Mycal woke to darkness. He was getting better at the surface-dwellers’ technique of telling time by the positions of various lights in the sky, but tonight the moon and stars were largely obscured by a drifting sea of broken cloud. It was easier to guess the time by feeling how deep his mycelium had rooted into the hillside. Not far past midnight, maybe?
Aggie was sound asleep, undisturbed by whatever had roused him from his strange, wispy dreams. Not for the first time he wondered if the lurid scenes were mostly-forgotten memories, or just the fanciful conjurations of a weary mind. He shook the thought aside and looked over at the sleeping girl. She looked very peaceful, pale cheek resting on pale hand. Freed from the messy problems of the waking world she looked like a different person, serene as a moonlit sea, her chest rising and falling as naturally as the tide with every long, deep, dreamers’ breath.
A distant shriek washed over the hillside, the direction of its origin uncertain as it cut through the still, empty air. Maybe that was what had woken him? He stood up, quietly as he could manage, and looked out across the ocean of dark treetops. Barely a leaf moved. The usual symphony of frogs, crickets and other night creatures were absent, or at least very subdued, as if they were afraid to draw attention to themselves.
Another shriek, and this time he was sure there were words in there, distorted and barely recognisable as the forest tried its best to swallow them among its boughs and branches.
“…look out! They’re in…”
With eyes so well suited to the darkness he spotted a rustling of leaves maybe a mile distant, something moving rapidly through the canopy. He scanned the nearby area and…there! Another, and another. Maybe half a dozen things circling what might be a small clearing and…was that a low cloud? No, it was smoke. A campfire?
A soft breeze stirred the night air, carrying with it more shouting and…barking? Mycal clearly caught the words this time. “…mushrooms! Evil mushrooms!”
He was already sprinting down the hill when his rational mind tried to speak up, timidly proposing that he consider a plan of some sort, or waking Aggie, or doing anything other than rush headlong into an unknown and dangerous situation. It was too late. The adrenaline drove him forward into the forest with a speed he didn’t know he possessed, threads of hyphae erupting from his footpads to grip the earth and fling him between and around the trees with heedless abandon.
The smell of smoke hit his nostrils first, followed by a flaming branch hitting him much more literally in the face. He yelped in shock and pain, reeling from the blow and tripping on his own feet before landing hard on his back. With both wind and wits knocked out of him, he could only wheeze and watch cross-eyed as a blurry figure raised the branch for a killing blow.
“What are you waiting for? Kill it, Raul!”
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Mycal’s vision cleared enough for the blurry face to come into focus. There was a shared moment of recognition, then a stringy white tendril whipped out of the treeline and wrapped around Raul’s neck. The branch fell to the ground as his hands went to his throat, trying to pry away the tightening coil as his face rapidly reddened, eyes bulging as his mouth gaped silently.
An angry shout pulled Mycal’s attention to the other human, a woman with short, whiteish hair who was striding toward him, steel blade and steelier eyes flashing with murderous intent as she raised her arm to strike. He held up his hands in submission, words caught in his throat as he tried to back away.
Pain shot through his leg, hot and fierce. He gasped and looked down. Raul’s branch had burned him, turning the pale flesh dark and filling the air with heavy, meaty scent. He lunged for the branch as the sword descended, gripping it in both hands and executing an awkward flop of a roll before swinging it up hard to meet the blade in a shower of sparks. He knocked it aside just enough to save his neck, but still lost a sizable piece of his headcap as the glowing blade sheared through him. He ignored the pain and glanced at Raul, who had fallen to his knees and was turning an unfortunate shade of purple.
The woman readied for another strike. Mycal looked her hard in the eye, raised his burning branch, then turned away from her and thrust the flaming branch into the ropey strands chocking Raul. He heard a shriek from the treetops as the fibres withered and split. Raul gasped as the noose loosened and slipped away, the tendril withdrawing into the darkness.
“Lew! Shtop! Heesh nawt whun of yem!”
Firelight reflected off the sword’s tip as it halted an inch from Mycal’s eye. He froze, not daring to move. The woman looked at the wheezing Raul. “What did you say?”
“Heesh…” gasp, “he’s not…” gasp, “not one of them!”
A strong hand grabbed Mycal’s arm and the woman pulled him forward, glaring at him, sword still held near enough to end him in a moment if she so chose. “Sure looks like one to me.” She shook him hard. “Tell your friends to back off, or I’ll…”
“Look out!” Mycal threw himself forward and pushed the woman aside, nearly skewering himself on her blade in the process. A trio of tendrils struck the spot she had been a moment before, flinging clumps of earth into the air and smothering the fire under a shower of dirt, leaving only the light of the glowing blade to illuminate the clearing. The woman pushed Mycal off and jumped up, hacking at the pale cords as they reached for her. Shadows danced as she severed one, then another, and another. Shrill cries echoed form the treetops as the stumps withdrew.
Mycal chased after one as it slithered away, trying to stomp it twice before just throwing himself on top of it. It dragged him almost to the treeline before he managed to get a grip on the soil beneath him, hyphae streaming from his footpads and pushing deep to seek out every root and stone they could. His momentum slowed, then finally stopped as he found purchase in the earth. The tendril flicked and spasmed, furiously trying to throw him off but he would not let go.
The shining blade appeared above him. “No! No, don’t cut it!” he cried. “We have to…ungh…” he grunted as the tendril yanked especially hard, nearly tearing his arms from his body. He started inching forward again as his grip on the dirt began to give way. “We have to capture one!”
Raul caught up with them and threw his weight on top of Mycal. “Do what he says! He’s one of Aggie’s friends!” The woman looked around helplessly for a moment, then dropped her sword and grabbed Raul’s leg.
Grass ripped, roots broke and the earth gave way as Mycal’s hyphae were torn free. Raul’s boot slipped out of Louisa’s grip as man and mushroom were dragged into the dark, their cries devoured by the writhing forest closing in around them.