CHAPTER 22

SECRETS

There are many kinds of secrets.

Ones we keep to protect ourselves.

…others to protect those around us.

Then there’s the kind secrets people keep so they can do harm.

Secrets that allow evil to hide.

What you need to realize, is that secrets aren’t always meant to be kept.

Sometimes secrets are there to be exposed.

For once, Wendell wished he was someone other than himself.

Someone bigger, stronger, with more experience in dealing with seemingly psychotic and angry men, bent on hurting innocent people.

Jocks in high school suddenly didn’t seem so intimidating.

Leaves scattered as Wendell and Jan dashed through the forest, the sun slowly sinking behind them.

“They were talking about Elsa, weren’t they?” Wendell huffed, trying to keep pace. “Cause I don’t know of any other girls in the village that Sawyer likes.”

Then again, Wendell didn’t know any other girls in the village period. Not close to Elsa’s age.

The lumberjack didn’t answer.

Darting under branches, Jan kept his head low, scanning the ground for the tracks. He’d waited a good while before getting up to follow the trackers. It wasn’t wise to let men like that know you were following them. Luckily, the leaves in this area of the forest were moist and didn’t make much sound when stepped on.

As the trees thickened along a ridge, reenforced by wild berry bushes, Jan stopped to inspect a slight indentation in the dirt.

“Find something,” Wendell huffed, leaning on his knees to catch his breath.

Expert fingers used to tracking wild game for his survival traced the lines of the groove. Mud, pushed down, twisting a small batch of flowers into the ground. Jan grinned to himself, “They’re going back towards the village,” and he sprinted off in a new direction.

“Elsa’s in danger, Jan…” Wendell huffed, but keeping pace.

“Which is why we’re following these two. We don’t know what they’re going to do—but eventually they’re going to lead us to their camp, or to their connections, and then we can see what’s going on with our own eyes.” He stopped suddenly, just long enough to grip Wendell by the shoulder and give him a solid stare. “You with me on this?”

Wendell scoffed and nodded, “Of course!”

“Good man,” he nodded satisfactorily, “cause I don’t know where these two are going or how long they’ll be out here tracking those wolves.”

“You should tell her, you know.”

Jan turned to sprint off and hesitated. “What?”

Wendell took another deep breath. “Elsa. You should tell her. How you feel, I mean.”

Jan’s face scrunched into a jumbled mess, “What are you talking about?”

Patting him on the shoulder in passing, Wendell smirked. “Everyone knows you have feelings for Elsa. I think she knows too, but I’m not that smart when it comes to girls.”

Jan stammered, “But I—uh,…”

“All I’m saying Jan, is that you’re a good man. The opposite of what I see Sawyer acting like. You also know her family, know how to run the business her father built. You obviously want her to be safe.”

“Of course I want her to be safe!” he blurted out, though his face immediately flushed.

Wendell gave him a simple nod. “Exactly. So why don’t you tell her you have feelings for her?”

Jan glowered, “Shut up and run.”

“…I’m just saying.”

The tracks let along the east ridge of the mountains, several times overlapping the prints of wolves. There was little question that these trackers knew what they were doing. Wendell had to wonder if they would eventually become aware they they themselves were being tracked.

…and how talented was Jan himself?

Wendell only got nervous when the sun had fully sunk behind the trees and the last hint of light was about to vanish.

“I have no idea where we are, Jan. And you’re asking me to follow some professional hunter in the dark?!? Are you nuts?”

Jan pointed at the twin moons already pushing their way up into the sky, like two blue hot air balloons. “Stop your whining, we can both see just fine.”

“Then let’s keep following the tracks!”

“That’s my point, Wendell—this is where the tracks split up. One set goes up the hillside, the others looping back along the river towards the village.”

“And you want to split up?”

“It’s the only way to keep an eye on them. At least until we find out where their camp is.”

“This is a very bad idea.” Wendell frowned heavily, “You know that, right? Very, very bad idea. Not just for splitting up, but because I don’t know the first thing about tracking OR self-defense, and you’re sending me to both track and defense myself.” Shaking his head, “Defend myself.” Good grief, do I sound as nervous as I feel? His frown changed to a scowl. “That kinda makes you a bully.”

Jan rolled his eyes, “Says the guy who ran INTO a combat situation, grabbed a child from the clutches of some evil black shadow-creature, and brought her to safety.”

