FIRST TO RETURN were sounds, though from such a great distance, she could not be certain she even heard them. At least they were gentle sounds: the rustling of leaves, the sighing of wind. More faintly still, she thought she heard soft breathing, but that was most likely her imagination.
Next came a sensation of light that slowly pushed the darkness back into a hazy tunnel. Sparks burst on the edges like exploding fireflies. But soon things began to take more solid shape and color. She saw leaves, brilliant green on dark branches against a vibrant blue sky. She lay in a forest, she realized, though she couldn’t remember how she had come there.
Oh, beasts and devils! Was that her head hurting so badly?
With a groan, she struggled to repossess her own limbs. How had she— No! She wouldn’t think about that, not with her head throbbing so. But what was this place—no, no! No thinking!
Grinding her teeth and drawing deep breaths, she sat up. Almost immediately she curled forward, her elbows digging into the dirt, her palms pressing into her eyes, and wished to die. People should not be obliged to live with heads in such a state. But after another lungful or two, she felt better and was able to look about again.
She sat in a small clearing of pure green grass. Sunlight broke through the otherwise intensely heavy foliage to fall just here, making the green brighter still (and not helping her head). Beyond this circle of light lay the Wood, as black and ominous as any wood has ever dared be. The trees whispered to each other, gossiping with the wind. Otherwise, she was alone.
“So, you are awake at last.”
Not quite alone.
The girl peered into the shadows of the trees just beyond the clearing. A form sat in the darkness, but she could discern no details. The voice was a man’s. Not a warrior’s voice, she thought. It wasn’t deep but smooth with a golden timbre. Coming from the shadows, however, it was ominous. Her heart began to race, and she stood and took a step back. This wasn’t her world. She felt the strangeness in the ground beneath her feet, in the air she breathed. And this stranger, whether man or monster, could not be her friend, not in this place.
The form slinked from shadow to shadow with barely a flicker she could follow. But her eyes were quick and her ears quicker still. She turned as it moved, making certain she faced it.
“You have been wasting my Time, mortal woman,” the stranger said. “With every breath you take, my rival draws nearer to stealing from me what I desire most. Do you see your crime, creature of dust?”
She stepped back slowly, setting her feet so gently that they scarcely made a sound. How odd was the speech of the stranger! She thought, somehow, that she should not be able to understand, should not know his language. But the words he spoke shifted in her mind even as he spoke them, and she understood as clearly as though he spoke the tongue of her people. His voice was not unfriendly, but the meaning contained a possible threat. Her eyes darting even as her head remained still, she cast about for a stout stick. But in this otherworldly forest all the trees grew straight and never dropped a dead branch.
The figure in the darkness moved again, sidling around as though to get closer to her. “It’s my own fault,” he said, “for allowing myself to become involved. I am more than ready to take responsibility for my foolishness!”
She stepped sideways, one foot crossing delicately behind the other as she moved. The grass was soft beneath her feet, but she did not like it. It was deceptively comforting. How could one trust a forest such as this?
“But for my pains, I think I deserve an explanation or two,” the stranger continued, slipping behind a tree so that she lost sight of him altogether. Her knees bent and her hands spread to lend her balance should she need to run suddenly.
“Tell me, girl, what were you thinking, drinking from the River?”
The voice was directly behind her. She whirled about. How could he have moved so fast? Her eyes searched the dark deeps, struggling to see through the glare of light around her. She spun in place, her gaze darting. Where was he? Where was—
“Speak up, if you please.”
She looked down. An orange cat sat at her feet, tail lashing. He grinned a feline grin at her. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Cat got your tongue?”
She ran.