“We won’t go far,” he assured us, “but this light will make it easy to find our way back.” The horses, despite coloring that suggested otherwise, were not a native species to the forest, and tended to get jumpy when they strayed too far from the unlit pathway.
Pyrite’s personality brightened with the chance to teach us about plants and wildlife, including the four categories of trees. The first type, common trees, were any species not exclusive to the area. The second type were called colony trees, redwoods with long reaching roots that hosted a large variety of edible mushrooms and other fungus. The third kind, massive Phantom Oaks, were thirty feet around and created a thick canopy of velvet black leaves and glowing Moonlight Fruit.
The Ghost Trees were the last type, the giant beings native only to the Deep Dark, who danced an elegant dance between life and death. They were often more than a hundred feet around and able to produce the same types of vegetation, as well as the powerful Wild Fruit that had gotten us into this mess.
Pyrite knelt by a looming Phantom Oak, overgrown with clusters of fungus at the root. “You can find all necessary nutrients in the mushrooms that grow here,” he lectured. “The Moonlight Fruit is important as well. It tastes bland but can supplement the nutrients one would get from the sun.”
The mushrooms were diverse and plentiful: purple chanterelles with short stems, green morels with fuzzy exteriors, and smooth plump ones the color of fresh blood. Pyrite filled a bag with all of them, except the red, which he handed to Piranha.
“For you, Wildcat, eat the red ones for the nutrients you need. The rest of you, eat anything but the reds.” He scrunched his face. “They won’t hurt you, but they won’t agree with your palette. Trust me.”
He used some dry sticks to start a small fire, then cooked the slices of mushroom on a flat silver dish. All the while, Pir bombarded him with question after question, trying to make up for the ignorance earlier.
They popped a red mushroom in their mouths and grinned ear to ear. “I’ve been wondering. If someone tried to cross the border into the Dark without a guide, what would happen to them?”
Pyrite unearthed a small container of blackish-red seasoning from his cloak and poured it generously over the food. “It changes, based on which king is controlling the border. For the last five years, King Obsidian’s power has decayed as he nears the end of his long life, and the borders are unstable. To enter the Dark is to pass through the Unseen Dimension which can cause paranoia, nausea, or even unconsciousness.”
He dispersed the mushrooms, thick and hard to chew, but spicy and savory. “A power like Badger’s could allow outsiders to bypass the symptoms, I’m guessing. If you can learn to take others into the Unseen Dimension with you, then you could also guide them into the Dark.”
“Really? Will Gold-and-Silver be able to—?” I digressed, because the green light by the horses shifted in brightness. Someone was passing our horses.
Sharp had one hand on the hilt of a blade, and the other cupped over her ear. “I hear two people passing by.”
Pyrite hid himself in the hood of his cloak and whispered, “It’s okay, this part of the road is well-travelled. Can you make out what they’re saying?”
“If I get a little closer. Stay put.” She moved with an absolute silent step, but after only a moment of eavesdropping, she returned with a shrug. “They left. One said something about Benzay, and they continued the other way.”
The tension melted from Pyrite’s shoulders, but a grimace now lined his face. “We ought to keep moving. It probably isn’t a good idea to leave the path anymore. Let’s go.”
As we continued to Banyan, the trees became wider and more spread out, paler in their bark and crooked in their angles. Even though the real sun was blotted out by the canopy, the calming twinkle of honey-drop lights lit the way. The further we journeyed into the trees, the quieter Pyrite became.
Willow was not to be daunted by this cold attitude, singing and floating about, trying to get us to laugh during the last stretch. It had been such a long day, and our flying friend was the only one with any energy.
Pyrite was unimpressed by this display, but he watched my friend with a careful look and asked, “Do you come from the Kingdom of the Wind, young nomad? You share some of the features of the people there.”
Willow jolted from his midair lounging. “N-no, not exactly. The tribe I grew up in was at the base of the plateau, not the kingdom itself.” He mirrored Pyrite’s expression and tilted his head. I knew Willow well enough to know when he didn’t like someone, and ever since the moment with the rabbit, he’d been coldly polite to my godfather. “Why do you ask?”
