Midnight in Everwood(30)
Marietta fled. Her lungs heaving, her throat closing with panic, she ran towards where she approximated the town ought to be. But the sweet melody that had first entranced her had vanished long ago and all that lay before her were firs and snow and stars. She ran deeper into the forest. A stray branch lashed out, slicing her arm, and she cried out.
Branches drooped under the weight of the snow blanketing the forest. Once, Madame Belinskaya had told stories of the stretch of ice that comprised Siberia, wild and vast, and Marietta had shivered to hear them. Now she found herself venturing further into this land, she couldn’t help imagining how one could lose themselves in a place such as this.
She forced herself to run faster, her breath tearing from her lungs. Her cut was a long scarlet thread from which droplets beaded down onto the snow. Her fairy tale had become Hansel and Gretel, cut from a darker cloth. When she glanced back, she saw her blood freezing in place like tiny rubies. A dark mist was stalking her, following the blood trail. Marietta let out a quiet sob no one would hear and ran on, weaving between the gigantic firs, despairing of her pursuing fate. It became harder to breathe and eventually she slowed.
Shadow pooled at her feet and the air was suddenly awash with whispers. Harsh and guttural, they were in no language she might discern yet they spoke of her darkest fears and stole her breath with their creeping fingers. Her chest squeezed tighter than an over-laced corset. She inched backward until she felt herself pressed against a fir. Its rough trunk scratched, the entire forest craving a bite of her flesh. ‘What are you?’
The whispers thickened until a thousand voices filled her head, pressing against her skull, choking her with fear and doubt, and all the while the forest grew darker and darker until even the stars were a memory. She stumbled and reached her palm out, arresting her fall on a tree. It was wracked with vibrations. A distant trembling shook the forest. Something was moving towards her. The reverberations grew louder and nearer before she placed the sound; hooves pounding into the snow.
The shadows soared at her like a great-winged bat and wrapped their wings of darkness around her, close and suffocating. Marietta’s vision shuttered and she fell into the snow. With great effort, she reopened her eyes, watching the tendrils snaking around her. Her thoughts were crystallised as old honey, her breaths slow and shallow as if she were drowning in a sticky sea of it.
In a spray of snow and a deep grunting, a large sleigh appeared, rushing through the firs. Two moose pulled it, crowned with widespread antlers. Filigreed silver runners swirled up into ornate mice that fronted the sleigh, staring through the forest with hunters’ eyes. Glossy obsidian sides were hung with lanterns that flickered with an icy glow and four soldiers sat within, on garnet-cushioned benches. The one at the forefront spotted Marietta in the snow and gave a sharp pull on the reins, halting the pair of moose.
The darkness having receded a little at their presence, Marietta rose to her feet. Tendrils of shadow clung to her feet, coiling up her legs.
A soldier exited the sleigh. He was dressed in the same fashion as the others; a double-breasted garnet jacket, adorned with gold buttons and epaulettes, and cream breeches tucked into black boots. Tall, with broad shoulders and sculpted features, he regarded her seriously. He appeared as if he had been painted from one palette; his irises were butterscotch, his face golden and capped with bronze hair. He reminded Marietta of the bronzes she’d studied in Athens when her father had taken her and Frederick in the name of education. She swayed on her feet, unsure for a moment if she was walking those buttery sunshine streets once more, but no; that soft glow was silvered starlight. It had returned. Yet still the darkness clung to her, its whispers softer, scuttling into her ears alone, her breaths catching in her throat.
Before she could speak, the soldier unsheathed a silver sword, cutting through the air, a whisper’s-width from Marietta’s arm. She gasped and looked down. The sword was agleam with the light of a thousand stars. It cut through the shadows like smoke and severed their hold on Marietta. She filled her lungs with relief, holding an unsteady hand to her chest.
The shadows crept away and misted out of sight.
The soldier considered Marietta. She met his eyes, her head echoing with warnings.
‘The forest is no place for wanderers. You are fortunate you merely encountered the Shadows,’ he said at last, sheathing his sword. ‘I am Captain Legat, leader of the King’s Army, and I shall grant you our assistance if you’ll accompany us.’ He failed to voice it as a question. Stepping back into the sleigh, he took up the reins once more. The moose pawed the snow in impatience.
Another soldier hopped from the sleigh and offered her his hand. Marietta hesitated. The captain glanced back at her. ‘My offer shall not stand for much longer.’
Marietta stiffened at his tone. ‘I’m merely contemplating whether or not to trust you.’
The soldier offering his hand smiled. ‘Listen. Do you hear that?’
Other than the soldiers and moose, the forest was silent. Marietta looked at him in confusion. His smile turned wicked. ‘In Everwood, we say when the forest sings with life, you may bide your time for its attentions reside elsewhere. It is when the forest falls silent that it has turned its eye on you.’
She looked back. The trees devoured the horizon, their silence becoming ever more ominous the longer she considered it. There was not a branch sighing in the breeze, no suggestion of birdsong, nor the soft patter of shifting snow.