"Please, wake up." The voice broke through the fog, unknown and yet so familiar.
I cracked my eyes open. A man knelt next to me, his brown suit neat, red bow tie centered. His brown hair combed to the side, slick and formal, his large eyes kind.
"You did it." He held up one hand, marveling at thin fingers straight and whole.
"Did what?" I asked, sitting up. The familiarity tugged at my thoughts, a picture of a dower young man flashing before my eyes. The woods still carried a decayed look, the world too silent, the sky still dark.
"Toady?" I croaked out as exhaustion washed over me and nausea rolled. I closed my eyes and bent forward.
"Easy, AJ," he said, a gentle hand resting on my back. I focused on it, breathing in time with each stroke of his hand. "The magic you preformed was strong enough to wipe out even the most seasoned of Guardians. How you managed such a feat is a miracle."
"You sound different," I muttered into my lap, eyes still clenched shut.
"I suppose I do," he said, voice soft, a lilting tone dancing along the vowels. "I remember," he said, happy and warm. "I was Thomas Frye before I came to the Dead Woods."
I took a deep breath and sat up, wiping at the tears falling, streaking ash and dirt across my hands.
"Do you know why you changed?" I asked.
He offered a sad smile. "I was arrogant and wanted to stay. I too, took a deal I shouldn't have, and I paid a dear price."
"Oh."
Amelia and Annabelle, Toady, the creatures in the City. How many more had fallen prey to the same trap?
"Why would you do that?" I asked. Confusion squeezed my heart. How anyone could agree to such a thing was beyond me.
"I wanted to be real again," Toady said, "but the process was flawed. It was an experiment done by someone with too little power, and no care."
"Did the Mayor do this?"
"No," Toady said. "He was like I was, hungry and half alive. He would have made himself real if he'd had the power."
"Then who did?"
"I don't remember," Toady said. "That time is so blurred. I was new here and angry."
"But what about today?" I glanced around. "What happened? The whole place crumbled."
He smiled, eyes lighting up. "You got rid of the Mayor's boundary."
"Does that mean he's gone?" I asked and coughed, smoke still a prickly ball in my throat.
"Maybe," he said, "but he's stronger than the others. He could have survived."
I sagged into the earth, head tucked into my arms. I was so tired.
"Hey," Toady said, shoving my shoulder. "You still beat him." He pointed behind me. "Look."
The bridge was gone, and with it, the fog. Brick covered paths lead to elegant brick walls. It was two stories, windows running along both floors. Vines clung to the sides, dangled from the roof and wrapped around window frames. Two robed statues stood on either side of the door, books in hand, forever reading the stone pages.
Overgrown shrugs obscured the front path, the grass surrounding it brittle and dry.
"What is this place?" I climbed to my feet, legs shaky, back aching and slouched forward. I shuffled along in the same stuttering step as my grandfather. Fallen leaves and grass crunched with each step, my shoes digging small furrows in the dirt.
"It's the Archive." Toady laid a supportive hand on my shoulder and I leaned into his grip. He was different, but he was still here.
"Wow."
I crept up the stairs, the old wood creaking under my weight, and inched towards the windows. The glass was dark, dust and dirt blocking my view. I wiped a small section clear, but the dirt swirled along the glass and the world beyond blurred.
"How do we get in?"
Toady jogged up the stairs. The old wood creaked beneath his steps. "We go through the front door."
"Right."
I grabbed the handle and turned the knob. It didn't work. I tried the other way, and the door stayed closed. Frowning, I tried again, and shoved, my shoulder slamming against the door. It swung open with a rush, crashing into the wall. My feet slid out from under me and I landed with an oomph on the dust covered floor.
"Ow."
I rolled to my knees and sat back. My chest throbbed with my back, angry for the added bruises. Sharp stinging pricked at my jaw, and I rubbed it, feeling if anything had torn. My hand came away clean.
"Are you okay?" Toady asked, kneeling before me.
Dust particles floated on lazy waves around him. Slicked back hair glinted in the moonlight, his clothes free from tears. His shoulders had filled out his cheeks no longer hollow. He held out one slim hand, waiting to help me up. He wasn't Toady anymore, he was Thomas, a person I didn't know, clean, innocent, better. I had soot and ash caked into my skin, a scarred world evidence to my crimes.
I bit my lip. "You're not Toady anymore." I choked back the grief that swelled up.
He smiled, kind and reached forward, helping me up and folding me into a warm hug. His heart still didn't beat, his chest silent of breath, but he smelt like earth and dust still. My breath hitched and I held on tight.
