whatever.” He cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed, “Do you hear me, ferry? Need! Here! We need you now!”
Grimalkin flattened his ears, and the Wolf’s hackles went up as he looked at me. “How did he ever survive so long without something tearing his throat out?” he growled.
“Believe me, I’ve wondered the same.”
“The ferry will come to us,” Ariella said, causing everyone to turn and stare at her. She gazed down the river, her eyes glazed, distant and a million miles away. “I’ve seen it. In my visions. It will appear, when it is time.”
“When will that be?” I asked.
“I don’t know. But it will not be here. I’ve seen the boat, and a long, long pier. That is all I know.”
“Well …” Puck sighed, grabbing another pebble. “I guess we’re looking for some kind of dock. Anyone know where we can find one?”
There was no answer to that, and he sighed again. “Guess we’re hoofing it, then.”
THE FOREST ON OUR SIDE of the river soon changed, almost as abruptly as a door slamming. The lights faded, and the trees became twisted, warped versions of themselves, branches creaking and groaning though there was no wind. The stars disappeared, and the river turned even blacker, reflecting nothing but a sickly red moon, peering through the clouds like a lone bloodshot eye. I figured we were still in the nightmare stretch of the river, and hoped nothing would come lurching up from those dark waters or out of the trees, both much too close for comfort.
“Don’t stare into the forest too long, prince,” the Wolf growled, as something rustled in the bushes to the side. “Direct eye contact will draw attention to yourself from the things that live there. And they aren’t pretty, trust me.”
“You mean they’re even scarier than you?” Puck joked, and the Wolf gave him an eerie smile that was all teeth.
“I was born from human fear and suspicion,” the Wolf growled, sounding proud of the fact. “Their stories, their legends, gave me power. But these are creatures of human nightmares, pure, mindless, screaming terror. They come crawling out of that river and escape into the forest, and the forest twists and warps into a landscape of what humans fear the most. If you want to meet some of these creatures, feel free to draw their gaze. Just try not to go insane when you finally see one.”
Puck snorted. “Please. Who do you think you’re talking to? I
Puck leaped backward, almost tripping over himself. Grimalkin hissed and vanished, and I drew my sword. On the banks of the river, holding a fishing pole in two white, long-fingered hands, an enormous, wild-haired creature turned to stare at us.
I stared at it. It was fey, it had to be, but I’d never seen anything like it. It didn’t have a body, just a huge, bulbous head covered in shaggy white hair that hung down to its knees. No, not knees …
I tensed, ready to attack should the giant lunge at us. That single leg, once taken out, would make it easy to bring this huge creature down. But the giant only blinked at us sleepily, then turned to gaze at the river again, where the string of his fishing pole met the water.
The Wolf panted, grinning at Puck, who had leaped to his feet, furiously brushing mud from his pants. Ariella stepped up beside me, her apathy forgotten as we gazed up at the strange creature, continuing to fish as if nothing had happened. “What is that?” she whispered, clutching my arm. “I’ve never seen a creature like this before. Is this some kind of human nightmare?”
“It’s not a nightmare,” the Wolf said, sitting down to watch us. “It’s fey, just like you, but it doesn’t have a name. At least, none that anyone can remember.”
“I did not think any still existed,” Grimalkin said, reappearing on a piece of driftwood, his tail still fluffed out to twice its size. He peered up at the oblivious giant and sniffed. “This may be the very last one.”
“Well, endangered or not, maybe it can help us,” Puck said, edging up to the giant’s treelike leg. “Oy, stumpy! Yeah, you!” he called as the giant’s massive head swiveled around to stare at him. “Can you understand me?”
The Wolf blinked at Puck, astonished, and Ariella pressed a little bit closer to me. I could feel her soft fingers gripping my arm, and casually reached for my sword hilt. “I’m not about to scrape you off the bottom of its foot, Goodfellow,” I warned.
“Touched that you care, prince,” Puck called back, retreating a few steps to meet the giant’s gaze, craning his head up. “Hey there,” he greeted, waving cheerfully. “We don’t mean to intrude, but would you be able to answer a couple questions?” He blinked as the giant continued to stare. “Uh, bob once for yes, twice for no.”
The faery shifted, and I tensed, ready to attack if it tried to stomp Puck like an irritating cockroach. But the giant only pulled his line out of the river and turned to face Puck square on.
“What … do … you … want?” it asked, very slowly, as if it was just remembering how to talk. Puck’s eyebrows shot up.
“Oh, hey, you can speak, after all. Excellent.” He turned to grin at me, and I stared back, unamused. “We were just wondering,” Puck continued, giving the giant his best charming smile, “how much farther to the End of the World? Just as a curiosity. Do you know? You look like a local, you’ve been here awhile, right? What do you think?”
“I … do not remember,” the giant said, frowning as if such a thought pained him. “I am sorry. I do not remember.”
“You won’t get anything useful out of him, Goodfellow,” the Wolf growled, standing up. “He doesn’t even remember why he’s here.”
“I was … looking for something,” the giant mused, his large eyes going glassy. “In … the river, I think. I forgot what it was, but … I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Oh.” Puck looked disappointed, but only for a moment. “Well, how about a boat, then?” he went on, undaunted. “If you’ve been here awhile, you must’ve seen a boat floating down the river once or twice.”
The Wolf shook his head and turned to stalk down the riverbank, obviously fed up with the conversation. But the giant frowned, his huge brows knitting together, and nodded thoughtfully.
“A boat. Yes … I remember a boat. Always going in the same direction.” He pointed with a pale white finger in the direction we were headed. “That way. It makes one stop, just one, at the dock on the river’s edge.”
I looked up sharply. “Where?”
The giant’s furrows deepened. “A town? A settlement? I think I remember … houses. Others … like me. Lots of mist …”
He blinked and shrugged, which looked strange because he had no shoulders. “I don’t remember.”
With a final blink, he turned away, as if forgetting we were there, and none of Puck’s continued prodding seemed to reach him.
“Do you know anything about this town?” I asked Grimalkin as we continued down the riverbank. Farther ahead, the Wolf had stopped again and was looking back in annoyance. I would’ve asked him, but he looked ready to snap someone’s head off.
“I only know legends, prince.” Grimalkin picked his way over the ground, avoiding puddles and mincing his way through the mud. “I have never been to this so-called town myself, but there are very, very old stories about a place in the Deepest Wyld where the fey go to die.”
I stared at the cat. “What do you mean?”
Grimalkin sighed. “Among other things, the town is known as Phaed. Do not bother telling me you have never heard of it. I already know you have not. It is a place for those whom no one remembers anymore. Just as stories, belief and imagination make us stronger, the lack of them slowly kills, even those in the Nevernever, until there is nothing left. That giant we saw? He is one of them, the Forgotten, clinging to existence by the thread of those who still remember him. It is only a matter of time before he is simply not there anymore.”
