What I am saying is important to me; otherwise, there’d be no point saying it. One day very soon, I’ll be gone, and it will be too late. So listen, or hand me off to someone who will—I need someone to hear my story—someone to know what I could never tell the people I loved, the people who knew me . . . anyone, really. This is my last chance. Will you stay?
I traced the line of moonlight on the ceiling. The wooden bones of the roof stretched broad shadows across the room. The night air was stuffy and, for some reason, I was restless. I tried to lie very still to not disturb my brother. He got grumpy when someone woke him so rubbing the coarse blanket between my fingers and counting the knots in the stitching was my way to tire myself. It wasn’t working. My mind was still alert. I tilted my head back to look out the window at the moon, which was too bright.
To my surprise, Michael was standing at our window, looking out into the night. He cocked his head and slowly lowered his shoulders, slumping as if falling asleep while standing. His pale skin and dark hair made him a phantom in the moonlight. I flipped to my belly and pulled myself closer to the head of the bed.
“Michael,” I whispered. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t respond. So, I crawled out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cool rough floorboards, and tiptoed up to him to minimize the risk of waking our parents. I pushed the sleeves up on my nightshirt. It was Papa’s, and at only eleven it was like a dress on me that I hoped to grow into one day. Looking into Michael’s eyes, they were distant and glossy.
“Michael.” I pushed on his shoulder.
“Stop that.” He brushed my hand away without breaking his gaze from whatever he was staring at out the window.
“What are you doing?”
“Be quiet, Henry. I’m listening.”
“To what?”
“I said be quiet.”
I strained to hear whatever Michael was listening to, but the only sounds were the village cattle lowing at the sky and a disorderly racket from the pub two roads over. Maybe a bird or two.
“What are you listening to?” I asked again.
“The music.”
“From the pub?”
“No.”
“From where?”
“The hills,” he said. I tried to trace his line of sight. My eyes shifted along an invisible line that landed my gaze on the hills beyond our town. Lights danced on the hilltops, and a sense of foreboding eked its way into my bones. In these hills lay a grove we had been warned about since we were small children. Light on the hills was a sign of misfortune.
“I don’t hear any music.”
“That’s because you talk too much.” Michael started pulling himself into the window frame.
“What are you doing?” I grabbed his arm.
“I’m going to the music.”
“No, Michael, there is no music.”
“Get off.” He shook loose and began lowering himself down the front of the house. I gaped for a moment. It wasn’t like Michael hadn’t snuck out before this way, it happened far too often, but this wasn’t his usual rebellious nighttime outing. Something wasn’t right.
I rushed to pull on some slacks and stuff my feet into my boots. Stopping Michael from leaving hadn’t worked. All that was left was to get him back before our parents noticed we were gone. Tomorrow there would be trouble for both of us if he was caught sneaking out again. Going through the house would wake my parents, as Michael’s early attempts to sneak out proved, so I lowered myself out after him.
Michael was bigger than me at sixteen and I struggled to reach many of the handholds and footholds he had used. Michael had already made it a good way down the street when my boots hit the ground. While rushing to catch up, I tucked my nightshirt into my slacks.
“Michael, you can’t go to the hills.” I protested.
“I don’t want you, Henry,” Michael said.
“I don’t care if you want me or not. We’re going home.” I grabbed his arm and pulled back on him, but he kept pushing forward and pulling me with him.
How did he get so strong? All he did all day was help Papa with the mending nets. It wasn’t easy work, but it wouldn’t make him this strong. I had wrestled with him often enough to know. But then something glinted in his hand and I looked to see an ornate coin clutched in his fingertips. “Where did you get that?”
“I’ve had it.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“Yes, I have.”
“The only way you would get a thing like that is by stealing it.”
My brother turned on me, ripping me off the ground by my shirt collar.
“No one calls me a thief!” I had taken and given my fair share of black eyes with my brother, but now I was terrified by him. His brow furrowed in anger but there was an absence in his eyes I couldn’t explain. It was as if he really were asleep.
“Then where do you get it?” I asked, pushing him away.
“It was a gift.”
“A gift?” I re-tucked my shirt.
“From someone who said I deserved it, and more like it.” He continued walking towards the hillside. I grabbed his sleeve again at the edge of the hills, where the road disappeared into the grass.
