Deadly Forest: A Green Witch Mystery, page 17
“Make that five pairs,” Isobel said.
“Excuse me?” Nel asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
“I’m coming too.” Her tone was definite.
Nel blinked a few times. “Are you certain? It’s probably not very safe—”
Isobel’s eyes squinted so tight, Nel might’ve started questioning his own existence. “Are you trying to say I can’t handle a bit of dirt?”
Nel hastily threw up his hands, warding off the imminent storm. “Perish the thought, Dr Dupre. I just figured you’d prefer the pristine order of a lab to the chaos of nature.”
Sniffing, Isobel lifted her chin. “And I suppose you’d rather be sipping overpriced drinks in some dimly lit club.”
“Only if they come with tiny umbrellas,” Nel said.
Oh dear. It was going to be an interesting hike.
CHAPTER 19
“I’ve got a stash of torches we can use,” Grandpa said, diffusing the brewing tension like a referee at a particularly spirited tennis match. “Let me grab them.”
Toto wasn’t about to be left out. He leapt from his chair and trailed behind Grandpa. One second, he was a furry little fluffball on four legs, and the next, he was hopping through the doorway as a wedge-tailed eagle.
Kai and Rhianne sprang into action, tackling the mountain of dishes like a well-oiled machine, while Isobel found sudden fascination in everything but Nel’s presence.
Not long after, Grandpa reemerged, armed with an arsenal of torches. Kai waved off the offer of one, brandishing his gadget-filled backpack like a knight flaunting his sword.
“Do you think you might need to borrow some gear from Grandpa?” Rhianne asked Nel, eyeing his impeccable, light-coloured designer suit. Nel wouldn’t have packed anything appropriate for a hike. Heck, he probably didn’t own anything suitable. His wardrobe, a mecca for the style-obsessed, would have never got the memo about the great outdoors.
“I’ll be fine, princess,” Nel said.
“Uh-huh.” Her eyebrows arched. She could already sympathise with the poor soul at the dry cleaner, who’d have the herculean task of battling the stains from his clothes.
They set out with Grandpa at the helm, striding with confidence, followed by Kai and Rhianne trying to keep up with his brisk pace. Bringing up the rear were Isobel and Nel, engaged in a whispered argument about appropriate bush attire.
Toto took flight, and Rhianne lost sight of him amidst the darkness.
The landscape transformed under the cover of night. The once friendly trees acquired an intimidating air, their branches reaching out like gnarled hands in the dark. And amidst the shadows, the hoot of a tawny frogmouth sounded like a warning.
Kai adjusted his headlamp, casting beams ahead as he periodically glanced at his device, searching for the dot signalling Asher’s phone location.
“Has the signal moved?” Rhianne asked after a few minutes.
Kai shook his head and light from his headgear bounced across the ferns and trees. “Nope.”
Darn it. It didn’t mean Asher was hurt or worse, but it wasn’t reassuring either.
Whoever claimed the countryside was quiet hadn’t spent much time in it. The cacophony of branches swaying, possums hustling, and even the occasional koala’s snarly conversation kept Rhianne’s adrenaline pumping.
At least Isobel and Nel had finally quieted down. Rhianne glanced back to check on them, surprised by their stealthy movements. She recalled Carl’s comment about Isobel’s effective evasion during the altercation with the drug dealers. That incident had sparked Rhianne’s wild theory about Isobel being a ghost. Could that explain her aversion to romantic entanglements? But Isobel had hinted at a danger to others, which didn’t quite fit the ghost theory.
Lost in her thoughts, Rhianne missed their arrival until Kai gave her a gentle poke, snapping her back to reality and prompting her to take in the surroundings.
The scenery didn’t offer much of a change from when they’d set off, except for a random collection of large bushrocks positioned for tired hikers to take a break.
Toto landed on a nearby branch. “I have detected the presence of metallic elements in proximity to those rock formations.”
But Kai was already two steps ahead, having fished out the phone from a sneaky little hidey hole in the rocks.
“Do you think he dropped it by mistake?” Rhianne asked.
