You’re going to die.
Walter gritted his teeth. The Lift of Faith had made its lazy journey to the ground, and Walter was trying to remember his way to the Hollows.
You should acknowledge that death is the most likely outcome.
He tried to ignore the nagging thoughts and push forward through the dense underbrush of the forest.
You’re going to die along with the human. The frog might survive, but you’re going to die.
The intrusive thoughts were growing more insistent, not to mention alarmingly complex. If he thought listening to the voices calling on him to turn around and head home would give him some quiet, he wouldn’t hesitate, but he knew that’s not how it worked. He had to push on and hope that the unpleasant instincts disappeared on their own.
You’re not breathing. Maybe you’ve forgotten to breathe.
That one might be true. At the very least, he was certain that the ground was turning to gelatin. There must be a reason his legs kept shaking like that. He needed to catch his bearings and collect himself, but he also knew they needed to keep going. He wanted them to get as far away from the Archive as possible. Marigold agreed. So, despite his better judgment and uncertain legs, Walter led the others away from the building, where a ragged affiliation of mouths had tried to devour him a few minutes before.
Walter should be the one leading, but Marigold walked with a confidence that was impressive. He kept sneaky glances at her. There was something about her determination and quiet confidence. Well, relatively quiet. Brief arguments with the robot in her bag occasionally broke the silence.
The forest before them was familiar. He had faint memories of this place from his childhood, flashes of plodding beneath the glowing leaves with a group of other young creatures on the Pilgrimage. The details were gone, but he remembered the guide telling him how dangerous the plants were, poisonous if not outright carnivorous.
“This place is beautiful,” Maxwell said.
Walter looked over at the human. His eyes were full of wonder. Everything seemed a source of astonishment to his dull mortal eyes: the bio-luminescent mushrooms glowed blue and green, the thick trees with vines hanging down in purple trellises, the beds of speckled neon flowers—all of it was apparently mesmerizing.
“Don’t get too close,” Walter said.
“They’re just trees, right? Please tell me they’re just regular trees.”
“Maybe, maybe not. It’s impossible to predict.” Walter could see that Maxwell didn’t understand. “The forest close to the Hollows is different than the rest. Early in human history, when people began to understand that the growth of plants and animals followed a certain natural order, there were attempts to explain how it all worked. The problem was nobody could agree. Here in the Backend, we tried our best to craft an Artifact that synthesized some of the more dominant theories, but it was a disaster. Strange things grew that didn’t follow any semblance of logic. They just sprung into being. There were attempts to deactivate it, but the forest fought back, so they just locked the doors and let the forest grow the way it wanted to grow.”
“And?”
“And you end up with stuff like that,” Walter said.
He pointed at a large flower with petals that exploded like fireworks. Beyond the flowers was a glittering muddy pond that would have to be crossed. It growled as they approached. Someone had come this way and set down planks between the small mossy islands that peppered the bog, and after Marigold tested one with a branch torn from a nearby tree, she darted across to the other side. This enraged the water, and it barked and hissed as they passed, spitting water and foam.
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They made it across safely, and Walter took a second to get his bearings before leading them down a long-neglected path.
“You seem to know where we’re headed?” Marigold said.
Walter nodded. “It was the Pilgrimage from my childhood. Everyone had to make the journey to the Cauldron back then. It was a rite of passage. If you look, The ground slopes gently. If we keep heading down, we should get where we’re going.”
A pair of dogs watched them from the bower of a glowing white tree. Dogs were all that Walter could think to call them, though the name was obviously wrong. Their fur wriggled curiously, like worms, and they had no nose or mouth. It was not clear whether they were animal or plant, attached as they were to a nearby shrub. Maxwell seemed disturbed, and Walter couldn’t exactly disagree. He thought it best to take the human’s mind off of his surroundings.
“How has your journey been so far?”
“Oh, um, it’s pretty intense. Yes, I think intense is a good word.”
“I can only imagine.”
He’s going to die.
Walter ignored the thought, focusing instead on Maxwell’s kind smile. This was a good start. Real conversation, and with a human no less. He thought about how to keep it going.
“Well, it’s only going to get worse from here.”
“Oh, you mean the Hollows place where they want to eat me, right?”
“Well, if we can hide the robot and properly disguise you, we might just make it through. No humans need get eaten today,” Walter said, trying his best to offer a supportive laugh.
This didn’t seem to reassure him much. Perhaps silence was best after all.
They reached a small clearing, and Marigold stopped. “Hold on for a moment.”
She pulled IT out of the bag and placed him on the ground. The robot began running in circles, running its sensors over everything it could.
“Trees,” IT shouted. He ran up to Maxwell and looked up at him. “Do you see them? I’ve always wanted to see actual trees up close. I like the big one over there best.” IT swivelled around so that it pointed its sensor at a gnarly old tree visible through the window. “Which ones do you like, Maxwell?”
“Um, I usually prefer trees without eyes.”
“Well, I like them all.”
“Why are we stopping?” Walter asked. He turned to Marigold.
“I need to clarify something with all of you before we reach the Hollows. Getting in isn’t easy.”
“Yes, I’ve said as much,” Walter replied.
“We can’t go in the front way because we don’t have a trading permit.”
“Yes, yes, hence the walking through the forest. What are you getting at?”
“We’ll have to claim sanctuary,” Marigold said.
“What—no—why? You can’t be serious.”
“I’m very serious. I’ve already run away from the authorities and trespassed on the sacred ground of the Archive. This is what we do next.”
“Do you know what sanctuary would mean?”
“I’ve done it before, so, yes, I’m pretty sure I know what it means.”
Walter sighed. There was no point in arguing. He was along for the ride, even if the ride ended in a sharp, sudden crash.
“What about Maxwell?”
“Yes, what about me?” Maxwell asked.
“Maxwell, too. We’re all going to have to go through the trials.”
“Me too?” IT asked.
“No, not you. Your trial will be remaining quiet for more than 30 seconds.”
“Um, what are the trials exactly?” Maxwell asked.
“Combat,” Walter said. “We’ll have to fight to earn our place underground?”
“I can’t fight,” Maxwell said. “I don’t know anything about fighting. I’ve never fought.”
“There’s really no other way, Maxwell,” Marigold said.
The human nodded and looked down at the ground. He said nothing further but looked as if he was in the middle of a panic attack, a feeling Walter wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with himself. Walter admired the human. He was frail and clearly terrified, but he was willing to do what needed to be done. Perhaps he had been wrong about humans. He had never bothered to look at one closely, not even during his long years along the Wailing Plains.
“What are you doing?” Marigold said. She was looking over at IT who was disappearing into the forest.
“I’m just exploring. This place is great.”
“Get back here before you destroy yourself.”
“You’re not my mom. Stop being so uptight?”
“I’d rather be uptight than eat garbage.”
Marigold followed IT into the underbrush, continuing to argue with the robot as she went to retrieve it. Walter looked down at Maxwell who was still clearly thinking about the inevitable trial he faced. Walter took in a deep breath and exhaled.
It’s not too late to run away.