"Emma?"
The voice carried to Emma as though amplified by the wind itself. It was Red's, and it sounded as though she was perched beside Emma at her place high in the tree, not some hundred paces away back at the makeshift camp they'd spent the past two nights at. (According to Red, they were only half a day's trek from Granny's cottage now, and it was a good thing, too. Emma thought the world of the girl, but she was a very... animated travel companion).
By no means had Emma found the tallest tree in the wood to scale, and by no means did it offer her the most efficient vantage point, but it was as good a tree as any and something had told her to stop specifically at it's partly hollowed trunk. Call it intuition, a gut feeling, or an urging from the wood itself; whatever it had been, it had Emma clinging to the thin branches at its tallest point with only the lightest of breezes to keep her company.
The dream from the previous night had replayed over and over in Emma's mind, slowing down at some parts, honing in on others. Never had she undergone a dream so vivid. Emma had experienced dreams in which she was struggling in deep waters, lengths from shore with no choice but to swim for her life; dreams with peculiar voices and sounds, high-pitched wails and mechanical roars.
More recently, the dreams had centered on a certain stranger, déjà vu; ecstasy and confusion had all played equal parts in the scenarios, the identity of the one with the starring role was never fully revealed. Nothing but her arms, her cent, and that intoxicating voice – yes, Emma was certain the dream walker was female – one she was fairly certain she'd never met in person. One would surely remember such a voice, such a scent, both full bodied and inviting.
Even in her dream she'd felt the voice coil like a snake around her neck, sending shivers down her spine. The walker's words were only ever scarce, yet filled with such unnerving familiarity that Emma dared not dwell on them too long in her waking hours, however tempted she found herself. Anything so capable of eliciting such strong reactions from her subconscious, her baser desires, was surely only a thing of dreams, a being that only the vast and vividness of dreamland could conjure.
"Emma!" Red's voice was closer now, more impatient than it was annoyed, "will you get down here? I told Granny I'd have you back by sunrise this morning. She'll be on the warpath! What are you even doing up there anyway?"
Emma looked down from her perch atop the thin branches, she could only just see the flash of that red cloak through dark wood and the varying hues of green.
"I'm scouting" she called in a dry reply, as though it was the most obvious conclusion to be drawn.
"Liar," Red answered instantly, her voice rising in both volume and impatience. "You're such a child; you saw a tree and you climbed it, it's as simple as that. Now come on, you nymph!"
The view was green, panoramic, with the blue of a large body of water beyond the forest in the south, as far as the eye could see. She could see no roads from this particular perch, trees obscured them from view as they did with everything else that lay beneath the canopy. Red had called her out correctly; she hadn't been scouting, she'd simply felt the urge to climb. If that was childish, then so be it. She was grateful for any instance in which she didn't have to look over her shoulder every five paces.
Moments of silence from Red told Emma that she was waiting at the trunk of the tree, tapping her foot most likely, a pointed lack of conversation to follow as she marched the runaway back to Granny's. Emma wouldn't be surprised to find Abe already there, if not only to avoid the risk of missing out on the sugar canes, carrots and apples from Mrs. Lucas.
The following few moments of silence alone would have been enough to alert Emma to the fact that something was off. Red rarely went long without saying something, even if she was trying to prove a point with her muteness. The bubbly girl always had something to point out, a retort of some description on hand. So when yet another minute passed without so much as an impatient huff from Red, Emma began a swift and silent descent from the heights.
The atmosphere grew ever thick as she closed the distance between herself and the forest floor, cloying hotter around her ears the closer she got to the ground. Emma drifted down through the leafy canopy, effortlessly manoeuvring over and around branches until one word from Red halted her descent.
At around two-thirds of the way down the body of the tree, Emma paused at the sound of her name carried to her in Red's voice, though the voice that had long since become acquainted with her ears met them this time with obscurity, shrouded in a hood of foreboding and warning of which Emma never thought she'd hear from happy-go-lucky Red.
She could feel it now, all around the tree in which Emma stood and Red seemingly stood guard of. Now that she could feel the full propinquity of the intruders, Emma wondered how on earth she could have missed them in the first place. Surely from her place atop the tree, their collective auras should have shone like the dark black beacons she could sense now. Their presence was unwelcome in the wood, of that much Emma could certainly feel in the wave of unease in the air around them. How could something so inherently unnatural have beeen so easily masked from nature itself?
"Emma..."
It was Red's voice again, this time with an increasing note of restrained alarm which sounded to be forced through clenched jaws.
Emma wasted no time. The balls of her feet met the brushwood beside Red with a reverberating thump, the earth seeming to shift to accommodate her. She'd landed some ways to the left of the brunette, whose cloak was hanging from only one shoulder, looking as though Red was preparing to let it drop in an instant.
