Black Wood (A Witch Rising) (13 page)

When she reached the clearing,
she stopped to gather her breath and her gaze fell on a tall shape
partly obscured by trees in the distance. Standing on her toes, she
craned her neck to get a better glimpse. The shape was too wide to
be a tree, and black as the night. Could this be the Black
Tower?

The pain in her legs forgotten,
she darted along the path and took a shortcut through the trees
toward it. The shape grew wider and taller the nearer she came. And
then she stood before the tower from her dream with its smooth
stone wall and single window overlooking the forest below.

Emily dropped to her knees,
exhausted. Finally. Her grandmother, Sam and Aurelie would be so
proud. Now she only needed to locate the door and get rid of
Muriel.

Her breath turned into fog as
she sighed. Circling the tower, she rubbed her hands together to
keep warm. No sign of an entrance. She searched once more, the
heavy backpack slowing her down. Maybe she could just hide it under
a bush and retrieve it once she found a way in.

The thicket to her left looked
just right. Emily crawled on all four and pushed her backpack
underneath as far as she could reach. Satisfied no one would see
it, she hurried around the tower, her hand gliding up and down the
smooth surface until she felt a small ridge. She peered closer, her
nose almost touching the cold stone. There, almost level with the
wall, was a tiny metal hook. Pressing her lips tight, she squeezed
her fingers through and pulled as hard as she could, but the wall
didn’t bulge.

Emily scowled. This had to be
the lock because there was no other sign of a door. But why
wouldn’t it just open? And then she remembered the spell. Maybe the
door was concealed with magic. The spell to open locks was worth a
try.

She stepped back and closed her
eyes. The words flowed easily from her lips. “Porta, manifeste et
fac quod vis!”

The wall creaked. Emily repeated
the words, this time with more fervour, her pulse quickening. The
stone cracked. Emily jumped back as the gap widened until it was as
wide as a door.

She peered into the darkness
stretching beyond, when she remembered her backpack. The dagger was
in there. But would the cleft in the wall stay open long enough for
her to retrieve it? Emily shook her head, unsure what to do. No,
she needed the dagger. With a last glance at the entrance, she
dashed back around the Black Tower toward the bush under which it
lay hidden.

Crawling around, she reached the
spot, but the backpack wasn’t there.

Emily blinked as her arms
searched the ground. Where was it? She had chosen this bush, the
largest and densest of them all. Beads of sweat ran down her spine
as she looked underneath neighbouring bushes—just in case. The
backpack wasn’t there either.

With tears in her eyes, she rose
to her feet and turned back toward the thicket when she caught
movement from the corner of her eye. Something sparkled in the
moonlight and feet shuffled across the ground. Someone was there.
And this someone probably stole her backpack.

Emily spun and bolted after the
footsteps, around the tower and through the opening in the
wall.

“Give me my stuff back, you
thief.” Her voice echoed from the naked walls.

“Give me stuff back, ye thief,”
mocked a thin voice, followed by shrill laughter.

Emily frowned. “I’m a powerful
witch. Come out, or I’ll make you.”

More shrill laughter. “If ye’re
so mighty, then solve a riddle.”

“What riddle?” She stomped her
foot as her gaze scanned the darkness stretching to all sides. This
wasn’t the time for games. Everyone counted on her. Yellow eyes
peered from behind the wall. She took a step forward, then
stopped.

“Ye tell me where I live, and
I’ll give yer ugly bag back,” the voice said.

Her bag wasn’t ugly. “Why don’t
you just give it back if you don’t like it?” Emily said.

“Solve the riddle, solve the
riddle, solve the riddle.”

Emily sighed. “Okay.” She chewed
on her nails as she thought. It was walking on earth, so it most
certainly couldn’t fly. “You don’t live in the air.”

“Aye.”

There was no stream nearby, so
it probably didn’t live in the water either. “You don’t live in the
water.”

“Aye.”

It could only be the woods or
the hills then. She opened her mouth to speak when an idea popped
into her mind. Of course, it could’ve watched from the shadows when
she hid her backpack under the bush. But how had it managed to
scurry past to grab it without twigs snapping under its feet?

