Page 59 of Wild Ivy
“Do you mean that in the sentient sense?” I venture, with a worried frown.
“Not exactly sentient,” Blackthorn says.
“Oh, completely sentient,” Vex says at the same time.
Blackthorn gives him an exasperated sigh. “It’s more like reality becomes fluid. The forest responds to your thoughts and your fears. It’s why we’ve never been able to map it properly, despite many efforts. The paths shift, some landmarks move, and time...” He pauses, retrieving what looks like an ancient compass from thin air. “Time can sometimes behave differently there.”
“Differently how?” Torin asks.
“How often is sometimes?” I add.
“Some times,” he says with a shrug. “Hours can pass like minutes, or minutes like days. The deeper you go, the more unstable it becomes.” Blackthorn hands me the compass. It’s warm to the touch, humming with old magick. “This is attuned to the energy fluctuations. It won’t show you true north - it’ll guide you toward the strongest concentration of power.”
“Which is where Life will be heading,” I finish, watching the needle spin erratically before settling on me. I shake it, and it does the same. Frustrated, I hand it to Tate. He looks at it and then at me.
Blackthorn takes it from him and shakes it. With narrowed eyes, he purses his lips. “Hmm, seems this is useless in your presence unless you are moonlighting as an ancient temple, Miss Hammond.”
“Not that I know of,” I mutter, my cheeks red hot.
“You will have to follow your instincts. When you get to the treeline on this side of campus,” He gestures firmly. “Turn left.”
“Left. Got it.”
“Remember, nothing you see in those woods can be trusted completely. The forest has a way of getting inside your head. Making you see what you fear most, or what you desire most. Sometimes both at once.”
“Wonderful,” Bram mutters. “Just what we needed right now.”
“Stay together,” Blackthorn warns. “The forest tries to separate groups. Once you’re alone...” He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to.
“We don’t have a choice. Life’s already got a head start.”
“Be careful,” Blackthorn says softly. “And, Miss Hammond. Whatever you see in there, remember why you’re going. Hold on to that.”
I nod as we head out into the sudden darkness of night.
I don’t question it as we hurry across the campus grounds. The moon hangs low and heavy above us, casting long shadows that seem to move independently of their sources. As we near the tree line, the air grows thick with magick - old magick, the kind that settles in your bones and makes your teeth ache.
“Left,” I murmur, remembering Blackthorn’s instructions. The path curves away from the academy, disappearing into darkness so complete it seems solid.
Bram grunts. “I don’t like this. The shadows here are wrong. They don’t respond properly.”
“Define properly,” Torin says suspiciously.
“They’re not just absence of light,” Bram explains, frustration clear in his voice. “They’re something else. Something older.”
A branch snaps somewhere in the darkness, making us all jump. When I look back, MistHallow’s lights are already dim, asif we’ve walked miles instead of yards. The forest seems to press in around us, branches reaching like grasping fingers.
“Everyone stay close,” I say, fighting down my rising unease. “And maybe we should...” I trail off, realising Tate isn’t beside me anymore. “Tate?”
“Here,” his voice comes from behind me. But when I turn, he’s standing several feet away, though I hadn’t heard him move. “I was right next to you a second ago.”
“It’s starting already,” Torin says grimly. “The forest is trying to separate us.”
“Probably because one or all of us is thinking it. We are foreigners here, remember? We are guests. We respect the nature, the forest itself and we respect the hallowed grounds on which MistHallow rests and which we walk. This isn’t Thornfield anymore, guys. This is the real deal, and we treat it accordingly,” I say firmly, already knowing that as soon as this is over with, I’m speaking to Blackthorn about a transfer. I want to be here. The energy of this place is complementary to what is swirling inside me. Ihaveto be here. There are no two ways about it. I just hope the guys will be okay with a move, too. But I think they will be just fine.
“Got it,” Tate murmurs. “Sorry, that was probably me.”
“And me,” Bram murmurs.
