The Sisters of Nowhere

t h i r t y - s i x : f l y i n g

Marigold's feet crunched against the gravel leading up to the Best's farmhouse. It looked older, somehow, as it sat empty beneath the moonlight. The whitewashed wood seemed even more chipped than it already was, the porch saggier, and the windows more smeared with grime.

"Ready?" Silas asked, appearing a few feet away.

Marigold tore her gaze away from the farmhouse, away from the blood still staining the steps, and said, "I'm ready."

Silas was bluish at night, which made his eyes look particularly dazzling and otherworldly.

She still wasn't sure what he was planning to do in the forest, but he seemed like he had a plan. That was more than Marigold could say.

For the first time, she realized that it would've been wiser to have one of her sisters with her. It occurred to her that it was rather unsafe to walk into a magical forest with a murdered ghost unaccompanied.

It was too late to go back now, so they climbed the fence and went into the forest.

Marigold had entered Gwydyr several times since Wyatt's disappearance but was surprised that she felt more at ease with Silas by her side this time.

Maybe it was because he knew the forest and it, apparently, knew him too. She was in his home, his world, and didn't feel so much like a trespasser.

For the first time, she saw the beauty of the forest, and for a while, they simply walked along the mossy pathway and marveled at it.

Each tree was perfect, without a shard of bark missing or a branch broken. Some of the oaks sprawled out several feet, arching downwards until the thick branches rested on the ground.

Even in the darkness of the night, there was something golden about Gwydyr--a shimmer of radiance that Marigold couldn't quite place.

"It's not so bad, is it?" Silas said. "It tends to scare people off. But it's just particular who it lets in."

"So does it have a conscience?" Marigold asked quietly. She was always worried she'd offend the forest if she spoke too loudly.

"Sure," Silas replied. "Most things do."

"But I mean; is it sentient? Does it have a mind, a heart?"

Silas thought about it for a long time. "I guess you'll just have to see for yourself."

Marigold sighed--half in frustration, half with resignation. They kept walking.

As they made their way down the nonexistent pathways, Marigold stole another glance at Silas.

She itched with dozens of questions, but the ones at the front of her mind had to do with Silas's death. How could she possibly ask such questions? So I heard your father killed you? What was that like?

But she was curious. He'd only been seven-years-old when it happened and he'd grown up in this mysterious place. What had he seen or experienced?

She also wondered what was so special about Gwydyr that Hal stooped to such disturbing levels to gain entrance inside. So far, the forest was wild to be sure, but it didn't grant kingdoms or money or immortality. At least, she didn't think it did.

"I didn't know it was him," Silas said.

Had he been reading Marigold's mind? She asked, "What do you mean?"

"I didn't really know it was my own father who killed me," Silas continued. His hard-edged glare was back, threatening the trees and everything around him. There was something dangerous, not vulnerable, about him just then and Marigold wondered how so much anger could be stored up in one person. She didn't blame him.