Shadows in the Trees: Book 1

Chapter 48

"What past was she talking about?" 

"I'm not sure," Freya said. "I don't really have any mysteries in my past." 

"What about your father? You never knew who he was, right?" 

"I know who my father was. He was a random villager my mother bedded and left," Freya said. "Nothing special." 

"Right, but you never met him," Malik said. 

"No," Freya conceded. 

Though she was curious about her father, it wasn't uncommon for Jentsi to have single parents, or many parents, or two fathers or two mothers. Family was a loose term for Jentsi, and it didn't always mean blood. Though she wondered what he must have looked like, and what she inherited from him, and what he was doing now, her father wasn't her family. And her family was all that mattered to her in the end. 

"What about your mother? Maybe it's something from her past?" he said. 

"She did always seem like she was running from something," Freya said. "She read my cards obsessively." 

"Cards? The ones you kept hidden under the floorboard?" he asked. She nodded. 

Her mother had a beautiful set of hand-painted cards, each with a different symbol. The cards could be read in various patterns, to tell the future, the past, or the present. Though they could have exposed them as Jentsi if they had been found, her mother couldn't bear to part with them. They kept them hidden in the attic room they shared. Freya felt sick, thinking of the cards buried in the floor of the grimy tavern. They were all she had left of her mother. She promised herself she'd go back for them one day. 

"What did the cards say?" he asked. She didn't need to turn and look at his face to know he was uncomfortable. Jentsi customs seemed to have that effect on people. 

"My mother would never tell me specifics," she said. "Only that they predicted a destiny. A destiny she desperately wanted to keep me from." 

"And you never got her to tell you what it was?" 

"Believe me, I tried. I even asked Yaya, but she told me it was between my mother and I. Once --" she stopped, realizing she didn't hear his footsteps behind her anymore. She turned. Malik had stilled and was listening intently. 

"Do you hear that?" he asked. Freya listened, but she heard nothing. 

Suddenly, Malik whistled a short tune. After a moment, he laughed gleefully. His eyes were bright and excited, and he looked as though all of his troubles had been lifted away. He whistled again, this time adding a trill to the end of the notes. 

"What are you doing? I don't hear anything," Freya said, fear pooling in her stomach. 

Then, she heard it. A singsong whistle, the same tune that Malik had called, coming from somewhere in the forest. 

"Come on!" he said, giggling. "Let's follow it!" 

"Malik, no --" she said as he scampered off of the trail. "Wait! Stay on the trail!" she cried, running after him. 

She nearly crashed into him when he stopped to whistle again. She faced him, grabbing his shoulders.

"Oi, you're hurting me," he said, struggling to free himself from her grasp. 

"Malik. Malik! Look at me," she said, shaking him. 

"Let me go!" he said. He kicked her shin and she cried out, releasing him as she doubled over.

"No!" she cried, chasing after him. 

They reached a clearing circled with small, pale mushrooms, and Malik stopped and whistled. Something whistled back, the sound deafening in the quiet forest.