Into Ahsah

Welcome to part two of How Mari Gets Transported to the Mystical Realm of Ahsah! This excerpt is rather long, so we're wasting no time in getting started...

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The end of the week came all too slowly, but finally, her chance to return to the tree had arrived.

Lili crashed early after their buffet of Mr. Lance’s famous Korean spaghetti and meatballs. Mari knew she would—she was a sucker for those rice noodles.

She waited until it was dark and Miss Lili’s snoring was as loud as a train. Then Mari set down the magazine she was reading (not really. She’d been on the same page about parsnip cultivation—Miss Lili loved gardening—for the past 20 minutes. The magazine was just part of her expert disguise) and crept toward the door. The floor squeaked underneath her, making her cringe with every step.

By the time she got to the door, she was a bundle of nerves. The harsh creak as the door opened did not help. Mari looked back with a start, but Lili merely shuffled under her blanket.

Thank goodness Lili ate that extra bowl. She was dead to the world.

Mari inched the door shut and once she heard the click, she bounded across the yard. The woods were not far off and Mari sprinted towards them, her pulse pounding in her ears, anxious and eager all at the same time.

Once she made it to the trees, she allowed herself to slow. If Miss Lili did wake up, she wouldn’t be able to spot her through the foliage. Plus, Mari could totally see herself falling if she tried to run through the trees in the dark.

But what she lacked in coordination, she made up for in observance. As Mari walked through the trees, each rustle stopped her in her tracks. She’d squint at the hazy shapes, feeling like she was being watched, scanning for grizzly bears or wolves or attackers, until she was able to convince herself that she was okay.

It was slow going and her nerves were shot by the time she approached the crest of the hill. Legs burning, Mari searched for it, the memory of it propelling her forward.

The tree looked normal.

It was a bit of a letdown, in all honesty. The last time Mari had stood before the mighty oak, it had seemed to be alive with energy, bursting with an unearthly glow. She expected it to be a literal lighthouse, a sturdy pillar alighting her way.

It just looked like a regular old tree.

Mari made her way into the clearing, feeling utterly normal.

Adrenaline rushed out of her and she plopped on the ground. It had rained the day before and mud squelched beneath her. Mari could feel its dampness seeping through her jeans. It squished out between her fingers. She hated nature. Should’ve stayed inside. Should’ve never gone out here. What a stupid idea. She was stupid. How could she have thought this was peaceful? That somehow a stupid tree would solve all her problems? Maybe her parents were right; something was wrong with her.

Dark thoughts dragged her down, an anchor atop her shoulders. The burden was too much and soon, tears fell. Mari was a snotty mess, heaving sobs that drowned out the sounds of the night. It was like everything had stopped—the stray bird calls, the critters shuffling along the forest floor, even the leaves rustling in the trees.

Silent, except for her.

Mari didn’t know how long she stayed like that, cross-legged on the muddy ground, hunched forward with hands pressed against the sides of her head in an effort to drown out the voices. Her mom, dad, Willow, even the principal—everyone telling her she wasn’t good enough. Her own voice was the loudest of all. It taunted her on a never-ending loop, making her want to tear her hair out. It’d never stop.

But if you’ve ever had a really long, really heavy cry, then you know that it gets tiring fast; Mari couldn’t keep up. Her sobs eventually quieted, soundless tears cascading down her splotchy cheeks. Her hands fell to her sides, leaving globs of mud in her hair.

Already dirty and worthless, Mari laid on her side, numb as the muck pressed against her body. It was somewhat funny, Mari thought, in an ironic (and incredibly sad) way, that her tears were plopping onto the mud. Adding to the mess she told herself, because that’s all I’m good for. 

Undenounced to her, things were stirring.

Remember how Mari felt like she was being watched? Well, she kind of was.

Hidden amid the branches, a swallow swooped down and landed near Mari’s outstretched hand. It hopped forward in that way little birds do, catching her eye. She’d seen birds like it before in Lili’s garden, an ordinary little thing with brown feathers and a bluish head.

Soaking in her own misery, Mari disgruntledly shooed it away. She liked lying there, in the dirt, where she belonged.

The bird perched on the oak’s low-hanging branch. Until then, the unnatural silence had remained throughout the grove; he peppered the air with a chittering call. Another responded—they had all been waiting for their brave representative to make the first move—and the sounds of nature resumed.

Beneath his tiny bird feet, the branch seemed to lighten, as if day was suddenly breaking in the middle of the night. The light spread from beneath his knobby feet, coating the oak in a warm glow. The space around it hummed, the animals chittering wildly with glee and the wind rushing through the iridescent-turning leaves.

