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“How strange,” she said. “The water’s retreated.”

Taking Liam on her hip, she ventured onto the lakebed, treading slowly on the rocky bottom. When at last she felt the cold water lapping at her feet, as she had those years before, she’d come forward nearly thirty feet. Minnow Lake had shrunk to the size of a pond. Its majestic trees stood sentinel over naught but bare rocks.

Shallah lowered Liam to the ground and crouched down beside him, the hem of her kirtle hanging into the water. Once upon a time she would have been wet up to her waist standing on this very spot.

“I suppose you had it right,” she said. “There wasn’t any danger after all.”

She cupped a handful of water and let it trickle through her fingers. Though she tried not to show it, she was heartbroken. All the hope and joy of the morning blew away like so much dust as she sat on the cold lake bottom. Why had this happened now, just when she needed the lake’s comfort more than ever? What did that mean for the journey ahead? She felt as though she’d come to a friend’s door only to find an enemy lying in wait.

As the water was tepid and shallow, they didn’t bathe in it as she’d planned. Instead, they sat on its former shore, in the shadow of the trees. Liam laid his head on Shallah’s knee and began to doze, while she wondered quietly why those she loved most always left her alone.

“I miss you,” she said sadly.

Her voice echoed forlornly across the empty lake.

Chapter Seven

On the third day much of the path lay uphill. It was past midday when Shallah and Liam finally arrived at the fork in the road and stopped for their meal. They sat in the trees to the right of the northern path, using a cedar log as a bench. Shallah was glad to have her satchel off, for it had begun to pull at her as though it were full of rocks. Her body ached from it.

It had been a strange morning.

She was awoken by a hard kick to her side. Liam was thrashing his arms and legs in his sleep, his undertunic twisted around his body. His hair was soaked with sweat and his breath came in quick panting bursts. It sounded like he was suffocating. She tried her best to wake him gently, but nothing worked. When she called his name softly and stroked his cheek, he turned his head away. When she reached for him he clawed at her, nearly drawing blood. When she shook him, he kicked.

In the end, she was forced to slap him in the face and he jerked out of sleep, flinging the blankets from his body. He wheeled on her, full of fright, and she had to hold his wrists to stop him from running off.

“Don’t you know me, Liam?” she asked. “It’s me, Shallah. I won’t hurt you. There’s nothing to fear.”

It took a while to make him believe her.

The odd happenings of the day didn’t end there. Almost as soon as they’d gotten out of sight of the lake, the air began to thicken with humidity, unusual for that time of year, and a clammy wetness settled on their faces and hands. The canopy fog came down to greet them, and water dripped from the tree branches in punishing drops. They trudged up the path with bowed heads, the wood around them quiet as death, and though Shallah couldn’t see the mist that drifted around them like wispy ghosts, she began to feel agitated all the same.

The silence was unnerving. It seemed to speak of hidden dangers. The humid air felt like the breath of some awful fiend sneaking up at their backs. Shallah felt a tingling in her legs, a sudden eagerness to run. She carried Liam in her arms out of fear that if she let him down for a moment he would be snatched away.

As the day wore on, the minutes dripping by, Shallah halted in her steps several times, listening. Once she distinctly heard a snarl in the distance followed by a high-pitched whine. There could be no mistake; they were being tracked.

As they ate, she still sensed them coming. They traveled in a pack, a big one, it seemed. But they were still a ways off, and as she rested her tired feet among the shrubs, she felt a calm settling in her for the first time that day. She knew the fog was lifting, for some warmth had crept back into the air. She took Liam in her lap and together they listened to the song of a bird she didn’t recognize, perhaps a wren. It was the first sign of life they’d found in these trees, and they were both glad of the company.

Suddenly, the path ahead seemed to hold much promise. Already the air smelled sweeter, and Shallah could feel herself growing stronger. The wind in the branches, though it pulled at her hair, was a welcome release from the suffocating silence. Even the creatures that followed them seemed less menacing now that she’d had a moment to reflect on it. They were only animals after all, she thought to herself. She could beat them off if it came to it.

