“I’m back, Amy.” Samuel opens his satchel, a cornucopia of flower petals, leaves, seeds, and roots spill out before me. He fetches my mortar and pestle — an heirloom that extends back to my family’s distant past. I take each item, taste it to test its strength, and then add it in careful amounts to the mash. Once finished, I place the paste under my tongue and relief surges to my feet and toes.
“Now, Samuel, if you don’t mind, I’d like for you to search for one more thing.”
“Anything, my girl.”
“At the roots of many of the Crenshaw elms around here you’ll find a small, black fungus. I need you to gather as much as possible. It’ll help me fight the infection in my leg.” Samuel’s off before I turn back toward the bucolic scene before me. The paste’s set in nicely. I’ve concocted enough to keep me feeling comfortable for the next couple of days.
A magpie lands on a branch near me, examining me with its glossy coal eyes. The bird seems as if it knows who I am and what I represent. Perhaps it’s the paste I’ve ingested, but I swear it’s trying to communicate.
“Hi bird. What do you want?”
It cocks its head and my vision blurs. Suddenly, I’m in the air, soaring over the village. Apparently, I can possess magpies as well as insane women and alien beings. Its wings shudder in the warm breeze and I send it down into the town center. Colors swirl as the bird moves its head. Theo’s surrounded by perhaps fifty villagers dressed in brightly colored clothes unlike any I’ve seen in my part of the world. The buildings in this part of the town mimic the clothing, each adorned in wonderful shades of blue, red, and yellow.
“Listen folks, I’m serious about what we’re facing.” Theo’s clearly grabbed their attention. “We have a common enemy and it’s growing and relentless. If a fog of brown mist approaches your town, you’re gonna have to leave mighty fast. Take only what you need.”
As Theo continues his message of gloom, I direct the bird eyes around, seeing no sign of English or Bets. I decide to look for them. The bird flies to the town commissary, where I find English quite drunk, slumped in a bench. Bets is inside haggling with a trim, silver-haired man over a sack of provisions, including a ruby-colored shine I’ve never seen before. The issue is over price. Bets offers him a handful of gems from Theo’s stash and the argument ends. I follow Bets and English as they rejoin Theo.
A town elder, clearly one of the most revered given the fine quality of her dress, stares at Theo, piercing him with a skeptical eye. “Stranger, how are we to believe your stories are true? You be seeming a bit touched, if you ask me.” The crowd laughs. She looks at English, who’s staggering and singing to himself. “The company you’re keeping’s not helping any.”
Theo blushes, clearly needing help. I direct the magpie to fly a few loopy circles around his head and then land on his shoulder. The crowd falls silent. Theo’s surprised but maintains his composure. I fly the magpie to a bale of hay and gather a beakful of dried grass blades and sticks. I drop them on the bare, sandy earth and use them to fashion the word, BELIEVE. Gasps and chatter rise up from the crowd. English regains his sobriety, looking at the spectacle with clear bemusement. They’re ready to listen to Theo. Before I fly the bird back to me, I see Bets shaking her head and I clearly interpret one word on her lips — Marksman.
“Amy, darlin’. Wake up.” Samuel’s clutching a fistful of dry, black fluff. “Is this what you were looking for?”
“Yes, thanks Samuel.” I prepare the material and chew on a small amount. It’ll slow the spread of the infection but won’t reverse it. The magpie hasn’t left. It sits in a nearby tree preening itself. If I end up crippled, perhaps I can keep moving freely via the emancipation of bird brains.
Theo and English return on the heels of the day. English is clearly washed out and heads for bed. Theo saunters up and sits beside me. “Amy, have you got something to tell me?”
“About what Theo? I’ve been sitting here all day.”
“Are you sure about that? Done any flying lately?”
“Yes, I’ve added possession of birds to my list of abilities. You were looking like you were in some trouble down there. Thought I’d help with a little magic.”
“Thanks for that. Everyone’s wary of strangers. And for us to come trotting in with stories about fog and monsters — I’d bet they were ready to jail us. English wasn’t helping either.”
“What happened after I — the bird — left?”
“They supplied us. Bets is still down there finishing loading a cart. We’ll pull it with Flip’s horse. Those people were mighty generous. I hope they survive Thresh.”
“They’ll fare well as long as they don’t have someone like me or Thresh among them. She doesn’t seem to be raising an army, yet. If she does, gods help their young men. Did you make sure to make no mention of us?”
“Of course.”
Bets arrives at the top of the hill with a sizeable cart filled with provisions. She’s in a foul state. I remark, “She seems darker than usual. What happened to her down there?”
Theo sighs. “I think she’s troubled about home. It’s hard for all of us to see this community and realize we lost ours. Don’t you feel the same way?”
“Theo, the difference is that you’re all being dragged to help me find my family while you’ve all lost most of yours. It’s not fair.”
“Sprouter, relax. There’s bigger things afoot for all of us.”
“I’m not sure Bets would agree. Maybe you should tell her it’s okay to leave us.”
Theo huffs. “It’s not okay for her to leave.”
I decide to leave it be.
After we eat dinner in silence, Samuel reappears from the woods. “Where’ve you been, Sam?” Theo asks.
Samuel is agitated, his eyes bulging. “I saw something back there. It, him, was taller than anything I’d seen before. Black, thick skin. And glowing. No breath or hair that I could see. Big, dark eyes — no whites. You reckon it’s got something to do with that Thresh woman?”
My mind races. Could Fromer be here in the woods with us?
“Samuel, are you sure you’re not seeing things out there?” Theo asks. “It’s been a long day. Maybe you saw one of the villagers who’s curious about us.”
“Theo, no. This was something real strange out there. It ran away once I spotted it. Left big footprints.”
“Things just get stranger around here,” Theo muses. “Samuel, I believe you. Sprouter what you thinking?”
“I think that Samuel saw someone. If you’re wondering whether I know anything about it, the answer’s no. I’ve not had any visions of giant black creatures wandering the woods.” I wonder why I’m lying to him. I feel as if Fromer put a spell on me, keeping me from talking about him. Of course, I did tell Wenn at father’s urging. Perhaps I’m worried that Theo will suffer the same fate as father and Wenn if I tell the truth. Fromer might take Theo away from me and that’d be unbearable.
I wonder why Fromer’s here and why he’s suddenly decided to make himself visible. I’m also perplexed and frankly annoyed that he’s not appeared before me. Given what’s happened, he has some explaining to do. He didn’t warn me about Thresh. And I wonder what other dangers await us.
Bets pulls out a flask of grape wine and passes it around. “The villagers make this from grapes grown along the coast. It’s good. I propose a toast to our recent adversary — the black demon of the woods.”
“How certain are we that this thing is bad?” I ask.
“Marksman, how often has anything we’ve encountered been good so far?” Bets responds. “Safer for us to assume the worst. As for hoping for something better, I’ve given up on hope.”