The Goblin Market (Into the Green) (22 page)

She drew it tighter around her, breathing in the musty odor. It reminded her of the forest, of Him, who grinned as though pleased with himself and then closed his pack.

He surveyed the clearing, noting their missing guide with a sigh. “He’s obviously run off."

"Maybe the Wald took him?" she wondered aloud.

“Or maybe his conscience got the best of him.”

“Perhaps,” she studied the horizon herself. Sickly woods drew up to tower in on them from both sides, and she had no idea which way to go from there. Without a guide to lead them, she guessed it really didn’t matter. They would have to find their own way.

"We should keep to the clearing," Him said, "as long as it lasts, anyway. Maybe we can catch a glimpse of the castle and determine which way to go from there."

Just as they picked up their feet, a heavy rustling in the brush they'd emerged from signaled their attention. Him reached instinctively toward his sword and had it half-drawn by the time Gorigast stumbled into the clearing covered in black seeds.

He muttered under his breath and glowered, only stopping when he realized he had come out right before them. “Majesty, there you are.”

Meredith narrowed her eyes over their guide, feeling Him's caution and doubt weighing heavily on her mind. “We thought maybe you had run off without us.”

“Me? Run off without you?” Gorigast straightened himself and tried to push the guilt of his meeting with Kothar into the back of his mind. “I would never run off without you, my queen.”

Gorigast’s attention was then drawn to the portal closing over their entrance into the field. His breath caught in his throat like a ragged cloth at the amazing site unfolding behind them.

The darkness of the Wald was slowly lifting away, the smallest hint of blue tinting the sky beyond the portal as though the heavily burdened land had breathed a sigh of relief. Green tendrils snaked up from the sulking earth and reached toward the opening sky above, and Gorigast nearly dropped to his knees in reverence as the shadow of a small bird flittered across the threshold just moments before it closed.

Life. The Wald was alive again, and it was all because of her.

Hints of prophecy clawed at his memory, and he shifted his reverent stare toward Meredith. She stood just feet away, wrapped in that woven blanket like some strange pilgrim from another world. The damp tendrils of her honey hair clung to her cheeks and forehead, her blue eyes like the glimpse of sky he'd seen just moments before.

She was the one; the light in the darkness.

The guilt perished from his heart, as he realized there was no doubt what must be done. He must lead her home.

“Majesty,” he bowed before her. “Follow me this way to the castle.”

Him's gaze arced in exasperation, but he said nothing, simply picked up and followed where Meredith went. And while he had not looked backward, or noticed that the very world behind them was changing, another did notice.

Kothar watched them journey through the Wald from the looking glass in his castle, and a strangling breathlessness caught in his throat as he glimpsed the changes unraveling his darkness.

He leaned forward, chin rested atop his fingers as he watched his dying world draw breath again. Such wonders he had not seen in so long they almost seemed foreign. Budding flowers promised to fleck the landscape with rich hues of green, pale yellow, lavender, blue, soft pink and naked white.

But how?

What magic had she conjured to renew life in that which had been long dead?

A timid hare crept out from the brush and Kothar watched with unbridled curiosity. Inside of him lingered an unspoken softness, a core of longing for a world he had long ago left for the shadows.

As he breathed in, he could almost smell the sweet, fragrant clover, but before the longing inside could overwhelm him, he stiffened against it and strengthened the bitter wall he built around before it could crumble.

A snarl of appreciation curved the left corner of his mouth. She was a most dangerous adversary, most dangerous indeed, and though he dared not bring her to harm, she would have to be stopped, or at least startled.

The ragged expression he wore softened, for he had just the thing that would cut her down to size.

*****

At least the claustrophobia was gone, Meredith thought. She glanced toward the silver dome of sky above them. Clouds continued to spit down rain, but beyond them she was sure the silver essence was the sun trying desperately to tear through. The trees were narrowing again as well, and it looked as if they would be forced back into the thick of Wald once more.

