Hushwood

ii. the mirrors

Arienne screamed, rushing to the bedside, reaching for the air where Bindi had been. Nothing. She grabbed the blankets-empty as grave's-clothes, but still warm.

Bindi was gone.

She cried out, "No!" The world spun; this was not, could not, be happening. Tripping, she stumbled to the door and burst out into the night, fleeing from the house. Stones tore at her bare feet, but she didn't stop to mind the pain. "Bindi!"

From the utter darkness loomed the forms of cottages; the lifeless body of her village seemed to crowd around her, a mere silhouette in the moonlight. She choked back a sob as she ran, not heeding the light that had awoken in some of the windows. People emerged from their houses, their hair awry and their eyes overcast with sleep. She ignored them.

The Hushwood burned like a blue streak before her.

She kept running. They followed her, gathering in an anxious, murmuring mass, but lingering a little ways behind. They did not dare draw too near.

Arienne had reached the forest's brink when someone spoke. "Stop!" commanded the silvering elder in a shrill, powerful voice. "Do not enter the Hushwood, child."

She whirled around, her raven curls stirring the ink of night. "This has to end!" she cried.

"Arienne Lovelily. What is done is done. Step away from the trees."

They've given up. She clenched her fists, her breath coming in short bursts. "Cowards!" she shouted. "You don't even care. You're just going to sit and watch yourselves die!"

"The forest protects us," said the elder sharply.

"No. No, it doesn't. It's murdering us, one by one, and you're letting it." Her eyes burned with passion. "Don't you see? We're all cursed!"

They did not respond. Among them, Tobrym stared with round, urgent eyes. The others seemed not to have even heard her; their faces were calm and grim.

"Your sister cannot be saved," said the silvering elder in a sad, gentle voice. "But you can. Step away, dear child. This is the way of things."

This is the way of things.

Dread swirled slowly within Arienne, awakening a voice within her that she hadn't known was there. Her skin felt cold, yet her heart was fire-hot.

This was the way of things.

But what if it wasn't?

She shook her head. "Something must be done," she said, softly, helplessly. Then she turned and entered the Hushwood, and was lost to its malevolent depths.

~~~

Arienne had only walked a dozen or so paces when she looked back, but the trees went on endlessly. There was no sign of the village or the forest's edge. It doesn't intend to let me leave, she realized.

Then she winced in pain. Looking down, she saw three small lines of neatly printed letters appearing on her wrist, like scars of black ink. The script seemed to push up from beneath her skin, rising to the surface as if it'd been there all along.

Welcome to the Hushwood, dear child.

The words continued to appear, spilling partway down her arm.

Those who enter the Hushwood do not leave it. Those who try do not survive it. Reach the center as swiftly as you can, else you shall die.

There are three things you must remember in order to survive. First, destroy the mirrors. Second, never go near the Child Prisoner. And third, keep the girl in the library alive.

Three stanzas. Good luck?

Arienne read them again. The mark filled her with a sense of foreboding, for she did not understand it. Was the forest threatening her? Warning her? Helping her?

Did it want her to rescue Bindi? Or...did it want something else?

It didn't matter what the forest wanted, Arienne decided at last. She was here to save Bindi, and so she would.

She continued to walk. The moonlight, piercing the veil of lavender and sky-blue blossoms, filled the air with a hazy, dreamlike glow. It was very quiet. Arienne saw no monsters, and she could hear no songs.

She wondered how long it would take for the villagers to forget her, the same way they forgot all those whom the forest took. Then she wondered if Tobrym would forget her. He'd think he was going mad-that he was the only one who noticed how wrong everything was.

It was then that she noticed the girl who stood, staring at her, in the trees nearby.
Arienne jumped, startled, and nearly cried out in surprise. It took her only a moment to realize that there was no one there. The girl was her own reflection.

Putting a hand to her beating heart, Ari crept closer. She saw then a black-blossoming tree, its flowers as dark as coal-a deeper shadow in the royal indigo of night. Set into its trunk, as if it had grown there, was a large mirror. It was as big as an oval that Arienne could make with her arms, her fingers laced.

The mirror itself was not so disturbing, but what it held was.

Arienne's reflection stared back at her, completely alien. The girl in the mirror stood in a forest dark and menacing, and her eyes were flooded completely black. She wore a short, simple, dark red dress. Red. The color of evil. Her hands, up to the wrists, were dipped in blood, and it dripped from her fingers.

The mirror-girl smiled, displaying a black mouth and razor-sharp teeth.

Ari stumbled backwards. Her heart pounded. It's just a reflection. It's not real. The girl tilted her head, still smiling eerily. She did not follow Ari's movements, and the words on Arienne's wrist burned.

Destroy the mirrors.

"No," Ari whispered to herself. Breaking the mirror might still the rush of her heart, but it would only bring her bad luck in the future. "I can't risk it. I won't."

The fire left her hand, and she turned and continued, not looking back.

Arienne passed two more black trees that night. She didn't break any of them. And she did not see that, as soon as her back was turned, her reflections stepped out of their frames and silently followed her.