Unless it had come underground.
Emily gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, goosebumps
spreading across her arms.

“Do ye know the answer?” the
voice asked. “I shan’t wait forever.”

“Underground?” She swallowed and
forced herself to speak up. “You live underground.”

“How did ye guess?” The voice
didn’t sound happy.

“It’s the right answer, isn’t
it? Now, give me back my backpack,” Emily said, hoping she sounded
menacing enough.

“You cheated. I’m not giving ye
anything.”

Emily slapped her forehead. Of
course, it’d be lying. Hadn’t Aurelie taught her not to trust
anyone in Black Wood? Well, if it wasn’t coming out, she was going
to chase after it. She muttered the magic words under her breath
until a tiny flame sprang from the palm of her hand.

As she peered ahead, she froze
on the spot. There, right in front of her, stood the most hideous
creature she had ever seen.

Emily opened her mouth and
screamed on the top of her lungs.

The creature with its pig nose,
yellow eyes and red skin jumped up and screeched, revealing long,
yellow fangs and a pink, forked tongue. “Shut yer mouth! I can’t
stand the noise.”

With hoof-like hands it covered
its ears, dropping the backpack onto the floor.

Emily’s cry died in her throat.
Whatever it was, it didn’t seem as dangerous as the water nymph.
But, boy was it ugly. She grabbed her bag from the floor and swung
it over her shoulder.

“Ye’re a mighty witch.” The
creature bowed deeply. “But not as mighty as me mistress.” And with
that it scuttled past her and out into the night.

Speechless, Emily stared after
it until she was sure it wouldn’t sneak back and try to steal her
backpack again. Then she turned her attention toward what looked
like the great hall of Black Tower.

The delicate flame still burning
in her palm threw moving shadows across the stony wall. Emily
scuffled forward across the dusty ground toward a wide, wounding
staircase. She took one tentative step at a time, holding on to a
shaky railing as she climbed up. Eventually, she reached the top
and spun around in a circle, puzzled.

There were four openings that
looked like tunnels, two to the right and two to the left. They
couldn’t be too long because the Tower didn’t look that big from
the outside. But which one would lead to the Black Heart? She
decided to try the first. Holding out her palm, she passed through
the low entryway and entered pitch-blackness. Surely the tunnels
wouldn’t go very deep. She counted fifty steps, then halted,
frowning.

How could a mere tower, barely
wider than the house in London, seem so huge from the inside? And
then it dawned on her. It was magic. Like Black Wood, the tower was
built around magic. Emily returned to the staircase to try the
second opening.

The archway was narrower but big
enough to squeeze in. After twenty paces, Emily noticed something
sparkle in the distance. She lifted the flame in her hand, but its
light didn’t carry that far. As she advanced, the sparkling grew in
intensity and width, until she stood several feet away from a
large, golden tree with green leaves and ripe, red apples.

The juicy apples made her mouth
water and her tummy rumbled. Could she have one? Or were they
poisoned like the apples in fairy tales? Emily kneed down and
picked one up. It smelled just scrumptious, but she had no time to
waste. Opening her backpack, she dropped it in and went about
examining the tree. The trunk was made of gold. She let her fingers
glide over the smooth surface.

Something glittered from a
branch above her head. She glanced up and gasped. Hanging from a
thin twig, surrounded by beautiful dark green leaves, was a golden
apple. Could this be the Black Heart? Aurelie had never said what
it looked like because she didn’t know herself.

Jumping, Emily grabbed hold of a
thick branch and pulled herself up, but her foot kept slipping on
the slick tree bark. On the third attempt, she heaved herself up
high enough to drape one leg over the branch.

She took a deep breath and
stretched out one arm as far as she could. Her fingers connected
with the apple and she tugged. As the apple loosened from the
branch, the tree shook. Before she knew it, she lost her balance
and landed on the ground with a thud, the apple squeezed in between
her belly and the dusty ground. She rolled onto her back, hoping
she hadn’t squashed the apple into apple juice.

