no
tracks of predators in the snow surrounding her. There were no tracks at all.
It was quiet. But how was the silent peace of the wood driving her to run in
fear?
All
at once her hand grabbed onto a trunk, propelling her to wrap around it. “Just
breathe,” she told herself, closing her eyes. Horrific images threatened her
behind closed lid. “There’s nothing out here…” She forced her eyes open to rid
herself of the visions. Before her she saw nothing but snow, and the dead of
winter. “I will not be afraid of the nothingness,” she had to repeat it several
times, forcing her heart and breath to slow as she did so.
Still
yet, her hands clung to the rough bark to keep her in place, afraid if she let
go that her feet would carry her deeper by her fear. It was with this focus
that she could feel the subtle vibration that trembled her fingers. Releasing
one hand, she held it out steady. Looking down at her free hand, her fingers
did not shake, from cold nor fear. Confused, she looked to her hand which clung
desperately to the trunk. Though slight indeed it shook enough for her to take
notice.
The
query was distracting enough that for that moment she could push aside her
fear. Touching her hand back to the tree she focused. Could the tree truly be vibrating?
Leaning forward she leaned her cheek against the rough bark and winced back,
gasping. Warm blood trickled down her cheek. The bark had scratched her though
she’d barely touched it. Carefully leaning in again, she inhaled deeply,
smelling the crisp air. Sweet, woody, and something else. Something sharp and
foul though it was masked by the sweetness of the wood. “Magic,” she whispered.
As
she stood still close to the tree, a limb curled in around her wrist slowly. In
the pit of her stomach she could feel the churning of her fear bubble like
she’d eaten something wrong. It was as if the woods were trying to wash away
her sudden realization.
Stumbling
back, she yanked and twisted until her hand was freed and she were well away
from the limbs of the black oak. A deep scratch was an angry red where the limb
had grabbed her. Rather than cowering, her wounded fingers took hold of the
amethyst hung around her neck.
Looking
all around her, she watched as the trees seemed to shiver and twitch. It seemed
clear now that it was more than the wind causing it.
Dropping
to her knees, her head dipped low. “Guardians of old, though I have faltered I
will not fail you. I trust you to watch over me as you guide my step to be
true.” Kissing the amethyst, she squeezed it tight in her fist before rising.
The
pit of fear that had threatened to consume her was gone. As if knowing the
truth of it was enough to keep it at bay. A strange result, as often times
prove true, magic was far more deadly than any living beast. Her gaze was
vigilant though her eyes were weary as she started off again.
Her
walk was brisk though not hasty. She couldn’t afford to lose more energy than
she already had. Knowing what haunted her in the woods did not keep it from
being ineffective. Limbs reached out for her, roots came up to grab at her
feet. Walking through the snow felt like wading through thick swamp muds rather
than light fluff. At times it was knee deep, and chilled her to the bone.
The
magic of the Dark Wood had not succeeded in stopping her, but she couldn’t help
but wonder if the cold would. Her legs were leaden and burned as she forced
them to move on. The further she walked, the more she felt as if she were
moving up hill. Hours had passed since she’d left the Hollow. Before long it would
be nightfall. Could she find her way in the dark, she wondered. Stopping was
not an option. Even if she could start a fire with wet frozen wood, what would
become of her if she were to let down her guard so completely in this perilous
place?
Exhaustion,
however, was as real an enemy as any creature of the night or any dark magic. A
fallen tree had come down at some point. From the looks
Learning to Kill: Stories