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It stood on the top of a little rise, no more than twenty yards away. The mass that had appeared black and menacing in the distance now shone a deep, garnet red that shimmered in the sunlight.
The Tree of Lives stood no more than forty feet tall, but its thick trunk seemed comprised of many smaller trees, intertwining to form one thick, menacing mass with branches and roots spreading out in all directions.
But it wasn't the tree itself that held Daniel's attention in shock and disgust, it was the bodies. Hundreds of them in various states of decomposition, some human, others not, all pierced and held tightly to whatever branch, root or section of tree trunk that had impaled them.
"Keep moving!" Ian shouted as he surged passed the gruesome sight.
Daniel turned slightly, fully intending to continue his run to safety, but he couldn't pull his gaze from the man-eating tree. It was beautiful and disgusting, and unlike anything he ever could have imagined.
Ian grabbed his shirt by the collar and pulled roughly. "Move!"
"My God," Daniel breathed.
"Devil's more like it," Ian muttered. "Now run, before we both join the damned!"
When Ian forced Daniel around, he blinked, then realized he'd stopped running. With a nod, he started forward and Ian turned to lead the way again.
They cleared the far edge of the rise, dodging branches that whipped down toward them, then found themselves again dealing with the pace-slowing mist and white roots that now arched upward as they approached, desperately trying to slow them down.
Ian pushed ahead, slamming his machete into any clump of wood that came toward them, occasionally making contact that would be echoed by an eerie scream behind them. Daniel stayed as close as he could, concentrating on his foot placement in order to keep the image of that tree out of his mind.
When Ian stopped cold, Daniel very nearly ran into his back and had to grab his pack in order to keep from toppling them both.
That's when he saw what was blocking the path.
"Jesus!"
It was a wall. Or, rather, a six-foot high fence of tangled white branches completely blocking their path. Daniel turned around in time to see a second fence take shape behind them as branches and roots combined, walling off their exit.
Ian moved to the left, and they heard movement, then a cracking sound from above.
"Watch it!"
Daniel stepped back as a large skeleton fell from the branches above their heads, freeing up the wood to form another impassable shield. Bones rained down, splattering in the mud and warm water at their feet to land in a heap no longer resembling whatever creature they'd once been.
"Now what?" They were surrounded.
Ian took a deep breath. He was looking around, at every section of their white prison, as if trying to locate something. The machete in his hand glistened in the mist.
Finally, he pointed. "There it is."
Daniel followed his direction to the thicker section of a branch and saw what he'd been looking for. A section of bark with thorns forming a circle, about the size of a baseball, with a gaping, black maw in the center.
"It's a feeder thorn, they bleed like a son of a bitch." Ian hefted the machete and holstered his gun. "Get ready."
"What are you doing?"
"The tree doesn't like to bleed, so this is gonna piss it off. Hopefully it'll also pull back long enough to get us out of here."
"Pissing off the tree that eats people, that's your plan?"
Ian shrugged. "Happy to entertain one of yours, if you've got one ready."
The branches were beginning move.
"I'd say go ahead and piss it off," Daniel replied with a shrug.
"Okay, get ready to run." Ian shifted the machete in his hand and took a breath, then braced himself and brought the large blade up over one shoulder. After a pause, he threw, hitting the thorny circle dead-center. A sudden geyser of red erupted from the wound.
"Run!"
Daniel charged through the suddenly parting white fence as the air filled with a terrible scream that shook the ground around them. He ran, and kept running until Ian surged passed, compass in hand, and led the escape.
They kept running, dodging branches and roots without slowing. Even when the swamp grew deeper and the mist obliterated their view, they ran. Ian checked the compass without slowing, occasionally changing their direction, until finally the roots they were leaping over grew deeper red and the branches above became fewer and further between.
By the time they stopped running, Daniel was convinced his lungs had exploded.
They were out of the swamp now, standing on dry ground at the base of an imposing rock cliff and looking back at the drifting mist. Ian gave a thumb's up, unable to speak as he fought to catch his breath. He sank to his knees and pulled off his back pack.
Daniel finally convinced his legs the tree wasn't following them any longer, and they slowly allowed him to sink down to the warm, soft grass where he could concentrate on bringing his heart rate back to something more normal.
After a good ten minutes of heavy breathing and coming to terms, he slid the pack off his back and fished out the canteen.
"I'm sorry about that," Ian said, shaking his head slowly. "That's about the worst it's been." He accepted the water and took a drink. "I didn’t want to have to get that close."
