Andrew Buckley - Stiltskin

Robert rubbed his temples. Something in his mind twitched uncomfortably. He felt for a moment that he was back home and he’d just woken up in his elementary school teacher’s flower garden with no memory of how he got there. “Look, what do you remember about the halfway house?”

“There was a fire,” said Lily, “we all got out alive and then spent the rest of the night here.”

“But you don’t remember the cat?”

“What cat?”

“He was small and fuzzy, black and orange, and the fire didn’t like him. He’s the only reason I made it out of the halfway house in the first place.”

“Robert,” said Lily as if she was talking to a little boy in kindergarten who had just wet himself, “you’ve been through a lot during the past twenty-four hours. Maybe you dreamt it and it just felt real?”

The twitch in Robert’s mind turned into an itch, then it pulsated, and then it burned, and then… nothing. It was as if something clicked. A little voice in Robert’s mind that sounded a lot like Robert said, “Maybe she’s right, maybe we dreamt it.”

“Who the hell was that?” said Robert.

“Who was what?” said Lily, looking concerned now.

Robert looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it was a dream,” he agreed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Lily.

“Yes, we’re fine,” said the voice in Robert’s head.

“Yes, I agree we’re fine,” said Robert. This is it . I’m losing my mind.

“Oh no, I’m sure we’re okay,” said the voice.

“All right, if you say so,” conceded Robert.

Lily and the Gnomes stared at him.

“What?”

“I think we should get moving,” said Lily in the fond hope that changing the subject would make the weirdness go away. “If we absolutely have to speak to the Historian, I’d rather do it well before nightfall.”

Lily and the Gnomes set off along the path, Gnick and General Gnarly deep in conversation. Maybe it was Robert’s paranoia but he felt like they were talking about him.

“They’re probably talking about us,” agreed the voice.

“Really, you think so?” Robert asked the voice.

“Most likely.”

“Well, what do you think they’re talking about?”

“Probably about how you’re standing here talking to no one in particular.”

“Well, you’re me, right? So really I’m just talking to myself.”

“That’s just as weird, you know?”

“Look, just shut up, I’m having enough trouble with everything today without me making it worse.”

“Yeah, that’s strange about the cat.”

“I’m not talking to you anymore,” said Robert resolutely.

“Suit yerself,” said the voice.

It should have worried Robert that he was not only hearing voices but also holding full conversations with them.

“Voice,” said the voice.

“What?” said Robert.

“Voice, not voices. Singular, not plural. You’re just hearing the one voice.”

“Oh right. Thanks.”

But for some reason, and just as equally disturbing, it didn’t feel weird at all. It didn’t worry him. It simply felt like it was the right way for things to go. The disappearance of the cat actually worried him more.

Robert took a moment to examine his surroundings. It’s true that there were no signs of a cat being anywhere in the area, although aside from maybe a hairball or poop, Robert couldn’t think of anything else that would show the presence of a cat.

Did I really dream it all?

“Who knows?” said the voice in his head.

And now his own mind was arguing with him. It had never done that before. Robert felt different today and he couldn’t decide whether it was a good different or a bad different or a completely indifferent different. But whatever it was, as Robert turned and followed the others to find that Lily was waiting for him, he decided that today was probably going to be one of those days . Whatever that meant.

After several failed attempts, Robert’s mind gave up on trying to make conversation with itself and committed to humming which, to Robert, was much more favourable.

They’d exited the Dark Forest around mid-morning into what was a very dreary day. The grey clouds hung low in the sky and occasionally spat on people. The forest opened out into a large valley with lush green fields, copses of trees, and the occasional stone structure. Lily had explained that there was a great deal of farmland in the North. Robert could see mountains that disappeared into the low clouds off to the West. Far off in the East, barely visible, he could see a storm brewing. Three high mountains surrounded the valley. Before them, the brick road split into three.

“There are no signposts anywhere,” commented Robert.

“Why does that matter?” asked Lily.

“How do you know where you’re going all the time?”

“I’ve been around for a while. Each path leads to different kingdoms in between each of the mountains. The one to the West runs out to the Northern Peak of the Grimm Mountains and the Seven Dwarves Mining Company. The Eastern road leads to the Kingdom of Hearts. The Northern road, which we’ll be taking, leads through the Rose Kingdom to the Beast’s Kingdom.”

“So many Kingdoms,” said Robert.

“They spend a lot of time at war with one another. There’s currently a peace treaty in place to prevent the fighting, but it’s just a matter of time before one of them oversteps the boundaries.”

“Does that happen often?”

“About once every two weeks. In fact, all three Kingdoms have special departments whose sole job it is to watch the other kingdoms and find out what they’re planning.”

“Can’t they just negotiate something?”

“The Wizards Council of Oz tried and failed miserably. Even the Agency stepped in and tried.”

“And what happened?”

“The result was a war that raged for almost a year.”

“I see.”

The group continued down the Northern path toward a far-off gap in between two of the three mountains. Ahead of them, the path entered a large copse of trees. Robert thought he saw something moving through the trees but the humming in his head was making it difficult to concentrate on more than one thing at once.

“The problem,” said Lily, “is that they’re very difficult rulers in the first place. Queen Aurora is extremely nice on the surface, but a cunning and extremely smart strategist. The Queen of Hearts is slightly crazy, and the Beast, well, he’s a Beast.”

“A literal Beast?”

“Yes, fur, sharp teeth, very angry.”

“Like Beauty and the Beast?”

“Poor girl,” said Gnick.

“Let me guess,” said Robert, “she’s dead?”

“As a doornail,” agreed General Gnarly. “The Princess Belle was given as a gift by the Queen Aurora’s great-great-great-grandfather to the Beast in order to keep him at bay and away from their kingdom. The Beast was insulted and tore her to pieces.”

“Why on Earth did he do that?”

“Because she was ugly.”

“Not just ugly,” said Gnick, “I heard that her looks were comparable to a troll.”

“Still seems like a bit of an overreaction,” said Robert.

The copse of trees loomed up ahead of them, throwing dark silhouettes against the grim sky. The path ran for about a mile through the trees before emerging at the other end. Dry leaves blew across the cracked and faded yellow brick road and swirled through the trees.

“Why’s it feel so intensely creepy in here?” asked Robert. There really wasn’t any reason for it. The trees were alive and rustling to the melodic tunes of the breeze, the green hills and pastures could be seen in breaks through the trees. It was nothing like the Dark Forest, but it still felt chilling.