The Burning, Part 3

“Horun and his men have been snooping around here all night looking for you. By their attitude, I don’t think they mean to return you. I could keep you in my quarters upstairs, but I can’t stop guards from searching the building. Laour’s friend will lead you out of here. Talia, you are officially on vacation indefinitely or until I feel like it. Don’t show up until you hear otherwise from Jour or one of us. Laour, you can go home and rest after they leave. I expect you back at 10am tomorrow.”
Decked back in her black cloak, Talia waited about 30 minutes after they went back to the front of the shop to hear the sound of knocking against the wall. Stepping out from the back with a wrapped parcel of procuttio under her arm, she walked out and said, “Found it,” holding up the item to show to the Forest Shadow woman waiting for her. This friend of Laour, whose name she did not know, wore a purple and blue pattern gown with plant-shaped silver bands attaching it to her shoulders and ankles.
Her world fell into a haze as Laour’s female friend guided her out of the shop. On these familiar streets she now felt like an unwelcome visitor. It must have been almost 3:00am. Her hands felt clammy gripping her supposed shop purchase and the smell of blood and meat in the stores all around made her suddenly nauseous. Like a blind person afraid to get swept off in the crowd, she used her free hand to grab hand of the woman. The odd pads on her palms and the bristle of hair on her fingers reminded Talia that it was more paw than hand. The woman eyed the crowd with what seemed careless composure.
“Can we stop by the outhouses?” Talia asked, not knowing where they were going. Currently they were in a quieter side street somewhere close to the salt merchant.
“You do that?” The woman asked with genuine shock.
With a sudden waft of food, Talia rushed to a patch of weeds between the buildings and threw up.
“Black knollen tusks! Are you sick? Should I call someone?” The woman looked repulsed and lifted her sleeve to cover her face.
“No,” Talia whispered. “I’m fine. Let’s get going.”
When they finally found the upstairs floor of a craftsman home, which Talia realized was where the woman lived, she cleaned herself up, changed into something more comfortable for sleeping, and curled up in a blanket by the window. The woman had prepared water and tea for her, for which she felt immense gratitude.
Talia was smelling the fresh air from the flowers and meadow below. There had been so little quiet time lately to try piecing things together. Why did the Tree Settlers want to cultivate intelligent creatures? The Forest Shadows seemed to respect the trees, but would they protect them from outside forces? And had they met their match with the Scales? Even from what little she had seen the Scales were far more advanced in warfare technology, from their weapons to their armor and their more aggressive tactics of barging into a village and taking what they wanted almost unopposed. The Forest Shadows would not be able to hold off an earnest attack, so why hadn’t the Scales done so yet? Why were they watching in the night?
And if the Tree Settlers had played an active role in raising the Forest Shadows and Winged Fury, where did the Scales come from? The Tree Runners were mobile and fast as their name implied, but limited intellectually and lacking both culture and language. That may have been why the Tree Settlers introduced humans to teach them, but in a controlled environment and one at a time. Forest fires were probably not unheard of, and surely the Forest Shadows could have figured out someone had dammed the river upstream. Unless they had no concept of changing one’s environment so drastically. A simple damming issue could not have been the reason for waking her now, though it seemed important to the forest. Was it the increasing threat of the Scales? Was there something she needed to teach them?

She needed to learn the true motives of the Scales in coming to Kurral Forest, but with all means being akin to a suicide mission, she could start first with what the Forest Shadows knew of them. The first time she had met Horun, he had mentioned to Jour some type of deadline the Scales set for after the festival ended. As tomorrow was the last night, what should she be expecting? Perhaps the Tree Settlers could tell her more about her purpose here, but she doubted they would be more agreeable a second time. They seemed downright hostile towards her.
At any rate, she would probably not be leaving this room until the festival ended tomorrow night. Sighing, she laid back down. It was better not to fall asleep or she would struggle to regain her nocturnal sleeping schedule, but currently there was nothing capable of captivating her attention long enough to stay coherent.
The first firework began on cue, and she saw with delight an excellent view from her window of the streaming lights of fire radiating from the explosion. Two more went off, one more orange and the other red. For a first attempt, Jour’s fireworks looked expertly crafted. This was the perfect ending to an already long night, as all nights seemed too long in ending.
He spaced the fireworks out for what seemed an hour and his grand finale was five sets of three fireworks simultaneously set off. There was no applause at the end, but that was not their way. She clapped silently to herself all the same. The conclusion of the fireworks, as with all ends, should be acknowledged with a resounding fanfare.

The dream had returned was the first immediate thought Talia realized as she awoke. Tree Runners had taken her half conscious from one tree and carried her to another. And another. How many times? Was it real?
The second split-second she found the bright light of daytime – and a firm grip that picked her up and threw her out the window. She fumbled on the way out of the frame whose blinds were unfortunately raised and grabbed the ledge before losing her fight against inertia. Only it was not gravity, but other hands pulling her down. Her head smacked the ground and the pain stupefied her. Back to black.

There was no dreaming before she came to with head pounding against complete darkness. Packed dirt beneath her, hands bound to her sides with what felt like rough cord. Noise around her was obstructed. Her face was on cloth – perhaps a bag over her head? Seemed rather pointless. The gag in her mouth felt equally overdone. Her body felt bruised and exhausted.
Someone had noticed her moving, Talia realized as the air in the room seemed to shift. A foot slammed into her stomach and she folded in two. Claws tore into her neck, shoulders, and arms as her attacker gave a savage growl and scream. She could not see, could not defend, and merely pictured herself as a sack of grain as she was thrown against a stone wall. The attack stopped and she heard no more beyond her own breathing and moans of pain.

Many hours later she was unceremoniously lugged over someone’s shoulder and tossed on a wooden platform that began to move. The rocking felt like some kind of wagon being pulled. The wood beneath her was soon slick with what was probably her own blood. She smelled it through the bag. Back and forth it rolled, hitting roots and rough patches. In the moving around she could feel that, although her blades were gone, at least one of the fireworks remained in a hidden inside pocket of her trousers. After many minutes had passed the trail had grown rougher. Soon the noise of a multitude emanated from her surroundings.
The voices around began to chant and a few moments later she was taken off the cart and stood up. The person leading her removed her bag and she took in her surroundings. Torches and lights, all around and above in the trees. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the pack of Forest Shadows with very primitive-looking garments and colored bands around their foreheads watching her. They stood in a large semicircle nearby and were held back by an imaginary boundary line.
There was a booing sound being echoed among the spectators. They sat and stood high above among the branches and on boards mounted between trees. A grander procession had gathered on tiered wooden risers nearby. A few were still being seated and appeared to be carrying skewered foods. Suddenly feeling dizzy, Talia nearly fell over and leaned onto the Forest Shadow untying her arms to steady herself. As soon as she removed her gag she took a closer look at the crowd. Horun was at the front of one group, ignoring the masses shouting and booing around him and eyeing her with cold, leveled eyes. He seemed intent, though not pleased. Why was the crowd so upset?
Her arm received a firm grip from the silent Forest Shadow she had leaned on. The fellow was perfectly unmoved by the drama around him. He yawned but held his massive grip like an iron around her wrist. Nearby were other torchlights illuminating a few other Tree-Runners who were equally being held, but none of which looked bloodied or afraid. As typical, the trees showed no feelings and she felt equal parts envy of their noble appearance and shame at her own pathetic display of emotion. She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes, focusing on being calm and at peace. At least she did not want to die a coward.
A series of horns called out and the masses grew quiet.
“What’s happening?” She could not stop herself from asking. The guard glanced at her before resuming his bored posture.
“Welcome one and all to the final round of the Kurral Festival’s annual cooking competition.” Talia saw the speaker was a younger Forest Shadow with vibrant green-yellow clothes and an oversized square hat. The material looked similar to the that of Councilmember 8’s servants. Another Councilmember’s assistant perhaps? Similarly dressed individuals carried the message on to further reaches of the crowd.
“We are pleased to welcome to this year’s contest several representatives of the Beiro Valley,” shouts and fists rose from a group of blue-banded hunters on the main floor and Forest Shadows in the trees wearing mostly blue, white, and yellow. Vibrant pink, yellow, and white coral jewelry was visible even at a distance on their necks, ankles, and some tails.
“The Surei Forest,” he continued. A few less cheers and several roars came from Forest Shadows in beige-banded hunters. The group of hunters on the ground was much smaller in number and looked very seasoned by battle with numerous bald spots on their coats. They were not older physically, but their nearly dead gaze was noticeably giving her chills. Thankfully they were a bit further away from her.
“And the Paniri of the Southern Plains,” he finished. The familiar leather-clad figures of the Paniri tribe shouted and roars came from all directions. Apparently, the turnout was quite good for their tribe and moral was high. If she had to die, she’d rather have a smiling Paniri do the honors. Perhaps it would be more pleasant to some degree. Her jaw dropped at the sight of Mr. Dirt and Claws in the front row. The former gave a wink and smile in her direction.
“What?! For real!” Talia’s voice was drowned in the two dozen roars and cheers. She was a bit confused to see her friends come join in her slaughter. Mr. Dirt put a finger to his lips to indicate she should act natural. She rolled her eyes exasperated. Her composure had long since departed, and denial was being forced out too as panic moving in. She looked over at Horun. He had not taken notice of the brothers, nor of anyone else. A sick smile did find its way on his lips at her apparent discomfort. Lovely. Talia would much rather have the brothers kill her.
“…The first to kill and hold aloft the head of a Tree-Runner will move on to the second round. Other limbs or a body without a torso will not qualify you for the second round. In the case the head is broken, whomever has the largest portion of skull will be considered the victor of round one.”
She felt for the firework in her pocket. There were still two of them. Blowing up Horun would be satisfying, but it was not likely to get her out of here alive.
“The trees will be given a head start. Contestants may not pursue until the horn sounds.”
Only one option presented itself to her that held any hope of success. It was a morbid longshot, but the alternative would be worse.
Talia was surprised when her guard let go of her arm and stepped slightly away from her. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the battle about to take place over her corpse. She looked toward the other trees that were equally slow to depart, perhaps unaware of what was about to take place. Talia walked straight for the closest Tree Runner, which was presently being attacked by its guard to get it to leave the cage.

