Chapters Fourteen and Fifteen

Chapter Fourteen: In Which Flake Gets A Headache

In the forest, Flake was mostly following Pebbles.  He had no idea what to do anyways.  Was he just going to randomly walk around until he found this so-called foe?  The Oracle’s instructions weren’t very clear on that part, or anything, for that matter.  His best plan was to follow the horse, who seemed to be trotting along confidently in some direction.  Or maybe he was even more confused than Flake was.

After a few minutes Flake started feeling drowsy.  He yawned and sat down on the grass in a small clearing.  Maybe it was time to take a short break.  He absentmindedly stroked Pebble and stared at the trees.  They seemed so big, looming over him with their shadows.  He blinked and yawned again.  Was there normally black spots on the corners of his vision?  He couldn’t remember.  He was also starting to get a bit dizzy, maybe he should drink water…

Suddenly a exploding pain in his head broke him out of reverie.  It was excruciating.  He couldn’t breathe, could barely think.  Flake did remember a faint whinny that must’ve been Pebbles, but he wasn’t sure.  He could also hear a voice, someone he recognized, but couldn’t place…

The last thing he remembered was seeing a flash of red.  Then he fell unconscious.

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“Maple!  Supervise the farmers!  Poppy!  Babysit little Juniper, she’s starting to cry a little.  Everyone to their places!”  Alder clapped his hands.  Everyone shouted “NOW!” and went off to do their assigned jobs.  Alder looked proudly over all of them, until someone tapped him on the shoulder.  A girl was peering up at him.  His brow furrowed.  Who was she?  Oh yes, Rose, wasn’t it?  The girl who was abandoned in the forest and couldn't speak.  “Didn’t I already give you something to do?”  he asked.  Rose shook her head.  “Oh.  Um, check if the snapberry bushes are still ripe, then.  Off you go.”  Alder turned away.  “Birch!  I told you to go hunt in the forest, why aren’t you doing it?”

Rose lingered in the village clearing for a moment, then spun around and headed to the forest.  No one paid any attention to her.  No one reminded Alder that the snapberry bushes were ripe, and they would be until the next full moon.  No one remembered that Alder had given Rose a similar task every day for the past week now.  Rose wasn’t sure if it would be any better if someone didn’t speak out.  She didn’t belong in that village.  That was clear.

Soon her walking broke into a run.  Running was one of her favorite things to do.  It was as if the pounding of the footsteps and the rhythm of her heartbeat and the sound of leaves crunching under her feet was loud enough to make up for her inability to speak.  She ran straight into the forest and didn’t stop.  Rose knew she probably ran past the snapberries, but she didn’t care.  They were still ripe, and Alder knew that perfectly well.

Rose heard a noise while she was running.  The sound of a horse’s whinny.  At first she thought it was just the wind, but then the whinny sounded a second time, louder.  She changed direction and headed toward the sound.  The villagers would remember her if she brought a horse to the village!

Finally she stopped at a small clearing.  There was a horse there, a gray one of a nice breed.  But it wasn’t the horse she was captivated by.  It was the dead boy lying on the grass next to the horse.  He looked familiar, but Rose couldn’t quite place it.  He didn’t look like anyone from the village, or any other places around the forest.  He must’ve come from Outside.

Rose stepped closer to the boy.  She had never seen anyone dead before, and she had to say, it didn’t look half as creepy as she thought it would look.  In fact, if it weren’t for the pale skin, she would assume he was sleeping.

The boy that was supposed to be dead let out a small wheeze.  Rose jumped back in surprise.  Okay.  So the boy wasn’t dead.  But he wasn’t awake, either.  After that short wheeze, he resumed his unconscious state again.  Was he sick?  Was he sleeping?

Rose looked at the horse, which was pacing anxiously.  She looked at the boy again, which looked dead, then stared in the direction of the village.  She thought, I’m coming back.  Then she ran as fast as she could to the village square.

Chapter Fifteen: In Which Snow Writes A Letter

Dear Flake,

It’s weird I’m writing to you, especially since I have no idea how to get this to you anyways, but writing these crazy events down help me really grasp what’s happening.  Writing to you makes me have a bit of hope, like somehow, I’ll get this to you in the end, and you can laugh and cringe and cry while reading it.

Of course, I’m being dramatic.  You’d probably just look at this letter and read it with no expression at all.

You and Dad must be freaking out right now, but really, I’m okay.  I’m in this cave place with a boy named Jack who is super optimistic and talks a lot.  He isn’t prisoner here, more like a captor.  There is also another boy, but I don’t know his name.  He’s kidnapped, like me, and he’s not happy about it.  He throws things at Jack when he’s angry, which is pretty much all the time.

Jack took us to this cave he called the ‘game room’.  It is packed with weird stuff I’ve never seen before.  You’d probably be really interested in them.  I’ll list some out for you:

• A table that has green fur on it and a bunch of colored balls with numbers.  The goal is to use these long sticks to push the balls into these holes on the corners. Jack calls it ‘snooker’.  Don’t ask me where he the weird word from.
• A mat that has colored circles on it.  Jack calls it ‘Twister’.  The goal is to put your hands and legs on the correct colored circles and get twisted up.  I don’t get what’s so fun about it.  I tried it, and it hurts.
• A board with black and white squares and black and white figurines on either side.  It’s called ‘chess’.  Jack tried to explain it to me.  It was extremely complicated.  I’m afraid I don’t exactly remember how to play.  The figurines are cool though.

That list does not include the numerous games in boxes with weird names like Jenga, Qwirkle, Monopoly, and many others that I don’t know how to spell.  They are all very weird and confusing.  When I asked Jack where he got them, he simply said he got it from his dad.  I’m a bit curious about his dad.  I have a feeling he is behind all this.

I miss you.  I don’t wish you were here, because you’d probably be in more danger than where you are now.  Speaking of that, what are you doing now, the moment I write this?  Sleeping?  Worrying about me?  Looking at the song sparrows?  I don’t know.  I do hope that I meet you soon, though I’m not sure when that would happen.

Yours truly,
Snow