The image of a massive, ruby-red tree sucking the life out of people came unbidden to Daniel's mind with a shudder.
"So that thing, it just eats whoever happens by?"
"Whoever and whatever," Ian replied with a nod. "Anything warm blooded and slow enough."
"And the screaming? That was the tree?" The sound was still echoing in Daniel's mind, and most likely would continue through his dreams for a long while to come.
"Yeah, pretty creepy, isn't it? It can use the vocal cords of whatever still happens to have them at the time."
Daniel blinked, convinced he'd just misunderstood. "What?"
Ian sighed heavily and shifted on the grass. "Look, it's not pretty, and I know you being a heal-- a doctor, and all, it's not something you wanna dwell on. Why don't I build us a fire so we can dry off? We'll make camp here for the night."
"Are those poor people still alive?" Daniel glared at Ian, then looked back at the mist covered swamp and pointed. "In that tree, are they still alive?"
Ian shook his head once, sharply. "No," he replied in a tired voice. "They died instantly, more or less. I've never seen anyone survive more than a minute."
Daniel wasn't sure if he felt relief or resignation, but he stared at Ian waiting for clarification.
"The sun will be down soon, it'll get cold." Ian stood, but didn't have to walk far to find enough dry wood for a fire, so he explained as he gathered. "It kills instantly, then sends feeder vines into the body to drain it, slowly. Thing is, it doesn't just drain the body, it uses it. While the victims still have eyes, the tree can use them. While there are still vocal cords, no matter what species, it uses them, too. When it can't hunt by borrowed sight or ears, then it senses movement and warmth with its roots and branches. It can move, if somewhat slowly, to alter the trail and send unwary prey wherever it wants."
Daniel shuddered. "You should call that place something. The Swamp of the Life-Sucking Tree, maybe. Or Realm of the Roots. Seems like a swamp that freakish deserves an equally freakish name."
Ian dropped his load of wood and looked at Daniel. "You don't think swamp is scary enough?" He pulled a fire crystal from his pack and shook his head. "You say swamp around anyone in Ether and you'll get a reaction." He tapped the crystal against a small rock, then set it in the center of the wood pile. "Mothers keep their children in line by threatening to send them to the swamp if they misbehave."
"Okay, I get it," Daniel replied as he pulled off his damp coat.
"Some say those who were sentenced to death in the old days were sent to the swamp, never to be seen again."
"Yes, I get it." Daniel draped his coat over a large boulder to dry and pulled off his shoes and socks to give them equal treatment. "Swamp it is, then." Both he and Ian stripped off their shirts to add to the boulder as the heat from the fire grew. "In Otherworld, swamps are just . . . wet. For the most part." It wasn't hard to imagine how long a man-eating tree would last in Louisiana. After three, maybe four deaths, any tree within cutting distance would be destroyed. "So that tree, it's the only one in the entire swamp?"
Ian nodded. "Just the one, but it's roots and branches stretch the entire length, east and west." He pointed back at the swamp. Right here, we're in the center, but it's even less safe trying to cross further out. The branches get faster, and the roots can reach up and pull you down even if you're running. They're younger and thinner. The closer you are to the Tree of Lives, the slower it is, and the better your chances."
"That's what you call the best chance, what we just ran through?"
"Hard to imagine, but yeah. Some folk prefer the crossing further out, but I've tried it and nearly ended up a permanent resident." He nodded toward the cliff they were sitting below. "From here on, it's easier going."
Daniel huffed and glanced at the rock wall. "Define easier. In detail."
Ian checked the clothes, now completely dry. "No worms, no man-eating trees, and no fog." He tossed Daniel his shirt and pulled on his own, then sat back down with his dry socks in hand. "All we have to do is navigate the maze through the rock to the castle's outer walls, then take one of the lesser-used routes inside. Once there, I've got friends we can trust while we figure out how in the hell we're gonna find a key inside the castle."
Daniel leaned back against a smaller rock, willing the heat from the fire to massage out his exhausted muscles. "Just navigate the maze?"
Ian pulled a map from his pack and tossed it to Daniel. "It's pretty simple, really."
Daniel caught the folded map, expecting to find parchment paper. What he caught was a leather, hammered soft as butter, with odd notations marked permanently in some type of black ink like the code of pirate physicists.
"This is a map?"