“Wait.” As his foot hit the grass, a buzz rushed through me. It ran from my hand on his sleeve through every inch of me. Then everything changed.
Strange creatures I had never seen before overran the hills, milling about in grass that turned a greyish blue under the moonlight. They were a variety of shapes and sizes and looked as though someone had taken a bucket of different toy parts and glued them together at random. They were slithering things, bouncing things, striding things that milled about on their bellies or limbs that dug into the soft sod of the hillside. As their chilling eyes turned on us, their otherworldly gaze chased the air right out of me. If the creatures had mouths, they stretched into sinister smiles over the creatures’ alien faces upon noticing us.
One of the creatures that looked like an old hacked-off stump slithered toward us on roots like snakes. Its large golden eyes fixed on us. It came to our toes and reached its twig-like arm up towards Michael. Its knotted finger touched the coin in his hand, and Michael smiled at it as if he knew what was going on. On the other hand, I couldn’t suck in enough air; everything was too real and too wrong. It didn’t make any sense, like old stories spinning to life off my mother’s tongue. Maybe I was the one dreaming.
I heard a crackling noise behind me and, out of nothing, a boy close to my brother’s age came sauntering over. He was dressed in rich clothing and flipped a twisted dagger-shaped scale in his hand. Whatever creature that scale belonged to was larger than anything I would ever want to meet.
He had the same eerie calm smile as Michael. Gold accented his brown skin around the eyes, so he wasn’t just pretending to be wealthy. The creatures gathered up around his ankles, and he greeted him like an old friend. Then, turning, he spotted my brother and me.
“Good evening.” He walked up to us. “I’m Dietrich. Have we met before?”
“No, I think I’d remember,” Michael spoke informally to someone from such a high station. “I’m Michael.”
“And who’s this?” Dietrich looked at me. His eyes were glassy.
“What?” Michael looked back at me. “Henry, when did you get here?”
“I’ve been with you the whole time,” I choked out.
“No, you haven’t.”
I couldn’t believe it. How could Michael not remember me being with him? We were arguing only a minute ago. The stump-like thing sniffed at me and sneezed before retreating to its like beasts, and they glanced among each other with shifty eyes.
“Michael, we should leave,” I urged, but Michael was too fascinated with meeting Dietrich to listen.
“Been here before?” Michael asked.
“No, but I should have. I mean, look at this place. It’s amazing, and this,” Deitrich scooped up a small ball-shaped creature.
Another crackling sound rippled behind us as, this time, a girl stepped through.
“Well, hello.” Dietrich sidled up to her. “Name’s Dietrich.” She cast her eyes down and pulled her hands up to her chest.
I had seen that kind of reaction among many serving class girls who were used to such “hellos” meaning trouble. The bruises clinging to her dark collarbones were evidence of this. Their bluish-purple hue matched the small flower she clutched in her slim fingers.
“Come on.” Dietrich put his arm around her. “What’s your name?”
“Alai,” she whispered.
“Now that’s a fine name.” Dietrich patted her shoulder and scooped her like a wheat fold over to Michael and me. “This is Michael, and—and—I’m sorry, who are you again?”
“Henry.”
“Right,” Dietrich said. “This is Michael’s brother Henry.”
One of the stump-like creatures scuttled back to me. It looked up at me with its yellow blinking eyes. Then, it pulled something like a fig off one of its few branches and presented the fruit to me.
“Go away,” I tried to shoo it but the creature kept pushing the fruit towards me.
“What’s wrong?” Dietrich asked. “It is just trying to give you something.”
“If you eat spirit food, the spirit steals your humanity. Then no creature can recognize you as human, even your own family,” I said.
“That superstitious garbage,” Michael mocked. “You don’t really think we’re in a spirit realm? Grow up already.”
“How do you explain all of this?” I pushed the stump thing away with my foot.
“I don’t know, but it’s not supernatural. Those stories are for scaring little kids into staying indoors and not taking questionable gifts from strangers. There’s no such thing as spirits,” Michael scoffed.
The stump thing threw its fig at me and wormed away on its roots with what I guess you could call an angry expression.
“You hurt its feelings,” Dietrich said.
“I’m sorry—maybe, we should just go before we upset them further.” I gestured back towards the town.
“You go if you want to,” Michael said.
“Let’s go exploring!” Dietrich grinned. “What do you say, Alai?”
