A Vision of Green (Florence Vaine #2) (17 page)

Its black eyes sear into my soul, communicating something my brain recognises. A strange voice in my head whispers,
Come to me, help me, free me from this prison
. Like a person possessed I slowly stand up, walk over to the counter, pay for my food and leave. I wander in the direction of the trees, where I can see the ghost horse as it threads back and forth, never leaving the edge of the forest. Staying within its boundaries as though trapped there by an invisible wall.

The animal is so beautiful; majestic, powerful, ethereal. It sees me coming and starts to gallop through the trees before returning to make sure I'm still on my way. Like an excited puppy. I don't know why I'm allowing myself to be drawn to it, but all I can think of is how pretty the horse is and how nothing this pretty could possibly intend to do me harm.

When I'm at the forest I step in beside a towering tree and the horse trots toward me. It lets out a resonant nay that vibrates through my chest. Then it tilts its long head to the side, its mesmerising black eyes sinking deep into me, making me feel awash with an empty, hypnotising calm. It beckons me forward, without making a single sound, using only the power of its eyes that hold an eternity within their depths.

The horse lowers itself to the ground, allowing me to get up close and climb onto its sturdy back. I do all of this without thinking. How nice it is not to have to think for a change. Once I'm settled astride it, it rises up again and begins its journey into the woods at a soft canter. I let my hands drift over its soft white coat, then sink my fingers into its luscious pale mane at the nape of its neck. I hold on tight, as it speeds its trot so that we are now galloping through the forest at a startling pace. Well, if I weren't so zoned out I'd probably be startled. As it stands I feel like a knight in armour, surging towards my destiny on my very own loyal steed.

Before I know it we've reached the swamp and the horse doesn't hesitate for even a second as it rears up and dives straight into the murky water. In that split second between diving through the air and galloping on the hard earth of the forest floor, my brain suddenly comes back to life with a shocking start.

My eyes go wide and I open my mouth to let out an almighty scream. My scream lives for a only a moment before it's drowned out by the water and I sink under, hands still holding tightly onto my ghost horse. My ghost horse that is so beautiful and pretty and has inexplicably tricked me into drowning.

I let go and struggle to swim to the surface, but then the horse is no more and there are slick tendrils tightening around my body, pulling me down. I continue to fight them, but it's useless, and soon enough my weak little body gives in and slackens. Falling deeper and deeper. Ever deeper. For the second time in less than a week, I can see death coming for me. Slipping its cool fingers around my throat and pulling away my life without ceremony. No weeping violins or soulful pianos, just quick and hard and brutal.

The faces of people I know flash through my head, memories, unimportant things really, because they won't help me survive this. I'm closer now, closer to losing the battle, and it's almost nice, almost relieving. There are no more hard decisions for me, or trying to be someone, trying to find my way in the world. I can finally, after long years of suffering, just rest. Just close my eyes, go to sleep, and simply never wake up. A line from a prayer I used to say as a child runs through my brain,
if I die before I wake
...

I once read that the moment just before a person dies from drowning their body feels the most intense kind of pleasure. Something like an orgasm, though in my inexperience I don't know very much about those. I think it's got something to do with the asphyxiation, or a chemical reaction in the brain as it's denied oxygen. I can feel that now, euphoria, complete and total pleasure, happiness, peace. I could very much see drowning as a good way to die if you get to feel a sensation this intense in return.

But then my pleasure is cut short, something is pulling me back to the world with all of the intrusion of a hammer to the skull. I don't want to go back. I want to stay here, where there is nothing but pleasure and peace. I fight against it, ironically enough, with the same fervour that only moments ago I had fought to keep from drowning.

Whatever it is pulls me with a kind of strength I have no hope of outdoing. The next thing I know I'm lying flat on my back, coughing up litres of awful tasting liquid, as a recognisable voice scolds in a foreign Nordic sounding language. I sit up to find Green George standing beside the swamp, gesticulating wildly at the horse whose white head is sticking out of the water. But the head doesn't stay a horse, it seems to seethe with anger as it transforms from a handsome man to a beautiful woman to a monster and back to a horse again. Then the horse disappears into its watery hole and the swamp jitters violently before going still.

My throat wheezes as I ask, “What...was...that?”

“
One of my creatures,” Green George answers, coming to kneel down beside me. He puts a hand to my forehead and wipes my straggly wet hair from my cheeks. “A N
ø
kken, to be exact.”

I cough fitfully for a minute, then I finally find my voice and go on, “You'll have to be a little
more
exact.”

“
He is a shapeshifter, he takes the form most appealing to the person he wishes to lure into his waters. For you that happens to be the horse.”

“
Why would he want to do that?”

Green George actually has the audacity to shrug in a nonchalant manner. “Why does any creature do anything? For pleasure perhaps, to escape the boredom of eternity, entertainment, sustenance, survival, take your pick.”

“
That makes no sense,” I mutter, still sitting there, soaked and covered in swamp bits. I try not to focus on what those bits might be.

“
Perhaps not to you,” Green George smiles. “I told him we do not harm our own, and you child, are one of ours. You come from the elves, and therefore I will not suffer you to be killed. By one of my own creatures no less.” He shakes his head and smacks his lips together with a tut.

