Sember (Forestfolk, Book 2)

Chapter 9

“This isn’t happening. I thought my children were smarter than this.”

“Ma, I already explained it to you. We have to go.” Goben and I were laden with supplies on our backs, and we stood at the edge of Foresthome. A small crowd had followed us to see us off, while my parents tried everything they could think of to convince us to stay.

Now they watched with interest as Ma continued to plead her case. “There are other, more qualified people who can go.”

I planted my hands on my hips. “And what makes them more qualified? Their age?”

“Well, yes! They’re more experienced.” She elbowed Pa. “Tell her!”

He stepped forward. “Sember, adults have dealt with more situations in their lifetime. They’re better equipped to handle things.”

I lifted my chin. “Goben’s an adult now.”

They both shot accusatory looks at him, like this was his idea, and he gave them a guilty smile. “Uh, Sember’s right.”

Ma’s eyes hardened. “You are both my children, and I forbid you to go!”

“Ma . . . ”

“Don’t Ma me! You are wandering out into unknown lands to find some mysterious cave that one addled person told you about—”

“Hey, I’m not addled.” Dozan puffed his chest out indignantly.

Ma didn’t stop. “A cave containing something described only as evil. You are both crazy to go. I refuse to be robbed of both my children at once.”

“You know, when she puts it like that . . . ” Goben’s foot slid toward them.

“Shush!” I elbowed him hard. “We talked about this!”

“Right. Okay.” He straightened his stance. “It’s our choice.”

Ma turned to Siena, who stood next to Remi and Galen, watching the drama unfold. “Dear Siena, please talk some sense into my daughter.”

Distress and sorrow swirled in Siena’s blue eyes. “I’m sorry. This seems to be the only lead we have. And as much as I want to, I can’t be the one to go. I’m needed here more.”

“Galen?” Ma took his hand in hers. “You can actually fight. Shouldn’t you be the one to go?”

The tall man placed a comforting hand on Ma’s shoulder. “In any other situation, I would take their places in a heartbeat, but there is great unrest in the tribes. The plague has made them fearful, and I sense they may come here with violence in mind. Either with questions, or . . . ” His eyes drifted to Siena. “For solutions. I need to stay.”

Ma shook her head and stepped away from him, then faced the small group of onlookers. “Any of you! I’ll give you all that we have if you’ll just . . . ”

Eyes turned away, and some even retreated back to their dwellings.

“Cowards!” Ma’s hands formed fists. “All of you are cowards!”

“Ma, stop this!” I conjured a large ball of flame and slammed it at my feet with a noisy FOOM. “I’m not exactly helpless.”

She jumped at the sound.

“I finally have a chance to do something other than start cooking fires and putting bees to sleep. I can do something positive with my gift! We need to track down the source of this plague. I can do this. I know this because I have to succeed. For me, there is no other choice.”

At this, Ma burst into tears, her frail shoulders shaking. Pa circled an arm around her, his own eyes misting.

My heart wrenched, and my resolve nearly crumbled. I was doing this to save them, and here I was hurting them. I closed the distance between us and threw my arms around them. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I plan on coming back, I promise.”

Her grip around me tightened as she sobbed, and it took all my strength not to change my mind right then.

Goben wrapped us in his long arms. “I’ll look out for her, Ma. And she’ll look out for me. We’re a good team.”

“Just come home, do you hear me?” Her voice was a tremulous whisper. “Both of you come home, or so help me, I will track you down and spank you myself.”

This got us laughing, and when we finally broke apart, the tension had eased considerably.

Nirrin chose that moment to approach. “I am so jealous of you guys. You get to go on adventures, while I’m stuck here”—she cupped a hand beside her mouth and dropped to a whisper—“tending the wild animals.”

I poked her shoulder. “You like those wild animals.”

“I’d still trade it for a chance to see the world outside of Foresthome. To meet new people. Invent things. Maybe find love.” She turned her brown eyes to Goben. “You know what I mean?”

“Er, well, sure. Yeah. Inventing things would be great.” Goben’s halting reply reminded me of a drowning piglet.

Nirrin babbled some more, but I finally understood something about her: This was her defense mechanism. Behind the bubbly enthusiasm, she was sad I was leaving, and worried I might never come back.

The most difficult goodbye was, of course, Siena. I was thankful we had reconciled yesterday, but it sort of made the farewell even harder. She promised to watch over my parents, and I assured her that I would come back in one piece.

I’d never had so many hugs in one day. Part of me wanted to stay longer and soak up more of the love, but we had to get moving before we lost too much daylight. Dozan had said it would take roughly two weeks, following a fairly straight path, to get to the village in the north. He also mentioned a tribe compound about halfway, which would give us a good indication of how far along we were.

With packs on our backs laden with food, water, bedding, and supplies, we began our journey north through the forest. Remi joined us for part of the trek, claiming he was going to hunt in this direction anyway.

“It’s hard leaving everyone, isn’t it?” he commented.

We both nodded. “We’ve never left Foresthome before,” Goben said. “It feels a little strange.”

“The first few days will be the hardest, but you’ll get your journey feet soon enough.”

“Journey feet?” I said quizzically.

Remi smiled, which gave his face a boyish quality. “It’s what I call that turning point during your first expedition. In the beginning, your feet will often want to turn you around and take you home. You might even feel homesick. But after a few days, you realize it’s not so bad, and that what lies ahead of you is just as important as what lies behind you. At that point, your newfound journey feet will confidently carry you forward.”

“I like that,” I said. “I’m going to remember that.”

Goben kicked a pinecone. “I think I might already be homesick.”

I pushed his arm so that he lurched sideways as we walked.

“Hey!” Goben said with mock indignation. “I’d like to get there in one piece, if you don’t mind. Any tips for us, Remi, as we march off to our possible doom?”

“Trust your instincts,” he replied. “If you are ever in doubt, that little voice inside can help you.”

“You hear that, Sember? It’s okay to hear voices in my head.” Goben laughed.

I laughed too, grateful for the levity.

Remi walked with us for the hours it took to reach the northern tree line, whereupon he bade us farewell with one hug each. As he headed back in the other direction, I called out, “Keep her safe!”

“I will,” he replied, knowing I meant Siena, and then vanished among the trees.

We stared after his retreating back long after he had disappeared. Now it was just the two of us. We knew the forest inside and out, but had not once set foot outside it since moving to Foresthome.

“Well,” Goben turned to me and said, “it’s just you and me, kid.”

I noticed a slight shiver run through him. I wasn’t sure if it was nerves or the chilly wind. I had no idea how much the trees of our forest protected us from these elements. We looked out across the wide expanse of plains yawning before us. It looked endless. The grass was mostly yellow, with a few hints of green here and there. A few hills rolled across the distance, but for the most part it was flat.

We walked. I definitely did not have the journey feet that Remi talked about. My feet wanted to turn around and run home to the lake. “It’s so weird not to be surrounded by trees,” I murmured.

“I know,” Goben said. “It’s like . . . ”

For once, he didn’t have a clever reply. His eyes just kept gawking at the vast nothingness in front of us. The sky was as enormous as the plain, and I got dizzy straining to see something in the horizon where the two met. So we walked in silence, putting one foot in front of the other, not quite believing what we had set out to do.