Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 327

Chapter 327: Carvings
Ford kept his opinions to himself as Mia went back to her bedroll for a night of restless sleep. By the firelight, he continued whittling, Seth unhappily next to him.

Grandpa and Daniel rejoined the group with the gathered wood, and Daniel looked curiously around before moving to his bedroll and laying down. Anaisa had a few whispered words for Seth before she retired next to her niece.

Through all this, Ford remained silent.

If Grandpa had questions about how the talk had gone, he didn’t voice them. Sometimes Ford wondered if the old man had amazing hearing or extremely selective curiosity.

Ford hadn’t realized that going invisible messed with Mia’s abilities at all. He considered using his power now, except that Seth wouldn’t like it. It also would prevent him from being able to whittle without accidentally cutting himself.

The three men worked in quiet for some time as the sounds of the forest around them transitioned into the nighttime choruses of nature.

There were crickets tonight, and soon they were singing in a slightly discordant harmony as Grandpa hummed along. Idly, Ford wondered how much talent it took to do that. Was it like playing a dozen instruments at once, or simpler?

He shrugged off the question and added another creation to the pile.

“So we’re just going to leave these behind in the morning?” Seth asked.

“Unless you want to toss them into the forest tonight,” Grandpa suggested. “Whatever you think will make ’em happy.”

“And why exactly should these crude carvings make them happy?” Mia’s father challenged.

He continued whittling, despite his obvious skepticism about the plan, Ford noticed.

“Maybe they have weird taste in art,” Grandpa held up a rough carving of a bird.

“But you think we’re trapped in this forest and this will have them let us out,” Seth scratched his head.

“That’s about the size of it. We haven’t been short on food. Plenty of nuts and berries around, the occasional stream to give us clean water. But the landscape hasn’t changed much and we haven’t left the trees. The more I ponder it, the more certain I become.”

“I think they’re wood wights,” Ford joined the conversation. “I think the wood carvings might… make them happy?”

“Because they’re made of wood?” Seth blinked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Ford shook his hand out to relieve the soreness in his wrist. “Maybe ‘in charge of wood’ might be a better characterization? I’m not sure. Maybe they just really like wood. Regardless, the carvings disappear. They seem to be collecting them. If we add to their collection…”

“Then maybe they’ll keep us longer as their little carving pets.” Seth frowned.

“I hope not,” