14. Verigan Forest

“Are they talking yet?”

“Talking?” The guard stared at the king’s emissary with wild, panicked eyes. He jabbed a finger towards the haphazard rows of people slumped on the earth before them. “Look at them! Do they look up to having a chat? Let us see what this one has to say, shall we?”

He grasped an old man by his shoulder, pulling him upright from a foetal crouch. Groaning, the man squinted through pouchy lids. His bottom lip drooped like a wet slug. The guard blew a gust of his breath into the withered face. The man’s eyelids quivered and the corners of his mouth twitched. “The tapestries,” the guard shouted into the old man’s bristly ear. “Do you know where the tapestries are? No, don’t go back to sleep.” He sent a meaningful look in the emissary’s direction, before he continued. “Can you tell me of any tapestries? Tapestries?” But the man’s breathing had already slowed. He snored gently.

“Ahhh!” The guard let him flop back onto the ground. “Get the idea, man?,” he growled. “Or shall I try another?” He reached for a young woman who slumped forward like a wilting flower, but the alarmed emissary restrained him. The lamps set into the cavern wall fickered. “You see how futile it is?,” said the guard, almost shrieking. “The Thelpy’s effect is too potent. Wiggo, the expert, should be here, showing us what to do. We haven’t had a glimpse of him.”

“So what do I tell the king?” Anxiety furrowed the emissary’s brow.

The guard choked back a hysterical laugh, as he surveyed the dreamless sleepers. The chest of each one rose and fell at a different pace; some rapid and shallow, others slow and even. Their muted rhythms seemed to reverberate around the cavern, like a nightmarish shop of clocks, ticking. “Tell the king that we need more time. Tell him that we are going crazy here, trying to do his bidding. Tell him whatever you like. Just make sure he knows that it is Wiggo who needs to be here, and he is not.”

“Did I hear my name being taken in vain?” Both men started, as a midget of a man glided in, a white robe engulfing his small frame. His head shone like a pink pearl in the lamplight. His only claim to hair was the moustache-less fuzz around his plump jaw line, and the white tufts that sat neatly over each ear like snow capped mountains. “I’ve been quite run off my feet, attending to other of the king’s business,” he said smoothly. There was no apology in his tone. He gazed about the room with detached interest, his bright eyes missing nothing. The guard’s shoulders visibly slumped, as several days’ worth of tension left them.

“Overdosed them, it would seem,” Wiggo murmured. He pursed his full pink mouth. “Well it won’t have any long term effects. They should be ready for questioning in a week or so. No need to trouble King Phan with details,” he continued. A grimace wrinkled his face. “So please tell his Majesty that everything is coming along nicely.”

The emissary nodded stiffly before stalking out of the room. Wiggo watched him leave, and then turned back to the scene before him. He cocked a reproachful eye towards the guard. “You lot are responsible for giving them too much of the Thelpy,” he said. “All we can do is wait for the deep sleep to wear off enough to render them speech and dreams. Call me when they start to sleep-walk and talk.” He turned on his heel, cutting off with a firm wave of his hand, a stream of protests from the disbelieving guard. “Call me then and not before.”

***


The companions woke as dusk fell. Fen handed round hunks of chethra, a sweetened breakfast bread. They munched in silence, watching the sinking sun sap the last flush of its brilliance from of the sky. The air grew crisp. Tien pulled her cloak out and draped it over her shoulders. It was only as they packed up their camp, that she noticed that the goats were gone. She glanced around for them discreetly, not wanting to look ignorant.

“I had to let them go.” Tien turned around to see Fen standing behind her. “They’ll make their way back to their owners. It’s a shame, but goats, especially erenraps, are rarely used by common folk around Tira. We would be remembered. To get to Pasco safely, we need to be invisible.”

“Uh huh.”

Fen fiddled with the ties of her scarf. “Tonight we will pass through the Verigen Forest, just beyond these woods. See where the trees begin to thicken on the other side of the stream? There?” Tien nodded as she followed Fen’s finger with her eyes. “That is where it begins. Verigan Forest is off the main road to Pasco, and it will provide us good cover. We want to avoid a repeat of last night.”