Wendell grinned. I was kinda cool. Then, “Wait, you believe me about the shadow thing?”

Shaking his head, “Nope. But you still saved her from a pack of wild beasts, which means you’re not a coward, so stop complaining.”

“I don’t like this literal side of your personality,” Wendell grumbled.

“Whatever.”

“You need a girlfriend.”

“Would you DROP that please.”

“You wouldn’t be so cranky…”

Jan rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand, clenching his eyes tight. “Neither one of us wants to be out here and you’re right—we don’t want to get caught. But we need to find where these men camp. Have a way to watch them. My guess is that they’re closer to town, but I want to be sure.

“So I’ll follow the tracks up the hillside. I’ve foraged burls in this area, so I’ll have the easier time.” Turning Wendell around and pointing at the ridge of rock, “That’s the main river that runs down to Putäyäl. If you follow the river downward, you’ll end up at the village.”

“What do you want me to do? Just go back to town?”

Jan shook his head. “Follow the river, keep it on your right side—but stay hidden in the trees along the bank. Look for a camp, tents, some sign of the trappers. They’re smart. If they’re up to no good, they’ll want to stay out of site. Camping near a clean water source, and a natural sound to cover your own movement is a smart move if you don’t want to be found.”

One of Wendell’s eyebrows popped up, “Is this experience talking?”

“Shut up. Make your way back to the village, but it’s cold—look for a camp fire. Try to remember something you can of the landscape—a marker—what the trees and river look like so we can find it again tomorrow.”

“That’s it?” Wendell asked, still somewhat confused.

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, maybe scare them. Rough them up a bit and put the fear of the forest into them?”

Jan squinted at Wendell, the corners of his mouth starting to curl. “The fear of the forest?”

Okay. It did sound kinda stupid when someone else said it out loud.

Jan patted Wendell’s shoulder, “Let’s meet at the Den, alright? If these men are intent on hurting Elsa or ANY youth in this village, there’s a handful of men who will want some private time with each of them, I promise. Just…stay there until I meet you. Alright?”

“Fine,” then with a grin, “If you take too long, I’m having dinner without you, though.”

Jan gripped Wendell’s shoulder, gave it a reassuring squeeze—then darted off into the darkness.

Wendell squatted down against the trunk of the nearest tree, the silence of the forest dousing his nerves like a falling clump of snow on his head.

Yeahhhh. This is a bad idea.

****

It wasn’t that Wendell was afraid of the dark.

He wasn’t.

Much.

What was in the dark, well—that bothered him quite a bit.

Anything could be luring about in the shadows. Bears, mountain lions, raccoons with serious attitude problems, badgers, wolverines. Wendell picked up his pace a bit, trying to stay more in the moonlight than shadow. But people tend to forget all the spiders, snakes, and heaven forbid, rabid squirrels who couldn’t find enough nuts for the winter and wanted meat instead.

Wendell walked a bit faster. Stop it, he chastised himself, you’re just making this worse!

Wolves didn’t sound so scary anymore. At least not after his last encounter.

Wendell took the shallow path, seemingly worn, slowly weaving through the trees in the moonlight.

That’s it, Wendell, quiet as a church mouse. Keep the river on your right.

His foot snagged on a tree root protruding from the soil, sending him face-first into a bush.

For several minutes he just waited, eyes squinted shut, too afraid to move a muscle.

Make that a mouse on crutches.

Striving to be as quiet as possible, he rolled from the bush and slowly got back to his feet.

Graceful, Wendellizer. Girls would be impressed, he sighed. So much for being a ninja.

Though both moons were out and shining brightly, the dense forest still enveloped most of Wendell’s surrounding in darkness.

A gust of frigid wind plowed through the brush, sending dead leaves up into Wendell’s face, startling him.

The mägoweave protected his body from the elements, of course, which he’d learned to appreciate when traveling to Til-Thorin with...

Evan and his family.

He wondered if Evan had found a place in Andilain, curious where he might be right now.

…and if Miriam, Evan’s mother, had forgiven him yet.

“I could have saved Hiram,” he whispered sadly, “if I knew then what I know now.”

Just as he stepped into the moonlight, a shadow jumped across the ground, causing Wendell to fall back against a stump. He froze, holding his breath as he watched the movement sprint away from him.

