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The forest was alight with the day. Liam liked the feel of the sunlight on his face. He hadn’t seen sunlight for so long. He lay on his back, watching the branches swaying high overhead. He knew this place. This was the place where he’d met the wolves for the first time. This was where his dream had told him to go. This was where he’d thought she would meet him.
He realized he was almost home. He could feel
before
flooding in all around him. He knew soon he wouldn’t be able to ignore it anymore. Soon
before
and
after
would be one and the same. It didn’t bother him as much as he’d thought it would, and he knew it was because of the dream.
In the dream his mother was calling him. She was waving just as she had the first time. But this time she wasn’t waving him into the forest. This time she was waving him out. She was telling him it would be okay. She was telling him not to be afraid.
She was waving him home.
The little boy pushed off his blanket cheerfully and turned to find the others.
His smile slipped off his face.
The others had vanished.
He rose to his feet slowly. He was confused. The place beside him where Raulf had slept was empty, and there was no sign of Petyr or Shallah or the wolves. His heart began to pound. He strained to hear Shallah’s voice calling to him through the trees, or the playful growl of a wolf come back to find him.
The wood remained silent.
The boy felt the happiness of his dream slipping away.
He searched the ground for some clue, some sign of where his friends had gone, but found none. Had they left without him? He couldn’t believe that Shallah had forgotten him. Shallah loved him, and you didn’t forget the ones you love. But where was she?
Liam couldn’t think what to do. He dragged his blanket through the dirt as he circled the spot. Nothing made sense! He considered trying to find his way home by himself. It was so close by, he knew he could find it. Then he remembered the oaks, and his eyes filled with tears. Soon they would come for him.
He’d never imagined facing them alone.
Suddenly, he heard a voice. For a moment he thought it was his mother’s voice. But that couldn’t be.
“Liam!” the voice cried. “Help me!”
Drawing in a sharp breath, Liam ran towards the sound of Shallah’s voice. He left his blanket and the sun-dappled forest behind. He ran toward the forest’s edge, the canopy breaking up above him. Larger and larger patches of sky began to peek through. All of a sudden, he reached the top of a great downward slope and miles of shimmering blue sky were laid out before him. He hardly noticed. His attention was caught by the terrifying sight below.
A fleet of oaks faced him. Their trunks were so tall that even as he stood on top of the hill, their highest branches were nearly even with his face. Together, the oaks formed a wall so long he couldn’t see its end on either side. The sight made him feel sick. There were so many of them!
Shallah called out to him again. Liam searched the ground for her form until his eyes fell on a sight so terrible he began to whimper.
At the center of the line, almost directly in front of him, Shallah was caught in roots of one of the oaks. Her red kirtle stood out against the dark roots like splashes of blood. She was struggling violently, shredding her clothes as she strove to be free. He wanted to tell her it was no use. The oaks were too strong. She would never get free on her own.
It was up to him.
Crying hard, the child stumbled down the hill toward Shallah. He tripped several times on his way down and skinned his knees. Tumbling the last few yards, his sight blurred with tears, he found himself panting at Shallah’s feet. Above him rose the enormous wall of oaks. They blocked out the sun.
“Oh, Liam, thank goodness!” Shallah cried.
Her face was a mess of tears and scratches. Her arms were bound tightly to her body by the roots, her hands poking through the weave. Liam crawled forward and threw his arms around her, but recoiled in an instant. She felt strange, her shoulders hard and rough like a wooden doll. He looked up at her in confusion. Her eyes implored him.
“Liam, you have to help me,” she gasped. “The others have all been captured.”
She tugged at the woven roots as she spoke. Her hands were gnarled and dark, like those of an old man. Liam squinted at them, looking in turns at her hands and her face, unable to focus.
“You have to free me, or I’ll die. You’ll help me, won’t you?”
He nodded. Of course he’d help her. He’d do anything! He looked up at Shallah. She was crying. She beckoned him forward and he let her take his hands.
“You have to destroy them, Liam. Destroy them as you destroyed the others.” Her fingers gripped his painfully. He winced. What was it she wanted him to do?
