Chapter 8

When dawn broke, the morning was crisp and cold, and Elaine did not know that three pairs of eyes were watching her. The first hint of autumn was in the air, a smell of ripe apples and sweet cider, but Elaine did not bother to stop to appreciate the beauty around her. When she awoke, she carefully got up, silently put on her clothes, and stole away, leaving Renard snoring softly by the fire.

The marks she had made in the trees were still there. Every day when she had marked the trees, it wasn't for a reminder or some sort of recognition that she was there. It was to mark her way home. She decided it was time. 

I am not going to stay in a forest where there are creeping things out to snatch you in your sleep, she thought. 

She looked for the tale tell markings, and began to follow them back in the direction of home. They were easy enough to spot: just a small, white X about eye-height, impossible to be mistaken for anything else. 

Elaine had walked for about an hour before she noticed something strange; indeed, she still did not notice the beings hiding in the shadows, moving quicker than a striking snake.

She did not notice them whispering among themselves, making plans, honing in on her. What she did notice was that she had passed the same boulder already about fifteen minutes ago. It was impossible to miss, a huge, hulking thing, gray as an elephant, towering over here, seemingly dropped from the sky. 

Am I going in circles? She thought. 

Then, a thought hit her. She ran to a tree, found a marking. The next marking should have been in a straight line due east, but when she broadened her scope, she found that the next one was much closer than it should have been, and far off the line of the horizon. She found more markings, going in all four directions. 

She began to feel the dread of being lost and alone in the woods build in her like a fire. Her stomach burned, and she cursed herself for leaving Renard and thinking she could have found her way home by herself. 

Then, she heard a twig snap. She whirled around and found three men standing a dozen paces away from her. They were huge men, with raggedy, torn clothes, greasy hair, and gnarled teeth. Even from this distance, she could smell the odor wafting from them, ripe onions and the sickly sour smell of old sweat. They were armed to the teeth. 

"Hello, little girl," said one, brandishing a cutlass. "What are you doing here all alone?"

Elaine's heart began to race. Her mind scrambled for something to do. If she ran, they could easily outpace her. If she somehow miraculously slipped away, she would be even more lost and would possibly never find Renard again. She could not beat them physically; she had nothing to protect herself, except the small knife, which would be useless against cutlasses and swords. 

"She's not alone," said a whispery, baritone voice. "She's with me." A man stepped up beside her. He had auburn hair and bright orange eyes. His eyes had a rich glow to them, almost as if they were lit from the inside. If Elaine would have looked closer, she would have seen that his teeth were sharply filed. 

"Elaine," whispered the man. "Trust me and I will help you escape these thieves."

In an instant, Elaine felt both relief and intense curiosity. Who was this seemingly random man, and why did he care about helping her? 

"Still," sneered the thief, for that's what they were. Their camp of twenty thieves and murderers lay not very far from where they stood. They wandered, gypsies, always on the move, forever on the run from justice. "The three of us against the two of you, and one of you's a girl. Give us all you got, and we'll kill you real quick. Give us any trouble, and Bartie here will slice you nice and slow."

One of the men, skinny, bald, with wrinkles and dark spots covering his head smiled, picking his teeth with his knife. 

"Elaine, listen to me," said the man from the corner of his mouth. "The second law of fear is to not show fear in the face of danger. Fear attracts itself; if you show courage, you will feel it. Now, pretend to be a powerful witch and threaten to turn those men into animals if they come one step closer. Then, pretend to turn me into an animal."

Elaine inhaled deeply to steady herself. She had to trust this man completely in this moment. She had never trusted a stranger before so completely.

Do not show panic, do not show fear, she thought. If we are going to leave here alive, I only have one chance to do this right.

"Brigands!" she cried. The strength of her own voice surprised her.  "I am the most powerful witch alive, and if you take one step closer, I will turn you all into animals!"

The thieves looked at each other and laughed. The first one spoke: "You're pretty small to be a witch. And far too pretty."

"Idiots!" screamed Elaine. She felt the momentum building. It was just like being in the holiday story telling, when everyone took turns around the fire to act out their favorite parts. 