How much time would she have to pull this off? Her steps were labored and straining bruises and crusted blood. The Tree Runner noticed her approach and tilted its head in the simple gesture of curiosity, ignoring the man who had finally forced it a few steps away.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the Tree Runner, reached out her arms, and – remembering how it had looked when Mar did it in the shop – snapped its neck.
The eyes seemed to go wide with startled life leaping into them, and suddenly it was gone. Talia let the dead weight of the creature drop.

The crowd had been idling in conversation while the hunters stood at the ready, but everything grew eerily still. A girl’s voice screamed in the crowd, but at least a few among the gathered gave shouts of excitement. Still, there was a lot less cheering than Talia had hoped for.
Councilmember 8 had warned her about being in a room where people feared you. She couldn’t even think about what she had done, and would it be more likely to condemn her than to free her? She needed the crowd to be sympathetic, not afraid of her.
“This is my kill!” She shouted at the man who had been speaking before. There were two people talking to him holding his attention. “I demand to move to the next round!”

Had he not even noticed what she had done? A small group was now crowding around the announcer. The audience’s initial shock had worn off and more in the crowd started cheering for the bloodied underdog. Side conversations were growing in volume all around, but she still had not gotten the attention of the only person that mattered. Talia took the opportunity to solidify her position, borrowed the closest guard’s curved blade weapon, and in two cuts lopped off the head of the Tree Runner.
Confidence and clear intent could sway the vote, so she lofted the head in the air and took a few steps toward the announcer like a victor. Brown blood ran from the head down her arm. If they didn’t call it soon, would it be too late? Shouts and punches being thrown continued to stop the announcer from looking over her way.

Nearly deafening, a second round of horns sounded and Talia knew her gambit had failed. She continued to hold the head by its willowy hair in one hand and the curved blade in the other, but her vision was pulled in by the wave of a hundred or so Forest Shadows running on all fours. About thirty had their sights on her, though fighting among the group slowed several down. She saw Claws leap on Horun snarling and biting at his sash to pull him off balance.
The first three ran at her but faked to the sides as she swung the blade at them. The next five took to circling with a wide berth and moved to surround her. An unrelated and overeager Surei with his beige headband charged into the middle and she anchored her feet and cut one of his limbs with the blade. He shrieked and shied away with a limp.

“The kill is mine!” she shouted at the surrounding multitude, holding the head of the fallen Tree Runner once more. Several blue-banded Beiro members started laughing.
“I don’t think they recognized you,” one said.
“That isn’t the kill we’re after,” replied another behind her.
“Piss off!” Talia said.
“Talia!” Mr. Dirt shouted and pushed into the ring with two other Paniri, shoving past a group of disgruntled Kurral. He walked towards her with his hands up. She didn’t lower her blade.
“You need to get into the cage,” he said, tilting his head toward the Tree Runner cage just outside the enclosing ring.
“So the guards can finish me off?” She snarled at him.
“No! Because it’s safer!” Mr. Dirt shouted at her.
“Don’t spoil our fun, Paniri,” said a charging Beiro member who jumped Mr. Dirt.
“Screw this,” Talia said and inched toward a nearby torch. She threw the head into the crowd, which let it roll past, and pulled out her modified shotgun firework in its tube sleeve and lit the wick close to the base. The Beiro and Paniri started fighting in earnest, and a large group of Kurral started towards her. They were almost on her when heat exploded from her hands and white light blinded her. When the smoke settled, not only were the six bloody and unmoving Kurral down but an additional four around them had been knocked down.

There was a numbness around her ears muffling the general tumult all around. From above the audience was shouting. Some were excited at the display, but the Forest Shadows in Talia’s circle backed away or looked on horrified at the dead and maimed. She pulled out the other firework and aimed it at the others between her at the cage. They ran out of range, so she hurried into the metal frame and closed the door.
The lock did not engage. She looked over at the cage guard who had forced the now dead Tree Runner out and whom she had borrowed the blade from.
“Could you lock this?” she asked him. “Sorry to bother you again.”

He nervously complied while Talia backed further in, but while he was locking the cage, the figure of Horun rested a hand on his arm. The guard backed down. Horun looked up at her with new bloody claw marks on his forehead and neck. His shoulder had teeth marks in it.
Talia panicked and backed against the bars. The cage was tall but offered little room to maneuver. She pointed the firework weapon at him, and he hesitated momentarily before stepping in the cage.
“I know you need fire to use that,” he said and extended his nails in one hand. In the other he held a curved blade. She held her matching one up, but doubted she could last long, especially with an unfamiliar weapon.
“Why do you hate me so much? I never did anything to you!” Talia said trying to buy time but also sincerely curious. He was slow and thoughtful to respond.
“It is what you are doing to those around you that sickens me. You are a poison to us, even when we can’t always see it. But don’t worry, it will be over soon.”

He charged with great speed and she blocked, but he easily slid the blade down and cut her forearm before backing off. She cursed, but before he rebounded she saw something pass through the bar. A staff? Claws has passed the weapon clear across the cage between her and Horun, who hit it with his blade and pressed in until it snapped and splintered. Three more passed through from the other side from Mr. Dirt and two Paniri she didn’t know. Claws grabbed another staff and, from a safe distance, pushed his staff through the bars and tried to pry Horun out. Talia grabbed the broken staff half at her feet and stabbed at a bloody spot on Horun’s shoulder.
“Get out of the cage now, come on,” Mr. Dirt called out to him. Looking humiliated and angry, Horun left the cage and lashed out at the Paniri surrounding it. Several held their guard poles through the cage while more joined the group pursuing Horun with staffs. His blade could touch nothing in range.
One of the pole guards went to get the key and finally locked her cage, looking in and smiling at her to show his more pronounced canine teeth.
“She’s so cute! Can we keep this one?” He laughed at Talia’s befuddled expression.
“Careful,” a female Paniri said from behind him. “I think she’s feral.”
“Might want to get away from the edge of the cage,” a fatter, more socially awkward tribe member said just behind Talia’s back. She jumped and scooched to the center of the cage, but feeling a sickening surge of vertigo and meeting her physical limit while turning to look around at those surrounding her, she decided to lay on the bottom of the cage.
“Good! Don’t know what those brothers see in her. She’s real trouble, you know!”
“That was a lot of fun though! Did you see his face?” It was the canine fellow. She stopped listening for a long time until the world had grown more still.


Jour was whispering to someone nearby when she came to from her non-sleep, clammy and shaking. Many unfamiliar faces from the different tribes were watching from beyond the bars, but the remaining hunters had removed their bands from their heads. A disquieting mob of onlookers come to get a look of the anomaly. Who were the bars protecting? The telltale sound of the metal door squeaking open let her know she wasn’t alone. But she hardly felt like getting out of the cage.
“Come on,” Torin’s voice called. Talia looked over and saw the girl and Claws had entered the cage. Jour was talking nearby with a strange group in emerald silks. The two helped Talia stand and supported her on both sides to guide her out.

“Oh good, she’s not dead!” The observation came from the smaller group of Paniri who were sitting by not far away on a root ledge. “Not yet,” a female hunter replied quietly. “Think she’ll last the week?”
She was laid down on a cot. The trees above her glowed with the torchlight from below, but haunting darkness expanded past the firelight’s reach. The two of them started working quickly to clean her up and check her wounds.
“What…?” There was a wave of heat over her skin. She shook with chill. A general malaise most likely.
“Water,” she said. Claws was checking her eyes, and Torin gave her some afterwards.
“I think she’s in shock,” Claws said. A blanket soon covered her and he rubbed her arms. Talia thought she saw her dead brother over his shoulder.
“Fennec? I’m sorry… They’re going to kill me, Fennec.” Torin’s troubled face came into view, soon followed by Jour’s more concentrated one.
“Give her this hot herbal blend,” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine. This should help you feel better, Talia. Don’t worry, you did great out there. Just rest now.”


“Do you think she will be alright?” the woman in green silk asked. After hours of medical experimentation under Talia’s strange influence, Jour had stabilized her with a newly concocted potion of herbs to induce a healing deep sleep, and learned how to create an antibiotic gel for her wounds. He knew it must be similar to what she used the first day they’d met. Now he thought he understood the secret of how to control Talia’s influence. Her perceived or immediate needs were manifesting in an unexplainable way through him.
“I hope so,” Jour replied and stroked the hair off her face.
“You care a lot about this one, don’t you?”
“She’s like family. I don’t want to see her get hurt, and I know I can give her what she needs to flourish here.”
“We also want to see her reach her potential, Jour Fen. But we are both aware of the serious problem spreading from the Scales. The Surei tribe has almost been extinguished, and now the enemy is pressing into Kurral. Despite the remaining refugees we expect from Surei in the coming weeks, we may not be the safe harbor they are expecting when they arrive. I do not trust the stories of the past full of all-powerful beings, but neither of us can overlook any possible asset in this battle. We can fight, but none of us can hold up if they invade. If it comes to that, we will do our best to keep her alive and get her out.”
“Please just let her recover with us for now,” he said with his hand resting on Talia’s head.


