An icy wind screamed through the trees and assailed them. It was almost alive, tearing at their clothes and howling in their ears – so real Allyra felt as if she might understand its melancholy wail if she just concentrated hard enough.
The wind threw up swirling particles of sand that scraped painfully against her eyelids and soon she could no longer see where they were going. But, he continued to stride forward with confidence; his grip on her hand was firm and warm. His hand in hers became her lifeline, her single point of focus. She concentrated on it, allowing his heat to soak into her skin, chasing away the icy fear curled in the pit of her stomach.
As suddenly as stepping through the curtain of a waterfall, the wind died away. As her vision cleared, Allyra found herself in a new world of beauty and complete silence, in total contrast to the violent chaos she’d been mired in just seconds ago.
The vast forest was blanketed by gentle snowfall. Pale light danced through the trees and played on the icy facets creating a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of color on the brilliant white snow. It left her speechless, unable to ask how or where or what this was.
Perhaps it was a childhood spent under a blazing African sun, but she’d always found something magical and wonderful about the stark whiteness of snow.
She stole a glance at him, wondering if he found it just as captivating, but the beauty apparently escaped him – instead he was looking behind them, back into the blinding chaos created by the howling gale. Worry was strained across his face.
He turned to her, his elegant features once again blank and emotionless, and for a moment, she wondered if she had imagined his concern.
“This is the Walking Forest.” His voice was strong and steady and she found reassurance in his confidence. “The trees here are…”
He hesitated and glanced at the massive forest. “Alive and they don’t like being disturbed.”
She searched his face, trying to understand what he was trying to tell her. A strange sense of humor perhaps? No – there was something about him that suggested that he didn’t have much to laugh about in his life. She turned back to the forest and looked more closely – trying to see beyond the bewitching beauty. She blinked as she realized that the trees were actually moving.
It had escaped her previously, probably because her mind couldn’t quite comprehend trees that actually moved. Or perhaps because the trees were moving with synchronized precision, every move choreographed and practiced.
Disbelieving, she moved forward, clumsily searching for an answer. Her mind screamed for her to find something, anything that might resemble a logical explanation.
His grip on her hand tightened like a vice and he pulled her back. Her attention snapped back to him, having almost forgotten his presence.
“Be careful.” He warned, “They value their solitude. Crossing this forest isn’t something to be taken lightly.”
“So why are we here?”
He turned to look over his shoulder again, and she realized he was still conflicted by his decision – that despite his calm voice and steady hand, he was far from being sure.
“Why?” she asked again when he didn’t answer.
He stared at her, the barest crease between his eyebrows as if he might see something in her face to help him make this decision. The silence stretched between them, as taunt as an over tightened string.
Embarrassed by the intensity of his gaze, she dropped her eyes and surreptitiously brushed her hand across her face, wondering if she had somehow grown a third eye or second nose.
He shook his head and smiled briefly – a wry, mocking smile that seemed more aimed at himself than her. “We’re here because the things chasing us won’t follow us into the forest. Their fear of the Walking Forest outweighs their desire to kill us.”
If his intention had been to reassure her – he fell well short of the mark. She felt panic unfurling itself, icy tendrils weaving through her veins. She snatched her hand away from him and stumbled backwards.
“I’m sorry…” She couldn’t quite find the words – it was all catching up to her and her mind shattered into a million pieces.
He approached her gently as if she were a wild horse he was seeking to tame. “I know it’s a lot to try to comprehend – “
“No. NO!” She burst out, completely overwhelmed and good manners finally deserting her. “No – I really don’t think you do! And I don’t want to comprehend. I don’t want to know how trees… how trees walk. Or what in the world a Revenant is. I don’t even need you to explain what you want with me. All I want is to go home.”
She’d been reduced to a begging, petulant child and she saw pity flash across his face. For a brief moment of clarity, she was incandescently furious; it burned white and violent within her. How dare he pity her when he was the cause of all of this?
“I’m sorry.” He said softly.
It was so absolutely inadequate that she gathered herself to either scream at him or laugh hysterically. Before she could decide which, she felt it – anguish and guilt. It was reverberating off him, like sound waves from a vibrating string, invisible but tangible. It was so real, so solid, she could almost see them – dark vines wrapping around him, threatening to choke the life out of him.
The anger rushed out of her, leaving her empty and hollow. She believed him – whatever reason he had to trap her here, it wasn’t something he’d done willingly. As their eyes met again, she realized he did understand – that he could see her pain as clearly as she saw his.
He reached for her hesitantly, but this time she allowed him to take her hand.
