Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

searching for the source of his unease. Nothing moved in the glade or among the trees, but the surrounding shadows were very dark. Jack reached out for the communion of the Forest, but his inner sense was ominously silent. Something had come between him and the trees. It was out there somewhere, watching him. He could feel it. Something slow and determined was stirring in the darkness, gathering its strength. It watched with a predator’s eyes and bided its time. Jack drew the knife from his boot. And then, finally, he looked up.
    The clear blue of the sky was darkening into night. The sun grew dim and red and faded away. Night fell. Jack whimpered softly. Day couldn’t turn so quickly into night; it was impossible, unnatural… . A new light fell across the Forest, heavy and foul, as the full Blue Moon rose on a starless night sky. Jack shook his head dumbly, trying to deny the evidence of his own eyes, but already he could feel the Wild Magic beating on the air like a never ending roll of thunder, free and awful and potent once again.
    Jack shrank in on himself. The Forest he knew was suddenly gone, corrupted into Darkwood. The life he had loved was gone forever, and he was nothing more than a man named Jack—an outlaw and lier-in-wait. He swallowed hard, fighting down the panic that threatened to unman him. He clutched the hilt of his knife tightly, and drew comfort from the simple familiar weight of it. The Forest might be dead and gone, but it could still be avenged. He was Scarecrow Jack, and nothing and nobody could ever take that from him.
    He looked away from the Blue Moon. The open glade seemed suddenly bleak and menacing. It was too open, too vulnerable to attack. There was nowhere to hide if … if he needed to. He started to run and head for the trees, and then discovered that he couldn’t. He looked down and found that the grass had grown up over his feet and ankles, wrapping its long, wiry strands into unyielding grassy chains. Jack tugged at his feet with all his strength, but the grass wouldn’t break or give. He bent down and slashed the verdant chains with his knife, and they parted reluctantly under the sharp edge. Panic was gnawing at his mind again, and it was getting harder all the time to hold it off. He finally pulled his feet free and ran for the trees. The grass was growing taller all around him, throwing bright green streamers up into the night sky. They swayed constantly, though no wind blew, and the thicker strands reached out to snatch at his legs as he ran through them. The trees loomed up before him, and Jack felt his heart leap. He would be safe among the trees, as he always had.
    It was dark beyond the glade. Out in the open, the air danced and shimmered with the Blue Moon’s unhealthy light, but in the Darkwood there was only the eerie light of the phosphorescent lichens that spotted the tree trunks. Jack stumbled to a halt and searched with his inner sense for the source of his magic, but the trees were silent. He leaned against the nearest tree for support, and the bark sagged inward under his weight. He stepped quickly back from the tree, and on looking at it closely discovered it was already dead and rotten, eaten away from within. The ever present stench of corruption lay heavily on the air, thick and suffocating. The tree’s gnarled and twisted branches suddenly writhed like twitching fingers and reached out for him. He jumped back, and the tree behind him wrapped its branches around him in a deadly embrace. Jack struggled fiercely, but the branches closed ever more tightly around him, crushing the air from his lungs. He tried to cut the branches with his knife, but couldn’t apply enough leverage to do more than notch the bark. The branches lifted him up into the stinking air, and his feet kicked helplessly as the ground fell away beneath him.
    No. This isn’t right
.
    Jack stopped struggling and concentrated on that thought. The Darkwood was destroyed, the Blue Moon long gone. He knew this. He remembered their passing. It was impossible that they should have returned, and therefore they hadn’t. Jack concentrated on clearing his mind of everything but that one simple thought, and the tree’s branches loosened and fell away from him. Jack dropped to the ground and slipped his knife back into his sleeve before straightening up. He didn’t need it anymore. He made his way back toward the open glade, and a pool of sunlight formed around him, pushing back the gloom.