 

The faces of a hundred prisoners, drawn and gray.

The Torrensai knocking me down inside the Fire Mountains as Almara ran for the ledge.

I wanted to fall. I wanted to hit the ground, burrow into it, hide from the demons that tormented me.

No.

Anger flared in the back of my throat, burning as it mingled with the sobs I was choking on.
 

I didn’t fall. I moved faster and faster. I held nothing back, took no care, and instead I poured my fury into the flight. The tears were no longer from the wind, but I didn’t care. I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t be held down by this anymore, I couldn’t be.
 

NO.

I was pure instinct. My legs moved too fast now for me to control. I was a symphony of movement, no longer able to concentrate on the details, only on the whole. I screamed out my rage as I ran. The burning spread to my chest, my arms, and I gasped for breath. But I didn’t stop.
 

I ran faster.
 

She’s gone.

I pushed body harder, sobbing into the wind.
 

The little girl beneath the mountain. The one who depended on me.

I shouted incoherent, angry protests. And when there was no more breath for me to yell, I simply let my feet pound the grass beneath me.
 

Gone.

I wondered if I would ever see her again.

Finally, after a long, long time, I hit the ground as I tripped over my own, exhausted legs. My body rolled across the grass as it slowed from great speed, dry stalks scraping at my arms and face as I tumbled, finally coming to a stop. I lay on my side, panting and gasping for air, anguish still threatening to close my throat entirely. The air barely made it through my clenched body, and I was forcibly reminded of my asthma attacks back on Earth. Mom would hold me, comfort me as we both waited for the medicine to open my airways again.
 

Breathe slow. Breathe calm.

Blades of grass scratched at my cheeks.
 

Breathe slow. Breathe calm.

Slowly, my throat opened bit by bit. I rolled onto my back.

The sun was bright, and it stung my eyes, but my tears were drying as the air moved in and out of my lungs. Above, puffy white clouds drifted lazily across my view, and I relaxed into the earth as if it were a feather bed. The terrifying images drained away, and my body melted against the ground. My breathing slowed, and my misery trickled out of me like the sweat on my back until I felt nothing but the beating of my heart.
 

And all was quiet.

Around my body, the tall grass rippled. I was hidden deep within it and watched the blades from below as they gently swayed back and forth. I didn’t think anymore. I had run to the point of exhaustion, and now I simply lay there, unmoving, an observer.
 

But I didn’t sleep. For hours I watched the sky from my little pocket, my mind all but blank. The afternoon sun gradually sunk low, then became sunset, and then disappeared into the purple of dusk. And for all that while I thought of nothing but the grass, the clouds, the wind. I wondered, if I listened hard enough, if I could hear the grass grow. Slow and certain, it pushed its way up to the sky from the depths below.

As twilight fell, I rose. I felt as though I had been sleeping for days, and was now just emerging from some illness that had kept me down. I shivered as the heat from the sun disappeared into the night. I looked around at the landscape, choosing a direction.

But I didn’t run. Instead I pulled the link from beneath my shirt and pointed it. Three jumps and the grassland had become dotted with heavy oak trees. In the distance I could just make out the groves clumping together, as if a stream were nearby. My tongue moved over my dry lips, and I started down the hill.
 

I was walking absently, still hazy, when I heard it. Cracking. I froze, listening. For a moment, I couldn’t put my finger on the sound. It was so familiar, somehow, but what was it? From the corner of my eye a flicker of light flashed, and suddenly I understood. I fell to the ground, instantly disappearing into the deep field, grateful for the darkness.
 

Two hundred feet away, behind the cover of the trees,
but no, they weren’t trees
, a fire crackled.
 

I hugged the ground, barely daring to breathe, and peered from between the blades.

Other sounds joined it as night fell in earnest. Grunts of men, clanking of metal, the low snort of a horse. My heart leapt. Long shadows fell from those near the flames. I craned my neck, trying to get a better look, part of me excited at the prospect of finding some companions again.
 

But then I realized what I was looking at.

Those hadn’t been trees clumped together. They had been men.
Thousands
of men. I hadn’t stumbled upon some lone traveler’s campfire.
 

I had stumbled upon an
army
.

CHAPTER THREE

Behind the fear of my frozen body, thoughts raced. Curiosity fought with caution. Fear with loneliness.
 

I
could
get closer.
 

My heart pounded at the thought. But my fingers closed over Kiron’s rock, steadying me. I had an escape if I needed one. I moved forward, my limbs still stiff from panic. On all fours, belly to the ground like a snake, I approached the camp.

“Where’s the meat, boy?” one man bellowed. I kept my head down, not daring to raise it above the tips of the grass.
 

“There is no more,” came a small voice. A kid was there? I lifted my head slightly, trying to see him.

“No more?” the man boomed. Then a smack rang out in the night, and the sound of a body hitting the ground. Several men, unseen to me, chortled loudly. “Well, I guess I’ll take yours then,” the man said.
 

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, my skin prickling. Why was a kid here, in the middle of an army?
 

“When are we gettin’ outta here?” a different voice asked. “I’m sick of sittin’ around doin’ nothin’. I wanna go rip those fools apart!”

Laughter rang out, mixed with the grumblings of others who appeared to hold the same opinion.

“Seriously, Dormir, how much longer?”

“You can shut your mouths, all of ya,” came the first man’s voice, angry now. “It ain’t my place to be talkin’ about the boss’ plans.”

“Well, somebody oughta. He made us promises, all of us.” The crowd grumbled in agreement. “I want the blood he promised!” Several men cheered, followed by a clanking sound as their armored bodies collided. I raised my head higher, too curious to stay low.

A tall, thick man stood up from his seat and slowly began walking around the circle. Dormir. They all fell quiet, their eyes on the ground as he passed. He unsheathed his sword, tapping it against one armored boot with each step he took around the fire.
 

“You’ll have your blood.” His voice was low and dangerous. “You’ll have it when he says it’s time.” He approached one man and stood face to face with him, pushing his chest against him until he was forced to take a step backward.
 

“Yeah, alright, Dormir,” said the man, his voice tinged with fear now. It was the man who had first complained. “Alright, we’ll wait for the boss then.”
 

Dormir stopped moving, and the two stood still, chest to chest. Dormir stared into the other man’s face, but the man’s eyes stayed fixed on the dirt. Then he spoke softly, his words just barely audible over the crackle of the fire.

“Oh, I don’t know that we need to wait for the blood the boss promised,” Dormir said, his voice slippery and smooth. “Do you?” He turned his head towards the men surrounding him, a wicked smile playing on his lips. Several of them looked frightened. But a handful of others could not betray their true reaction to his words; they looked, unmistakably,
hungry
.
 

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