Chapter 3 of the continuing saga of the Dream Knight, featuring Poison Ivy and some appearances by Killer Croc and Clayface. Rating is for some violence and sexuality. Also, I've gone back and fixed a formatting problem in the last two chapters; paragraph breaks will be more obvious now. Whoops.
Disclaimer: I do not own any DC characters.
Dream Knight
Chapter 3: Into the Green
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea,
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge,
"Kubla Khan"
With a deep, inhuman growl emanating from the back of its throat, the reptilian monster lunges forward.
Bruce dodges quickly behind one of the massive, ancient trees surrounding him. Keeping its trunk between himself and the killer crocodile-like monster, he breathes deeply and focuses his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the Cat Woman crouching among a patch of ferns, awaiting an opening to attack the monster.
She had warned him not to stray from the path through the Great Forest. It had been one of the few things she had said to him over the course of their journey. She told him that few who entered the murky green depths of the forest were known to return. But he had strayed from the path, drawn by the sound of a child's frightened cry, and now finds himself confronted by the monstrosity as the child, a young girl with pale green skin, pointed ears, and long, orange hair, watches anxiously from a nearby tree.
The monster leaps at him from his left, falling onto all fours and snapping its jaws as Bruce draws backwards just in time. He holds his combat boomerang ahead of him, unsure if it will be any use against its scaly green hide. Wishing he was better equipped to deal with the dangers of the woods, he backs onto the higher ground of an upward incline, assessing his chances of a jab at its face. Perhaps sensing this, the reptile regards him warily. Its movements suggest to Bruce a primeval, survival-oriented instinct, but its eyes seem to suggest a more profound intelligence. He keeps this in mind in order to predict its actions more accurately.
Her spiked whip drawn, the Cat Woman is creeping swiftly in a wide arc around the monster in a bid to attack it from behind. It is a risky bid, he thinks, since she is putting herself between it and a fast, deep river, with prospects of escape on either side limited by the thick foliage. Bruce feints with his boomerang, attempting to draw the monster's attention. It snaps its jaws at him, readying itself to climb the incline and maul him.
It leaps, and Bruce dives to the right and down the incline, narrowly missing a powerful swipe by its claw. It is a significant drop, and he rolls when he lands and whirls to face it. He hurls his boomerang at its feet, and it loses its footing and rolls down the hillside, snarling inhumanly. He draws another boomerang and leaps at it, plunging the boomerang down with both hands toward its throat.
But the monster is faster than he expected, and it rolls to its feet, knocking him from the air with its muscular tail. The wind momentarily knocked from him, he hastily raises his hands in a defensive posture, keenly aware that it will be of little help against the giant.
Seeing his peril, the Cat Woman chooses this moment to strike. Her whip wraps around one of its arms, and she pulls herself towards it with blinding speed, plunging her claw into the side of its neck. Roaring, it rises to its full height of more than two metres, lifting her off her feet. Her claw still lodged in its neck, she uses its momentum to swing herself onto its back. On his feet now, he grabs his combat boomerang and approaches it, hoping either to take advantage of its distraction.
Blood is pouring from the monster's neck, but Bruce cannot tell if it has even noticed its wound. Without paying him any heed, it charges backwards, and Bruce's gut clenches in terror as it impacts hard against the unyielding tree with the Cat Woman in between. He can hear the sickly sound of snapping bones under her scream.
Enraged, he bellows and charges forward, but the monster sees him and knocks him aside with its arm. He rolls towards the river, but stops himself and climbs to its feet in time to see it charging toward him.
In the split-second before it reaches him, he refocuses his thoughts and crouches low. It lunges too high, and using his entire body, he heaves it toward the deep river. Its momentum carries it in head-first, and he digs the scallops on his gauntlet into the ground to stop himself from being plunged in with it.
The current is fast, and the monster has now lost enough blood to weaken it. It struggles to reach the shore, but soon plunges below the surface. Blood darkens the water, and one of the monster's arms reaches frantically out of the river. He sees several carnivorous fish clinging to it by their jaws.
