The Changelings (War of the Fae: Book 1) (34 page)

I wiped my face off with my sleeve for the umpteenth time and tried to clear my gooey throat.
 
"A-
hem
... so, what? ... Is this your tough love speech?"

"Yeah.
 
How am I doing?"

"Too fucking good," I said, letting out a half laugh, half sob.

Tony put his arms around me again, squeezing really hard.
 
"We're gonna get through this, you'll see.
 
Just hold it together for a little while longer."

I nodded my head into his shoulder.
 
I was going to hold it together for just a while longer, alright – until I saw Dardennes again.
 
Then I was going to unleash on his sorry ass.
 
He was never going to know what hit him.

***

We went to sleep that night with a powerful, and I hoped, very clear request for protection sent out to The Green.
 
My dreams were filled with Becky looking at me, her face full of desperation as the water rose up over her head.
 
I know I called out to her in my sleep because at some point in the night I remember Tony shushing me and then lying down to sleep right next to me.

I woke up the next morning once again covered in leaves.
 
I was super warm because I had not only Tony next to me, but also at some point Spike had come and joined the party; I was sandwiched between the two of them.
 
On another day in another place, this might have been very, very interesting, but not today.

Once I realized where I was, I sat up quickly.
 
I couldn't help but let a tiny piece of me wish Becky would be there in a pile of wet clothes sleeping at my feet.
 
But she wasn't.
 
I didn't even want to think of her spending the rest of eternity in the depths of that miserable lake.

I stood up and started doing jumping jacks to clear my mind of those horrible images.
 
Then I searched around desperately for a semi-private spot to do my business.
 

"Hey, guys, I'll be right back ... gotta go pee."

I disappeared around some trees, going as fast as I could.
 
I got back in time to see zippers going up.
 
Apparently, the guys didn't worry about hiding to do their thing.
 
Lucky jerks.

I pulled out and ate the remaining food from my pack and swallowed the last of my water.
 
"Well, we'd better find this last waypoint today, because I'm outta grub."
 
I stuffed the wrappers back in my bag and then tried to work my fingers through my tangled hair.
 
I gave up and put it back into a ponytail with my rubber band.

Finn had been carrying Becky's bag along with his.
 
He took the time to go through it, moving its contents into his.
 
"Becky didn't have much left herself.
 
We can share it later."

The thought of eating her food depressed the shit out of me.
 
And the day had started out so well ...

Chase walked to the base of a tree, looking up its trunk to the branches above.

"What's up, Chase?" asked Spike.

He responded, giving one of the longest replies I'd heard him give so far. "I'm not sure which direction to go."
 

I stood up.
 
Might as well make myself useful.
 
"I'll go up and see."

Chase backed away from the tree; Finn and Spike watched with rapt attention.
 
This was new for them.
 
They knew I was going to do something with the tree, but they didn't understand exactly what.
 
Tony realized what was coming, so he backed up even farther.

I rested my hand on the trunk and made my connection, sending my images out to The Green.
 
The branches started moving in response to my requests.
 
I stepped onto the nearest one, steadying myself before reaching for the next.
 
The only sounds I heard were the swishing of the branches and the creaks and groans of the wood as the tree strained to do my bidding.
 
The guys were totally silent, watching in awe as I was hoisted up to the higher levels.

I soon reached the top and was happy to see that the last waypoint appeared to be less than a day's travel from here, heading due south.
 
I tried to get a feel for the forest in between here and there, but it was impossible.
 
The only thing I could see was that it was dark.
 
Very dark.
 
The trees were denser there, tighter together.
 
They appeared almost black.
 
The waypoint was in the dead center.
 
I almost turned to go down, but then I looked again.
 
Something wasn't right; but what was it?
 
I looked at the forest around the waypoint.
 
Nothing was happening.
 
It was totally still.

Wait a minute ...
 
That
was the problem – it was
too
still.
 
The forest around us and that farther away from the fourth waypoint moved ever so slightly with the wind, an occasional bird bursting in flight through the canopy only to glide and float back down into it somewhere else.
 
Not so, for the section of forest we would be entering soon.
 
I looked for a while longer, but nothing changed.
 
That forest was utterly still – frozen in place but without ice.
 
I got a bad feeling about it.
 
I climbed down carefully, ready to relate what I'd seen to the guys.

I explained my concerns to them and I could see from their expressions that they shared them.
 
"We need to go in ready for anything," I said.
 
"I have a feeling that whatever's in there will make the whore in the lake look like our fairy friggin' godmother."
 
Using the W-word to describe the thing that killed Becky made me feel just a tiny bit better.
 
I only used
that
word when it was absolutely necessary – and this was one of those times.
 
I looked out in the direction of the water.
 
Lake whore, lake whore, lake whore!

We started walking due south.
 
It wasn't long before we were in the darker forest.
 
We could tell the difference just by looking around us.
 
The forest wasn't green anymore.
 
The tree trunks looked black and gray instead of brown.
 
The leaves were faded out husks, none of them fully green.
 
The ground beneath our feet crunched, being dry and brittle instead of spongy like we were used to from the other parts of the forest.
 
