Dark Pools and Enemy Trees
Marie wanted to start the search that very moment, but knew she could not. She had to get back home and face the inevitable: another lecture from her father followed by yet another grounding sentence for returning after dark. But she wasn’t troubled. After knowing the truth, Marie badly wanted to see her father and wrap her arms around him. She now fully empathized with what he had been through these past three years— how he must have felt losing not only his wife, but a part of his daughter too. Marie’s heart broke imagining this as she madly peddled her bike home.
Perion had led them back to where they left their bikes. They agreed to meet again by sunrise at the path leading to the rock ledge. Both Perion and Courinn had pledged to help Marie in any way they could. Though she only met them hours ago, Marie already trusted both completely. They delivered to Marie the truth of what her life had really been these past years. Nothing the globe amulet had shown her could be a hoax of any sort, the kind of trick Bettyann or Tilda would have loved to play on a vulnerable, unsuspecting victim. The amulet had woken up forgotten memories and feelings deep inside Marie. She knew this was all too real.
“Dad, I’m okay, I’m very sorry,” said Marie as she rushed through the front door. “I know I’m so late.”
Her father was sitting inside the living room, appearing as if he’d been staring out of the window for some time. He took an exasperated, if not a tad relieved breath as he stood.
“This has to end, Marie,” he said. “I can’t keep you locked inside your room day and night, but if I have to, I’ll take away everything that’s important to you.”
“Something’s already done that,” thought Marie to herself, remaining silent as her finger lightly stroked the charm now safely in her pocket. Her father wasn’t done. She knew there was more to come.
“Two weeks grounded, after school and weekends,” he said sternly. “That includes no horse riding. I don’t want you near those knucklehead friends of yours.”
“Whoa, he’s really mad,” thought Marie. She stared at her father with what normally would have been anger at hearing her punishment; she instead felt sadness and emptiness for him— and her. She really wanted to hug him tightly, this moment.
“I’m sorry, dad,” she said. “I know how angry you are with me.” She could hold back no longer. She ran to him and threw her arms around him. James was genuinely surprised at this reaction, even more so at how tightly she embraced him. It had been years since he saw a display of emotion like this from his daughter. She peered up at him as he softly touched her tear-dampened cheeks.
“Are you okay, Marie?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered immediately as if to comfort him.
“What happened tonight? What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern suddenly mounting.
“You don’t have to ever worry about me hanging around Bettyann or the others,” she answered. “I don’t want them near me anymore.”
She hugged him even harder. Fulfilling a long overdue ache, he let his arms drop around her with a slow exhale and savored firmly hugging his only daughter, his only child. The only love James had left.
“Dad, things have changed,” said Marie. “I promise they have.”
That night, after her father put her to bed, Marie made her preparations. She packed her school book-bag with an extra set of clothes along with a compass, rain poncho, Swiss army knife, a filled water canister and some snacks. She then emptied her equine-shaped bank. In it was an envelope, which read, ‘Horse Saddle Savings’. She opened the envelope, checking her money— a fair amount saved for a thirteen year old— and stuffed it in her pants pocket for the morning. Then she sat down to write a letter.
“Dear Dad,I understand now what you’ve been through over the last few years. It must have been so tough, bringing me back and forth to the doctor and never seeing me get better. But you always showed me how much you loved me when mom was gone, and I’m so proud that you’re my father. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve gotten into again and again, and for making things so hard, and you worrying about me. Now I know what it was like to lose mommy and how much you miss her. But dad, I promise, things are going to be good again for you and me ... and for mom. I promise you and I love you and I will see you again very soon. Please don’t worry about me, I am fine, I’m with some new friends, you will like them, not like those other knuckleheads. Soon we’ll be together again and then mommy can see us play chess and watch the space show and pointed ears guy with us.
Daddy, you made a mistake about one thing. Sometimes magic is real.
I love you, your Marie”
When Marie woke up some hours later, it was still dark outside. She couldn’t sleep much anyway with the thoughts in her head. As she got dressed, she slipped a beautiful pair of earrings through her newly pierced ears, realizing now they were her mother’s. She left the letter she wrote on her pillow.
She opened the screen latch on her bedroom window, which Marie long ago had rigged to easily get out of the house, unnoticed. She had used it only a few times, mostly for her escapades with Bettyann, Tilda and Trish. In two minutes, Marie was standing outside her window in the moist spring air. Her bike was waiting in the yard, where she purposely left it instead of the garage. She slung her book-bag between the handlebars.
Her first stop was school, where Marie made her way straight to the window she broke only hours ago. She pulled out the envelope of her savings, with a scotch-taped note reading, “For Broken Window, I’m Very Sorry” and placed the money inside. Then she rode off, hoping she didn’t run into the sheriff or his men patrolling at this early hour.
