Michele Israel Harper 3,000 words
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Camby, IN 46113
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Way of Escape
Michele Israel Harper
“Are you going into the woods to read again?” my sister demanded with a sneer.
“Of course not.” I rattled my empty basket. “I’m picking apples and mushrooms for the communal meal, remember?”
Her cold eyes said she didn’t believe me, and for good reason. The hidden Elvish glen called to me, and I could no more stay away than I could stop breathing and live.
My little brother clung to her skirts, his sensitive self trembling at her harsh words.
I hated to leave him, but if I didn’t escape into the woods, my soul would shrivel into nothing. I hurried outside.
She called after me: “Make sure not to pick the poison mushrooms this time, Sylvie!”
The door slammed before she could enjoy the pain her words caused, but I sucked in a breath as her words rooted deep.
I knew the poisonous mushrooms from the non-poisonous. We all did. It shouldn’t have happened.
But the Elvish liked to play tricks on us, and what had once been an annoyance had turned deadly. I didn’t know why, but every day I wished they would once again be our friends.
Not that I would choose to be friendly with anyone in my village…
Intent on my escape, I darted through the town that now stood apart from the woods with so much forest cleared. Mud squelched under my boots, and thatched huts drooped pathetically without greenery surrounding them.
Our gardens struggled to grow, unlike when our settlement was still one with the forest and we traded with the Elvish. “Cursed” echoed in whispers, villagers’ heads bent close together and brows furrowed. But their eyes followed me.
Heaven forbid they look to the squalor they’d made for themselves.
I walked quickly, head down under my drab brown cloak, eyes pinging every which way, hyper-alert for my fellow villagers. I did not want to cross paths with any of them.
I mainly stayed in my cabin after the incident. Even though I knew I hadn’t added poison mushrooms to the communal pot. Or, at least, they hadn’t been poisonous when I’d added them.
Unfortunately, Madame Rochefort stepped into my path.
She spit at my feet. “Curse bringer.”
I ducked around her, cheeks burning, and ran right into her companion, Madame Tremblay.
“Murderer,” she hissed.
Tears flooded my eyes, and I dashed across the clearing and fled into the forest—my solace. My refuge.
If only someone would come take me away from all this. From these people who hated me. From facing the consequences of my mistakes daily.
It was no less than I deserved, but the pressure was killing me, driving me into the ground and burying me alive. I didn’t know how much more I could take.
I stopped suddenly, breathing hard, and tried to calm my racing heart. There were dire wolves in this forest, and if I didn’t pay attention, I would become their next meal. I needed to keep my head clear.
Besides, the village lads were worse than any dire wolves. Should they track me, I would be taught the lesson they all thought I deserved.
I must not be caught.
I flipped my cloak from its brown side to forest green and moved furtively off the beaten path. It would take longer, but I didn’t want to be seen by human wolves, dire wolves, or Elvish hunters. Any could mean death.
Feeble, dappled sunlight danced across my skin, and I closed my eyes for a few steps. Sunlight no longer shone on our village. I often wondered how that was possible.
“Cursed” whispered on the breeze, and I hastened my steps.
I came upon the apple tree I alone had found and harvested from, and my jaw dropped. There, where plump, juicy, vibrant red apples had once thrived, dark black apples with an iridescent purple sheen now hung, dripping smoking liquid that hissed when it hit the undergrowth.
Holes had been scorched through greenery and into the dirt with each drip, and my heart knew before my mind caught up. Poison.
One more food source, gone.
With sinking heart, I made my way to the best mushroom patches.
I knelt at a thatch of ferns and dug around under their frilly fronds, then yanked my hand back with a hiss.
What had been perfectly good morrells were now death-cap mushrooms, fat and healthy and tempting to all who didn’t know better.
I sat back, mind whirling. I hadn’t been responsible for the poisoning! Several had died before the single poison mushroom had been found in the communal pot. Then the healers had gone to work purging stomachs before it was too late.
I’d watched in petrified silence, terrified they would remember I picked the best mushrooms. I hadn’t been outright accused—until today.
But I had more important matters to consider.
Without my contributions to our meals, we’d soon be banned from eating.
I had to fix this.
My feet led me toward my place of refuge, and I didn’t resist. I never did.
Too discouraged to read, I sat with my book in my hands and stared into the trees.
If I didn’t give the lads time to search for me, I’d run into them on the way back. And since they thought I was responsible for the poisoning…
Well, I’d never make it home, now, would I?
They never seemed to find me in the grove for some reason, and I thought I knew why.
My eyes drifted over the beauty I hadn’t found anywhere else in the forest, and my heart thrilled as it did every time.
There, on the other side of the grove, stood a vale that cut through craggy mountains, lush and vibrant and bursting with rainbows and waterfalls. It only revealed itself to me if I sat in this exact spot.