The current pulls the once-mighty reptile down the river to its doom, but Bruce is already running to the Cat Woman's side. She is lying unconscious at the base of the tree in a pool of blood. Her pulse is light, her breathing ragged. He can see that her leather armour is torn at her lower back, and there is blood pouring out. With shaking hands, he struggles to loosen the breastplate of his armour. He tears his shirt into a wide strip and tries to bandage the wound.
"What are you doing?" comes a child's voice from behind him. In his haste to help the Cat Woman, he had not heard her approach.
He turns his head. The small girl is staring at him, her wide eyes black as night.
"I have to help her," he says anxiously.
"Why?"
"Because it's my fault that this happened." He fastens the bandage tightly. Almost inaudibly, the Cat Woman groans.
She looks at him quizzically. "Why did you fight the Croc?"
"It was going to kill you." He is paying little attention to her, his mind racing. He fears the Cat Woman has broken ribs, probably internal bleeding. He swallows hard, knowing there is nothing he can do to prevent – No, he thinks. It can't end here! Not so soon!
"But why did you try to stop him?"
Turns to her and snaps, "I wasn't going to stand by and let you die, alright? Maybe I should have!"
She steps back, her lip quivering. He glares at her for a moment, then returns his attention to the Cat Woman. He hardly even knew this quiet, mysterious woman…
"If you want to help her, take her to the Mother," the girl whispers.
He turns to her again. "What?"
"The mother will know what to do." She points to the river. "There's a boat that will take you to her."
He looks. There is a raft floating in the river. It is made of branches, leaves, and vines, and seems more to have grown naturally than to have been made. He is certain that it was not there a moment ago.
"Who is the Mother?" he asks her cautiously. "Are you sure she can help?"
The girl nods. "She can do anything. She's a goddess."
He turns his attention back to the Cat Woman. At this point, he thinks, what is there to lose? Slowly, gently, he lifts her up, cradling her damaged frame in his arms. The elfin girl leads him to the raft, and he lays the Cat Woman down and sits beside her.
"This raft will lead you to her," the girl tells him as the raft starts to drift down the river, seemingly of its own accord. "She will know what you have done here."
This sounds to Bruce more like a warning than anything else. He watches the strange girl on the riverbank as the raft moves slowly away. She seems to disappear before his eyes, melting into the smeary greenness that is the rain forest.
***
He tries to meditate as the raft winds its way through the seemingly endless forest, but his mind drifts continuously to the ragged figure lying beside him.
She had been waiting for him yesterday at dawn, as she had said. Neither Gordon nor Alfred cared much for the idea of him travelling with the former scourge of Arkham, but Bruce had made clear that the topic was not open to debate; he had no reason to doubt her sincerity, and in any case, it was better to keep friends close and enemies closer.
Their day-long journey together was largely a silent one, since neither of them cared much for small talk. She had been curious about his origins, but he could scarcely offer much of interest there. When asked about hers, she had been parsimonious with details and spoke in a guarded, formal way, but he gathered that Gordon had been correct in assuming she had been trained by the League of Shadows. She had left the League, and they now wanted her dead; perhaps this is the reason for her grudge against the Shadow King.
That had been the extent of their conversation. He does not even know her name, he thinks, gazing at her broken, motionless body.
"That's how you like 'em best, isn't it?" a voice says over his shoulder. "Fragile, vulnerable, depending on you for their very existence?"
He turns. The Joker is reclining at the front of the raft.
"If you don't leave now," Bruce says darkly, "I'll feed you to the river fish."
"Oh, come on. We both know you can't get rid of me that way."
He glares at the clown. "What do you want?"
"Well, as you know, I'm a great lover of jokes. Something of a connoisseur." He exaggerates the pronunciation of the last word. "And you know, I've seen a great one today. Would-be hero hears cry of child in distress. Against the better judgement of his partner, hero fights monster to save child. Partner is mortally wounded in fight to save child, who, as it turns out, might not even be real! The comedy! The tragedy! Isn't it rich? Isn't it –"
Almost involuntarily, Bruce lunges at the Joker, seizing him by the throat with one hand and savagely pounding his face with the other. "Let's see you smile after this," he growls.