Courinn was waiting for her when she arrived at the meeting point, at the path leading up to the rock ledge, just as the sun was rising in a thick, orange haze.
“Did you get any sleep?” asked Marie.
“A little,” answered Courinn, swiping her hair aside. Doing so, Marie suddenly noticed what was unusual about Courinn’s face: despite her black hair, she had bright yellow, almost golden eyebrows. “Did you get in trouble?” she added.
“Grounded two weeks. How ‘bout you?”
“Just about the same.”
“Oh man, I’m sorry,” said Marie. “Look, I can’t ask anything from you and Perion, this is something I have to do.”
“We want to help,” said a voice above them. As they looked up, Perion leaped down from a high tree branch with little effort, where he had been listening. He really was incredibly agile for his age.
“How long have you been up there?” asked Marie with an amused grin. “Did you get into trouble too for being out so late?”
“No,” said Perion. “I don’t have school to worry about, it’s a little different for me.”
“No school!” exclaimed an envious Marie.
“We learn plenty from the professor,” said Perion.
“Who is the professor?” asked Marie.
“You’ll meet him soon. If you still want our help.”
“Of course I do,” said Marie. “You’ve both been so kind but I don’t know what’s ahead for me or how dangerous it’s going to be.”
“We sort of feel a part of things now,” said Courinn.
“We brought you the charm that got you started,” said Perion. “We’d like to see things to the end, if you understand.”
Marie smiled warmly. She really had found two remarkable new friends. She pulled the globe out from her pocket and placed it around her neck. “So, where do we start?”
“We go see the professor,” answered Perion. “He knows something about that globe charm. I thought I once saw him with it, maybe a year ago so he must have had it or had one just like it. He’ll know what to do next.”
“What’s he like?” asked Marie. “He’s not ... mean, is he?” She had heard stories of a crazy mad scientist who lived somewhere near the edge of the woods and was wondering if this professor was the same person.
“Professor Mifflin is like a father to me and my friends,” assured Perion. He has taken care of us for a while now. He’s looking forward to meeting you, Marie. You’ll like him, I’m sure.”
“He’s cool,” said Courinn, “and he’s good to young people.
“All right, lead the way,” said Marie.
They followed the path back to Luck’s End Loop, once again entering the wood. The rising sunlight faded a bit as they entered, leaving a pale ambience around them.
After a short distance, Courinn had them hide their bikes in an area of thickly fallen tree trunks. With a scattering of leaves over them, they could not be easily seen. Then Perion led them forward away to their right. Marie checked her compass in confusion as they walked. “This doesn’t make sense. It says we’re moving south and a little to the west.”
“That device is not going to be any use in here,” said Courinn.
“We’re heading due northeast right now,” said Perion.
Marie bit her cheek and shook her compass. Reading the same result, she replaced it in her book bag. “How far is the professor’s house?”
“Some four miles from here,” answered Perion. “Let’s hope we catch an easy time of it. We should be there by midday.”
“Four miles?” said Marie. “You went all that way home and back this morning?”
Perion said nothing as Marie noticed he wore the same clothes as yesterday, only looking a tad more rumpled. She then knew he had slept in the woods.
On they went, with Perion leading. He appeared quite at ease moving through the wood, familiar with their direction. To Marie, it seemed an endless sea of woodland. There were no clear paths, only occasional remains of old trails. She also noticed Courinn showed a real sense of sure-footedness within the forest. As they plunged deeper, the trees grew ever closer together.
“Courinn, it looks like you’ve been in the woods a lot,” said Marie.
Courinn smiled. “I have. My father also told me much about it before he died. By the way, Marie, I want to thank you for what you did.”
“Me? When?”
“You defended me, someone you just met yesterday, in front of your friends.”
“They’re not my friends anymore,” said Marie.
“But unlike them, you gave me the benefit of doubt,” said Courinn. “That took courage and meant much to me. Thank you again.”
“Your welcome,” said Marie.
An hour or more passed. They walked in single file, still following no visible path. Perion would at times touch a particular tree or trees to confirm that they were traveling correctly. In spite of the woods’ calm, there were on several occasions’ strange sounds echoing in the distance. Marie could not discern what they might be, as the noises were unlike anything she had ever heard before.
There were occasional bird sightings. In particular, Marie spotted two large owls perched in the heights above, peering down, as if in suspicion they might be up to something no good. The amount of insect life was different too, much less than Marie normally saw in the spring. She was particularly surprised by one fact: the total absence of the mayfly, a yearly annoyance that the folk of Gulliver County dreaded each year at this time. They hatched and went about their business in swarms of armies until they were gone again within a month. Where were they now?
