Hushwood

vii. beyond

A/N: I'm so sorry for not updating sooner! I figured I'd wait until Sunday to update so that my schedule wouldn't get too messed up, but I was so busy yesterday that I never got a chance. So here's the next chapter now, and thanks so much for reading! *hugs*

Arienne didn't understand what she'd seen, but she knew better than to let her pride endanger the both of them. She woke Tobrym, hastily recounting to him everything the sigil had told her. To her relief, he listened intently as he set the iron knife and determined their path. His serious amber-golden eyes never wavered from hers.

"That's everything I can remember," she finished.

Tobrym took a deep breath, then slowly released it. His chest rose and fell. "Then it's up to you," he said. "You were really there. Do you think we should continue? Or must we turn back?"

"Continue," replied Arienne without hesitation. "We're not leaving this forest without Bindi, I don't care what it costs."

"And we do have the knife," he said, albeit reluctantly. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"Nothing's going to happen to me," Arienne reassured him. She smiled. "We're safe as long as we don't get separated from one another. That knife is the only thing keeping us alive."

"That's another thing," said Tobrym, and Arienne's smile slid away at the sound of uneasiness in his voice. He pulled out the iron knife, turning it over in his hands. "The...the slith. It's powerful, and after having gone hungry for so many centuries you can be sure that it's determined. A thing like that—the knife won't be enough. Only the person in possession of it will be protected. But the barrier around us both...it won't even cause the slith to flinch."

In Arienne's head, the steady count of seven had already begun to run on repeat. "Right. Well, it doesn't matter. It's the best we've got." She turned and kept walking, unnerved by the conversation.

"I think you should carry the knife."
Arienne halted.

"What?"

"Just listen, Ari. I can handle myself. You, you need to find your sister."

"Absolutely not. You know as well as I do why we can't do that." She grabbed his wrist. "You aren't welcome. The forest wants you dead, Tobrym, and I won't allow that. You need to be protected."

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one willing to bend. Finally, Tobrym sighed and lowered his gaze. "All right. But stay close. You said it yourself—we need one another if we're going to make it out of this forest alive."

Arienne's eyes lingered on Tobrym's mark for a single heartbeat before she let go. The letters were a harsh, inflamed red, as if they'd been cut into his skin with thorns. They've grown worse.

The forest was telling him to leave.

"Let's keep moving. We need to keep the slith behind us." He faltered. "Preferably very far behind us."

Ari began to reply, then stopped. She looked past him, and her face went dead serious. "Tobrym," she said in a thin voice. "The knife."

He turned, already reaching for the weapon. Ari could see him blanch at the sight of the tree that'd stood not a stone's-throw from his heels. Its black blossoms burned a menacing mark into the air itself, replacing a piece of the sky with pure, violent midnight. And set into its base, gleaming like a slab of pearl, was a mirror.
It was empty.

"I swear that wasn't there before," whispered Arienne.

"Get behind me."

"Tobrym—"

A semblance of Ari stepped out from behind the tree's ashen form. The reflection grinned maliciously, her black eyes glinting in the half-light, like pools of ink. Blood dripped from her fingertips. "Arienne. We're glad you've come."

"Don't listen to it," said Tobrym, going tense with anticipation as he gripped the dagger tighter in his hands. "Block it out, Ari."

Arienne blinked, and without warning, the monster vanished. She drew back, caught off guard. "Tobrym?"

"I know." He positioned himself so that they were back to back. Ari's head spun with confusion and fear. The trees leered around them, tilting and blurring, in the way the world does when one stands up too swiftly after waking. She blinked hard, trying to focus. Her vision flickered red. Tragedy lies before you. Great tragedy.

No, Arienne told herself, digging her fingernails into her palms until they pierced the skin. The pain was sharp and clear, like a splash of cold water. She took a breath. It's not real. The creature's messing with your head, Arienne. Block it out.

But then the reflection was standing before her, its demented grin inches from her face.

Arienne cried out and leapt back, knocking Tobrym aside in her desperation to get away. He spun around, his urgent, serious brown eyes locked on the creature's face. The thing didn't even glance his way. It only cared about Ari.

Tragedy. Great tragedy.

The reflection strode towards her. Her heart shuddered in her chest like a broken butterfly, its wings trailing soft kisses across her ribs. She stumbled back, holding up her hands as if to defend herself. "Stay away from me."

"Oh, Arienne," seethed the creature, tilting its head and smiling even wider. Its eyes gleamed with hatred. "You're exactly where I want you."

In a flash, the reflection stood behind her. It caught her wrist before she could pull away. Its grip was unimaginably strong, powerful enough to shatter stone. "Dear little lost child," it whispered. Its smile never wavered. "Come with me. I'll show you the way home."

Before Arienne could even scream, the creature grasped her tightly and threw itself through the mirror's face, as if leaping through an open window. And she was dragged in with it.

The forest, in all its terrible vastness, was silent.

Tobrym stilled. He could hear nothing but his own ragged breathing. He whispered, frightened, almost not daring to speak—"Ari?"

There was no reply.

The last ripples dispersed into the mirror's surface, and its frame wept tears of liquid gold that slid slowly down the tree's black wood, pooling in iridescent circles on the ground. Beyond the portal's frame, he saw nothing. Only a dark, twisted forest full of predators' eyes, and a trail of footprints leading away into the darkness.