The Curse of Deadman's Forest (30 page)

BOOK: The Curse of Deadman's Forest
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“This morning we both woke up to see her smoothing some sort of salve over your wound, which she’s been reapplying every few hours, and you certainly appear to be doing much better. But there’s something not quite right about her or this place.” Theo’s hands closed over her crystal and the worried look returned to her eyes.

Ian then remembered the voices he’d heard earlier. From what he could recall of the conversation, someone else had been responsible for healing him. But he was unable to dwell on that at the moment. Another worry had entered his mind. “You brought me through the portal.”

Theo smoothed the hair along his brow, her face a mask of guilt. “We’d no choice,” she admitted. “A moment after you collapsed, the portal opened, and you were in such a terrible state, Ian. We couldn’t leave you there—you would have died without help. Either the beast would have found its way through the gate, or the venom would have taken you.”

Ian worked his good hand up to cover hers. “It’s all right, Theo,” he assured her. “I would have done the same if it were one of you.”

“I made sure to note where the portal is,” Carl told him. “And I rescued the sundial from where you dropped it.” Carl dug into his pocket and pulled out the bronze relic. When his friend offered it to him, Ian shook his head. “You keep it for now,” he said. Carl nodded grimly and tucked the sundial back into his trousers while he continued to reassure Ian. “We came out this side of the portal to a small cave not far
from here. The first sign of Lachestia and we’ll shuttle you back through, Ian. Don’t you worry.”

Ian nodded and closed his eyes. He’d concern himself with being on this side of the portal after he’d had a chance to rest. “I’m so tired.”

Theo squeezed his good hand. “Eva told us you’d be very weak at first. You should sleep, Ian. We’ll be nearby.”

“Get some rest,” Carl added. “We’ll talk later.”

In the next instant, Ian was fast asleep.

Sometime later Ian awoke to something cool and soothing being applied to his arm. He still felt weak and exhausted, so he waited to open his eyes. The dim light coming through his eyelids suggested that it was nighttime, and the familiar sound of Carl snoring in the background told him it must be quite late. “How is the lad?” asked a withered voice from across the room. Ian noticed that although the owner sounded old, the cadence and pitch of her speech seemed different from the woman who’d given him aid earlier.

“He’s coming along quite well. His hand has lost much of the swelling and he seems to be healing nicely, Grandmother,” said the girl. Ian nearly smiled when he heard the word “grandmother.” For a moment, he heard it as the girl had actually said it:
“Babcia.”

“And the others?”

“Asleep.”

“Careful not to give them so much tea,” said the old
woman. “They’ll start to suspect when they can’t shake their grogginess.”

“I had to give them a bit extra,” the girl said. “I’m off to the village in the morning, and they must remain asleep until I return.”

“The crone and her payments.” The old woman tsked. “She’s taken every heirloom we have. And now you’ve bargained to bring her another trinket?”

“I had little choice,” Eva said. “The boy would have died without her help.”

The old woman harrumphed. “I’m running low on elixir,” she said after a bit.

“I’ll get some more from the crone when I take her the payment,” promised the girl. Ian felt her finish with the salve, and rewrap his arm very gently with a bandage. “There,” she whispered to him. “That should help ease the sting in your arm and let you rest peacefully through the night.”

Ian thought it best to pretend he was still asleep. “How long will they stay?” asked the old woman.

“Only a little while longer,” said Eva. Ian heard her move away from his bedside. “At least until the crone accepts what I’ve brought her for payment and she heals the boy completely. Either way, they cannot leave without her permission.”

The old woman harrumphed again. “We’re all her prisoners,” she croaked.

“Shhh!” Eva said quickly. “Don’t say such things! You know her forest has ears!”

“Yes,” her grandmother agreed irritably. “I’m well aware that this is
her
forest, Eva. I’ve lived here all my life, after all, bound by the crone and her potions. I should have left years ago. Before you or your mother were ever born.”

“Nonsense,” Eva insisted. “You would have died many times over were it not for her help, Babi.”

The old woman sighed. “I’ve lived quite long enough, Eva. And I will not have you be a slave any longer than you have to for my sake. Promise me that the moment I die, you will leave this forest and never look back.”