What the…?

Slowly the shadows arched towards the side of the cliff….and in an instant, was out over the water.

Wendell sucked in air in relief.

An owl, sailing silently over the landscape swooped down over the river, looking for a plump meal along the shore to feast on.

Wendell snorted.

Many things lived in the darkness, alright.

Not all of it was evil.

Night after night he’d had variations of the same dream. Dreams so similar to the one’s he had with Til-Thorin. Shadows and robes, reaching out at him. Clawing at him. Always telling him that the harm upon his friends and those he loved was his fault.

What does this all mean? He wondered.

After a few minutes he added, You know, this is the perfect time for us to have a conversation, Ithari.

Work some things out.

Get to know one another more.

…maybe?

Nothing.

The sound of the rushing river water had a strange effect on his imagination. Though the water produced a peaceful rumbling beat, soothing to his nerves, it was also loud enough to make the forest around him seem disturbingly quiet.

His gaze lingered on the stout trees, standing perfectly still in the night, unyielding against the wind.

Almost like breathing, with a hand over its mouth, for fear of being discovered.

No, that’s not creepy at all.

With each few steps, Wendell took a second to scan the trees. Not just ahead of him, but around him—squinting into the darkness, hoping that Ithari would give him some ability to see in the dark.

Wendell made a mental note to ask Chuck if there was an actual list of abilities the Ithari granted its hosts.

Or you could tell me directly, you know.

Wendell reached up and tapped the gem lightly in his chest.

Pssst. You do realize I’m talking to you, right?

Nothing.

Seeing in the dark would be nice. Maybe super strength and speed. Oh, and something like a spider-sense would be amazing!

He had to admit, though—even the small things he’d experienced was exciting in and of itself. The healing was probably his favorite thing of all. Knowing that Ithari was keeping him alive, so long as he wasn’t TOO stupid in his choices. That he could, at least in some form, heal others. Animals seemed to be drawn to him, or sense something about him, which Wendell really wanted to experiment with.

He could even employ invisibility to a certain degree, which was one of his favorite forms of magic when playing table top roll-playing games.

Then there were the elements.

Fire, water, some manipulation of electricity, and then…light.

He chuckled softly to himself, “I’m getting pretty good at light.”

He found himself tempted to expend his will and illuminate the area around him and dispel the shadows of the forest.

No. That was a bad idea, and he knew it.

The last thing Wendell wanted right now, was to draw attention to himself.

Hmmmm, he pondered. I wonder if there’s a reverse to the light. I mean, Chuck says there’s opposites in all things, so wouldn’t there be some kind of darkness power? A way to absorb the light, maybe?

It was a curious thought.

Another few yards and he stopped again to check his surroundings. No firelight, no sounds of people, no movement he could notice.

Nothing.

Hope Jan’s having better luck than I am.

Wendell had no idea where he was, or where he was going—only that if he followed the river long enough, he’d eventually reach the village.

Another few yards.

His hand wandered to where he’d received the wound a few nights previous. Though the skin of his shoulder had healed, a phantom remained.

The shadow creature was real.

What was that thing?

That’s what bothered Wendell so much. Not that it wasn’t scary, but rather it was somehow familiar.

Images of an empty hood flashed through his mind. Long, slender arms of a robe, the hems torn and frayed so badly the collective threads looked more like broken and gnarled fingers than cloth.

A cold chill ran up Wendell’s spine.

He shuddered.

Focus, Wendell. Focus.

The trees began to thin, allowing for a better view of the river below, and Wendell decided to take advantage of it. The moonlight cast a soft blue glow over brush and stone making it easier for Wendell to navigate. Finding a good opening among the trees, Wendell knelt down near the lip of a giant rock jutting out from under some of the roots.

Looks like a good spot to take a peek.

Peeking his head over the edge, he glanced down at the rushing water sparkling like diamonds in the full moonlight.

You did it, Wendell, he told himself. You ‘ran’ like the letter said. Got away from it all—even if only for a little while. It’s time to learn what you’re made of when no one else is around! Ohhh yeahhhh. That’s right, champ—you are MORE than you THINK you are! No one can tell you what to do, because no one knows where you are. Hah!

No one can…but he paused.

There was another side to this choice that he hadn’t considered in all of this rebellion and running away from his current responsibilities.