Except, it's life or death now.

More loudly, she cried, "Behold my power. The same fate will befall you if you do not leave immediately!"

Elaine took a few steps from the man and held her hands out. She began to wiggle her fingers and sway, chanting nonsense words.

"Higgledy-biggeldy. Allapallala. Vamoosh!" 

To the surprise of the thieves, and Elaine herself, the man began to shrink. Fur sprouted from his skin, whiskers grew on his face, and he fell forward on all four feet. Within moments, a fox stood before them.

"Prepare to face the same fate!" cried Elaine. She held up her hands, extended her fingers in the thieves' direction. "Higgledy-biggledy—"

"Aaaaaah! Let's get out of here!" cried the one called Bartie. He grabbed the two others and they raced away, sprinting all the way back to their campsite.

When Elaine looked down, she saw a very familiar, furry face. 

*

These woods have been my home for the better part of five hundred years, and I know them better than any living being, but they will still surprise me. They will still throw something my way that I'll have to dodge or run faster than lightning to escape. They can be friendly, but just like a neighbor who is strict with welcomes: once you've worn yours away, that's it. No more playing. 

So I suppose it's no grand wonder that she struggled so much at first, but please: did she have to be so fearful? I am probably being too hard on her. She's only a young girl, after all, a young girl who had never traveled away from the comfort of home. 

She's smart; I will applaud her that. She learns quickly, and she took to living in the forest fairly fast as well. She learned how to skin the rabbits, forage for berries and tubers, build a fire, boil water for washing clothes, bathe in the clear, cool streams. (Although at one point, she thought about wrapping her cloak around her feet for protection from nibbling fish, and I nearly bit her ankle.) She is smart, yes, but she tends to get in her own way. She knows all the dangers that might exist, and she'll use that thinking machine to discover twenty different ways of escaping them, but on the other hand, her emotions are tied too fiercely to that reasoning. 

Is that a human thing?

She has her roots deeply entwined in the past. She could fly, but she always keeps one foot on the ground.. I saw what she was doing with that ridiculous scratching, and I knew immediately why she was doing it. Better than a trail of breadcrumbs, I suppose (Seriously, did those two children want to be eaten? Did they not realize that other things live in the forest that like bread?)

I know I should tell her my secret. It'll come out sooner or later. I have a feeling it will be sooner, rather than later. Well, not all the secrets. Just the small one. 

But I am here for one thing above all else: to stay alive. That is my only objective. And if that means toting a frightening, fainthearted girl halfway into the deep forest, then fine. She will learn. She has to.

*

Elaine and Renard walked back to the campsite in silence. The tension between them hung thick and heavy, like storm clouds in the sky about to burst. Elaine felt guilty for leaving Renard, for trying to be deceitful, but she longed to go home with every fiber of her being. She didn't want this responsibility, this weight on her. When she thought about it, she felt suffocated, as though someone were slowly pressing her face with a pillow.

Still, she burned with curiosity about Renard. Had he always been able to turn into a fox? Was he truly a fox or a man? How did he come to be that way? Although she had a hundred other questions for him, her guilt made her hold her tongue. 

When they arrived, Elaine picked up a few rabbits and squirrels Renard had hunted  to skin for their night's supper. She glanced at Renard, afraid that he might be angry or disappointed with her. Surprisingly, his face was blank, and he went along the campsite softly humming to himself, at times licking a paw or stopping to smell the air. 

Perhaps it is because he is a fox that he can hide so well, thought Elaine. Who knows what he might be feeling?

She ached to ask him about his shapeshifting, but decided to take a safer route. 

"How did you know where I was?" she asked. 

Renard glanced up. "You're not nearly as clever as you think you are. When you left the camp, you were louder than a bear stomping through underbrush. I followed you," he replied. 

Elaine's cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

"And it seems I was not the only one who did," he said. "What were you thinking going off into the woods by yourself?"

Indeed, what had she been thinking? She would never have done that otherwise, face the deep unknowns of the forest alone. In her mind's eyes she had seen her family gathered around the fireplace, and that was all she needed to leave. 