There were no normal sounds here.
 
The birds, if they were here at all, were sleeping.
 
Or dead.
 

I moved closer to Tony who was already walking next to me.
 
I took his hand and he didn't even blink.
 
He was probably as freaked out as I was.

We made our way slowly through the forest, trying to make as little noise as possible.
 
Occasionally, one of our steps would snap a twig, and there was always a bit of crunching as the dry, dead leaves crumbled beneath our feet.
 
After a few hours of our trekking, we heard another distinct sound – my stomach.
 
It started growling loudly.
 
Spike turned around and smiled at me.
 
"Anyone up for some lunch, by any chance?"

I smiled, embarrassed.
 
Stupid stomach.
 
I didn't have any food left.

Finn dropped back to walk next to me.
 
He pulled some crackers out of his bag, handing them to me wordlessly.
 
One of Becky's flags fell out and onto the ground.
 
The food was Becky's, I could tell from the look on his face and how he was trying to act all casual.
 
I bent down and took her flag, shoving it in my pocket.

Part of me wanted to refuse the food, but I was so hungry, I couldn't.
 
And I knew that if it were me in the lake, I wouldn't want Becky to starve when she could eat my crackers.
 
I took them and tore open the wrapper.
 
They were dry, but they did the trick.
 
I shoved the wrapper in my bag and kept on walking.
 

The others, in turn, took things out of their bags and ate as we walked.
 
A bottle of water got passed around and I took a sip.
 
It tasted stale.
 
I couldn't wait to have a nice, ice-cold soda when we got back.
 
I was never much of a soda drinker before, but I would have killed for one right then, especially if it was Dardennes or Ivar standing between me and the bubbly beverage.

I smiled as I thought about that – stabbing one of them with my stick and then causally walking over and taking a nice, long drink from an ice-cold glass.
 
I think this hunt was making me a little more primal than I used to be.
 
I wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
 
My thoughts were interrupted by Chase stopping up ahead.
 
We gathered around him to see what was going on.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I think we need another bird's-eye view," said Chase, looking around the forest.
 
He didn't look happy.

"Okay, no problem.
 
You look worried about something," I said, searching his face for clues about what he was thinking.
 
I had to do that a lot with Chase because he so rarely expressed himself.
 
But looking at him now I got nothing, other than concern.
 
He didn't respond to my comment.

I walked over to a tree that looked like a good candidate.
 
I placed my hands on the trunk to make a connection.
 
I inhaled sharply, causing the others to look over.
 
I jerked my hands away, shaking them off and rubbing them on my jeans.
 

Tony came over to see what I was doing.
 
"What's up?"

"I'm not sure.
 
I was going to talk to this tree, but something weird's going on."

"Here, let me do it with you," said Tony, putting his hands on the tree.
 
He didn't pull his hands away, he just waited for me to start hugging.

I stepped over, putting my hands on his and the trunk.
 
Immediately, I felt the same sensation – a sharp, tingling, coldness ... an emptiness.
 
After the joy and positive energy that came from The Green, this sensation was especially unwelcome.
 
It was like an abomination of the beautiful tree communication that I had quickly grown to love and expect from the forest.

Tony pulled his hands away, a stricken look on his face.
 
"That was
awful.
"

"I know," I whispered.
 
"I don't know what's happening.
 
I don't think I can communicate with this tree."
 
I looked around.
 
"Any of them."

The others walked over.
 
"Something wrong?" asked Finn.

"Yeah, the trees here are messed up," said Tony.

I shook my head, very sad for some reason.
 
My despondency reminded me of Becky.
 
Why did everything have to suck so much right now?
 
"I can't talk to them.
 
There's something wrong with this part of the forest.
 
It's not dead, it's ... hurt.
 
It's been blackened.
 
Something ... or someone, has nearly killed it."

"How can you kill a forest?" asked Spike.

"I have no idea.
 
I just know that when I put my hands on that tree, I got some very unhappy vibes.
 
The trees aren't the source of it.
 
They're merely communicating what is all over this area – in the ground, in the living things ... maybe even in the things that aren't quite living."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" asked Spike, looking a little nervous.

"I don't know.
 
Really, I don't.
 
I just get sensations and feelings from the trees, and that's the only way I can describe what was there in my mind.
 
There are things here, I think, that aren't quite alive and aren't quite dead.
 
And they are not nice things, if the pain I'm getting from the trees is any indication."

Tony had been quiet, thinking to himself.
 
He glanced up at all of us and then around at the nearby trees.
 
I saw a momentary look of panic spread across his face.

"Out with it, Tones; what's on your mind?"

He reached up and scratched his head – a dead giveaway that he's trying to avoid saying something.

"Say whatever it is that you're thinking or I'll make you touch that tree again."
 
We didn't have time to mess around with hurt feelings.
 
I was prepared for Tony to say something I wasn't going to like.

"It's just ... I'm worried that your tree whispering isn't working.
 
The last few confrontations we've had – all of them, actually – kind of went our way because of your help from the trees and stuff.
 
Without them, I'm not sure we would have made it this far."