His eyes bulging, blood pouring from every orifice in his face, the Joker frantically points over Bruce's shoulder. He turns just in time to see the Cat Woman rolling toward the edge of the raft, which is nearly capsizing as a result of his assaulting of the Joker. Frantically, he releases the Joker and catches the Cat Woman at the raft's edge.
"Ho ho ho. He he he. Ha ha ha," the Joker laughs mirthlessly, licking at the blood on his broken face. "Well, I know when I'm not wanted. The Joker can take a hint. But since no matter what you do, the people you care about will always get hurt –"
"GET OUT OF HERE!" Bruce roars.
"– I look forward to many humorous encounters in the future. Ciao!" The bloodied jester dives backwards off the raft into the river. Bruce does not bother to look into the water to see where he goes. He focuses on the Cat Woman. I nearly lost her completely, he thinks, because I could not control my anger.
And he knows that the Joker is right, right about everything. But he does not allow himself to admit it. He returns to the lotus position and keeps his mournful vigil as the raft winds its course down the river.
***
The raft drifts into a clearer section of the rain forest. Thick green grasses interspersed with deliriously coloured flowers cover the gently undulating terrain. Enormous trees stand solemnly throughout the clearing, providing a dense canopy through which hazy golden sunlight streams. The air is thick with the fragrances of pollen and alive with insects of every kind. Somewhere in Bruce's mind, he notes that this is the most beautiful place he has ever seen, but in his grief he cannot appreciate it.
The raft drifts gently to the riverbank and stops. For a moment, there is nothing but the cries of the forest birds and the buzzing insects. Then he sees her, and his heart nearly stops.
She is tall, thin, and seemingly ageless. Like the girl in the tree, her naked skin is pale green, her hair is all the colours of autumn, and her eyes are black as the void. She walks gracefully towards him, followed by a strange, deformed man seemingly made of clay. Bruce watches her silently, cradling the Cat Woman in his arms.
"Who are you," she asks in a hypnotic voice, "who brings violence against my son, the king of reptiles?"
He answers, "I am a traveller. I fought the monster to protect an innocent from violence –"
"There was no violence in this place, and no innocence. There is only nature. Violence is intention." She glowers at him.
"Please," he begs her, "my travelling companion is dying. Are you the Mother of this place?"
She nods. "I am Ivy, mother of the wood, goddess of the realm of the living. Because you have sought me out, I will return your companion to life, even despite what you have done. Bring her to me."
Gently, Bruce lifts the Cat Woman into his arms, carries her slowly from the raft and lays her in the grass before Ivy, who kneels and kisses her softly on the lips. Slowly, the Cat Woman's breathing quickens, and vines begin to grow beneath her, twisting around and enveloping her prone, damaged body in a green cocoon. The cocoon rises up until it is about a metre from the ground, supported by thick green stalks. Flowers emerge from the cocoon, attracting some nearby butterflies.
"There she shall remain until her wounds are healed and her health is restored," Ivy says. The clay man is behind her, watching with interest.
Bruce bows his head. "I'm deeply in your debt, my lady. If I can repay it, tell me how, and I will."
Folding her arms across her breasts, she says, "For the moment, there is nothing you can offer me. You may stay in my garden. You will find all that you need within. But do not take more than you need, and commit no further violence within my realm."
She turns and walks away. The clay man stares at Bruce a moment longer with strange, milky eyes, and then shambles after Ivy.
Bruce sighs a deeps sigh of relief and sits next to the cocoon. He imagines that he can hear the Cat Woman breathing within. I've been lucky today, he thinks. I nearly lost her.
He lies on the soft grass and stares at the canopy overhead. It seems to swirl before his eyes. He blinks heavily, inhaling the intoxicating perfumes of the garden, and soon falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.
***
When he opens his eyes, the clay man is standing over him, staring inquisitively.
Bruce starts, raising his arms in a defensive stance. The clay man jumps backwards and says in a gravelly voice, "Don't hurt me!"