"I don't want to be here," she replied lamely. Even she could hear how pathetic she sounded. 

*

It was the fourth day of walking, and the forest began to become stranger and wilder. The trees became huge, growing hundreds of feet in the air, some with trunks dozens of feet across, so large that Elaine thought she could fit a small house inside one. Flowers became ever more exotic, with vibrant colors of royal blue, deep burgundy, and lemon yellow. Their petals opened to the sky, some stretched dozens of feet into the air; some grew only in the morning, some twisted around the trees, or grew gently by a stream. 

Animal calls also changed. Familiar sounds of owl hoots and songbirds were replaced by wild chants, savage cries of beasts she had never heard before, and whispers on the wind that raised goosebumps on her arms. Even the smells of the forest were different. Where once she had smelled fresh pine, blackberries, and rosemary, she now smelled mint, thyme, and something she could not quite identify. It was as if the forest had once smelled of home, of sunshine, and spring, but now smelled deeper, more earthy. It was the smell of ancient books, old leather, the sour-sweet smell of tobacco burning. It was the smell of ancient things still standing, hundreds or thousands of years of waiting. 

By now, she and Renard had a good system; he would look for rabbits or other wild game, and she would gather any fruits, roots, or nuts that she found. She found a good source of running water and boiled it in the small pan her parents had given her. Sometimes she missed them so badly it felt as though her heart would break, but she did not let Renard see the small tears flow down her face.

Every night, she stared at a small leaf in front of her, willing it to raise, being unable to. She wondered why her magic came and went, why she could not control it. Renard said completely encouraging things like, "You're trying too hard," and "Stop giving up before you try." It was frustrating being unable to do such a simple thing. She thought she was supposed to be learning magic! Yet it would not come.

And so it was that one morning, after finding a stream to bathe in, the cold shocking the sleep from Elaine's system, that she went to find fruit for their mid-day meal. After meandering a bit from the campsite, she found a grove of trees. The trees were tall, with wide, silvery trunks. The leaves were dark, velvety green on one side and silver on the other. The bark on them was deeply grooved, and if Elaine looked closely, she could imagine faces on some of them. 

The fruit on these trees was the most luscious-looking fruit Elaine had seen in all her life. With skin of deep purple, about the size of her fist, they dripped from the tree like droplets of water. The tree bore so much fruit that many of the pods had dropped around the tree and split open, their aroma permeating the air around the grove. The fruit smelled like lavender mixed with honey and warm summer rain. The smell that hung in the air was heady and bade Elaine to come nearer. 

Elaine plucked one from a branch, and she bit into it. Juice ran down her chin, as she closed her eyes and let the taste dissolve in her mouth. It was the sweetest, most delicious fruit she had ever tasted; it was as though the sun had been made into a fruit. Elaine picked more, tearing fruit off branches. She was so consumed by the taste of the magnificent fruit, that she did not notice a long, slender branch creeping behind her. 

The branch grabbed her, lifting her off her feet. She gasped and dropped her bag and the fruit she was holding. The tree lifted her several feet off the ground. Fear poured into her, but Renard's words rang in her mind: Do not panic. 

The tree began to laugh. Elaine watched in horror as the bark of the trunk of the tree twisted and writhed, and a face indeed did emerge when it was still. It was an old and ugly face, with menacing eyes, and a wide, gaping mouth. 

"It looks like we found our next meal!" cackled the tree. Its voice was rough and guttural and sounded as though rocks were being rubbed together.

The other trees in the grove joined in the laughter; some laughs were high-pitched squeals, others low rumbles; all were menacing and slightly insane. Elaine noticed other tree trunks had faces, with dark, black eyes, and the holes in the middle of their trunks were mouths. The bark around these holes was jagged and sharp, and she realized that they were teeth. 

"Don't eat me!" she cried. "Let me go!"

"Aaaah...a human," said the first tree. "It has been so long since we've had human. What are you doing so far and deep in these woods, little human, and so very, very alone?"

Do not panic, and do not show fear. 

Elaine mustered up her most confident voice, although her insides were quaking. 

