Dawn had barely touched the bottom of the valley when Fey slipped outside the cottage, closing the wooden door carefully so as to not wake up her family. Clutching a scratchy flour-sack cloth tied up to hold a half-loaf of day-old bread and a crumbling block of cheese, she hurried away from the house, hoping no one would see her. She stopped at the small creek that marked the border between her family's land and the forest. Glancing back and forth, she dragged a splintered board from its hiding place in a tangle of weeds and placed it over the creek with an echoing clunk.
Fey paused, wincing, her ears twitching as she listened for any sign someone had heard her. All she heard was the gurgle of the creek and the distant sound of Old Man Gyran chopping wood for the morning fire. After a few tense moments, she sighed, her shoulders visibly relaxing. She tucked a frizzy bit of stray hair behind her ear, then walked across the wobbly makeshift bridge.
"Where do you think you're going?"
The voice that came from above her made Fey jump, and she lost her footing. She stumbled forward, tripped over a rock, and sprawled flat onto her face, her bundle of food tumbling out of her grasp. From her position on the ground, with weeds tickling her nose, she heard a thump as the person the voice belonged to jumped out of their spot in the apple tree next to the creek.
"You okay?"
Recognizing the voice of her older cousin, she moaned and pushed herself upright. "Dang it, Barin! You scared me!"
Barin took Fey's hand and helped her to her feet. "You aren't going to the forest, are you?" he asked, peering at her.
Fey's mouth opened, then closed, as tried to figure out the best way to answer. Older than her by four years at fifteen, he was only one summer away from being an adult. But with his ruffled hair, bare feet, and dirty trousers, he didn't look much older than many of the kids her age. The question was, could she trust him? He wasn't an adult--in Fey's experience, no adults could be trusted--but he wasn't exactly a kid either.
Fey sighed and picked up her bundle of food, brushing off the dirt and picking the burrs and stickers off the cloth. "If I said yes, would you tell Pa?"
He blinked at her, his mouth falling open. "Are you crazy? The forest is dangerous!"
She glared at him, then stomped off in the direction of the forest. "I knew you wouldn't understand," she muttered. She made a beeline for the forest, hoping to get there before Barin had a chance to stop her. The forest stood only a few hundred feet away, but the tall, crooked trees that stood sentinel at its edge were usually enough to keep the villagers far away.
Fey had only a few more steps to go when she heard Barin call after her, "Wait, I'm coming with you!"
She halted in her tracks, astonished by his actions. "What? Why?" She turned to see him run up to her, and she waited for him to catch his breath. "Aren't you going to tell Pa?"
He straightened, giving her an angry look. "You really think I would rat you out to your Pa like that?"
He had a point. Barin hadn't always agreed with her on things, and didn't always like her tendency to break rules, but not once had he ever told her Pa when she did. "Sorry," she said. Then she gave him a curious look. "Why are you coming with me when you're scared of the forest?"
Barin bristled a little at her question. "I'm not scared!" She gave him a look, and he quickly amended his statement. "Well, maybe a little. But I would be a fool to let you go in there alone."
She smiled as she realized he genuinely believed he was following her to their doom. She could see it in the way he licked his lips, wrung his hands, and threw worried glances at the Sentinel Trees. Fey realized how selfless the gesture was, but she couldn't resist teasing him a little. She walked over to the nearest Sentinel Tree and placed her hand on the rough, knotted bark of the trunk. "Great! Stay close to me then."
The way Barin paled at her action made her stifle a grin. Without waiting for him to change his mind, she turned on her heel and half skipped into the forest.
"Fey!!"
The stricken panic in his voice made her stop. She turned around and faced him, cocking her head. "I thought you weren't scared?" she asked. "Aren't you coming?"
"You're walking to your death!" His voice took on a pleading tone. "Your life isn't all bad. I promise it will get better!"
Her lips parted in shock. He thought she wanted to die! Her face softened. "Barin, I'm not going to die," she said quietly, speaking just loudly enough for him to hear. "I've been here many times."
The raw shock on his face was enough to make her realize she had taken her teasing too far. She walked back to him, holding her hand out to her frightened older cousin. "Come on," she said, keeping her voice gentle. "I'll show you." She took his hand and waited for him to get to his feet. She turned to lead him into the forest, then stopped as she felt the tug that told her he wasn't following. "Barin, it's okay," she said. "It's not as dangerous as everyone says."
Barin looked at his cousin, then into the dark, dense forest, then at her hand holding his. "All right, Fey," he said. "I'll trust you."
Fey warmed at his words, especially since she could still hear an undercurrent of terror in them. She decided to start small, taking it one step at a time. She led him over to the same Sentinel Tree she had touched earlier, and placed his hand on the trunk of the tree.
"This is a Sentinel Tree," she said. Fey felt Barin's muscles tense as his hand touched the rough bark. "They guard the forest, keeping out those who would cause it harm. But they welcome those who wish to enter as one with the forest."
Barin blinked, his boyish face wrinkling as he processed her words. "You speak as if the trees are alive."
"They are." Fey put her own hand on the trunk next to Barin's. "Listen. Can you hear them speaking to you?"
His face scrunched up even more than she thought possible. She waited, then closed her eyes and listened for the gentle whispers that echoed in the back of her mind. May all who enter cause no harm. May no harm come to those who enter.
Barin leaped backward so suddenly he tripped over a tree root and fell on his rump. "What was that??" he asked, a wild look in his eyes.
Fey grinned. "What did you hear?"
He frowned. "I only caught bits and pieces. Something about those who enter coming to harm?" He glared at her. "You said they welcome those who wish to enter!"
