Falling Ashes (5 page)

I didn’t want to dwell on Who. I needed to worry about what I was going to do from here.

Resting my head against a log, I looked up at the night sky. It was perfectly clear, and the moon illuminated the forest well. I lay there, deep in thought, for several minutes, my eyes becoming heavier with each passing moment. I was on the brink of sleep when an unfamiliar sound jolted me awake.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

I could hear careful footsteps, snaking their way through the trees. Trees and bushes rustled as whatever it was made it’s way closer to my clearing.

It sounded vast, and my first thought was of the teleporter who had attacked us in Mortlock.

No, he couldn’t have known I was here. It was impossible. Besides, if it were him, why would he walk through the forest to capture me, and risk being heard?

No, whatever it was sounded large. Perhaps a wild animal?

I stood slowly, beckoning Hawthorne towards me. He had been preoccupied with a moth that was hovering around the fire, but his attention snapped to me immediately.

We stood, listening in silence for several moments, waiting for the sound of the footsteps, yet they did not continue. I had the horrible feeling that something or someone was standing just beyond the tree line, out of sight and watching us. The very thought sent chills down my spine. I tugged on Hawthorne’s fur, and brought him close to me. The proximity made me feel better.

‘Stay close, okay?’ I muttered.

We paced the clearing, squinting through the woods for any sign of movement. My heart was drumming fast as all of the possible scenarios played through my head.

After half an hour of severe alertness, I was forced to conclude that it had been nothing more than the wilderness stirring beyond sight.

Using Hawthorne as a pillow, I lay down and curled into a ball, watching the embers fly into the sky and vanish against the blackness of night.

My eyes stung from the flight, and it was far too easy to allow myself to drift to sleep.

~

I awoke what felt like several hours later, with a severe neck ache. Rubbing my neck, I discovered that I had been lying on a jagged rock, and not Hawthorne like I had expected.

It was pitch black now; the only source of light was the moon, as the campfire had died whilst I’d slept. I felt around for Hawthorne, but my fingers touched only the dirty surface of the forest floor. Sitting up, I squinted around for a hint of white to indicate where Hawthorne was.

It did not take me long to conclude that Hawthorne was not in the clearing. He’d left me here, alone.

The silence that surrounded me was unnatural. Not a leaf twitched in the trees, and not a bush rustled. All was silent.

Did I dare call out for Hawthorne? What if someone was close by? I did not want to draw attention to myself.

‘Hawthorne?’ I hissed into the night. My voice sounded strange and distant.

Remain calm
, I told myself. My heart was already beginning to race with the absence of Hawthorne. He had probably gone off to chase a squirrel, or to find some food.
Yes, that would be it. He was probably hunting.

Getting to my feet, I turned on the spot, squinting through the dense trees for a glimpse of white, or a hint of movement.

‘
Hawthorne
,’ I croaked. I felt as though my voice would barely penetrate the shrubbery surrounding me, though I hoped that there was no one else in this forest that might hear me.

To my left, I heard the bushes rustling. Instinctively, I ignited a ball of fire, which hovered inches above my palm. The flames lit up the clearing, casting dark shadows and illuminating a pair of large, yellow eyes between the trees that stood six feet above the ground.

Something large was standing between the trees, watching me.

I gasped and stepped backwards, tripping over a log in my haste. Losing my balance, I crashed to the ground, hitting my head against the forest floor. Lights burst in front of my eyes, and the fire-ball extinguished immediately, submerging the clearing into total darkness once more.

Dazed, I sat up and stared at the place where I had seen the eyes, but the glow of the fire-ball was imprinted on my eyelids, making it hard to see.

Blinking the lights away and rubbing my head, I reignited my palm and searched the tree line. The eyes were gone.

I stood up quickly, staggering slightly as the blood rushed from my head. I turned on the spot, holding the fire high above my head in an attempt to light up as much of the forest as possible.

I’d rotated barely a hundred and eighty degrees when I came face to face with a pair of enormous blue eyes, barely an inch away from my nose.

With a yelp, I jumped back, but I knew at once that it was Hawthorne who had sneaked up behind me.

‘
Don’t do that,
’ I scolded, my heart beating frantically. ‘You scared the living daylights out of me.’

Rubbing my chest, and wondering if I was about to have a heart attack, I sat on the log I’d tripped over minutes before.

‘Where have you been?’ I whispered. I wasn’t sure why I was keeping my voice down. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being spied upon. I was too much of a coward to investigate beyond those trees.

Looking guilty, Hawthorne sat next to me and rested his chin on my shoulder. I pet him absently, my mind still reeling from the eyes I had spotted in the forest. It couldn’t have been Hawthorne. They had been a completely different colour, and shape.

But Hawthorne’s senses were far more accurate than my own. Surely he would have heard, seen, or smelled something mere meters away?

‘Did you find anything strange in the forest?’ I asked him.

Hawthorne arched his neck and looked over his shoulder, a worrisome expression in his eyes. 

‘What is it?’ I asked. I could tell something was bothering him.

Hawthorne had been acting strange ever since we’d returned to Mortlock. I couldn’t help but feel that something was plaguing his mind, yet I couldn’t guess what it might be.

‘Don’t leave me alone, okay?’ I said, feeling rather selfish.

I was scared of the forest, and I did not want to wake up to find myself alone once again.

I huddled against Hawthorne but was not able to fall asleep again. Instead, I waited for the sun to rise, watching the sky turn from black, to midnight blue, and finally, a pinkish hue.