No one could come and get him OR protect him if something went horribly wrong.

Which it usually did.

…because of the choices he made.

He gulped.

Wendell also realized that we was the only one who could see the animated shadow-thing, which, for all he knew, had been killing villagers.

A supernatural or magical entity that was able to go unnoticed, move at incredible speeds, and had the ability to pierce his mägoweave.

His fingers slowly gripped the rock harder.

Another thing bothering him were the wolves.

With the experience he’d just had meeting the alpha, Wendell wasn’t convinced that they were the problem the villagers thought they were.

Was Bartleby right about the wizard and the ridge wolves? Were they here because there was an evil threat?

The shadow creature was most certainly a danger—and the wolves seemed to follow right behind it, hot on the shadows tail.

He gulped again.

In other words Wendell, you ran away from danger…and then traveled to a remote village where a monster dwells in the shadows, and is hunted by a pack of magical wolves.

Slowly he banged his forehead against the stone.

A village populated with people who hate magic, which you are trying to master…all on your own.

You clever, clever, boy.

Even his internal voice was able to drip with sarcasm.

Well it’s too late now, he chided himself. The trappers need to be stopped and that shadow whatchamacallit with them.

He peered over the edge once more, squinting through the dim light. The river rushed down a gentle slope, the water dashing against stones protruding from the ground, spitting bubbles and foam into the air. On the opposite bank, the moonlight revealed trees standing rigid and unyielding in their attention—watching over the shore of stone and sand below them.

It looked like the perfect place to camp.

But it was empty.

No fires. No tents.

Nothing.

What if we’re wrong? Wendell got to his feet and further down the path, weaving through trees until he found another area to peer over the cliffs edge.

The words of the trappers bothered him.

“Then we pay the tavern girl a little visit of our own…” they’d laughed.

Wendell clenched his fists tightly. All this for what? Money?? That’s just stupid. Why would you put money ahead of someone’s welfare and safety. Especially a kid.

Then again, he’d just returned from being chained up and tortured for odd motivations—and by a religious leader who, for al Wendell knew, wanted him dead.

Anything was possible when the mind was twisted enough.

‘Don’t be a sheep,’ he heard his dad’s voice clearly in his head. ‘People eat sheep, Wendell.’

“This is a whole new world, Wendell,” he whispered to himself. “A whole new world, with a whole new degree of crazy.”

But the longer he thought about it, the less crazy it seemed. After all, people were selfish where he came from. There was abuse, unkindness, robbery, manipulation. There was plenty of poverty, hunger, homelessness—and that included children. Politicians didn’t care about the people who elected them. They just said and promised whatever got them elected and gave them more power.

More control.

Wendell wondered…

King Robert III seemed to be nice enough. He openly cared about those within his kingdom—at least that’s what Wendell had personally witnessed during his short interaction with the monarch. Meeting Lady Tamorah had also been a pleasure, and she was both an Evolu noble and military.

Being associated with Chuck had opened quite a few doors for Wendell. His connection to the Iskari High Council didn’t hurt his chances either. But that just meant it was even more important to fight for those who…

Then he saw it.

A light.

Crouching low, Wendell ducked behind the nearest tree and waited. For long moments he started into the darkness, and then a flicker. A tiny light in the distance, just over the ridge, out across the waters. Wendell waited a few more minutes and it appeared again—yellow and orange, flickering.

Fire.

There you are. Wendell gritted his teeth in anticipation.

He paused.

What do I do now?

He certainly wasn’t going to storm into the camp. That would be suicide. He also didn’t have any authority—well, not any authority that would be acknowledged around here, anyway.

What do you think you’re going to do?

That was a good point.

You’re just supposed to discover the trappers location and then meet Jan back at the Den—not make some citizens arrest.

“Do they even have citizens arrests out here?” He pondered, then shook the thought from his mind. Now that I know where you’re camped, I’m going to make sure…

His body suddenly spasmed—arms flinging out to his sides and legs buckling as a large hand grabbed his collar and yanked him backwards.

Before Wendell could scream for help, another hand clamped down firmly over his mouth.

“MMMPH!” Wendell shrieked in his not-so-macho high pitch.

“Shhhh!” Jan whispered, then spun him around and patted Wendell on the chest. “Just me,” he added, his attention focused on another light in the distance. “Look.”

