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"Step into the realm, you're bound to get caught.
And from this worldly life you'll soon depart."
-- The Roots
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CHAPTER ONE
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She was waving at him the last time he had seen her. He didn't wave back. He smiled, but he wasn't sure that she had noticed.
He had been distracted by the young man sitting in front of him. As the car moved forward, he watched the passenger's broad shoulders and tangled blonde hair. He noticed the arm resting on the back of a young woman, and how comfortable she appeared to be with the touch.
The monsters briefly distracted him. He found himself impressed by their level of detail and the fluidity of their movements. He was even intimidated by the gleeful malice on their faces.
One boy wasn't intimidated. He was bouncing on his seat and pointing out the marvels in sight. A broad-shouldered teenager nodded at the boy's excited observations.
In the back seat someone else was making commentary. His audience was a young woman wearing a crucifix. He was pretending to be scared of the monsters, barely able to repress his giggles. She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help giggling too.
Their light mood wasn't shared by the third person in the back. The big teenager in the front must have known that. As they passed a dragon, he turned and looked at the unhappy passenger. It was hard to tell in this lighting, but a smirk seemed to be on his lips.
Then he faced forward. He pulled his companion closer. She didn't resist.
The unhappy passenger shook his head. He hoped the ride would be over soon. He had enough of monsters; enough of that other man's smirk and a young woman's bad decisions; enough of the skinny guy's jokes. Even the boy's awed declarations irritated him. He just wanted the iron bar to raise and the sun to return.
When the lighting changed, he first thought that it was part of the ride. When the monsters bent their shapes, he ruled it as a trick of mirrors.
But when the walls begin to circle like a whirlpool, he couldn't rationalize it. Neither could the others. All jokes and excited comments stopped. The big teenager shouted an obscenity.
Their seats melted away, yet the passengers kept moving forward. A boy began crying. A young woman prayed out-loud. Everyone was suspended in the air as a mist spun around them.
Darkness overcame the mist, but a small pinpoint of light could be seen in the distance. The passengers suddenly picked up speed, as if they were fired bullets.
Six young ones fell through a hole. And the monsters were waiting for them.
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"Tomas?"
"Um…"
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah. I seem to be."
"Okay, next question – what are you wearing?"
"Actually, I could ask the same thing of you."
Oliver looked down at himself. He no longer saw a Godzilla t-shirt with Japanese letters. He saw a gray vest with black buttons. Under it he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt of a lighter gray. Below it were pants of a similar color and dark shoes.
Tomas wore a more colorful outfit. A scarlet tunic covered his torso and arms. Near his chest was the blue symbol of a tiger. His pants were also blue. Its fabric had been sown by hand. A pair of boots warmed his feet.
Not that they needed to be warmed. Sunshine fell upon their location – a clearing in the middle of a forest. This wide patch of grass was surrounded by trees. Oliver and Tomas could barely see past the first ring of oaks. Which raised a third question…
"Where are we?" Tomas asked.
"Your guess is good as mine, amigo," someone else declared. Despite their situation, Tomas was automatically irritated by that name. He turned sharply, saying "Ben, don't call…"
He stopped when he saw Ben and his clothes. Or, rather, his furs. Some animal had died to provide the heavy brown outfit Ben wore. It covered his torso, but stopped at his armpits and right above his knees. Each arm was ringed by a leather band. And on his head was a firm cap, also made of leather.
Oliver and Tomas stared at him. He sneered. "Yeah, like you don't look ridiculous."
Oliver said, "At least we're not going to worry about lice."
"Whatever. Where's Charlie?"
"Over here," a fourth person spoke. They turned and saw a black teenager. Her name was Kathy. She wore a purple robe that almost touched the dirt. A slim belt kept it close to her waist. A white headband was above her eyes.
She was holding the hand of a boy. He was a grade school student among high-schoolers. His clothes were the simplest – a wrinkled wool shirt, matching pants, sandals on his feet.
"What happened?" the boy asked in a small voice.
The grimness on Ben's face became a forced smile. "It's okay, Charlie. You're here with me." He knelt and placed his large, calloused hands on Charlie's shoulders. "But you gotta be brave. Can you do that?"
Charlie sucked in a breath and forced his tears not to run. He nodded. "Good fella," Ben said approvingly.
The clearing was silent for a moment.
Then Oliver raised his hand. "Okay, who's for the 'it's-all-a-dream' theory? I know I am."
"That would be nice," Kathy said, "but…"
"'Cause last time I checked, there was only one sun."
He pointed skywards. The others looked above them. And, yes, there was not one, not two, but four suns of varying size and color.
"So therefore…" Oliver pressed his hands together, laid his head against them, closed his eyes and mimicked snoring.
