Into the Wyldwood
I didn’t think I’d sleep, but I must’ve dozed off, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up on the sandy floor of the cave, and my shoulder was killing me. Pulling out the aspirin, I popped another three pills, crunched them down with a grimace and looked around for Kenzie and Grimalkin.
Unsurprisingly, the cat was nowhere to be seen, but a faint gray light was seeping in from the cave mouth, and the glowing fungi along the walls had dimmed, looking like ordinary toadstools now. I wondered how much time had passed, if a year had already flown by in the mortal world and my parents had given up all hope of ever seeing me again.
Grimacing, I struggled upright, cursing myself for falling asleep. Anything could’ve happened while I’d been out: something could’ve snuck up on me, stolen my bag, convinced Kenzie to follow it down a dark tunnel. Where was she, anyway? She didn’t know about Faery, how dangerous it could be. She was far too trusting, and anything in this world could grab her, chew her up and spit her out again.
I spun, searching frantically, until I saw her sitting cross-legged near the entrance.
Talking to Grimalkin.
Oh, great. I hurried over, hoping she hadn’t promised the cat anything she would regret, or we would regret, later. “Kenzie,” I said as I swept up. “What are you doing? What are you two talking about?”
She glanced up at me, smiling, and Grimalkin yawned widely as he bent to lick his paws. “Oh, you’re up,” she said. “Grimalkin was just telling me a little about the Nevernever. It’s fascinating. Did you know there’s a whole huge city on the ocean floor that stretches for miles? Or that the River of Dreams supposedly runs to the End of the World before falling off the edge?”
“I don’t want to know,” I said. “I don’t want to be here any longer than we have to, so don’t think we’re staying for the tour. I just want to go to the Iron Realm, talk to Meghan, and go home. How’s that part coming along, cat?”
Grimalkin sniffed. “Your friend is far better company than you,” he stated, and scrubbed the paw over his head. “And if you are so eager to get to the Iron Realm, we will leave whenever you are ready. However—” he peeked up at me, twitching his tail “—be absolutely sure you have everything you need, human. We will not be coming back to this place should you leave something behind.”
I walked back to my gym bag, wondering what to leave. I couldn’t take the whole bag, that was obvious. It was bulky and heavy, and I wasn’t going to tote it across the Nevernever if I didn’t have to. Besides, my arm still hurt like hell, so I wouldn’t be carrying anything much larger than a stick.
I pulled out my rattan, the gauze, two bottles of water, and the last three power bars, then rifled around the side pocket for one more thing. Kenzie wandered over and knelt on the other side, watching curiously.
“What are you looking for?”
“This,” I muttered, and pulled out a large, slightly rusted key, something I’d found half buried in the swamp when I was a kid. It was ancient, bulky and made of pure iron. I’d kept it as a lucky charm and a faery deterrent ever since.
“Here,” I said, holding it out to her. It dangled from an old string, spinning lazily between us. I’d meant to get a chain for it but kept putting it off. “Keep this close,” I told her as she stared at it curiously. “Iron is the best protection you can have against the creatures that live here. It’s poison to them—they can’t even touch it without being burned. It won’t keep them away completely, but they might think twice about biting your head off if they smell that around your neck.”
She wrinkled her nose, whether from the thought of having to wear a rusty old key or having her head bitten off, I didn’t know. “What about you?” she asked.
I reached into my shirt and pulled out the iron cross on the chain. “Already have one. Here.” I jiggled the key at her. “Take it.”
She reached out, and my fingers brushed hers as they closed around the amulet, sending a rush of warmth up my arm. I jerked and nearly dropped the key, but she didn’t pull back, her touch lingering on mine, watching me over our clasped hands.
“I’m sorry, Ethan.”
I blinked and quickly pulled my hand back, frowning in confusion. My heart was pounding again, but I ignored it. “Why?”
