Shades of Grey

CHEMIN DU JEUNESSE— MARCH 1843

Once the bag was removed after what felt like hours, I saw that Rodag and I were both tightly secured to separate posts facing each other at opposite ends of a very tall room made of crude mud bricks. A single skylight sat above us, letting in the early afternoon sunlight.

“How long has it been?” I asked with a dejected sigh, noting the vast amount of light.

“Probably about four hours, judging by the position of the sun. Have you contacted Forma yet?” he asked.

“No, and I won’t. It’s too dangerous for her to be in a forest full of Trenstors.”

Rodag looked at me with an underlying sense of piteous displeasure.

“She was willing to get herself killed by Tree Monsters to help you and you sent her away?” he asked pointedly.

“I can handle escaping from Trenstors,” I snapped back. “I’m not willing to risk her safety.”

“Doesn’t that come with the territory of Hunting: risking your safety?”

“Well this job does not exactly come with a step-by-step instruction manual! How about we switch roles and you can be the Hunter who has to destroy every Creature left over from the Rip and I will be the smart-alleck Nemorosa who seems to think he’s more amusing than he actually is!”

Rodag looked at me with his eyebrows raised, trying to suppress a laugh. He soon gave up and the small room was filled with his musical guffaws.

“Well, I’m so happy that my frustration amuses you!” I snapped.

“I’m sorry, but you are very entertaining when you’re angry!”

I ignored him and concentrated all of my energy on wrenching my hands out of the thick ropes…if I could just manage to…

“HUNTER!”

A tumultuous voice suddenly bellowed throughout the room, causing both Rodag and me to jump in surprise. Rodag looked to me (for the voice had come from behind him) and I shrugged unknowingly — nothing had entered the room.

“Yes?” I dared to ask.

“WHO ARE YOU TO DISRUPT THE SLUMBER OF THE TREES?” bellowed the rough voice.

“I am no one of importance, I am merely trying to pass through on my way to Cronamia,” I answered honestly.

For a moment there was no answer, and then I saw a cloth flap in the wall behind Rodag move slightly. A sycamore tree as tall as a Titan then walked into the room, shaking the very earth beneath us with each step and just barely grazing the ceiling with the top of his great branches.

“And why would a young Hunter like yourself be going to a dangerous country like Cronamia?” he inquired, leaning down over me. I shrank back against the post, staring at the tree with equal strength.

“I was enlisted by the steward of Xanthar to restore Her Majesty, Anesthia Riadas, to power. We have reason to suspect that she has been kidnapped by the Cronamian prince.”

The tree looked at me with sly contemplation.

“Where is your Maisling? All Hunters have them, don’t they?”

I looked down in ignominy.

“If she’s smart, then she listened to me and is now hiding somewhere. It was too much of a risk to have her stay.”

The tree stood and turned to Rodag.

“Why do you travel with him?” he asked, pointing a long branch intimidatingly at Rodag. “This one is a Creature, is he not?”

“Yes he is, but he is my guide. I need him!” I said forcefully, sensing the nonverbal threat in the Tree’s tone. The Tree noticed my desperation and smiled.

“How badly do you need him?”

The tree removed a long machete and ran it along Rodag’s arm, settling at his shoulder and leaving a long gash in its wake.

“Can you function adequately with a one-armed Nemorosa guide?”

“No!” I cried. “I need all of him!”

Rodag waited, frozen in fear as the tree then took the machete and raised it above his head ominously.

“PLEASE!” I begged again. Suddenly, the tree threw the machete through the air and lodged it in the wood of the post to which I was fastened, slicing my ropes in two. I opened my eyes and looked up at my newly freed hands.

“Are you not required by fate to kill all Creatures you see, thereby ridding the earth of the pollution caused by the Rip?” the Tree pressed.

“Yes, but…”

“Is it not forbidden for Hunters to fall in love at all?”

“Yes, but I…”

“Have you not broken the Hunter’s Code of Conduct and allowed yourself to love?!”

“Yes, but…”

“And is the object of your affection not a Creature?”

“YES! YES HE IS! I HAVE BROKEN THE CODE! I HAVE LOVED A CREATURE! I AM A FAILURE!!”

I collapsed to the ground and began to cry at my embarrassingly theatrical avowal. I wept insecurely on the floor and stared up at the tree, which looked at me with newly reformed disappointment.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” I quipped, tensing in fury. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Really? An incompetent Hunter doesn’t need pity?”

I looked up at the tree, recognising the familiar sarcastic inflection

“Forma?” I asked.

The huge tree nodded slowly.

“WHAT! Why?” I asked simply, wiping away my tears and looking at the thin stream of blood running down Rodag’s arm. Rodag looked at me with confusion at the lapse in conversation.

“It was the only way I could enter and help you escape,” she replied mentally.

“Forma! I told you to stay away!” I barked. “It’s too dangerous!”

“I’ve fooled them for this long, haven’t I? Now do you want to escape or not?”

Forma looked at me through the Trenstor eyes with the same familiar smirk and I felt instant relief, even though I would later castigate her for her interrogation tactics.

“Alright, what’s the plan?”