"I like that idea," Tomas said grimly. "I don't think it's right, though."
Oliver lowered his hands and opened his eyes to show how jittery he was. "So what's your explanation? There was something in the fair hot dogs?"
"I don't know. None of us know anything until…"
"Where's Dawn?" Ben asked.
He had been looking around. The others did a quick search of the area and discovered they couldn't answer the question.
With this new fact apparent, Tomas checked his companions. They were understandably on edge. They needed a plan.
So he declared, "We need to find out if anybody else is here."
Ben rose to his feet, keeping one hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We need to find Dawn," he insisted.
"Of course we do. But we need information first. We should split up and find…"
"This isn't the Honors Society, amigo. You're not the president here."
Tomas needed a second to calm himself. Then he said firmly, "This isn't about who's in charge."
"For you that's always what it's about."
Kathy sighed. "Please you two, don't start…"
"I'm not starting anything," Tomas insisted. "I'm just trying to organize…"
"Don't 'organize' me," Ben snapped. "Especially not now."
"Then what do you suggest doing?" Tomas' voice was rising. "Spray paint an ethnic slur? Would that help?"
"Uh, guys?" Oliver said.
Ben pointed a finger at Tomas. "Don't you start with that."
"Why not?" Tomas responded. "You're the one who made it personal."
"Guys?" Oliver repeated, more urgently.
Ben pulled away from Charlie. Kathy tried to grab him, but he was already close to Tomas. The Hispanic teenager stood his ground, despite the much larger youth heading for him.
"When I make it personal," Ben growled, "you'll find my foot in your…"
"Hey, guys!" Oliver shouted. He took a risk and stood right between the antagonists. However, he was so insistent that everybody else froze and looked at him.
"This civilized debate is fascinating," he said with a tight voice, "but I gotta interrupt and ask you – should that tree be moving?"
He pointed behind him. They all looked.
And, what do you know, the tree was moving. It was one of the oaks at the clearing's edge. It was slowly turning. It crackled as its roots pushed the ground.
It wasn't alone. Another crackling noise let them know of a second ambulatory tree. Then there was a third. A fourth.
A fifth.
When the trees had fully turned, the youths could see a commonality in each oak. Two dark holes were situated above a long protrusion. Below that was a thin line. There were some minor differences, but each appearance had the same effect.
Each tree seemed to have an angry face.
Also among the shared traits were long branches, one on each side. They ended with four smaller branches. They looked like arms and fingers. They served as such when the trees lowered them and pressed against the ground.
With a shove they freed themselves from the dirt. Their roots kept them upright like a bunch of stiff tentacles.
The young visitors had watched this sight with fascination and a growing terror. The first to react was Ben. Without looking at the boy he extended his hand and said, "Charlie, come…"
The trees raised their arms. They opened their mouths – yes, their mouths – and roared.
Then they marched forward. Their stride was faster than expected.
Five young people screamed. Oliver and Kathy tried to bolt, but the swipe of a tree's limb blocked their path. They could only back up. Charlie ran toward Ben, not hiding his tears anymore. His protector could only scoop the boy and watch the circle tighten.
As for Tomas, part of his brain demanded a plan. The other part found this laughable. What could anyone do in this madness? What could any man do as he looked upwards at a wooden face full of hate?
One of the trees was almost upon him. It raised an arm. Then the thick wooden branch fell toward his skull. Tomas found himself thinking of an uncle's ranch. He had chopped wood for the first time there. Sheer instinct caused him to raise his arms and swing as if he had his uncle's ax in hand.
Next thing he knew, the tree had backed off. Its roar had changed into a scream of pain. Part of its arm was now lying on the ground, and the rest was leaking green sap.
A startled Tomas looked at his hands. He wasn't holding an ax, but a sword. A green sticky line was on its silver blade. He vaguely noticed that its golden hilt carried a symbol matching the one on his tunic.
He almost laughed. Everything had become so ridiculous. A scream from Charlie prevented his hysterical reaction.
One of the trees had grabbed onto Charlie's arm. With a huge shout Ben ordered, "Leave him ALONE."
Keeping one arm around Charlie, he swung his other arm at the tree's wrist. He was, interestingly enough, holding a mace at the time. There was a golden aura around the weapon.
It had the same result as the sword. It broke the arm into bits. The tree shrieked and bled sap.
Ben had a similar disbelieving reaction as Tomas. He turned to the others, as if looking for confirmation of the weapon in his own hand. Then he saw Tomas' sword and the other wounded tree monster.
The two young men looked at each other.
Then Ben held out his younger friend to Kathy. "Hold him," he requested.
She did. Ben faced the trees. He held his mace aloft. Its glow returned.