“For not believing you at the tournament.” She looped the heavy key around her neck, where it clinked softly against the camera. “I thought you might be into something dangerous and illegal, and had gotten Todd into trouble because of it. And that the faery thing was a cover for something else. I never thought they could be real.” Her solemn gaze met mine over the gym bag. “They were at the tournament, weren’t they?” she asked. “The faeries that grabbed Todd. That’s what was chasing us, and you were trying to get us out.” Her gaze flicked to my bandaged arm, and her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry for that, too.”
I started to reply, but Kenzie rose and briskly dusted herself off, as if not wanting an answer. “Come on,” she said in an overly cheerful voice. “We should get going. Grim is giving us the evil eye.”
She started to walk away but paused very briefly, her fingers touching my shoulder as she passed. “Also…thanks for saving my life.”
I sat there a moment, listening to Kenzie’s footsteps pad quietly over the sand. What just happened here? Kenzie had nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t her fault we were here, stuck in the Nevernever for who knew how long, that a bunch of ghostly, homicidal faeries were after us. Her life had been fairly normal before I came along. If anything, she should hate me for dragging her into this mess. I certainly hated myself.
My shoulder still prickled where she’d touched it.
An extremely loud yawn came from the mouth of the cave. “Are we going to start this expedition sometime in the next century?” Grimalkin called, golden eyes blinking in annoyance. “For someone who is in such a hurry to leave, you certainly are taking your time.”
I rose, snatched my rattan sticks and water from the floor, and walked toward the cave entrance, leaving the bag behind. It, along with my dirty clothes and equipment, would have to stay in Faery. Hopefully it wouldn’t stink up Grimalkin’s home too badly.
“Finally.” The cat sighed as I came up. He stood, tail waving, and sauntered to the mouth of the cave, looking out at the wyldwood beyond. “Ready, humans?”
“Hey, Grimalkin.” Kenzie suddenly brought up her camera. “Smile.”
The cat snorted. “That silly toy will not work here, mortal,” he said as Kenzie pressed the button and discovered just that. Nothing happened. Frowning, she pulled back to look at it, and Grimalkin sniffed.
“Human technology has no place in the Nevernever,” he stated. “Why do you think there are no pictures of dragons and goblins floating about the mortal world? The fey do not photograph well. We do not photograph at all. Magic and technology cannot exist together, except perhaps in the Iron Realm. And even there, your purely human technology will not work as you expect. The Iron Realm, for all its advancement, is still a part of the Nevernever.”
“Well, shoot.” Kenzie sighed and let the camera drop. “I was hoping to write a book called My Trip to Faeryland.” Now how am I going to convince myself that I’m not completely loony?”
Grimalkin sneezed with laughter and turned away. “I would not worry about that, mortal. No one ever leaves the Nevernever completely sane.”
* * *
The cave entrance vanished as soon as we stepped through, changing to a solid wall of stone when we looked back. Kenzie jumped, then reached out to prod the rock, a look of amazement and disbelief crossing her face.
“Better get used to things like that,” I told her as she turned forward again, looking a bit stunned. “Nothing ever makes sense around here.”
“I’m starting to see that,” she murmured as we made our way down the rocky slope after Grimalkin. The cat trotted briskly ahead, neither slowing down nor glancing back to see if we were still there, and we had to scramble to keep up. I wondered if Meghan had had this same problem when she first came to the Nevernever.
Meghan. Flutters of both nerves and excitement hit my stomach, and I firmly shoved them down. I was going to see my sister, the queen of the Iron Fey. Would she remember me? Would she be angry that I’d come here, after she’d told me not to look for her? Maybe she didn’t want to see me at all. Maybe she was glad to be rid of her human ties.
That thought sent a chill through me. Would she even be the same Meghan I remembered? I had so many memories of her, and she was always the same: the steady older sister who looked out for me. When we got to the Iron Realm, would I find the Iron Queen was insane and cruel like Mab, or fickle and jealous like Titania? I hadn’t met the fey queens, of course, but the stories I’d heard about them told me everything I needed to know. Which was to stay far, far away from them both.
“How old were you when you first came here?”