As Fen spoke, Tien’s eyes strayed to the scars on her face, where the skin was uneven and mottled. How did she get those injuries? Maybe an accident, years ago. She seems oblivious to the scarring, as if she does not realize that her face is so twisted. Fen turned back, and caught Tien staring. She raised a protective hand to her scars. Colour burned her cheeks and she dropped her gaze. “I filled your flask with water. It‘s next to your pack.” Fen pointed to the pile of packs, lying next to the smoking remains of the fire.

Tien wished the ground could swallow her up. I’m no better than that awful woman in Tira, she thought bitterly. Ogling Fen like she was a freak. And she has only ever treated me with respect. Tien could not think of any words that would make things right, so with her own cheeks flaming, she pulled her pack onto her back in silence.

As they set out along the path, the woods abruptly thickened into dense forest. Tien gazed up in awe at the thick trunks that stretched high above them. Their branches rustled with the flurry of birds and forest animals. Occasionally a leaf drifted down to a forest floor already littered with leaves and rotten branches. Tien would have liked to stop and explore, but it was almost dark, and they were moving at brisk pace. She breathed in the forest’s scent. Damp soil and sweet decay. The air was filled with cacophony of songs and cries. A night frogs’ piercing whistles. The chirruping purr of a hundred chickerloos. The chorus of half a dozen birdcalls. Berry strode ahead with Saka. They seemed to be discussing mutual friends in Tira.

“How will we find Flip?” Tien asked Fen. A ripe moon glided alongside them, gleaming through the branches.

“I went to Pasco once, a long time ago. I remember how big it was. And how easy it was to get lost.” “It is a bit of a maze!” Fen laughed. “That is, if you’re not a local. Misty took a message to some of our people in Pasco. I asked them to meet us tomorrow. We’ll go together to find Flip, using the address his mother has given.”

“But if he’s not expecting us, won’t he be terrified when a crowd of strangers appear on his doorstep?”

“Yes, he will,” Fen admitted. “He was not a member of the Watch and we do not know how much Andron told him. But it’s the safest way. For him and us. He’ll go about his normal routine tomorrow, and not attract any unwanted attention.”

“Can he be trust…..oooff!” Tien swung around, ducking her head. Something had swooped over her, and crashed into the underbrush to her left. She grasped Fen by the arm, her heart thumping. “There is something out there!” she hissed.

Fen halted and stood, listening. A moment later, Saka and Berry turned back. Saka shrugged his shoulders, his palms up, silently asking what was going on. Putting her finger to her lips, Fen cupped her hand behind one ear. The four of them spread out, straining to see or hear. They peered about the shadows cast by the thickly set trees on either side. But the forest had stilled. It was not giving up its secrets.

Saka came back to Tien. ”What was it? What did you hear?” he whispered. Reddening, Tien murmured, “Something flew low over my head. I thought it was…, well I don’t exactly know.” she finished lamely. Why do I do that, she asked herself? I magnify a little forest noise into a big drama. They began to walk again, and Tien gritted her teeth as Berry’s laughter floated back.

The forest stretched out ahead of them, dense and silent, as though its inhabitants were holding their breath. Watching. Trees crowded about them. Scant moonlight filtered through the thick canopy overhead. Tien heard a hissing sound behind her. Her skin prickled and she looked over her shoulder. Nothing. Nothing but trees. Fen, Saka and Berry were striding on ahead. Am I the only one who can hear it? She ran to catch up with them, straining her ears. Yes! There it goes again! This time, an unmistakeable crunch of boots sounded, only ten paces behind her. Tien whirled around, sick with fear. Bile soured the back of her throat. Could it be that the raseen had found them again? Her sudden action caught Fen’s attention, and the group stopped again. Tien scanned the perimeter, desperate for proof of the noises she was hearing.

“There was something behind me.” Her voice pleaded for belief. “I’m sorry, but I am telling you, something is following me. Following us,” she corrected herself. “Maybe a curious fox? They wouldn’t see too many humans in here.” Tien rolled her eyes. If it were you who’d heard it, Saka, we’d take you seriously. I’m not imagining this. “Whatever it was, man or beast, it was walking on two legs”, she said, jutting her chin out. ”And wearing boots.”