"Sort of," Ian replied. "It's directions. Left turns, right turns, little side jags." He pointed over his shoulder toward the rock wall. "If we were to climb to the top of this cliff, then try to traverse the span from above, we'd be killed on the jagged rock. It's not solid, and most of the top is crystal formations, sharper than any razor you've known. So the only way from where we are now, to the castle, is through the natural tunnels and spaces in between."
"This maze is natural?" Daniel tossed the map back. He was waiting for the other shoe to fall.
"They just call it a maze because there's really only one way in and one way out, with a lot of dead ends scattered around inside," Ian replied. "Nothing in there is going to eat you, if that's what you're wondering." He unzipped his pack and pulled out what looked like an old WWII gas mask, then nodded toward Daniel's pack. "You'll find one of these in there. They'll protect us from the mold, and that's the only thing we have to fear inside." With a shrug, he put the mask back in the pack. "That, and anyone lost in there who's still running around."
And there it was.
"Mold?" Daniel opened his pack and found a mask identical to Ian's. He looked it over, comparing it to the style he'd been trained in but never had to use in the Air Force.
The cartridge was empty.
"There's a mold on the walls that -- if inhaled in so much as a whiff -- can make you forget even your name," Ian explained. "It's deadly with extended exposure, and there's no cure if you get a lung full. Breathing that mold eats your mind, memory-first, and leaves men wandering around without the sense to feed themselves or the memory to know their names. Eventually, they forget to live. Even if they make it out, they've inhaled too much to survive by then."
"And how do empty cartridges protect us from airborne mold?"
"There's a leaf we'll find close to the opening. You stack them in the cartridge, as many as you can fit, and that's more than enough to get you through the maze, so long as you don't get lost."
Daniel huffed and dropped the mask back down on his pack. "And there are no air ships on this side of the forest because . . .?"
Ian shrugged. "No one wants to risk going down in the swamp."
"Well, I'm beginning to appreciate why people don't venture into that black fog," Daniel admitted.
With their clothing completely dried, they settled in for the night on the dry grass. Once again the night sky amazed Daniel, first with its plethora of stars, then the triple moons as they climbed over the cliffs. The larger one held his interest the most, once it cleared the obstacles and rose directly above their camp. As a kid, he'd always wished Earth had more moons, just to make the night sky as fascinating as the ones in all the science fiction movies. The older he got, the more he understood such ramifications as tidal forces, but that didn't change his boyhood wish.
The larger moon looked so much like NASA's published images of Mars, Daniel had to wonder just where Ether really fit. If it were real, that is. He had to keep reminding himself this was all a dream, or coma-induced misfiring of neurons.
Or something.
Sure, the worm hunt had felt real, but so had the flight on the Myst. And that Tree of Lives. Nothing seemed more real than that little shop of horrors, but Daniel knew if Ether wasn't real, then nothing else he'd been seeing could be.
Unless it was.
He pulled the worm tooth out from underneath his shirt and fingered it while gazing up at the moons. "You're an educated man, Daniel Harper," he whispered, keeping his voice low enough not to wake Ian. "There's no such thing as a key that takes you to another realm." He fingered the tooth, feeling the shark-like ridges along the sharp edge. "And yet, here you are."
It wasn't a dream. Part of him wanted to cling to that possibility because it was easier than admitting everything he knew of physics, space and logic was flawed, but it was no dream. There were no cheerleaders, no sandy beaches with warm, blue waves calling to him, and he hadn't seen a single beer since he'd arrived. "Standard dream inventory."
By the next morning, he really wished he had.
"Good God," Daniel urged his legs to hold his weight as he helped dose the fire. "I haven't had a workout like that since boot camp."
"We don't have to jump over moving tree roots anymore," Ian assured with a slight chuckle at Daniel's discomfort. "Just a few hours from here to the entrance, half a day walking through the tunnels, and we'll be at the castle's outer perimeter."
Daniel slipped his pack over one shoulder and nodded. "The walk will help loosen up tight muscles," he replied. "I thought I was in pretty good shape, but nothing really prepares you for a trek like that."
"It's easy going from here, but I really have no idea how we're going to find this key, or even whether or not Murphy knew what he was talking about."
Ian started toward the rock cliff, then angled around a bend and Daniel realized the cliff wasn't a solid mass of rock, but two very close together. They passed between the two, traveling through a narrow alley of stone, then came out in a wide clearing facing more jutting rocks and towering cliffs.
