The Whispering Trees (20 page)

“Are you all right?” she asked, hugging him tight.

“Why are the inside of my ears wet?”

“You really don't want to know.”

Kara gave him the brief version of her encounter with Imogen, skimming over the more horrific parts. Taff had been through enough.

“I'm glad that monster took her,” Taff said. “She deserved it.”

“Don't say that.”

“Where's Father?” he asked, his voice still groggy. “Is he in one of the pits too?”

Holding him tight, Kara reminded Taff that their father was lost to them in this world. His body grew slack as he remembered. She felt his tears on the back of her neck but pretended not to.

There was more she wanted to tell him, but Taff's was not the only pit, and the calls of the others could no longer be ignored. Though Kara was almost too tired to stand, she and Taff spent several hours fashioning makeshift ropes from fancy cloaks and robes they found among the other lost things. Not everyone awoke; some had been too long under Imogen's spell to survive the
detachment. Others were angry with Kara and refused to leave their pits, praying for Imogen to return them to their mind worlds. A few people, however, seemed happy to be freed again, and despite their dazed and bewildered states helped Kara and Taff free the others. When Kara asked them what village they had come from they simply bowed their heads and scrambled away, too frightened to speak to this strange girl powerful enough to destroy their captor.

Eventually she gave up asking.

“How many days do you think it's been?” Kara asked Taff. If her brother had been older, perhaps she could have judged time's passing by the length of his beard; his sandy hair seemed as unruly as usual but no longer than she remembered it.

“Just a few days,” Taff said. “For us, that is. But some of the others—I think they've been here for years. Magic must have kept them alive.”

“What was it like for you?”

“Perfect,” Taff muttered.

“It wasn't real.”

“It felt real at the time. But it's getting harder to remember.”

Kara understood what he meant. The false years she had spent in Imogen's world had at first seemed as vivid as any recent experience but were now being supplanted by her real memories, like feeling returning to a limb that had fallen asleep. In time she supposed she might forget the dream world altogether.

“We're back in the real world now,” Kara said. “It's best to forget what happened there.”

“No,” Taff said. “I
want
to remember. I want him back!”

Kara knelt next to her brother. She was still much taller than him, but the height difference was not quite as significant as when she first found the grimoire and their lives changed forever.

He's growing up. Faster than he should be
.

“We'll get him back. Our real father. We'll all be together again.”

“You promise?”

Kara hesitated.
Can I really promise such a thing? What happens if I can't do it? He'll be crushed
.

But in the end she decided that there was no other choice. She would promise this one thing to her brother and either do it or die trying.

“You have my word,” she said.

Taff's upper lip trembled. Kara thought, at first, that he was going to cry, and moved to hug him, but instead he burst into a teasing giggle.

“In my dream,” he said, “you married
Lucas
!”

Kara turned her face away before he could see her blush.

They traveled past the remaining pits and the fog dissipated, revealing fresh water and a field of edible mushrooms. These tasted horrible but restored a little of her energy, though what she really needed was sleep.

“Should we set up camp?” Kara asked. “Or go back and find Mary—”

“Feel this!” Taff shouted, holding his hand as high as he could. “Feel this!”

Kara joined her brother at the edge of the field. There was no need to raise her hand. Not only did she feel the ocean breeze on her face, she smelled it: briny and fresh and so different than the ever-lingering decay of the Thickety.

It smelled like freedom.

“Let's go!” shouted Taff.

They ran toward the scent of the ocean. At first Kara feared it might be some sort of cruel mirage, but the smell was undeniable now, the salty air tickling her nostrils. Kara heard fierce wind unshackled from trees, water clapping upon water.

And then she saw it.

Back in De'Noran, Kara and Lucas had spent many hours staring out across the ocean. Her friend, desperate for news of his lost family, loved discussing what life must be like in the World—and while Kara thought the ocean
view was certainly pleasant, she had never understood her friend's obsession with it. After weeks trapped in the darkness of the Thickety, however, the staggering beauty of such unhindered blueness overwhelmed her.

She wished Lucas were here so she could tell him:
I finally understand now
.

“Mary didn't lie,” Kara said. “This is the way out of the Thickety.”

“Why would she have lied?” Taff asked.

It seemed pointless explaining Watcher's accusation; Kara felt guilty even thinking about it.
How could I have doubted her?
Mary had led them safely across the Thickety, taught Kara how to use her powers, and even given her the key to escaping Imogen.
She's a true friend
.

“I'll race you to the water,” Kara said.

Taff took off, building a solid lead before Kara, her previous exhaustion forgotten, passed him. She leaped into the ocean first, nearly losing her balance when Taff crashed into her a moment later.

