The urge to get up and kill everyone around her was growing. It took all her control to stay squatted down near the thing, watching as Jocasta jerked her hands back, then tried again.
When the mask came free, her vision filled with a bright light, stabbing into her brain like she had looked directly at the sun. It cleared a moment later, leaving a throbbing headache. She saw the black muck and the things writhing in it.
It was beautiful. It was something that should be everywhere. And she could help make that happen. Reach in, grab a handful and smear it…
She pushed herself upright and took off running, slamming into Jamshir, then past him. She ran down the stairs and out of the tree, drawing in great gasping breaths of air.
The coolness outside helped. Her vision cleared and she was able to think again, although her head still pounded. The forest was in shadow. The sun was starting to go down.
Whatever that thing was, whatever vile things Jamshir had invited in this time, it was the cause of this.
No. Not the cause. One of the symptoms. Like the surly derelicts she saw here at Glittering Birch, or the scouts at her own house. Only more so. More complete.
It was her future. If she didn’t find a way to stop this, she’d be one of them and she’d do everything she could to infect everyone else, until the entire Greenweald, then the land beyond, was the same.
Her horse was nowhere around.
“Ha. Better sense than me,” she muttered.
A few Glittering Birch soldiers loitered around, watching her from hooded eyes, their hands on their weapons.
Shireen drew herself up.
“Well? Are you going to try it?”
Smirks met her challenge, then melted away, the soldiers not wanting any fight with her.
She scoffed and walked across the compound and back into the Greenweald.
♦ ♦ ♦
The closer she got to Towering Oaks, the better she started to feel. The trees, especially the oaks, helped soothe her. Her head still hurt, but she could recognize the thoughts she was having as alien, coming from beyond her.
At least, that was what she told herself.
“Are you sure about that?” her inner voice asked. “Maybe not. Maybe this is what you always wanted.”
“Shut up.” She muttered it out loud, keeping her eyes on the path in front of her, not wanting to run into anyone else.
“Let it go. Why fight? It’s only getting worse.”
“You don’t know me very well.”
But that thought terrified her. She was deathly afraid the little voice was from inside her, and that it knew her very well indeed.
When she drew close to the Towering Oaks compound, she slowed.
“Stay focused,” she told herself.
She approached to within hailing distance and yelled out to get the guard’s attention.
The young woman on duty looked up in surprise, took a moment to recognize her, and then started forward.
“No!” Shireen held up her hand. “Stay back there, away from me. I don’t want you to come any closer. Go get Orlando. Bring him back here, but not closer than you are now.”
The sentry looked confused, but saluted and ran off, glancing back at her only once.
Shireen found a large oak and leaned her head against it.
She took comfort from it. Ancient, patient, sturdy. Light and air played in its upper branches, while its roots went deep, anchoring it solidly and drinking clean water.
“Cut it down. Burn it.”
The voice was quieter now. Against this mighty tree, which had stood here for so long, it was nothing but a minor annoyance. Shireen gave herself over to it, let her mind flow with the movement of sap. For a moment, the voice fell silent, her head stopped hurting and she was at peace.
“Shireen?”
She opened her eyes and pushed away from the trunk. Taking a deep breath, she turned away, feeling the headache return.
Orlando. Simple, small, petty, stupid Orlando.
“Stop it,” she whispered.
“Shireen,” he said again. “What are you doing?”
He stayed back where she told the sentry to stay. Afraid to come any closer, she was sure.
“Not fair,” she told herself. “Stop it.”
With an effort, she gathered her wits.
“I came back to warn you. About the thing in green. It’s not alive…or not really…”
She trailed off, suddenly unsure of what she was trying to warn him about.
“It’s dangerous. But beautiful, too.”
Wait. That wasn’t right. They weren’t beautiful, they were horrible. Weren’t they?
“We know,” Orlando said. “We saw one not long ago. The scouts tried to track it, but the signs suddenly disappeared. What are they?”
“Wrong,” she said. “They’re wrong.”
Orlando nodded. “Okay. Are you coming in?”
Stupid question. Couldn’t he see? Couldn’t he feel? Did he want the whole place infected?
“What about the others? Has it spread?” she asked.
Orlando didn’t answer for a moment, then, “Yes. We’ve isolated those we could, but it doesn’t seem to be doing much good.”
Of course not. Good. Soon, they’d all be the same.
Although, there were those who would stay as they were now. Small, insignificant, weak. Then there were those who would get to change: become faster, tougher.
“Are you coming in?” Orlando asked again.
“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t let it spread. Stop it.”
She turned away, but he called her back.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. Away. To find an answer maybe.”
She had to. And she had to go now, before she did rush into the compound, spreading whatever it was she was infected with everywhere. She half turned toward Orlando. Him first. It would be fun.
She forced herself to turn her back on her home again and take a step. Just the first one. That was the hardest.
“I love you,” Orlando called.
Of course,