She shook her head and repeated the Sentinel Tree's warning. "May all who enter cause no harm. May no harm come to those who enter," she said. She looked up at the Sentinel Tree, feeling the texture of the bark beneath her fingers. "You must not have been calm enough to hear the whole message."
"Calm??" His voice gave a little squeak as he spoke the word. "You really expected me to be calm?"
She laughed. "Okay, you're right." She turned and held her hand out to him again. "Come on, it gets even better."
He ignored her hand and pushed himself to his feet, his tangled hair now carrying a few leaves and twigs. He shook his head and brushed them out of his hair. "I'm not sure better is a good thing," he grumbled.
When she saw that he wasn't going to take her hand, Fey shrugged and nodded towards the heart of the forest. "This way."
She led him deeper into the dense growth of trees, shrubs, and moss. Every so often she heard him stumble and mutter to himself. She wisely kept quiet so as to not hurt his pride any further. She was confident in her path, and not once did she hesitate as she led him around trees, over ragged boulders, and under low-hanging branches. The unusual stillness of the forest told her that it was watching, waiting to see if this newcomer would respect the Sentinel's Warning. Occasionally she heard a rustling in the branches, a quiet whisper, or a hushed flutter of invisible wings. Fortunately, Barin was too focused on following her without tripping to notice that they were being watched. She feared his courage would have failed him had he noticed.
Finally, they reached the Starlight Pond. The pond was surrounded by so many trees that it was shrouded in shadow, yet it still shone with tiny specks of light floating gently on its still surface, hence the name. Fey led Barin to her favorite spot underneath a willow tree, where the water lapped at the roots. She settled down in a crook at the bottom of the trunk, her bundle in her lap, and patted the ground next to her. After hesitating for a moment, Barin sat down, stiffly folding his legs, his eyes on the unnatural light coming from the surface of the water.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Fey sighed.
Her cousin finally tore his eyes away from the pond to study her face. "How did you learn about this place?" he asked, his voice quiet.
Fey focused her gaze on her cloth bundle, fingers fumbling to untie the knot. "I was seven," she said simply. "It was the day Pa first hit me."
He was quiet for a long moment, and then he spoke. "Fey," he said, his voice sympathetic.
She held up a hand, stopping whatever pathetic pity speech he might have started. "I was scared," she continued, turning her attention back to her cloth bundle. She finally got the knot free, and opened it to find the bread misshapen and the cheese in several crumbled pieces. She tore off a chunk of bread, handing it to Barin. "I was scared enough that the forest was the only place I could think to go where Pa wouldn't."
She looked up to see a pitying look in Barin's eyes, and immediately regretted it. She focused on the water lapping at the shore only a few inches away from her feet. "So I ran. I thought the forest was scary, but that day, for the first time, Pa was even scarier. I ran and ran, until I ended up here."
"I remember that day," Barin said softly. "We were all in a panic, thinking you had fallen into the river. We all knew why you ran, but no one had the courage to stop it."
Fey shrugged, trying to act like it no longer bothered her. "Well, I found something better." She set her bundle of food on the ground next to her and stood. She approached the edge of the pond, rolled up her trousers, and kneeled so that the water tickled her knees. "Check this out," she said with a grin.
She touched the surface of the pond, disturbing it just enough to cause ripples to grow from her finger, the dots of light bobbing up and down as they rode the tiny waves. A single, clear note sounded, ringing out across the pond. It was just loud enough that it carried across the water, but not so loud as to overwhelm. The note was beautiful, raw, and pure, and resonated within her chest.
Barin scrambled to his feet, his mouth agape. "What...?"
Fey gave him a grin and then stuck her hand in the water, submerging it halfway up her forearm. A series of notes rang out, playing a haunting melody that simultaneously soothed her soul. She slowly drew her arm back out and the music responded with a sliding series of notes that sounded both sad and joyous at the same time.
"Can I try?" Barin asked, kneeling next to her.
"Yeah, just be careful not to scare the Floating Lights."
He gave her a quizzical look. "They're alive, too?"
She nodded. "I think they're the ones who make the music."
Barin let out a slow breath, then placed his stretched out palm on the surface of the water. The melody that played was starkly different from Fey's, sounding wild and unsteady in comparison to her melancholy calm. He withdrew his hand. "Whoa."
Fey was equally entranced. "I've never heard it sound like that before."
Looking thoughtful, Barin immersed his hand in the pond in the same way Fey had. This time the music was less wild, but still unsteady, with a hint of playfulness. He pulled his hand back out and shook the water off. "I think it responds to emotion," he said.
"Really?" Fey carefully scooped some water up into her palm and let it slide back into the pond. The resulting music sounded more content and less sad, but it still had a haunting undertone. "Huh."
The two of them continued playing with the water for nearly an hour, Barin's music growing more confident and steady, and Fey's music growing more playful and pleasant. Eventually, they grew both tired of the game and hungry for lunch, so they shook the water off their arms and munched on the bread and cheese in content silence.
After they had finished eating, Barin leaned over, propping his elbows on his knees. "Thanks for showing me this," he said.
Fey grinned. "Even though you thought I wanted to die?"
He chuckled, but then the smile slid off his face. "What are you going to do?" he asked.
Fey picked up a small, soil-covered stone and rolled it around in her hands, watching the soil break loose and tumble onto the ground. "About what?"
His voice was quiet and gentle as he answered. "About your Pa. What if he finds out?"
She shrugged, still fiddling with the rock. "If I finds out, I'll just come here. 'May no harm come to those who enter,' remember?"
Barin studied her for a moment before turning his attention on Starlight Pond. "I sure hope so."
Fey felt the same. The thought of her Pa learning her secret was scary, and she wasn't even sure the forest would protect her. But somehow, having Barin in on her secret made the thought of the future much less daunting than before.
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