I called to Occam, visible through the open door, that everything was negative and that I was heading out back. He stiffened, suggesting that he didn’t like me going out on my own, but after a moment he nodded, rigid, but accepting.
I walked behind the barn, away from the house, and let my eyes adjust to the total dark again. Without the security lights it was dark as the devil’s armpit. There were gates in three directions, to three different pastures. Bending under one railing, I stepped into the pasture beyond, one facing the opposite direction from the one Adrian’s Hell had been let free in. A night breeze, damp with a coming rain, ruffled my hair. My curls tightened and I felt a leaf unfurl. Reaching up, I found where it tickled and pinched it off. I didn’t really want to drop my leaves on foreign soil, so I tucked it into my jeans pocket. I walked a short distance and turned my cell’s flashlight on, studying the grass. It looked healthy and rich, and I sensed nodeath and decayback here or anywhere on the property. But my job meant verifying what I already knew.
Holding the potted tree upright, the blanket over one arm, I put away the cell, bent down, and pushed through the grass to touch the earth with one fingertip.
Death and decaygrabbed my finger and slammed needles into my flesh. I jerked away, spun toward the fence. Stumbled. Whispering, “Oh no, oh no, oh no...” over and over. My finger burned as if I’d stuck it into hot coals. The pain was so intense I wasn’t thinking, trying to see my hand in the dark, running night-blind. The stabbing crawled up my finger.
Burning. Piercing. Sharp as frozen glass.
My entire arm cramped.
Frantic, I wiped traces of dirt off my finger onto my jeans.Lurched to the fence and fell through the bottom two rails. To the ground. I landed on top of the blanket. My back arched in agony. My lungs shut down. I closed my eyes. I saw black flames tipped with red bending, rushing toward me. Encircling me. Frozen air sliced me. I couldn’t even gasp.
Something else grabbed my injured finger. Tiny rootlets feathered over it. Pulled my finger to the pot. Beneath the soil.Soulwood soil. Cool damp soil, the best mountain loam. I managed a breath. The relief was short-lived. The vampire tree shoved roots into my finger. And wrapped them around my hand. Climbing, following the burning invasion. My scream strangled.
Holding the pot tight for fear it would take off my entire hand if I dropped it, my body curled around the pot in a spasm, shaking. A long, pained mewl escaped my mouth. Tears and snot watered the pot’s soil. Some of the soil spilled onto the barn dirt beside me. When it touched, bright lights lit inside my brain.
Against the brightness, I saw the Green Knight, sitting astride a pale green horse, the mental manifestation the vampire tree took when it communicated with me. He carried a white halberd in one hand, propped over a shoulder, trailing vines and bursting with green leaves. In the other hand he carried a lance, the long pole the dark green of fir leaves, the entire length trailing more vines, green leaves fluttering in an unseen wind. He kneed his horse forward, guiding him without reins. The horse burst into a gallop. Hooves thundered, the massive warhorse racing toward me.
The lance was centered on my chest. My body tightened in response and I caught my breath, ready to run. But there was no place to run, not here.
A thought came to me.Hold.
Around me death flames crackled. Black flares flickered, ice and flame tinged dully red. Roaring closer. They attacked, burning, blistering, freezing, icy. The flames were superheated icy glass, sharp and shattered, slicing along my body. Surrounding me. They were a prison that was created to consume.
The Green Knight’s lance passed over my shoulder. Pierced into the blaze.
The horse rammed at me.
I felt no impact.
The knight rode through me, his leaves and bark and hisarmor frozen, an arctic steel that stole my warmth. A ripping, tearing sound.
My finger stopped hurting.
Just stopped.
“Nell? Nell!” Occam cursed.
I felt his fingers at my neck, taking my pulse. I managed a gagging sort of moan and he turned me on my side. I caught a breath. I didn’t throw up.
“What happened? Nell, talk to me.”
“Get off the ground. Death and decay,” I whispered, warning through a throat that felt as if I had guzzled acid. “Here.”
“I don’t feel it,” he said. He pulled me onto his knee, off the ground, cradling me. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
I got my eyes to focus. I wasn’t where I had been before. I looked around, finding my location with the house and barn as reference points. “I got away. I must have... run...” I stopped and breathed for a bit. Occam pulled me closer against him and positioned the tree’s pot in the crook of my body, my hand still wrapped with roots. We were on safe ground. “I got attacked by... trapped in a burst of energies. They kicked my butt. The vampire tree saved me.”
“The vampire tree? The potted plant that has roots stuck into your whole hand? Looks like it’s claiming you rather than saving you,” he growled.
“Trust me. It was saving me.”
“I trustyou, Nell, sugar.” He rocked me and I leaned into him. “I don’t trust that damn tree, but I trust you. You’re ice-cold, Nell. Do I need to get you to a hospital?” I started shivering, and Occam unfolded the pink blanket, draping it over me. We sat there, me snuggled up to his werecat warmth, which was several degrees warmer than standard human. And he was right, I felt nodeath and decayright here. Thank goodness, because Occam was touching the dirt, holding me. And the null room was closed up for the night, nullifying the dead, and I didn’t have a key anyway.
My head began to clear. “I think I’m okay,” I said, my voice rough. Occam hugged me tighter. Closing my eyes, I pressed closer, feeling too cold and too hot all at once. I tried to picture the Green Knight, the shape/name/form/purpose the vampire tree had chosen when it gained sentience. I saw a field of greengrass, a green horse grazing. A man wearing pale green armor stood at a fence, and though his helmet was in place and I couldn’t see his eyes, I got the feeling he was looking right at me. He lifted a hand and drizzled green stuff through his green-steel fingers. It seemed to be important to him, but I had no idea what it meant.
“Ummm? Okay? And thanks,” I whispered to him. He nodded his helmeted head.
