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Longing
Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

In the coming weeks, it was hard for Kendo to remember a time when his father was sober. John either had a new woman on his arm or was passed out in bed with all the lights turned off and the curtains drawn, on any given day. In between his father’s alcoholic sessions, Kendo had overheard his dad speaking on the phone a few times. More like yelling, since Kendo could hear it all the way in his room with the door shut. Though Kendo had never heard both sides of the conversations, it was clear John had been fired again and no one was going to give him a loan. Kendo guessed his father’s unemployment had been revoked too. With things looking this way, they might not have a place to live, come the end of the month.

Kendo didn’t get his weekly allowance anymore because of his father’s financial problems, so an inch of brown roots were poking out of Kendo’s multicolored hair. It irritated Kendo a bit that he couldn’t keep up his image, but at least with all these money problems John hadn’t cared when Kendo dropped out of school. Kendo remembered, right up until his last day on campus, that whenever he tried to bring up the faefolk attack, everyone’s eyes would glaze over. They would tilt their heads and ask why he cared about such a thing. It wasn’t that they didn’t remember; it was that they didn’t care. Kendo was always wondering who could have cast that sort of spell. He wondered if he were under its influence too. Maybe that’s why he had stopped caring about everything lately. Blame it on magic; that always works, he thought scornfully.

Kendo decided a walk might clear his head, or get him out of the house, or something. He stomped into his boots and tugged them into place, grabbed his key, and tiptoed out the front door before slamming it shut. He listened to his father’s drunken grumble and jogged away, heading to that old familiar path, to the path where everything had begun, the path to Grivgas’ old home.

Both Animal Control and Waste Management were working tirelessly to clear the roads, and for a while Kendo’s little town got on front page news, but after a few days their “Road Kill Crisis” was replaced by the latest political scandal, and they fell off the radar, back to where they belonged. Although there was more road kill each day; each day it was cleared away, and though everyone walked around wearing surgical masks to damper the smell; they still went on with their lives. Nothing really changed, and that was what disgusted Kendo the most. The people in his town could just put on their masks and accept that there would always be death stinking up their streets. It was sickening.

Kicking a pebble into the pond with a plip, Kendo began to wonder what they would do if something legitimately threatening climbed out of Olden and went for a stroll through the town. He wondered if a few human carcasses amidst the animals’ would make anyone care enough to do something besides aimlessly go on with their lives. Gazing at the cloudless sky, he felt the early spring breeze on his neck. Nothing was blooming yet, but winter was over, and it would’ve smelled like revived plant life if not for the decaying animals cluttering the nearest street. Kendo sighed and walked on, the ripple in the pond growing outward in circles that grew ever wider.

There had been a few creatures that crawled out from the portals of Olden, but Kendo managed to get rid of most of them before they did any real harm. A few Gatherers had snuck into Reality, trying to lure children into Olden with promises of candy and playtime, but Kendo had taken care of them. He wondered how long the Gatherers had really been doing things like that, given that there was so much lore on child-stealing monsters. (Kendo would never admit this to anyone, but he had taken to reading up on mythology whenever his feet dragged him to the library, which in truth happened more than he was comfortable with.) There was also a Griffon that flew out of the sky and landed on someone’s house once, but the guy wasn’t home and Kendo informed the Griffon that people didn’t exactly appreciate coming home to a pile of debris. After a short squabble, Kendo was left gasping in exhaustion, his magic depleted, and the Griffon flew off clutching its now-sizzling front foot as it squawked and roared into the distance. Kendo never saw it again.

After that, there was a Kelpie who drowned a local college freshman in one of the nearby lakes, but Kendo didn’t feel bad about letting it happen because he remembered Melanie once telling him that, when the guy was still an upperclassman in high school, he had been a major jerk. He heard a coyote howl once and, for the briefest moment, thought that it might’ve been Wilfred, but when he looked outside it was already nothing but a blur dashing away. Before he stopped going to school altogether, a few rumors were going around campus about vampires, but Kendo didn’t think they cared much for adolescents. He remembered Victor, in particular, saying that if a woman didn’t have curves then they weren’t worth biting.

In any case, Kendo had inadvertently become some sort of guardian for his town, and he was getting tired of it. Next time something evil crawled up from Olden, he told himself he was just going to let it do whatever it wanted. Using magic to ward everything off was tiring anyway.

The tall grass to his left shifted. He was nearing Grivgas’ path, following the remarkably clean bike path that circled the pond. Kendo reached that point where his body told him to either keep walking straight or turn the other way, cranked himself purposefully to the right, ignoring everything in his being that screamed to turn back, and stepped into Grivgas’ late abode. The shifting grass did not cease, and it was then Kendo knew something otherworldly was following him. He let out the breath he had been holding, took his hands out of his jean pockets and spun around, taking a ready stance.