Dreading it, she drew the damp blanket closer around herself and looked toward Him. He hadn’t said much since they’d reunited with Gorigast, which was probably for the best, but she had been enjoying their conversation a great deal.

She’d never known anyone quite like Him before, and she wasn’t thinking of his physical differences. Where most people she had known throughout the course of her life had been judgmental and unforgiving when it came to her independence, Him seemed to both thrive on and encourage it.

When he had called her a heroine before, she hadn’t known how to accept the praise. She had done amazing things, things beyond the sacrifice she was about to make for the sake of her sister, but they’d never felt all that outstanding to her before.

Sylvanus had spoken of the sacrifice she had made for the sake of their kingdom, and though it all seemed far too distant for her to recall, it gave her a greater sense of pride than any she had ever known before.

It made her uncomfortable to try and remember the past Sylvanus placed her in, but each time she met with Him’s gaze, or his hand grazed hers, she drew closer to believing it.

And the quest for her sister had turned into something beyond amazing. Had Christina not been the precocious troublemaker getting herself into yet another bind, Meredith would never have found the place her heart longed to call home.

She knew it was foolish to fantasize under such uncertain terms; she had promised to turn herself over to Kothar, but somewhere inside her heart was planning a future with Him even though she knew it could never come to pass. She could see it clearly. Once they’d returned Christina to her proper place in the world, Meredith was going to do whatever it took to remain behind with Him.

Of course, she hadn’t mentioned it yet, and there was a sickening feeling inside of her that if she did manage to find a way out of staying with Kothar, Him might tell her he didn’t want her to stay...

He was a free spirit before she came along, and he’d most certainly want to return to that freedom as quickly as possible.

“We should break for mid-day soon,” Him spoke up.

“Of course.”

“No breaking!” Gorigast didn’t pause to protest, but turned on them with wide, wary eyes while still walking. “We mustn’t stop.”

“Gorigast, we’ve been traveling for hours,” Meredith protested. “We need to replenish our strength with a little rest and some food.”

“Replenish strength while we move,” he said. “We must keep going.”

“Don’t be a fool, elf,” Him said. “We were rushed from our camp this morning before we even had time to dress properly, much less break our fast. If the lady does not rest and eat, she will surely collapse.”

“I may not collapse, but I do agree that we need to rest. We’ll set up a small camp and rest briefly and have a bite.”

Gorigast was put out, but said nothing more aloud. He could be heard from time to time muttering under his breath about time being wasted, but he didn’t fully voice his objections once Meredith had put her foot down.

At last they set up a small camp just inside the copse on the other side of the glen, and Meredith spread the blanket she’d been shielding herself with on the ground. Peering out beyond the dark canopy as she settled in to sit down, she noticed that the rain had slowed to a lulling shower and it looked as though the sun followed them on their path.

“It looks like the sun may shine on us yet,” she noted.

Him followed her gaze, squinting toward the eerie silver light breaking through the heaviness above. “That is strange,” he noted. “They always said the sun did not shine in the Wald, something about the dark magic keeping its light at bay.”

“Sun does not shine on the Wald,” Gorigast interjected. “At least it did not, but some things, they are changing now.”

“Changing?” Him looked toward their guide. “How so?”

“I know not how, only that it changes.” Gorigast had distanced himself from them by sitting several feet away from the blanket and sulking.

“What kinds of changes?” Meredith tried.

He didn’t look away from her when she asked him with the same nervous presence Him seemed to inspire in the frail creature, but stared almost boldly, a strange twist of a smile lighting his face.

“Life,” he whispered. “Life returns.”

“How is that possible?” Him lifted his hand to the ever-growing stubble shadowing his chin. “Part of the original curse was the darkness, and Sylvanus says that every year Kothar is king the shades of the Wald draw closer to our world.”

“Some speak of prophecies,” Gorigast murmured.

Him’s astonishment seemed to render some respect where there had been none before. “You know of the prophecies?” 