She simply raised a timid knuckle to her lips.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“I agree with you,” Michael said. “Let’s explore.”
“It’s settled.” Dietrich grabbed Alai’s hand and pulled her forward. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!” I called after them. The three of them ignored me and walked further up the hill. I followed.
We crested the hilltop and looked down into a shallow valley. We gasped, seeing more odd creatures the size of grown men. They looked like empty husks of paper hives spiraling up into the air. Yet, aside from their ashy paper skin and being empty inside, they seemed disturbingly human, with arms and legs like ours and faces like people. There were hundreds of them trudging in circles through the wide basin.
“Woah,” Dietrich abandoned Alai’s hand, which she appeared grateful for, and rushed over to one of the husks. It seemed to ignore him even as he peeled off a layer of its gray skin. “This is so strange. It’s like they’re made out of paper!” Michael joined in with Deitrich’s prodding.
“You don’t have to stay,” I said to Alai. “We can go back.”
“No, I want to stay,” she said in a hushed voice.
Dietrich turned back to us. “Look at these things, Alai—hey,” Dietrich turned to me. “Who are you?”
“Henry?” I said, puzzled.
“Are you not sure what your name is?” he laughed.
“You already met me, not two minutes ago.”
“Did I? My memory is usually pretty good. I’m positive that it was just Alai, Michael, and me,” Dietrich mused. I was moving from wary to perturbed. How could he have simply forgotten I was there? “Let’s keep exploring.”
We moved our way through the husks. Some of the other kinds of strange creatures were following us. One looked like the meanest dog you’ve ever seen with taloned bird feet instead of paws. One had a long body with purplish-blue fur. It slithered as much as it walked. Another looked like it had goat feet, a fat man’s belly, and a bird head with short, floppy ears. And those stump things were always following en masse on our heels.
We came upon a small grove. A bluish light danced inside it, bouncing off small pools of water and glass plates that seemed to float in the air. We all marveled at it for a moment.
As we entered, the surfaces picked up our reflections. Alai touched one, and it rippled like water beneath her finger. Suddenly, an image appeared on it of another place. It was daytime in the picture, and people moved about in strange clothes through a peculiar town.
The others were enraptured by it. I thought it was fascinating too, but I couldn’t shake my nerves off long enough to enjoy it like they were. The air of this place was heavy somehow, putting me ill at ease.
“You do not smell of the tokens like the others,” a voice hissed. I turned around to see another strange creature. Its gray skin was wrinkled. Its body was like a lizard with a back bent sharply to the sky, its form partially concealed in a kind of cloak. “Most curious. Perhaps—perhaps you hold the answer.”
“What are you?” I stepped back. The creature tilted its head to the side. Tracing its line of sight to the others, I put myself in its path even as I realized there was no sure thing to do to protect them if the creature turned out to be dangerous.
“What am I? What are you? Your kind could not enter this realm without a token. So I wonder if you are some other kind.” There was an odd glint to the creature’s eyes—something like hope.
“What are tokens?” I asked.
“Things of this realm; small flowers, long jagged scales. Things to trap and ensnare. To make this pretty place a prison,” the creature said.
“What about some coins?” This creature might have answers about what this place was and how to get Michael to leave. As long as it was talking and the others occupied nearby, it couldn’t hurt to ask.
“Yes, coins.” Its head bobbed. “Or something like that.”
“My brother has one,” I gasped.
“And you touched him as you entered this place?” It tilted its long head.
“I did.” I nodded, looking back briefly to ensure the others hadn’t wandered off on me. They were captured by a new scene of fast-moving things that glimmered like they were made of steel.
“I see.” The creature stroked its hooked jaw with its long fingers. Its wrinkled lips hooked up in something like a smile. “Yes, a rare opportunity. A chance—at last, a chance. I will tell you, human, that I am called Keeper. This grove is where the tales of this land and more intersect. I have seen and told many wisdoms over so many centuries. So heed me. Leave this place, now. It is the only way.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“I want to, but the others won’t listen to me. What do you mean the only way?”
I looked back at them again to see the scene had shifted to rolling hills of trees with pink budding flowers. The petals drifted through a breeze like silken rain.
