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I apologize in advance for any errors in grammar, usage, or plot. The excerpt will be edited soon.
Luke looks very relieved when I say I’ll go. It’s as if he actually needed my permission to clear his conscience of murdering me. There is something about the look in his eyes that make me wonder if I’ve been wrong this whole time. Surely what he has said about “his world” being in danger isn’t true. Then again, weirder things have happened. I’ll just have to see. I write a note for my parents saying that I was at Jasmin’s and would bum a ride back from her parents around dinnertime. That should be long enough to see whatever it is Luke plans on taking me to see.
“You might want comfier shoes,” Luke says. I guess my flip-flops aren’t good enough for him. I put on some tennis shoes and pull my hair into a messy bun. It’s hot out and it’s supposedly a long walk. I’d prefer my hair doesn’t get gross and sweaty. I wonder what Luke would think about that atrocity.
I make sure to toss my spare house key in my pocket and I lock everything up before Luke leads me out the back door and toward the field behind my house. Apparently roads aren’t a thing wherever he is from. He leads the way, making sure we don’t trip over thorn bushes or run into poison ivy and the like. We trudge through the length of the field until we reach the edge of the woods that meet the end of the grass. If we go any further, we’ll reach the town.
“Where are we going?” I ask, skeptical. Luke is probably messing with me. Or taking me to my death, either one.
“You’ll see. Just be patient,” Luke says. He holds a branch above my head for me so that I don’t have to duck into the treeline.
As soon as we enter the forest, the atmosphere shifts. Something feels different, but I can’t tell what. The colors change. They seem warmer somehow, if that makes sense. It is like sunset is getting near, but I know that it’s not. A little past the treeline, almost everything is cleared out. There are still trees, but there are no bushes or plants. The ground is flat, and everything seems organized. I hear birds singing and squirrels barking. I even see a deer in the distance. We walk further and I can hear the sound of running water. None of this is familiar, even though I’d been up to the treeline many times when I was younger.
Where are we?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Luke says, surprising me. I had been so distracted by the scenery that I nearly forgot he was there.
“And what am I thinking?” I ask.
“That I’m taking you to the middle of nowhere.”
“Of course I’m thinking that. How much further do we have to go to get to this world of yours?”
“It’s not much further now, we just have to cross the river.”
“Okay,” I say. There isn’t much else I could say. I don’t have much choice at this point. I would never be able to find my own way back now. Everything looks the same.
I hear the river get louder, but I never see it coming until we are right up on it. There is a near fifty foot drop down to the murky surface of the river. The speed of the rushing water takes my breath away. I can see the roots of nearby trees hang over the water, jutting out from the cliff. There are white wildflowers growing on the other side. It is beautiful. There is just one thing missing.
A bridge.
“So how do we get across?” I ask.
“There is a log bridge downriver. I just wanted to show you this particular spot,” Luke says.
“Why?”
“Because it’s the prettiest.”
“I’ll give you that,” I say.
The bridge isn’t much of a bridge. The river is narrower here. A few of the surrounding trees had been cut down and tied together and laid across the gap. There are five or six large stumps nearby , which I assume are from the particular trees that made the bridge. There isn’t anything supporting the bridge from beneath, nor anything attaching it to the sides of the river. At least, there weren’t any that I could see. There was nothing keeping this bridge together but gravity and a little bit of rope. There isn’t even a handrail. This looks totally safe.
Luke doesn’t seem to think twice before he steps onto one of the logs. I hesitate. He turns and reaches a hand toward me. “Going to be okay?” He asks.
“I feel like this is a terrible idea,” I say.
“Why?”
“Well, it’s not safe!”
“Yes it is. I promise!” Luke laughs. He takes a step toward me and takes my hand.
I accept the gesture and step up onto the bridge. At least it I fall, he’s coming with me, but if he falls, I can always let go. The bridge doesn’t budge as we cross. I try not to look down, but the thought of falling nauseates me. He holds his hand up as I step off the bridge.
How gentlemanly.
He releases my hand when I reach the ground. I feel my stomach sink a little and my hand feels tingly, as if it misses Lukes hand. One thing is for sure. I don’t.