Talia’s dreams had started fevered and disturbed but one including her long dead family was surprisingly peaceful.
She awoke back home with the Fen household, but on the ground level on the same makeshift cot. Jour’s wife was changing her bandages with a salve Talia was not familiar with. “Glad to see you awake again,” said Uellyn.
“She’s up?” called Orli’s tiny voice. “Should I get her soup?”
“Do you feel like eating?” Uellyn asked.
“Yes, please. How long have I been out?” Talia asked. She would have asked what day it was, but Forest Shadows had a vague sense of time with nights being days.
“Two days. You slept heavily. I feared Jour’s medicine nearly took you from this world.”
“I think I needed it.” Two days of nearly constant sleep. She felt the bruises, soreness, and numerous stings of gashes. But the pain was subdued, and above all she felt safe and warm near the glowing firepit.
Uellyn helped her sit up and she hissed slightly at the soreness. “I feel so old!” Talia said and chuckled.
“You just wait until every morning feels like this,” Uellyn said with a smile. “Then you will have nothing new to say about it!”
“You’re not that old,” Talia remarked with a smile. She took the soup from Orli who sat down at the foot of the cot. Her mother got up to put another log on the fire.
“No, I’m not. But my parents used to wince when they’d roll off the mat every evening. My father especially, he had numerous scars that could predict the rains. Useful for planting season.”
“Are your parents still around?” Talia asked.
“No, my mother passed away the year Orli was born, and my Father two years after.”
“How old is Orli?” Uellyn repeated Talia’s question to Orli, who replied with her hand up saying, “five.”
“Talia, do you have any family?”
“I have a twin – had a twin brother. His name was Fennec.” A small silence extended in the moment. “He was kind of my opposite, a helter-skelter optimist to my organized pessimism. But he could make you believe you were capable of anything, which is why he got us into lots of trouble. As kids I was like Orli always tagging after Maril.” Talia smiled. “Speaking of which, Orli, where’s your other half?” Talia asked.
Orli pointed in the direction of the sink, but seemed to be implying something more distant.
“Good! You’ve got built-in radar.”
I’m 32, Jour is 37, Farenfil is 28, Torin is 11 - although she’s been acting like a little adult lately. Varah is 9, Maril is 6, and Orli is 5.”
“How old are the cousins?” Talia asked.
“Zarenik and Ashiki? 27 and 24. How old are you, Talia?” Uellyn asked.
“Twenty-four I think.”
“Same as Ashiki! No wonder you two get along so well.”
“How long has it been since I moved in?”
Uellyn considered while putting the bandages and medicine away on a shelf.
“Five months I believe. You came in the middle of growing season, and the harvest moon was up last week.”
Talia could smell herself and would have asked for a bath, but with new bandages on it would be a waste. Instead she laid back down.

Her half-sleep was interrupted as Maril came in the door. She looked exhausted and lightly covered in a dark brown dust. Uellyn met her with a brush at the door and cleaned her off.
Not long after Jour, Farenfil, Torin, Varah, Mr. Dirt, and Claws came through the door. They were equally tired and not much cleaner.
“Everyone please double check and clean off as best you can before coming in. Zarenik, you have bark on your shoulder,” Uellyn pointed and he grabbed it out. “Ashiki, please thank your parents for lending us some strong arms.”
“It was no problem,” Mr. Dirt replied while dusting the powder off his tail.
“We got it all ground and packed,” Jour added.
“So tired-!” Varah sang as his mother started wiping his ears off with a cloth. “Growing up is no fun, Orli. Stay young and get me some frikin soup! Ow!” His mother had pinched his ear with a glare.
“Don’t talk to your sister that way. Respect is a two-way trail,” Uellyn said scowling at him. He mumbled an apology.
Torin was the first to notice Talia watching and broke into a laugh. She threw her shoes off and ran over to grab her arms and touch her forehead. Then she grabbed her in an uncharacteristic hug.
“You finally woke up! Are you okay?”
“Ow, ow, hugging too tight! I appreciate the hug though.”
“Sorry!”
“How are you feeling, hunter?” Claws said with a teeth-baring grin. There was a healing gash down from his ear to his forehead. Claws’ presence usually felt threatening, an irritating instinct she’d faced ever since the first time Talia met him. However, after he defended her from Horun, fear at his presence had vanished.
“Great, feeling fine,” she said and tried not to stare at his wound. Mr. Dirt came over and Talia’s first glimpse took in a tear in his left ear, the marks on his cheeks, and the bites on his arms.
“What did they do to you?” Talia asked. Mr. Dirt smiled but said nothing.
“Not as bad as what Horun could do to a blindfolded, unarmed opponent,” Claws replied and flexed his nails. “But you should see what we did back to him.” Man, these Forest Shadows were violent.

Everyone settled in to eat and lounge around on the mats around the firepit. Talia sat up on the cot and found out from the conversation that they had been at the mill on the hill.
“So what is that dark brown powder your covered in?” Talia finally asked.
“Flour,” replied Jour. Talia looked at him skeptically.
“Dark brown? What is it made from?”
“Mostly spruce, but it’s mixed with other trees,” he said.
“Ah, you can’t grow flour or other grains here, can you? It’s too shaded.”
“Yes,” jumped in Mr. Dirt, “But we grow them in the plains, so we come here afterwards to trade for forest meats, herbs, and fruit. Jackfruit, breadfruit, pineapple vinegar, these are not grown back home.”
“Wow, the inter-tribal trading is pretty expanded. I guess you would need to be as food lovers to get that variety of crop,” Talia replied.
“Yeah,” Mr. Dirt said. “The plains are no natural home for Forest Shadows, as the daytime sun can be brutal. But between the cattle and grains, the work can be lucrative.”
“Do you have winter here?” Talia asked. Everyone looked at the others curiously.
“A colder season,” she explained. “Sometimes with several feet of fluffy snow blanketing the ground.” They all stared dumbly at her. “You can pack it and make it into things, kind of like clay.” Varah started to laugh and several of the others joined him.
“Can you eat it?” Maril asked.
“Well, yeah,” Talia replied. Varah roared and fell to the ground in a merry fit.
“It’s frozen water,” she said.
“You can’t keep making these things up,” Varah said. “They’ll always believe you.”
“So it’s always hot and humid here?” Talia asked.
Jour decided to answer with, “The heat will weaken now that the harvest is done. Soon the northwest winds will come with cooler temperatures and heavy rains. The words ‘winter’ and ‘snow’ are not familiar to me.”
Talia had seen snow several times a year where she grew up, and even more when her family traveled to the mountains for skiing and sledding. The climate of her home was a far cry from the current one, though that she could have walked to such a drastically different climate zone seemed outrageous.

For a long time they talked about Torin’s great success at the tournament and Varah’s performance, which included a flag for inappropriate behavior. Apparently he took on creative license to make new attack positions which interrupted and distracted several other performers for his group. Jour had been excited that the firework demonstration went well and how he had been approved to a new room for his experiments and invited to a meal with some local names of prominence, which included several councilmembers. Torin was taken with some beautiful Winged Fury musical and dance performances and tried to reproduce some of the moves which Maril and Orli joined in on. Farenfil as usual did not say much. He had been working with the guards near some of the city’s silos and food storage warehouses. Far less enthralling than a border guard position, but more highly regarded.
Zarenik and Ashiki – otherwise known as Claws and Mr. Dirt – had spent half the time watching the previously mentioned performances, but Zarenik had spent additional time in the local saloons meeting Forest Shadows and Winged Fury travelers from far away. When he wasn’t with his brother, Ashiki performed his storytelling in the streets and to the saloon patrons while meeting with and exchanging tales with others of his profession. The biggest name storytellers would perform in the auditoriums, but the spaces sold out quickly and ear-bleed seats were not worth the wait. Ashiki had paid out numerous shells to get into one performance, which he imitated in a mock performance for the family.
Talia shared about her unusual meeting with Detsu Que and her embarrassing cooking performance for Councilmember 8 and his company. The Fen household seemed nervous for her at first but expressed that they were generally impressed despite Talia’s embarrassment. Torin said the food must have been quite novel and that Talia should prepare it for them sometime. Jour and Uellyn exchanged a silent glance but said nothing.
“Where did you go after you left Councilmember 8’s residence?” Jour asked.
“Detsu Que took me back to Mar’s shop,” Talia replied. “I waited a while and left the shop in disguise with Laour’s friend. I don’t know where she led me, her house I assume but it was still in Old Town around the food market. I was hiding on the second floor and saw your fireworks from the window-”
“So she’s the one who ratted you out to the guards?” Torin said vehemently.
“I don’t know,” Talia said with hands up in a disarming gesture.
“Horun never said where his lead came from,” Farenfil added. “He never even admitted to capturing you.”
“Then how do you know it was him?” Talia asked.
“That was our handiwork,” Zarenik said, pointing to himself and an unusually quiet Ashiki. “We got him to talk.”
Jour looked up from his hands and began to speak. “Part of my hope with the fireworks was to impress the higher ups into granting you protection as a valuable ‘partner’, as it were, for my research. I hoped to keep you hidden long enough for that to be verified. There was a verbal, if not written, approval drafted that night, but by then you had gone missing. Laour took the heat since it was his contact whose hiding place proved unsuitable. I knew if you weren’t already dead that he would unveil you at the games, so we prepared for that possibility.”
“And that’s why we joined the games,” Ashiki finally said. “A good second-option to reach you.”
“You thought we wanted to eat you, didn’t you?” Zarenik said and laughed as the color drained from her face.
“I actually preferred it to Horun doing the job,” Talia said with a sardonic smile. Zarenik smiled too but Mr. Dirt’s face turned sober.
Jour continued, “I had spoken to the announcer ahead of time, but then a different person substituted him at the event. When I tried to approach, I had difficulty with the crowds who had been gathering for hours and more trouble with the guards,” he said bitterly. Talia looked at Farenfil but saw no emotion cross his face. Was it not awkward to be so opposed to the position when his own brother was a guard?
“The announcer may have been paid off to ignore me, or simply the energy of the crowd made it hard for him to accept a verbal commission versus a written one. It was light fighting a boulder, and then I got more heated when they carted you in at the last minute.”
“Why were they booing me?” Talia asked.
“You? No, they were upset that someone had hurt you before the games. It diminishes the honor of killing you – very unsportsmanlike. At any rate, the crowd jumped into our arguments with guards trying to hold me and even Uellyn back. None of us saw what you did to the Tree Runner, but I heard Torin scream and then the crowd started surging. We barely made it back to Torin before the horn sounded.”
“Why didn’t they recognize my kill?” Talia asked. “I could have been a contestant.”
“You’re a tree,” Zarenik stated flatly. “If Winged Fury aren’t allowed into the challenge, there’s no way they’d accept a sub-species entry.”
“I’m not a bloody tree!” Talia said exasperated.
“You were more of a target after the kill,” Mr. Dirt said to Talia. “We might have had an easier time if you had stayed quiet and docile.”
“Like a tree?” she snapped.
“Talia,” Jour said sternly. “I’ve told you before, many packs would leap at the opportunity to eat what, they assume is, a talking Tree-Runner. Perhaps they would gain some great strength or ability, and the fame associated with the kill. You literally welcomed every hunter to come and try some!” He took a breath and looked taken aback at his own outburst. Uellyn and Farenfil looked at him with growing concern.
There was an awkward silence.
“I’m sorry for causing you trouble,” Talia said quietly. Jour turned and walked out the door of the house.