"For you AJ," he said. "I would be honored if you still called me Toady."
"But Toady was a monster," I choked out, shoulders shaking. He rubbed his hand up and down my back, his cheek resting on my head.
"My dear, Little Friend," he said. "Toady helped me be better than I was. You wouldn't have liked Thomas very much."
"If you say so." I sniffled and pulled back a weak smile curling my lips. "Let's go see what this place is hiding."
The wood floor was lightly stained, and the edges of shelves hid along the periphery of the shadows. Musty air irritated my lungs and I coughed. It scrapped at my chest and I winced, rubbing my sternum.
"Come on." Toady grabbed my arm, helping me gain my feet.
"Careful," I said tugging my hand free, massaging my aching shoulder. The shadows made it hard to see, and the light from the moon only passed through a short distance. "I can't see like you can."
Toady paused, head tilted. "Yes, you can." He edged closer and placed one cold hand on my shoulder. Cold sank into my bones, but the weight was comforting and I leaned into it, pushing exhaustion down. I could rest later.
"I can't." I rubbed my arms, fighting the chill spreading through me. The scent of moldy hay and smoke carried forth memories of dark cells and cold walls. "It doesn't work."
"You just have to concentrate, remember," Toady said. "You've done this before. You can do it again."
I frowned, anger stomping all over my nerves. "No, I can't. I suck at this."
My voice echoed in the large room, and the shelves rattled, dust and paper falling. I flinched, waiting for something to come crawling out of the dark, but nothing stirred. I took a shuddering breath and leaned against the wall.
"What happened?" I didn't dare raise my voice again.
Toady sighed, his hands going to his hips. "What did I tell you?"
"About what?" I rested my head in my hand. The ground rocked ever so slightly beneath my feet.
"You don't know how to use the magic here." He placed a hand on my arm, the cold giving me something to focus on. It grounded me and I could finally look up. "You've used so much already, you need to be careful."
He sighed and tugged me towards the far wall. "Come, you need to rest before we go any further."
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. "I'm fine."
"No, Little Friend," Toady said, "you are not."
He led me over to the far corner near the front window. The floor was bare, the wall clean, and he settled down, back in the corner. "You lay down and rest," he said, tugging me off my feet. I followed and sank down, eyes already drooping. "Let Ol'Toady keep watch."
I smiled and laid my head on his knee, eyes drifting close. "Five minutes."
"Whatever you say, AJ."
I woke up to Toady's jacket under my head, his hand on my back. He was reading a book.
"Where did you find that?" I asked, a yawn cracking my jaw. I sat up, stretching out sore limbs. The world didn't wobble and breathing came easier.
Toady glanced up, long finger keeping his place. "I found it over there," he said, pointing to one of the shelves. "It's a fascinating tale of how the Archive used to run a school for young Guardians and Keepers."
"They had a school here?" The ghost of kids bent over books and scribbling on papers a flickering image in my mind.
"No," Toady said. "It was in the world of the living. They kept some of its records here."
"Can it help me get home?" I stood and brushed the dust off my clothes. Toady closed the book and followed, keeping it tucked in his arms.
"No," he said. "I didn't find anything like that in this room, and I didn't want to leave you alone."
"Do you think one of the other books can help?" I asked, starting forward. My foot caught on some debris and I stumbled, Toady reaching out and grabbing my arm.
"Thanks." I rubbed my eyes.
"Close your eyes," he said. "You might be able to use some magic to see now."
Fear took a hold of my stomach and squeezed. My breath hitched and sweat, cold and slick, broke out on my palms. Light meant safety, and shadows black-eyed kids and monsters trying to eat me. I couldn't lose the light.
"It's okay," he said leaning into my side. He was solid, a familiar cold that felt as safe as home. "Let me guard you."
I took a deep breath and nodded. My eyes slid closed and tension made my bones rigid.
Dark cells and rictus grins flashed through my mind again. Air froze in my lungs. When I opened my eyes, I was outside, the bright moon shining a silver light over the world. I could breathe again.
"I can't do it." I wiped at my cheeks, hating the tears spilling down them. The tremors in my hands made it difficult, and the dirt smeared in long tracks along my palms. "I could sleep, but I can't do this. Why is that?"
Toady tugged me forward, and my arms wrapped around his middle.
"You were too tired to process everything that happened," he said. "It will take time, but you can do this."
I took a deep breath. "Tell me what to do again."
"Close your eyes."
I did as Toady asked, hands clenched together, jaw tight. I focused on breathing, counting from three on exhale, and three on inhale, like Sheryl had taught me.
"Now what?" I asked.
