The Forests of Silence

A stounded, Lief blinked up at the girl. She was about his own age, elfin-faced, with black hair, slanting black brows, and green eyes. She was dressed in ragged grey clothes that seemed strangely familiar. She was bending over him, unfastening the ties of his cloak.

“Thank heavens you have come!” he whispered.

“This will be useful, Filli,” the girl said.

With a shock, Lief realized that she was not speaking to him, but to a small, furry, wide-eyed creature that was clinging to her shoulder.

“How lucky that we came this way today,” she went on. “If we had left it until tomorrow the cloth would have been quite spoiled.”

With a single push of her slim, sun-browned arm, she rolled Lief onto his side so that she could pull the cloak from beneath him. Then she let him roll back and stood up, the cloak draped carelessly over her arm.

A harsh cry came from overhead. Lief raised his eyes and saw a black bird, a raven, perched in the tree from which the girl had leapt. Its head on one side, it was watching them carefully with one sharp yellow eye.

The girl grinned and held up the cloak. “See what I have found, Kree!” she called. “A fine new blanket for the nest. But we are coming back now. Do not fear.”

She turned to go.

“No!” shouted Lief in panic. “Do not leave us!”

“You cannot leave us here to die!” Barda roared at the same moment. But already the girl had disappeared from sight, taking the cloak with her. And suddenly, in the midst of his despair, Lief thought of his mother’s hands, patiently weaving the cloth by candlelight.

“Bring back my cloak!” he bellowed.

Even as he shouted, he knew how foolish it was. He was going to die, horribly, very soon. What did it matter if the cloak was gone?

But somehow it did matter. “You have no right to take it!” he shouted furiously to the empty air. “My mother made it for me. My mother!”

There was a moment’s silence. Then, to Lief’s astonishment, the girl was back, staring down at him suspiciously through the tangled mass of her hair.

“How could your mother have made this cloak?” she demanded. “Grey Guards do not know their mothers. They are raised in groups of ten, in houses with —”

“I am not a Grey Guard!” shouted Lief. “My friend and I are — travelers, from Del. Can you not see by our garments?”

The girl laughed scornfully. “Your disguise does not fool me. Only Grey Guards take the Wenn Del path, for it leads nowhere but to the Forests.”

She raised her hand to caress the little animal clinging to her shoulder, and her voice hardened. “Many of your fellows have been here before you, seeking living things to take or destroy. They have learned painfully of their mistake.”

“We are not Guards,” Barda called out. “My name is Barda. My companion is Lief. We came to the Forests for good reason.”

“What reason?” the girl demanded disbelievingly.

“We — we cannot tell you,” said Lief.

She turned away, shrugging. With a surge of panic Lief shouted after her. “What is your name? Where is your family? Can you bring them here?”

The girl paused and turned back to look at him again. She seemed puzzled, as though no one had ever asked her such things before. “My name is Jasmine,” she said at last. “Kree and Filli are my family. Grey Guards took my mother and father long ago.”

Lief’s heart sank. So there was no one to help her carry them to safety. But still … she was strong. Perhaps even now there was some way …

“The Grey Guards are our deadly enemies, as they are yours,” he said, as calmly and forcefully as he could. “Our quest to the forest is part of a plan to defeat them — to rid Deltora of the Shadow Lord. Help us, we beg you!”

He held his breath as the girl hesitated, fingering the cloak she still held over her arm. Then, above their heads, the black bird screeched again. Jasmine glanced up at it, threw the cloak down onto Lief’s chest, and darted away without another word.

“Come back!” cried Lief, with all his strength. “Jasmine!” But there was no reply, and when he looked up to the tree again, even the bird had gone.

Lief heard Barda moan once, in helpless anger. Then there was utter silence. No bird sang. No small creature rustled in the grass. It was the silence of waiting. The silence of despair. The silence of death.

The sun sank lower in the sky. Long, dark shadows striped the place where they lay. Soon, very soon, it would be dark. And then, thought Lief, then the Wennbar will come.

The cloak felt warm on his chest. He could not lift a hand to touch it, but still it gave him comfort. He was glad that it was with him. He closed his eyes …

Something gripped his shoulder. He cried out in terror and opened his eyes to see Jasmine’s face close to his.

“Open your mouth!” the girl ordered. “Make haste!” She pushed a tiny bottle towards his lips.

Confused, Lief did as he was told. He felt two cold drops fall on his tongue. A horrible taste filled his mouth.

“What —?” he spluttered.

But Jasmine had already turned away from him. “Open your mouth!” he heard her hissing to Barda.

A moment later Barda made a choking, disgusted sound. Lief realized that he, too, had been given some of the vile-tasting liquid.