*******************
Later that evening as dawn was quickly approaching, everyone was starting to return for their last meal before bedtime. Talia took a short walk around Merton Village with Torin, Claws, and Mr. Dirt. Maril was lugging buckets from the town well while Orli was following nearby with a half-spilled bucket and distractedly playing with a stick. Varah ran past with a group of neighborhood boys. The older adults sat around the dining table socializing and waiting for their meals while attending their fires and cooking pots.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you never mentioned me in your escapades the other night,” Mr. Dirt said. Talia had not quite forgotten that part, but did not know how much she should share of her unsettling vision from the Tree Settlers.
“Yeah,” Talia said.
“I spent the night in the confinements cell,” he replied. “And I didn’t rat on you when they started asking questions. You owe me for that,” he said and very gently punched her shoulder.
“I sort of got an assignment from the trees…” she said.
“I knew it!” Torin perked up.
“…to break out the Tree-Runners from prison and blow up a dam,” Talia finished.
“Flarrel,” Claws chimed in. “People in the bars were pretty upset about the Tree-Runners.” The others seemed equally uncomfortable.
“And the dam?” Mr. Dirt asked.
“A block upstream flooded the forest and dried up your river. It was pretty well-constructed, but a single stick of the firework did wonders.”
“Do you think the Scales built it?” Mr. Dirt asked.
“Who else?” Torin replied. “They were setting fires all over the other night. I understand the Tree-Runners were trying to help, Talia, but you realize they were locked up for their own protection. We needed them for planting time.”
“Plus the hunts!” Claws put in. Torin glared at him. “Less contestants in the competition with less trees,” he said with a shrug.
“The Tree Settlers need them too,” Talia put in.
“They can grow more, but we can’t,” retorted Torin. “The Tree-Settlers may be a little short-sighted when it comes to our needs, like not starving.” Mr. Dirt gawked at her. Even Claws looked taken aback and let out a whistle.
“Careful, cousin,” Claws said.
“It’s true! They didn’t care much about helping Talia out either, it seems,” she added.
“Alright, it’s behind us now,” Talia said. She neglected the point that the Tree-Settlers might have wanted her dead. And perhaps for a good reason, as she heard improvised rockets going off. Jour and his team were working hard at reconstructing her earlier model and having shooting practice. The cat was out of the bag, or the gunpowder at any rate. The Scales had been sighted less at the boundaries shortly after Jour had begun mass producing her weapon, but they hadn’t left yet.
“Have you heard of a place called the Skeleton Forest?” Talia asked. “I think it’s on the other side of the Folded Mountains.”
“No,” Torin said.
Mr. Dirt simultaneously replied, “Yes, actually. It’s north of the Paniri Tribe.” Torin looked at him skeptically. “We tell a lot of horror stories about creatures that come of there. None of them true of course, nothing ever makes it out.”
“What caused it?” Talia asked.
“We don’t know,” Mr. Dirt continued. “It has always been that way as far as I know.”


After dinner they hit the bathing pools where Talia, with delicate care, tried to wash her hair and body without reopening her wounds. Her lavender shampoo bar from home was sadly running low, but she enjoyed the rare scent in this foreign environment. Sitting alongside the others in the short river falls, Talia felt more at ease around the communal bathing structure despite strange glances from the cousins. She claimed a stone seat at the edge of the river to soak her feet and trim her nails. The whole family had joined, but Orli soon fell asleep with her legs and tail dangling in the water. Uellyn carried her and led Varah and Maril back to the house.
After Uellyn left, Talia almost saw a somber mood roll over the others with the early light above. It was strange, the beauty of daylight and the sorrow after such a wonderful evening.
“It’s time for you to go,” Jour said out of the blue. Talia thought he was talking with the cousins, but when she looked over his eyes were locked on hers.
“The Kur family has laid claim on you,” Jour added.
“That is the family in the mansion in town, right?” Talia asked. “What does that mean?”
Jour looked down to a swirl in the pooled water in front of him.
“They claimed her?” Farenfil asked in surprise. Torin and the cousins seemed to already know.
“It means they own you,” Jour clarified. “Anyone can benefit from trees, but the Kur family alone can claim sole ownership over any public property or item in Kurral Forest if they so choose. Their ancestors were responsible for settling the land and making the order our society maintains. Their orders are supposed to maintain that peace and society.”
“So am I moving in with them?” Talia asked.
“I don’t know these people, Talia. I can’t tell how safe you will be with them.”
“Will they try to eat me?”
“I don’t know,” Jour replied.
“You can’t give me to someone you don’t know if you can trust not to eat me!”
He shook his head. “The Kur family might give you a good home. I don’t know why they’re interested in having you, and I don’t imagine we’ll ever see you again if we give you to them. That is why I will try to make good on my earlier promise to get you out of the Kurral Forest.”

“What? No!” she cut him off. “This is my home!” Talia yelled. “You are my family! Why can’t they just let me stay? There’s nothing else out there for me.” She fell silent and gripped her head in her hands. “I’m going to lose it all again.”
Outside the Kurral Forest. She had not dared to venture somewhere new in a long time, let alone allowed her imagination to leave the oddly cozy meat market, the familiar Merton Village where she resided with the Fen family, and even the recently discovered Kurral City. Her world was entirely nestled beneath the mountains. Just like the last time she saw her brother and parents laughing at some forgotten joke in the kitchen, and then they stepped out and they were gone.

“‘What else is there?’” Jour repeated. “How can you ask that? The forest didn’t bring you here just to blend in and become another Forest Shadow. It was never your place to try and become one of us.”
“Then why did you ask me to stay? To study and get a job?” Talia retorted.
“That was my mistake,” Jour said. “You were never a killer, Talia, but we did this to you. I thought you would change us, but we changed you, made you more violent. The decision is yours. I’ve taught you what I know about the dangers and food sources in the wild. But you will have to go now if you choose to leave. The Kur family will likely hear of your recovery and will be coming for you soon.”
The path before her was no longer obstructed. The comforts were gone, the cold calculations were returning. “I think I need to go,” Talia said and shut out the emotional longing for home.
“Do you know which way?” Jour asked. Above them, the perfect evening had ended with a glorious pink and orange glow in the cruelest mocking sunrise.
“I need to investigate the Skeleton Forest,” Tala said. The others gawked at her.
“Are you serious?” Mr. Dirt asked. “That’s suicide!”
“You’ll die instantly,” Farenfil nodded in agreeance.
Jour seemed at a loss for words. His plan to get her from danger had rebounded with a worse fate.
“I suspect there’s more to it,” Talia added. “I can handle this.” She explained the vision the Tree Setters had shown to her and could even now felt a directional awareness to where she needed to go. The Skeleton Forest would be a dismal place to journey to alone, but it was unlikely anyone could join her past the border.
She could do it alone, as she always had. But she did not want to be alone again.

**************************
From the home in the late morning sun, the hooded group set off. Claws wore Talia’s heavy backpack while Mr. Dirt hauled a cart of dried forest fruits and cured meats. Talia wore her returned black cloak and hidden blades while carrying a small parting gift of sweets from Mar – which were dropped off with the returned items – and breads from Uellyn. As they started out of the village amid the quieting daytime and pre-noon birdcalls, Torin ran up from behind. She explained she had gained permission from her parents to travel to Paniri Tribe for a short-term apprenticeship. Talia smiled at her presence and gave her a side hug.
“Glad to have you with us,” Talia said.
“And away we go!” Mr. Dirt cried with a clawed fist pump into the air.
“Could you draw a little less attention, please?” Torin said pulling her pale green hood up against the early light. “I will feel better once we leave the city.”
“A quiet Paniri? That would draw even more suspicious eyes!” Mr. Dirt said. Despite his statement, the group fell quiet as they made their way down the road through the Old Town marketplace. The evening’s excitement had calmed significantly down. It felt strange for Talia to see the shops and streets with the late morning light and not to be heading down to the meat market.
“Ah, I forgot to ask Jour about a map!” Talia said in irritation. “How will I know where I am?”
“Can’t you ask a tree?” Claws suggested. He had thrown his cloak over the backpack to hide its obvious foreignness. He now looked to be a beast of monstrous proportions.
“Don’t say it,” Torin said grabbing Talia’s arm. Connecting into to the underground map was another talent she lacked, though normal Tree Runners could be seen communing with regular trees and shrubs and never seemed to lose their way. Even Forest Shadows could see this map to a degree, though only with Tree Settlers and through heavily forested areas.
When they crossed a bridge with plans to avoid the main part of town, Talia saw a large amphitheater with sparce tree coverage off to her left. Here the Winged Fury had danced over the evening sunset just days before. What looked so enticing before was now empty and quiet as a historic ruin except for the songbirds and a lone rabbit bounding on the far edge.
The public confinement area was heavily guarded for some reason so Claws guided them through the Theater District, across another bridge, and left along a lodging and restaurant district. A door ahead of them opened and out stumbled one of the late evening drunkards.
“Someone had a long morning,” Mr. Dirt said with a queer double-flick of his tail. Talia had associated the gesture with clicking your tongue at someone who misbehaved. Being something of a gentleman, he held out his paw to help the person up from the dirt.
“Ashiki,” Torin hissed and waved at him to leave the stranger. She had leather bands on her wrists, but when Chaaya looked up Talia recognized her immediately. Thankfully with her hood drawn, Chaaya did not seem to notice her, or anyone besides Mr. Dirt.
“Are you okay to get home?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said coolly. She started swaying while her tail flailed in search of balance. Talia had never seen a drunk Forest Shadow before and couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene. Chaaya looked over at her with a squint, which changed to a threatening grin.
“Ho, ella! So this must be the Ashton clan!” Chaaya laughed, but the others grew silent. “The butcher didn’t grind you up, yet? Still a chance for me, then.” Even Mr. Dirt backed away from her and started walking toward the others. Chaaya’s laughter and forced smile and had fallen away. The humor had never reached her eyes.
“Come on, let’s go,” Torin said to Talia and put an arm over her shoulder to guide her away. Talia did not know what had happened to Chaaya since they last met, but she looked terrible. Jour had mentioned that her entire clan had died in some accident and that Chaaya had never recovered emotionally. Looking back over her shoulder, she felt an overwhelming sympathy for the lonely Forest Shadow.
“One second,” Talia said and hurried back to Chaaya with one hand on her goods and the other holding her hood down.
“What are you doing?” she heard Claws snap.
Chaaya stood with an arms crossed and tail flicking.
“Come to turn yourself in?” Chaaya asked. Talia instead pulled out one of the sweets from Mar, still wrapped in its protective green leaf, and proffered it to her. Stupefied, Chaaya opened her hand and Talia placed it in her palm.
Without a word, Talia ran back to the group and left the stumped Forest Shadow swaying alone in the road.