He sits up, facing the earthy figure. His body is grey and grainy, and seems to flow when he moves. His eyes are sunken, his face featureless, with a mouth that leaves strands of muck when it opens and closes. He asks the clay man, "What are you?"
"My name is Hagen," he says. "What is your name?"
"Bruce."
"Believe it or not, Bruce," he says quietly, "I was once a man like you. An adventurer. I came here in search of the treasures of a lost city."
Bruce narrows his eyes. "What happened to you?"
Hagen looks nervously from side to side. "It was her. She trapped me here."
"Ivy?"
"Shh! She has ears everywhere!"
This has to be some kind of trick, Bruce thinks. "Trapped you here?"
"Yes! I know what you must be thinking. You're thinking this is paradise. You're thinking Ivy is the most beautiful woman who ever lived, and all you want to do is take her in your arms and –"
"Hagen," Bruce says firmly, conscious that this may be a test from Ivy, "what's your point?"
Hagen opens and closes his mouth with a smacking sound. "Well, that's all what I thought, too. I thought I'd stumbled upon paradise, too, and Ivy – well, she wanted me to be her companion. And of course I said yes. And we made love. Oh, so many times…"
The thought of this disgusting creature even touching the goddess makes Bruce's stomach turn, but he says nothing.
"Anyway, it was all a lie! The whole time, she was draining me! She made me like this! She… she was digesting me!"
Could he be telling the truth? Bruce wonders. It's all so beautiful. It does seem too good to be true…
"And so you're warning me?"
"Yes!" Hagen says. "And I'm asking you to come with me. I'm going to escape!"
"I can't," Bruce tells him, putting a hand on the cocoon.
Hagen looks at it, then says, "We'll take her with us! She should be fine; it's been almost a whole day. She'd heal fast. But we have to take her, too, because otherwise Ivy won't let us leave. It's our only chance!"
Almost a whole day? Bruce looks at the canopy. Indeed, it was evening when he arrived, and the sun is nearly directly overhead. But how…
"So, will you come with me? We need to go now, before she realizes!"
Bruce pauses. If Hagen is lying, he thinks, escaping with him could invoke Ivy's wrath. Who knows what she's capable of, he thinks. Then again, if he does nothing and Hagen is telling the truth, he could be trapped here forever with Ivy and the Cat Woman. The concept somehow does not seem unappealing.
He looks at the cocoon. Last time I took a chance, she paid the price, he realizes. To the anxious Hagen, he says, "No. I'm staying here."
"You can't!" Hagen exclaims. "You'll regret it! You'll –"
"Hagen!" a female voice echoes through the garden. The clay man whirls to see Ivy emerging from the woods, anger emanating from her perfect features.
"Mistress!" he says. "I was… I was just…"
He falls to his knees before the goddess, who says accusingly, "Are you so jealous of me, Hagen, that you would sooner lead them away than share my garden?"
"It's not that, mistress!"
"Fool! You talk of escaping; how many times have you begged to be with me? You know that you may leave anytime at your will by eating of the pomegranate!"
Hagen whines, "I know, mistress, but…"
Something glows within her eyes, and a powerful wind shakes the trees and draws a cloud across the sun. "Did you want to spare them your fate? For a hundred summers you have dwelt with me here, but now, in the autumn of your life, you seek escape? Was it such a wretched time for you?"
"Mistress…"
"If you wish to leave, go now! I tire of you." She folds her arms, regarding him scornfully.
"I… I don't want to go, mistress! I need you! Please, don't make me leave!" He falls on his face.
She points a long finger at him and says, "Your time is over, Hagen!" And he screams, and his scream becomes a gurgle as he disintegrates. Soon, only a shapeless pile of clay remains. Bruce looks on in muted horror, saying nothing in case she turns her wrath on him.
Ivy turns to him. "A pitiable man," she tells him. "He was like you once, you know; bold and reckless, possessed by misguided notions of greatness. Ultimately, he could not accept that his time had come."
He looks at the clay, wondering how much of what Hagen had told him was true. "So he was your consort?"