“They will not come with you. Those tokens resemble in the physical what is captured in their hearts. This place is like a dream to them. Nothing is real. Nothing is true. That is why these fables can enrapture them.” Keeper gestured towards the standing pools. “You, little one, see this place as it is. If you leave now, you will still be able to return without the beguiling of a token. You may grow and become stronger. Then when it is right, you can return. You can break what has made my home into a wretched curse. Go, please.”
“But, my brother—”
“No!” Keeper barked. It scuttled towards me and grabbed my wrists in its boney fingers. “You do not listen! You must go, or there is no hope for any of us. There is a creature here that has caught their scent, the Taegorak. None of your realm can survive it while beguiled. None of this realm can defeat it. This creature is what baited them here, to destroy them. Only you can stop this wretched cycle. Leave now. Train, grow, and come back to defeat this monster before it destroys all that is good between our worlds.”
“But why is this creature so dangerous? Why does it want to hurt us? How am I supposed to defeat it when you say no one else can?”
I look back to see the others now looking at a scene that made it seem like there were flying through the air. The view swooped over mountains, and when they dipped close to a lake, the water exploded around them before they climbed back into the sky. Keeper shook my wrists.
“The Taegorak hungers, as all creatures do. It hungers not for flesh but souls, their humanity itself.” Keeper took a ragged breath.
It was like the old stories of goblins and spirit creatures had come to life. Monsters that wanted not just your life but whatever it was that made you human. With a choking sound, Keeper continued.
“All you see here is a result of it. None of us have the power to stop it. The more humanity the Taegorak consumes, the stronger it becomes, but humanity is also the key to defeating it, and now, at last, we have a chance.”
“I can’t do anything about any monster. I’m not a hero from a fable. No magic will make me powerful enough to defend this place from a creature you can’t defeat yourself. There is nothing I could learn or do to change whatever is happening here. I can’t even get my brother to listen to me.”
I yanked my wrists free and stared the creature down with false bravery.
Desperation choked Keeper’s voice. “Of course, you are not ready. You are too young, that is true; you do not have the skills. That’s why you must go now. Go and prepare and become strong enough to save this realm and your own. Don’t underestimate who you may become, the value of your humanity, or what your being here means. Realize it or not, child, you have opened a door that I thought would forever be closed—hope.”
“This can’t be,” I shook my head.
“Stop reasoning. This is beyond your reasoning!” Keeper tugged me down so it could grab my face and look me in the eye. I gasped and pulled back, but Keeper’s hands held me with a strength it hadn’t used before. “What you have known is only part of what can be.”
Keeper released me, and I staggered back, sucking in a sharp breath as it wrung its hands.
“AIf there is something that dangerous, then that’s all the more reason to get them out of here,” I said. “Even if I believe you, there is no way I can fight that thing do what you are telling me to by myself, not with all the time in the world, and not if I somehow could learn how to defeat a monster. They can help me. Michael would be a better help than me, and Deitrich would have the influence to get us access to information and training. Alai knows how to work hard and would help too. If you need humans to save you, we’d be far better off with all of us.”
“They will not come. These others are dreaming. If you stay with them, you will only accomplish the loss of your own life, the wasting of this opportunity!” Keeper’s lips trembled. “Never has a chance like this come, and it may never come again. It would be ideal to rescue these people, yes, but it is impossible. You cannot save them, but you may save whoever would come after by leaving now.”
“So be it,” I squared my shoulders with the sternest expression I could muster. “I won’t leave my brother behind just because some creature tells me to.”
“Impertinent child,” Keeper hissed. “So be it.’ Then so be it! Keeper warned you. A chance, Keeper is a fool. Humans are too dense to hear, always.” The creature howled a mournful cry. “Any trouble you find was bought with your own coin.”
Keeper scuttled back into the thicket, muttering angrily to itself. As the rustling leaves settled, I almost thought I heard it whimpering.
I turned to the others to see they were laughing at a menagerie of animals dressed in clothing like people and working in a village as people would. I grabbed my brother’s shoulder.
“Michael.”
“Henry! When did you get here?”
“That’s starting to get old,” I sighed.
“What is?” Michael raised a brow.
“We need to go home,” I said.
“Why? Haven’t you looked at all of this? The grove is amazing.” Michael turned to look at the new scene unfolding before Deitrich and Alai. It was underwater, surrounded by colorful corals and fish. They gasped in awe.
“Yeah, so very amazing. Let’s go,” I pulled Michael back to face me.
