Clutching my gruesome mount, I sped deep into the heart of the forest. The green grew darker and darker until it was almost pitch black, until the forest itself became an impenetrable shadow. The limbs of the fir trees were piled up above me, and all trace of the sky and sunlight had vanished. There were no animals, no birds or insects, nor even any plants other than the firs—these trees that seemed to have such a seething hatred for children. There were no more voices here, no sound at all.
How deep could the forest be? How far was I going? Outside, the sun would be shining, the day still warm, but around me all was darkness. I could no longer distinguish one tree from another. Hejdanatt’s headless body seemed to know the way though.
But then as we rushed on through the forest, the silence was broken, the patter of Hejdanatt’s hands and feet turning into a new song.
The last one, the last, but you get the best!
You’ll suffer the most, hurt more than the rest!
More pain and more sorrow, more suffering and sting,
But slowly, so slowly, you’ll die—that’s the thing!
The last one, the last, the last one to go!
But what is your name? I’m anxious to know!
So tell me, do tell me, and then if you will,
I’ll wait just a moment, be slow to the kill!
And even the pain—I may make it less.
But still in the end, you’ll die like the rest.
I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, the last one to go!
I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, though ever so slow!
Your legs and your arms and your head I’ll pluck out.
Your guts will come tumbling, will pour from the spout!
So slowly, so slowly, I’ll watch as you perish!
Laughing and dancing—the moment I’ll cherish!
So pleasant! So painful! I’ll watch as you die!
So die, die, die, die, die, die, DIE!
With my hands holding tight to Hejdanatt’s shoulders, I couldn’t cover my ears. I thought about trying to block out the song with my own voice, but I had no idea what would come out of my mouth. I could only clench my teeth and listen.
For a long time, Hejdanatt’s body ran straight ahead, deeper into the forest, but then it abruptly began to veer off, making a long, gradual curve to the right. Eventually I realized that Hejdanatt—or what was left of her—was making clockwise circuits. One lap…two. And still she ran on. Three, then four laps, but as we were beginning the fifth, I began to see that the circle was slowly shrinking in diameter. The trees we had passed on the inside the last time around were now moving past us on the outside. The body was tracing a great vortex—but what was waiting for me at the center?
I squinted toward the spot where our spiral was converging, where my ride would end, but it was still a good way off, and I couldn’t see for the trees. Hejdanatt’s footsteps—and handsteps—were repeating the same word over and over now.
Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die!
The circles were growing tighter and faster, and so at last I jumped from the headless back. I hit the ground and rolled for a few yards until I struck a tree trunk. The blow sent a wave of pain through my shoulder, but I couldn’t cry out, couldn’t even groan.
Ignoring my injury as best I could, I scrambled to my feet and began walking toward the center of the dark spiral Hejdanatt’s body had been tracing. It was so murky that I couldn’t even see to avoid the fir branches, which struck me in the face again and again, but I soon learned to move slowly, holding both hands out in front of me.
Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!
Hejdanatt’s racing steps—and the song with them—passed behind me and receded to the far side of the circle. I ignored them and walked on.
Every time my foot tread on a dried branch or struck a root, my heart skipped a beat. I had the terrible feeling I might be stepping on Nulla or Inte, Adju or Nej, whose bodies had flown here to the heart of the forest. If that happened, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from screaming or from begging forgiveness from the body of my dead friend. But just as surely, if I did, my voice would turn into my own name and I would suffer that slow, painful death that the song of Hejdanatt’s footsteps had promised.
My whole body was trembling, but I kept on my course to the center of the spiral. I knew somehow that I had to see whatever it was that I would find there; and, too, I was all but certain I would find Olle, most likely in the same state as the others—arms and legs and even head ripped from his body. The prospect was frightening, and I was sure I’d scream—and immediately suffer a fate like Olle’s or perhaps still worse.
But what did it matter? I’d come here to find him, and if I could just manage to do that, then I didn’t care what happened afterwards.
Suddenly I was brought up short. What was that? In the distance, among all the enormous fir trees, in exactly the spot for which I was heading, I could make out a more slender tree that appeared to be moving in an odd fashion. The limbs were swaying back and forth, up and down, quite at random, while the trunk twisted around and around.
But I quickly realized it wasn’t a fir tree