Sheryl's voice echoed through my thoughts, love and a sense of home settling around me. Breathe in, one, two, three. Breathe out, one, two, three. Repeat.
"You found it once, you can do it again," Toady said. "Call the magic forth. Grab it, let it flow through you."
Minutes ticked by measured by my slow breaths, and beating heart.
Nothing happened.
"Shit." I stomped away fist digging into my eyes. "I can't do it."
"Yes, you can." Toady grabbed my arms, giving me a slight shake. "You've done wondrous things already."
I tried again.
"I wonder if his bones crunch too?"
I huddled into my jackets, the sense of home bleeding from me with the echo of the sister's words.
"Breath slowly," Toady said, "and focus on the warmth."
I nodded and wiped my eyes. Closing them, I steadied my breathing, and focused inward. The air shifted. The scent of flowers and cut grass cut through the dust and mold.
Memories of home rose like a bird soaring through the clouds.
"AJ! You're going to be late." Mom yelling as she pulled the covers off my head, only to be greeted with a small cake and a few candles. "Happy Birthday, sweetie."
"Come on, bud. The fish are jumping out of the lake." Dad's long missed voice as he stood in the door to my room, bag slung over one shoulder.
"Look what I got." Sheryl singing as she danced into my room. In her hands the latest comics, and a bowl of popcorn.
Danny impatient and beeping the horn on his bike. "Come on, the movie starts in fifteen minutes."
The warmth settled like a hug and I opened my eyes. Light beat back the shadows, and swirled around the room. It was brighter, filling more of the space.
"I told you, you could do it." Toady grinned, clapping his hands together. "Come on. Let's get you home."
I followed Toady further into the room.
Darkness pooled off to the left. It gathered along the wall, refusing to allow even a drop of light into its depths.
I shivered and edged away from it. Toady disappeared through an open doorway and I followed, the light leading the way.
Rows and rows of bookshelves covered the walls. Books filled the spaces, crammed together with scrolls and packed piles of paper. Tables lined either side of the room.
A few chairs were broken, and a table I passed teetered on three legs. Loose papers littered the floor and dust danced on an intangible breeze, sparkling in the light.
"What is this?" I asked, running my finger over one tabletop. Cool, smooth wood allowed my finger to travel along the surface. Dirt coated my skin, leaving a stark trail through the dusty landscape. I wiped it off and hurried to catch up with Toady.
His brow wrinkled. "I think it might be the main library. They didn't say much about this place, just that it held a lot of knowledge."
Toady sighed, a soft touch lingering on the cover of a book. "I used to love to read. It was one of the few things I allowed myself to enjoy."
"It's kind of cool," I said heading to the shelves. Leather bound the books, the lettering gold on some, black on others, and faded on most.
I couldn't make out any of the titles. Most of them were in languages I'd never seen before.
"How'd these get here?"
"The Guardians and the Keepers brought them," he said, tracing the lettering. "They wrote down their secrets and these walls kept them safe."
"They haven't been here in a very long time." He picked up one book, green cover faded to white along the edges. He didn't open it, just rested his hand on the cover.
"You think I'm like these Guardians?"
My voice was whisper soft, my shoulders hunched to my ears. The idea of being special, of being different, wasn't as appealing as it had been before.
"You are."
"The comics made it look so easy," I muttered, head lowered. "I'm bumbling along, getting lost. Even the fire had been an accident."
"You have more strength than you realize," Toady said, sure, and solid, the authority in his voice chasing the doubt away. "This place is yours, and in time you'll discover its secrets."
"But how?"
"By reading," Toady said, sweeping his arm. "You'll read and learn, and grow. I'll help you."
"Thanks."
I headed towards the front of the room. The light pooled there, flowing around a large framed picture on the wall. Faded black lines and illegible writing took up most of the discolored yellow paper.
I cleared the dust from the glass, brushing it with the cuff of my jacket. . The lines spread out like a spider-web over the paper, little symbols drawn to mark the land.
"Huh." I followed one line with my finger. It wove around the drawn landscape, snaking back on itself in a confusing pattern.
"Are those...trees?" I cleared off more of the glass.
Toady leaned over. "Gather the light to you. It will help you see better."
"How do I do that?" I asked. I ran my fingers over the light. It twirled into a whirlpool before drifting away like fog.
"Concentrate on the magic in your hands. Ask it to come to you. Don't try to force it," Toady said.
Frowning, I gathered up some of the light. It trickled into my palm, drop by drop like water from a leaking faucet.
"Careful." Toady leaned over my shoulder. "This is your magic, it will respond to you."