"What exactly is your plan, then?" Daniel asked as they passed through another stone alley. "I gather we can't just start asking around?"
"Not just anyone, at least," Ian replied. "Like I said, I do have friends in the village. Friends who also know Murphy. I'm hoping some of them will have a clue what he was talking about, or an idea who might."
"So, about Murphy, how long have you known him?"
They'd come out into another open space with rocky ground and found a well-worn, wide path.
"Since I began working in the castle," Ian replied. "I was accepted to the general guard when I turned eighteen, and they told us Murphy was the king's personal advisor. Then when I got the promotion to personal guard, I met him face to face for the first time."
"Personal advisor? What exactly does someone like that do?" Daniel glanced to his left as something sparkled in the sunlight. He moved closer and found several crystal formations scattered around the ground.
"I don't know, exactly," Ian replied. "But as I understand it, Murphy advised the king on financial matters. Tax collecting, distribution, stuff like that."
Daniel picked up a crystal and examined it. "This looks like some of the rocks my uncle liked to display."
Ian pointed upward. "That's what coats the top of these cliffs, which is why you can't really travel on foot up there."
"They're beautiful," Daniel commented as he turned the crystal around in his hand for a few minutes before putting it back down. "So Murphy was a financial advisor?"
"Under King Frederick, the villagers paid fewer taxes and saw improvements to things like roads and water systems," Ian explained. "I think Murphy showed him how to manage the royal funds, and he was a far less greedy ruler than those before him. No doubt one reason why his son wanted the throne."
They were once again passing between two sections of massive rock walls and the ground was beginning to even out, become more sandy.
"King Frederick was lessening the dependence on his single rule and leaning more to the royal court, and an autonomous leadership."
"Like a democracy, you mean?" Daniel asked.
"Not by definition. He intended to remain King and have the final say, but he was allowing the royal court more input. That all ended when Stefan took the throne, and that's what led to several members of the court to back the insurgence. They just didn't have the balls to come out and publicly oppose their new ruler."
As they rounded a bend, Daniel noticed several large bushes growing out from the cliff face, sporting a thick, yellow leaf and bright blue berries. Ian stepped up to the nearest bush and began choosing leaves, making sure to pick those with deepest yellow color.
He handed several to Daniel and continued harvesting. "Here, fit these into the canister of your mask. Stack them, and get as many in as you can manage."
Daniel examined a leaf as he reached into the pack for his mask. "We can breathe through these things? They look pretty solid."
"Yes, easily," Ian replied. "They'll filter the mold, and turn green when they can't filter more." He took a handful and began stacking them into the empty cartridge of his own mask. "A full cartridge will get us through the maze with about five hours of filtering to spare, but we'll keep an eye on them anyway." He held up a stack of leaves. "If they've all turned green, and you're not out yet, you're not gonna make it."
Daniel dutifully stuffed as many leaves as would fit, then screwed the cartridge back onto the front of the mask. "Just to clarify -- this maze we're about to trek through -- the only danger we're looking out for is the mold?"
Ian nodded. "Yeah, just the mold."
"No worms, no trees that eat people, no sections we have to pass through without making any noise?"
"No, nothing."
"I'm just asking because when you said swamp, you didn't bother mentioning the tree because you assumed I'd know what kind of dangers a swamp held," Daniel continued. "And your idea of why the people in the forest didn't live on the ground was bugs."
"A worm is a bug."
Daniel shook his head, then held up a hand, forefinger and thumb a few inches apart. "This, is a bug. Bugs come in this size, and smaller." He pointed back in the direction of the forest. "That worm was no bug. I just don't want to get halfway through that maze only to find out the rocks come alive, or there's some breed of vampire bat in there, and have you say that's what you meant when you said maze."
Ian huffed and finished attaching his cartridge to the face of his gas mask. "The only threats we have to worry about from this point on, aside from not breathing that mold, is human." He put his pack back on and checked the straps on his mask. "There aren't many royal guardsmen who'll recognize me right away, and some of them who do won't care. Like I said, not everyone is loyal to King Stefan. But we're going to have to do our best to avoid attention."
Daniel nodded. He wasn't completely convinced, but he couldn't think of any other way to make certain Ian wasn't forgetting some important little detail about this maze. So far, nothing about Ether had turned out terribly normal, but it was still severely lacking in cheerleaders and beer.
"We're heading in right through there," Ian pointed to a dark cave a few yards ahead, then slipped his mask on and tightened the straps. After Daniel did the same, he nodded toward the opening and started for the cave.