*******************
Lucien’s wings wanted to fall off on their flight back to the Winged Fury city of Adialle. It was a welcoming sight to see others flying about the towering red wood city in the Folded Mountains. He was drenched from the clouds coming in over the rock-faced mountain peaks. Lucien and Iniko had felt the temperature drop as they came in over the rock-faced mountain peaks, but thankfully they had landed in their cliff face hovel before the strong northwest winds began to blow. From this vantage he could see a few unlucky stragglers being knocked around the sky and coming down quickly.
The air was colder up here but he hardly noticed the moisture or temperature, taking just a moment to shake off lose water before settling down. The tree tops began swaying wildly below the hazy gray sky. Rains would soon come. Lucien had made a good bit of money from his dealings with the Forest Shadow Detsu Que. However, Iniko seemed to have made greater gains, with pockets swelling with money.
“I’m heading out, don’t wait up for dinner,” Iniko said and jumped off the cliff.
“Right, fine,” Lucien muttered after he left. Lucien knew where his brother had gone, to pay out to his spice dealer to split the profits and prove he hadn’t made off with the goods.
Lucien pulled out some of the jerky, fruit, and cheeses he had purchased in Kurral. Large dishes were too much weight to carry, but we wish he had some spiced eggplant with Tree Runner roll ups right now. Swinging his legs off the ledge, Lucien absentmindedly kicked to a rhythm he could feel through the rock. One of their neighbors was playing the drums again.
After a time, he flung himself off the ledge and started free falling a few feet from the drop. Wings out, he pulled away from the cliff and headed towards an outcropping near the tree tops. Many Winged Fury in long fine silks were bartering, chatting, or sitting around the ledge calling after their children who were flying around a treetop.
“There is hardly time to get that handled,” one man in a dress suit said while shoving papers at his business partner. “Just have them hire out before the move-in date!”
“And then the princess realized something had become lodged between her feathers,” a visiting Forest Shadow storyteller woman said, grabbing at her imaginary feathers to a group of enthralled children and mothers. “It was the tiniest golden fly she had ever seen! ‘I will help you if you spare me,’ it cried.”
Lucien side-stepped as a slimy kamari fruit with cheese and nut toppings almost hit his face. The absentminded man continued talking with someone and remained completely oblivious to the close proximity of Lucien’s face. In retrospect, he should have taken a large bite of it. The next time he would.
Numerous caves were scattered above and below along the sheer rockface. This one was so tall that trees and shrubs had begun growing inside and the natural light entered far. Harps accompanied by voices played nearby for the pleasure of a wedding party. The smell of street vendors and their more delicate fare was a pleasant change from the spicy and bold flavors of the Forest Shadow food. How could they overdue the musical subtly of foods with so much meat and spicy sauce?
“Welcome to the Crystal Harpy’s Bank,” a purple-gowned attendant said with a slight bow that Lucien reciprocated.
“I’d like to make a deposit into-”
“Name?” She said, cutting him off.
“Lucien O’Faierlow,” he replied.
She looked through a listing of names to locate his banking file. Lucien watched her expression for any belittling or judgmental changes upon noticing his neglected and impoverished account. Behind those eyes she must be spinning dark assumptions to explain what person left only one shell in his whole account.
“I’d like to make a deposit,” he said and offered her the bag Detsu Que had given him.
“How much of this would you like to deposit?”
“All but 2 gold coins and 3 silver.”
His deposit was easily a month’s wages for an honest merchant. The dishonest merchant would probably make twice that. She vanished down a hole with the rest of his money. How symbolically like his life, watching it fall away. Did others think the same at this bank? She returned after depositing the money into his vault and returned his remaining cash.
“Is there anything else I can help you with today?”
“No, thanks,” he said and turned to leave.
Lucien noticed two men approach as he started walking back toward the entrance. They fell into step with him but not before his eyes caught the glint of single silver pearl on one of their wrists. La Pi Volez. Flarrel, was that who Iniko was working with?
“Care for a short trip to the Bell Hole Tavern, Lucien?” ‘Fali! Fali!’ he cried in alarm in his head. La Pi Volez was not a group you wanted to offend if you planned to live in Adialle. Mostly he knew of them for their infamy, but not much of what they actually did. Even with his willful ignorance, he’d heard rumors there they worked with Les Vautours, a criminal organization within the Scales community to the east.
What a mess.
“We just want to talk,” one said and their wings covered his shoulder, herding him along to the rope bridges.
“S-s-sure,” he stuttered. Neither laughed at his nervous habit. At least they let him retain what remained of his dignity that hadn’t fallen down a hole. Besides, it was probably his brother they were after.
The heavy rains came crashing down as they crossed the bridges from tree to tree. Conversation ceased entirely as the bridges swayed slightly in the breeze. They had been reinforced to withstand the strongest winds, but falling debris was another matter.
They descended stairways winding around a medium size tree, crossed a covered bridge, and wound down more stairs into the more sheltered buildings which were built out of and morphed into the trees. They passed some legal offices, a city maintenance building, and some expensive furniture and clothing stores. The homes were mostly near the ground or cliffs where water sources were more dependable than the wooden shoot system.
Further down they passed until the ground was close at hand and the boardwalk was hardly touched by rain at all. Orb-shaped lanterns were lit outside several restaurants and taverns in the vicinity, with stairs reaching down to the ground for the lowest restaurants. The two men led Lucien into one of the few restaurants on the ground, an old wooden establishment that seemed decades older than the more popular resorts.
As Lucien entered after one of the men through the swinging door, he heard the sound of a harp broken by the clank of mugs and the familiar laughter of his brother. The main room had broken into multiple paths and booths from the grid-shaped walkway. He was led straight and to the left, then into a large private room behind a curtain door.
Iniko was in a group of mostly young and a few middle-aged gentlemen, with the most noticeable members further down the table smiling but not caught up in the same banter or laughter. One older Winged Fury, black-dyed feather tips along his head, eyed Lucien briefly over his drink as he entered.
“Oh, Katel, Demuret, back so soon?” the slim-faced man to the left of the black-feathered gentleman said, fluttering a hand absentmindedly. “Whose your friend?” Iniko spat up in his mug when he saw Lucien, causing the fellows around him to laugh and push him away. Lucien was shoved into a seat on the bench between two strangers.
“Caught this guy with a big score,” one of Lucien’s escorts said. “Pretty sure it’s your new kid’s brother.”
“Oh, really?” All the laughter had dried up in an awkward hesitation.
“It’s not what you think,” Iniko said with the return of his smile and calm demeanor. “He got it…”
“Why don’t we ask him where the money came from?” the slick man asked and several sets of eyes shot to Lucien.
“Itss frromm-m-m cou-cc” Lucien stammered and shut his eyes. “Cccouncil M-mmember 8.” A husky voice started laughing. Opening his eyes, Lucien saw it was the black-feathered man.
“What in korek are you doing with a Forest Shadow Council Member, young wing?”
“Fff-ff,” Lucien hung his head as laughter broke out again.
“Come on. He’s not good with-”
“Don’t cut the young wing off,” slick said cutting off Iniko. “Let the lad speak.”
“Ffff-inding a tt-ttree h-h-he lll-llllost.” The black-feathered man stroked his plume back over his head.
“Must have been some kind of tree. Relax, Katel, get him something to drink.”
Lucien painstakingly stammered and stuttered his way through his encounter with Detsu Que and the tree-that-wasn’t-a-tree. He shared that it could talk, had broken through a cell lock, and blew up a dam. He speculated it had been the same one that caused a scene the last night of the festival, though he hadn’t been there in person. Lucien never explained that the money was hush money – better not to tell a crime lord you were a rat under pressure.
“Iniko, I like your brother,” said the black-feathered man. “What’s his name?”
“Lucien,” Iniko said with a hollow voice.
“We’ll need to keep him around.”
A nervous cluck escaped Lucien and he looked down at the untouched mug in front of him. Later as the meal began around the table with food being shared and moods relaxed, a single pearl on a metal band was placed in front of him. They would never get out of La Pi Volez.