Everyone pointed their torches at the spot Kai was checking, and he waved Rhianne over. She stumbled as she got to his side, not exactly grace in action, and squinted into the crevice now lit by Kai’s phone.
“Look how this is tucked in,” Kai pointed out. “There’s no way it just fell in. He must’ve hidden it here on purpose, probably to keep it dry and out of sight.”
“So, he was playing hide and seek with his phone?” Nel asked, his eyebrows doing a little dance of disbelief. “To keep it off the radar?”
Isobel, who had joined them, rolled her eyes. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Got a history of dodging trackers or overzealous ex-lovers, have we?” She barely waited for a breath before ploughing on, “But the million-dollar question is, did Asher know that too?”
Grandpa scratched his head. “That boy was pretty sharp with gadgets and all.”
“I’m sure he knew, which is why he left it here and turned on,” Kai said.
Rhianne understood what he meant. “He wanted to be tracked.” The realisation lifted a weight off her shoulders. She’d hoped he hadn’t just bolted, and this felt like solid proof. “Why leave it here, though? Why not have it on him at his actual stopping point?”
Kai climbed down the bushrock and fiddled with Asher’s phone. “There’s a couple of sensible guesses for that. One, he might’ve thought this was where he’d end up staying.”
“Or two,” Isobel added, leaning over to glimpse the phone screen, “he thought that whoever kidnapped him would take it from him.”
“That could’ve been when he worked out he was being kidnapped.” Rhianne started combing through the rocks. “Maybe he left other clues for us to find.”
Grandpa sprang into action, shining his torch over a nearby area as he crouched down to inspect it more closely. Isobel and Nel followed suit, casting their lights into the other corners of the scene.
“His scent is potent in this vicinity,” Toto said. “I shall take to the skies and ascertain if his trail can be discerned.” With those words, Toto leapt from his perch and soared into the darkness.
Kai was engrossed with Asher’s phone so Rhianne joined in the search. As she got to an area the others hadn’t explored, her senses tingled. She stopped, tilted her head, and shut her eyes, trying to home in on a strange dissonance.
Something was off.
With her eyes still closed, she shuffled toward the sound, like she was playing a game of Marco Polo with herself. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but it was not the usual nighttime chorus. The further she went, the quieter everything else got, until all she could focus on was that strange, off-beat rhythm.
A sharp scent hit her nostrils. Not just any smell, but the gross, heavy stink from a swamp that’s had one too many things rot in it. The kind that made her want to turn around and leave, but also meant she was probably onto something.
The air got thick and heavy, like walking through a dense miasma, and her ears did this weird pop thing. Alarmed, she snapped her eyes open, only to realise she must have wandered off from the group. Twisting around, she looked for any sign of the others’ torchlights, but nada. Zip. How could she have ended up so far off track? She hadn’t walked that much.
And if she thought the earlier part of their hike felt a bit off, with the trees giving her a menacing sense, this was next level. The tall gum trees around her seemed like they’d had a few too many and were leaning in close, getting all up in her personal space. Rhianne, trying to back away from their threatening advances, missed her step and ended up landing right on her butt.
The earth began to rumble and tremble. It hadn’t been that long ago, when she’d first arrived in Grandpa’s backyard, that the ground had opened up and almost crushed her. She looked around, and her only chance was perhaps to climb the trees, but something told her that was not a good idea.
“Kai! Grandpa!” Rhianne shouted, her voice slicing through the silence. But all she got back was an echo of her own worry.
The ground beneath her started shaking like a bad dance floor, and Rhianne scrambled to her feet, taking a step back for some stability. Bad move. A branch, acting like it had a personal vendetta against her, whacked her across the arms, leaving a sting and pushing her forward as the earth opened up right in front of her.
Her heart pounded hard in her chest, but years of training in capoeira classes weren’t just for show. She had the moves, the agility, and, more importantly, the quick reflexes. Dancing away like she was avoiding a kick sent her way, she leapt towards a bush on her left, narrowly escaping the invitation to the world’s least wanted pool party.
