Into the Deep Wood

“Marat?”

“Hm?”

“I'm not sure, but... I think the All-Mother just married us…”

Both fairly rattled, the fig wine’s effects replaced by lethargy and shaking hands, they walked back toward town, not wishing to return to the celebration.

“I think, maybe, there are bigger things to discuss first, Val.” He scratched the back of his head where dry grass had gotten tangled in his hair and now scratched beneath his shirt. “Never mind that.”

“Those people…” Val was shuffling her feet. They felt as if her shoes had been made of lead. “Why were they there…”

“I don’t know, but it is my fault. We shouldn’t have indulged them.” He stopped, “At this point, perhaps I should stick to water.”

He sighed deeply, throwing his head back.

“There was a ritual, and no ritual is without consequences. Val, we have to find out what happened. Now.” He said, looking back at where the fires still blazed down the hill, the buzz of people vibrating through the air.

“How?”

“I have to go to the All-Mother’s house. That is our best chance. Right now is our best chance.” He said, turning to her apologetically. “I’m sorry to say this, Val, but you must return. You have to go and ensure she does not return while I am there.”

“What? I cannot go back to those people! What am I supposed to say!” She nervously rattled off. “You’re welcome for the show?”

“Val, please.”

She paused. The images of the girl being dragged by the creature into the river were vivid in her thoughts. There were going to be consequences for them, too.

“Alright.”

Despite the empty streets, Marat crept up along the back fence that faced nothing but the trees. He entered through a window left open in the suffocating summer heat. The smell of advanced age hung in the air, and remnants of days spent cooking still lingered around the kitchen.

He quickly touched through any chest, bookshelf, and buffet, although his joints ached, begging for rest. The ledger was there, as well as others documenting many things about town. Names, numbers, a list of wineries, how far the farms had stretched and how much land was given organized by year and then the farmer’s name who had received it. Nothing.

He lifted the mattress and checked every cabinet in the kitchen. He searched for loose floorboards and spaces behind the oven. All he had found was a small prayer corner with a single candle half melted on a low table. Nothing.

He’d spent too long there. He heard the first of the townspeople begin to return, speaking loudly and drunkenly as they walked past the fence.

Marat slipped out the window and walked back to the cottage. Thinking of every god he had ever learned about, he recited any that would have fertility rituals. Nothing.

He could still feel the tingle at the back of his neck reminiscent of the euphoria experienced.

He opened the door and stopped in his tracks.

In the middle of the room stood Asha, her hair down and completely naked.

She stood with both the bravery of a self-assured woman and the shyness of a still virgin girl. When she heard the door open, she quickly straightened her back and pushed a single strand of hair out of her face.

“I was supposed to choose you.” She said with feigned crossness. “I saw her come back without you.

Marat slowly closed the door behind him, cutting off the candle’s light to the yard.

“Asha–” He started, his tone cold and reprimanding.

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE YOU!” She screamed, her hands curling in fists. “I was chosen. I knew I would be, and I was supposed to choose you!”

“Calm down.” He said, softer and more nervously.

“It’s not too late!” She stepped toward him, her strides long, her hands taking hold and pulling at his shirt. He tried to shake her off, but she pressed her entire body into him. “It’s not too late; we will make a god together. She couldn’t do that for you.”

Had she been taller, she might have succeeded in the kiss she attempted. But, he pulled away, sending her stumbling back.

“Asha, that is ENOUGH.” He raised his voice and saw immediately that her face dropped in fear. “Leave. Now.”

Her face reddened and grew angry.

“She isn’t even beautiful! I am! I’ll do whatever you ask!” Her words were meant to sound strong but tapered into a pathetic tone, pleading and high-pitched. “Whatever you want! You can do with me… I’ll die if you send me away!”

Something in her tone sounded off.

“I do not want another; if I do not give them a child, they will take me to the river!” She was crying now, her face twisting.

“Leave.” His words were final, firm. But, too late.

The door behind him creaked, and Val stepped into the room. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion but quickly lost their dullness at the scene before her.

Here stood Marat and the green-eyed girl. She had been nude, the single candle lit in the room flickering light across her body, her caftan discarded by the bed.

She looked at Marat and his suddenly pale face, then at the young girl, her expression full of simple, singular thoughts and feelings. Val recognized herself in that, a girl afraid to be left alone in the woods.

This girl looked as if she had been left alone in the woods as well.

“Leave!” Marat’s voice had ceased restraint, and even Val flinched.

Asha’s chest heaved at the suppressed sobs. Her jaw clenched, but she turned and, with shaking hands, pulled on her caftan. Val stepped aside, forcing the girl to open the door herself.

The girl shot Marat a final look, so full of hate and loathing that Val knew without a doubt the girl had not succeeded there tonight.

The door slammed behind her with a violent thud. Marat turned to her, his breathing strained and eyes reflecting still burning anger.

“I think, maybe, we should talk?” Val asked quietly. But he shook his head.

“There is nothing to speak of. She saw me kill the changeling.” He said bluntly.

He sat down hard on the bed, rubbing his temples. His entire body ached.

“What did you find?” She asked, sitting beside him, slipping her shoes off and kicking them away.

“Not a thing.”

They sat in silence for a while longer, each dreading moving to get into bed and remaining upright.

“Val.” He said in a low voice. She looked at him, but his eyes were lost somewhere ahead of him. “I think they poison these girls. I think they either force the divinity into them or they feed them to the river. I think that is what happened to your mother. I think your father rescued her from certain death."