She steps closer to him, and her heady scent fills his nostrils. "I take many lovers," she tells him, pressing herself against him. "The bounties of nature are there for those who will partake of them."
Struggling against delirium, he steps back, understanding dawning belateldly. "That's why I'm here, isn't it? Your old mate was going to die, and you need a new one!"
She puts her hand on his face. Her touch is electric, and he half-heartedly draws back. "Yes," she whispers, "I did lure you here. You fascinate me. You are a stranger to this land."
Glancing at the cocoon, he stammers, "I… I can't…"
"You care so much for this one without even knowing her name?" She pauses, smiling wryly. "It is no matter. She can remain with us. She will be one with us. Does that excite you?"
It does very much, he thinks, staring into the blackness of her eyes. Her nearness is overwhelming. Struggling, he manages, "The Shadow King… I must bring justice and freedom to Gotham…"
"Justice?" she mocks. "You are so like the one you seek to destroy. And from what could you want freedom? One day with me will bring you more happiness than a thousand out there in the land of the dead."
She rests her arms on his shoulders, crossing them behind his head, and kisses him deeply, tasting sweet as the most succulent fruit. Powerless to resist, he returns her kiss.
"Remove your armour," she commands, and he hastily disrobes, then kisses her again, caressing her perfect body. He lays her down in the grasses, and she begins to sing. It is a wordless song, but he understands it nonetheless. She sings of the sea and the sun, and their love which brought forth the life which grows upon the earth. She sings of a damaged, broken city of glass and steel whose inhabitants owned the world, but traded it all for a perfect garden; of a lowly herd-maiden given the power of life itself. She sings of the anaconda sliding into the river, of the hummingbird tasting the nectar of the new blossom, of the insect drawn into the pitcher-plant to die. She sings of the healing rain falling upon the land and among the trees; of the lost orphan-boy finally released from his pain. She sings the contours of the land, the vicissitudes of the sky, the depths of the sea, the passion of the fire. She sings of the lightning, the wild hurricane, the primal, terrible, beautiful struggle for life. And she sings the flood which comes from on high and dissolves all the world into ecstatic nothingness.
***
Days come and go, each one hardly even entering Bruce's consciousness. Living in the garden with Ivy is pure bliss. He can sense the vitality of the garden; it is like an energy that surrounds and embraces him. There are delicious fruits all around, and hearty vegetables; dates and honey are only a tree-climb away. Ivy has him tending the garden now, and the simple act of nurturing living things and seeing them grow gives him more joy than he had ever thought possible. He even witnessed the hatching of an egg from which a tiny, delicate version of the reptile monster crawled forth!
"In the land of the living, all things are made new again," Ivy had said – beautiful, radiant Ivy with her welcoming eyes. Each time they consummate their union is better than the last. Bruce smiles to himself, thinking of her verdant scent, her blissful embrace.
He walks along the riverside, reflecting on his happy condition. Yes, he was truly fortunate that Ivy saw fit to bring him here. He does not dream of dark cities and moon-bats anymore, nor does the Joker intrude upon his life. He does not even feel the need to meditate anymore. Why do I need the bliss of Samadhi, he thinks, when I have found true happiness here?
He knows, of course, that someday he will be like Hagen, weak and drained of vitality. Somehow, though, this does not bother him. Death is inevitable, he thinks, so why not enjoy paradise while I am living?
If there is one thing he misses from his old life, it is companionship. True, he has Ivy, but she is often aloof and distant. This is no surprise, he thinks; what has a man to talk about with a goddess? He thinks of Alfred and Gordon, and half-wonders whether he should return to Arkham and bring them here.
Then there is the Cat Woman. He wanders to the cocoon, wondering if she is finally ready to emerge. As if reading his mind, Ivy is already there beside it.
"You are lonely," she observes.
He nods. "I'd like a companion to share my joys with."
Something like uncertainty crosses her face momentarily. "As have many of my consorts. It is something that I have never fully understood. Am I not companionship enough?"