The flow sped up, and it turned from a drip-drip to a steady stream. Light pooled and swirled into rolling clouds.
The glow brightened and the shadows inched back towards the walls. I walked hands cupped around the light, holding it like water and lifted them to the map.
Faded lines and scratchy writing blurred together. Light reflected off the glass obscuring all but the larger drawings.
I let the light dissipate from my hands. It left comforting warmth behind that soothed the aching cold from my hands.
"It didn't work."
"It will take practice," Toady said.
I scanned the room, but nothing stood out at first. Then I spotted it, lying on its side underneath the broken table.
I hurried over and knelt onto the ground, the tile frigid beneath my skin. I moved the rubble away, and sat up, pulling the object out with me. It was a lantern, the tall glass of the lamp covered in dust. Oil sloshed in the base, and the wick used.
Setting it on a sturdy table, I lifted the glass cover. The scent of oil filled the air.
"Think this still works?" I asked.
"It might," Toady said, leaning forward, his nose bare inches from the glass. "The magic of this world could have preserved it."
"Help me find something to light it with."
I began searching the room, pulling out drawers and rummaging through loose paper.
The writing on the paper was as old as the lantern, sloping lines, and curled letters no longer in fashion. I couldn't read the notes, the worn ink and old-fashioned writing guarding their secrets.
"Over here."
I hurried over to where Toady stood. In the drawer beneath one table was an old matchbox. The colors dulled the red and the yellows mixed, the picture smeared. I picked it up, and heard the rattling of a few matches thumping and thudding against the cardboard sides.
I carried it over to the lantern. Pushing the box out, I picked up a match, and slid it along the side. Red smudged the rough sides, but no spark lit the match. I tried again, and more of the match head rubbed off.
"Shit." I threw it down and grabbed another one.
It took a few tries, but the fourth match finally sparked, sending up the familiar scent of burning match.
I sat the box down and touched the flame to the wick. The fire leapt to the fabric, burning in the shadowed room.
I blew out the match and placed the glass back on the lantern, keeping it clear of the flame. I adjusted the flame, and the light grew brighter, and pushing away the remaining shadows.
The frigid cold lifted too, and frightened words stopped filling in my ear. My shoulders relaxed, the light bringing comfort and safety with its flickering glow.
I carried it over to the map and held it up. The colors were easier to see, and the light broke through the dust and aged glass.
The words were still hard to read but the pictures were clear, bright, and stood out under the lamp's glow. They were trees, pathways, buildings.
"This is the Dead Woods."
Toady's eyes widened and his hand flew up to trace the lines. "This is where I live."
Snarled paths surrounded a tiny symbol, square in shape.
"Neat. I need a closer look."
I sat the lantern down on the desk behind me, and grabbed the edges of the frame. I stretched my arms wide, but wasn't able to reach both sides. Old wood pressed into my palms, and the picture wobbled as I tried to lift it.
I staggered, the frame wire stuck on the braking before snapping. It tilted, rushing to meet the floor and tumbled from my hands.
It struck the floor with a deafening clatter, glass shattering. The frame splintered into barbed pieces. I jumped back, arms flying to cover my face.
Glass fragments flew across the floor and pieces of wood rained over my clothes. The noise rang in the silent hall, signalling my location to the citizens of the Dead Woods. I stood, still and statue-like, waiting for something to happen.
"AJ!" Strong arms pulled me back, spinning away from the shattered debris.
The world stayed quiet. The dust began to settle, and the only thing I heard was the soft rumble of my shallow breathing.
No monsters burst from the shadows lurking in the corners.
"Are you okay?" Toady asked. He eased his hold, stepping back and brushing pieces of glass from my hair.
"Yeah," I said, placing a hand to my chest. I half expected to find my heart on the floor, splattered amongst the ruined frame and glass.
"You should have waited for my help," Toady said, frowning.
I hunched my shoulders, heat rising up my cheeks. "I didn't know it would be so heavy."
"Asking for help isn't a weakness," Toady said. "I made that mistake more than once."
"I'll ask next time," I muttered, turning away, and navigating through the debris. Glass and wood crunching with each step. I knelt on a clear spot, moving the bigger pieces. I used the cuffs of the jacket to protect my hands against the glass. Toady knelt down beside me helping to clear the mess.
I slid the paper from the rubble, shaking it off as I stood. I turned and spread it out over the table next to the lantern.
"Do you think you could find the Archive?" I asked, peering at the map. The symbols were hard to make out, the ink faded.
Toady leaned in close, the cold of his presence sending a shiver through me. I hugged my jacket close and shoved my hands under my arms.