********************
Some good while after they had departed the small port – if one could call it more than a glorified dock – Talia felt a cool breeze and breathed it in with relief. They had been rowing the long boat for hours in the oppressive humid sun and against the current. The others kept on their robes on with hoods drawn as protection from the sun, but Talia had stripped down to her blue linen two-piece work uniform. An old blue-and-white baseball cap from her previous life adorned her head with pleasant shade and a dysfunctional fashion anachronism.
As the wind picked up, the others looking faint lifted the sail for the additional boost and took an overdue break. Dark clouds ominous on the horizon dragged across the sun and plunged them all into shadow.
Thunder rumbled and Mr. Dirt moaned.
“Looks like a big storm is brewing,” Talia said. “Should we be landing soon?”
“Zarenik, how far until we stop?” Talia asked.
“There’s a landing just up ahead,” he replied, “so we’ll tie it off and go on foot. I think we can make it to the Skeleton Forest in a few hours, and then we can set up camp. If the storm is bad, we may have to shelter before then.”
“You must be exhausted,” Talia commented. “Isn’t it difficult for you to stay awake this long?”
“Would you rather stay put and see how long it takes for them to track you?” Claws asked. Talia shut up quickly.
“We have done this before in the day,” Mr. Dirt added with a smile, but even that was drooping.
An older Forest Shadow was at the dock when they tied off and Claws paid him off for the boat’s return.
“It’s our boat,” he explained to Talia when she asked if it was a rental. “We pay him to keep it for when we need it. He also rents it when we do not need it. Risks damage, but it pays for its own lodging.”
Thunder crackled above as they started back into the forest and under the shade of pines and cedar. They could hear the rain wall pelting the trees above, but down below it continued to be dry. The few homes near the river’s edge housed families huddled indoors around a fire or hovering in their doorways watching the strangers pass in the even stranger lighting. It was very dark without the night torches and except for an unusual yellow glow breaking in through the southeast.
Talia wanted to stop before they and all their belongings got wet. Soon the rain started to fall down through the trees, and Claws and Mr. Dirt led them to an overhang to the right of the trail. Beneath the upward slope of shelter, they all ate briefly and fairly quietly, then rested as the tempest around them roared.
“Talia, how are you doing?” Torin asked. Talia had been looking out over the swaying branches and ferns.
“A bit overwhelmed,” she said.
Torin moved over to sit closer. “Want to talk about it? We’re here for you if you need it.”
“For how much longer? You can’t go into the forest with me.”
“How are you planning to do that, by the way?” Mr. Dirt was laying on the other side of a log from them but sat up to ask.
“If it’s only an air-quality issue, I’ll be fine with my gas mask,” she said. “Outside observation may also lend enough clues to avoid going into it.” She and Torin got quiet and stared at him expectantly.
“Okay, I can take a hint,” he said and went back to reclining. Talia could see his ears continue to twitch.
“Torin, I don’t think the previous humans lived very long. They died… in very bad ways.”
“How do you know?”
“The Tree-Settlers showed me early Forest Shadows, back before they wore clothes or stood upright, learning from a human, then disemboweling him. Then another, and another. Hundreds. They all died. Winged Fury used to look smaller and more misshapen. The people they kill were terrified and many died horrible deaths by their talons and beaks, falling from the sky and hitting the branches on the way, screaming until their bodies broke or splattered.”
“Sun-scorned, that’s disgusting!” Torin replied with a grimace.
“Then being thrown out that window, dragged off like an animal,” Talia continued. “Horun made me into a beast. I almost attacked Mr. Dirt. I killed Forest Shadows! I felt like I had become a monster, and I wanted to blow up more. In that cage, it was Horun and me, two senseless monsters after blood. Jour is right, I have been trying to be something I am not. I was food, wasn’t I?” She started to shake and her voice quivered. “I was never meant to have friends or family. The Tree-Settlers just wanted to torment me and drag me through hell until someone ate me. They want me dead.”
“It’s different this time, though, from the visions they showed you,” Torin said. “You are still alive, and they showed you something else, right? Something to do with the Skeleton Forest?”
“Yeah, there’s something there that has the Tree-Settlers concerned. The land is cut off somehow, it felt black in the vision, like roots running into a wall of death. I don’t think they or the Tree-Runners have been able to investigate,” Talia said, regaining her composure.
“The land has been dead for a long time, so what changed to worry them now?” Torin asked.
“Not sure,” Talia said and shook her head. The winds outside were weakening to a more peaceful downward rain.
“I have a guess,” Mr. Dirt chimed in again, “as to why the Tree-Settlers may have showed you the deaths.” The two women looked over at him.
“They wanted you to stop being a Forest Shadow and get moving,” he said with an uncertain shrug. “How long have you been awake? Quite a while now. And how eager were you to leave the Fen household? Not very, it seems.”
“Normal people don’t send death threats,” Talia shouted at him, “They just ask!”
“How often did you seek the Tree-Runners out?” He asked.
“Never,” she said simply.
“And the Tree-Settlers?”
“Once,” she said. “I did yell at and attack it,” she admitted with a slight twitch at the corner of her lip.
“But dad said they mentioned you don’t have the heart to destroy, but to heal and protect,” Torin said.
“And look how well that went!” Talia shot back at her. “Sorry.”
“You taught the Kurral Forest Shadows how to protect themselves from Scales,” Torin continued. “They have all but left the area since our border patrols started carrying those weapons based on what you made in the games. I heard there were talks about incorporating new laws of protection for Tree-Runners since then, which would ban the eating of them because of the contributions you made. They haven’t been finalized yet, though, and there’s a lot of pushback. Protection may be limited to Tree-Speakers, as they started calling you.
“And that healing cream and sleeping medicine my dad created treating you with, they started using it on those who had been hurt in the games and border skirmishes. So far it is working amazingly! Between that and the mending practices we used on you when you were out, it is changing what we understand about medical care.”
Talia smiled at the news and looked down at the pine needles on the ground.
“Glad something good came of it. Those things all seemed so unpredictable though. How could the trees know it would happen?”
“They’re pretty smart,” Mr. Dirt said with a stupid grin.
“You know the Tree-Settlers are raising the Forest Shadows, not the other way around, right?” Talia asked him. He looked perplexed.
“Well that’s a new way to look at it!”
“The Forest Shadows needed your help to remember healing and protection comes through the trees, as we were fighting and losing for a long time. What happened to the Surei Forest Tribe won’t happen to the Kurral Forest Tribe now. I’m guessing whatever is in the Skeleton Forest,” Torin said, “probably has to do with healing and protecting, but I’m not sure who. The ground is dead there, so the obvious thought is it somehow will spread.”
“Torin,” Mr. Dirt interjected. “You are way beyond your years in reasoning! Girls your age must be jealous. Come find a nice man in the Paniri Tribe! I bet your children could drink and lecture a Winged Fury under the table!”
She puffed up the hair around her face and Talia laughed. That was her way to express she was embarrassed.
“You are pretty smart, Torin,” Talia said. “Feels like you’re older than your years, but maybe I can take some credit for that.” The others looked at her confused. “People around me like you and Jour seem to fill in the gap for everything that I need. Be it explosives, or a sound head on your shoulders that Mr. Dirt takes such great care harassing.”
“That I do,” Mr. Dirt said and patted Torin’s head. Torin glared at him with a good-natured glare, Talia thought with a wry smile.

********************
After the meal, Lucien walked to the sound of the rain and branches beating in the wind. The path was still fairly dry on the forest floor. Winged Fury would be capturing rainwater in the canopy high above for their flower gardens and personal use, but it was just beginning to reach the ground now. He needed to see a friendly face and so he headed toward the funeral home caverns.
Just in front of the mountain’s caverns, a cheerful five-tiered pagoda with flowers and an outdoor spring greeted him. Most of the tiers had been closed by raised wooden walls to keep out the rain, but some bars let light shine out like a beacon in the dark undergrowth. He sang his arrival briefly at the entrance. This was the home of the young mortician couple, Pietra and Buriken Ma-Salorte.
Pietra sang from the other side her high and melodic voice. Lucien immediately cut off, self-conscious of his comparatively poor-quality tone.
“Lucien’s back!” She slid the door sideways into its hole and he was greeted with the sight of her in her working clothes. The silver robe draped but was gathered in pleats and marked by dull spots of grey. It reflected the ageless act of death as compared to an immovable mountain one must fly above. Behind her, he spotted her husband, Buriken, with someone’s heart in one hand and a scalpel in the other. The amber blood on his hands had splattered onto his robe, but tradition forbade him to wear an apron. Be not ashamed of the passing and do not separate yourself from it, they said. The stains that did not wash out would turn grey in time. Somehow, Pietra had avoided the messy work today.
“How was your trip to Kurral?” Buriken waved the heart in Lucien’s direction. “You look like you could use some flying ants.”
Lucien laughed.
“That’s a strange suggestion,” Pietra said with a shuffle of her wings. “Mostly because I’ve never seen flying ants in this house.”
“Oh please, no,” Lucien said.
“I’m a little cooped up here at the moment, but please, grab a comfortable perch, perhaps that one above your head,” and with his head indicated at the tiers of branches going up above.
Lucien, feeling an impatience with being still, started swinging upside down from one perch, then hopped to another. Pietra flew up to mimic him on opposite sides of the branches, accidentally dropping a feather which slowly drifted onto the corpse her husband was taking apart.
“Lovely touch,” he said.
“Oh, that’s embarrassing! Speaking of which,” Pietra said and flew off to another part of the house. Lucien smelled the tell-tale scent of sweet buns and burning and realized she had been baking when he arrived. And in her working clothes. That did not seem quite sanitary, but they did not think quite like others did. Lucien enjoyed their company all the more for it.
They all took a short break to enjoy the slightly burnt buns higher up in the pagoda. From the now opened room they looked out towards the tree flower garden blooming both above the ground and along the mossy forest floor. The rain fell in a gentler drizzle.

Lucien’s mother had died from an infection long before his memory of her had formed, and he had only been a child of 10 when his father was killed in an encounter with Scales. At the time, his brother left school to pick up odd jobs to support both of them. He had been a genius at school, but somehow those odd jobs slowly delved into the criminal world. Lucien fell into silent solemnity for a time after his father died, mostly useless and largely disregarding much beyond sitting in the Debater’s Plaza to scrape up what answers he could for his unvocalized confusion and listening to the singer birds at sunset. He also spent time around the high stone funeral pyre where his father had risen to the sky in the form of smoke.
He watched other funerals take place there, half of the time with the old gentleman who had proceeded over his father’s passing. The man was friendly to him, sometimes giving him food or sweets. Soon after a young bonded pair had shown up and was following the old gentleman around. They were close to Lucien’s age, but he was too shy to speak with them. The day the old gentleman passed, it was the bonded pair who sent his corpse up flying into the peaceful beyond.
From that day on, he started to open up to the two and found they were equally different as he, set apart in a profession never sought despite the beauty of change. The Ma-Salorte pair had trained after her grandfather’s tradition and carried an elegance and life into every procession and ceremony. They enjoyed their profession and lived with a welcoming and warm heart.
They were two of his best friends. He was at ease to fill them in on everything that had occurred between the confusing time-difference in Kurral Forest and typical tourist events of eating foods too spicy and too rich for their tastes, to the not-a-tree he followed and the payout. He left out details about Iniko’s spice dealings, but had to mention his terrifying encounter and unfortunate entanglement with La Pi Volez.

