The Forbidden Trilogy (The Forbidden Trilogy #1-3)

She nodded. "Yes, but I don't know how to describe it."

"It's about expansion verses contraction. You, and quite honestly most humans, spend all of your time contracted. Like a roly-poly bug or a snail stuck in its shell, you crawl into yourself and shut yourself off from the world. From that vantage point, everything looks isolated and big and scary, and you think you have to defend yourself. But, when you expand, you realize how connected things are. Life becomes much friendlier as you realize that you are not alone. Does that make sense?"

It did, sort of, but thinking about it made Lucy's head hurt. She understood it for moments, like glimpses into eternity, but they were fleeting. Intellectually, it eluded her.

Mr. K shook himself, and flower petals fell from his branches and onto her head. "It's not something you can use your brain to understand. You have to feel it in your body, in your soul. Only then can you learn and grow. And... only then will you succeed at your mission."

That got Lucy's attention. "At freeing the kids? Or getting out?"

"At everything, Lucy. At life."

Lucy's stomach grumbled so loud, it startled a white bird with gold-accented feathers that pecked at the rock next to her.

Mr. K shook with a deep laugh. "Looks like it's time for you to eat. One of the perks of being a tree, I receive constant nourishment through the sun and soil. No hunger pains for me."

"Yeah, I'm starving. Didn't realize how long we'd been here. Time flies when you're meditating. Ha!" Normally time seemed to stand still, so Lucy appreciated the change. "See you later!"

The branches parted as she ran toward the camp they'd set up. Mr. K had taught them how to weave the weeping willow branches into tight, basket-like huts that they lined with layers of leaves to sleep on. In the center of the camp, they'd built a fire pit, which they'd taken solemn oaths to guard carefully, lest the sparks injure Mr. K or any other plant life around them.

Luke sat by the fire pit with his foot resting on a bed of leaves, and Hunter leaned against a tree and carved a stick into a point. Several other pointy sticks lay in a pile by his feet.

"Hey, guys, I'm starving. I need food!" Lucy's pants hung loose around her hips—and she'd been petite before the start of this trip. All of her curves would disappear if she didn't get something of substance into her.

Luke offered her a small bunch of blood-red berries. "They're delicious."

Lucy shook her head. "I know. All the fruit has been exceptionally yummy. Whatever experiment created this place, it's pretty much paradise. But I need meat—thick, juicy, hot, protein-packed meat. I can't live on berries and plants. I'm not a rabbit!" She turned to Hunter, and her stomach flip-flopped—and not from the hunger. "Hey Hunter, want to hunt?"

"Haha. Yeah, I've never heard that one before. But, to answer your not even remotely witty question—yes, I'd love to."

She pointed to his stack of wood. "That for hunting?"

He shrugged. "Hunting. Weapons. Whatever we need."

"Cool. I'll stick to my knife and gun this time, but good to have a backup. My bullets won't last forever."

Luke stood and wrapped the berries in a leaf. "I'm game to go too."

"Sorry, Bro, you need to rest and let that foot heal."

"I'm fine. I swear."

Hunter slapped him on the back. "Next time, once you're healed. We've got it covered today."

Lucy and Hunter headed into the forest, leaving Luke standing there like a rejected puppy. Lucy felt bad, but he'd never be able to keep up, let alone hunt prey, and they couldn't afford for him to further injure himself. He'd need to be fully recovered for the mission, once they figured out a way to escape.

They pushed through brush, dodging vines and hanging branches.

Hunter made a sound that reminded Lucy of a cat hiss and flicked a leaf away from his face. "Green, green and more green. I'm sick of it. I hate the color green."

"If it weren't for the vampire bugs bent on sucking me dry, I'd love it. It's pretty. Besides, your eyes are green."

"Yeah, so? Doesn't mean I have to like the color."

His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green she'd ever seen—like priceless emeralds—but she held her tongue. No sense in looking even more like a love-sick teenager. "So what's your favorite color?"

He whacked at another branch. "Black."

"Black's not a color."

"Fine, Miss Picky. Brown."

"Seriously? Nobody likes brown." Talk about the most boring color ever.

"Brown is a great color. The earth is brown. Chocolate is brown. Aren't girls supposed to love chocolate? Besides, your eyes are brown, and they're pretty gorgeous."

Well, that was sweet... and kind of gag-inducing. The conversation started to sound like a scene in a romance novel with sparkly vampires, and a horrible thought hit her. What if he was the kind of guy who read sappy romances and used those lines to hit on girls? The idea was so preposterous she laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?"