Daniel was surprised to find no restrictions in his breathing, despite the thick stack of leaves between him and fresh air. The mask smelled slightly of mint, and the fit was snug but not uncomfortable. The face piece had a wide, single lens offering good peripheral vision, but he had to resist the sudden Pavlovian urge to scratch his now inaccessible nose.
When they entered the cave, Ian pointed to a spot on the wall that sported a bright, almost glowing green substance. As Daniel glanced around, he noticed more spots of green dotting the entire cave and tunnel ahead.
"Has anyone ever studied this stuff to find a cure?" he asked as they continued into the wide tunnel.
"Some do, off and on, but no one's made any advancements," Ian replied with a shrug.
"Research isn't my field, but I'd love to know how the mold affects memory," Daniel mused as they continued through the tunnels.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Ian pulled his map out and took a look at it in the light from a gap in the rocky ceiling.
"What do you mean?"
He laughed shortly. "You seem to be curious about everything, obsessively."
"Wondering about something I've never seen before, that's not obsessive," Daniel defended. "Standing in these tunnels pondering it until it drove me mad, that would be obsessive." He shook his head and realized talking into the mask was heating it up pretty quickly. "Are you telling me you never wonder about anything?"
Ian shrugged, then pocketed the map and continued walking. "Sure, I suppose. I'm just not used to guiding people who've never been here before."
Daniel would have commented, but his face was starting to sweat and he didn't know if condensation would become an issue or not.
They continued on for what felt like miles, but with all the turning and changes in direction, it was impossible to tell. Often the tunnel opened up to more of a narrow alley with rough, vertical walls, then the light would dim as the walls closed over, turning their path back into an enclosed tunnel.
The mold that grew in thick clumps along nearly every inch of the rock face also glowed with a bright bioluminescence, providing enough light to see by as they traversed the maze.
Since it wasn't safe to remove the gas masks for even a second, and it was impossible to eat or drink with them on, they forged ahead without stopping. Ian estimated another hour and they'd be in the clear.
"I'd love to bring a sample of this stuff back with me," Daniel said as he passed close by a large clump of mold. "For all we know, this place could hold cures for all sorts of things."
"I don't see how something that dangerous could be a cure for anything." Ian folded the map again and shook his head. "It takes your memory, it doesn't restore it."
"But anything that works that quickly, on one specific part of the brain such as memory, could hold a key no one's found before," Daniel explained.
"Well you can't just scoop that stuff up and put it in your pocket," Ian countered. "Maybe next time you'll come prepared."
"Next time?"
Ian shrugged. "You're so damned curious, you really think you won't come back after you find your way home? Assuming there is a way. And there really is a home?"
Daniel was about to answer when they suddenly found themselves confronted by a naked man, blocking their path.
"Who are you?" The man demanded. He wore no mask and had a wild, desperate expression.
Ian held his arm out, preventing Daniel from stepping any closer to the stranger. "Do you know your name?"
Without another word, the man launched toward them, screaming, hands held out like a cat intending to scratch its prey's eyes out.
"Hold on!" Daniel called as he stepped back.
Ian held up an arm and deflected the attack easily. "He's gone, probably doesn't even know he's human anymore."
The naked man stumbled backward, turned around, then saw them again and waved. "Hello, how may I help you?"
"Is he . . .?"
"He's probably been in here for days," Ian explained. "There's nothing we can do for him."
"We can get him out of here," Daniel countered. "He'll die wandering around in here like that."
Ian nodded, then took a step forward. "Come with us, we'll take you back to the village, maybe find your family."
The naked man smiled, offering a hand to shake. Then, in a flash, he reached up and pulled Ian's mask off.
Daniel rushed forward, but the man yelped and vanished down a side tunnel. He started after him, but Ian grabbed his arm.
"Forget him! He's long gone."
"But he's--"
"He's gone," Ian insisted. "There's nothing you can do but get lost looking for him."
Instinct insisted he hunt the man down, drag him out of those tunnels and find someone to care for him. But logic won out. Daniel had no idea where he'd gone, or how to find him and get back out again if they left the prescribed trail.
Reluctantly, he nodded. "Let's get out of here then, before I change my mind. Which way now?"
"What?"
"Which way?" Daniel pointed to the path ahead, where three tunnels branched off in all different directions.
Ian blinked. "Which way for what?"
"The maze, which -- oh God."
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