The Forked Path

Chapter 4

4

Shade sat alone high in the trees, squatting on a round, thick branch, watching the clumsy humans pass below him. They rattled and stomped and cursed, shoving branches out of their way as they moved, eyes forever shifting left and right, searching for some threat or victim to take out their nervous energy on. They stunk of sweat and fear.

But the treasures! So many glittering, colourful things, stark against the dull greens and browns of the forest, calling out to Shade to reach down for them, free them from their current resting places. He rubbed his fingertips together as he watched, rocking up on his toes, the thrill of anticipation tickling down the back of his spine.

It wouldn’t be long now until they stopped to rest at a clearing the Tangle opened up for such a purpose and surrendered to their fatigue. They would pitch their heavy tents and stoke their fires, cook their strangely scented meals and sleep deeply, far too deeply to notice little Shade passing among them, lightening them of what treasures called to him.

All he had to do was wait. Wait and watch and, when the time came, slip past the weary guards who patrolled the edge of their camp, eyes blind in the darkness, ears filled with the thousand strange shiftings and callings of the forest. Never hearing Shade’s furtive steps.

The last of the column moved past and Shade placed his palm against the trunk of the tree, closing his eyes and listening for the deep murmur just below hearing. It was like the treasures the soldiers carried, out of reach yet still calling to him, urging him onward.

He could almost grasp it, almost hold it in his mind, yet it slipped away again. All he caught was a glimpse of a clearing, a clear night sky, and a scattering of campfires burning low in the cool air.

Very well. He would follow them, let their clamour and noise lead him on his way.

From darkness to light.

Silent as night.

He dropped out of the tree and slipped effortlessly into the shadows, stepping around fallen roots and leaves, his feet almost floating above the forest floor so silently did he move. He kept his eyes up, trusting his instincts to stop him from stepping anywhere he shouldn’t. Now and then a glint of colour flashed out through the shifting leaves as he trailed along behind the soldiers.

‘How much farther, Ged?’ A panting, heavy voice. Husky with fatigue.

‘Can’t be long. Last glimpse of sky I seen looked grey, have to be almost twilight by now, not that you’d know it in this place. Sarge’s probably just waiting to find the right spot.’

‘Hope so. I’m done. Too much marching. Give me a real fight any day, not this wandering about.’

‘Don’t be so sure, Thron. You saw that village yesterday same as the rest of us. And you’ve seen the others. Don’t know anything that can do that. Don’t think I want to meet it anyways.’

‘My own damn fault for signing up in the first place, I suppose. Thought I’d get two hots and a cot and all the fighting my sword arm could want. Never thought it’d mean trudging around the Tangle. No good can come—’

‘Hold! You feel that? It’s ice cold.’

Shade immediately stopped, and only now realised he could see the two figures clearly in front of him, shining lights of life against a dull grey background. Past them stretched the whole column of men, at least twenty of them all turned toward the rear, toward him, weapons drawn and ready.

For a silent moment he felt himself pulled toward them, called onward by the glittering lights.

Then he fled, the forest a blur as he shot through it, away from the soldiers and their treasures, away from the shining figures of light. Away from the call that came from somewhere both without and within, urging him ever deeper.

Shade recognised the trap, a scattering of leaves somehow too randomly strewn across a bare stretch of path. The colour of the dirt was wrong as well, too dark compared to the rest of the packed earth, too loose and recently disturbed. The Others were getting bolder with their tricks, but not clever enough. Not for his eyes.

He stepped along the edge of the suspicious patch and passed around it, grabbed the nearest heavy rock his hand came to, and tossed it lightly over his shoulder to land smack in the centre of the path. As soon as it landed the ground itself seemed to open, a stretched and tanned hide folding in on itself as it collapsed into the pit below.

Shade edged up to the hole and peered in. Sure enough, multiple sharpened stakes lined the floor of the trap, shining strangely in the dim sunlight. Coated with something, some sort of poison. There were a thousand possibilities, and the Others knew all of them. As did Shade. Nurtle had taught him most of them, and the few really nasty ones she’d kept silent about he’d discovered in the heavy journals of knowledge she kept so carefully hidden in her cabin. Not carefully enough. Not from fingers as quick as his.

He lay on his stomach and leaned over into the pit, careful not to touch any of the spikes, eventually wresting out the thick hide that had fulfilled its part in the trap. It was heavy, coated in mud to help it blend with the ground, but not too worn and seemingly only a few weeks old, judging by its smell. He gave it one solid shake, scattering leaves everywhere, then balled it up as best he could and continued on his way.

