The Firelands

44 - Into The Wicker Woods

24thday of the fourth Month, Joker's Moon

6:30 pm

Wicker Woods

"I don't like this place," Incendio said, looking around him at the trees. They tangled around the group and looked as if they were made of straw. Ranging in colour, they spanned from golden wheat to muggy bog-browns, twisting and coiling up into the air, spreading like branches, blotting out the sun.

"I've heard the Hands Collector lives in the Wicker Woods; do you think that's true?" Kalen asked, looking over his shoulder at the shadows, then to Zedkiel.

"The Hands Collector?" Theth said, shocked, "Surely not."

"You've heard of him?"

"Hasn't everyone?" he said, "I may not know of much of the world below, but the Hands Collector is an old story to scare children. Incendio, have you heard of him?"

"The monster who stalks in forests, chopping off travellers' hands until he finds the perfect pair to offer to the gods to free him from his curse?" Incendio said, looking at them. "That one?"

"That one."

"I thought it was just a story," he said as they all looked at Zedkiel.

"Perhaps," Zedkiel said gently.

"Why would something like that be in the Celestial Realm anyway?" Theth asked.

"You know the world is all about balance. Even where light flourishes, there will be darkness, it can never be truly blotted out," Zedkiel said, looking forwards again as his horse picked its way across a particularly cumbersome bit of ground. "Besides, not all darkness is pure evil."

"So he does exist?" Kalen asked.

"I cannot be sure, but if he does, I dare say we would be wise to not stumble onto his path," Zedkiel said, glancing over his shoulder at them when something made him pull on his reins, making his horse stop. He frowned, turning in his saddle, looking into the shadows behind Incendio.

"What is it?" Kalen said, looking back as well.

"I am not sure," Zedkiel said softly. He was quiet for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. "But I fear..."

"Kalen."

A voice out of the darkness had them jolting in surprise and out from the trees walked Dixon.

Kalen's eyes widened.

"Kalen," Dixon said, walking forwards, "I must speak with you. Kalen—"

Zedkiel grabbed Kalen's reins and pulled, sending his horse charging ahead, the others tearing after him.

"Kalen!" Dixon shouted, "Do not run from me again!"

Kalen looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening. Dixon was following them and he was gaining ground. Of course, what else would he do? He could outrun the horses; they would have to be Smithson horses to best him in speed.

"Zedkiel," he said, glancing at him. Zedkiel looked at him and the look in Kalen's eyes clearly alerted him to Kalen's plan before he even opened his mouth.

"Kalen, do not dare!" he snarled, just before Kalen unhooked his feet from his stirrups and shoved himself off his horse, hitting the ground and rolling back onto his feet, taking off into the forest in a different direction to the others.

"Kalen!" Zedkiel shouted, his voice already distant. Kalen glanced behind him and Dixon was following. Good, he was away from the others, they could escape. He would catch up with them later... he hoped.

"Kalen! Stop running! I'm not going to harm you!" Dixon shouted in his wake, "You must listen to me! Kalen, stop!"

Kalen didn't of course. He charged on ahead, jumping over roots and boulders, until finally he jumped and there wasn't any ground on the other side of the boulder. Instead there was an opening in the earth between the boulder and the roots of a huge twisted old tree that stretched high above its neighbours, the darkest of all the wicker trees Kalen had seen. Behind the boulder, the earth sloped away into a cave and Kalen hit the slope on his feet and skidded into the ground, stumbling onto his hands and knees at the last second and looking up.

Three grey tunnels stretched before him and a lamp hung at the entrance of each opening. Footsteps behind him spurred him on, sending him flying to his feet.

"Kalen!" Dixon's voice sounded from the top of the opening and Kalen raced away into the left hand tunnel, not looking over his shoulder and praying there would be another exit and no dead ends.

And that he would not lose his way.

The tunnel zigzagged back and forth, more tunnels branching off left and right. It was a maze, a labyrinth, like the goblin tunnels, but Kalen knew there weren't goblins down here. They weren't found in the Celestial Realm, but there was something down here, something that made his skin crawl and a chill seep into his fingers.

Breathing made him freeze mid-step, staring into the darkness ahead.

Slow, deep, growling breathing crept out of the darkness ahead of him. His eyes couldn't pick up any movement, whatever made the sound was not yet in sight, but he could hear it.

Then came the sound of dragging. There was definitely the sound of heavy dragging footsteps, but there was something else, something behind the steps. A sack? ... A body?

Scaring himself, Kalen shook his head, then his breathing stopped as he made out the shape of something huge in the darkness.

A great hulking form.

And suddenly hands appeared from behind him, one arm clamping around his waist, another clamping onto his mouth and he was dragged backwards into an adjoining tunnel.

"Shhh," Dixon breathed against his ear before he could start fighting. Kalen's eyes widened and then he felt Dixon's breathing stop and, like always, Kalen instantly followed his lead.

They stood in stone-still silence, listening as the footsteps drew closer.

Their company finally drew in line with their tunnel entrance and they both stared, Dixon pulling Kalen tighter back against him – like he had always done when Kalen was little and he had wanted to protect Kalen was something.

The creature before them was huge; its shoulders and head hunched over so it could fit below the tunnel ceilings. Wrapped up in muscle, its arms were so long they almost scraped the floor, and it dragged a sack.

Though they could only see the barest outline of the creature in the darkness, Kalen's sight was keen enough to see what protruded from the sack, and the sight nearly sent him clambering away, if Dixon hadn't held him still and silent.

Hands! Kalen could see the shapes of hands sticking out from the top of the sack.

It was the Hands Collector. He existed and of all places Kalen could have run, he had fallen into the Collector's maze.

The Hands Collector didn't notice them however. He trudged onwards, moving away down the tunnels until his form vanished from sight, followed by his shuffling footsteps and the dragging sack and then, finally, his breathing faded away into the shadows.

Kalen closed his eyes and let out a breath and the next second Dixon dragged him back, further into the tunnel, locking his arms around Kalen's arms and torso and heaving him off the ground to force him where he wanted him to go.