Mari still didn’t notice. She was making a melody out of the ringing in her ears and running her finger through the mud.

Mindlessly, she traced a swirl through the damp earth.

Then things got weird… or, weirder.

Without warning, a current swept through the clearing, picking up leaves and debris and anything else it could (a few mice went airborne). Like the oak tree, the wind brought a warmth with it, increasing the temperature and tinting everything it touched with a blushy hue. The forest came alive, like a great celebration was upon them.

With a mind of its own, the wind spiraled tighter, moving from the edges of the clearing towards the girl laying askew in its center.

The girl who was just now stirring, curious enough to rise up out of her pity party.

With a deep, snotty inhale, Mari sat up, wiped her nose on her arm (I know, gross. But desperate times call for desperate measures and it’s not like you haven’t done the same thing yourself. However, Mari forgot that her arm was mud-covered, so all she ended up doing was smearing snot and mud all over herself), and looked around in a daze.

A branch with rainbow-shimmering leaves raced past her face and Mari had to jerk to avoid getting whacked. Whatever stupor she was in was quickly being replaced with panic as the woods swirled around her in a funnel of sweet-smelling wind.

Mari jumped to her feet, adrenalized once again, and tried to dash out of the cone that was swiftly closing in around her, to no avail. The current was spiraling so fast that she risked getting hit with debris as soon as she approached the edge. No way was she going to jump out without getting battered or thrown.

But that logic was lost on Mari, the panic screeching over all else. Desperate now, she made a running jump into the funnel. Like an extraterrestrial boomerang, it shot her back inside and she crashed into the mud.

There was a sickening snap and Mari’s mind froze… 1… 2… before fire exploded in her arm. With a gasp, Mari tried to shift her weight off of it. Fire clashed horribly with the ice in her head.

The current was closing in now. Mari couldn’t breathe. From the pain or the funnel, she couldn’t know. The air still smelled sweet, like apple blossoms. Her head pounded alongside the howling of the wind. Fighting off her hazy vision, she saw a blue-brown blur caught up in the wind cone.

Then it was at her feet. Landing, not falling, resolutely on its tiny taloned ones.

The swallow chittered and hopped around like it was doing a dance. It looked like it was trying to do the floss, which with wings, made things a bit more complicated. The sight of a Tik-Tok dancing bird was enough to pull Mari out of her brain fog and she realized that it was the same bird that was messing with her earlier. Pain forgotten, Mari blinked. She must’ve hit her head.

Just after the swallow transitioned to the Carlton dance—whipping his wings back and forth in exuberant synchronicity—the bird’s eyes seemed to notice Mari’s high-tops. Apparently, their extra height made for a great stage because the dance-obsessed swallow hopped onto one with an exaggerated Carlton-esque wing swish. He started flossing again; guess he liked to mix up the dance eras.

Then he froze, mid-floss, mind you. The bird’s head perked up, like he was sensing something.

The swallow looked at Mari. She thought it was kind of creepy locking eyes with a bird, but at this point, she figured she was hallucinating—she wouldn’t be surprised if it started talking (don’t worry, the bird didn’t talk… not in any language we’d understand, anyway)—and a single chirp sprang from his mouth, sharp and potent, even against the whirling winds.

Then he took off, right through the mini-tornado. Which Mari now realized was tugging at her foot. Frantic, she tried to scurry away but there was nowhere to go. Pain raced through her arm as she tried to wrestle her foot away from the current, which seemed to be alive. The wind was picking at her shoe laces, twirling them around and untying and retying them in perfect bows, like it was playing with her. Like it was a game.

The more she fought, the more the wind swirled, whooshing through her hair and filling her nostrils with its heady apple scent.

But with each breath she took, Mari got warmer, calmer, until it was just a game for her too. The struggle eased out of her, her muscles slackening like melted honey. Sweet, like the air. Her mind felt fuzzy and Mari had the strange thought that the inside of her head was like Miss Lili’s floofy pillows. She felt like sleeping now.

Dreamily, Mari laid back down and sighed as she allowed her eyes to close. Her arm was bent weirdly, but she couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel anything except the warm honey peace inside her and apple-blossom wind above her. She felt at peace, like that day with the tree.

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing Mari felt was a sharp tug on her foot as it was lifted off the forest floor. Then floating, hot air dancing around her as it lifted her up, and up, and…

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Until next time, my faithful fantasy readers!