“Kill them, boy. Do it now!”
He found he couldn’t pull himself away from her. Her hold on him was too strong. She pulled him forward and he fell against her, his face pressed into her neck. It was like being pressed into a block of wood. Her voice rose in his ears.
“Scream. Scream out at them. Kill them all before it’s too late!”
His head whirled. Where were the wolves and Petyr and Raulf? Why did Shallah seem so angry with him? Why was she gripping him so?
“Don’t be afraid. Yell as loud as you can. Kill them. Finish them!”
Choking on his tears, the boy opened his mouth to obey.
“Yes!” Shallah cried. “Do it now!”
He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes.
A voice called out to him. It came from the woods behind.
“Liam,
no
!”
He turned to look. Shallah came into view at the top of the hill.
Shallah ran wildly through the trees, her hands over her ears, unaware of the blood pouring from her nose. She’d been jerked out of sleep by the cry of the oaks, the same overpowering moaning she’d heard the night Petyr had found them. Again the cry coursed through her body, seeming to come from the center of her own being, pounding in her head, blocking out her thoughts.
She could think of only one thing: finding Liam. She had to get to him before the oaks could claim him. Though her limbs resisted her, she pulled herself to her knees and crawled over to the spot where the boys had slept. One hand gripping her aching head, she felt around for them on the ground but found only their abandoned blanket. With shaking hands she searched in the weeds, spruce needles sticking her fingers. Still she came up empty.
They’ve taken them both, she thought to herself, dread soaking her being. All at once, Petyr’s departure came back to her and her heart sank farther still. How would she find them without him?
Another onslaught of moaning caught her off guard and she gripped her skull, squeezing her eyes against it. Without realizing it, she fell over in the dirt and rolled herself into a ball. She knew she had to find some way to fight the sound, or she’d be overcome in moments. As the crying bit at her mind, confusing her, she searched frantically for something to hold to, some idea, some thought.
“Petyr …” Shallah mumbled, her palms clamped around her head. The crying rang in her ears, growing louder with each moment. She clung desperately to the thought of Petyr, but the more she thought of him – his laughter in her ears, his lips on hers, his last words to her,
know
that you saved me
– the more she longed for him, and her longing only brought her lower. Her focus blurred and the stunning noise took tighter hold.
Her eyes rolling, she searched frantically for some refuge. “Home …” she gasped, for there was no place she longed for more. Trallee, her safe haven – flawed as it was – would protect her. Her home would see her through.
But then she recalled that Trallee was no more, and a wave of sorrow overcame her, as though she’d just been told of its loss for the first time. In an instant she’d lost all hold on reality. She couldn’t feel the ground beneath her, nor the warmth of the spattered sunlight on her skin, nor even her own panic. She felt herself beginning to drift away.
“Liam …” she breathed through parched lips, even as the rest of her being seemed to be melting into the earth.
Suddenly, every moment she’d spent with Liam – from the day she’d first met him in Betta Carberry’s yard, to the night before when she’d rocked him to sleep – came back to her in a staggering rush so overwhelming it broke the trance. She found herself once again aware of the forest around her, and the task before her: the task of finding the boys, of saving Liam. Though her head ached fit to burst, and her legs and arms felt like they were filled with sand, Shallah found she could stand the pain if she kept her mind on her goal. As long as she kept her focus, the barrage of sound couldn’t hold her.
Getting shakily to her feet, she began to move forwards.
“Hold on,” she whispered. “Hold on. Hold on.”
After a few steps she broke into a run.
The forest wasn’t kind to Shallah that day. She tripped repeatedly over logs and rocks, once getting her legs tangled in a mulberry bush. Picking herself up from another fall, she ran directly into the trunk of a maple tree, badly banging her nose. Ignoring the pain, she ran on, concentrating on Liam, oblivious to the danger. Only the lucky placement of a low-hanging spruce tree branch stopped her from careening blindly down the side of the hill. It caught her in the stomach and brought her literally to her knees.
