Under the watchful eye of the Mother Shrine, twelve-year-old Wisp ekes out a simple, but challenging life with Dad, foraging for food and losing herself in old books from the world that came before. She loves the Endless Forest―except when the Tree Walkers come for her.
In ages past, the great rain of fire and ash destroyed the Earth, wiping out the ancients and everything they had made. Nature has reclaimed much since then, spreading out in a vast forest full of wonder and dread. Ever in fear of being taken away, she follows Dad’s rules without question while learning to survive off the land.
No longer a small child, she accompanies Dad on one of his treks, her first time more than a few steps away from the cabin. A day exploring with him is the happiest time of her life, but joy is short-lived.
A monster follows them home.
Safe in her Haven, she hides while Dad goes outside to confront the beast. She wakes alone the next morning, and waits. Alas, her hope of his return fades with the daylight. Desperate, she breaks his strictest rule and goes outside alone. Not far from the cabin, she discovers his rifle abandoned next to the monster’s strange footprints.
Afraid but determined, Wisp sets off on her own into the Endless Forest to find Dad―before the Tree Walkers catch her.
Excerpt:
“Where are we going?” asked Wisp.
“There used to be a small settlement a ways north of us. Scavengers have probably been and gone already, but I’m hoping they didn’t take everything. There’s gotta be something of use left there.”
“What’s a settlement?”
He let go of the rifle long enough to pat her on the head. “It’s a place where people used to build houses all close together. Must’ve been a defense tactic. I guess even the ancients had tribes. People banded together for protection. Much easier to defend themselves when they put their cabins all together.”
“Oh, like a city?” Wisp peered up at him. “There’s cities in some of the books. I think ‘towns’ are like the same thing, but smaller. I wonder what it’s like to have so many people around. I think it’s kinda scary.”
“People change, sweetie. Before the dragons came, they weren’t quite as mean to each other as they are now. Back then, you didn’t have to worry so much that any person you ran into would try to hurt you and take all your stuff… or take you.”
“Take me?” She blinked. “Like the Tree Walkers?”
“Not exactly. You remember me telling you about marauders?”
She nodded. “Bad people, but not monsters like the Tree Walkers.”
“Right. They roam in packs, and sometimes they steal people, too.”
“What for?”
“They force them to work. Sometimes they make them fight each other as a sport. A few of their groups even use people for meat.”
She gagged. “Yuck! Well, no one’s going to take me for meat.”
“Nope. You’re way too skinny. They’d throw you back and keep fishing.”
Wisp poked him in the side and raspberried him. “Am not! I don’t taste good.”
“Did you taste yourself?” He glanced back at her.
“No. I just don’t want to taste good. I’ll smear red berry all over me so I look like the firepillars. Red means don’t eat.”
“Right. Maybe that’ll work.” He winked at her.
The ground pitched into a hill, at one point growing so steep she had to grab handfuls of dirt to make the climb. Vines with thousands of tiny prickling thorns scraped at her legs. Dad waited at the top, staring at something in the distance. She pulled herself up enough to see over the ridge, her nose even with ground level, and gaped in awe at a huge metal object covered in runner vines and plants. It had the overall shape of a tube, much bigger than the cabin, and many times longer. Squarish panels resembling windows ran down the length over an angled flat section on the side that had gouged into the ground. The huge beast had a tall, vertical fin opposite a pointy end with more windows. All sorts of junk littered the ground in the area.
“What is that?” she whispered.
“A thunderbird,” said Dad. “A machine from long ago.”
“Like your bullet maker?” She pulled herself past the ridge and stood.
Dad crept toward the wreck. “Only in that they are both machines. This one is far more complicated. I don’t even begin to understand how it worked.”
“Complicated. It’s difficult?” She tiptoed after him.
“I mean it’s got a lot of parts. It’s beyond me to understand how something like this could work. I think they used to fly.”
“Wow… but it looks so heavy.” She pointed at the angled part on the side. “Is that a wing? How did it flap?”
He shrugged. “Magic that has been lost to us. All I know is they used to carry people over great distances, high in the clouds where the Tree Walkers couldn’t reach them.”
Wisp stepped around a tangled mess of metal and placed one foot on the wing above where it dug into the earth. The dull-grey metal warmed the bottom of her foot, but not painfully so. She leaned her weight forward, arms waving to the sides, and walked up to the long, tubular body.
“Be careful,” said Dad.
She squatted beside the curved wall and put her face over the window, shielding her eyes with both hands. Two small fog spots from her nostrils appeared on the plastic. Inside, a few of the seats held desiccated remains, mostly skeletons wearing tattered bits of clothing in styles she’d never imagined. The skeleton nearest her had a dark shirt over his ribs with the word Nike on it.
“It’s a shrine! They’ve all gone to the Other Place,” called Wisp, before lowering her voice. “I’m sorry for disturbing you. I’ll go away now.”
She crawled on all fours down the wing and leapt to the ground. “What’s nikkey?”
“What?” asked Dad.
“A man by the hole had it on his shirt. N-i-k-e. Nikkey.”
“No idea. Could be his name. Some of the marauders do that… write their names on their chest armor.”
She grinned, peering down at her chest where the faded image of a cartoonish bunny rabbit skull stared off into space. “Like my shirt, but it’s not words.”
“I think that was meant to be cute.”
Wisp took a few steps to the side before plunking herself down on a square cushion that resembled the bottom part of a chair. Fortunately, it turned out to be soft. “What’s cute?”
He glanced over at her and cracked up. “You.”
Her eyebrows shifted together. “What?”
Dad stepped toward her. “Well, it means something or someone that, when you look at them, you feel happy enough to want to…” He scooped her up into a hug. “Squeeze them.”
Wisp squealed with laughter.
Like what you see? Find it on Amazon