"I don't know," he said. He pointed to one section of the map, the dark line snaking off towards the edge. "This path takes you to the Underside of the Graveyards."
"What does that mean?" I asked, leaning closer to the map.
"It's in the name," he said. "The two places are connected; the barrier is the thinnest there. It makes it easier for spirits to cross over between worlds."
"Is that the place by the river?"
"Yes."
"Can I get home from there?" I asked.
"Maybe," he said, biting her bottom lip. "Usually you need the residences' permission first, but I might be able to help you now."
He turned to me, frowning. "It's far away though and I don't know how long it would take us to get there from here."
"But we've already been there."
"The paths change position all the time, and with the City gone, it's possible it's all moved."
"Can we try anyway?"
"Okay, but you will rest first," he said, "and we'll keep looking for a place closer."
I sighed, dragged a chair over, and sat down. I leaned my head in my hand. My chest tightened, and spikes filled my throat. The world blurred and the wispy light disappearing.
I wiped at my cheeks, the rough material of the jacket scraping my skin. The cold didn't help, drying the skin out, and causing it to chap. The magic's warmth had been a temporary fix.
I wanted to go home.
"Hey," Toady said. He placed her cold, steel like hand over mine. My breath hitched and I pressed my lips into a thin line. "You'll get home. I promise."
"You don't know that." My arms curled around my head. "Face it. I'm stuck here. There's no way out."
The last came out in a raspy whisper. My words caught against each other, and twisting into a spiny ball that dug and clawed its way out.
There was no leaving. I'd never see mom and Sheryl again.
"Stop that."
The room shook, books rattled, and papers toppled, crashing to the floor. I startled, falling back out of the chair and landing with a thud. The pain soared through my back and down my legs. Air evacuated my lungs, fleeing as if the monsters of the Dead Woods were chasing it. I had to take a minute to remember how to breathe.
Toady stood before me, arms crossed, face darkened with crawling shadows.
Fear curdled my stomach and my heart stuttered. I stood, hand inching for a weapon of any kind. Snatching up the lantern, I took a step back, arm ready to throw it if needed.
I wasn't sure what it would do against him, I didn't know how to use the magic yet, the big things I'd done had been instinctual.
"Little Friend, you are a Guardian." Toady flung his arms out wide, indicating the whole room. "This place is yours. They came and went in the past. It can be that way again."
"How?" I asked, fear fading into anger. "I don't know where I'm going. I don't know how to be any Guardian. I'm a kid."
It hurt to admit it.
"Look at the map," Toady said, the shadows gone from him, the tension draining from the room. "This world will tell you what you need to know. You have to figure out its secrets."
"I don't suppose you can tell me?" I asked, words bitter and broken.
Toady shook his head. "What I know, I've learned on my own. They never told me their secrets."
"Right." I sat the lantern down and rubbed my face.
"You can learn this." He gestured to the books. "I'll help you learn, if you want."
"Thanks." I climbed into the chair, settled onto my knees, and leaned forward so I could get a closer look.
I focused inward again, pulling up the warmth and letting the magic glide over the map. It was easier, rising to my call with little effort. It rolled and swayed, pooling at various parts on the yellowed paper.
One spot shone brighter than the others, and was near the center of the map.
"What's here?" I pointed at the faded outline of a sketch peeking out from beneath the light.
"I don't know," Toady said leaning close. "Why?"
Frowning, lifted the light. It scattered in tiny embers, mixing with the dusty air.
Symbols came into focus, and a path wound through trees. Square blocks connected by short walkways.
"I think I found the Archive." Hope surged, fueling the warmth and chasing away the cold.
"There's an exit here," Toady said. A grin spread wide, the familiar wrinkles sliding into place. He placed a hand on my arm. "We'll get you home in no time."
I grinned, and turned back to study the map and the layout of the bright spots. One was near the road to the graveyard, another was to my left, and three were towards the bottom of the map.
One small faint light glowed beyond where I thought the Archive was located.
"It's behind this place." I climbed off the chair, dragging the map with me.
I held the lantern high, magic flowing around the floor. The glow guiding my path, and slipped from the Archive and out into the bright moonlit world.
I raised the map, the silvery light backlighting the paper. The brighter spots I gauged to be in front, so I followed the path snaking around the Archive.
The forest here was as wild as the rest, limbs hanging over the path, roots pushing up through the ground.
Blackened moss hung like burnt hair from branches and an acidic scent wafted on the breeze. Trees sported burnt bark, and scorched earth encircled them.