He wasn’t surprised in the least when there was nothing visible there, but the air was stagnant, dead. Kendo imagined this was how being inside a vacuum would feel: suffocating, cold. He sucked in a breath and spoke to the space in front of him.

“Who are you and why are you following me?” His words sounded like a smoker’s cough, grainy and scratched. The mass in front of him swirled over itself, although still invisible, and responded.

“I am no one. I am a message.” Its tone was flat, its voice resonant and genderless.

Kendo relaxed, put his fists down. “Okay. What message?”

The thing cleared its throat, or at least that’s what it sounded like. It could’ve been snacking on a smaller invisible thing for all Kendo knew. He had learned not to assume anything in his time in Olden.

It spoke now with Wilfred’s voice, “We now know the Gatherers are responsible for Grivgas’ death.”

That was the first thing to get a truly humanistic reaction out of Kendo for a long, long time, small though it was. He gulped an honest-to-goodness gulp, a gulp that said, “Well, fuck.”

The invisible thing continued, still with Wilfred’s voice, scruffy and grating out of the thing’s throat, “There are a mere few things that could have poisoned Grivgas, all of which are difficult to find, and the only creatures who are capable of finding these things are the Gatherers. Kendo, you angered them. If you hadn’t murdered Frock, my old friend might still be alive.”

“What?” Kendo clenched his fists, “What do I have to do with that!”

“Please do not interrupt me,” said the invisible thing in its own voice. Wind erupted outward from the thing and beat a cluster of leftover dead leaves out of the surrounding trees. The leaves landed with tiny, pathetic crinkles. Kendo shut his mouth and seethed, nodding towards the thing so it would continue.

It did, in Wilfred’s voice. “Gatherers are filthy, obnoxious things, but they do serve a purpose. Many creatures in Olden have no way of travelling between the realms.” Somehow, in this message, Wilfred sounded like himself again. He sounded like a teacher, lecturing. “Usually, this is a non-issue since most of the creatures can find their food within Olden itself, as in, without needing to travel to Reality. The problem comes when they can’t find the right kind of food to sustain themselves.”

Kendo looked at, or through, or past the invisible thing with the most perplexed face he could muster. Confusion had temporarily blocked his frustrated anger.

Wilfred’s voice continued, “There are more than a few creatures in Olden who need to eat humans to survive.”

Kendo still didn’t know what the fuck Wilfred was talking about.

The dirt shifted under where the invisible thing must’ve been, and it said in Victor’s voice this time, “Look, Kendo, it’s simple. It was Fowlina who hired Frock. She needed food for her hatchlings and couldn’t travel to Reality so Frock offered his services. Now I don’t care that you killed Frock because I couldn’t stand the little twerp, but the Gatherers sure did, and they found out about your visit to Grivgas’ portal before all this happened.”

Realization stabbed Kendo in the gut.

Still in Victor’s voice, it said, “Long story short, after you got rid of Frock, the Gatherers traced your steps back to Grivgas, who just kind of got caught in the middle of it. They thought he was helping you, or conspiring with you, or something.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Kendo heard a shove and a grunt from Victor followed by an, “Okay, okay. Sheesh. Werewolves, I swear…” muffled in the background.

Wilfred spoke again, sounding calm now, even complacent, “More to the point, there are rumors in the Court that Fowlina has decided to start working alongside the Gatherers. You’d best be on your guard. I don’t need another pupil of mine getting…” A long, painstaking pause and then Wilfred said, in a much softer tone than usual, “Be careful.”

“Wha-”

The thing interrupted Kendo in its own voice, saying, “That is the end of it.” If Kendo’s mind hadn’t been racing, he would’ve noticed the thing cease to exist and the world fall back into place like a curtain.

He thought he got rid of Fowlina; didn’t he defeat her when he was still training with Wilfred? Scratching his head as he tried to sort everything out in his mind, Kendo stepped through Grivgas’ portal into Olden and was met with eerie, yellow smog and the purple-haired human who he remembered was named Melissa.

She stood with her hands on her hips, grinning, looking rather conceited. She said, “I heard Fowlina wants to kill you, so I’m here to give you a proposition. Wanna hear?” The Veins let out a faint multicolored glow, luminescent through the yellow fog. Kendo then knew where he was: at the outskirts of Olden’s gigantic forest, just outside Fowlina’s territory.

