Wolf Read - The Flowers That Bloom in the Spring

The hill had been carved steeply by the creek. Annwn, in her flat-soled shoes, found herself slipping much of the time. Miranda fared no better, and the boys had been struggling with the cart since morning.

Wildwind, in an obvious attempt to make up, tied the cart’s lead to a thin circuleaf tree trunk and offered her a hand up a difficult part of the slope.

“Forget it,” she snapped.

He looked sincerely disappointed. “Come on—we all need help from time to time.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t need it from you. Now, out of my way!”

Frowning, he went back to pulling the sled and its precious cargo up the hill, holding the line over his shoulder and across the top of the backpack. He wore the pack in place of Miranda, who had a hard time carrying its weight uphill.

“I hope there aren’t too many more of these ridges,” he said. “I’m getting sick of them.”

Kwazar, having returned from a short scouting trip, shook his head as he stepped downhill. “Well, I’m sure there are many more ridges to cross.”

“Shit.” Wildwind yanked the cart forward.

“Annwn,” Kwazar asked, “could you lead now? There’s a steep part coming up, and I have to help pull the cart.” He pointed up the animal trail they followed through the forest. “Those rocks need to be moved.”

She grimly nodded, staring at the half-buried, head-sized boulders. They’d been taking turns clearing trail for the cart all day, and her arms were getting tired.

“I’ll help you,” said Miranda.

Annwn smiled at her friend. “Thanks. But don’t wear yourself out.”

“I’ll take things slow.”

Annwn picked up Xavier and put him on a less steep portion of the hill above her. Grabbing roots and small circuleaf branches, she climbed to Xavier’s new elevation. Turning around, she helped Miranda ascend by giving her a hand. Miranda's breath erupted from her mouth in gasps.

Annwn looked up at dark, ragged clouds swirling among rocky, broken mountain peaks. Wind whispered intermittently through naked boughs, nudging the wood into a clacking sway. An oppressive mugginess made her feel as if she were walking through water.

“Maybe we should stop,” said Annwn nervously.

A large raindrop plunged through the branches and burst across Miranda’s face. “Maybe it’s too late.” She rubbed the water away.

“We better get ahead of the boys before it really begins to pour.” Using the skinny trees for balance and support, Annwn trudged upward.

She heard Miranda firmly planting her feet into the loamy ground, kicking the slick leaves aside.

“Ick!” said Miranda, “The soil’s full of bugs!”

Annwn had seen the animals, dark creatures that only slightly resembled beetles burrowing through the dirt and leaves in a swarm of gargantuan proportions. “Uh-huh. Just ignore them.”

“I’ll try.”

She reached the struggling boys.

A gust lashed the trees into a violent dance and an earth-shuddering clap of thunder followed the gale’s scramjet roar.

Rain cascaded down.

A virtual flood from the heavens, the downpour drenched everything with its lukewarm touch. Annwn shielded her eyes, discovering with irritation that water easily dripped between her bony fingers.

“What the hell?” said Wildwind. “I’ve never seen rain like this before. Not even in a Texas thunderstorm.”

“What do we do?” called out Miranda, her soft voice barely audible over the pounding water.

“We’ve got to get up to more level ground, don’t you think?” replied Kwazar. “This hill could give out on us.”

“Leave it to you to think like that,” said Annwn sarcastically. “How much farther do you think we have to go to get near the top?”

“Do we want to reach the top? What about the lightning?”

“We’ll have to take our chances, right? The water’s threat is more real.”

Thunder rolled, making everyone pause.

Xavier scampered up to her feet, whimpering. She picked him up and wrapped his wet body carefully in her cloak. She looked back at the waiting people. “We’ve got to do something.”

“OK,” said Kwazar, “why don’t we set up our camp at the first level place that we come across? We probably don’t have to travel far.”

Everyone agreed. At that moment, Annwn would have believed in miracles.

The two boys hauled the sled uphill, a job made worse by slippery leaves and ground quickly going to mud.

Impossible as it seemed, the deluge became heavier. Wind, turning colder with each rain-filled gust, shook trees as if they were pompoms. The hillside livened as a surge of water raced toward the creek below, leaves of all shades spinning and flipping to the torrent’s whim. The whole forest floor moved, a multicolored quilt on the fly.

Miranda grabbed Annwn’s waist and held tight. “I really don’t like this,” she said nervously.

“I don’t either. Just keep holding on to me.” She walked forward, carefully planting her feet in the leaf sludge. Cold liquid soaked her feet. Holding her tightly, Miranda followed.

Reverberating through the wood, a large gust knocked trees over. Annwn’s hands grew numb from sudden cold. The rain fell so hard that, she feared drowning with each breath.

Annwn encountered a spot where the hill became so steep that walking was impossible. She had to plant her feet into the hillside, poking them through a dirty waterfall, using roots and white-barked branches for handholds.

She turned to Miranda, “Wait here until I get up. Then I’ll give you a hand.” Pouring from her hair, water rushed into her mouth as she spoke.

Miranda nodded and Annwn climbed.

A large hand appeared in front of her face. Wildwind’s. She frowned. “I can get up myself.”

“Please.”

“No! I’ve told you!”

“I insist.”

She lost control and smacked his hand away. Arm swinging wide, she lost balance, and slipped. Grabbing a branch, she stopped her fall.

Xavier slid through her cloak and down the side of the hill. Yelping, he sailed over a lip and plummeted toward the deeply rushing creek.

“No. No!” cried Annwn as she turned to go after the puppy.

Wildwind jumped down next to her. “We’ve ourselves to save! Forget the dog.”

Annwn looked at him, her face contorting into a mask of rage. “Never! I’m getting Xavier back!”

“He’s dead. Nothing could survive the creek. Just look at it!”

She looked, and saw a turgid mass of shed foliage so thick that she was surprised the water could move at all. His argument convinced her. With a sob, she turned around and climbed.

An oscillating whine sliced pitifully through the hammering rain, sloshing creek and lashing wind, telling the world its woe. Annwn looked Wildwind straight in the eye and said, “I’m getting him!” She stepped down the gooey hillside.

Wildwind grabbed her arm.

Screaming with rage and wrenching her whole body, she yanked her frail limb free from his powerful grasp. Surprisingly, her forceful escape pulled Wildwind off balance. He fell down the steep slope where a bend in the stream had undermined the hill.

With a grunt, Wildwind had firm hold of the sled’s rear axle, which stuck out over the edge of the hill about chest height to Annwn. Tires and structural rail grinding through the sopping muddy soil, the cart slipped over the edge. Ropes that had been tied around a circuleaf tree pulled taut and abruptly stopped the sled’s plummet. Wildwind hung below, hard breaths erupting in steam from his nose, feet dangling four meters above a creek gone mad, a wet. hell of flame-colored leaves.

Annwn, confused by the unfortunate turn of events, fell to her knees, mouth agape. She didn’t know whether she should be fearing for Wildwind’s life, or wishing he would fall, or racing after the crying puppy, or trying to help someone who attempted to hold her against her will.