His mentioning the elves again sidetracks me. “Are there any elves h-h-here?”

Green George closes his eyes. “Not presently. Your folk aren't as sociable as my dear little pony,” he says, gesturing to the swamp where that monstrous N
ø
kken thing lies. Green George studies me for a moment. “I can see that you are interested in finding one. I would not advise it, humans who search for elves throw their lives away for a fruitless mission. The elves are elusive because they wish to be. You will only find one if it wants to be found.”

“
S-so the only way I'll ever meet an elf is if it seeks me out itself?”

“
Yes that is true. You learn quickly, little one.”

There's quiet for a moment, and I try to find my bearings after just barely escaping drowning. My entire body aches and my throat feels like I've chain smoked a hundred cigarettes. Then Green George puts his hand on my shoulder and something happens, the pain begins to subside. I stare up at him in awe, did he just heal me? We're both silent for a long time.

“
The Nephilim have kept their distance since you purveyed my message. Thank you for that.”

“
You're welcome?” I say, but it comes out sounding like a question. I have so much that I want to ask this...creature, but I refrain because I have a feeling I wouldn't get any real answers anyway.

“
So inquisitive,” says Green George, presenting me with his hand and helping me up. “You've been looking into my origins, I can tell. Your questions might as well be printed right there on your forehead, child. Would it please you if I answered some?”

I nod silently.

“
You want to know if I'm a God, so I'll explain to you, Gods are human concepts. I simply exist. I am what I am, but I have no need to define myself because definitions are too...particular for beings such as myself. Saying that, I do have a purpose and that purpose is to govern all forest creatures. Now, you also want to know why I'm here, why my creatures are here. My answer is this, we can only go where we are invited, and the magic that lingers in this place opened it up to us. Suffice it to say, we politely accepted the invitation. The downside is that the invitation only covers us being within the forest, we cannot step outside of it and into the town, and the Nephilim are making it their mission to see to it that we remain confined. For if we were to be let loose, well, who knows what might happen. I can also see that you want to know what else currently resides here, aside from the dear friendly N
ø
kken who just made your acquaintance. To that I say you are welcome to explore and see what you might find,” at this he stops and grins, the expression unsettles me. “My forest is open to you to explore as you see fit as you are, as I have already explained, distantly the child of my creatures, the elves.”

I cough again and mumble, “I think I'll pass.”

A blank expression passes over Green George's face, his grin vanishes. “Does it scare you? The idea of what else might be here, right on your doorstep?”

“
Yes, obviously. Why d-don't you just tell me instead of trying to be so mysterious?” I reply, sulking.

Green George laughs, a deep, oaky sound that resonates through the woods. He rubs his chin, looking ponderous. “What would be the fun in that? Why don't I provide you with a riddle instead, based on one of my creatures, then you can go home and wrack your brains to figure out what it might be.” He claps his hands together. “I love riddles, confusion in humanity is one of the most entertaining things about them.”

“
I read a riddle about you, at l-l-least I think it was about you,” I say.

His eyes flash with interest. “Oh yes, and what did it say?”

“
I can't remember it in full, something like
I am the face – that peers through the leaves
, blah, blah, blah.”

“
That's a common one,” he says. “But let's not get distracted with little old me, will you accept my challenge?” he gives me a wink. If you ever find yourself being winked at by what you suspect is an ancient Roman God, you'll truly understand the meaning of the word surreal.

“
I suppose so...” I trail off, as a far away animalistic roar reverberates through the forest. What was that? Chills skitter down my spine, making me shiver in my wet clothes. My school bag is soaked and stuck to my back. I'm glad I only have one or two books in there. Hopefully I'll be able to put them on the radiator at home and dry them out.

“
Wonderful,” Green George exclaims. “Okay, let me see...ah yes, I have a good one for you.
In body I am king of the jungle, my mind is human through and through, I can kill you instantly with the slightest prick of my tail, what am I?
”

“
Honestly, I haven't the f-foggiest idea, and by the sounds of it I don't want to.”

He laughs low and places his hands on either side of my head. “You should always seek to know what might be a threat to you, child, never forget that.” He pauses and stares off into the distance, looking thoughtful as another roar sounds, getting closer now.

“
Until we meet again,” he says, distracted by whatever it is that's headed our way.

I blink and I'm no longer in the forest, but standing right outside of Gran's house. Green George had the decency to zap me home, but he didn't use his godly powers to dry out my clothes. I trudge my way up to the front door. Inside Dad and Sal are in the living room with the television blaring on
Deal or no Deal
. Dad sometimes puts daytime TV on in the background when he's shooting up. I'm not in the right place to face that particular visual at the moment, so I hurry up the stairs as quietly as possible.

In the bathroom I peel off my clothes and stuff them into a plastic bag that I find in the cabinet. I tie it up tight, because I don't want any of the stink from the swamp water to escape. I spend extra time in the shower, washing away whatever filth is on my body, shuddering at the memory of how the ghost horse, or the N
ø
kken as Green George put it, completely stripped me of my own independent thought. All I could think about was how mesmerising its eyes were; darkly beautiful. I just wanted to touch its coat and ride off into the sunset.