"I am not alone! I travel with a woodsman, and he has an axe, a very, very large axe, and he will be by soon... and chop you to pieces, unless you put me down."

The tree laughed, lifted its branches and tossed her to another tree. Elaine screamed as she flew through the air. Another tree lifted a branch and caught her mid-air by the ankle. She hung upside down in its powerful grasp. It brought Elaine close to its mouth, inhaling her scent. As it did, Elaine saw sticky sap drip down its jagged bark-teeth. The new tree lifted another branch and brushed away a strand of hair away from her face. 

"It will only take a moment to eat you, little one," said the new tree, its voice high-pitched and as rough as its bark. It tossed her to the next tree. 

"Yes," said another. "Do not think you will escape." It threw her to the original tree. Elaine shrieked each time she was thrown; she could not help the sound as it tore from her throat. 

"You don't have to do this!" she said. She struggled against the tree. "I can bring you a deer, or many deer, for all of you, if you just let me go!"

The tree shook its branches. "Deer are hard to come by this deep in the woods. We have waited so long for our prey; we do not want to wait any longer. Besides, you took a bite of me. Why should I not take a bite of you?"

"I'm sorry," sobbed Elaine. "I didn't realize you were alive."

"All trees are alive, stupid girl," replied the tree.

"You know what I mean!" Elaine shrieked. "Please let me go, and I promise that I will bring you something else, something bigger!"

"Besides," said the tree, ignoring her pleading. "We know what you have been doing to our brethren. You've been slicing out pieces of their tree-skin. Well, maybe it's time to do the same with you!"

"No!" Elaine cried. "Please don't!"

The tree's only reply was to bring Elaine closer to its mouth. It opened wide, sap dripping; it closed its eyes in anticipation of its meal. 

Elaine struggled and wished that the tree could be as paralyzed as the pixies had been. She tried to clear her mind as Renard had said to. She imagined that the tree was stone, that it was frozen in time. 

Something in her mind and spirit clicked together. She felt the familiar tingling, traveling up through her body. This time, it was easier to release it. She let go and felt the magic flow through her and into the tree. 

The tree began to change color from its silvery bark to dull grey. The supple bark turned hard and brittle, and the color spread out from the branch that was holding Elaine. 

"What is this?" said the tree. "What is happening?"

Elaine concentrated harder. The magic flowed through her, and she felt herself tapping into the flow, the deep magic of before time's commencement. She felt the universe shift beneath her. She began to feel dizzy. Stars swam before her eyes, but she held on. 

"What are you doing to me?!" shrieked the tree. The dull grey was spreading down to its trunk, through all of its branches. The leaves and fruit turned gray and hard; the fruit became too heavy to support and began dropping off the tree. 

"Stop it! Stoaaaaa—" The tree's speech was cut off as the color reached its mouth. Its eyes froze, and its mouth stilled in a perpetual gape. For its final act, the tree tried to loosen its grip on Elaine, but it was too late. It had turned to stone. 

Elaine dropped to the ground and ran back to the camp as fast as she could, before the other trees could snatch her. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt so dizzy. She crashed into the campsite, and in the effort of expending so much energy so fast, collapsed into unconsciousness. 

*

When she awoke, Renard was staring at her. Suddenly, all the stress and all the fear and anger and homesickness that had been building inside her broke, like a beaver sawing through a tree trunk. This forest was deep and dark and strange, and if she had faced so much so soon, she did not know how she could possibly continue. She had not even encountered Margaret yet, and it was already so hard. Just thinking about taking one more step made something snap inside of her.

"Take me back!" Elaine shouted at Renard. "Take me back right now! I am tired of facing horrors and evil. I am tired of having magic but not knowing how to use it. And I am tired of living in fear that something will attack me the very moment I let down my guard!"

She panted deeply. She hated being in this forest so much. She didn't know whether the next step would lead her to her death or some useless exercise of Renard's. They had been walking for days, and it seemed like they would never reach Margaret. She would never accomplish what she set out to do. She would die in this forest, filled with insects and snakes, trees that tried to eat you, bandits that tried to rob you, pixies and Baba Yaga, and foxes that never showed their true face. 