Kendo felt the portal warp closed behind him: bent, frigid air that vanished as quickly as it had come. Turning his full attention to Melissa, he arched a brow. She smelled like fairy wine. The scent wafted off of her in tumbles of spearmint, dandelions and maple syrup. It smelled so sweet it was gag-inducing. Her eyes were unfocused. Kendo would recognize that drunken expression anywhere; it was strikingly similar to the one his father would wear after a few bottles of vodka.

“Might as well,” Kendo said in a sigh. There wasn’t any way to get out of hearing whatever she had to say. He didn’t know Melissa that well, but he knew her enough to know that she didn’t put up with people ignoring her. “What is it?” He crossed his arms and tried not to inhale too much of her breath.

“Let’s just fuck the world!” She laughed, full and manic and then said, “We could do it. We have plenty of power between us. We could open Olden for all to see!” She sounded crazy; a quiver in her voice like another laughing fit was just waiting to burst out of her again. After a pause to catch her breath she said with a smile, “Screw Reality; it sucks anyway.”

Kendo had never seen her like this before, nor had he ever seen someone speak with such abandon. He didn’t say anything and watched Melissa as she clutched her stomach, giggling all over again.

“Oh, come on Kendo,” Melissa continued between her fits of muffled giggles, “It isn’t like you haven’t thought of it before. Every human who’s been here has. We all think the same thing after a while.”

Kendo uncrossed his arms, subconsciously taking a step back, leaning away from Melissa. “And what thought is that?” He neglected to ask what other humans had been to Olden, although that question did momentarily poke at the back of his psyche.

Melissa didn’t humor him. She said, “You know what I’m talking about. You’re just in denial.” Trying to hide her widening smile, she turned away from him to face the forest. “Whatever. If you don’t want Fowlina to eat you, I suggest you get on her good side.”

Get on Fowlina’s good side. How preposterous.

Kendo said, “Wait.”

Melissa turned back to Kendo, her left foot still suspended in the air. She had stopped mid-motion as she was stepping over the Veins’ intertwining wooden fence, which served as the boundary of Fowlina’s Forest. Wilfred told Kendo once that the fence wasn’t built, but grown. It sprouted from the ground like any other plant, and then weaved over itself as it stretched the circumference of the forest, clearly defining Fowlina’s territory.

“Even if I told you yes and went through with whatever crazy plan you’ve got, what would opening the portals have to do with keeping Fowlina from eating me?” He couldn’t believe he was asking her this, but he honestly wanted to know.

Melissa remembered her hovering foot and stepped down onto it. She faced Kendo from the other side of the fence. “Think of how many allies you would gain in Olden if you eliminated their dependence on the Gatherers. Most of the creatures here hate them, but are forced to cooperate because they can’t get their own food. If you had the whole Court on your side, Fowlina would be outnumbered even if she did want to hurt you. And she isn’t stupid enough to make a move that endangers her.”

An unfamiliar feeling welled inside Kendo, like anger and regret and hatred, except positive. This feeling was devious. Oh, how delicious they were when the words slipped out of his mouth, “I’ll do it.”

Melissa scoffed at him. “Are you sure? Can’t turn back once you’ve started; I would know.”

A Vein glimmered in the distance, a beacon. Kendo thought of his town, the road kill piling up without anyone caring and his father’s financial predicament. He lingered on the thought of being homeless, forced to bum around with his dad, and he had to swallow the bile that lurched up his esophagus.

“I’m sure.”

Melissa spun on her heel. “Then follow me,” she said.

Kendo stepped over the fence and journeyed into the forest, keeping a few paces behind Melissa. This was one part of Olden he had specifically avoided during his trips to escape Reality. Not only was this where Melanie was killed; it also had an aura or something that just rubbed Kendo the wrong way. The only light here was in the Veins, unlike the Court that had fire and a fair amount of other radiant creatures. The throbbing pulses of the Veins only served to illuminate how dark it really was in the forest, and the trees towered overhead like looming monstrosities. Nowadays, Kendo was rarely scared, but this place was frightening. He hadn’t returned since he had run from Fowlina as she devoured Melanie, and he was beginning to understand why.

Melissa, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease. There was even a bounce in her step if you looked close enough.

A branch snapped under Kendo’s boot. The sound reverberated on the air far longer than it would have in Reality, and whispers rose from the darkness around them. Kendo cleared his throat, trying to get Melissa’s attention. She kept on walking, trudging up a mound of dirt and around to the backside of one of the trees. A purple Vein wiggled out from the bark, wafting its iridescent tendrils at Kendo, who jogged to catch up to Melissa. The whispering followed him, changing volumes at an eclectic rate, and the Vein caressed his arm as he passed the tree.

Melissa was about to round another bend when Kendo shouted, “Will you wait up!”