“What’s your rush?” he asked.
“Don’t you think there was a reason behind all the stories? It’s dangerous here.” I didn’t know if I fully believed what Keeper had told me, but my twisting stomach tightened into a firm knot. It could have been fear or my exhaustion from staying up so late, but I couldn’t shake that feeling of wrongness.
“You’re such a baby,” Michael tsked.
“I am not,” I huffed. “Let’s go.”
“Henry, you are starting to annoy me.” Michael turned a more fiery gaze toward me. Finally, he looked more awake.
“I wouldn’t be if you listened to me!”
“Why do you have to bother me all the time?” Michael huffed.
“If you won’t listen to me, Keeper will tell you.”
“Who?”
“This lizardy creature.” I looked back into the hollows of the grove. “Keeper!” It didn’t come. “Keeper, help me!” I looked back to see Michael had gone back to watching the images. “Michael!” I shouted.
“Henry? When did you get here? Why are you yelling?”
“You can’t be serious.” I grabbed his arm and started pulling him out of the grove. “We’re going home.”
“What’s going on?” Dietrich asked. The yelling must have broken him and Alai out of their trance. Michael wrenched his arm from my grip.
“It’s just my little brother,” Michael said.
“Oh, nice to meet you. What’s your name?” Dietrich offered his hand with a smile.
“Henry, I told you that three hundred times. Every time you all look away from me, you forget about me. There are all sorts of strange things here. A creepy lizard said that there was some kind of monster out there that wants to eat us. We need to go back home!”
They all laughed at me.
“Come on, Henry,” Michael said. “We’ve seen dozens of creatures here. None of them talk, and none of them tried to hurt us.”
“So you want to wait until they do?”
“Maybe we should listen to him,” Alai murmured.
“She speaks!” Dietrich gave a jovial slap on her back as his form of approval. “All right, we can go.”
“What? Why?” Michael asked.
“If Alai is nervous, and so is Hennidy—”
“Henry,” I corrected.
“Henry,” Dietrich continued. “Then we should go. To respect them.”
Alai smiled shyly at him.
“But there’s so much more out there,” Michael said.
“Yeah, we can come back another time and explore more.”
“What if there isn’t another time?”
“No, we should just go,” I said, aiming to keep them on track.
“Well,” Dietrich mused. “What if we explore one more thing? Like the top of that hill?” Dietrich pointed to a gentle hill not far away. “Would you be okay with that, Alai?”
She shrugged. “I guess so. But I wouldn’t want to stay longer.”
“Excellent. What about you, Benny?” Dietrich asked.
“Henry,” I grumbled. “The sooner we leave, the better. Just to the top of the hill.”
“Then a compromise has been decided,” Dietrich declared.
“Let’s explore,” Michael urged, and so we left the grove and made our way further into the hills.
We reached the top of another dark knoll. The grass was a deep gray under the starlight, but we all gasped at the shimmering purple flowers forming wavering rivers down into the bowl of the next valley. Michael, Dietrich, and Alai laughed together and rushed into the basin. Deitrich threw himself down to roll to the bottom in fits of laughter. I followed cautiously, warily eyeing the empty space and subtle rolls of the earth among the flowers. It couldn’t be that safe, that perfect, could it? Certainly not with the monster Keeper had warned me of looming somewhere.
The others began picking handfuls of flowers and breathing in their deep herb-like aroma. I leaned down and plucked one of the blooms. There was something familiar about this unassuming flower.
“Michael.” I saw Michael handing flower after flower to Alai as she giggled. Deitrich was more cheery than ever, sitting among the blooms and braiding the dark stems of his plucked flowers into a crown. I crept closer and tugged Michael’s arm. “Michael.”
“Henry, when did you get here?” Michael asked.
“It’s time to go home. We said we’d go to the top of the hill. This isn’t the top of the hill anymore,” I said.
“You go home. I’m having fun.”
“This place is lovely, but we shouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be here,” Alai practically whispered. She took a deep breath of her bouquet. My eyes landed on the one flower tucked in Alai’s hair, and I realized why the flower was familiar.
“Where did you get that flower?” I asked.
“From Michael,” Alai said.
“No, the one in your hair.”
“Oh.” She raised her hand to caress the petals. “I’m not sure. I’ve always had it, I think.”
