Peering between the dense tree trunks, the gloom of the forest started to take shape. Maylie saw straggly bushes and fern-covered slopes. It looked like any other woodland: a tangle of moss, thorns and vines. A few paces ahead, Maylie saw a fallen tree branch, long and curved, not like the spindly sticks and twigs she had been foraging from the mountainside. Without thinking, she stepped closer, pushing her way through crackling brown nettles and bracken, wading into the forest.
Beneath the canopy of tall, bare trees, the air was hushed and quiet, but that was all. No dragon came rushing out to attack her, and no mountain wolf leapt from the darkness. Maylie picked up the fallen branch and tucked it into her basket with a triumphant grin. She was about to turn back to the path, when something else caught her eye. She paused and squinted. Then she grinned again.
Hurrying over the moss-covered ground, she ran to a patch of vegetation that looked like tugwort. Kneeling, she rubbed the waxy, dark red leaves of the plant between her fingers. Itwastugwort. There were sketches of it in her aunt’s herbology notebooks and its prickly stem was unmistakable. Tugwort used to grow west of thevillage by the lake, but Tadrie said she had not seen it for several winters now. It eased eczema and itchy skin better than anything else. Maylie grabbed handfuls of the red leaves and shoved as many as she could fit into the pocket of her pinafore.
As she climbed back to her feet, she spotted more plants that she recognized: milk scum, spotted pep and darque. They were lush and plentiful, not like the scrubby, stunted patches Maylie had to forage from on the outskirts of the village. She began filling another pocket with darque leaves, wishing she had her aunt’s shears.
While Maylie wiped her hands on her skirt, a quiver of leaves caught her attention. She assumed it was a bird, or perhaps a squirrel or a lovetail, but when she straightened up, she came face to face with a beautiful, terrifying sight.
Hello, child.
Maylie froze, her body turned to stone.
She stared at impossibly fine features etched into bark-like skin. Vines coiled like hair from a head and leaves fanned across two cheeks. The creature appeared half human and half tree, its limbs merging into branches, its ankles disappearing into roots.
It stood just a few paces from Maylie, which was the closest she had been to one of the Hidden People. She knew she ought to be scared, but she felt surprisingly calm.
It is time for us to meet.
Maylie opened her mouth to reply, but the words she wanted to say morphed into sounds and gestures of their own accord. The response surged up from somewhere deeper than thought, bypassing language and logic. Her fingers twitched in intricate motions, and her tongue shaped syllables she did not recognize:You have been watching me.
She stopped, shocked.
Her eyes stung as if she had been staring into the summer sun and her head throbbed with pressure. She did not know how she had replied in the language of the Hidden People. Her hands at her sides trembled and she stumbled backwards, her pulse drumming in her ears. She felt suddenly unmoored, as if the ground beneath her no longer followed the laws of the realm she knew. She shivered, not in fear, but from a sudden awareness that she had crossed a threshold she could not uncross.
You have been avoiding us,said the creature.
I was scared,Maylie replied before she could stop herself. Mountain folk were taught to remain cautious around the Hidden People, never giving too much away, but Maylie felt oddly safe with this creature.
It tilted its head to one side and regarded her with an unblinking green gaze.You have nothing to fear. There are those who will suffer directly, but it will not be you.
This must be the notorious, fickle speech of the Hidden People. Maylie felt so dazed by the fact that she was actually speaking to such a creature that it took a moment for its words to register.
Who will suffer?she asked.
But no answer came.
You have taken things from the forest.
Maylie touched her bulging pockets.It is a few leaves,she replied.Herbs that do not grow anywhere else. I meant no harm.
I know where you can find more.
The corners of the creature’s mouth were half raised in something that could almost be a smile. If Maylie did not know better, she would think it looked welcoming. She wanted to ask it what it was – a tree? A beast? A person? But she sensed such a question was not appropriate.
I would like to see more,she replied instead.
I can guide you through the forest. I can—
A twig snapped near by. Then branches rustled. The jade belly of a lovetail flashed above them as it pounced between trees.
Maylie yelped in surprise, panic thundering through her. She sucked in a steadying breath and told herself there was nothing to fear. It was just a lovetail. With her heart still pounding in her chest, she turned back to the creature.
But it was gone.
Maylie’s head swivelled left and right, her gaze raking through the darkness, but there was nothing there. Only bushes, ferns and tall, silent trees. Maylie bent and gathered one more handful of darque; then she turned and began picking her way back out of the forest.
In a few moments, she emerged into the soft, orange and pink of an autumnal afternoon. She blinked in the sudden brightness, her head heavy and blurred. Looking back over her shoulder at the forest, she could just make out something behind her, a silver shadow flickering in the gloom.