"Listen!" barked Renard. His orange fur bristled. "Yes, there have been scary things, but that's beautiful, magical, ugly, exhilarating life. The second you step out of your house any number of bad things could happen to you. Wolves could slink out of the forest and grab you, or an errant woodsman's axe could chop off your hand, or you could be scalded by burning hot water. You are never completely safe, no matter where you go. Dangerous things abound, and they are never going to go away. You can't hide from them all your life."

Elaine felt something crack inside her. She sat down and began to cry softly. 

"I just want to go home," she said softly. All of her frustration poured out as tears, salty and sweet. She missed her parents; she missed Zachary. She longed for her bakery and her village. It was true that she would never be safe anywhere, but home seemed the safest place on earth, especially compared to the forest. The leaves seemed to press all around her, suffocating, pressing the breath right out of her. 

"Listen," he said more gently. His voice lowered and the honeyed tones soothed Elaine. His fur gradually lowered. "From the very beginning you've had one foot here and one foot on your hearthstone, and it's tearing you apart. When you marked your X's on the trees, that was a child's teddy, something to hold onto at night to rock yourself to sleep. Now it's time to make a decision. You need to be fully in these woods, or else you will never achieve what you set out to do." 

Elaine knew it was true. She had been pretending at bravery all this time. She had been a baby sucking on her thumb; now it was time to grow up.

"Home will always be there," said Renard. "Look at me."

She did, her eyes bright, nose red, and cheeks blotchy and puffy. 

"Do you have any idea how brave you are?" he said. "Most people never leave their homes, never venture out more than ten miles from where they are born. They live their entire lives under the same stars, eating the same food, doing the same thing until they are old and wrinkled, and then they die."

Elaine sniffed. "I'm not brave."

Renard gave her a bop on the nose with his paw. "Yes, you are, now stop saying that. Remember all that you have faced. Yes, creeping vines and carnivorous trees, pixies, and rapids. And you've bested them all! You are still alive, and you are still here. Every single bad thing that has happened to you has made you stronger than you were. The first step to bravery is to believe that you are brave. Now, repeat that ten thousand times in your mind."

Elaine looked into Renard's eyes. They were as deep and shiny as new copper coins. Whatever else he may be, he became her friend in that moment. 

"I just miss my family so much. What if something happens to them while I'm gone?"

Renard sighed, pushed his little furry head into her lap. She began to scratch the top of his head. "Any number of things might happen while you are gone. They would happen even if you were there. You can't stop the bad things from happening. All you can do is react to what happens, when it happens. Not before. They will still be there when you return."

Elaine stroked Renard's silky fur, soaking up all that he had said. She clung to his promise like a drowning man clings to a rope in the water. 

"I still feel scared," she said at last. 

Renard twisted around to look at her and gave her hand a little lick. "That is ok. Bravery is not the absence of fear. Bravery can happen when you are so afraid that you think you might die, but you keep going anyway. You set out into the woods a terrified little girl, and you are still a terrified little girl, but not so much as you were before."

Elaine stilled. Her tears dried, and her breathing slowed. Renard continued, "Now, you have a choice. You can go back to your home. You can turn your back on Margaret and your promise; you can forget that you live with magic and push it so deep inside you that it dies. Or you can keep going. You can choose to walk forward with your head held high. Now, which will it be?"

Elaine paused. She could go back. She could be back in her own room, her own bed in a few short days. She could forget all about Margaret, all about magic. She could live like a normal person and do all of the things she wanted: bake bread, fish by the river with Zachary, and chat idly with all her friends. The temptation was so strong that it made her heart flutter, made her stomach burn with the longing. She turned her head in the direction of home.

Yet, something tugged at her heart. It was small, so small that it would be so easy to blow it out, like a candle before bedtime. It seemed to lay at the further recess of her mind, right next to where she kept her dearest hopes and dreams. It was a spark, a tiny match in a huge cavern, but it was there. It illuminated her decision. She had made it this far. To turn back now would be to let herself down. She looked back down at Renard.

"Let's keep going," she said.

"Good," said Renard. "Because we've arrived."