In front, a sinkhole yawned wide enough to swallow a small-sized backyard, confirming someone had set a trap — and they weren’t messing around.
The stench of decay condensed, nearly tangible, as Rhianne cast around for a way out. The fog, thick and stubborn, wrapped around her little patch of the woods like cotton wool. It stretched out, enclosing the trees in a hundred-foot bubble. She couldn’t see beyond it, and it was likely no one could see in either. By this point, the gang would’ve noticed her absence. Could Grandpa’s spells punch through this misty cloak?
As she puzzled over the setup, a lightbulb moment struck her. The fog and the trap became active the moment she tapped into her dryad magic. Someone had laid this trap with precise knowledge of her abilities, using her connection to nature against her. That they knew to prepare for her magic twisted her stomach into knots.
The silver lining? This trap hinted that Asher might actually be close by — a beacon of hope in her current predicament. But the downside was that Rhianne was at a loss for how to breach this mystical barrier.
To make matters even stickier, the sinkhole had sealed up as if it never existed, but the ground had begun its unsettling dance once again, sending tremors through her feet.
Requesting support from the towering trees didn’t seem like a good idea. If trees could hold grudges, these ones did — not that she’d done anything to them. Their imposing figures loomed, not as guardians but as silent accusers, adding an eerie layer of animosity to the air that made Rhianne’s skin crawl.
Amid the eeriness, a song waltzed into Rhianne’s ears, carried on the breeze. It was a melody unfamiliar to her ears, youthful and clear. For a fleeting moment, she wondered; Asher? But no, the realisation dawned as quickly as the hope had sparked; the voice was unmistakably female. With each cautious step back, drawn by the siren song, Rhianne found herself brushing against a young tree at the very fringe of the foggy barrier.
As soon as she touched the tree, her mind was awash with images, rapid and fuzzy like an old film reel. Emotions of comfort, a sense of belonging, and the warmth of safety enveloped her, yet these feelings were fringed with a shadowy caution, tinting the edges of her consciousness with a whisper of danger.
“I don’t understand,” Rhianne muttered as the ground under her feet decided to throw a mini-rave, tremors pulsing through the earth like bass through speakers.
True to her suspicion, the fog was like an invisible wall — no getting through that. Her mind’s eye flickered to life again with new images, cranking up the urgency like a suspense movie reaching its climax.
She saw the roots of the young tree she had inadvertently befriended, stretching down, down, into the unknown — diving into a darkness that pulsed.
A weird mix of annoyance and worry that wasn’t all her own gnawed at Rhianne — maybe the tree was getting upset too? The ground shook like it was laughing at a joke she didn’t get, and it opened under her like a yawning chasm. As she tried to grab onto her tree friend, its branches shoved her.
As Rhianne tumbled down, the branches jiggled like the tree was waving goodbye with the leaves.
Kind of rude, really.
Rhianne inhaled the cool, dark air below; proof that it was time to ‘unfriend’ the sapling. Double-crossed by a tree and betrayed by a buddy with bark. And yes, she’d fallen for it — literally.
But the fall turned out to be more of a hop than the epic plunge she’d braced for. Rhianne landed on her feet, kind of like a cat, if that cat had two left feet.
Right in front of her, an opening appeared next to what she guessed were the roots of her so-called tree friend. Her mind was bombarded with visions of movement and the mysterious cave that lay ahead.
The entrance was about as wide as a large pizza box, meaning she’d have to crawl. “Nope, not happening,” she muttered, as if the cave might change its mind and widen itself just to accommodate her.
Rhianne glanced up, wondering if she could climb back out. But nope, the walls had other ideas, starting to squeeze together like they were trying to give her a very solid hint. That urgent nudge in her mind pushed her again, the mysterious song cranking up its volume as if shouting, “Move it, lady!”
To trust or not to trust? Well, it seemed like the universe was making that call for her as a cloud of dust kicked up behind her, deciding on a firm ‘trust’ on her behalf.