We walk deeper into the forest. It begins to get thicker and greener, with bushes popping up here and there. The ground becomes rockier. In the distance, I see round, smooth boulders surrounding the largest tree I’ve seen in these woods. As we approach it I can see sunrays coming down and glittering off of a small pool of water. It is surrounded by cattails nearly as tall as me. The water reflects a mixture of the green leaves hanging above it. Luke climbs on to one of the boulders. A bluejay flies out of the big tree and past his head. He reaches down and helps me up.
The view is amazing. The trees trunk twists around itself until it reaches its roots. The dirt among the top of the root system has been washed away over the years, revealing the network of branches holding the tree to the ground. Tiny fish dart in and out of the roots and ducks swim peacefully on the other side of the pond. The water itself has a sort of magical quality. Its glittering surface is not coming from the sun. It still shines when a cloud passes across the sun.
Luke jumps from stone to stone, until he reaches the tree. I follow clumsily, surprising myself by not falling in. “Check this out,” He says. He runs his hand down the tree trunk, as if looking for something. When he finds the right spot, he knocks on it five times, one long knock, one short knock, and three medium knocks. He looks up and I follow his gaze.
Balls of light descend from the branches on glowing threads, like spiders lowering themselves from their webs. They are the color of caramel, and sparkle like lightning bugs. The have a sound, as if they’re singing. It is extremely quiet, but sweet. The melody has the same rhythm that Luke knocked on the trunk. It’s beautiful. They grow in number and everything gains an amber glow. I am surrounded by the syrup lights.
Suddenly, there are so many, that I don’t see Luke anymore. The lights encase me. I panic. I scream but I can’t hear it. The lights close in on me and I can’t see. I feel them dripping slowly through my body. I shake and my knees hit the ground. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. The lights’ song slams into my eardrums. I feel a hand on my shoulder. The lights are gone and everything is clear again.
“Wow,” Luke says.
“What the heck was that?” I scream and punch him in the stomach.
“Spirit detectors. They determine if someone has the spirit of a hero,” Luke explains.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Sure it does. It leaves a mark.”
“A mark?”
I begin to panic again. What kind of mark did this leave. I feel my face and check out my arms. I hope it’s not some sort of tattoo. How would my parents react to that? Ground me for life and send me to boarding school, probably. I hope it’s not visible. I’ll have to hide it.
“Don’t worry, Abby,” Luke says, laughing a little. “It’s reversible.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Well, sort of.”
“What do you mean sort of?” I ask. Why can’t he just be straight up with me, like ever?
“I mean you can turn it on and off. Kind of like flipping a switch. It takes a while to get used to doing though. I just leave it on. No good reason to turn it off,” He explains.
Well, that’s good. Because I have no idea that Luke has any sort of mark. That means it really can be hidden.
“So what is the mark?” I ask.
Luke gestures to the pond. “See for yourself.”
Puzzled, I crawl to the edge of the rock I’ve been sitting on and look into the water. I almost don’t recognize myself. My face is the same shape, but it seems smoother and my lips seem pinker. My hazel eyes have more green in them than they usually do. They are almost emerald. None of that is what strikes me, however. My stick-straight, dark brown hair has been replaced by golden tresses. It’s about as light blonde as it can get without being white. It hangs down my shoulders in loose curls. It is longer and healthier than before.
Is this real?
“And that’s a spirit mark,” Luke says.
I turn to him, and for the first time, I see his mark. His hair hadn’t turned quite as pale as mine had, but the contrast between his hair and eyes makes it clear he must have originally had dark hair. This isn’t exactly something that can be hidden easily. At least, not to people that knew us before the mark. I will have to hide this thing!
“So how do I turn it off?” I ask.
“It’s hard to explain. You kind of just have to think it off,” Luke says.
“Think it off?”
“Just kind of imagine the spirit detectors leaving your body. Going back up into the tree.”
I’m skeptical, but I might as well give it a chance. After all, a lot of weird things have happened. Such as pretty much everything in the past two days. I close my eyes and try to envision the syrupy lights rising through my body and back into the tree. I can almost feel them being dragged through my skin. My imaginary lights reach the leaves above me and I open my eyes. I shake my head and rejoice as my dark hair flops on my shoulders. I’m normal again!
“And that’s how it’s done,” Luke says. “So are you ready to hear about my world yet?”
“I’m at least a little curious,” I said sarcastically. I was ready to drink up this story.