Once they were ready to be off again, her attitude had changed entirely, and she spoke brightly to Liam, eager to move on. But the little boy wasn’t so easily cleansed. As she led the way with a quick step, Liam trailed behind, glancing back at the dark woods they’d passed through.

They fell into sleep early that day, laying their blankets out at the foot of a small hill. They’d covered a good stretch of the path in this new wood and Shallah felt their way bending west, around the steeper hills. Once they’d rounded those hills her knowledge of their route would be scanty at best, which should have filled her with worry, but instead she felt serene. The creatures tracking them were now all but forgotten.

As night fell, Shallah was sleeping peacefully, snuggling Liam close.

It seemed like no more than moment had passed when she was rushed awake by the sound of a strange voice. She felt for Liam in the covers beside her but couldn’t find him. Turning carefully onto her stomach, she lay tense, listening for more. Soon, she heard the voice again. It was an old woman’s voice.

“Well, hello there,” it said. “Have you lost your way?”

At first Shallah thought the woman was speaking to her, then realized she had to be addressing Liam.

“I know these parts better than any around, I’d say,” the woman said. “Yes, indeed. Lived here all my life, I have. Bore children and had them grow up and leave me, though none were quite as sweet looking as you, my child. Such lovely dark skin. My, how I would love to keep you. Could use some company out here in the lonely forest. Are you all on your own?”

Shallah rose to her feet, her shift falling loosely to her ankles. “I am with him,” she said. Though she tried to sound firm, her words came out in a croak.

Liam came to her side and took her hand. She gripped it tightly.

“Oh, you did give me a start,” the woman said. “Well, do come here and let me have a look at you. My sight isn’t quite what it used to be.”

Shallah took a few steps forward, but found that in her rush to come to Liam’s aid she’d disoriented herself. She couldn’t picture the way before her. Seeing her distress, the old woman came to meet her.

“Have you no sight, my dear?” the woman asked.

“None at all,” Shallah replied.

The old woman looked down at Liam. A ray of sunlight fell through the web of boughs above, dappling his cheeks, and his tunic was wrinkled from sleep. He scratched at the back of his head and gazed back at her. The old woman watched him for a long moment, then said, “Ah,”as though she’d just recalled something.

“Come with me,” she said to them both.

She led the pair to her home. It lay to the south, in a portion of the forest so dense that to manoeuvre through it one had to know one’s way instinctually. Though Shallah knew they were leaving the path behind and following a stranger into a foreign part of the wood, she felt no concern. In fact, as they delved ever deeper into the trees, a feeling of intrinsic trust bubbled up from her core, and she felt quite positive there was nothing to fear. The old woman seemed a familiar friend, one she must have forgotten, but was glad to find again. She was glad to be led and hoped there would be warm food.

As they walked, the old woman spoke about her life in the forest and her husband, Jerome, god bless his soul, who’d passed away years before. She wasn’t more than a foot taller than Liam, but she was sprightly for her age. She wore a green man’s tunic tied at the waist with a length of woven reeds. The grey kerchief on her head bobbed before Liam as she hopped over logs and small bushes, rushing along as though they were all late for some fantastic feast. Liam watched in fascination as she pulled ahead of them. She moved so quickly that at times she seemed to be floating.

Her house was a structure of wattle and daub, and might have resembled the homes of Trallee if it hadn’t been nearly overcome by the hemlock tress surrounding it. The trees were packed so densely that it was difficult to discern the house at all. Liam stared in amazement as the old woman reached through the branches and pulled open a creaking door. It was as though she’d cracked open the forest itself.

Shallah had to stoop to get through the doorway, for the entire house had been built to suit the old woman’s size. The stool she offered them by the hearth was also tiny and Shallah sat on the dirt floor rather than break it. Liam crouched by her side, his mouth agape.

The hemlocks hadn’t only conquered the house’s outer walls, but those within as well. They grew against the wooden frame, their roots ribbing the floor, their branches creating a screen to mask the windows. The roof couldn’t be seen at all for the trees had created their own canopy. The old woman’s pallet lay on a hammock of branches, and drying herbs hung in bunches from the boughs by the hearth. The floor was strewn with cones. Taking one of them in her hand, Shallah had the odd sensation of being both indoors and outdoors at once.