"Timberrrrr," he drawled. And, for the first time, Tomas was in total agreement with him.
The weapons felt so natural in their hands. They knew exactly what to do, though their tactics were different. Tomas was precise. He made sure that his blade would find its target. It left long, straight wounds like a surgeon's scalpel.
Ben missed a few times. But when he struck, huge chunks of wood would go flying. His first blow knocked a tree monster down. He ran alongside the fallen creature, swinging his mace upward and bringing it down on the monster's face.
Tomas didn't finish his opponent off. He simply cleaved it off its roots and brought the wailing beast down.
Then he plunged the sword into another monster. Before he could withdraw his blade, the wooden flank exploded. He jumped back, guarding his face against slivers.
He scowled at the young man who had just bashed the monster. "Sorry," Ben said. His grin said something else.
The wounded tree monster staggered back to the forest. Ben wanted to chase after it, but saw the last remaining tree. He advanced toward it. So did Tomas.
The monster backed up. It stopped when it reached the clearing's edge.
Ben wanted to finish it off, but Tomas said "Wait." His order was unforced yet commanding. Ben found himself keeping still.
Tomas pointed his sword at the last tree monster. "I don't know what you are, but you seem capable of speech. If you know our language, tell us where we are and how we got here."
"And where's Dawn?" Ben interjected.
Tomas nodded. "Well?"
The tree monster opened its mouth. The young visitors expected words, a plea for mercy, something like that.
Instead it uttered a deep sound that went past the clearing and bounced through the woods.
This was followed by a familiar crackling. Only this time it was copied from many directions.
Everywhere, in fact. Tomas looked into the woods and saw trees stirring all around him.
"Oh, man," Oliver groaned. "We're on its home court."
Tomas realized that they had only fought a platoon. Now they would face an army. Even with unique weapons, two teenagers couldn't win.
That's why he yelled, "Run!"
"Run?!" Oliver yelled back, incredulous. "Run where?! We're surrou…"
"Move while we have a chance!"
Tomas was right. They had to get out of the woods before the trees were fully mobile. They exited the clearing, leaving daylight for shadows.
At first, they seemed to have a chance. The tree monsters were still too clumsy, and the paths were still clear. They ducked and weaved around their enemy's grasp. When one got too close, a cut from a sword or a blow from a mace could clear the way.
Tomas kept checking the others. Kathy had Charlie in hand. She ducked under a swinging branch and kept going. As for Oliver…
He had passed one monster, but it turned with a shocking speed. It reached for him. Tomas began to shout a warning.
Then he could see nothing but oak. The monsters had formed a wall between him and Oliver.
He quickly checked his flank. To his horror he could see other barricades quickly forming and separating him from the others. The monsters had completely freed themselves from the dirt, and they wanted revenge for their brothers.
Through one of the few gaps remaining he could see that Kathy was trapped. One monster was pulling Charlie away from her while another grabbed her chest.
Then the monster upon Kathy suddenly released its grip. Its scream was so horrible that its brethren stopped and stared.
Tomas saw the screaming monster raise its hand. A white mold was covering its fingers. It spread quickly over its arm and across its body. Soon its wide eyes and mouth were outlined with the pulsating whiteness.
It screamed just a bit more before it fell apart. A pile of sickly wood formed on the ground. The sight almost distracted Tomas from the glowing object on Kathy. She was now wearing an amulet -- a smooth round crystal with a silver frame and chain.
This latest surprise left him unable to move. Then Ben came storming through a barricade. Tomas got his head back in the game and sliced through his barrier. The tree monsters made way for them and scurried back from Kathy. They didn't retreat completely, though. Instead they warily kept to a circle, noting the remains of their comrade and planning their next move.
Ben and Tomas reached Kathy. The tree monsters had left Charlie to her, but she seemed hardly aware of the boy. She was staring at the amulet. It had stopped glowing.
"Do that again," Ben whispered to her.
"Huh?" she replied.
"That thing. Do it again."
"I don't know how I did it the first time," she hissed.
"Act like you do," Tomas suggested.
She cleared her throat. Then, with one arm holding Charlie against her, she raised the amulet. She held it as if it was about to shoot lasers.
The tree monsters flinched. However, they didn't move back any further.
She kept pointing it at them with sudden, threatening movements. Each time she did it with no results, though, the threats got less convincing. Fear was leaving those wooden faces.
"I don't think they're buying it," she muttered.
"All right," Tomas said. "Follow me on the count of three. One…two…Charlie!"
The boy had squirmed out of Kathy's hold. He landed upright on the ground and began walking toward the monsters. Ben made a grab for him.