The sudden shock jarred her and she lost her focus. In an instant the monotonous moaning took up at full force again. She bowed her head to her knees, wrenching at her hair with her fists. The ground beneath her began to retreat and she felt as though she were floating on a breeze. The world became liquid and fell through her fingers, dripping away like so many raindrops. She felt nothing but noise, knew nothing but this crying.
A snippet of Liam’s lullaby came to mind.
Suddenly, she found herself gasping for breath.
“Liam,
no
!” she cried and flung herself to her feet.
She could hear the wolves snarling.
The oaks were so tall and their line so long they gave the impression of an immense black wall. To regard them meant to forget that light had ever existed. The wolves alone were unaffected by the ongoing moaning, and paced along the oaken wall, jumping at the trunks.
Of course, Shallah could see none of this. Having scraped herself to the bottom of the hill, she stood with her hand on her scabbard, completely at a loss. The growls of the wolves joined the oaken cry to create a cacophony of tension, an energy in the air that she could feel but not understand. She could sense that the enemy was near, awfully near, but couldn’t tell how many she faced, or what they had in store. She called out to the boys, shouting frantically, but in vain, for naught could be heard over the dark oaks’ incessant wailing.
I have to act, she told herself, as though she needed a reminder. I have to save them.
But try as she might, she couldn’t make herself plunge in. A breeze lifted her hair as she stood motionless before her foe, her figure tiny in comparison with their towering height.
“What can I do?” she whispered under her breath. “Tell me what to do.”
She felt her resolve beginning to disintegrate and the wailing taking hold of her more and more. Emotions she had thought vanquished sprouted within her like weeds, feelings she hadn’t felt since Petyr had joined them on the journey and given her such strength. Once again she found herself cowering on the forest floor the night Liam had first been taken, her own failure looming over her, gigantic, impenetrable. Her old chorus of self-loathing began to ring in her ears.
Did you think you could save them? the mocking voice demanded. You are blind! You are
nothing
!
Hunched over with despair, her battered body throbbing, Shallah found herself presented with a choice. Though the wailing grabbed at her thoughts the moment they came into her head, and misery clouded her mind, she was able to see that she’d two possible paths before her. She could give in to her wretchedness and allow herself to be overcome, or she could rise up and resist. The first route, the easiest route, beckoned her icily. She could feel herself taking that route, falling down the slippery path of anguish. But at the same time, a sudden surge of feeling compelled her to turn back, hauling her down the second path with the force of its hard, furious, insistence.
Rising up in her newfound strength, Shallah lifted her bloody face to the oaks. “You’ll never break me!” she hollered, her hands in fists at her sides, unsure if she was yelling at the oaks, or herself. “I will conquer you!” she cried. “I will make you give them back to me!”
Her body tensed, she lunged forward in attack. She didn’t think to pull out her dagger. She didn’t think at all. Running blindly, she’d only taken a few steps when she tripped over a rock and went sprawling across the ground, badly skinning her chin which also began to bleed. The fall knocked the wind out of her, but also quelled a good deal of her rage, and she sat up bewildered, astounded at what she’d almost done. But she hadn’t the chance to reflect on her actions for long, for the rock had its own opinion on the matter. It started to moan.
Crawling over to the sound, Shallah realized it was Raulf she’d stumbled upon, his contorted body clamped into a ball. When she shook him, he cried out to her, which she took to be a good sign. He hadn’t yet succumbed to the oaks’ cries.
“Make it stop!” he pleaded, clutching her by the arms. “It goes on and on without end. It will drive me mad. Please, make it stop!”
“Raulf!” Shallah yelled, bringing Raulf’s face close to hers. “Do exactly as I say. Focus your mind and the crying won’t harm you. Focus on Trallee. Think of home and you’ll be free.”
“I can’t!” Raulf moaned, falling limp in her grasp.
“You must!” she cried fiercely, wrenching him off the ground and onto his knees before her. “You’re my only hope. You must do this or Liam dies. Do this or we all die!”
At this, Raulf painfully opened his eyes and regarded her, bloodied and adamant. His eyes widened.