Rumor whispered that somewhere in this forest dwelt the hidden Elvish kingdom. Other rumors said that they’d fled our world entirely, but if that was the case, how could we blame our misfortunes upon them?
Besides, I felt such peace here, I was certain this was the entrance to their realm.
“Please, help us,” I whispered. “We’re not your enemies.”
But of course, as always, no one answered.
I’d only gotten too close to the mouth of the vale once, and I’d been driven back by such unexplainable, well, pressure, against my whole body, that I’d retreated and never tried again.
So I’d built a story, a fantasy, that I was protected by the Elvish, that they looked after me, and I rejoiced when I found food others couldn’t, because it further solidified my personal fairy tale.
Now I doubted myself. Maybe I’d found an untouched place too far for other villagers to scavenge, no magic involved.
But I loved it here. I found peace. I could rest. Forget how dreary my life was. And nothing—no forest creature, no evil Elvish, no village lad—had ever bothered me.
Which was why I didn’t believe my ears when tramping and curses and loud male voices intruded upon my sanctuary.
#
I dove into the undergrowth. A thick copse of trees, vines, and bushes made up my grove, and I settled deep into the foliage, holding perfectly still and praying with all my might not to be found.
“You’ve led us on another wild goose chase!”
“She was just here, I swear it!”
“Yeah, she likes to come here to read. Or so her sister says.”
His braying laughter had me curling my hands into fists, but I dared not rustle a single leaf.
“Where is she?”
“Probably picking poison mushrooms again.”
“If I ever get my hands on her…”
“When we get our hands on her, we’re taking her to the elders. Her punishment is up to them to decide.”
“What they’ll never know won’t hurt them.”
“No. We get her and get out before the wolves find us. Safer that way.”
Their voices tumbled over each other’s, and my heart clenched tighter with every word. I counted five village lads.
I must not be caught.
“Come on. She’s not here. Let’s check her apple tree and mushroom stashes.”
Another lad growled at the word “mushroom,” and I winced. Of course everyone in the village knew I found the best mushrooms. Of course now that we’d buried our dead they would come for me. I should’ve expected it sooner, really.
Maybe I should just live out here. My eyes drifted toward the vale.
Suddenly, strong hands grasped me under my armpits and pulled me upright.
“Found her!” He shook me, and my book tumbled free while I fought and kicked and scratched. But the other four converged on me, and with malice in their eyes, they bound my wrists.
I looked to my vale, and my foolish, foolish heart told me someone was watching out for me. That I only needed to capture their attention.
“Help!” I cried. “Please help me!”
The grove remained still and peaceful.
The village lads gagged me, hoisted me onto their shoulders, and carried me away from my sanctuary.
#
My heart despaired the farther we got from the vale.
“Let’s tie her to a tree for the dire wolves tonight.”
I struggled harder. They laughed.
“Hey, let’s tie her to that poison apple tree!”
“Sweet, sweet justice,” another said.
Their eyes gleamed.
I fought harder, but they held me still without effort.
“But the elders…” one feebly protested. He was ignored.
And then, howls rent the air. Their steps quickened, but bushes rustled nearby, and the lads shuffled uneasily.
“You take her to the tree.”
“No, you do it. I’ll go tell the elders we got her.”
A bush trembled on their other side.
“You know what? Good enough.”
“Yeah, let the wolves have her!”
And they dropped me and scattered.
I was left alone, on my side, tied up, head throbbing, surrounded by wolves.
Desperately, I twisted my hands until the badly tied ropes loosened. I ripped off my gag and was up and running.
Probably the worst reaction to predators, but I wasn’t thinking straight.
Howls chased me as I plunged into the foliage, and creatures ran just out of sight on either side. Dire wolves. My breath came in shorter gasps.
The vale. I must reach the vale!
I ran harder.
I was gasping for air long before I reached my grove, holding my side as I slipped into the forbidden vale, stumbling and tripping as I clawed through the pressure that kept me out before.
Vibrant colour burst forth the moment I pushed through the thick skin-like barrier I couldn’t see, and surprised gazes met mine.
I filled my lungs with air. “Sanctuary!”
And then the wolves were upon me. I curled into a ball as hot breath and dripping saliva cascaded over my neck.
#
Suddenly, a body was over mine, encasing me in a shield of pure golden light.
A wolf bounced off the shield and rolled away.
Lithe forms ran straight for the dire wolves. Bowstrings twanged, and yips and snarls preceded the wolves’ flight.
I stared around me in awe. Not only were the wolves gone, tall figures surrounded me, soldiers in gleaming armor, and I was certain I’d been torn asunder and sent to the afterlife.
They looked like the brethren of legend, the angels of scripture, the…Elvish?
I gazed up at the strong jaw of my protector and marveled at this unexpected turn.
But then…why hadn’t they protected me earlier, when I’d been taken?
“What shall we do with her?” said one in a tongue I should not have understood, his eyes cruel with contempt.