“Hush,” her granddaughter said gently. “You’re not dying and I’m certainly not going anywhere without you. Now drink your sleeping medicine and rest, Babi. It’s quite late.”

Ian struggled then to open his eyes. He saw the pretty girl from the forest leaning over a bed across the room, where a withered and frail-looking old woman sat propped up by many pillows and covered in blankets. Eva held a green bottle, from which she carefully dispensed a spoonful of liquid. She fed it to her grandmother, who took it willingly. The girl then set the green bottle down, replaced the cork top, and smoothed a hand over her grandmother’s white unruly hair.

“Promise me,” repeated the old woman, her eyes stern and unwavering.

“Hush,” Eva repeated soothingly.

But the old woman was stubborn. She grabbed Eva’s hand and held it to her heart. “Promise me!” she begged.

Eva appeared startled and unsettled by the urgency in
her grandmother’s request. “All right,” she said after a moment. “But you’re not dying, Babi. So such promises are quite ridiculous.”

But the old woman appeared satisfied now that she had Eva’s word, and she sank back into her pillows and closed her lids. Ian found that he too was unable to keep his eyes open, and with a small sigh he fell into a comfortable but exhausted sleep.

Ian was shaken gently awake sometime the next morning. “Ian!” Carl was whispering to him urgently. “Come on, mate! You’ve got to wake up!”

Ian’s eyes flew open and he stared up at the pale face of his friend, who seemed frantic and worried. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s Theo!” Carl whispered, looking warily at the other side of the room, where Eva’s grandmother still rested.

“What are you two going on about?” she demanded.

“Nothing, ma’am,” Carl assured her before closing his eyes and saying, “Tickety-boo, tickety-boo, tickety-boo.”

Ian’s brow furrowed. “Carl, have you gone daft?”

Carl snapped his eyes open and smiled. “Naw, mate, I’ve just got to make sure we’re speaking the king’s English, so I think of a word that doesn’t translate to any other language, like ‘tickety-boo,’ and we pop from Polish to English just like that. The old woman can’t understand a word I’m saying thereafter.”

Ian eased up to his elbows, wincing only slightly when he put weight on his sore arm. Absently he noted that his hand had lost most of the swelling, although it still looked
quite bruised. “Why don’t you simply take off the pouch with the Star in it?”

“Because I need to understand what
they’re
saying, Ian,” Carl explained, as if Ian were the one who’d gone daft.

“Where’s Theo?” Ian asked, wanting to change the subject and suddenly aware that neither she nor Eva was in the small cabin.

“Gone,” Carl said. “Which is why I need you to get up. We’ve got to look for her.”

Ian struggled to sit all the way up. “What do you mean she’s gone?” he demanded.

“Eva left a bit ago. She said she was going to ask one of the villagers for a ride to the train station. She said she needed to travel into the city—something about needing to purchase a gift for an old friend. She tried to get us to drink that tea she keeps making for us, but Theo and I know she’s put some sort of sleeping potion in it, so we only pretended to drink it. The minute she left, Theo got up and checked our supplies, and Ian—Eva’s taken
all
our money!”

“I’ll not ask you again!” said the old woman from across the room. “I demand to know what you’re saying!”

Carl tore his eyes away from Ian and smiled at Eva’s grandmother. “Just telling my friend here what a marvelous hostess your granddaughter is, ma’am.”

The old woman appeared skeptical and pouted at them but said nothing more.

“Tickety-boo,” Ian whispered after a moment, and Carl smiled. “So what happened to Theo?” he asked quietly.

“I’m running a fever,” his friend admitted. Ian’s eyes
widened. Carl did appear quite pale and his brow was slick with sweat, and now that Ian thought about it, Carl’s breathing also appeared labored. “Theo thinks I’ve caught the virus and she’s gone in search of the Healer.”

Ian’s jaw fell open.
“She’s what?”

Carl held up his hands in surrender. “She mentioned the idea right after she felt my forehead this morning, said I needed to stay here and rest while she went off to search the forest for the Healer. I told her absolutely not and she promised she wouldn’t go without us, but then when I came back from the loo just now, she was gone!”

Ian wasted no time pulling back the covers and easing himself out of bed. “We’ve got to find her,” he said, his heart racing as he struggled to get to his feet on wobbly legs.

“Can you walk?” Carl asked, coming round to support Ian under his shoulder.