Warmth from the cold,

For bones shrivelled and old.

He broke into a giggle at his little joke but immediately caught it. It wouldn’t do to add further insult to what the Others already put the Guardian through. That trap was another sign of their growing confidence in their little mischiefs. He didn’t want to be like them.

The hide would make a fine addition to the offerings. And who knew? Perhaps there would be a gift for him waiting in the secret knothole. Some sign. The forest was on edge these days, troubled as it had never been in Shade’s memory. Perhaps there would be something to show him the way.

Less than an hour later he drifted off the path he had been following, careful not to appear too sure of his surroundings, stepping through the shadows of the closely grouped trees, ears alert for any sign of danger. There was nothing. He was alone. Suddenly he ducked around the corner of the tree he was passing and seemed to completely disappear.

In reality, he dodged under an exposed root and slid down a short incline into his secret place: a small circular grove only a few feet wide, surrounded by an almost solid wall of thick trees. The sunlight seemed unwilling to intrude into the space, and Shade waited a full minute for his eyes to adjust before crouching at the base of one particularly large tree.

He lay the hide he had just discovered out on the ground and rummaged through the multiple secret pockets of his cloak. Moments later arranged neatly on the hide were a bright red sweat-stained kerchief, a goblet formed from dull silver, and the thin, sharp wire one of the Others had tried to hurt him with days before. Shade sat back on his haunches as he stared at the loot and nodded. A good haul.

With a sigh he wrapped the hide closed and stuffed the whole package deep into the knothole at the base of the tree, determined not to look at the treasures any longer. As he reached in, he tensed, as he always did, his fingertips electric for the touch of anything the Guardian may have left for him in return. Sometimes it was something simple, like a sweet fruit from the distant reaches of the Tangle. Other times it was more elaborate, like the strangely carved wooden mask he had found over a year ago that now adorned a wall in Nurtle’s hut. Most times there was nothing at all.

But today there was. Shade caught his breath as his fingers brushed across a thin cloth bundle. He let his hands tickle its surface, prolonging the tension, trying to form a picture of what it could be. Finally he gave in and grabbed it, pulling it free.

It was a dull, dirty green cloth, rolled tightly, held in place by a simple loop of twisted wood. For a moment Shade felt a pang of disappointment, then shook his head and held the prize up to the light. There was something carved into the coiled wood. Words of some sort. As his fingers moved across the clasp, it seemed to come to life and sprung open, toppling the cloth to the floor.

He turned the opened clasp back and forth in the dim light, trying to make out the words scratched into it. As he recognised the characters, his lips moved automatically, the power in the words forcing themselves to be heard.

Future and past entwined.

The surrounding forest dropped into instant silence, and he stood perfectly still in the hush, waiting until the first scratchings and shufflings of the trees filled the air again. It was as though the forest had caught its breath at his words and was only now slowly exhaling.

He looked back at the clasp. As though the words themselves had unwound it, it was now three separate long threads, sticks really, nothing special about them. He dropped the twigs to the floor, and they seemed to disappear into the scattered refuse of the forest.

Shade nodded to himself. That treasure’s job was done, whatever that job had been. The real gift must be the green cloth.

As soon as he grabbed it he knew he was right. A spark of familiarity lit his fingertips as he touched it, and raising it up from the ground he could see it was a cloak, just his size of course, lighter and richer by far than the worn cloak he currently wore. He hurried out of his old garment and slipped the prize over his shoulders, feeling it wrap itself around his shoulders.

Immediately he heard them. The Others, whispering to each other, giggling and scheming. Impossibly close. He dropped to the ground and scuttled as far into the shadows of the trees as he could, desperately hoping for the voices to pass by and leave him undisturbed. How had they snuck up on him?

Well, it’s about time, I say.

Time has nothing to do with it. Action is what matters.

He’s old and weak. That’s what matters.

But only one of us can replace him. You know the rules. You know what the forest asks.

You heard it just as clear as me. He’s done it. Must be desperate to use a kid like that.

We’re all kids. And if you’re right, he can probably hear us right now. That’s how it was when he chose me.

And you failed just like the rest of us. Just like he will. Isn’t that right, Shade?

Shade froze in place, all senses on edge as the voices called to him. Without thinking he dove into himself, dropping into the shadow realm where all life stood starkly against the shifting grey background. He scanned the area, turning a full circle to seek any lights of life. There was nothing. He was alone.

Ah, leave him be. Let the challenge do its work.

And just like that, the voices ceased.