“It’s about time for dinner,” Luke says. “I need to take you home.”
“No, you need to tell me what this is all about.”
“Maybe tomorrow. You can only handle so much at once.”
“Luke. Tell. Now.”
“No. We need to get you back home.”
Luke hopped off the rock and began to walk back to the house.
“You might want comfier shoes,” Luke says. I guess my flip-flops aren’t good enough for him. I put on some tennis shoes and pull my hair into a messy bun. It’s hot out and it’s supposedly a long walk. I’d prefer my hair doesn’t get gross and sweaty. I wonder what Luke would think about that atrocity.
I make sure to toss my spare house key in my pocket and I lock everything up before Luke leads me out the back door and toward the field behind my house. Apparently roads aren’t a thing wherever he is from. He leads the way, making sure we don’t trip over thorn bushes or run into poison ivy and the like. We trudge through the length of the field until we reach the edge of the woods that meet the end of the grass. If we go any further, we’ll reach the town.
“Where are we going?” I ask, skeptical. Luke is probably messing with me. Or taking me to my death, either one.
“You’ll see. Just be patient,” Luke says. He holds a branch above my head for me so that I don’t have to duck into the treeline.
As soon as we enter the forest, the atmosphere shifts. Something feels different, but I can’t tell what. The colors change. They seem warmer somehow, if that makes sense. It is like sunset is getting near, but I know that it’s not. A little past the treeline, almost everything is cleared out. There are still trees, but there are no bushes or plants. The ground is flat, and everything seems organized. I hear birds singing and squirrels barking. I even see a deer in the distance. We walk further and I can hear the sound of running water. None of this is familiar, even though I’d been up to the treeline many times when I was younger.
Where are we?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Luke says, surprising me. I had been so distracted by the scenery that I nearly forgot he was there.
“And what am I thinking?” I ask.
“That I’m taking you to the middle of nowhere.”
“Of course I’m thinking that. How much further do we have to go to get to this world of yours?”
“It’s not much further now, we just have to cross the river.”
“Okay,” I say. There isn’t much else I could say. I don’t have much choice at this point. I would never be able to find my own way back now. Everything looks the same.
I hear the river get louder, but I never see it coming until we are right up on it. There is a near fifty foot drop down to the murky surface of the river. The speed of the rushing water takes my breath away. I can see the roots of nearby trees hang over the water, jutting out from the cliff. There are white wildflowers growing on the other side. It is beautiful. There is just one thing missing.
A bridge.
“So how do we get across?” I ask.
“There is a log bridge downriver. I just wanted to show you this particular spot,” Luke says.
“Why?”
“Because it’s the prettiest.”
“I’ll give you that,” I say.
The bridge isn’t much of a bridge. The river is narrower here. A few of the surrounding trees had been cut down and tied together and laid across the gap. There are five or six large stumps nearby , which I assume are from the particular trees that made the bridge. There isn’t anything supporting the bridge from beneath, nor anything attaching it to the sides of the river. At least, there weren’t any that I could see. There was nothing keeping this bridge together but gravity and a little bit of rope. There isn’t even a handrail. This looks totally safe.
Luke doesn’t seem to think twice before he steps onto one of the logs. I hesitate. He turns and reaches a hand toward me. “Going to be okay?” He asks.
“I feel like this is a terrible idea,” I say.
“Why?”
“Well, it’s not safe!”
“Yes it is. I promise!” Luke laughs. He takes a step toward me and takes my hand.
I accept the gesture and step up onto the bridge. At least it I fall, he’s coming with me, but if he falls, I can always let go. The bridge doesn’t budge as we cross. I try not to look down, but the thought of falling nauseates me. He holds his hand up as I step off the bridge.
How gentlemanly.
He releases my hand when I reach the ground. I feel my stomach sink a little and my hand feels tingly, as if it misses Lukes hand. One thing is for sure. I don’t.
We walk deeper into the forest. It begins to get thicker and greener, with bushes popping up here and there. The ground becomes rockier. In the distance, I see round, smooth boulders surrounding the largest tree I’ve seen in these woods. As we approach it I can see sunrays coming down and glittering off of a small pool of water. It is surrounded by cattails nearly as tall as me. The water reflects a mixture of the green leaves hanging above it. Luke climbs on to one of the boulders. A bluejay flies out of the big tree and past his head. He reaches down and helps me up.
