Shadows in the Trees: Book 1

Chapter 14

Rhiannon woke up to yellow sunlight filtering down through the leaves. Despite sleeping on dirt and grass, she felt more rested than she had in a very long time. She realized it was because, for the first time since she was a very small girl, she felt completely safe. She hadn't had to sleep with one eye open, wondering if she would wake up to assassins, or if she simply wouldn't wake up at all. She smiled, sat up, and stretched. She blinked for a moment, the warm embrace of safety fleeing her body. She screamed.

Jaida, resting a few feet away from her, bolted upright. "What? What is it?"

"The river! It's red!" Rhiannon cried, pointing to the stream. 

The water gleamed a vibrant red in the sunlight. It was not the orange-red of fire, but the deep, pure red of freshly spilled blood. Rhiannon's hands shook. Though she had witnessed executions before, she had never seen such an enormous volume of blood. Her stomach heaved, but it was pitifully empty, which kept her from vomiting. She looked to Jaida, whose tan skin had a pale cast to it.

"Was it like that last night?" Jaida asked, walking cautiously to the stream's bank. The stream babbled at her harmlessly.

"I don't remember, it was so dark," Rhiannon said, tiptoeing to the bank. Jaida knelt and cupped her hands, dipping them into the water. The water was the clearest she has ever seen; every line and callous on her palms was visible. She released the water and looked to the bottom.

"I think it's this," Jaida said, fishing a strand of furry red algae from the bottom of the stream. "Look, it covers the entire bed of the stream."

"Oh," Rhiannon said, laughing sheepishly. "For a moment -- from a distance -- it looked like a river of blood."

Jaida grimaced. "This forest is a strange place, although it doesn't live up to legend."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought it would have been much more perilous."

"This journey wasn't perilous enough for you?" Rhiannon laughed.

"No, it's just -- well, Thraelish aren't superstitious, but even we have heard stories of the White Forest and the horrors held within. Stories of strange lights, voices, trees that can walk. But so far, it's just been a forest. Perhaps the stories were just that."

"All stories are built from some truth," Rhiannon said. Jaida shrugged and turned back to the stream, splashing the cool water on her face.

"You know, we should really wash our clothes, my tunic smells of -- Rhiannon?" Jaida asked. She was nowhere in sight. "Rhiannon," Jaida called, running around the base of the tree. She had closed her eyes for a moment, just a moment. "Rhiannon!" There was pressure on the back of her neck, and then her vision faded to black. 

Jaida woke suddenly, taking a sharp breath. She pushed against the heaviness of her eyelids until they opened, and she immediately began cataloging her surroundings. She was lying on a smooth, damp floor. Rhiannon, she thought, panicked. Her fear settled when she saw Rhiannon to her left, lying on her side unconscious, her breaths slow and even. Jaida tried to reach for her, only to find that her hands were bound in front of her. She cursed, trying to shake the fogginess from her brain and think clearly, but whatever their kidnappers did to her neck had scrambled her head. Jaida had heard stories of warriors who knew how to exploit the weak points of the body, but she thought it was impossible. 

She scanned the room, but their captors were nowhere in sight. The room was irregularly shaped with rounded walls, almost as if they were in a cave. Jaida craned her neck and saw stalactites, white and waxy, poised above them, coating the ceiling. She was facing a large desk, covered in decorations, or maybe they were some sort of ritualistic tools or shrines, she couldn't tell. Rugs made of animal hair overlapped on the floor, and parchment scrolls and ancient-looking books were strewn everywhere, on the table, on the floor, on ledges in the wall. Blankets, or maybe clothes, were piled on a large chair. Jars filled with unfamiliar substances lay in clusters on the floor.

Jaida frowned. She couldn't understand how someone could live in such a mess. How would they ever be able to find anything in here? she thought. If her quarters had been like this at home, she would have been deprived of a meal, or perhaps forced to sprint up the hill to the Parliament. Sunlight was streaming into the room from somewhere she couldn't see, and candles and lanterns were scattered haphazardly across the room. Jaida pushed her foot against the ground and tried to sit upright, or at least spin so she could see more of the room, but the floor was too slippery. She heard footsteps, and she stilled, feigning sleep.

"I know you are awake," a voice said. Jaida opened her eyes, but no one was in sight.

"Show yourself," Jaida ordered. She heard giggling, shrill and musical.

"I knew you would be spirited. I will show myself to you, but you must promise not to scream." Jaida waited tensely. "Promise!"

"Alright, I um, promise," Jaida said. She barely heard footsteps as her captor walked around to face her. What she saw didn't register for a moment.

It was vaguely human, but it was too tall, its limbs too long. And its skin -- its skin was a mottled green and brown, like a tree covered in moss. It crouched down next to her, and despite herself Jaida flinched away. She noticed its eyes were a flat, dark brown, with no pupils, like a dog's.

"No scream, I'm impressed," it said. Its lips parted into a smile, revealing large canine teeth. "You are as fierce as they say."

"As who says?" Jaida asked, her voice quivering. She began praying to all the gods she didn't believe in.

"My confidants," it said, leaning toward her as if it was sharing a great secret with her.

"Do what you want with me," Jaida said. "But please, give her a quick death, while she sleeps if you can. Don't let her feel any pain."

"A quick --? Oh, oh no," it said, and it laughed its beautiful, terrible laugh. "We're not going to kill you. You are the ones we've been waiting for. We need you alive, very, very alive."