“Send her back to her village,” said another. “Their reckoning comes tonight.”
The one who held me had not let go, and at these words his grip tightened, almost painfully.
“Sanctuary,” I gasped again, yes, from his grasp, but also because it made me feel safe. He made me feel safe. The only other time I’d felt this way was in my grove, next to this vale, before the village lads had found it. “Please, I beg of you, sanctuary.”
Serious golden eyes met mine. They matched the shield of light exactly. “You realize should I grant your request, you can never return to the Mortal Realm. You will be under our laws, laws mortals have found unbearable in times past.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Nothing could be worse than my village.
“Anything,” I said fervently. “I promise anything. For sanctuary.”
The others hissed as one, sounding like spitting cats, but far more dangerous. One blurted, “You would give sanctuary to this mortal?”
He said the word as one would “piece of dung.”
“Silence!” the soldier who held me commanded, and eerily, he was obeyed. His words held weight, and I found myself pressing my lips together as well.
Disapproval blistered from the other godlike forms. His fingers tightened on my back, and I felt the heat from each one as if he’d branded me.
It was not unpleasant.
“There is one more thing,” he said.
In wonder, I gazed up at him and waited.
“You have to consent to be my bride.”
My jaw dropped open and stayed that way.
My expression was mirrored by everyone else in the clearing. It felt as if the breeze itself held its breath.
“What?” I said eloquently.
He smiled, just a quirk of his mouth, but it reached his eyes. And that drew me in more than anything else. “Only a mortal spouse may enter our realm. You will dwell in my house of wives, but you will be isolated, and you will work as a servant when not bearing my heir. It is a lonely and difficult existence.”
He had rendered me speechless. I’d never even heard of a man having more than one wife! Not unless he were widowed, of course. And a lonely and difficult existence?
I was living that right now.
My brain was too frazzled to even think about the “heir” part yet.
“You will be clothed and fed, and none will be permitted to harm you.”
One of the others made a strangled noise of protest, but the Elvish soldier raised a hand.
“It must be your decision. I will not force you. I will never force you.”
I glanced past him at the beauty I’d waited my whole life to see. From this side, gold and silver domes, spires, and arches peeked from behind a waterfall in the distance, and I ached to see it all up close. To live there, among such opulence, even as a drudge.
But I didn’t know if I could share him. Something within me rebelled at such a thing.
Our eyes met again, and his expression softened at whatever inner battle shone from mine. His voice dipped low and intimate. “Once you go from this place, the choice is lost to you. Sanctuary will not be offered again.”
I swallowed, then sat up. He helped me stand. I squared my shoulders and held out my hand. “I accept your terms.” We clasped forearms, but when he went to pull away, I held on. “On one condition.”
His eyes narrowed.
“My sister. My little brother. They need to escape our village. It isn’t safe for them there.”
His expression held sorrow. “The village is to be destroyed tonight. We can no longer allow the desecrators to poison the forest. It is dying, and pestilence will soon reach our lands if we do not stop it.”
I stilled, my breath caught in my chest. “The apples. The mushrooms?”
“I could not protect them for you any longer. The contamination was too great.”
I nodded, took a step toward my dream, then paused, glancing behind me.
“Come,” he said, urging me onward into paradise, one I’d dreamed of for so long—even if I would be one wife among many. Even if I would be a servant and essentially a broodmare. “They are already lost. There is nothing you can do.”
His words snapped me out of a compliant fog, and my spine went ramrod straight. I peeled myself free from his grasp and backed away.
“No.”
“No?” he echoed.
“No,” I repeated. “The village doesn’t burn. My brother and sister are free to come with me, or to live their lives as they so choose. Tell me what to do to make that happen.”
His quick smile reminded me of a cat who’d caught a mouse. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“My family is worth it.”
He stepped close. “As my queen, you will sign a new treaty with the Elvish, one that allows your people to live in harmony with the land, or forfeit it to us.”
He’d laid the trap, and I’d sprung it. I shook my head. “You already forfeited these lands when you moved into your vale and abandoned us. I will be my people’s tribute, but I will not give you their land.”
“Our land.”
I quirked a smile. “It was your land.”
“And will be again once we marry.”
“Not if I don’t agree. Which I don’t.”
His jaw ticked, but interest sparked as if he’d enjoyed that.
I’d enjoyed it myself.
“One thousand years,” he said. “Then I will strike a new bargain with my next queen.”
“You won’t need another queen once you have me,” I said, provoked.
His eyes flashed, and I got one knee-wobbling grin before he spun on his heel and snapped his fingers. “Bring the contract. You, see that the settlement is marked as safe for the next thousand years. The rest of you, back to your posts.”
He held out his hand. “And you, my bride, come with me.”
I took it and followed him in a daze.
Apparently I was going to marry the Elvish King.
THE END
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