When she was young, her dreams had been dotted with feelings of helplessness, feelings of being caught and unable to break free. Her nightmares had come true, but seeing others marching into a trap was far worse.
Ahead, an old bridge no one ever used—ever—stretched across a river less than a mile long that would mysteriously appear and then disappear into the ground. Horrific stories were attached to the place. Stories of death and despair and lost hope. Get too close and the hair along the back of the neck would rise, followed by the sensation of a hundred needles stabbing the skin. Linger too long and the pain turned torturous and always convinced people to find another route.
Yet the beast flew straight for the bridge. Twenty feet. Ten. They were moving so fast, the pain of needles quickly morphed into the dig of a dagger. Kera cried out and fought against the bubble of her rising panic. Five feet. Two feet. They were at the edge of the gorge.
The tri-top pressed forward. Kera felt the thickness of magic give, like a heavy velvet curtain being ripped apart, and the little gorge suddenly turned into a gaping canyon.
The next wingbeat brought into the view the land of the Unknown. No one had to tell her. She just knew. It was a place where only the harshest and most vicious of creatures lived. Nothing kept the evil in check except the cloaking spell and the ragged and impossibly deep chasm magic had created.
As soon as they hit the edge of the canyon, the pain ceased and Kera closed her eyes. All sound dropped away as if it were being sucked into the abyss. The tri-top’s wings beat harder, straining to reach the other side. Only when the sound of the wind against the leaves returned did she open her eyes. The Unknown stretched out before them, much larger than she ever dreamt possible. In the distance, a lake the color of amethyst sparkled eerily, and beyond that a smoldering caldera spewed thick, acrid smoke.
The struggle to fly across the chasm caused them to drastically drop lower. They were skimming the top of the forest where the trees jutted out at strange angles and rough leaves edged in silver shimmered prettily. Kera couldn’t stop her feet from hitting a few branches and knocking the leaves free. Dozens of cuts slashed across her boots’ stiff leather, and a silver-edged leaf got stuck.
The leaves were as sharp as knives.
The tri-top fought to fly higher, banked to the left, and headed straight toward the caldera. Even in the light of day, the pop and spit of lava could be seen.
“Oh no, no, no.” An image of her being dropped into the caldera, skin and muscles blistering off her bones, caused Kera’s stomach to wrench against itself.
Every action in life carried risk. If she did nothing, she was sure she would die. She had to reach her incordium dagger. Seeing a branch sticking into the air, she waited. When they flew over, she placed her feet on the limb and pushed, sweeping her legs up. She grabbed the dagger’s hilt sticking out from her boot and pulled the weapon free. Her grip was so tight, she could feel the ridges on the hilt dig into her fingers. The tri-top jerked higher, gaining distance between them and the treetops.
Falling into the trees, there was a chance at life. With a quick motion, she cut the tendon on the tri-top’s left claw. The animal screamed and jerked its foot up, letting her left arm go in the process. As she hung suspended in one claw, she waited for a gap in the trees. When she saw one, she quickly slit the other tendon. The claw opened and she slid free, the talon scraping her skin raw.
She called on the trees to catch her, but only a few limbs quivered at her command. Concentrating harder, the leaves trembled, and at the last moment, they detached from the branch, falling to the ground just as the limb shot out and plucked her from midair.
Kera’s heart thudded wildly as she lay stunned in the crook of the newly bare branch. The landing had been hard, not at all like the soft touch of the trees in her woods. It was almost as if the tree fought to obey her. Her right shoulder was bloody and raw, and her back hurt from the landing, but she was alive. She eased herself into a sitting position and gauged the distance to the ground. More than ten feet by her estimation. She carefully plucked an especially nasty sharp leaf from her boot and prepared to jump.
Before she could do it, a bird landed on the end of her branch and cocked its vibrant blue head. A series of crisp, high notes sang out and the bird turned its hypnotic yellow eyes on Kera. The long, multicolored tail swished in a way that made the colors shimmer. Like the eye-catching shimmer of the silver-edged cutting leaves, there was always danger hidden within the beauty of the Unknown.
Kera sat perfectly still, hoping the bird would fly off. One moment the bird sat prettily, the next moment, it morphed into an emaciated girl, crouched and snarling. The beautiful feathers were replaced by reptilian scales, and the tail was now a whip of skin and bone. The girl’s stiff lips parted. No sound came forth, but Kera’s head felt as if it were being torn apart.
She slumped backward and flipped off the branch, miraculously landing solidly on the ground. Like a worm working its way into an apple, the pain burrowed deeper inside her head. Kera closed her eyes and blindly darted into the shadows. She wanted to cry, to stop and curl into a ball. Her feet tangled and she stumbled. Mind full of pain, she whimpered and felt a warm trickle of blood seep from her nose. Even as she felt her mind tearing under the onslaught, she forced herself to keep moving.
Though she tried, the forest didn’t respond to her commands, as if it balked at helping something destined to die anyway. She ended up barreling through the brambles. Barbs tore through her clothes, leaving behind nasty scratches.
Though the pain slowly faded, her heart raced. She had to calm down. Her mad dash into the woods was doing more harm than good. Slowing, she listened for any pursuit.
The woods were quiet, all except a strange cry she couldn’t quite place. Was it up ahead? Behind her? Kera pushed her way forward until the trees thinned at the edge of a clearing. The strange cry sounded again, closer. It held a note of misery to it. Peeking through the brambles, she saw movement in the clearing. The wounded tri-top that had carried her here lay on the ground as a pack of huge wolflike creatures soundlessly tore into it. Their quiet ferocity chilled her, and in minutes, the tri-top was a jumbled pile of blood, feathers, and bones. It had served its purpose by bringing her here. She could only guess that whoever had enchanted it didn’t care if it lived or died. Much like her. A shiver crawled down her back.
One of the wolves suddenly turned and stared in the direction Kera was hiding, its eyes glowing red in the fading light. The creature stood on its back legs like a man and walked closer, its powerful body undulating grotesquely as it moved. It sniffed the air. Kera shrank against the shadows, her breathing so faint, her vision blackened around the edges.
The wolf-man suddenly stopped when one of the others drew closer, yipping and snipping, sharp teeth flashing threateningly. The wolf-man turned with hackles raised and growled.
While their attention was diverted, Kera scooted away on trembling legs. A light rain had begun, its erratic patter enough to cover the sound of her escape. It was all she could do not to run from the area in horror at what she’d just seen.
When she finally stopped, the woods were cloaked in rain and darkness. The downpour made her progress miserable. Standing still left her struggling to stay upright. She had to find shelter somewhere safe and dry, but all she found was rain, soggy ground, broken fingernails, and a bone-deep chill. She couldn’t imagine finding a dry patch of ground, let alone shelter. It took her a half hour more of slipping and catching herself against one tree after another before she found a den made by some large animal. It had been dug at the base of an earthen slope. Bushes not only concealed the entrance, but it was a natural wind- and rain break. Kera eased the foliage from the entrance and stooped inside. Cobwebs stretched across the opening and clung thickly to the walls—a sign the den had been abandoned long ago. Although she wasn’t fond of spiders, she didn’t think twice about going in. The den wound deeply into the earth, and when she reached as far back as she could go, she dropped to her knees and hugged her torso.