Pointing through a cluster of pine trees, the two trackers strut along the ridge further down the path. In the light of a torch being carried high over head, each man had a furry bundle slung over their shoulder.

Wendell nodded, his expression now calm, and Jan removed the hand from his mouth.

“Followed their tracks into the forest and found them checking on snares they’d set. Once they collected their rabbits, they headed back your way.” He patted Wendell’s shoulder, “Glad you were close to the river. Had no idea what to do if they’d found you trying to sneak up on them.”

Yeah, THAT would have been fun, Wendell gulped. “So what now?”

“Now,” Jan grinned wide, “we sneak in for a closer look. I’d like to figure out what’s going on.” Staying low, he darted off, following the trackers along the path.

Wendell rolled forward onto his hands and knees then up onto his feet.

…a whole new crazy.

The trappers continued in their conversation, though Wendell couldn’t hear what they were saying. Jan stayed completely out of view, hiding behind larger trees. Once the men were out of sight both Jan and Wendell rushed silently to the next bit of cover. The sounds of the river masking their footsteps.

Wendell’s attention was split. He couldn’t help but keep his sights on the flickering campfire across the water as they drew closer. Trees gave way to bushes, which covered a steep alcove at the bottom of a sheer cliff.

If he hadn’t seen the flicker of flame, he doubted he would have found the cave in the first place.

Strange thing was, the closer they got to the camp, the further away the trappers wandered.

When the two finally crossed a well worn path and vanished into the tree-line, Wendell grabbed hold of Jans arm.

Tha-THUMP-THUMP.

“Wait.”

Jan glanced back.

Wendell looked back and forth between the shadows of the trappers and the light of the fire in the distance.

“I don’t think we should follow them.”

Jan frowned, “What are you talking about? Their camp is probably close by, Wendell, we—”

“I believe you,” Wendell started, but something stabbed him in the gut. “I just—there’s a fire—over on the other side of the river.”

“So?” Jan started to move, but Wendell tightened his grip.

“So it’s in a weird place. Hidden. I can only see it at certain angles and it’s along the river shoreline.”

Jan just started back in silence.

“Shouldn’t we be looking for Sawyer more than those trappers anyway? I mean, they did say that they were doing something for him, right? Something that I’m thinking concerns Elsa—which is why they mentioned using her as some backup plan.”

Jan turned his full attention to Wendell. “What are you saying?”

Shrugging, “I’m not really saying anything. It’s just that if we want to know what’s really happening, shouldn’t we be watching Sawyer and figuring out what he’s planning for Elsa? I mean, what could he possibly be asking those men to do for him that he can’t…or wouldn’t do for himself?”

Jan’s brows rolled forward. “You have a point.”

“Besides, you can look for their tracks in this area when it get’s light, right?”

Jan nodded.

“So let’s check this fire over here.”

“But why this…”

Wendell shook his head, “I don’t know why, Jan. I don’t. Just—it’s a feeling, okay? Honestly that’s all I can say it is.”

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

Wendell gulped, “But it’s a strong feeling.”

Jan studied him for a few moments, then nodded. “Lead the way.”

The river was encased by two steep cliffs, making it near impossible to get down to the water. Water that was thrashing loudly against the darkness below. So they followed the river  until both sides connected by a cluster of fallen trees. Broken and burned, the giant trunks stretched out over the ravine.

“Looks like this is the best place to cross,” Jan hollered over the sound of the river.

Wendell peered over the side and shook his head. “I can’t even see the water!”

“Then you don’t have to be afraid of the height.”

Again Wendell shook his head, “But I also can’t see the trunk clearly, Jan! We could fall!!”

“But we won’t,” Jan assured him, grinning wide in the moonlight. He stopped suddenly, staring at Wendell’s shoulder.

“What’s the matter,” Wendell asked.

Raising a finger slowly, Jan pointed. “Your…emblem. The one on your shoulder, with the smiley face. I think it just…,” but he stopped, frowning. Blinking a few times, he looked away. “Never mind.”

Wendell grinned to himself.

Stepping up onto the cluster of trunks, Jan grabbed onto one of the dead branches jutting out from the bark and started walking across. “Just follow my lead, Wendell. There’s plenty to hold onto—so concentrate on the branches and everything will be alright.”