“You couldn’t have. It would have died, and the bloom is still fresh,” I said. Alai tilted her head, considering it.
“Come on, kid,” Dietrich stood. “Can’t you just let us have some fun?” He placed his crown on Alai’s head. She smiled, a blush rising in her brown cheeks.
“I’m not trying to stop you from having fun. I’m trying to make sense of what’s happening. If my brother’s gold piece came from something here, and Alai’s flower probably came from this field, where did your token come from? Is it a scale from some creature or a dagger, or what? What does it belong to? None of you find this strange?”
“No. Quit worrying so much,” Dietrich waved me off.
“He’s right, Henry,” Michael said. “If you’re scared, go home.”
“I can’t go without you.”
“Maybe he’s scared to go by himself,” Alai said.
“Grow up. You’re not a baby anymore,” Michael scoffed, plopping down and sending up a puff of purple petals.
“It can’t hurt to take your brother home.” Alai offered one of her flowers to Michael, and he considered her for a moment.
“No, he can take himself.”
“Fine, I’ll go with him.” Alai took my hand. “Let’s go. Don’t worry, Michael and Deitrich will be fine.” She started pulling me away.
“But—” I began to protest.
“Shh.” She winked at me. “Boys are like this a lot. He’ll change his mind.”
“Wait,” Michael stood. “I’ll take him.”
“What are you all worried about?” Dietrich huffed. “There’s nothing wrong with this place. Let the baby go back by himself. He shouldn’t ruin our fun. Everything is perfectly safe!” Dietrich threw down his token, the pointed end of the scale sinking into the earth. He stomped on top of one of the small knolls. “We’re in a field of flowers. What do you expect to happen? Goblins to randomly appear and kidnap you?”
“No, I—”
I gasped as the ground began to rumble. Dietrich staggered off of the knoll as it slowly began to rise. We gaped as scaly arms and legs appeared from under the sod. A long neck unfurled, revealing a triangular lizard head and toothy maw. Each long, glittering, twisted scale reverberated with a deep rumble in the creature’s chest.
“The Taegorak,” I gasped. “Run!”
Finally, everyone listened, charging back up the hill as the creature shifted from an earthen hill to a jaggedly-edged, cow-barn-sized monster. We managed to scramble to the top of the hill before the Taegorak gave chase. It strode after us on claws as long as a man was tall, tearing deep gouges into the soft dirt behind us.
It craned its long neck forward, snapping up Dietrich in its massive jaws. We shrieked but kept running. The sounds—the crunching and wet shredding that followed—only speed us forward, sending ice water into our veins. We had neared Keeper’s grove by the time the hulking form reappeared.
“Keep running,” Michael huffed while running beside me. “I’ll distract it.”
“No,” I cried. “You can’t!”
“Alai, take Henry. Get to safety.” Before I could protest, Alai yanked me forward.
“Come after me, you ugly demon!” Michael yelled.
He charged westward, away from us. Tears pricked my eyes. The pounding of my feet on the sod echoed the vibrations of the booming steps of the Taegorak.
Finally, we reached the Keeper’s grove. The bright light from the mirrors that had attracted the others was shuddering and dim. My legs and lungs burned with each step. Between the Taegorak’s size and speed, I knew we had no way to outrun it. Then Michael screamed—so sharp, and then, so quiet. It was a dagger in my ears, in my chest.
After a moment of our thudding feet and pounding hearts, we passed the grove, and the thundering of the creature returned. We just had to pass through the valley of husk creatures and climb one more hill to get back to where we had crossed into the foot of the grove. We barreled down into the valley. We forced our way through the husks, their papery skin crackling as we pushed them aside. As we started climbing that last hill, a crunching like charred corn husks fresh from the fire sounded on our heels.
Suddenly, Alai’s hand was ripped from mine, and she shrieked. Skidding to a halt and looking back, my breath caught seeing the Taegorak throwing her high into the air before catching her brutally in its jaws.
I turned back towards the direction of the village and continued to run. Finally, reaching the stump creatures again. Almost home. The path’s edge where Michael and I had crossed into this horrible place came into view. Too far and so close. The stump creatures began pelting me with their fruit, so that I had to dodge them and whatever else would slow or trip me. The thundering footsteps returned.