Kenzie voiced the question just as Grimalkin vanished into the dark gray undergrowth. Alarmed, I stared hard between the trees until I spotted him again and hurried to catch up. Except he did the same damn thing a minute later, and I growled a curse, scanning the bushes. Catching sight of a bushy tail, I hurried forward, Kenzie trailing doggedly beside me. I kept silent, hoping Kenzie would forget the question. No such luck.
“Ethan? Did you hear me? How old were you the last time you came to this place?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said curtly, dodging a bush with vivid blue thorns. Kenzie stepped deftly around it, keeping pace with me.
“Why?”
“Because.” I searched for the cat, ignoring her gaze, and tried to hold on to my temper. “It’s none of your business.”
“News flash, Ethan—I’m stuck in Faeryland, same as you. I think that makes it my business—”
“I was four!” I snapped, turning to glare at her. Kenzie blinked. “The fey took me from my home when I was four and used me as bait so my sister would come rescue me. They stuck me in a cage and poked at me until I screamed, and when she finally did come, they took her away and turned her into one of Them. I have to pretend I don’t have a sister, that I don’t see anything weird or strange or unnatural, that my parents aren’t terrified to let me do anything because they’re scared the fey will steal me again! So, excuse me for not wanting to talk about myself or my screwed-up life. It’s kind of a sore subject, okay?”
“Oh, Ethan.” Kenzie’s gaze was horrified and sympathetic, which was not what I was expecting. “I’m so sorry.”
“Forget it.” Embarrassed, I turned away, waving it off. “It’s just…I’ve never told anyone before, not even my parents. And being back here—” I gestured to the trees around us “—it’s making me remember everything I hated about this place, about Them. I swore I’d never come back. But, here I am and…” Exhaling, I kicked a rock into the undergrowth, making it rattle noisily. “And I managed to pull you in, as well.”
Just like Samantha.
“Humans.” Grimalkin appeared overhead, in the branches of a tree. “You are making too much noise, and this is not a safe place to do so. Unless you wish to attract the attention of every hungry creature in the area, I suggest attempting to continue on in silence.” He sniffed and regarded us without hope. “Give it your best shot at least, hmm?”
* * *
We walked for the rest of the afternoon. At least, I thought we did. It was hard to tell time in the endless gray twilight of the wyldwood. My watch had, of course, stopped, and our phones were dead, so we trailed Grimalkin as best we could for several hours as the eerie, dangerous land of the fey loomed all around us. Shadows moved among the trees, keeping just out of sight. Branches creaked, and footsteps shuffled through the leaves, though I never saw anything. Sometimes I thought I heard voices on the wind, singing or whispering my name.
The colors of the wyldwood were weird and unnatural; everything was gray and murky, but then we’d pass a single tree that was a vivid, poisonous green, or a bush with huge purple berries hanging from the branches. Except for a few curious piskies and one hopeful will-o’-the-wisp, I didn’t see any faeries, which made me relieved and nervous at the same time. It was like knowing a grizzly was stalking you through the woods, only you couldn’t see it. I knew They were out there. I didn’t know if I was happy that they were staying out of sight, or if I’d rather they try something now and get it over with.
“Careful through here,” Grimalkin cautioned. We picked our way through a patch of thick black briars with thorns as long as my hand, shiny and evil-looking. “Do not take your eyes from the path. Pay attention to what is happening at your feet.”
Bones hung in the branches and littered the ground at the base of the bushes, some tiny, some not. Kenzie shuddered whenever we passed one, clutching the key around her neck, but she followed the cat through the branches without a word.
Until a vine snaked around her ankle.
She pitched forward with a yelp, right toward a patch of nasty looking thorns. I caught her before she could impale herself on the spikes. She gasped and clung to my shirt while the offending vine slithered back into the undergrowth.
“You okay?” I asked. I could feel her shaking against me, her heart thudding against my ribs. It felt…good…to hold her like this. Her small body fit perfectly against mine.