The water was icy cold. It felt wonderful.

“Cheater,” Taff said, splashing her. “You're too big.”

“That's not cheating,” she said, splashing him in return. “That's just winning.”

After playing in the water a bit longer they crawled onto the sand and lay out in the sun to dry.

“That was fun,” said Kara, “but unfortunately we can't swim to the World. We need a boat.”

Taff shook his head in disbelief.

“You may be really good at magic, but you're not so great at noticing things.” He pointed at the trees just beyond the beach, where a small canoe lay half covered by weeds. It was battered and ill suited to travel such a long distance but looked as though it might still float.

“Please don't have a giant hole in your bottom,” Taff said, rising to his feet.

Kara wanted nothing more than to take a nap in the sun, but she followed her brother toward the canoe.

“What about Mary?” Taff asked. “I'm worried that if
we leave, Sordyr will punish her.”

“I believe there's enough room for three people in that canoe. You'll just have to convince her to come with us.”

“Why me?”

Kara ruffled his hair. “You're too cute to refuse.”

They stood before the canoe. It was stuck in a tangle of wrapweed but its bottom seemed whole and undamaged. Two thick branches leaned against a tree, their ends flattened into vaguely oar-like shapes.

As though waiting for us
, Kara thought.

Taff began pulling at the wrapweed, attempting to free the canoe, but Kara stilled him with a touch.

“Taff?” she asked. “Didn't Mary say there was supposed to be a
ship
here? Some explorers who came to the Thickety and never returned?”

Taff shrugged. “Maybe they anchored farther out and took the canoe to shore.”

“Then why is the canoe in the forest and not on the beach?”

“In case there's a high tide,” he said. “So it doesn't float away.”

The answers made sense—but something still didn't feel right.

“Help me push this thing into the water,” Taff said, bracing himself behind the canoe. “Actually, toss those oars on top first! We don't want to forget them!”

Kara nodded, her eyes fixed on the motionless canopy. Not a single leaf moved, as if the wind itself had fled. She reached out to the creatures above her, hoping they might have some explanation, but they remained silent.

I don't like this
, Kara thought, grabbing the branches against the tree.
The quicker we get out of here, the better
.

The branches grabbed her back.

Kara struggled to escape, but the supposed oars had formed twig-like fingers that wrapped around her wrists with unyielding strength. Setting her feet in the dirt, Kara yanked backward. Something jerked loose in the tree, and a figure cloaked in pumpkin-orange stepped
into the failing sunlight with branch hands still firmly wrapped around her wrists.

Sordyr.

He slowly rose to his full height, and as she fell within his shadow all the joy Kara had felt at their impending freedom curdled to helplessness. Though Sordyr's face remained concealed within the darkness of his hood she felt his eyes considering her.

“You have done well,
wexari
,” he said, the words crackling through the air like dead leaves. “Defeating Imogen was an impressive display of magic. You are finally ready to play your part.”

“Let her go!” Taff exclaimed as the canoe before him disintegrated into black earth. Unsheathing his wooden sword, he charged the Forest Demon and swung at his back. Sordyr's cloak flicked out like the tongue of a snake and swatted him away.

“Did you really think I would let you escape?” Sordyr asked. “I could have captured you at any time. You must know that.”

“Let Taff go. You don't need him.”

“Who knows? The future is a fickle thing. I just might.”

Kara reached out with her mind and sensed something with three wings and razor-sharp teeth swirling above them.

I need a distraction. Just enough time so we can get to the ocean . . .

As soon as Kara began to build her mind-bridge, however, the creature fled in terror.

“Your magic is powerful,” Sordyr said, “but nowhere near as powerful as their fear of me. They will not help you.”

Then there's no hope
, Kara thought.

Sordyr ran a branched hand across her cheek.

“No,” he said. “There really isn't.”

“Magic is a plague. It must be contained, or the entire World will perish.”

—The Path

Leaf 205, Vein 99

T
he Forest Demon led them past Imogen's now-empty pits to the orchard of lost things. Branchwolves nipped and clawed at one another in a violent display that might have been their version of playing. Kara did not try to reach out to them, nor any of the other animals she felt lingering nearby. She knew it was useless.

Near the remnants of their campfire lay Mary's sack.

“What did you do to her?” Taff asked. “What did you do to Mary?”

“I'm here, my child,” said a soft voice.

Mary stepped out from the shadows of a tree. Though she was no older than forty today, the skin beneath her eyes sagged from lack of sleep. Heedless of the snapping branchwolves between them, Taff ran into her arms.