“Curiosity,” he answered. “Twelve years ago, many people defected from the Kingdom of the Wind and sought refuge here. I thought you might be similar.”
“No, I’m just a regular mountain nomad,” Willow chirped.
Pyrite held a hand in front of his face, feeling something invisible. “Just try to be careful,” he muttered. “This may not be the best climate to draw attention to yourself.”
Willow drifted to the ground and looked at me, his face saying, this man isn’t telling us something.
Night had fallen, though it was hard to tell the time with no sun. A petrichor smell and the pitter patter of something in the air indicated rain overhead, but the leaves were so thick the water reached us as a fine mist. Eventually, a new and peculiar collection of Phantom Oaks came into view, built with doors and windows.
“Here we are,” grumbled Pyrite. “This is Banyan.”
“You live in trees?! That’s wicked cool!” My childlike outburst might have caused Pyrite to smile, but it was gone in an instant.
Sharp and I walked with the others the rest of the way. She stared up at the canopy, peppered with Moonlight Fruit, and reminisced, “The first time I came here, dad left Pir and I to play in the Arbor Inn lobby. How old were we? Eight?”
Piranha plunged an arm into their satchel. “Oh yes, I remember. The concierge gave us a free deck of cards!” They pulled out something small, square, and ragged. “This deck, in fact. It’s my favorite.”
Some trees in Banyan had many windows and were multiple stories tall, while others were stouter. Most of the houses were darkened, but the brightest ones had signs on the front that read things like “Assorted Soaps: 2 Gold Rounds” and “Fresh Hot Breakfast Served Every Earthday Morning.”
The biggest tree in the entire village was the Arbor Inn, built with dozens of circular windows several stories up. The wood around the doorways were carved with intricate flowers and leaves, and the soft-orange blooms of Moonlight Fruit were growing and glowing all over the bark.
The horses stopped to drink from a trough attached to the outside of a small stable, where the number 36 was burned in the dark blue door. We had finally made it to Pyrite’s home.
He handed Sharp a thin silver key. “Get settled. You should be comfortable on the second floor.”
Piranha helped with the horses while the rest of us gathered our things to head inside. Sharp twirled the key in her fingers like a tiny sword. “I hope the inside of his house is just as cozy as the last one we stayed in. The rooms at the Arbor Inn had these carpets that were so soft and thick you could sleep on…”
She reached for the doorknob and froze.
Willow waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Uh, you alright there Sharp?”
A single finger demanded our silence. Her hand curled noiselessly around the doorknob. “Somebody is here,” she hissed. “I can hear it.”
“Calm down, Twinkle Swords. I bet it's Dr. Gold-and-Silver.”
Her eyes glowed a striking gray. “No, it’s the two women that passed by our horses earlier. How did they beat us here?”
“Really?” Willow put an ear on the door. “I can’t hear a damn thing! That fruit sure did a number on your ears.”
She pinched his lips and shushed. “Quiet. I have a bad feeling, so maybe take this seriously? Just this once? Let’s get Pyrite.”
With careful feet, we returned to the stable. My godfather was in the middle of explaining to Piranha about the best horse feed, but his posture tensed when he saw our uncertain faces. “What is it? Something wrong?”
“Your door was unlocked.” Sharp threw the key back to him. “Two women are talking on the second floor. The same ones from earlier. Do you know who they are?”
“Melodia,” he growled. “Stay here. Don’t let anyone see you.”
“Friend of yours?” I asked. He spoke the name like it would put a bad taste in his mouth.
“Friend of no one. Stay here and keep quiet.” He hurried away, leaving us alone.
We turned to Sharp for her assessment of the situation. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steady breath. “How did these women know where to find us? There’s something I’m missing.”
Willow curled his arms near his heart. “Stop it! You’re starting to scare me for real! What if it's the Sapphire Clan’s recruiters?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” she said. “Pyrite seems to know them.”
Piranha revealed their claws for a moment, pupils thin. “He doesn’t seem to like them.”
“Maybe you should go with him just in case,” I suggested, pushing Sharp to the threshold.