When the last of the stars had faded against the sky, I stretched and rubbed my head, where I had hit it hours before. It was a little bit sore, but there didn’t appear to be any lasting damage. 

At a guess, I assumed it to be around four o’clock in the morning. If Hawthorne and I left now, we would be able to make it home to Mortlock before the sun had fully risen. Would it be wise to return home in daylight?

I wasn’t sure, but I had to ensure my family was all right.  Chances were that they would not be at the house, for the villagers would have forced entry the night before.

My stomach grumbling loudly, I poked Hawthorne awake, and watched as he groaned and rolled onto his side.

‘Come on,’ I urged him, throwing my back against his side, trying to shove him into an upright position. ‘We have to get going.’

Moodily, Hawthorne stretched and stood up, giving a great yawn. Our stomachs growled in unison.

Grabbing my rucksack, I rummaged through the miscellaneous items I had thrown into my bag, and was pleased to find I had packed an apple and a bread roll.

Hawthorne slunk away to hunt while I ate my breakfast. He returned only minutes later with a dead rabbit hanging from his mouth. I congratulated him on his catch and began to pack while he ate it, crunching noisily on the bones.

When it was time to leave, Hawthorne seemed hesitant, listening intently for sounds and movement in the trees. Finally, after much urging, he allowed me to climb up on his back, and we were airborne within minutes.

I was glad that Hawthorne had an excellent sense of direction because I had no idea where we were.

Villages and forestry whizzed underneath us, all of it looking extremely uniform, yet Hawthorne seemed to know where we were going because we were above Mortlock within the hour.

‘Land in the woods,’ I told him.

The sun was fully up now, and we would require some cover if we were to return home undetected.

Landing in our usual clearing near the house, I dismounted Hawthorne and wound my way through the trees that led to my house.

Hiding amongst the bushes, I watched the house for several minutes, looking for any signs of noise or movement. No one left, or entered, the premises, and no sound could be heard from inside. But that didn’t mean anything.

The odds of my family being in the house were slim. I was sure they would have fled after I had. The villagers would have made sure of that.

Taking a deep breath, I emerged from the bushes and crept towards the house. I kept low, moving quickly up to the front door. Trying the handle, I found that it was locked.

That was a good sign, I thought. I was sure that trespassers would not lock the door behind themselves. Perhaps this meant that my parents and Jack had been able to leave the house in an orderly fashion, without too much hassle. I knocked twice, just in case someone was home. I was not surprised when there was no answer.

The locked door did not present a problem for me. Though I did not have a key in my bag, I knew my mother left a key hidden at the front of the house.

I walked to the garden beds beside the front porch and picked up the third stone from the left. It was hollow, and inside was a key to the front door. Rushing back, I shoved the key in the hole, and turned it easily. I heard the click to signify that the door was now unlocked.

I opened the door and crossed the threshold immediately, my foot catching on something before I was even a few feet into the house.

As I stumbled, the sound of a small bell tinkling filled the room. I looked around for the source of the noise and saw a little golden bell next to the door frame. It was attached to a piece of wire.

That was what I had tripped on.

The wire stretched across the floor so anyone that entered would set off the bell.

But who had set up this alarm?

My question was answered before I had even finished thinking it. Suddenly, I was hoisted by one foot and turned upside down so I was dangling in mid air, hovering with my head only a foot above the floor.

Gasping, I tried to stop my dress from falling over my head and revealing my underpants. I wanted to have a certain amount of dignity when I was discovered by the person who had set up the booby-trap. 

I did not have the physical strength in my upper-body to hoist myself up and disentangle my foot from the rope that held me, though I could tell that the rope was invisible. I could feel it around my ankle, yet I could not see it.

With the blood rushing to my head, it was extremely difficult to think my way out of this situation.

Panting, I tried to swing my body from side to side, in the hopes of grasping the door frame. I wasn’t sure what good it would do, but it was worth a shot. I could have called for Hawthorne, but I did not want to make my presence more obvious than it already was.

I threw my weight to the side, my outstretched fingers grasping only air. I tried again, getting closer this time. Swinging absurdly, I managed to gain enough momentum to grasp the door frame and hold myself against it.

Sweating and panting, I attempted to crawl my way up the door frame, using nothing but the strength in my arms. My biceps screamed with the effort it took, and I knew it would be useless.

It was hopeless. I was not strong enough. 

I dangled for a minute, trying to gather my thoughts. It was extremely difficult when my head felt as though it weighed a ton because of all the blood that had rushed to it.

A thought occurred to me. Assuming it was rope wrapped around my ankle, it should be flammable. Just because I couldn’t see it, didn’t mean it wasn’t really there. Right?

I positioned myself with palms facing outwards, feeling the fire course through my veins. The flames surged, spilling from me like molten lava, igniting my dress and my shoes, but, of course, it did not burn me.

The invisible rope was set alight, though it was a few moments before it began to give way. I felt it drop me by a fraction, bringing my head closer to the ground. I watched as the fire seemed to burn through thin air.

Inch by inch, the rope began to give way, until I was dropped onto my head with a loud crash.

Groaning, I sat up and rubbed my skull. This was the second blow to the head I’d sustained within a matter of hours.

‘So, you’re a Fire-Mage then?’ said an amused voice.

Jumping violently, I swiveled around to see who had spoken.

A large, muscular man in his late twenties leaned against the door frame that led to my kitchen.  He had tanned skin, messy hair, and an unshaven face. It looked as though he spent a lot of time outdoors, and he had the attire to match.