Down she went, on all fours, into the natural underground tunnel. The confined space made her skin prickle with unease, a sensation she despised. Glancing back with a mix of alarm and ‘Are you kidding me?’ the space where she’d landed closed off, now a wall.
Great. Trapped underground.
On the positive side, the weird shuffle and rumble of the earth had stopped. She must’ve crawled right out of the spooky fog’s reach. So, trapped, yes, but also potentially safe from whatever was shaking up the surface.
A calming tune played in her mind, like a gentle prod to move forward or perhaps a playful tease at her situation; Rhianne wasn’t sure which. But it kept her going, inch by inch.
She mentally high-fived herself for choosing jeans this morning instead of shorts. The thought of navigating this underground maze with bare legs was enough to make her shudder. Thanks to her denim armour, she would be spared from turning her legs into a scratch map.
Onwards and — hopefully — upwards.
CHAPTER 20
Rhianne contemplated the seemingly shrinking tunnel ahead. The passage, barely wider than her shoulders and tapering slightly downward, promised an uncomfortable journey.
A tightness gripped her chest as she inhaled the musty air, her palms slick against the cool rock.
The air was pungent, making each breath a laborious task. How miners and early explorers did this day in and day out baffled her. The limestone walls pressed close, suffused with a damp chill that seeped into her bones, forcing her to navigate forward in a slow, methodical crawl.
Time took on a peculiar quality, stretching to what felt like an eternity but was probably closer to twenty minutes. Her muscles screamed in protest. Her ponytail waged war with every rock it encountered. In a last-ditch effort to keep her hair off her face, she resorted to blowing at the fringe that insisted on tickling her nose, only to have it flop back.
Clutching her grandpa’s torch, she struggled to crawl through the narrow, damp tunnel. She placed it into her mouth, biting down on the cold, bitter metal, but soon had to pause to remove it and wipe her mouth. Frustrated, she shoved the torch into the top pocket of her jacket. As it bounced against her chest, erratic shadows danced on the crumbling walls ahead.
Her journey was punctuated by the symphony of her grunts and the occasional, indignant squawk when her hair got caught yet again.
Sweat dripped down her face. It blurred her vision, transforming the already treacherous cave into a fuzzy, impressionist painting where every crawl was a gamble. She reached up to wipe the sweat away, only to realise she was smearing dirt across her cheeks.
Every few metres, she stopped for a reality check, as if expecting the cave’s interior to suddenly transform into a cosy living room. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.
The same unchanging scenery of rocks, dirt, and the occasional, suspiciously crunchy unknowns underfoot mocked her. “Great,” she muttered, “lost in a geological time capsule.” Her phone, of course, had no signal, and that meant that Kai wouldn’t be able to track her location.
Progress felt like an abstract concept in this underground maze. The initial triumphs of dodging a fog trap and a sinkhole now felt like distant victories in a land where moving forward meant greeting the same décor over and over.
The motivational song that had been her mental soundtrack had fizzled out, leaving her in a silence so profound, she could hear her own heartbeat — or was that the sound of her patience thudding against the cave walls?
Under normal circumstances, Rhianne might confess her aversion to small spaces. But calling her current situation ‘cramped’ would be akin to likening a dragon’s fiery breath to the warmth of a tea candle. Her breathing quickened, and it wasn’t just from the physical exertion. Muscle weakness transformed each attempt to crawl into an exercise in endurance, her limbs protesting with sharp jabs of pain.
The thought of lying down, closing her eyes, and taking an impromptu dirt nap seemed almost luxurious at this point. Rhianne halted her subterranean shuffle, tempted by the prospect. Considering her progress — or the lack thereof — stopping might not be the worst strategy.
If Kai was trying to locate her with a phone that didn’t work, would staying stationary help in this underground game of “Where in the World is Rhianne Alkenn?” Wasn’t there a rule about staying with the vehicle if stranded in the desert?
The notion of turning tail and crawling back the way she came gave Rhianne a brief pause. But considering her current squeeze, a graceful pivot was more of a fantasy than an option — she might as well have been a T-Rex trying to somersault in a phone booth.