Emma could almost see the dark-haired girl's skin thrumming in anticipation.
"Easy" Emma hushed, as though soothing a spooked animal. She took a careful sidestep to lay a palm over the shoulder still covered in red, as though she could hold the fabric in place should Red not stand to wait any longer.
"What are they?" Red's lowered voice was almost monotonous, flat and determined, battle ready. Emma's hand stayed put. She didn't have an answer to that question just yet.
The trees in the surrounding wood were very much alike. No two trees were the same, just as no two people were, but the trees of the Enchanted Forest were all hulking brutes, ten men wide and hundreds tall. In their current spot in the woods, the trees surrounding the women were spaced no more than a few long strides apart, creating a dense crowd that even in the encroaching light of dawn cast shadows in all directions.
The shadows proved effective spots to shroud someone from complete view. Emma could feel the intruders, only she couldn't see them. All of them, anyway. She watched as they moved in the shadows. They didn't dart about, they slithered with a grace that no looming figure should possess. They were huge, of this much Emma could sense.
Red could, too; Emma could feel her quiver in trepidation beneath her fingers. Or was it Emma herself quivering?
"Reveal yourself" she commanded with a steadying breath, taking a step forward with her flat palms held parallel to the earth.
To her surprise, she was obeyed, though the great grotesque creatures she'd been expecting weren't quite as grotesque as she'd imagined.
An average-looking man stepped out from the shadows, and although he was indeed huge, he would have been otherwise unassuming had his very presence not nauseated Emma. A lumberjack, perhaps, there was even the long haft of an axe poking over his shoulder.
His size wasn't his most notable feature. From her distance, the helm atop his head was the most peculiar thing Emma noticed. She'd seen palace guards with long white cloaks and silver-steel helms, faceless parades of men with black armor and spiked helmets. This man's had what appeared to be two short and sharp horns, dragon-like, curving back somewhat over his head before coming to pointed tips. His dark beard was clipped close to his face though his mustache obscured his mouth from view, and his dress was weathered and furred in some places, metal and armored in others and altogether bulky. It was a very cumbersome look. How this man could be the same dark and slithering presence she'd felt mere moments earlier, Emma didn't know.
Just as Emma was about to address him, the wood and bush around them shifted and neither girl needed to look around to confirm that the big man had brought friends.
"We have nothing of value" Red spoke up, and by caution of her tone alone Emma had to look over her shoulder to make sure the hood was firmly in place. If that happened, she wasn't quite sure if she should fear more for Red's safety, the strangers', or her own.
Red continued. "The Royal Pass and King's Road are farther west of this spot, there's nothing for you here."
They didn't strike Emma as highwaymen or raiders. This was a hit squad. Yet another one. Emma would have been flattered if uneasiness wasn't all she could feel. She was fairly certain she could get out of this one alone. But with a Red to worry about? Emma wasn't as sure.
A low rumble of amusement sounded around them, hinting towards the numbers of this particular force. A tense knot coiled in the pit of Emma's stomach, tightening like a wound spring with every passing second. In her mind's eye, she saw the power build like that of a smithy's forged blade; from a dim orange, rising in temperature to a glowing red then onto a white-hot gleam. It was ready for her order, to be unleashed at her whim.
Emma wasn't sure exactly what would happen should she let it, but as the man took a step forward, her insides riled and she found herself incredibly eager to find out.
"Oh, I beg to differ" he said, his voice like thunder. "She's right here."
Emma had to keep her eyes trained on the brute so that they wouldn't roll in their sockets. She was growing far from tired of being sought out by those she had no idea existed, who would use her as leverage or wield her in some way. Why she was such a hot commodity, she had no idea. Princess or not, it was becoming beyond ridiculous.
"Who sent you?" Emma spoke up before Red could, positioning herself between Red and the speaker as though there weren't threats from every angle. One at a time.
"She wishes to tell you that in person."
Emma scoffed. "If that were true, I'd be speaking to her right now, not her hired goon."
"She prefers more sophisticated surroundings." He seemed perfectly calm, bar the loose edge in his keen gaze.
"And I suppose my wishes are of no concern?" she retorted, caustic.
Emma thought she saw the twitch of a smile beneath his mustache as the familiar sound of steel against leather sheathes filled the tense air.
"Just put her out and let's be done with this!"
Emma heard Red turn to seek out the owner of the gruff voice that had spoken up, but Emma's gaze was still firmly locked with that of the leader. If she hadn't been busy staring down the big man, she might have missed the moment when the life drained from his left eye like a lamp being extinguished. A long feathered hunting arrow protruded from the right. She even heard the hollow 'ting' of the arrowhead as it passed through tissue to meet the metal at the back of the big man's head.
Everything happened quickly after that.