“Can I see it?” His friend, Pietra, grabbed his left hand and inspected to find the band with the pearl.
“Jewelry looks good on you,” she said matter-of-fact.
“They make me wear this at all times,” he said with no mirth.
“You do look tougher,” Buriken added, “but are they giving you assignments too?”
Lucien nodded the affirmative. “I don’t know what yet, but they said until I get a job they would have work for me to do.”
“Well this could be good!” Pietra added. “Are they giving you a job as well?”
“I think so,” Lucien added, taking another bite of the bun. It tasted slightly burnt, but full of love.
“The law wont mess with you,” Buriken said with confidence. “La Pi Volez has too many connections, as long as you don’t pluck anyone’s tail feathers you’re fine.” He took a sip of the bitter herbal tea they had brewed. “I think they don’t expect much from you. I’d bet you are just insurance to make sure your brother doesn’t back out of anything.”
Buriken pointed at his pearl bracelet, “They don’t accept anyone as recruits, so not just anyone can walk in and get that. They must think your brother is something else.”
“He is, but I worry what they’ll make him do,” Lucien said over his glass.

********************
The shadow of a form was running through the underbrush towards them.
“What is that?” Claws asked. The group was out in the drizzle a few hours walk from where they had rested. The clouds remained but the landscape had darkened with the sun’s rays coming in lower. They took a fighting stance with Talia and her blades in the center. The others lowered their claws earlier than her as the figure slowed to a halt.
She guessed what the creature was before it walked the last few steps towards the group. A lone Tree-Runner, very tall and a bit bulkier in the limbs, walked over with its placid stare.
“Hello,” Torin said looking up to the Tree-Runner which turned to her but as usual did not speak or express any emotions. Half the vegetation hanging off its head looked to have been braided.
“Looks like someone took a bite out of this one,” Claws said and pointed out one of its arms had a chunk missing. The injury did not seem to both the creature.
“Do you think he’ll lead us to the Skeleton Forest?” Talia asked. Its dull eyes found her and walked straight towards her with forearms extended like a Forest Shadow greeting. Mr. Dirt moved to block it.
“It’s okay. I think he’s just saying hello,” she said and accepted the greeting, head craned back to view the 8-foot giant. From the greeting it swept her up in its arms like a doll and threw her over its shoulder. She shouted and Mr. Dirt called out in alarm, but suddenly he was a blur behind her as the tree sped back into the woods.
“Hey! Stop! Put me down!” Talia hit it on the back and kicked it in the chest, but the creature was unphased. Forward propulsion prevented her from hitting its head. How did something so large run so fast?
Talia could see the others racing back towards her, with Claws lagging the group due to her heavy backpack. He was soon out of sight, but the others kept pace.
“Those are my friends! Stop running! I need them!” Talia flailed like a fish and managed to slip out of its grasp and off its back. The tree kicked up dirt in its haste to stop and started back for Talia again. She pulled out her blades.
“Back. Off.”
“What,” Mr. Dirt gasped and arrived beside her, “was that about?”
The Tree-Runner looked hesitantly at the three approaching Forest Shadows.
“What, you think we’re going to eat her, you imbecile?” He shouted at the Tree-Runner. “We’re the only reason she’s alive! I doubt you’d do much better,” he waved at the creature.
“Keep that thing away from me,” Talia said. Torin frowned at her.
“I don’t think it meant to harm you,” Torin said.
“I don’t trust it. Tree-Runner,” Talia said addressing the creature, “you can lead us as a group, or you can go away. These are trustworthy people.” Claws finally caught up, panting and swaying with Talia’s bag on his back.
The tree started to walk back in the direction it had been running.
“Do you think it’s leading us,” Mr. Dirt whispered, “or it decided to going away?”
Talia wordlessly started following after, Torin looking concerned at her side.
“It was just a misunderstanding.” Torin said a few minutes later. “For as much criticism as I give the forest, I can’t help but feel you need to trust it.”
Talia said nothing in response but begrudgingly continued walking, so Torin let the topic drop. It was not long before the tree cover began to thin out and a grey-orange glow of a sunset breaking the clouds came into view. The Tree Runner kept walking northeast through the ferns but a short distance later the land had turned into hills of sparsely forested grassland. It stopped walking and sat down.
“Is it sleeping?” Torin asked.
“That’s it,” Mr. Dirt said in awe and pointed further up to a taller hill just ahead. From beyond the hill were the visible remains of dead massive cedars and pines poking up like sentinels along a borderland.
“Those trees must be huge!” Talia said with a growing smile on her face.
“Why does this make you so happy?” Claws said wearily from behind. “They’re dead. They can’t talk.”
“Ah, but you’d never know what a dead tree can say until you’ve looked up close,” Talia replied.
“Can we stop now?” Mr. Dirt asked and pointed at their guide. “He’s actually asleep.”
“That sounds good to me!” Talia said. “The rain has stopped and we’re all soaking wet and tired. Let’s get a hot fire going, see if we can refill the water at that last creek we passed, and I’ll set up my tent before night blindness makes that a struggle and one of you has to figure it out.”

********************
The drizzle on the rain guard woke Talia up to a surreal confusion. This place was not familiar. In her dream, she walked into her old home where her Forest Shadow traveling companions had been sitting around drinking tea with her old colleagues at the university. They wore normal jeans and button up shirts, and Torin had a pink blouse on. Now she was in this plastic world, very unnatural. She was waking to morning light. Everything felt off.
Unzipping the tent to peer outside, she saw the morning glow behind an overcast sky and Torin sitting with Ashiki. They were under a waxed rain guard tied to three trees with their hammocks hanging above them. They were playing some card game and Ashiki gave a satisfied, “yes!” while Torin reached in her pocket to hand him something.
“Looks like you’re becoming diurnal, a day-walker,” Zarenik said from beside the fire at the edge of the tent. A skinned four-legged… something was finishing roasting over the flame. As for the hide, Zarenik appeared to be rubbing it with some of the dead animal’s organs. Was that brain?
“What are you doing, Claws?”
“How primitive are you?” Zarenik asked while glancing up at her briefly. “I’m tanning a hide.”
“Zarzar is making you a little gift!” Ashiki said with a grin.
“I am not,” he replied levelly while scrubbing its brains out.
“A girl needs some fur, isn’t that what you said?”
“No,” Zarenik replied to his brother. “I believe those were your words.”
Talia zipped up the tent.
“See, she has rejected you now,” Ashiki said and shook his head.

Talia dug out from the bottom of her pack one of her old traveling outfits – beige quick-drying synthetic pants and a green t-shirt coupled with a darker green windbreaker rain jacket. She had not worn human clothing since shortly after her arrival to the Fen household. Only her original shoes, boots, and underclothing had she continued to wear, as the Forest Runners offered no appropriate substitutes.
Daypack ready with mask and trays for gathering samples, she put up her hair, put on her cap, and stepped out of the tent as Talia-the-researcher returned. Torin and Ashiki stared as she hurried under their shelter with her backpack at the ready. Heat flushed her face as she felt terribly out of place. Even Zarenik spared her a glance.
“No fur for you!” Ashiki said. “You look like something other-worldly,” He came over to inspect. “Very intimidating and mysterious, but you still look weak in a freaky way. Though the clothes make your form awkwardly visible. Compared to your work clothes, these make you look distinctly misshapen. This feels really creepy! It’s not plant-based, is it? Does everyone dress like this where you’re from?”
The onslaught of questions was a bit much. Talia looked at Torin and asked, “Do you have anything to drink?”
Torin set to prepared some bitter root tea in the empty cooking pot by the fire while Talia worked to satiate Ashiki’s curiosity. It was decided the group of Forest Shadows would have to leave the following night for work and apprenticeship commitments. They shared a breakfast or dinner of fresh meats with boiled mountain greens and grains, during the preparation of which it was noted that their guide had gone.
The drizzle abated as Talia led the group towards the crest of the Skeleton Forest. She kept a close eye on her gas mask indication of air quality. “Remember, if you hear a beeping or if you feel light headed,” she warned.
“Yes, we know, we are not fools,” Zarenik replied with irritation.
“This is amazing! How many people have actually seen what we’re about to see?” Ashiki said with excitement and threw an arm around Talia.
At the top of the crest, the group froze. The Skeleton Forest was a hellish scene unlike anything Talia had ever seen. The massive valley before them was full of bark-stripped giants of enormous proportions, eroded stones from the canon sides, rising smoke and haze, and mud-packed ground. A river had cut a stone-laden path but the water was a teal, bubbling mass. Nothing grew along its edges. In fact, there were no mosses, no lichen, and no signs of life at all. An amazing array of caverns, drop offs, a waterfall, and everywhere memories of the old world stood erect in a timeless scene.
The beeping alert promptly began crying in earnest. The others had withdrawn first and Talia quickly hurried to join them. They had stopped a good distance away and were wide-eyed as Talia joined them.
“It’s incredible!” Talia said.
“That’s what you’re going into?” Ashiki asked. “The trees do want you dead, then! What happened down there?” They all looked at Talia expectantly.
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “My field of study was biology, you know, living things.” Looking back up at the crest, she checked her gas mask tank to make sure it was full. “Does this area happen to get earthquakes?”
“I don’t know that word,” Torin said with concern.
“Those could be volcanic gases, but I don’t see how they could fill an entire valley to the brim. Some gas heavy enough to not be swept out?”
“What are volcanic gases?” Ashiki asked.
“When the hot magma under the earth’s crust rises up to the service at plate borders,” she saw the confusion in his face and added, “stay with me here. When the plates that the world floats on move above its hot core, that heat from below escapes at the edges and turns into volcanoes. They spew tons of toxic gases, ashes, and a hot liquid called lava which all races down the side of the volcanic mountain and obliterates everything in the vicinity.” The others stared at her with confusion and horror. “That’s where mountains come from.”
“What?” Torin asked.
“If you don’t have earthquakes, that might not be the issue. I hope it’s not, but it seems likely. I don’t know what kind of gases are in there, but a mask won’t protect all of me.”
“You’re a natural at telling stories, but they’re terrifying. Could you maybe not walk into the valley of death?” Ashiki seemed to plead. “Send the other Tree Runner first! See how he fairs.”
Talia pulled a rope out of her bag and tied an end off on herself.
“Here, I am going to go in just a short way. If something seems wrong or you feel me start tugging on the cord, pull me back to the rim, okay? I’m just a bit worried about this.”
The others stood short of the drop off and turned their heads as if staring directly forward would lead them to certain death. Talia slipped the mask on and stood again on the lip of the valley. The air had no odd coloration about it, nothing to indicate it was different than usual. Only her gas monitor beeped a quick warning that things in the air were not as they appeared.
She started down a gentle incline to her left that followed the lip of the crest. Several minutes into her walk, she still had noticed nothing strange about her skin. Perhaps the gas issue was only a breathing one and she wouldn’t soon have acid rain breaking out on her skin. She walked back to the top, took the rope back from the others while assuring them she would be okay, and descended further into the valley.
Large dead cedars lined the pathway down, with the occasional boulders as she passed closer to a cliff. All around an impenetrable silence made the mood both peaceful and stifling. Only her boots crunched on rock. As she witnessed on her first look, there were no signs of grass, moss, or plants of any kind. No birds sang. A hazy drizzle began and abated, but her skin did not burn so she continued further down.