“Poison!” Barda rasped. “You —”

Lief’s heart gave a great thud. Then, suddenly, his body grew hot and began to prickle all over. With every instant the feeling grew stronger and more frightening. The heat became burning. The prickles became needle-sharp jabs of pain. It was as though he was caught in a flaming thorn bush.

The warning screech of the bird sounded far above them. The sky was red through the leaves of the tree. Barda was crying out. But now Lief could hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing but his own pain and fear. He began to writhe and thrash on the ground.

Then, dimly, he realized that Jasmine was bending over him. She was pulling at his arms, kicking at him with hard, bare feet. “Get up!” she was urging. “Listen to me! Do you not see what you are doing? You are moving! You can move!”

You can move! Gasping, hardly able to believe it, Lief fought back the pain and struggled to his hands and knees. Blindly he felt for his cloak. He was not going to leave it now.

“The tree!” Jasmine shouted. “Crawl to the tree and climb! The Wennbar is almost upon us!” She had already turned to Barda. He was rolling on his bed of ferns, groaning in agony.

Lief hauled himself towards them, dragging his cloak behind him, but the girl waved him back. “Go!” she cried furiously. “I will see to him! Go! Climb!”

Lief knew she was right. He could not help her, or Barda. It was as much as he could do to help himself. He began to crawl towards the trunk of the great tree. His legs and arms were trembling. His whole body shuddered, swept by waves of heat.

He reached the tree and pulled himself upright. There was a low branch near his hand. He grasped it, panting, and with the other hand pulled his cloak around him.

Only a day or two ago he had climbed a rope to the top of a high wall without a thought. Now he doubted that he could even haul himself onto this branch.

The clearing dimmed. The sun had slipped below the horizon.

High above Lief there was a clatter of wings as the black bird left its perch. Calling harshly, urgently, it soared down to where Jasmine staggered towards the tree with Barda leaning on her shoulder.

“I know, Kree!” Jasmine gasped, as the bird flapped anxiously around her head. “I can smell it.”

As she said the words, Lief smelt something, too. A faint, sickening odor of decay was stealing through the clearing.

His stomach turned over. He tied the strings of the cloak, grasped the branch with both hands, and managed to pull himself up. He clung to the rough bark, panting and shaking, afraid that even now he might fall.

Jasmine and Barda had reached the tree now, the bird still swooping above them. “Higher!” Jasmine shouted to Lief. “As high as you can. It cannot climb, but it will try to claw us down.”

Lief gritted his teeth, lifted his arms, and hauled himself to a higher branch. He heard Barda grunting with effort as he struggled to climb after him. The evil smell was stronger now. And there was a sound — a heavy, stealthy sliding, the snapping of twigs, the rustling of leaves and the cracking of branches as something moved towards the clearing.

“Make haste!” Jasmine had leapt up beside Lief. The tiny creature she called Filli was chattering on her shoulder, its eyes wide with fear.

“Barda —” Lief managed to say.

“He knows what he must do. You can help him only by moving out of his way!” the girl snapped. “Climb, you fool! Do you not understand? The sun has set. The Wennbar is —”

Filli screamed, the black bird screeched. The bushes on the other side of the clearing thrashed and bent. The air thickened with a smell so vile that Lief choked and gagged. Then a huge, hideous creature, like nothing he had ever seen, crawled into view.

Four stubby legs bent under the weight of a swollen body that was as round, blotched, and bloated as some gigantic rotten fruit. Vast, flat feet crushed the twigs beneath them to powder. Folds of wrinkled, green-grey flesh hung from the neck. The head was nothing but two tiny eyes set above long, wicked jaws. The jaws gaped open, showing rows of dripping black teeth and releasing gusts of foul air with every breath.

Choking back a cry of disgust and terror, Lief scrambled higher into the tree, forcing his trembling legs and arms to obey his will. One branch. Then another. And another.

A terrible growl sounded in the clearing. He looked down. Barda and Jasmine were just below him, and they, too, were looking down. The Wennbar had reached the fern bed. It was snapping its jaws together, jerking its head from side to side, growling with anger at finding its prize gone.

We are safe! thought Lief, his heart pounding. Safe! It cannot reach us up here. He closed his eyes, almost dizzy with relief.

“Lief!” shrieked Jasmine.

And Lief opened his eyes just in time to see the Wennbar rear up, its front legs clawing at the air, its pale grey belly gleaming through the dimness. The creature roared, and the folds of skin hanging from its neck disappeared as the neck swelled and grew, raising its head higher, higher …

And then it was leaping forward, hurling itself at the tree, its jaws snapping, its tiny eyes burning with rage and hunger.