"You are the joy of my life," Bruce assures her. "Even if I only had you, I would still be happier than if I had everything else in the world. It's just… it would be nice to have human contact now and then."
She nods. "Perhaps that is something I can no longer understand. But let us wake her." She lays a hand on the cocoon, and it stirs, and the vines begin to fall away, revealing the Cat Woman, healthy and naked. Bruce is surprised; it is the first time he has seen her without her armour. She is pale, with a lithe body, small breasts, and short, wavy black hair. Her features are striking, and she seems to glow, possibly as a result of Ivy's healing.
"Arise," Ivy whispers, and the Cat Woman opens her green eyes. Disoriented, she looks first at Ivy, then Bruce, then herself. Confused, she ventures, "Why are we all naked?" Meeting his eyes, she asks, "Dream Knight?"
It is a name that he had all but forgotten. He tells her, "We are in Ivy's garden, in paradise."
Shocked, she stammers, "Am… am I dead?"
He smiles. "No. You were hurt fighting the reptile king, but she restored your health."
She sits up, covering her breasts with one arm, and notices her armour rolled up in the cocoon by her feet.
"There is no need for that in here, my daughter," Ivy tells her. "There are no secrets among us here."
Uncomfortable, she looks at Bruce. "What's going on?"
He smiles reassuringly. "I've found real happiness, and I want to share it with you."
She climbs out of the cocoon. "What are you talking about?" Then, looking at Ivy again, her eyes widen. "Ohh… you! I know who you are! You're the Siren of the Wood! You're the one they call Poison Ivy!"
Ivy smiles. "I am known by many names."
Looking back at Bruce, "Dream Knight, we need to get out of here!"
"Why?" he asks, confused by her distress.
"Because people get trapped in here and are never heard from again!" She purses her lips. "The child in the woods! It was all a trap to lure us in here!"
He walks toward her. "Call it what you like. I've found more joy here than I've ever known. Why would I want to leave?"
She scowls. "But the Shadow King! You are the Dream Knight. Don't forget your destiny!"
"What's destiny?" Questions begin to appear in his mind. No, he thinks, I can never return to the realm of the dead.
She points at Ivy. "This witch is controlling your mind. Fight it!"
Ivy regards her with a knowing smile. "I have cast no magic upon him, my daughter. I have given him everything he has ever wanted. And I can do the same for you."
"I doubt that." She folds her arms, staring defiantly at the goddess.
"Do you? Tell me, daughter, what is it that you desire? Riches? Power? Lovers? Companionship? You can have all of these things here and more."
"I desire revenge," the Cat Woman declares. "Revenge against the Shadow King."
Ivy frowns, and the garden darkens. "Then there is no place for you in my garden."
Bruce approaches the Cat Woman, saying, "Think about what you're doing. We can have happiness here! That's what I want for us."
"That's what you want?" she says scornfully. "You'd turn your back on Gotham, and run from your destiny? I didn't think you were such a coward."
Bruce feels as if he has been struck. Ivy says, "Your honour and shame do not impress me, and I laugh at your notions of good and evil. Do not be fooled by these, Bruce; they are constructs of the land of the dead."
Agitated, Bruce looks between the two women. He longs desperately to be with Ivy, wants nothing more than to feel her touch once more, but somehow the words of the Cat Woman stir something deep within him. Somehow, without justice, without good and evil, his very existence seems hollow.
"Can you really have happiness at the expense of the people of Gotham?" the Cat Woman asks him, her words cutting deep.
"No," he forces himself to say, wanting to scream Yes! "I am the Dream Knight, and I must fulfill my destiny."
Ivy looks disdainfully at them. "Very well," she says. "Then take of the fruit of the dead, and go to the river. You will leave this place and never return."
The remains of the cocoon change into a tree, and from the tree, two pomegranates grow. The Cat Woman takes one of them and bites into it. Bruce stares at Ivy desperately. It is all he can do not to cry to her, to beg her to allow him to stay.