"Why are they burnt like that?" I checked out a few more trees. It was the same even further down the path.
"It was the fire," Toady said. "It damaged more than the City. It tore through anything the Mayor's magic touched."
A large tree was to my right. The bark still smoked is spots and moss draped over gnarled branches.
"Let's keep going."
Unease slithered through my insides and rolled through bile. Images of people in the cells, trapped as I was, demanded I not forget them. I wondered if they got out, or if they burned with everything else.
The bile rose higher. My eyes stung. I paused and closed my eyes, trying to breathe. They were gone. Toady had said. The living couldn't survive the Dead Woods, not like I could.
"AJ?"
I shook my head and opened my eyes. I scrubbed my cheeks, the rough fabric of my coat grating my skin.
I hadn't hurt those people. The Mayor had.
"I'm fine," I said, though my words cracked, I managed to hold them together despite the pieces that fell.
I started down the path, careful to mark my way. The soot made it easy, the stark lines visible even without the added light.
A fork in the path appeared, and I raised the lantern. The bright light caught on the irregular ground and the lines dug into the dirt.
Tree limbs and smoking rocks littered the other path.
I edged forward and bent to get a closer look. The lines turned out to be stones, placed in neat rows, and packed into the dirt.
Leaves and moss covered most of the stones, and green algae and wormed into the crevasses.
I stepped onto the path, and walked a few feet and turned. The old path was still visible. The burnt gnarled one vanished from my sight, swallowed in a twist of shadows and earth.
Tangled forest took its place. Soot stained trees, and brittle underbrush took up the space the path had been.
My jam crashed to the ground.
"You haven't seen that before."
"No."
"One day you'll be able to see through it without trying."." Toady pointed. "Focus and try to see through the illusion."
"Okay." I narrowed my eyes. The trees shimmered and flickered. "I'm starting to finally see." I lifted the lantern. "I know where to go."
"That's great." Toady smiled.
"I have always loved a happy ending."
I spun at the garbled voice, the map clenched to my chest. The Mayor stood, swaying on damaged legs, right arm hanging loose from its socket. Half his head was gone, tore apart by Toady's strike. Bits of decayed skin and bone clung to his suit jacket. Maggots wriggled out of the gap in his head and slid off his shoulders. His lopsided jaw hung to his chest and several teeth were missing.
I stepped back. The woods on either side closed in, shadows filling the spaces between. I could push through them if needed, but the Mayor was stronger, and even with the damage, he moved fast.
He spun, backhanding Toady into the trees. Bark crack on impact and Toady slammed into the ground in a tangle of limbs and shattered branches. He didn't move. Between one blink, and the next, the Mayor was standing before me. Mangled hands gripped my arms and lifted me from the ground.
The lantern fell, clattering and rolling until a root along the edge of the path stopped it. Cracks spread out in delicate webs along the glass enclosure, but the flame kept burning.
He smiled, ruined face a mask cracking into pieces. The whole picture came forth and the shadows coiled around him and crept into his eyes.
"I'll take that map now."
"Yeah, no." I stuffed it into my shirt, crumbling it into a ball of yellowed paper and faded ink.
"Then I will take it from you." He slurred and spat out harsh words, black tongue sliding through gaps.
Anger burned the fear to ash and I balled my hands into a fist.
"You shouldn't have done that."
He laughed. It soured in my ears, off key and inhuman.
"And what are you going to do?" he asked. He shook me, snapping my head back like a toddler playing with a doll.
"I burned down your city." My hands gripped his rotted wrist, and I kicked out. The edge of my shoes grazed his stomach and he laughed again.
"You got lucky, Little Guardian," The Mayor said, jaw swaying like an unhinged trapdoor. "The traitor can't help you now, and I can always rebuild."
He shrugged, tone dropping to casual, as if he'd practiced his words in front of a mirror.
"Thanks for helping me find this. The Archivist's wards kept me out of their building, but you've weakened them. Now I can have the Dead Wood's secrets."
He looked to the sky and muttered unknown words beneath his breath. They growled and snarled their way out, snapping at the world and sharp as knives. The breeze picked up, the blackened moss, brittle and burnt, dissolved in the wind. Smoke slithered along the ground from the trees, the acidic scent coating the back of my throat.
The soft magic blinked out and the shadows moved in.
Clouds churned overhead, rolling over the moon and blocking the light. A small section of the path remained safe, the light from the lantern keeping the shadows at bay.
Grinning, jagged black teeth dangling in a ruined mouth he held me with one hand and reached into my jacket. The map crinkled in his skeletal hands as he dragged it out. I kicked and thrashed, my shoulder aching from the angle he held me.