With a start, I realized what I was doing and released her quickly, drawing back. Kenzie blinked, still trying to process what had happened, then glared down at the briar patch.
“It…the branch…it tried to trip me, didn’t it?” she said, sounding incredulous and indignant all at once. “Jeez, not even the plant life is friendly. What did I ever do to it?”
We stepped out of the briar patch, and I looked around for Grimalkin. He had vanished once more, and I stared hard into the trees, searching for him. “Here’s a hint,” I told Kenzie, narrowing my eyes as I peered into the undergrowth and shadows. “And it might save your life. Just assume that everything here—plant, animal, insect, toadstool, whatever—is out to get you.”
“Well, that’s not very friendly of them. They don’t even know me.”
“If you’re not going to take this seriously—”
“Ethan, I was just nearly impaled by a bloodthirsty killer bush! I think I’m taking this fairly well, considering.”
I glanced back at her. “Whatever. Just remember, nothing in the Nevernever is friendly to humans. Even if the fey appear friendly, they all have ulterior motives. Not even the cat is doing this for free. And if they can’t get what they want, they’ll take something anyway or try to kill you. You can’t trust the fey, ever. They’ll pretend to be your friend and stab you in the back when it’s most convenient, not because they’re mean, or spiteful or hateful, but because it’s their nature. It’s just how they are.”
“You must hate them a great deal,” Kenzie said softly.
I shrugged, abruptly self-conscious. “You haven’t seen what I have. It’s not without cause, trust me.” Speaking of which, Grimalkin still hadn’t appeared. “Where’s that stupid cat?” I muttered, starting to get nervous and a little mad. “If he’s gone off and left us—”
A branch rustled somewhere in the woods behind us. We both froze, and Kenzie looked over warily.
“That sounded a little too big for a cat…”
Another branch snapped, closer this time. Something was coming. Something big and fast.
“Humans!” Grimalkin’s voice echoed from nowhere, though the urgency in it was plain. “Run! Now!”
Kenzie jumped. I tensed, gripping my weapons. Before we could even think about moving, the bushes parted and a huge reptilian creature spilled out of the brambles into the open.
At first, I thought it was a giant snake, as the scaly green body was close to twenty feet long. But its head was more dragon than serpent, and two short, clawed forearms stuck out of its sides, just behind its shoulder blades. It raised its head, a pale, forked tongue flicking the air, before it reared up with a hiss, baring a mouthful of needlelike teeth.
Kenzie gasped, and I yanked her into the trees as the monster lunged, barely missing us. The snap of its jaws echoed horribly in my ears. We ran, weaving around trees, tearing through bramble and undergrowth, hearing the crashing of twigs and branches at our heels as it followed.
I dodged behind a thick trunk, pulling Kenzie behind me, and raised my sticks as the monster’s head slithered around, forked tongue tasting the air. When it turned, I brought the rattan down across its snout as hard as I could, striking the rubbery nose three times before the thing hissed and pulled back with blinding speed. As it drew away, I spotted a place where we could make our stand and yanked Kenzie toward it.
“What is that thing?” Kenzie cried as I pulled her into a cluster of trees, their trunks grown close together to form a protective cage around us. No sooner had I squeezed through than the monster’s head appeared between a crack, snapping narrow jaws at me. I whacked it across the head with my sticks, and it pulled back with a screech. I saw its scaly body through the circle of trees, coiling around us like a snake with a mouse, and fought to remain calm.
“Kenzie,” I panted, trying to track the thing’s head through the branches. My arms shook, and I focused on staying loose, holding my sticks in front of me. “Stay in the center as much as you can. Don’t go near the edge of the trees.”
The thing lunged again, snaking through the trunks, snapping at me. Thankfully, its body was just a bit too wide to maneuver at top speed, and I was able to dodge, cracking it in the skull as I did. Hissing, it pulled back, trying from a different, higher angle. I ducked, stabbing it in the throat, wishing I had a knife or a blade instead of wooden sticks. It gave an angry gurgle and backed out, eyeing me evilly through the trunks.
