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They stopped walking, and the girl moved closer, reaching out a hand to touch Jordan, who tried not to cringe away from the fingers so pale they were tinged green. But something inside her told her to stand still, to let this strange fairy girl do whatever it was she wanted.
It was just a touch, a small brush of fingers that felt like a summer breeze upon her cheek. And there was that laughter again; it had followed them. Jordan didn’t turn to look for it this time; she knew whoever was giggling in little silver Tinkerbell tones would have darted away out of sight. Instead, her eyes were riveted on those of the girl in front of her.
She wanted to look away. How she wanted to look away. The face might be unlined, smooth, calm and placid, but the eyes – they were ancient and even Jordan could see they were full of secrets she would never understand. In them were a hundred thousand days and nights, the earth wheeling around the sun, the sky turning, the moon rising and falling, the sun thrusting through leaves – and there were trees. Millions of trees, growing, breathing, thinking, singing under their breaths, their voices rustling in the air, their roots digging deep, their branches spreading high and wide to touch each other.
Jordan blinked, and realised she was swaying where she stood, and she wondered how long she’d been standing there, lost in the forests contained in the fairy girl’s eyes. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. A smile quirked around the girl’s lips, and she lifted her hand again.
Jordan couldn’t help it, this time she jerked backwards, unwilling to feel that cool, papery skin graze against her own again.
But the girl – if she was even a girl – waved her hand instead, and around Jordan the forest came to life.
She could hear the trees talking. Straining to listen, she tried to make out what they were saying, but it was the lowest rumble, the merest humming, as though it had been slowed down. And maybe it had, she thought. If your lifespan was as long as a tree’s, you didn’t need to talk fast.
Blinking, trying to get used to the sound of the trees, she put a hand out to steady her, pressed her palm against the rough bark of a beech tree, and jerked it away as though shocked. She stared at her palm, then the tree, and her mouth fell open.
The tree was alive. Not in the way she was used to them being alive – now she could feel it. Feel the sap in its woody body, feel the slow-growing strength, feel the knowledge the tree had of itself and its world.
‘It’s alive,’ she said, wonder making her voice shake. She wanted to laugh. Looking around, she discovered she could see the life around her; the trees glowed. Everything shimmered and glowed, the forest lit up and all seeming somehow part of each other. She turned around on the spot, eyes sparkling, lips parted, an unconscious grin on her face. ‘It’s beautiful!’
‘We’re all alive,’ the girl said, and Jordan flipped around to gape at her. It was the first time the girl had spoken.
‘What are you?’ Jordan asked. ‘Are you a fairy?’
The girl blinked at her. ‘I am one who walks with the trees.’
Jordan licked her lips. ‘What does that mean?’ She was taken with a sudden, almost painful desire to be one who walked with the trees as well. They were so beautiful. So alive, so strong.
‘We are Guardians.’
‘But you’re just a girl.’
‘As are you.’
Jordan frowned. She didn’t really understand. ‘But I am not a guardian.’
The girl’s face was impassive, the small smile gone. ‘No, but we have noticed you.’
Wanting to press a hand to her suddenly thunderous heart, Jordan’s breath quickened. ‘What do you mean?’ She wasn’t entirely sure she should be asking. What if the answer frightened her?
‘There is a deal we can make,’ the otherworldly girl said, and her words made Jordan’s heart fall straight to her stomach, churning there in acid. Surely making deals with this girl – or guardian, or whatever she was – would be a dangerous thing?
Opening her mouth, only a stuttering sound came out, and the trees around her whispered a little louder. The girl looked up into their branches and nodded, and Jordan felt the ground shift under her a little. She was dreaming. Surely she was dreaming. She was still in the car, wedged into the back seat by the window, and she’d fallen asleep, tired at last of the constant beeping of Karel’s game, and the itch and scratch of her parent’s conversation.
Because there was no way she could be deep in the most private part of these woods, speaking to a girl who only looked human, but who was, Jordan was positive, some sort of sprite, fairy, something that belonged to the trees.
‘What’s the deal?’ she heard herself ask, and almost fell over at the sound of her voice.
‘We will help you,’ the girl said. ‘When you have need of us.’
That didn’t sound too bad. When was Jordan ever going to need the help of a bunch of trees and their little guardian girl?
But still, when she answered, her voice was just a squeak. ‘And what do I have to do?’ She was old enough to know there were two parts to every deal. A saying of her mother’s wafted into an ear: Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas.
But this was no dog – and her mother had never meant a real dog anyway; after all, they had Taffy, and her mother loved the fat old dog as much as the rest of them. She blinked and looked around again. The trees still glowed, the shadows of the forest gleamed, and everything seemed so very alive and beautiful. Abruptly, Jordan decided she’d do just about anything to help this piece of forest.
‘You must remember us,’ the girl said.
Jordan didn’t understand. How would she ever forget this? She shook her head, glanced around again, peered for a moment into those fathomless eyes. ‘I won’t ever forget this,’ she said.
Another smile crept across the girl’s face. ‘You will. But it must only be for a while. When you are older you must remember. Your grandmother will help you, but she won’t have long. You must listen, learn, and remember. And then you will be ours.’
‘Yours?’
‘Ours.’
That sounded somehow a bit scary. What did it mean? Her lip trembled. ‘What do you mean, I will be yours?’
‘You will belong to the trees.’
‘Like you do?’
‘No. Not like me. But you will fight for us.’
‘Stop them cutting you down, you mean?’
The girl tipped her head to one side, and Jordan took that to mean yes. Only a moment more and she’d decided.
‘Yes,’ she said.
But the girl surprised her again. ‘Yes what? You must say.’
For a heartbeat, Jordan didn’t know what to say. She only dimly understood what was going on, and still wasn’t completely convinced she wasn’t dreaming.
‘I agree to your deal. In exchange for your help, you will have mine. I will do all I can to protect you.’
‘And in return we will protect you. Once.’
There was no saliva in Jordan’s mouth. She wanted to lick her lips but her tongue was raspy.
‘What do you mean, once?’ She didn’t know if she ought to be asking. And the girl just blinked at her.
‘We are all one forest,’ the girl said. ‘Spread wide, but all one.’
Jordan decided she’d better nod, to show she was listening, even if she didn’t understand – not completely.
‘But there are always shadows. Dark places. Root rot sets in. Leaves are blighted. There is rust and canker. It is part of the order, even when we do not like it.’
Her words made Jordan shiver, even though she wasn’t cold. She waited for the girl to say more, but the guardian was looking at her like she was done, and expecting Jordan to understand. She gave a tentative nod.
Apparently, that was enough. Apparently things were settled between them now, because the girl stared at her for a moment, then nodded her own head, as though it had all been decided and agreed on. Jordan supposed it had, even if she didn’t really know what it was. She rubbed her face, tired.
‘It is time for you to go,’ the guardian said.
A quick shake of the head. ‘Will I see you again?’
‘Yes, but you must learn to look.’
What did that mean? Jordan shook her head again, and mortified, found herself yawning. When she looked again, the fairy girl was gone. Jordan spun around where she stood, looking every which way, but the girl was gone, and the trees were silent.
She yawned again, and forgot what she was looking for. The shadows lay deeper on the forest floor, stretching away from the light, and Jordan looked around for the path. Her mother was going to kill her for staying out this long.