No Place Like Home, page 13
“Pines are famously cranky, especially when it comes to strangers barging in. They don’t play nice with just anyone. Either way, you have to know who you’re dealing with, and take only what you need. That looks different among foreign trees.”
“It all sounds so complicated. How are we supposed to know what’s okay if every place is different?”
“You take the time to learn.”
“What about you? Have you ever left this forest?”
“What for?”
“Don’t you get curious about what else is out there? I always did.”
Zephyr shrugged and simply said, “This is home.”
Lan looked around. Rays of sunlight danced on speckled leaves. Colorful mushrooms poked out of the damp dirt, and dewdrops sat suspended in spiderwebs. The air smelled so clean. Amid it all, she could almost understand what Zephyr meant.
* * *
They returned to camp to an upset Kestrel who did not accept Zephyr’s answer of fresh air as an excuse for disappearing. (We live in a forest!) Lan was sent straight to bed with another sip of potion to help her rest. When she woke the following morning, Annabelle was stirring. Lan resisted the urge to prod her. She did not have to wait long. After just a few minutes, Annabelle’s brown eyes blinked open. She pushed herself upright, bewildered, and took in the towering trees, quiet clearing, and Kestrel bent over something by the fire.
“How are you feeling?” asked Lan at once.
“What happened? Where are we?”
“It’s okay. We’re safe,” said Lan. “You’ve been out for a couple days, but—well, it’s a long story—centaurs and nymphs and woods that change weather. They’re friendly. That’s Kestrel. She’s the reason you’re alive. I can fill you in later. Are you okay?”
Annabelle’s bottom lip quivered. Then she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears. “This is my fault!” she sobbed.
“How do you figure that?” said Lan, taken aback. She tried awkwardly to pat her head.
“I was stupid enough to think we could make it!”
“Well, you were right, weren’t you?”
Annabelle sniffled and stared down at Marlow beside her. Her eyes widened, and her fingers brushed the hair from his forehead.
“Kestrel is a healer,” Lan said quickly. “She said he’ll be fine soon enough.”
“I was wrong,” whispered Annabelle. “This was a horrible idea. I didn’t know what I was doing. My grandmother warned me.”
“Well, you can’t give up now!” said Lan. “We’re halfway there. He’ll wake up, and you’ll get to Asta to do what you were meant to. I’ve got the poppies in my pocket! Proof of a heart!”
“Your book never said anything about a happy ending.”
“Well, it probably would’ve if I’d read that far. These types of books all have happy endings. I’ve read enough of them to know.”
“I can’t put Marlow in more danger. And you have to get back to your family. I’ve kept you both long enough.”
“I’m choosing to be here,” said Lan, stunned by Annabelle’s dejection. She would’ve given anything to see the resolute glint return to her eyes.
“Well, it’s over. You don’t have to anymore.”
“So, what?” said Lan. Frustration rose within her. How could Annabelle take them this far only to quit? “You’re returning to the Academy? It’s just as dangerous to go back.”
“At least I’d know the way,” said Annabelle with a half-hearted shrug. “I’m so tired I can barely move now. Everything hurts. I should’ve stayed put, like I was told.”
She blew her nose on her sleeve and began to cry so hard her whole body shook. Lan was at a complete loss. Her anger slipped away as quickly as it’d arrived. What would Marlow think when he woke? What could any of them do now?
“For the record, I’m glad you didn’t stay in that awful place,” said Lan quietly. “I came through the portal because someone needed me. That’s what the Cognitor told us. If you didn’t decide to go, we would’ve never met.”
“Does that really matter so much to you?”
“Of course it does! Don’t you see how much I’ve learned since I got here? I never thought I could fight a beast! Heart-eater or not, I wouldn’t trade this week for anything.”
“That’s nice of you to say, but you’re still planning on leaving, aren’t you?” said Annabelle. Her shoulders were stiff, and her eyes as hard as the morning they’d met on the riverbank. It made Lan want to shrink. “How can you tell me to keep going, that it’ll be all good and worth it in the end, if you’re not even willing to stick around and see?”
“You never seemed to care much about me staying either way...”
“Because I thought I could do it on my own! Well, I can’t.”
“What are you saying?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Marlow was right. You’re the witch we need to complete our journey to Asta. Without you, there’s no chance. They’re your poppies, not mine—proof of your heart. I’m not going to force you, of course—do whatever you want—but I’m done. My quest is finished.”
Fate in Her Own Hands
Lan sat at the river’s edge, dangling her feet in the murky water. The stream was just down the hill from the northern crest of Ruse’s Hollow, and Kestrel had granted permission for Lan to go on her own. Around her, wild berries burst from bushes, and tall flowers sprouted in pockets around groves. The air was heavy with the approaching weight of a large storm. Lan wondered whether it might whisk her back to Toronto. After all, the Cognitor had said she would find her way home the moment she decided her time in Silva was up. This had to be it. Lan couldn’t go all the way to the capital like Annabelle had asked. In all likelihood, Annabelle had been exhausted and not known what she was saying. She’d come to her senses when she recovered.