The pale daylight remained nearly the same, despite the fact that the sun outside was reaching mid-morning— leaving them little clue as to the time of day. The smell of the woods was also different: a light, sweet fragrance that Marie could not place, but was pleasing and seemed to somehow put her at ease as she readily took it into her lungs. Yet there was nothing stranger than this so far. Marie was thinking again that perhaps Spellhollow Wood was really not the big deal everyone thought it was.
“How far have we come?” she asked, annoyed with carrying her book-bag. She was getting a bit tired, not having slept well.
“We should be reaching the final stretch, if we’re lucky,” answered Perion. “I don’t sense many changes in the woods today. We’ve done all right”.
“Changes in the woods?” Marie asked. “What kind?”
“Many kinds, sometimes extreme,” he answered. “The wood has a mind and will of it’s own. Are you tired?” he added, seeing her annoyance with the book-bag.
She nodded. “A bit hungry too. I brought some snacks for us.”
“There’s a place right up ahead we can stop and rest.”
They went on a little ways more until they heard a new sound. Perion stopped short and listened keenly. It was like a gurgling noise, Marie thought. They cautiously advanced. Yes, it was a gurgling, bubbling sound as if something thick and creamy were boiling. Courinn and Perion glanced at one another and Marie caught the concern in their eyes.
“That couldn’t be what I think it is,” said Courinn.
“What?” asked Marie.
Perion eyed a slight ridge just ahead of them, the place he thought to rest. “We’ll approach warily,” he said. “Be on the alert, Courinn. Marie, stay behind us.”
They drew nearer. The sound grew much louder, like a gooey bubbling of something quite dense. As they crested the ridge, Perion put his arm out, holding them from approaching further. “Stay back,” he said quickly as they each gazed ahead.
It was a shimmering black pool set in a recess beyond the ridge. No more than ten feet in length, either way. However, as the noise revealed, it thickly bubbled and boiled. But in spite of this activity, its dark-gooiness was mirror-like. Within it, all the woods were keenly reflected, making the pool particularly intoxicating to the senses. Marie seemed more hungry and thirsty than ever while staring at it. She really wanted to go closer.
“It looks so beautiful,” she said, while sniffing at the air, for the pool exhibited a sweet, wholesome aroma, which seemed to Marie like some luscious candy or freshly baked cake. She took an eager step toward it.
Both Perion and Courinn grabbed her fast. Marie seemed suddenly lost in her senses as she struggled to get closer. “Let me just touch it and feel what it’s like,” she wished aloud.
“No, do not go near it,” warned Courinn. “That pool is quite deadly.”
Marie pushed hard against Perion and Courinn’s grip. “Turn her away!” said Perion. “Stop her from staring!”
“Let me go!” cried Marie, now desperately struggling to get away.
They managed to spin Marie around with her back facing the pool, and as soon as they did so, she was easier to hold. Though she calmed down in the next few moments, Marie continued sniffing at the pool’s sugary odor, which still kept a hold on her. Perion and Courinn backed her away a distance, until she at last regained control.
“What was that thing?” asked Marie.
“The lair of a gight,” said Courinn. “A deadly creature that lives under the ooze. The monster uses its bubbling slime to attack unsuspecting victims. As it draws them closer, it pulls them in, where they are never heard from again.”
“It looked and smelled so delicious,” said Marie, still licking her lips from the effects of the demon’s trap.
“Which you would have been to the gight,” said Perion, “if you got any closer. It might smell tempting, but the pool is a quick-killing poison if one drinks from it.”
“Are we safe now?” asked Marie.
“If we stay away,” said Perion. “The demon itself can’t come out. But I wonder at it having moved to this part of the wood. We must let the professor know.”
“The gight’s lair can move about anywhere within the woods,” said Courinn, “sometimes inhabiting several pools at a time. As I understood, it normally resides within Spellhollow’s western region, miles from here.”
“If it did catch you,” wondered Marie, “is there any way to get free?”
Perion shook his head, not knowing. “No,” said Courinn. “But it’s been told that you might elude the monster’s luring spell by covering your eyes and holding your breath as you approach the pool. It’s believed that might be the only way to kill the creature.”
“Not something I’d ever care to try,” said Perion. “Let’s move on quickly.”
They walked on for another ten minutes perhaps, when Perion found a nice spot for them to sit and relax a bit. It was a grassy glade under the overhang of two grand oak trees. Marie opened her book-bag and took out her water canister and some crackers and pretzels, which they all shared.
There was a large hump in the tree trunk she leaned against, so she made herself comfortable resting her head on it. She was hungrier than she realized as she eagerly munched on the snacks, reflecting on all the walking they had done so far.
“What time do you think it is?”
“Late morning,” said Perion, surveying the glade and the surrounding wood. He didn’t seem to be very hungry, barely chewing a few pretzels. He glanced up into the heights of the oak trees they were under and narrowed his gaze, as if trying hard to remember something.