Slipping on one of the watery fruits, I thudded to the ground. With the Taegorak closing in, the sound of it snuffling as it ran echoed around me, and the smell of its moist stinking breath engulfed me. Pulling myself to my knees and gasping from exhaustion, my eyes meet those of one of the stump creatures. It was so like the creatures from the old stories. The things from the first stories I had ever heard might be the last thing to see me while I was still alive.
It clicked. The Keeper’s words about how the creature hungered for our humanity, and the old stories my parents told of the spirit creatures in the hills. Snatching up the fruit, I took a bite, choking it down. The Taegorak skidded to a stop over me, right as the lump of bitter-sweet fruit scraped down my throat. The creature lowered its massive head spreading its jaws wide, its hot breath smelling of putrid metallic gore rolling over its long tongue.
I put my hands up as if that would protect me and gasped, seeing my skin turning gray and breaking apart like over-dried paper. Then, with a jolt, shadows burst from every crack in my skin, forming the odd creatures we had seen dotting the grove.
The Taegorak snapped its jaws shut, and I pinched my eyes closed, but no pain came. The ground reverberated with the creature’s snarl and the crunching scrape of dirt under its talons. Its feet shook the ground as it adjusted its footing. I opened my eyes, suddenly face to face with one of its massive eyes, and scooted back with a whimper. Its oblong pupil tightened into a pin line of black in a sea of gold. It rolled its neck, curling back and opening its jaw with a gritty growl. The Taegorak’s massive nostrils flared as it took in several huffs of air. It leaned its head back down, its sucking breath shredding free the loose curls of my papery skin. The Taegorak snorted at me, shaking its massive head, and lumbered away.
Slowly, I stood on shaky legs I couldn’t quite feel anymore. Then, running my fingers over the papery shell that should have been my skin, the realization hit that I had become one of the husk creatures. It didn’t matter; I was still alive. There had to be some way to fix this if this crinkling form could just get me home.
My body wobbled on unfeeling legs towards the village. My breaths no longer rasped in the empty cavity of my chest. The aching was gone. All feeling was gone.
I reached the place where the grass met the edge of the village road, still hoping this was some horrible nightmare. Yes, of course, that is what it was. I would wake up any moment now and Michael would make fun of me for having such a dream spun from children’s stories.
I stepped forward and then tumbled to my numb knees, my paper skin crunching as they hit the ground. I shook my head and checked if there was damage to this frail form, but there was no easy way to tell with how this body coiled in papery shreds. My form struggled to stand, to find my feet. I tried again to take that last desperately needed step towards home, only to slide to the ground again.
I reached toward the road, and my hand met something solid I couldn’t feel. A barrier kept me from going forward. I tried to speak, to scream, but whatever makes a person capable of doing so, I didn’t have anymore. No sound came from me except the rustling of my limbs as I frantically probed the air, trying to find a way to slip through this invisible barrier. I wanted to cry, but no tears could come.
The Keeper. Keeper had to know how to help me. He knew what would happen to the others. He had to know how to fix this. I wobbled back towards the grove. It just had to work. I pushed past the creatures that were now odd kin to me and climbed back to the groupings of trees where Keep’s grove was.
Reaching the grove with its floating mirrors reflecting the pine needles, leaves, and the night sky, it was so much darker. A few still held images of otherworldly things, but it was as if the grove was falling asleep with what pictures were there slowly fading into reflections of the here. I needed to get the Keeper’s attention, but how without a voice? I grabbed the edge of a mirror and thrust it down. It shattered spectacularly loud. I looked into the shadows where Keeper had come from, but not even a breeze stirred in the grove. It didn’t come. It never came.
I returned to the barrier many more times in the coming days and years but never could get through. Eventually, I realized it was because the same act that saved my life had trapped me here. As the legends said, my humanity was traded for my life, so there was no way to return to the human world.
I’m almost out of time now. My memories are the last piece of me that remains, and they are slipping away more and more. I can never go back to tell my family what happened—never explain to my parents why they woke up that next morning with no sons. You are my last chance. If you ever find yourself in Gethway, find a fletcher named Wendel. See if he and his wife Addie are well. If you can, help them have a measure of peace.
And if you are in another realm and can’t go, please remember for me. Keep this story so that some part of us who died in the grove can survive. And, if you ever think to tempt the truth of your old children’s stories for yourself, be wary. They might just turn out to be true.
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