"Farewell, Little Guardian." His words lisped and slurred, round eyes holding the rage of the storm above.
He tossed me to the ground, trash he didn't need to bother with and turned.
"No."
The storm swallowed my words. Lightning forked and crashed through the clouds. Thunder bellowed its displeasure and the world shook.
I fell, knees hitting the rocky ground. Tremors caused the lantern to roll closer.
Scrambling to my feet, I snatched it up, running after the Mayor's tottering form. His broken and bent legs dragged his feet along the ground. He disappeared around the bend, but the furrows left behind made it easy to follow.
I pushed harder, jumping over roots and cracked earth. The ground shook again, and I stumbled. Branches popped and splintered, crashing to the earth. I missed one, the leaves swiping along my back.
Wind howled and blackened trees quaked as if an angry giant was stomping through the land.
I kept running.
The Archive came into view, twisted vines and moss crawling up the side. Pieces of shattered door scattered along the stairs and front path. I picked around the fractured pieces of wood. The frail light from the lantern piercing tiny holes into the dark.
Torn shelves littered the front room. The old tables lay in pieces, scattered in abandoned piles like bits of trash. Like Toady.
I stepped over the debris, footsteps quiet, listening for any sound. The shadows crawled closer, grasping tendrils slithering in from the corners. The weak light from the lantern unable to fight them off.
Yellowed paper, ink faded and words unreadable, lay in a tattered, ripped mess. I picked up one piece. The drawing cut off in a jagged tear, the words smeared together. I dropped it, an ache settling in my chest, crushing bone and organs.
Anger flared and burned under my skin. The Mayor was destroying this place, as he had the graveyard, and so many people's lives.
How long had the City been there? Decades? Centuries?
My hand clenched around the handle of the lantern and I marched forward. I didn't care if he heard me.
He would not win.
The door to the inner library sat broken to one side. The knob ripped out, and the frame cracked and bent. Plaster clung to the wood and specs of white dust mixed with the wood.
I stepped through and spotted the Mayor. His twisted legs cracked under his weight. Pieces of skull tumbled down his back, maggots following like wriggling rain. He rifled through a book on the front desk.
Mangled fingers ripped at fragile pages. His bottom jaw was missing now. The fractured remains mixed with lumps of decayed skin and smashed shelves.
Low growls and grunts echoed with each ripped page, black tongue lolling from the gaping maw. The map, crinkled and crumbled with his movements, spread out next to him, one hand holding the paper flat.
He paused and sniffed the air. His remaining lip cured back, jagged yellowed teeth prominent. I gripped the lantern tight as the Mayor turned, round milky eyes holding malevolent rage. He gathered the map into his hand, the paper scrunching into a misshaped ball. Long gray fingers closed over it, a prison of bone and decayed flesh.
"That's my map."
A gurgling hiss echoed, slithering into my ears and burrowing into my memories. He was laughing.
He stepped closer, tottering on contorted legs. His right food dragged through fragmented wood and shredded books.
I planted my feet, claiming the Archive as my sovereign territory. He would not take it from me.
"These are my books."
Lightning sparked along my arms and whitened the edge of my vision. I could see now, the dark shapes slithering in the shadows. They weren't shadows, but things, unnatural like the Mayor, wriggling along the floor and the walls. The Mayor bellowed, tar colored tongue shaking as the growl rolled across the room. He charged, map still clenched in one hand. Bones scraped and snapped with each step, the dark beings rising along behind him.
I spun aside, the lightning bursting forth, and I swung the lantern like a bat at baseball practice. It crashed into his back, oil spilling along rotten cloth. Smoke rose to the ceiling and fire devoured each fiber it touched.
I scuttled out of reach, back hitting the shelves. An ululating shriek tore through the room. I crouched, hands clamping over my ears.
Smoke filled the room, sharp and acidic. I gagged, bile wriggling up my throat. Walls began to shake, and the flames crept onto loose paper. Bookshelves snapped and crashed to the ground. The Mayor continued to roar and rage, smashing into furniture. The shadowed beings writhed and shook, dying snakes without a head.
I ran and didn't dare look back.
Cool air splashed my face, sweet and intoxicating after the smoke filled room. I stumbled to a stop, breath burning my lungs like the fire raging inside.
Thunder blasted through the Archive, knocking me to the ground. I curled inward, knees to my chin, arms over my head. Glass rocketed out, cutting my hands and cheeks.
My ears rang, deafening the world, and I lay there, gaining air into my lungs and calming my terrified heart.
