The Oak Hotel - Watty Awards 2013 Finalist

Chapter Seven - Te'hæra Thorn

Chapter Seven

Te'hæra Thorn

As they neared the entrance of the city, Lincoln noticed Kayleigh’s attention move back down the hill toward that odd, dark blur. Whatever it was, it definitely bothered her.

“What makes you think it’s a tree?” he asked.

She didn’t answer at first, though her pace quickened. “It just kind of came to me like remembering a bad dream. I don’t know why. I just don’t want to be anywhere near it.”

“Maybe it’s tied to the fact that you came through the tree so easily,” Lincoln said, shuddering at the memory of his own pain.

Not stopping, she turned and threw a very un-Kayleigh like look at him. It said, “Don’t push me, Lincoln. I know I’m acting weird, but get over it.” Not only had Lincoln experienced pain in the transfer, but it had taken him a few extra hours to make the transit. There had to be a reason.

They slowed as they reached the crest of the hill, aware of the lack of sound. It was not the silence, however, that caused them to finally stop. The front gate, a tall and elaborate affair, stood wide open. Nothing was locked or secured.

A breeze pushed through the open area, brushing insistently against them as they stood and stared.

“I thought there would be tons of trees here. Like the one back in the woods,” Lincoln said softly.

“You mean Kafír?” Kayleigh asked.

“Yes. Didn’t it say—”

“She. Kafír is a she.”

“Okay, fine. Didn’t she say that she could carry us anywhere a singing oak once stood?”

Kayleigh nodded. “That’s true.”

“So there must have once been a singing oak somewhere close to where we came out.”

Kayleigh turned to face the empty valley at her back. The dark form that caused her skin to crawl was now obscured behind the mound of the nearest hill. She concentrated now on the shape of the great valley. Rectangular. Nearly symmetrical. Again, she felt that something was out of place. Or, perhaps, misplaced.

“You know what,” Lincoln began, “Isn’t it strange that Autumn Harbor has so many oak trees.”

Kayleigh turned to face him, repeating the words so many old-timers loved to tell tourists. “Over 90 percent of all the trees in our town are oaks. It’s Autumn Harbor’s claim to fame.”

“We even have an Oak Festival downtown every September. There’s got to be some kind of connection.”

For the first time since they arrived, Kayleigh smiled. It was a small smile to be sure (curling slyly at the left corner of her lips) but it was there.

“Can I see that first note again?” she asked.

Lincoln pulled it from his pocket and handed it to her.

Unfolding it, she scanned the writing once more:

Link On and Kay Lee

Please come to me

My soul is captive

Ka Tolerates

Our destination

Hellward Kottabos

“Before we even went through that book in my grandparents’ house,” Kayleigh began, her voice electrified, “someone here knew about us. We’re connected to these two worlds.”