Her response was, “What’s your problem? Hurry up.”

The whispering sizzled in the air, growing louder. Nonetheless, it remained incoherent. It sounded like electronic static.

“Don’t you hear that?” Kendo asked.

“Well duh,” Melissa answered, “You don’t expect them to shut up just because a few humans are walking through, do you?”

That silenced Kendo, but he still didn’t know what was making that noise. There was nothing but shadows around, and a few Veins glowing amidst the trees.

They walked on for a while with only the buzzing whispers and their footsteps to fill the silence, but then Kendo was bugged enough to speak up again. “What’s making that noise? There isn’t anything here but the Veins, right?”

Melissa delayed her trek onward to give him an incredulous look. “This is the most populated area in all of Olden,” she said. Seeing Kendo’s perplexed expression, she elaborated, “Everything invisible lives here.”

Of course, that explained everything, Kendo thought scornfully. It wasn’t as though he didn’t believe her, though. They kept on going until they reached a colossal tree. Even if Kendo craned his neck so far it strained, he couldn’t see the top. The tree’s upper branches spindled outward like a spider’s web and the bark was as thick and hard as river rock. Melissa stomped three times on an arch of root that jutted out of the ground, and a crimson Vein swirled out of the cracks in the bark. It swayed back and forth in its dance and Melissa mirrored it before adding her own little half-step and turn at the end of the jig. The Vein pulsed, brightening its color, and then seeped back into the tree bark.

Melissa stepped off the root. She and Kendo waited together at the base of the tree, with only the whispering invisibles to keep the area from being unbearably stagnant and silent. It wasn’t long before Fowlina leapt from her perch atop the tree and dived to meet them. She smashed the root as she landed and it splintered and died under her talons. Kendo jerked backward out of reflex. He found himself shivering. Fowlina commanded the space in front of him with the coldness and stature of ancient nobility, batwings outstretched and her human arms folded over her feathered chest. In the bird-woman’s presence now, Kendo wondered how he had ever made the mistake of thinking the manifestation of Fowlina that he had conjured during his training could equal the real thing. He couldn’t stop shaking, but he grimaced and made a point of hiding it.

“Explain why you have brought this whelp to my forest.” Fowlina did not acknowledge Kendo with a gesture, only with her words. Her owl-eyed gaze was focused entirely on Melissa.

Melissa bowed deeply and then craned her head back, exposing her slender neck to Fowlina. She said, “I have a proposition for you. If it works, it could rid Olden of the Gatherers permanently.”

Fowlina stretched taller, flattened her batwings to her side and spun her head completely around to leer at Melissa. “Explain.”

As Kendo clenched and unclenched his fists, hidden inside his pockets, Melissa licked her lips and looked Fowlina in the eye for the first time. “He is proficient enough in magic to help me break the portals. We could demolish the Court’s time-restraints and then everyone could get to and from Reality.”

Intrigued, Fowlina spun her head back around and pecked at her fingernails, clearing dirt out from her cuticles. Kendo started tapping his foot. The tension was getting to him despite the fact that Fowlina seemed uninterested in killing him at the moment.

Melissa went on to say, “You wouldn’t have to wait for the Gatherers to get your food, nor would you have to bide your time until your portal opened again. You could travel to and from Reality whenever you wanted, come and go as you please. It’s a solution for everyone in Olden.”

“Hm,” said Fowlina. She stopped picking at her nails. She blinked and then narrowed her eyes.

“All I would need is the promise that no one would interfere with our work,” Melissa said, “It’s a fair deal.”

Kendo gulped. The whispers of the invisibles ceased, deadening the atmosphere. No Vein glowed for a moment, ushering in a pitch-black darkness that complimented Kendo’s anxiety. With his other senses gone, the smell of fairy wine that rippled off of Melissa bombarded his nostrils even more and Kendo almost plugged his nose to keep from dry-heaving, but by that time the Veins had returned and Fowlina was visible again. She stood rigid with consideration.

Kendo could tell Melissa was holding her breath, waiting for an answer.

“I agree,” Fowlina said at length, “Do what you must and be gone with you!”

Melissa inhaled thankfully as Fowlina ascended to her perch in the canopy. Her flapping created gusts of wind so strong that Kendo and Melissa both had to throw their arms over their faces for cover. But once Fowlina was settled in the branches again, she did not peer down at the two humans and gave them no more thought. The whispers began again.

Melissa stared Kendo right in the eyes, “You ready for this?”

Kendo guessed he was as ready as he’d ever be. He gave her a nod, and the nervous jitters in his limbs were nothing compared to the ambition that lay dormant in his gut.