She says to him, "Your curse shall be the memory of this place, of what you had and lost. Know that you will one day make this decision again, and it will be no less painful to you." To the Cat Woman, "And you do not know what you are rejecting. It is better to be a slave in the land of the living than a queen in the realm of the dead."
His hand shaking, Bruce takes the pomegranate and eats it. It tastes vile to him, and he can no longer feel the vitality of the garden. The tree withers and splits open, revealing his mirrored armour and boomerangs. It shines as if new, and the shirt he tore is whole once again.
When he looks back, Ivy is gone. The garden feels cold, and he shivers. The Cat Woman is already donning her armour. Sadly, he does the same.
"Let's get out of here," she says to him. "This place bothers me."
He cannot bring himself to reply to her, and leads her silently to the river, keeping his eyes to the ground so he does not see the beauty of the garden. The raft is on the riverbank, and a wizened old crone sits on it, holding a wooden paddle. She has the same green skin and black eyes as Ivy, but her hair is brown, like dead leaves. She says nothing as they climb onto the raft.
The crone begins to row, and somehow they are moving swiftly upstream. Bruce allows himself one last look into the garden as they go. He feels as though his heart is being torn from his chest. There are tears in his eyes, and he forces himself to close them, knowing that he will never look upon paradise again.
***
They make the trip up the river in silence; the Cat Woman can sense his anguish, he guesses, and says nothing. He breathes slowly and recites mantras over and over again, struggling to erase from his mind the memory of lying in the green with Ivy.
The raft moves with unnatural speed against the current, and soon the forest begins to thin and the stars can be seen through the canopy. Finally, the crone speaks.
"From here you may walk to the mountains, for they are less than a day away. Follow the old road, and you will soon find the wandering exile you seek."
"Our thanks to you," Bruce says softly.
The crone continues, "Know this: none can leave the Northlands without the permission of the old man of the mountains, the cryomancer known as Grandfather Freeze. You must also seek him, and he does not bargain easily."
"We will seek him as well."
"Here, Dream Knight, take this. It is a gift from Ivy." She holds a folded piece of multicoloured cloth. He accepts and unfolds it. It is a cape made of a dense, silken material, mottled with deep greens, reds, and golds.
"This will protect you from the heat of the flame and the chill of the arctic wind," she tells him. "But it will also serve to remind you of what you left behind."
He stares into the crone's eyes; they are Ivy's eyes. She then turns to the Cat Woman, saying, "For you, woman with the heart of the solitary jaguar, there is nothing."
The Cat Woman's lips are tight, and she stands and climbs onto the riverbank. They are now in an open field just outside of the wood. In the distance, the mountains are black against the night sky, and a dirt road stretches out towards them.
Bruce disembarks from the raft and dons the cape. The crone turns the raft and paddles back downstream, disappearing into the depths of the rain forest. He stares after her for a long moment before feeling a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," the Cat Woman says, "I know that must have been hard for you."
There is a warmth to her that was absent before, a change in her way of speaking to him. He turns to her, saying, "I'll get over it. I'll just need time."
She smiles at him, and he realizes it is something he has never seen on her before. "I heard her call you Bruce. Is that your name?"
"Yes," he says softly.
"Mine is Selina. I guess we've seen each other without our masks now, and without our armour." She glances at his body.
Bruce manages a smile. "I guess we have."
"Listen," she says, "I'm sorry about calling you a coward back there. Leaving that behind takes more courage than I…"
"It's fine," he interrupts her, not wanting his mind to return to that place. "You said what you had to say. I understand. I should have listened to you in the first place and not gone into the woods."
"Well, we're both here now." She pauses for a moment, and he stares into her eyes. They are green as the garden, green as paradise.
Then she looks away. "Come on, we should go. I know that there's an abandoned farmhouse near the mountains that some of my old gang are using. We can get shelter and provisions there before we enter the Northlands."
"Lead the way," he tells her.
They walk down the road. The pain of separation from Ivy is intense, but he can feel it slowly receding like the forest behind them.
Maybe Ivy was wrong, he thinks, staring at the woman walking before him. Maybe I will know paradise again.
A chill wind blows from the mountains looming before them in the night.
