Ashley Pemburtton rode the back of her father's wagon idly kicking the underside of the bed with her heels as she watched the dark forest slide by. Their large wagon bounced and jostled along the weed-clogged track that rarely saw travelers this time of year. Every turn of the wheels filled the air with the fresh scent of crushed plants.
She rolled a pinecone from hand to hand while her eyes shifted between shadows at the track's edges.
Her dad had insisted she get some rest while the sun still hung in the sky. And she'd tried, cuddled in beside her mom who, even now, slumbered in the back tucked between all their worldly possessions on top of a few sacks of root vegetables but couldn’t, because the noise from Rufus’ hooves and the creaking of the wagon's axles kept jarring her awake.
It didn't help that every time she looked up the forest loomed, casting a gloom that made her eye the trees and brush with apprehension under their oppressive weight.
When her friends had learned her family would be traveling through the Dryad preserve. They had regaled her with all the terrible tales they'd heard of the place. Of the zombies, ghosts, ghouls, dryads, and vicious animals that called it home.
She remembered boldly declaring her father would have no problem dealing with a few undead, he was a guard after all. But now their words and laughter haunted her as they drew further into the silent woods.
Even the birds fear this place.
She discovered that trying not to think about Sarah and Jolie's tales was making her think about them even more. Ma said Dryads ruled the preserve and they left the travelers that stayed on the road alone. We're protected as long as we don't break the rule or cause harm to the forest. It was only those that wandered too deep or caused harm, that had to fear the wrath of the spirits of the wood, she reminded herself.
Dropping the cone, she wrung her tail in her hands and fixed her gaze on the trees as they passed. A fleeting fantasy took her, with images of the looming titans uprooting and attacking like treants.
She let out a dramatic sigh and lay back to stare at the branches passing overhead when she finally lost the energy to keep her vigilance.
Da will keep us safe. He has a Soldier class and even a few Pyth abilities, like power-attack and shield-other.
"Go to sleep Ash," her mom mumbled from beside her.
"Yeah," she agreed without much confidence while she listened to the creaking of the axle and thump of the wheels against the occasional rock or root in the trail.
She watched the sun-dappled tops of the enormous trees for long minutes, entranced by the pretty colors before the boredom overcame her and the elusive sleep claimed her.
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A very large bump pulled her abruptly from her rest and she stared into the branches overhead for a long moment before craning her head to look at the front of the wagon to see what had caused the disturbance.
She could only catch the top of her father's head from where she lay and It took her a few further seconds to realize they had stopped.
Curious she rolled over to see why and opened her mouth to ask her da but stopped short with a choke.
What she saw at the front of their wagon made her heart rise into her throat and a cold sweat break down her spine.
Blood.
Blood coated her father's back. Blood leaked in a steady stream from the heads of two vicious-looking arrowheads that had punched clean through his armored chest. Blood soaked the bench he sat on.
Ashley blinked, trying to remove the impossible image, but when she focused, her father remained slumped sideways on the drivers' bench with two arrows sticking out of his back.
Blood trickled down the shafts, onto the bench then dropped into the bed of the wagon and onto the trunk filled with her mother's clothes. As she watched, her mind uncomprehending, the blood slowed from a trickle to a hesitant pause between drips.
Her heart restarted with one painful beat... then another. She tried to scream, but nothing would come out. Her mouth seemed full of chalk, opening and closing a few times like a beached fish.
Her mother still snored away beside her, completely unaware and she glanced down at her in disbelief. How is she not awake? She wondered.
“Ah, looky what we have here, Nathan. A bit-o-fun, and a pint-size we can give to your brother. You know he likes the little ones,” a voice said from behind her.
The voice jolted her from her paralysis and she screamed, diving for her mother. The sudden impact woke her mom, who took only moments to garner their situation and grip her tight, placing Ashley behind her.
“We can sell her to my bastard brother," a new voice agreed haughtily. "But not before we have our fun. It was a nice shot, Clint. If I were a betting man, and I am, I'd say he didn’t even notice he was dead until Luminous collected him.” The voice came from near Rufus.
“Bah, it was nothing, my lord. It's just a peasant family. At most, we’ll get some dust from the old man and a little coin for the half-breed. The rest of this stuff is shit and the woman is too old for more than a little fun,” came from the first followed by the sounds of him digging through their belonging.
“You have to admit, she's not bad for a cat.” The haughty smacked his lips.
"I still think this was a bad idea. We have orders to wait for the others to return. Not attack travelers or..." a third man said from the treeline.
"Graventy can shove his orders," Haughty cut him off. "It could be weeks before he's done. Don't be such a worrywart Yves. In fact, you can have seconds with the mother."