From her pockets, Lan pulled the crumpled poppies that she’d gathered at the valley’s edge and smoothed out the petals. They had not wilted or been torn. The bright flowers were as crimson as the ones on Phoenix’s and Kestrel’s trees. Hoa phượng, Lan remembered, that was what they were called in Vietnamese. Even if she gave these to Annabelle and Marlow to carry, would they stay in perfect condition on the road to Asta? Lan wiped away a stray tear that had fallen without her noticing.
“Why are you crying?”
Startled, Lan jumped up and slipped on the wet rocks of the riverbed. Ruse caught her before she tumbled in, clucking disapprovingly.
“A warrior should learn to have better balance,” he said, righting her. “And pay attention to your surroundings.”
“I told you I wasn’t a warrior,” said Lan. “In fact, I was thinking of running away when you snuck up on me like that.”
“I wasn’t sneaking. I was simply walking. Warriors don’t sneak.”
“What is it with you and warriors, anyway? Some of us aren’t! Kestrel isn’t.”
“Of course she is. You think cheating death isn’t worthy of the title?”
Lan paused, her head tilted as she considered Ruse’s words. He looked amused.
“I thought it meant you had to be good at fighting and shooting things.”
“You’re mistaken. It can mean much more. That’s why I’m telling you.”
“You don’t have to stand here and talk to me,” said Lan. “I’m sure you have lots of centaur-y things to do.”
“Old habits,” said Ruse. “I taught folks of all sorts when I was younger. Centaurs have a long history of training heroes. Haven’t you heard? It’s impossible to resist.”
“I have heard, actually,” said Lan. Tales of old wise centaur teachers had been scattered across stories she’d read all her life. “Why did you stop teaching?”
“I trained Zephyr when he joined us, but I’m getting old and feeling the weight of these woods. Most of my kind have moved farther west. They don’t like rain.”
Ruse cast an eye at the darkened sky peeking through the treetops.
“I guess we should go back before it starts pouring,” said Lan, squeezing out her wet trousers.
“Not before you tell me what you’re running away from.”
“Oh, well, it does seem a little harsh when you put it that way.”
“I am simply repeating your words.”
“It’s not that big a deal,” said Lan.
She started to climb up the slope to their camp but paused mid-path and went on. “My parents would probably say I’m being dramatic, but things have been confusing since they decided to move...”
“Tell me.”
Lan hesitated only a second, and then everything tumbled out. All at once, she was recounting to Ruse each detail, from the moment she’d found out about her family’s plans to the defeated look in Annabelle’s eyes that very morning.
“So, you see,” she finished, minutes later, out of breath, “it feels like I’m being pulled in all these different directions, but somehow, I still don’t belong anywhere! Zephyr asked me yesterday about my home, but I don’t even know what home means. It’s just these little pieces, and Annabelle wants me to go with them to Asta, but I can’t lead anyone! I can’t even tell you where I’m meant to be.”
Ruse listened patiently, and at her feet, Lan vaguely noticed tiny dandelions blooming, aging, and wilting in fast-forward motion. They mirrored her quickened breath. Blades of grass grew all around, thick and coarse rather than the slender kind in Canada.
“Annabelle is not asking you to lead,” said Ruse when she stopped talking. “She is lost and seeking comfort from a friend. You can provide that, can’t you?”
“Of course, but—”
“In helping her, you may come to know more about this home you long for, if it is, indeed, one place. I see nothing wrong with the pieces you described.”
“It doesn’t make sense. Home shouldn’t be pieces. It should be a big solid thing! For me, it’s all scattered.”
“Even scattered pieces can make a whole. Look down.” Ruse gestured at the weeds growing underfoot. The forest was always bursting with strange plants. Lan found it hard to distinguish which ones were her doing.
“The Weathering Woods responds to the energy of every living being in order to define the environment. You have been here only a few days, and yet you are already creating changes much like Kestrel’s and Phoenix’s trees, growing in a grove that had never before seen their kind. I have seen homes grow and take form over and over again.”
“I don’t live in the Weathering Woods,” said Lan. “I wouldn’t be able to change anything at home. My world isn’t magical.”
“I wouldn’t know about that, but you can always try and see what you grow. It isn’t easy, but those without the luxury of one place to call home must make do.”
“It’s unfair that I have to try so hard to make a place truly mine.”
“Perhaps, but isn’t that what Annabelle is doing by fighting for her coast?”
“I guess so,” said Lan, “and I want to be where I’m needed most now. But I really do want to try out for the track team, too, like I promised my friend Manav. It started off as a bargain, so he’d get me this book, but I think I actually want to do it now.”
“Can you not help Annabelle and return in time to keep your initial promise?”
“I probably could. Time doesn’t seem to be moving there. My parents are safe.”
“And you think your way isn’t clear?”
“Well, I’m still a half-baked witch who can’t control my powers or fight.”
“I’m afraid the forest is short on trained witches who can teach you magic, at least in a way that would serve you. We have our own way of weaving spells that relies less on outside residue and more on our own strength. But the second part... I do know someone that would be eager to show you a few tricks.”
Lan looked up, hardly daring to believe she’d understood his meaning correctly. “Would you teach me to fight like a real hero?”