The four of them checked the area thoroughly. But the forest had stilled, its shadows thick and unyielding. They did not see or hear a thing, and eventually continued their trek. The path narrowed and steepened as it led them closer to the heights of Pasco’s Stra Mountain. Tien found that she was nearly panting. She concentrated on breathing deeply. Is my mind playing tricks on me? Or is this a side affect of being prodded? These noises just sound so real.

Unnerved and angry with herself, she quickened her pace, forcing Fen to hurry to keep up. The forests noises gradually filtered back. Saka and Berry resumed their conversation. Tien’s heart slowed back into a regular rhythm. It was just as she was beginning to relax, with a song from home playing in her mind, that it happened again. Something brushed against her back, and for a fleeting second, she felt a warm tickle on her neck. Tien shuddered. It must be some kind of large insect, maybe a roach. Yuck! Grimly, she swatted at it, without slowing her pace.

I’m not saying anymore about it, even if I have to put up with being pestered all the way to Pasco. Ever since I met these people, I’ve not done a thing right. I couldn’t jump out the window, or ride a goat properly. Berry finds me unworthy of courtesy. So at the very least, I will walk past a few trees without causing a scene. If it is a roach, it’ll go away. If not, chances are if I ignore it, it’ll turn its attention on one of the others. That idea cheered her somewhat.

She didn’t have to wait long. A moment later, Berry jumped. She halted and looked at Saka with a suspicious smile. “What?“ he asked, straight faced. “Oh, nothing at all.” Berry’s tone was amused. Saka shrugged and kept walking. Over the next half hour, Tien became certain that the invisible pest was no insect. Its behaviour seemed mischievous and deliberate, yet harmless. Tien remained the sole target of its taunting. No longer frightened, she grew irritable. My plan is not working, she thought, readjusting her headscarf after phantom fingers had yanked it over her eyes. Berry jumped with a delighted squeal. Tien smiled. Finally!

A moment later, Saka yelped. He stopped and looked at Berry in real surprise, rubbing his backside. “Hey!” “Hey yourself.” Berry blinked at him demurely. They had only moved forward a few paces, when Saka halted again. “Oy,” he said, smiling, “Control yourself, please!” “Don’t give it if you can’t take it.”

Berry grinned broadly, her perfect teeth luminous in the moonlight. “I didn’t touch you.” “Uh huh.” She pulled a disbelieving face, before continuing on. They walked in silence now, the sense of camaraderie between them was gone. “Ow! Now cut it OUT,” Berry yelled, stopping dead in the track. “I’m not laughing anymore, Saka.”

She rubbed her rump and glared at him. “I haven’t once touched you, Berr. Though you deserve it. I’ll feel the bruise you gave me every time I sit down, for the next week.” He looked sincerely bewildered.

“Alright, let’s sort this out.” Fen came alongside them. She rubbed her temples with a weary hand. “Saka, you have not touched Berry?” “I… did …not… lay… a …hand… on her. You should know that I wouldn’t.” he said, speaking to Berry

“Thanks,” Berry’s tone was scathing. There was an uncomfortable silence, though Tien wasn’t sure why. Berry shrugged. ”Well someone has pinched me three times.” She rubbed her bottom. “That last one hurt.” No one moved. The moon was visible once again, but Tien felt stifled by the trees that pressed in on them from all sides.

“Of course!“ Saka smacked the side of his head, an expression of dawning comprehension on his face. All three girls jumped. Saka didn’t appear to notice Berry’s rolling eyes. He spoke slowly, as though his idea was still forming. ”I can scarcely believe that I’m thinking this, let alone about to say it. It sounds crazy, but hear me out. Then if you have a more plausible idea, I’d love to hear it.” He paused, as if wondering where to start. No one said a word. “Now,” he began, “when you were children, were you ever told about the wendigo of the woods? “

“Wendigo?” The name sounded familiar. “Yes. I always imagined they resembled agoblin or dwarf. Small creatures and relatively weak, but their power is in their trickery. They never really hurt you but they play tricks on your mind, send you crazy. They often cry out like someone injured or lost. People were said to be lured deep into the forest to try to rescue them.”

“Yes, I’ve heard stories about them,” agreed Fen. She came in close to the others, lowering her voice. ”They work alone. They make little sounds or distractions to spook a traveller, and gradually get more daring as the person becomes confused.”