“I would be in social studies right now,” said Marie. “If it was a normal school day.”
“What is so normal about school?” said Courinn, nibbling some crackers.
“Did you like it over at Woldred better?” asked Marie. “I heard the teachers there are so much meaner than here at Highland Pointe.”
“I suppose they’re the same to me,” said Courinn. “Boring”.
“From what I’ve heard, all school seems to be pretty dull,” said Perion, lightly running his fingers against the bark of a thick tree branch.
Marie’s shoulder was uncomfortable. “Sometimes,” she said, “but I like English. And Science too, because we studied a lot about animals this year.”
Courinn’s interest perked up. “Do you like animals?”
“Very much, but especially horses,” said Marie. “I’ve been riding and helping take care of two Arabian’s over at the Mashenburg farm. I hope they’ll be safe while I’m gone.”
“Horses?” said Courinn. “Yes, I have a certain affinity for them too.”
“Of all animals,” said Marie, again shifting her shoulder uncomfortably around the tree’s hump, “I think they’re the best friends we have.”
“Agreed,” said Perion, with an admitted grin. “Noble and steadfast.”
“Do you both ride?” asked Marie excitedly.
“Do I?” said Courinn. “A little, here and there.”
Perion smiled. “Very much,” he said, “But how I miss the breeds we have back home, who move as if upon the wind.”
“I want to be an equine veterinarian when I get older,” said Marie.
Courinn nodded. “I think you would be a very good one.”
Marie smiled, once more noticing the scar on Courinn’s forehead. She was going to ask her about it, but instead turned in frustration, to somehow settle comfortably against the tree. She froze, staring in confusion. The large hump behind her right shoulder was now … behind her left.
“What the heck?” she said to herself. But her confusion was halted by a shout from Perion. Looking back up, her eyes met an incredible sight. The thick branch that Perion was touching moments before had somehow lurched itself backwards— straight across his throat— where it trapped him against the oak tree’s trunk. Courinn was already up, trying to pry the branch away. As she pulled and heaved, it did not seem like the thick limb was choking Perion as it might easily have, but instead was simply holding him there. He could not move out from it.
Marie leapt to her feet. She tried her best to make some visual sense of what was happening. It was a truly bewitching thing to see. Both oak trees were not simply wafting back and forth, as they might during a storm, but were indeed moving.
Actually, you could not see the trees in motion as we know it, yet they were in fact shifting right before your eyes, as if their movements took place between eye blinks. It was like watching a movie in very slow motion, with the trees’ positions changing every few moments. Only the terrible groaning sounds that began deep from within their roots and continued pulsing upwards gave this spectacle of unworldly motion any kind of reference, adding a ghastly soundtrack to the bizarre special effect one was convinced they must be staring at.
Marie jumped next to Courinn as they both struggled to pry the branch from Perion. In seconds, it was far worse. Other thick branches of the tree had seized and pinned Perion’s arms and torso. He was now fully trapped.
“Can you breathe?” cried Courinn as Perion tried moving his locked head and neck.
“Yes, it’s not choking me!” he shouted. “It just won’t let me move!”
Marie stepped back, trying to quickly reassess the situation. She saw the other oak tree had begun entangling itself among the one holding Perion. Its limbs intertwined like hungry, searching arms as its massive trunk moved right along side the other. Marie then realized the true horror: The tree that held Perion was fighting against the other.
Whatever it wanted from Perion, it wasn’t about to share. The deep groaning became louder and more ferocious, sounding like a hundred trees moaning and creaking against a house during a magnificent storm. It sounded furious. Both great oaks now bitterly fought over Perion.
Marie began to notice marks appearing all over the trunks, roots, and branches of the enraged tree-like combatants that were not there before. They were cuts, as if someone savagely took an axe or saw to both trees, hundreds of times. Some were shallow and superficial. Others looked very old and partially grown over like thick scars, yet many were new and very deep with thick sap dribbling out of them.
Perion cried out, now buried in a sea of tangled branches. Part of his hand and arm was changing. His fingers were turning into twigs and small branches themselves. His skin was starting to form into the color and texture of bark.
“No, stop it!” shouted Marie. “Let him go!”
The trees groaned on, but their tone was now different. They seemed to be groaning in pleasure. They were forcing Perion to change— transforming him into what they were.
“Marie!” cried Courinn desperately. “Help me, please!”
Marie panted in extreme fear. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she turned and abruptly ran off.
Courinn couldn’t believe it. “No, Marie, what are you doing!” she shouted in utter desperation. “I need your help, come back!”
But Marie was gone, running off into the woods ... .
“Perion won’t make it, we need you!” cried Courinn.
“Marie!”