This is bad. Very very bad, Wendell. You know that. And yet Wendell climbed up and onto the branches after the lumberjack.

Don’t look down….don’t look down.

Hand over hand, foot in front of foot, Wendell worked his way across the massive stretch of fallen trees…without the slightest problem. Jan had been correct—not being able to see below them due to the darkness did help, allowing him to focus on the task of climbing.

Jan gave him a smile on the other side, then lifted a finger to his lips.

Wendell nodded.

Making their way back up the river, the fuller brush slowed their pace down—while making it harder to remain silent.

Watching the far side of the ravine, which continued to glow a light blue, they found the cliff area that had revealed the cave below.

The dense forest abruptly stopped growing, dropping off to the edge overlooking the rocky shore. The trees thinned out as well, a few jutting out over the lip of the cliff.

Wendell put an arm around a tree trunk and leaned over the edge. “I think this is where the cave mouth is, but—how do we get down?”

Jan knelt down, touching patches of leaves with his hand. “I’m not sure. If there’s a fire going like you said, there has to be a way to get down there—but I can hardly see. A rope maybe? Hidden path?”

Again Wendell felt to illuminate the area using magic, but an immediate knot in his stomach suppressed the urge.

Jan looked up. “Can’t you,…like you did when you rescued the girl? Make some light?”

“Do you think it’s wise, when we’re trying to sneak up on whoever’s down there? I mean, I can do it, but someone could be wandering around here for all we know.”

Jan stood back up and followed Wendell’s example. “Good point.” Wrapping his arm around the trunk of a small tree, he leaned out as far as he could, staring down at the rocky shore.

Pebbles of various shades of blue encased a rippling flow of blue diamonds winding along the twisting sunken path of the ravine. Keen eyes studied the landscape revealed by the moonlight, turning his attention to the ridge of the forest stretching out before him.

“I have an idea. Come on.”

Following the ridge further up the mountainside, Wendell and Jan discovered a small cluster of trees jutting out of the cliff wall. The roots of the tree allowed them to nestle safely  at an angle which provided a clear view of the cave.

“I think you’re right,” Jan said aloud, the sound of the river under them masking their conversation, “someone has a fire going in that cave.”

Wendell could see into the opening now. Even as far away as they were, both had a clear view of a fire pit, several small stools set around the pit, and a makeshift table deeper in. It was covered with dark shapes. Wendell guessed them to be tools of some kind, and they looked organized across the tables’ surface.

“Whoever has that fire going is smart.” Jan studied where they had come from. “There’s no way  to get a clear view from the other side of the ravine. Not with the angles of that opening. But here…”

“We can watch with a perfect view.”

“Exactly,” Jan replied. “Now we sit and…,” he clamped his mouth shut.

The other advantage of this angle, was that the moonlight revealed the shore leading up to the opening of the cave.

A figure stepped around the front of the fire and out into the moonlight.

In one swift movement, the lumberjack was up and on his hands and knees, peering through the brush and web of roots. “Sawyer,” Jan growled.

The giant redhead leaned against the entrance, casually shaving pieces off a hunk of whatever he was holding. Every few strokes of his blade, he looked out over the water, his face plain in the moonlight.

The scowl Wendell was so used to seeing was absent. Instead he had a thoughtful look across his countenance..

“He’s got to have a good reason for doing this,” Wendell said over Jan’s shoulder. “We might not like what he’s doing or what he’s done, I get that—but I can’t help but think if I knew his story…what’s really eating away at Sawyer, it’d be easier to help him.”

Jan’s head sank forward, his big hands gripping the roots in front of him. “You’re a good person, Wendell, but I’ve been working with this kid for years. He just doesn’t want to be helped.”

“Do you know why?” Wendell watched as Sawyer lowered the knife and stared across the water. There was no anger, no furrowed brows or gritted teeth. Just a blank and open stare into the night.

It looked a lot like…loneliness.

“There are some people, sadly, who can’t be helped, Wendell. But there are others, sadder still, who won’t be helped. People who close themselves off, for whatever reason, and as much as you want to help them or save them, they just won’t take your hand when they’re drowning.”

Jan looked over his shoulder to meet Wendell’s gaze. “Sawyer pushes help away—like it’s some form of weakness. And my best guess, from all the half-conversations I’ve had with him, is that the one person he wants approval from will never give it.”