The elf trembled, his lower lip quivered and his eyes welled with unexplained tears. “I know the prophecies. Once brought me hope,” he blinked and looked away from their interest. “In a world of darkness, the promise of light drives.” He reached down and clenched his fist in the mud beside him. “Ages searching for it, one by one lost to shadows and dust.”

Gorigast’s statement brought a lingering silence upon them, unbroken by the subtle drum of raindrops on the earth.

Meredith broke bread and shared cheese with her companions, and Gorigast studied the gift with tearing eyes. His thanks caught in the back of his throat, but the smile he offered in exchange was thanks enough. They ate quietly, each of them wrapped in their own thoughts.

Meredith tried to imagine how hard it had been for Gorigast, living in the Wald all those years alone, no one to talk with but himself. She wasn’t even sure how long it had been, but judging from the look of him, and the fact that the kingdom he’d come from was nothing more than legend, she imagined several lifetimes had come and gone.

She had only been the Wald’s captive for a few hours and it had already gotten into her skin in ways she was sure would never come clean. There was the ever-present odor of damp and rot, as though it never stopped raining long enough for plant life to grow. There were a great number of fungi of the likes she’d never seen before crawling out from under the decaying trunks of the long-dormant trees. The fungi seemed to be the only source of color in so drab a landscape, richly decked in dark orange, royal purple and blood red.

The greatest mystery of the Wald however was the silence. Surely there were others lost in its depths, the occasional animal or wandering explorer. So far they had seen no one and heard nothing at all. It had never occurred to Meredith before how she had taken the simple sounds of nature for granted, but there in the Wald she longed for their comfortable familiarity in ways she had never done before.

It was unnatural for the world to be so quiet.

“Are there no streams nearby?” She wondered, straining her ears for the sound of gurgling water that wasn’t there.

Gorigast nodded and brushed the crumbs from his tattered vest. “Streams all over the Wald.”

She shook her head. “It’s just so silent.”

A pitiful understanding widened the rims of the old elf’s eyes. “Always silent, like death.”

The strangest thing to Meredith was how well the Wald still mimicked the ritual and grace of its former beauty. Just looking up into the vacant canopy of long-dead trees she could easily picture it in all its glory. Lush and green, heavy leaves shuddering in a peaceful breeze while a host of colorful birds twittered from branch to branch in a curious game. She could almost hear their chirrups stringing together to accompany the drumming rain.

Silver sunlight dabbed at the distant openings between the leaves and reached out to the lush ferns the decked the forest floor. Yes, she grieved. It had been beautiful once, and the longing and sadness of the land caused the heaviness in the air.

Her heart went out to Gorigast, though she would never so openly show him pity for fear of embarrassing him. Despite his situation, he seemed proud, and already they had taken his generosity for granted.

Him had a point in his distrust, after all they were in the Wald, but so far he’d done his best to show them the way. While she’d never admit it to Him or anyone else, she trusted Gorigast, and was grateful they had met him.

“Will we make the castle before nightfall?” Him wondered aloud.

Gorigast nodded eagerly. “If we waste less time resting.”

“Waste time resting,” Him muttered, a soft laugh catching in his throat. “Yes, I suppose we have wasted enough time resting. Are you ready to move on, Merry?”

She looked up into his playful eyes, their warmth sparking the memory of his arms around her.  He was thinking of her too, maybe even remembering the taste of her lips on his tongue, or the way her hair smelled as he’d buried his face into her shoulder. If only they could return to that place and time and stay there forever, she daydreamed.

She sighed and said, “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

They begrudgingly packed up camp and fell into place behind their guide, only this time Merry and Him walked shoulder to shoulder, both of them daydreaming. They wove through the dark and twisted forest behind their guide, who seemed all too happy for their silence.

Finally, Meredith leaned in and quietly asked, “Do you still think he will lead us astray?”

“Perhaps.” Him shrugged as he stood upright again. “Or it could be worse.”

“What could possibly be worse than being lost in the Wald?” She shuddered at the thought, a moment’s anxiety rippling through her to think they might already be lost.

“Death.”