"Pass," the man in the trees said.
Ashley hissed at the second man when he began digging through her trunk beside her and the surprisingly well-dressed man looked up to meet her gaze with his flat uncaring eyes and a wicked smile.
“Shut the brat up or she'll be first and I'll make you watch," he commanded in a stern voice.
"Shush," her mom cooed, rubbing her face with her cheek then she pulled Ashley tight and put her mouth to her ear.
Ashley's heart was hammering in her chest and she feared it might escape at any moment. She nearly missed her mother's whispered words over its persistent sound.
“When I tell you, you run. You run as hard and as fast as you can, dear. You don’t look back. You hide when you get tired. Get to Portheel, go to the sisters of Luminous,” her mother said with hopeful desperation. “Do you understand?”
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Ashley nodded against her mother's chest.
"I love you no matter what. Always remember that... I love you..." her mom choked on her words and crushed her in a desperate hug.
“Graventy is an ass for ditching us here. These are the first travelers in a long time. It's boring," the first man said emphatically.
"We're making sure no one interrupts father's plan. Yarrow's crew has been working here for weeks. People know it's dangerous by now. That's the point you idiot," the clear leader of the small group said with exasperation.
“At least we have better food now. I'm sick of tack and salt pork," said the first man who'd joined the leader in digging. His words were accompanied by loud chewing.
Ashley took a quick glance at each of the men then buried her face in her mother's breast again.
“Alright, out you come," the man with the bow said from the foot of the wagon's bed.
Ashley's feet wouldn't move and her ma picked her up before shuffling to the end of the box.
As her mother stepped down, she lurched and fell sideways into the bowman yelling, “go," while giving Ashley a firm push.
Ashley took off on all fours, her arms and legs pumping as hard as she could manage. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she left her ma behind.
“Not so fast kiddo,” tree man, Yves, said and she felt something grab her from behind, scooping her from the ground with one swooping motion.
She kicked and screamed at the top of her lungs fighting the man who held her with tooth and claw, biting and raking desperately with the claws on her feet.
She'd almost struggled free when a blow rocked the side of her head and the world went white with pain then knew no more.
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Ashley woke with her head pounding like her dad was using it as a block to chop wood. It took her long minutes to force her crusty eyes open against the hammering spike.
She tried to shift to ease it further but when she did new pain radiated from her arms and legs and she whimpered. They burned with an intense fire, and as she struggled to move, she found her hands and feet were bound tightly behind her.
Tears leaked steadily from the corners of her eyes, the only source of relief against a world of pain.
I'm tied up like a goat to be sacrificed, she reasoned in a brief moment of clarity that surprised her.
She tried looking around to see what was happening but couldn’t see anything except the ferns in front of her.
The movement made her head swim with dizziness and she vomited, bile coating the ground beside her.
“Shit, Yves, did you have to hit the girl so hard? Graventy won’t pay shit for her if she's mind-touched,” a voice said before she felt a hand grab her shoulder and roughly turn her over.
All she saw were a pair of blurry boots.
“She’s fine, look she's awake now. Way I see it brat had it coming. She scratched my arm up pretty bad,” Yves said.
"Not as bad as her mother did me," the voice replied with a put-upon groan.
“That’s your own damn fault. You're lucky she didn't rip your throat out. Trying to have a go before collaring or binding her. You're a moron.”
The dizziness and pain caused by trying to focus on their words made Ashley's vision swim again and she vomited once more.
“Fuck! You little brat!” Yves cursed and one of the now vomit-covered boots drew back.
“Don’t! She’s tied up already, besides it’s your fault for hitting her so damn hard,” the first voice tempered.
“Fine," Yves said and snorted up a large spitball that took several seconds.
Ashley felt the phlegm hit the side of her face and slowly roll down to her chin onto her neck. She shook from revulsion and the pungent smell of her own puke.
Then the boots left her vision, revealing her mother and her mind stuttered.
Her mom's eyes were staring at her unblinking like the cows did when her father did the winter butchering, and Ashley choked, another dribble of mucus trickling from the corner of her mouth adding to the significant pile her head rested in.
Then she whimpered, removing her eyes from her mother's face, and looked down.
Her mother's dress was... her mother was.
No.
She squeezed her eyes shut, denying the horrible vision, and a sob puckered her lips. She started weeping, the tears quickly becoming a steady stream as the sobs wracked her whole body, making her bonds add another pain to the anguish in her soul.
She soon pretended the ropes and ground were her mothers' arms holding her tight, comforting her as she cried.
She spent hours weeping before she fell into an exhausted and fitful slumber.
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When she woke again night had fallen and two of the men were sitting with their backs to a fire that crackled and spat before her.