Wendell glanced down in time to see the burly redhead turn slowly and wander back into the warmth of the cave.

“His father.”

“That’s my guess.” Turning back to the scenery below, “So unless you have some way of talking to the dead, Sawyer is going to have to live with the consequences of his own decisions.”

Not that that was a bad thing, because it wasn’t—but Wendell wanted to believe that there was always a way to turn a life around.

To win a soul.

But it all came down to personal choice…or ‘agency’ as his mom and dad always taught him.

It’s why we were created, his mom would say when times were tough and he’d have to make decisions on how to respond to unkind youth, to choose how we will act, regardless of the situation we find ourselves in.

Well, he reminded himself, there’s no rule that says I can’t try and encourage or influence others to be the best version of them they can be.

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!

Without warning, Wendell’s stomach heaved—muscles clenching so tight, his hand whipped out to grab one of the roots for fear of falling out of his perch.

“Wendell? You okay?” Jan asked concerned, one arm darting out to steady him.

“I…,”

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Oh no.

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Pushing himself forward, Wendell straddled one of the larger roots and scanned the rocky shore below.

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

“Wendell?”

“Something wrong.”

Jan frowned, studying the cave and shore. “Sawyer didn’t see us, if that’s what you…”

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

“No, that’s not the problem.”

A howl in the distance split the night air.

The lumberjacks head popped upright. “Uhhhhh. You’re not doing that, right?”

Wendell kept his eyes on the shore below. “Doing what? Howling? Controlling wolves?” He rolled his eyes.

“Sorry.”

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Again, the sharp pain tore through Wendell’s gut—this time streaking up his spine until it reached the base of his skull.

“Ugh!” He wavered, his legs going soft.

Jan pinned Wendell’s limp body against the root cluster with his forearm. “Woah. Hey—what’s wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know,” was all that came out.

Then he saw it.

Like black blood seeping out from between the rocks, thin streaks of shadow coagulated into a single shape…broken and mangled, the legless body dragged itself across stone and moss towards the cave.

“There!” Wendell almost gagged, his hand whipping up to point at the shadow form below.

Jan followed the direction Wendell was pointing and squinted in the moonlight. “Where? ….what are you pointing at??”

Leaning forward, Wendell grabbed the lumberjacks tunic and jabbed his finger again in the creatures direction. “It’s right there! Crawling across the rocks! It’s the shadow!!”

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Inch by inch, the shadows slithered across the shore, making its way to the mouth of the cave.

…just as Sawyer appeared once more with knife and wood in hand. Oblivious to the danger, he leaned against the cave wall casually and focused on his project.

No—Sawyer! It’s going to attack him!! Shaking Jan violently, “Please tell me you see this! It’s right there—it’s going to attack Sawyer!”

Adjusting his position, “I-I’m sorry, Wendell. I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s down there alone, carving…”

The shadow froze, stretching out like a wild and wayward shrub deformed by nature as Sawyer looked out into the night. The moment he looked back to his knife, the shadow resumed its motion towards him.

“We’ve got to help him, Jan. He’s going to get hurt, or…killed!”

“Wendell, there’s nothing down there. Calm yourself…”

No, this isn’t right. No matter what he’s done, I can’t let that thing get him! Struggling to stand up, Wendell’s footing gave way.

“Careful!” Jan snapped.

His legs, not wanting to comply with his attempted rock climbing efforts, forced Wendell to grip a rough root cluster near his shoulder.

…impaling himself on a broken root.

“Ow!” Wendell blurted out loud. Yanking his wounded hand from the bloodied root, he changed hands to secure a grip. Clenching his fist tight, blood seeped through his fingers and down onto Jan’s tunic.

Shifting his body to brace his feet, Jan tugged at Wendell’s hand and inspected the wound. Pulling wet fingers back, the lumberjack’s brows jumped, “Okay—time to leave. Even in this dim light I can see that’s a nasty wound. We need to look at this in some light!”

Yet the pain was already abating as the Ithari’s healing powers took over.

Tha-THUMP-THUMP!!

Wendell yanked his bloodied hand from Jan’s grip, as the shadow flipped around to stare directly at Wendell.

Fear clenched his chest like a vice.

Grabbing the lumberjack with both hands, Wendell frantically pulled Jan towards the forest.

“RUN!!”