Charlie stopped him with a look. His expression had completely changed. There was no anguish, no sign of tears, no hint of a little boy's terror. There was only an unfathomable calm.
Ben moved away from him. The others shared his bewilderment and unease.
Charlie looked upon the tree monsters. They were ready to tear this child apart.
He held his staff perfectly straight…
…and, yes, he was holding a staff, nobody else had seen it before, but it was there, wooden, a little taller than Ben and with a curve on one end…
…and thumped twice on the ground. The staff emitted a familiar golden aura.
The ground began to ripple.
Tomas found another memory stirring. A science teacher once told him that a million insects could be found in one square mile. It was a difficult fact to believe.
He was a believer now. They were all coming out of the dirt – worms and ants and spiders and caterpillars and some bizarre things to be expected in a forest full of living trees. Tomas wondered if the monsters had established a truce with this vast population of critters.
If they had, there was no truce now. They swarmed up the trees, starting on the roots. The monsters tried to swat and shake off the attackers, but it was like holding back the ocean. And this was an ocean that had come to feed.
As they heard the trees cry, the teenagers couldn't help feeling pity for them. No such thing could be seen on Charlie's face. He stepped forward in expectation of a cleared path. The monsters obeyed, wanting to avoid the horde of insects at his side. Despite their unease, the older children knew a chance for freedom when they saw it. They followed the boy along the new path.
They kept going until they reached the end of the living forest. Once they were clear, Charlie touched the ground twice with his staff. The insects slithered and burrowed out of sight.
"Let's keep going," Tomas said. His fellow teenagers agreed and headed away from the woods. They were now on a dirt road moving through an expanse of grass and flowers.
Not that they were paying attention to such things. They were staring at Charlie. He still had a distant expression.
But then his staff lost its glow. He blinked. He looked at the older kids.
"Did I do something?" he asked meekly.
"You did something great," Ben declared. He picked up Charlie and set the boy on one of his large shoulders. Charlie was both confused and elated.
"He's right," Tomas said. "Thank you, Charlie."
"But," Charlie said, "what did I do?"
Tomas sighed. "I'm afraid that's another question I don't know how…wait, where's Oliver?"
Everyone looked around. Then Ben's face turned ill as he stared at the woods. "Oh, man, you don't think…"
"Maybe he's just ahead," Tomas said hopefully. He pointed forward. The road was starting down a hill. They couldn't yet see the hill's bottom.
They found Oliver standing there. A huge boulder lay near him. He was as motionless as the rock. He kept his back to them, even as they called his name.
"Hey, Oliver!" Ben said. "You wouldn't believe what just happened!"
Just as they reached the base of the hill, Oliver turned. He looked like somebody had just whacked his head with a mallet.
They stopped a few feet away from him. Ben said, "Uh, you all right?"
Oliver merely stared an oblique response. Kathy tried talking to him. "What is it? Tell us."
He stepped toward her. His movements were heavy, and his eyes were still blank.
"Oliver, what are you…"
He poked her shoulder. He poked into her shoulder. It slipped through her clothes and past her skin.
She yelped and scurried away from him. She expected to see blood on her shoulder.
But there was no sign of harm or anything else. She was speechless.
Oliver lowered his hands. He showed no awareness of Tomas as the latter gingerly got close, raised a cautious hand and pressed against him.
The hand disappeared inside Oliver as if he was a mist. Tomas quickly removed his hand.
Oliver began speaking. It was unclear whether he was talking to the others or himself.
"I kept running, just running and running, I didn't feel anyone touching me, I thought I was lucky, I had no idea, no idea until I stopped here and waited, I was tired so I leaned against the rock and I, I, I…"
"Passed right through it?" Tomas said quietly.
Oliver looked at Tomas, as if he had just noticed him. "It might," Tomas continued, "have something to do with that cloak you're wearing."
Oliver reached up and felt – this he could touch – a raised hood. It was connected to the gray cape draped over his shoulders and down his back.
His hand dropped to his side. His mouth was wide open.
"We're safe from the trees," Tomas assured him. "But…" He looked at his sword. He could see his reflection in the blade.
"…how we're safe scares me as much as anything else."
"Fear not."
A tall man stepped around the boulder. He was dressed in a red robe. Long white hair descended to his shoulders, and his wrinkled face was very kind.
"What you have are gifts," he explained. "They shall serve you well in this realm."
As he spoke, Ben set Charlie gently onto the ground. "Please forgive the abrupt way you gained your weapons," the man said, "and my unusual introduction. My name is Dungeon Ma…"
Ben charged at him. He pressed the mace handle against the other man's neck and shoved him against the boulder.
"What have you done with Dawn?!" he bellowed.
The man groaned, "Father was not welcomed like this."
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