“Yes,” he assured him, even though he felt quite unstable. “With some help, at least.”

“Get back into bed!” Eva’s grandmother yelled at him. “You’re not supposed to be walking around! And where is the girl? She isn’t supposed to leave the cottage!”

“She’s just outside,” Carl said quickly. “Enjoying some fresh air. And I’m helping Ian to the loo. We’ll be right back.”

Carl made Ian sit on the side of the bed for just a moment while he helped him ease into his shoes, and then he got Ian to his feet again and snuck the knapsack between them, and they shuffled outdoors.

“Which way do you think she went?” Ian asked, looking
around. The cottage was situated in a sparse yard at the edge of a thick and ominous wood. The only other structure Ian could see was an outhouse.

“Dunno,” Carl admitted, but then he seemed to get an idea and he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the sundial. “Perhaps this might come in handy,” he said, holding it up to Ian.

Ian felt a bit of relief. They’d find Theo quickly with the aid of the sundial. “Brilliant, mate,” he said to him as he lifted it from Carl’s palm.

Ian glanced over his shoulder and saw that Eva’s grandmother had herself struggled out of bed and was moving to the door, probably to see where everyone had gone. He remembered snatches of conversation he’d overheard, during which she’d warned Eva to keep them all trapped in the cottage, and Ian said, “Come on, let’s get to the woods quickly before we have to explain ourselves to the old woman.”

The boys moved to the closest path in the forest surrounding the yard. It was much darker under the shade of so many trees—especially given that the morning held dark gray clouds that clearly threatened rain. Ian made sure they were both out of sight of the old woman in the cottage, and feeling secure, he asked, “Sundial, please point the way to Theo.”

A feeble shadow formed across the surface of the relic. Ian squinted—it was hard to see in the dim light—but he could just make out that the dial was pointing directly behind him. “She took the path on the other side of the cottage,” he told Carl.

Carl opened his mouth to say something, but a coughing fit overtook and racked his body for several moments. Ian stared worriedly at his friend, and terrible fear gripped him while he stood by helplessly and watched Carl struggle to take a clear breath. He remembered the others coughing at the keep, and felt dread at seeing the same symptoms appear in his friend. When Carl at last was able to breathe without coughing, Ian asked him, “Would you like to stay here? I can use the sundial to find Theo by myself.”

Carl stared at him as if he’d said something offensive. “Are you joking?” he wheezed. “Lachestia’s probably prowling these very woods, Ian! I can’t let you go off on your own. Especially not in your condition.”

Ian had to smile at the irony. Just a few moments before, he’d needed Carl’s help to make it out of bed, and right then, Carl was the one who looked like he needed some support. “All right,” he agreed. “We’ll lean on each other.”

Carl put on a brave face, reached into the knapsack, and pulled out an apple and some cheese. “Here,” he said. “You’ve had nothing to eat since we came through the portal. Eat this while we look for Theo.”

Ian took the food gratefully. “Good old Carl,” he said, remembering Theo’s words from the Lafittes’ garden, reminding him that Carl was the best mate he’d ever have.

Carl smiled and started to cough again, and Ian felt foreboding go straight through him. When Carl could speak again, he said hoarsely, “Let’s be off, then.”

* * *

The boys spent much of the morning making little progress through the dense forest. Ian couldn’t tell if there just wasn’t enough light to read the sundial, or if Theo was moving so erratically that the shadow continually changed. After he’d eaten, Ian felt much better. He was still a bit weak, and his arm throbbed terribly, but it was Carl who was struggling to keep up.

Periodically the boys had to stop altogether while Carl worked through another fit of coughs, and to make matters worse, the gray clouds eventually let go of the rain they’d been holding. It wasn’t long before both Carl and Ian were wet, miserable, and shaking with cold.

“I can’t read the dial,” Ian finally admitted. “It’s too dark in these woods. There’s not enough light to form a shadow.”

Carl tugged the knapsack off his shoulders and fished around inside. He pulled out a torch and handed it to Ian. “Best to keep it dry if you can,” he told him.

Ian used his body to shield the torch and directed it toward the dial. Relieved, he saw the dark shadow across the surface, pointing straight ahead. “This way,” he said, moving forward.

“Didn’t we just come from there?” Carl asked.

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