When she came out several hours later, she was no closer to understanding the mystery of the Skeleton Forest. There were no plant samples to bring back, no way to get a cutting from a tree, and erosion on the fallen trees did not provide much insight into their last years of life and what cut them short. While volcanic activity seemed the likeliest answer, there was no ash on the ground to indicate any eruption recent or ancient. Just a muddy, lifeless earth now coated her boots.
“So are you sure you want to stay here?” Torin asked after their evening meal. The Forest Shadows had prepared another large animal which had caught, cooked, and turned into a hearty stew with wild root vegetables and greens over the fire. The previous day’s remains were drying into jerky under their shelter – the others had hardly slept but kept busy while she was away. Tonight’s kill was called a kaliot and looked like a large hyena cross-bred with a sloth which traveled quickly through the trees. While not too dangerous for a pack of Forest Shadows, it did prey on smaller creatures including Tree-Runners. She would need to keep an eye out for the rest of the pack.
Torin noticed her eyeing the creature and added, “Don’t worry, we’ve spread enough scent marks to ward off any unfriendly predators from the area.”
“Thanks,” Talia said awkwardly. She did not want to know what a scent mark implied, but was grateful for the added deterrent to other potential beasts that might be interested in her. “Yes, it’s going to take a while to map out the valley and investigate. If I need to relocate, I’ll try to leave you a message so you know I’m alright.”
“Not a good idea,” Torin said and bit her lip with her canines. “Any trail you leave, even just a sign you were here, it makes you easier to track.”
“And that’s bad? What if I need to meet back up with you?”
“It is better we not visit each other, or that will bring suspicion as well. I also don’t know if Mar realizes you ran away yet, but you should stay low for now. She may send hunters to bring you back, and they know us. Just be careful, okay?” She gripped her forearms and their foreheads met. “Keep your claws sharp, Talia Ashton. And don’t die.”

After Torin, Ashiki, and Zarenik packed up and left, Talia sat under their shelter near the dying fire and watched the sunset turn reappearing clouds from pink to purple and the orange haze near the horizon expire to night blue. A sorrow filled in the campsite in their absence. She looked up to see the first appearing stars slide behind the incoming clouds promising rain by their misty trails. Wiping her eyes, she packed up the food for the night and began preparing for bed.
In her dry tent, listening to the water beat upon her tent, a peace returned to her. This life was only a glimpse of life that was already gone, it was hardly hers. Loud howling and yipping beasts of the night, mysterious foot falls, owl-like calls, and insects of the night kept her awake for hours. Strange dreams broke within seconds in her unsettled rest. She woke up from a partial sleep at one point to a mournful wailing pack and was reminded of the kaliots. It sounded close. Was something moving near the tent? Would they come for her? Life here was well acquainted with loss and death and no guarantee of tomorrow. Her first night alone was long, broken, and miserable affair which concluded only as the earliest morning bird songs felt inspired to stir. Night phantoms seemed to vanish with the weakest light of dawn. To the comforting songs of birds which she associated with her nocturnal resting time, Talia finally slept.

A little over a week into her stay, Talia had woken energetic and bounding on her feet. Sitting in the rare break of morning sun, she scarfed down some cheese, jerky, and the last of her bread. After washing up and refilling her water at a nearby stream, she grabbed her mask and her pack and headed into the Skeleton Forest. Yesterday she had discovered underground tunnels several hours into the forest, near the further side. She had almost stumbled into one that had caved in, but thankfully escaped the near accident unscathed. What’s more, near the caves were vents releasing some unusual fumes.
Before heading out, she heard a rustle in the foliage and her hands went immediately to a side-blade she’d attached to her belt loop. Talia relaxed when she saw it was the tall Tree Runner carrying some raspberry-like fruit clusters for her.
“Thanks, Understory.” The Tree Runner who had originally led them here placed the gift in her hands. His strange name did not suit him, as he was hardly a small sapling beneath the dark forest cover. He may have been stunted in height at a younger age, but that hardly reflected in the 8-foot stature he currently possessed.

“I found some underground caverns in the valley yesterday,” Talia said to Understory as he squatted awkwardly beside her to stare at the mud on her shoes. He pinched some of the mud, rubbed it between his fingers, and smelled it. “There looked to be some kind of fumes being emitted from underground.” He sat up, brushed the mud off his hands, and offered out his arms to her. Somewhat reluctantly, Talia took his arms and her vision went dark. She was only vaguely aware that her muscles were as tense as if she’d grabbed an electrical current. Talia could see him looking through her memories in the valley yesterday, and the day before. He flipped back and forth as if searching a book, before hesitating on the image of one of the trees.
It was one of the original ancestors of the Tree Settlers. The valley was apparently as far back as their memory began as a species. He did not appear sad or longing, but simply curious about the old being. It was rare to find an almost human-like emotion in a tree, but their connection to other trees singled out as the only point of emotional response she had seen so far. All species seemed to seek the welfare or companionship of their own.
She mentally guided Understory to the memory of the caves and smoke trails from around the rocks she had seen. He didn’t comprehend what she was showing him but seemed to approve of her investigating it.
Talia was fixed to her place like a tree herself, blind to the world around her until he let go of her arms and mentally broke the connection. Talking with Tree Runners that way made her feel less human. She rubbed her arms to chase off the goosebumps.
“I really don’t like that, you know,” she said. It was the third morning Understory had visited her bringing a gift and scanning her memories to likely report back to his superiors. He bowed and ran back to the edge of the forest checking the ground for something. Understory bent over and rolled over a piece of bark. Beneath it, he grabbed at beetles and worms and started shoving them into his face.
“Marvelous,” Talia said quietly. “At least you are a self-reliant companion, if a poor conversationalist.”

Talia quickly followed the familiar trail down the slope. Soon it began to drizzle and the wind steadily grew stronger as she made her way down. The natural switchback was essential when the rain had washed away all but the most stubborn stones and logs. The decomposition of the tree limbs on the ground seemed to have frozen in time, as even the bacteria must have found the atmosphere unfriendly. The forest flotsam helped to prevent too much erosion, but small landslides were inevitable.
After the first several days of taking three trips a day into the dead forest and retrieving samples of her findings, Talia realized there was no ash in the top layers of the earth to indicate a volcanic eruption would have caused the death of the Skeleton Forest. However, there was heat coming from the ground which was causing the river to bubble. It was possible the volcano was dormant but the heat remained below to feed hot springs. However, she did not think hot spring fumes were toxic, and even if they were it seemed doubtful to have filled the whole valley.
At the cave she inspected the vents with caution but for concern stayed away from the steady stream of clouds rising above them. Another unfortunate thing she had noticed was a slight reddening of her exposed skin. While the fumes in the air did not affect her protected lungs, they were causing mild irritation to her epidermis.
Upon finding an entrance to the underground, she was immediately taken by the oddity of black exposed rock that played in the daylight with an illusion of blue-sheen. Small crystals in the rock grabbed the light. She found a piece that had come loose from the cave and put it into one of her sample trays. The majority of the cave was a mixture of soil with larger igneous rock of simple grey, but the unusual shiny stone was scattered throughout the dirt in fairly large chunks.
Pulling out her headlamp, she peered into the cave and the three different tunnels that broke off from the larger opening. The left-most path headed back roughly in the direction she had come from and towards the boiling river. She could hear a slight dripping echoing down that way and concluded the river may have flooded the tunnel. The center path was broken by fallen earth and ended abruptly a short distance away.
As the rain outside the tunnel had started to downpour, she turned on the headlamp and headed a short way into the far-right tunnel. The black-blue rocks scattered in clumps on the ground nearly blocked her path and seemed to litter the trail for a long way down. She picked one of the larger rocks up to move it and noticed it seemed warm to the touch. While the tunnel was itself a bit cozier than she had expected, might the rock be having a chemical reaction?
Talia grabbed one of the larger black stones and headed back out to the exit of the tunnel. As soon as she stepped out into the rain, the rock began to sizzle and started to burn her hands. She dropped it and stepped back into the shelter of the cave, watching it hiss as a thick smoke rose off the stone. It must be reacting to something in the rain!
Wiping her hands off on her trousers, she kicked a loose stone of the black rock into the rain. It too began to hiss and smoke as thick as if it were a small, portable fire. She squatted in the shelter of the entrance and stared intently at the stone to see if it had shrunk noticeably in size. It was hard to gauge, and so she pulled out her journal to take notes on smaller stones and began to experiment.