The world settled, and the ground no longer shook. My heart slowed from its frightened beat.
I sat up, shaking off debris. The Archive's many windows were empty, and a crack divided one wall.
Thudding footsteps preceded the appearance of the Mayor. Smoldering flames wrapped around his ruined form. The fire had eaten away most of his gray skin, leaving a blackened husk on crumbled legs.
He tottered out the door and down the stairs, before falling and laying still. A great exhale of air rushed from his body. The Mayor sagged like a deflated balloon, disintegrating to dust.
I closed my eyes and the scent of bunt clothes and body caressed my face. Breath clawed and hitched in my lungs, and I wiped at my cheeks.
It was over, but the map was gone, and part of the Archive lay in ruin, and Toady...
Standing, I ran along the path, following the furrows left by the Mayor. Each step lasted years, my bones feeling like they too, were grinding together. There was a chance he was okay. He had to be okay.
I rounded a corner and headed onto the cobblestone path. Toady wasn't there.
"Toady?" I called out, heading further down the path. It led to a dead end. The woods closed around the path, a wide smooth area of packed dirt formed a half circle where the stones ended.
I turned. The path I'd followed was still there. "Toady?"
Where was he?
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. Exhaustion and pain made it hard to focus, and my ears rang in high-pitched tunes.
It rose up and flowed out tingling along my arms and fingers, warming my face.
I opened my eyes.
White misty light curled over branches and glided along the ground. It crept in like fog, rolling over roots and rocks and streaming around my feet.
I took steady breathes, and it solidified. It pooled before me, twisting in on itself like a whirlpool. It was like watching the flickering image on an old television. The forest behind the misty light was full of life. I could hear the chirping of birds. Another flicker, and I caught sight of dappled sunlight over the leave-strewn ground.
I lifted my hand and let it drift over the swirling white. Warm summer air swam over my frigid fingers and I closed my eyes. I could go home. I had to take those last few steps and leave the Dead Woods behind.
"How wonderful! You've found it."
Toady stood at my side. His image faded, his words like they came from underwater. A soft hint of moon peeked out from behind the trees, lighting his form like a projected picture from a movie reel.
"You're back."
Relief sagged my shoulders, and the misty white disappeared. All that remained was the endless night of the Dead Woods.
"I'm not completely, not yet." He shrugged. "I will be whole in time."
"I'm glad you're okay." I wiped my cheeks, a weak smile curling my lips. "The Mayor is gone."
"I knew you could do it." He smiled, round eyes lighting up, and pointed. "You can go home now."
I bit my lip and nodded.
"So why don't you?"
"I don't know." My voice was low, swallowed up fear and nerves. I hunched in, digging my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
The acidic smell still lingered in my nose and coated my throat.
"I look like I got dragged behind a truck."
"You were lost in the woods," Toady said. "The adults won't see anything else."
"Maybe."
"You're afraid."
He came to stand before me, visible against the burnt, blackened trees behind him.
"I told you, this world is as much yours as it is mine."
"What about the rest of them? The ones like the Mayor and the Black-Eyed ones?"
Toady looked back, the Dead Woods still and silent once more.
"You destroyed him. He won't be coming back."
"But the others will."
"Yes." Toady laid a hand on my shoulder, familiar and cold.
I spun away and ran my fingers through my hair, catching it on tangles and flaking mud. Air stuck in my throat, snagging on the smoke and tears.
"How can I go back after all of this?" I wrapped my arms around my chest, fingers digging into my jacket. "Who will look after the Archive?"
"You'll go because you have to." He smiled. "You need to grow up first, but I'll be here when you come back. You have a lot to learn."
I looked back, down the winding cobblestone path leading back towards the world I'd spent a whole life time in. Toady hugged me, arms like iron bands, but comforting. I stepped back and cleared the tears from my cheeks.
"You'll be here?"
"I promise."
"Okay." I let loose a shuddering breath. "Okay."
I stood straighter and took a step towards the doorway. "You'll guard the Archive for me, right?"
Toady's whole being lit up. He stood straighter and adjusted his suit jacket. He gave me a solemn nod. "It would be my honor, Guardian."
"Thank you." I turned and headed towards home.
Trees blackened and twisted, moss dangling from thick branches. Rocks stuck up from the ground, huddled next to roots and sharp bushes. The dense foliage was too thick to see through.
So much had happened. I didn't know how to explain it, or if I even could. No one would believe me.
The warm air drifted by and I took a shaky breath. I couldn't learn the Dead Wood's secrets yet, but I would. I would be back soon. I was a Guardian, and I had to a job to do. But for now, it was time to go home.