“That’s right, and no one is ever quick enough to spin around and see one in the act.” said Saka. “ I do know what you’re talking about.” Tien said, nodding. She’d heard of wendigo in fairytales when she was little. “My gran used to tell me about wendigo. She said that some people never returned from the forest. They’d been driven mad by their taunts. And those who did find their way out, gibbered about an invisible shadow that they blundered deep into the forest to be rid of. They had gotten hopelessly lost in the process.” The companions stood there silently, digesting this information.

“This thing we’re being bothered by, sounds like a wendigo,” said Fen. “But wendigo are make believe, nothing more.”

“Well this thing is flesh and blood real.” Berry touched her backside gingerly. “So what do we do?”

“Well, just for laughs, let’s call it a wendigo,” said Saka. “And let’s say that everything we know about it is true.”

“OK,” Fen said slowly. “Just for laughs. And by the way Tien, I’m sorry. I should have taken the noises you heard seriously.” Tien shrugged and smiled forgivingly, as Fen continued. “The wendigo,” she glanced at Saka as she stressed the word, “will want to separate us. Divide and conquer.“ “Maybe it’s gone, now that we know about it,” Berry suggested. “I’m not so sure.”

Saka gazed up at the overhanging branches. “My guess is that it is waiting to see what we’ll do next.” They looked about cautiously. “I agree,” said Fen. “I’m starting to think that the Wendigo, or something like it, is very real, and quite dangerous. We need to take it seriously. And if it bothers us, we mustn’t give in to the temptation to turn around, or run from it’s teasing. If we split up, we’ll be pawns in its game.”

“We have to work together.” “Why don’t we link up with our belts.” Berry began undoing hers. The three friends again joined their belts into a rope. Once connected to each other, they set off walking. Saka went first and Fen brought up the rear. During the next few kilometres, Tien felt like she was in a waking dream. She saw that now, the crafty imp was actively bothering them all. Every couple of minutes, one of the companions would yell out, or shake away its touch. But the wendigo moved like a host of invisible beings. Tien was constantly being touched. A hand brushed past hers, a muffled whisper tickled her ear, and at one stage an arm draped casually over her shoulder. Trees stretched endlessly, thick and impenetrable. They walked in almost complete darkness.

A child’s pitiful whimpering broke out from somewhere deep in the forest on their right. The cries grew louder, frantic; until they reached a crescendo of drawn-out wails. It was a sound of utter despair, which at times was muffled, as if the child was weaving in and out of the trees. Tien stopped, her heart in her mouth. This is no prank of the Wendigo, she thought. We are ignoring a child who really needs our help. We have to call out and find where she is.

From behind, Berry yanked on the cord attached to her waist. “Keep going,” she muttered, “it is all part of the Wendigo’s deception.“

But how can this creature be everywhere at once, Tien’s muddled brain begged the question. She clapped her hands over her ears and stumbled on.

“Aaah!” Ahead, Saka stumbled heavily, bracing his weight against Tien as he struggled to right himself. “It’s given me a wallop,“ he growled, touching his cheek tenderly.

“We have not responded to its attempts. It must be growing anxious, for we are almost out of its grasp,” came Fen’s soothing voice. “Remember, the Wendigo cannot leave the forest for fear of being discovered. Look, Berry! Tien! See there, Saka, through that clearing in the trees?” Tien lifted weary eyes from the ground. In her preoccupation with the Wendigo, she had not noticed that the forest was thinning. Fifty more paces, and they would be out of it altogether. Pinpricks of light, dozens of them, dotted the black horizon.

“The lights of Pasco.” Fen said. “Just a few more yards, and we are free of this torment.“ Buoyed by the sight of Pasco’s lights, they quickened their pace. As they left the last trees behind, and reached open land, an enraged squall erupted from the forest. Tien glanced back over her shoulder. A squat hairy creature stamped its feet in rage. Then it was gone. She rubbed her eyes, and looked again. Nothing. Was it? No, must have just been a shadow. No more letting my imagination get the better of me.

She failed to notice the small bird that flew to the edge of the forest, and perched on a branch, its black eyes watching the companions. It chirruped softly and then flew to a tree beyond them, in the direction that they were moving.

© 2006 by Shelly Taylor