The old woman appeared out of the darkness at the far end of the room, pushing her way through the branches of the trees sprouting in the middle of the floor. She handed them each a hunk of bread and a wooden cup of some sweet liquid Shallah had never tasted before. Though the brew was cold, it warmed her cheeks. It tasted faintly of rain.

“Isn’t this part of the forest wonderful?” the old woman said as she took a seat on the other side of the fire. She too was drinking the strange liquid, but her cup was far larger and the wood intricately carved, her fingers covering what might have been a face.

“It’s something in the air, isn’t it? A certain sweetness?” the woman continued.

Shallah found herself agreeing unconsciously, nodding her head although she hadn’t heard the question. It seemed that whatever the old woman said must be right.

“Yes, it can be bewitching,” the woman said, as though supporting a claim Shallah had made. “I was caught up in its enchantment long ago, and it’s kept me here. Its will is strong.”

Shallah felt her mind clouding over. Her head began to feel extremely heavy, and yet light at the same time. The woman’s voice seemed very far away.

“Don’t concern yourself,” the woman said. “Once you’ve rounded the hills your mind will clear. I would have kept you here with me, to be my company, oh yes. But now I see this cannot be. I didn’t realize at first who you were. I’ve been expecting you for so long, so long.”

Liam gazed intently at the old woman as she spoke. He kept blinking at her and squinting his eyes, as though he couldn’t see her properly in the flickering light.

“But how could you have been expecting us?” Shallah asked in slow confusion.

“My mother told me the story when I was a little girl, oh so long ago. I’d nearly forgotten. The story of the blind girl and the dark-skinned child; the child of the light and the woman who would guide him.”

“A story?” Shallah felt as though her ears were filled with wool. She had to strain to make out the words.

“You are traveling far, are you not?” the old woman said.

“Very far,” Shallah replied.

“And there is danger ahead.” The old woman looked off to the north.

“No,” Shallah said sleepily. “Behind.”

To this the old woman said nothing, only smiled knowingly.

“You will not be hindered. You’ll find your way in the end. He will guide you.”

“Who will?”

“The child,” the old woman said simply, gesturing to Liam. Shallah tightened her hold on him, as though the old woman’s words implied some threat. Still frowning at the old woman’s face, Liam seemed not to have heard.

“How could he?” Shallah said. “He’s only a boy.”

“Oh that’s of no matter,” the old woman said gaily. “Age is of no consequence. He will save us.” She beckoned Liam to her. The boy didn’t move, but a moment later he jerked and his eyes widened. He stared at the old woman as though stunned. Across the hearth, she smiled then let her hand fall into her lap. “It was foretold,” she said.

A sharp gust of wind shook the house, the hemlock branches waving above their heads. Liam climbed into Shallah’s lap, turning his face from the old woman, though out of the corner of his eye he watched her still. He watched her hands.

“Foretold?” Shallah said.

“He will lead us to safety,” the old woman said.

“What was foretold?” Shallah asked, her brow creasing. It seemed the woman was purposely thwarting her by speaking in such vague terms. Why couldn’t she speak plainly?

“There were three,” the old woman said. “My mother received them. A great woman my mother was, both wise and gay at once. The forest wept when she perished. She received them individually, in a bolt of light. Struck her down, they did, brought her to her knees. Three times this happened, in the course of one day – three times she fell. And she wasn’t a young woman, oh no. She was already quite elderly, nearly ready to move on. But perhaps it had to be so. The old are closer to the other world, some already partly there, sharing both worlds at once.”

The old woman nodded sagely.

“She told no one for many years, for even her greatest friends didn’t know her true nature, and wouldn’t have understood. It was only as she lay dying and the air was full of the trees’ grief that she gave the knowledge over to me. And I still only a girl, for I’d come to her so late in life, a miracle child they’d called me. She told me that you would come one day, and that I should tell you what you needed to know. I have been waiting so very long.”

For a moment the old woman held her head as though to demonstrate the hardship of having to wait so very long. But as Shallah couldn’t see and Liam was regarding her warily, her gesture had no effect. She peeked tentatively at the two of them through her gnarled fingers.