Leaving Laurabelle Falls

Chapter 6

"Nobody is trying to hide anything from you." Sam piped up. They pushed their blonde hair back, tucking it squarely behind their ear. "I promise. We just don't want you to have to go through this."

I knew better than to ask.

I glanced back towards Bethany, and her eyes were wet. She shut them, and a thin line of water clung to her lids. I immediately felt remorse rise up in my throat, but couldn't seem to let it out.

"Okay." I said, sitting back. I turned towards the window, and shut my eyes.

~~~

The drive to get to the treehouse was longer than the walk to get to the meeting point, and longer than I think it would have taken to get back to the room I had woken up in, even if we were walking.

A couple of times, Deacon opened the window leading back to all of us. "You guys doing okay?" He'd ask, as the sound of the horse's hooves hitting the dirt amplified.

"We're managing." Torrent would respond. Bethany was eerily quiet the rest of the journey.

Behind him, I could see fields of cattle and goats and sheep. A couple of horses, once. Crops.

The last time he turned back, he caught onto the somber tone.

"We're going all the way this time, aren't we?" He asked, his voice suddenly reserved.

"We think so." Torrent responded. She didn't sound too happy, either.

Still, the riding was rhythmic. The tension slowly dissipated, and the sounds and rhythm of the trip lulled everyone into a trancelike calm. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe slowly, telling myself that questions would have answers eventually.

The wagon came to a stop. I perked up as I heard Deacon's boots hitting the ground, and soon, he pulled open the door. The sun had sunk low in the sky and the gray of twilight was muting the colors of the field behind him. In the distance, I could see the orange of the force-field fluctuating, now a more muted yellow color. The crickets sang.

"It looks like we're here." Deacon said.

I stepped out of the carriage and onto the dirt road.

I turned around to see the largest cluster of thick, interwoven trees I had ever seen. They looked ancient. The trunks of some of them were thicker than my living room. Some had cozy doors at the bottom, hollowed out with a soft amber light illuminating the shade.

Others had ladders leading straight up, and I could see houses-- treehouses large enough for families-- built around and cradled by the branches. Rope swinging bridges connected several. To the left, there was mine.

The sanded wood of the steps looked just like I had seen in my mind.

I snapped out of my awe and walked towards it with determination.

"...Nobody thinks we should stop her, right?" I heard Deacon ask. I didn't hear any response, too busy focusing on the task at hand.

I had a book to find.

I marched up the steps, reaching out to grab firmly at the handrail as I walked up. The wind blew strands of hair in my face, but I didn't need to see to know the way. When I reached the top, the circular door was unlocked. I turned the handle, and it swung open.

There was a light to my right, sitting on a little table. The light was floating in a little lantern, disconnected from any power source. I could just see the beginning of a staircase carved directly into the tree.

There was a coat rack and a small kitchenette to my right, connected to one of the rope bridges. I felt an eerie recognition, even though I hadn't seen this far in the half-memories I had.