It was still whole, but her arm
throbbed as she stirred. Huffing, she just lay there as she waited
for the pain to die down when the ground shook again. Emily sat up,
her heart racing. Why kept the tree shaking? And then she realised
it wasn’t the tree at all, but the ground. Something was happening.
Better get out of there.

Ignoring the pain in her arm,
she bolted the way she had come, toward the staircase, her hand
still holding on to the apple. The ground trembled again; a screech
like that of a voracious eagle shook the air.

Emily slowed down, paralyzed,
her eyes scanning the gloomy room. The earth underneath her feet
shook, and with it came another screech, this time nearer, but
still not near enough to place where it came from. Hundreds of
thoughts raced through her mind. Maybe the water nymph had found
her. Or it could be killer birds, dragons, snakes. Her tummy tensed
into a knot and she shuddered as she forced her thoughts to the
back of her mind. Whatever it was, she sure didn’t want to meet
it.

Her hand wandered inside her
backpack, pushing the golden apple in and pulling out the dagger.
When the third screech echoed, she reached the archway and stopped,
considering her options. The sound seemed to come from the
staircase. Maybe it was climbing up the stairs. Should she take a
chance, or hide inside one of the tunnels until morning?

When the ground quaked again,
she darted for the nearest tunnel. She didn’t see the net until she
ran right into it. Her hands and feet caught into something smooth
and she was dragged up. The dagger clattered to the floor. Her
pulse quickened as she fought to free her arms, but the more she
wriggled, the more the threads tautened.

A gust of air blew in, dousing
the flame in Emily’s hand and bathing her in darkness. Her mind
tried to find a way to escape although she knew there was none. And
then all went silent. She whimpered. When she heard the faintest
breathing, her heart skipped a beat.

Whatever it was, it stood to her
left, only a few feet away.

“Let me go.” Emily’s voice rang
shaky, barely more than a whisper in her own ears.

The creature hissed and inched
closer, the sound of a dozen suction cups attaching to a window.
Emily opened her mouth to scream and yanked her arms as hard as she
could. The sticky threads didn’t give in.

“Dinner.”

Did it just say dinner? She
strained her ears to understand the words.

“You’re lucky I’m no longer
hungry after that troll I had for dinner,” the creature hissed.

Emily’s heart hammered against
her ribs. It was going to eat her. She shook her head. No, this
couldn’t be. The golden apple, the heart of the tree, lay hidden in
her backpack. She was too close to defeat Muriel. No way would she
give up now.

“Dinner. Tonight.” The creature
hissed again as the sound of suction cups moved away from her, and
Emily breathed in, relieved.

There was still time, because it
wasn’t going to eat her now. She’d only entered Black Wood hours
ago, but it felt as though she’d been here for ages. Morning would
break soon. She had less than twelve hours to come up with an
escape plan. Or be eaten.

In spite of her mind’s frantic
attempts to come up with a solution, Emily felt her eyelids grew
heavy. Before she knew it, she fell in a restless slumber, dreaming
of water and something dark and faceless chasing her through the
woods.

***

Emily had no idea how much time
had passed. As she stirred, she remembered she was still dangling
high up in the air. Trying to wriggle into a more comfortable
position, she sighed. Why hadn’t she just taken the stairs?

The vast space was still bathed
in total darkness. Her heart started hammering again. Maybe she
could light a tiny flame. Just a tiny one so she would see a little
to her left and right.

The fire flared up within her
palm on the first attempt, and Emily peered around. She was hanging
from thin, grey cords several feet off the ground. The threads
looked like a tightly-woven maze. She twisted her hand to get a
better glimpse of where she was, but the yarn around her wrist was
too tight. At least she could move her head.

In the light of the flame, the
thread around her looked as fine as silver. It was too strong to
rip, but maybe it would burn?

Emily drew in her breath, and
then, ever so gently, blew it out toward the flame. It flickered in
her palm, but didn’t go out. Spreading her fingers as much as she
could, she inhaled another mouthful of air, and exhaled with a
little more fervour. As the flame flickered to the left and right,
a thin yarn around her wrist caught fire. The tiny spark gnawed at
the silvery filament until it turned into fine dust.