“Ethan!” Kenzie yelled, as the monster darted close again, “behind you!”
Before I could turn, a heavy coil snaked around my waist, slamming me back into a tree trunk, pinning me there. I struggled, cursing myself for focusing solely on the monster’s head instead of the whole creature. My right arm was pinned to my side; I raised my left as the head snaked through the trees and came at me again. Timing it carefully, I stabbed up with the tip, jamming it into a slitted yellow eye.
Screeching, the monster drew back. With a hiss, it tightened its coils around my chest, cutting off my air. I gasped for breath, punching the end of my rattan into the monster’s body, trying to struggle free. It only squeezed harder, making my ribs creak painfully. My lungs burned, and my vision began to go dark, a tunnel of hazy light that started to shrink. The creature’s head drifted closer; its tongue flicked out to brush my forehead, but I didn’t have the strength to raise my weapon.
And then, Kenzie stepped up and brought her iron key slashing down across the monster’s hurt eye.
Instantly, the coils loosened as the monster reared up, screaming this time. Gasping, I dropped to my knees as it writhed and thrashed, scraping the side of its face against the trunk, snapping branches and smashing into the trees. A flailing coil struck Kenzie, knocking her back several feet. I heard her gasp as she hit the ground, and tried to push myself upright, but the ground was still spinning and I sagged to my knees again.
Cursing, I struggled to get up, to put myself between Kenzie and the snake in case it turned on her. But the iron key to the face seemed to have killed its appetite for humans. With a final wail, the monster slithered off. I watched it vanish into the undergrowth, then sagged in relief.
“Are you all right?” Kenzie dropped beside me, placing a slender hand on my arm. I could feel it shaking. I nodded, still trying to suck air into my burning lungs, feeling as if they’d been crushed with a vise.
“I’m fine,” I rasped, pulling myself to my feet. Kenzie rose, dusting herself off, and I stared at her in growing astonishment. That thing had had me on the ropes, seconds away from being swallowed like a big mouse. If she hadn’t been there, I’d be dead right about now.
“Kenzie, I…” I hesitated, grateful, embarrassed and angry all at once. “Thanks.”
“Oh, no problem,” Kenzie replied with a shaky grin, though her voice trembled. “Always happy to help with any giant snake monster issues that pop up.”
I felt a weird pull somewhere in my stomach, and the sudden crazy urge to draw her close, to make sure we were both still alive. Uncomfortable, I retreated a step. “Sorry about your camera,” I muttered.
“Huh? Oh.” She held up the device, now very broken from the fall, and gave a dramatic sigh. “Well, it wasn’t working anyway. Besides…” She reached out and gently squeezed my arm. “I owed you one.”
My mouth was dry again. “I’ll replace it. Once we get back to the real world—”
“Don’t worry about it, tough guy.” Kenzie waved it off. “It’s just a camera. And I think surviving an attack by a giant snake monster was more important.”
“Lindwurm,” came a voice above our heads, and Grimalkin appeared in the branches, peering down at us. “That,” he stated imperiously, “was a lindwurm, and a rather young one at that. An adult would have given you considerably more trouble.” He flicked his tail and dropped to the ground, wrinkling his nose as he gazed at us. “There might be others around, as well, so I suggest we keep moving.”
I glared at the cat as we maneuvered through the trees again, wincing as my bruised ribs twinged. “You couldn’t have warned us any earlier?”
“I tried,” Grimalkin replied with a sniff. “But you were too busy discussing hostile vegetation and how faeries are completely untrustworthy. I practically had to yell to get your attention.” He glanced over his shoulder with a distinct I-told-you-so expression. “Next time, when I suggest you move silently through a dangerous part of the Nevernever, perhaps you will listen to me.”
“Huh,” Kenzie muttered, walking along beside me. “You know, if all cats are like him, I’m kinda glad they don’t talk.”
“That you know of, human,” Grimalkin returned mysteriously, and continued deeper into the wyldwood.