The view is amazing. The trees trunk twists around itself until it reaches its roots. The dirt among the top of the root system has been washed away over the years, revealing the network of branches holding the tree to the ground. Tiny fish dart in and out of the roots and ducks swim peacefully on the other side of the pond. The water itself has a sort of magical quality. Its glittering surface is not coming from the sun. It still shines when a cloud passes across the sun.
Luke jumps from stone to stone, until he reaches the tree. I follow clumsily, surprising myself by not falling in. “Check this out,” He says. He runs his hand down the tree trunk, as if looking for something. When he finds the right spot, he knocks on it five times, one long knock, one short knock, and three medium knocks. He looks up and I follow his gaze.
Balls of light descend from the branches on glowing threads, like spiders lowering themselves from their webs. They are the color of caramel, and sparkle like lightning bugs. The have a sound, as if they’re singing. It is extremely quiet, but sweet. The melody has the same rhythm that Luke knocked on the trunk. It’s beautiful. They grow in number and everything gains an amber glow. I am surrounded by the syrup lights.
Suddenly, there are so many, that I don’t see Luke anymore. The lights encase me. I panic. I scream but I can’t hear it. The lights close in on me and I can’t see. I feel them dripping slowly through my body. I shake and my knees hit the ground. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. The lights’ song slams into my eardrums. I feel a hand on my shoulder. The lights are gone and everything is clear again.
“Wow,” Luke says.
“What the heck was that?” I scream and punch him in the stomach.
“Spirit detectors. They determine if someone has the spirit of a hero,” Luke explains.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Sure it does. It leaves a mark.”
“A mark?”
I begin to panic again. What kind of mark did this leave. I feel my face and check out my arms. I hope it’s not some sort of tattoo. How would my parents react to that? Ground me for life and send me to boarding school, probably. I hope it’s not visible. I’ll have to hide it.
“Don’t worry, Abby,” Luke says, laughing a little. “It’s reversible.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Well, sort of.”
“What do you mean sort of?” I ask. Why can’t he just be straight up with me, like ever?
“I mean you can turn it on and off. Kind of like flipping a switch. It takes a while to get used to doing though. I just leave it on. No good reason to turn it off,” He explains.
Well, that’s good. Because I have no idea that Luke has any sort of mark. That means it really can be hidden.
“So what is the mark?” I ask.
Luke gestures to the pond. “See for yourself.”
Puzzled, I crawl to the edge of the rock I’ve been sitting on and look into the water. I almost don’t recognize myself. My face is the same shape, but it seems smoother and my lips seem pinker. My hazel eyes have more green in them than they usually do. They are almost emerald. None of that is what strikes me, however. My stick-straight, dark brown hair has been replaced by golden tresses. It’s about as light blonde as it can get without being white. It hangs down my shoulders in loose curls. It is longer and healthier than before.
Is this real?
“And that’s a spirit mark,” Luke says.
I turn to him, and for the first time, I see his mark. His hair hadn’t turned quite as pale as mine had, but the contrast between his hair and eyes makes it clear he must have originally had dark hair. This isn’t exactly something that can be hidden easily. At least, not to people that knew us before the mark. I will have to hide this thing!
“So how do I turn it off?” I ask.
“It’s hard to explain. You kind of just have to think it off,” Luke says.
“Think it off?”
“Just kind of imagine the spirit detectors leaving your body. Going back up into the tree.”
I’m skeptical, but I might as well give it a chance. After all, a lot of weird things have happened. Such as pretty much everything in the past two days. I close my eyes and try to envision the syrupy lights rising through my body and back into the tree. I can almost feel them being dragged through my skin. My imaginary lights reach the leaves above me and I open my eyes. I shake my head and rejoice as my dark hair flops on my shoulders. I’m normal again!
“And that’s how it’s done,” Luke says. “So are you ready to hear about my world yet?”
“I’m at least a little curious,” I said sarcastically. I was ready to drink up this story.
“It’s about time for dinner,” Luke says. “I need to take you home.”
“No, you need to tell me what this is all about.”
“Maybe tomorrow. You can only handle so much at once.”
“Luke. Tell. Now.”
“No. We need to get you back home.”
Luke hopped off the rock and began to walk back to the house.