I hurtled headlong into the grove, careening through a chaos of tilted slabs of hardened soil, broken branches, willows dislodged and uprooted by the giant hemlocks. Karla writhed in the gravel, her arms and legs ensnared tightly in cords of pulsing gel.
Her face alit when she saw me coming for her. “James!”
I tripped and stumbled, skittering across the gravel on my knees, crawling the last few feet to her side. I crouched over her, my eyes inches from hers, disbelieving.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. I just can’t move. This stuff … it’s squishing me.”
I tugged at her binds, but they slithered and melted away from my fingers, snapping free of my grip.
Our eyes caught, her pupils penetrating. Chills went swarming through me. I couldn’t believe I was here beside her.
I swooped down and kissed her, swimming in the scent of her hair, her breath hot against my cheek. “I missed you so much,” I mumbled, sobbing.
“Are you alright?” she said, as my tears spilled onto her cheek. “I mean, on the other side?”
I sat up and sighed. “Your father has me. He’s got me locked up.”
Something died in her eyes. “Where?”
“I don’t know. Some church basement somewhere.”
“But where? Glasgow?”
“I’m not sure. He drugged me. The place … it’s like a dungeon. What about you? I hope you’re safe?”
“We are in Brynmawr. At Renfrew’s farm.”
“Oh my God! Really? You mean, if I had just stayed put—?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck!”
Something groaned and rustled at the base of one of the giant hemlocks.
“That creature!” said Karla. “It’s alive. Help me get this gunk off of me.”
“She got Bern, too. He’s back there, somewhere.”
“I’m right behind you,” said Bern, about ten paces back.
“Are you okay?”
“You worry about Karla; I can take care of myself.”
I took the point of my sword and worked it carefully under one of the strands. It sliced through without much resistance, but the severed ends immediately re-annealed.
I repeated the action, this time grabbing on before it could melt back to together. I unwound several feet of it, freeing Karla’s arm.
When it started to wind back around her, I slashed it free. The severed segment whipped around like a headless snake before disintegrating into ashes.
“Something tells me this stuff isn’t made of roots.”
“These creatures,” said Karla. “What are they?”
I peeled the rest of the goop from Karla and tossed it onto a bush. It slithered away and slinked off into the shadows.
Bern came hobbling up, his Ghillie suit denuded of leaves, looking like a plucked chicken. A thick cummerbund of gelatinous coils swelled his midriff.
“Bern! How did you get free?”
“I’m not exactly free, am I lad? The damn stuff is pressing on my bladder. And I can hardly breathe.”