“I’m retired, Lan,” said Ruse, “but I’m sure Phoenix would love to oblige. I can ask for you. She’s more than capable, and her style will suit you more, given your—shall we say, limited limb situation.”
“I’d like that very much,” said Lan, “but I’m not sure I’ll be able to learn much if I’m still worried about my friends.”
The thought of Marlow still unconscious turned her insides cold again.
“Consider it,” said Ruse. “Take your time. You need only ask when you’re ready. Now we should return before Kestrel starts to fret.”
Lan nodded and followed. Then, with a loud crack of thunder, the gray clouds brewing above them erupted. Lan gasped at the sudden cold. The ground turned to mud. In seconds, she and Ruse were drenched in the monsoon-like rain. Though Lan could barely see, she grabbed onto Ruse’s hand. They ran uphill, and a weight seemed to lift from Lan’s chest with every step. By the time they reached the Hollow, she was smiling.
* * *
Kestrel, ever protective over her patients, was peeved to find Annabelle so distraught when she woke. Lan was ushered away to let her rest. They only saw each other briefly the next day, but it was long enough for Lan to realize that Annabelle was not going to change her mind.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Marlow still hasn’t woken up,” hissed Annabelle. They were sitting side by side on the bamboo cot, whispering at nightfall. The nymphs had returned to their trees, and the centaurs were dozing on the other side of the Hollow.
“Of course, I’ve noticed!” said Lan, stung. “Kestrel told me today he was better.”
She had seen it, too. Marlow’s breathing came easier. His heartbeat was steadier, and his forehead cool and dry.
“He looks awful,” said Annabelle. The corner of her mouth lifted in a wry smile. “That’s a first.”
“He’ll be up soon,” said Lan. She had to believe it. “He’d tell you to keep going. What will you do if you don’t go on?”
“I hear the woods are a good place to start over,” said Annabelle dryly. “I could take up the healer’s life like Kestrel, save stupid kids who stumble across my path. Maybe by then, someone else will have saved Sol.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you? I mean, it’s your quest.”
“The only one who really believed that was Marlow, and he nearly died for it.”
Lan stayed silent. Annabelle’s beaten voice broke her. There was nothing else she could say, except that—but saying it would make it very real. If Lan promised she would go to Asta, there’d be no turning back.
“He always used to sneak me apples when I was ill,” said Annabelle out of nowhere. She began to cry again. “He never got sick. Never got a scratch on him. I was in the infirmary every week.”
“Were you?” said Lan, surprised.
“Oh, not for any training thing,” Annabelle said. She managed a small smile. “Those kids couldn’t touch me, but the air—I felt in my whole body I wasn’t built for it. I came down with stuff all the time.”
“That’s how I feel about Toronto winters,” said Lan. “I’d joke that I wasn’t born for it. The snow saved us in that grove, though—kind of. So, I can’t complain now.”
“Complain all you want. Marlow definitely listened to his fair share of my gripes. I don’t know how he never told me to shut up.”
She paused, and then continued in the silence that Lan left.
“First time I met him, I was throwing a tantrum in the middle of the training field. This incompetent joke of a teacher made me sit out for terrorizing the other seven-year-olds—their fault for putting a blade in my hand. All I did was dance like my grandmother taught me. Didn’t think I could be punished for being good at it. Anyway, I look across the field to where the older boys are sparring, and he’s staring at me. Challenged me to a round later that day. I lost.” Annabelle shrugged and smiled sadly. “But I think we’re about even now.”
“You know he’ll be okay, right?” said Lan. She reached a hand out. Annabelle returned her squeeze, but she did not seem reassured.
“It’s still my fault. You don’t know how horrible it is seeing him like this. Whatever he thought of the Academy, he loved being on the field, moving. Somehow, he was always good at it... But don’t tell him I said that.”
Suddenly, Marlow’s eyes fluttered as if he’d been listening all along. He stirred. Lan’s heart skipped a beat, and Annabelle’s breath caught.
“Annabelle?” he murmured.
“Right here,” said Annabelle instantly, bending over him.
“Were you talking about me?”
Annabelle began to laugh. She leaned in and hugged him. His arm squeezed tightly around her waist. Lan felt her face wet with tears. Marlow reached with his other hand and found hers.
“You’re okay,” he said. “What happened?”
His eyes squeezed shut again, and he fell back.
“Tell you everything when you’re better.”
“I am better.”
But a minute later, Marlow sank back on the furs and lay fast asleep.
* * *
“You told her what?”
Lan woke to the sound of Marlow’s voice. He was sitting upright, staring at Annabelle in disbelief. The color had returned to his face.
“You can’t be serious,” he said.
“I’m not putting you in danger again,” said Annabelle stubbornly. “My grandma was right. I should just stay put, be patient, and let the big people deal with it.”
“You’re gonna hang out in the Weathering Woods until someone else saves Sol?”
“Why not? It’s comfy.”
“Because, Annabelle, Sol is your home! This isn’t you.”
“Well, I almost died being me, and so did you! Stop arguing with me. You’re making my head hurt again.”