Her mother's body had been moved and she cautiously looked around. The throbbing in her head had fallen to a muddy ache and her mouth and throat were dry.
She lay there staring at the fire, unable to move, and listened to the forest around her.
Bugs chirped and buzzed, filling the woods with their calming sounds. Then she heard something else. Something foreign to the woods but somehow right.
A haunting voice sang a song of longing and sorrow.
At first, she thought she dreamt it but then slowly it became clearer. And with the clarity, she discovered she couldn’t understand the sad words.
Then the beautiful voice changed, and the new song began to fill in the missing sounds of the forest, lending it a calming tranquility.
An instrument joined the liquid tones.
Ashley had never heard it's like from the bards when they’d visited Mrs. Denise's tavern or the few men who came for the winter festivals. The new instrument had a sharp and crisp sound that paired the haunting voice flawlessly.
Ashley's heart hammered against her throbbing skull when she realized what music in this forest meant.
A desperate, vicious, hope bloomed. Maybe she'll kill the men first?
Tears started to flow again as she wept for her parents, but she kept her eyes wide and waited for the inevitable.
The forest punishes those that stray, she thought with malicious glee, condemning the men to the deepest hells in her mind as she waited for the end.
“Do you hear that?” A voice asked nearby.
“Hear what? All I hear is the brat's crying,” Yves asked with a shuffling noise.
“The singing.”
“Singing... Have you lost your wits, Clint? Everyone knows the Dryads in this forest are old wives' tales. There’re barely any living critters in these woods for them to protect if there were. And no one would be traveling at this hour.”
“Still... Should I wake the others?” Clint asked.
“Sure, you go ahead and tell Nathan you’re hearing wood spirits singing in the night,” Yves scoffed and the pair fell quiet.
Ashley continued to cry for a long time her eyes fixed on the forest. Her ears twitched as she took comfort in the gentle soothing music while her sobs hid the music from the humans around the fire.
Shadows started to shift in the trees and her mind stuttered to a stop, halting her sobs. As though the brush and vines at the edge of the clearing were alive they began swaying back and forth to the music. She looked closer. Yes, they were growing thicker and weaving into their neighbors. Both dread and a snarling hope filled her as they drew closer.
"Finally, I thought she'd never stop," Clint sighed.
"Shhh, you don't want to wake her," Yves admonished in a hoarse whisper.
Oh, Ilunne please let the Dryad be merciful for my trespass, Ashley pleaded the Goddess of the forest. Closing her eyes tight on leaking tears while she waited for the end.
For a long time nothing happened, then the music became louder and more evident; filling the forest with its majesty.
Then the tone and beat grew more forceful.
"You can't tell me you don't hear that," Clint said.
Choking gurgles and the sound of feet pounding in desperate terror on the ground beat a rhythm out of the darkness before anyone answered.
“Yeah, shi...” Yves swore, before cutting off.
“Hey, beautiful. Come for a little fun?” Clint’s voice drawled in a husky voice.
“Always my dear. Fun's my middle name,” A silky-smooth voice said followed by a strange gurgling sound. The music changed then, taking on an even more pronounced beat like a wooden drum.
There was a bunch of rustling sounds and more groaning before the music finished and silence fell.
The men made not a sound.
Her curiosity overcoming her fears, Ashley opened one puffy eye to see what was happening.
An indistinct figure stood over the still forms of the men who had sat before the fire.
When the person turned and Ashley caught the women's gaze a shock went through her. Oh, Ilunne, she’s so beautiful! she thought, terror, mixing with awe in her belly.
The stately woman tilted her head to one side and studied Ashley for a long moment. Then to Ashley's shock, she saw tears flowing from the woman’s eyes. Dryads can cry?
“Oh, you poor thing!” The woman said, letting go of her tall staff to kneel beside Ashley. The woman started gently fiddling with her bonds.
To Ashley's shock, the staff stayed standing where the lady had left it and Ashley gaped at it in wonder. A magical item!
The lady scowled at the bindings. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt like a bitch. Those dick-eating rapist bastards tied these too tight and cut off your fucking circulation... I’m really sorry about this," the Lady said, pulling a large dagger from her belt before cutting her bonds with a few quick motions.
Ashely immediately felt pins and needles in her hands and feet and groaned with pain as she stared at the woman.
She was shocked beyond belief by the foul language that had spewed from the woman’s mouth. Ma would kill me if I talked like that! she thought.
Then she broke into body-wracking sobs again when the hollowness of her new world came crashing down.
She cried all the harder once the pins and needles turned into intense burning pain.
The strange woman gathered her into her lap and held her tight, letting her cry, and soothing her with back rubs while singing in her strange haunting language.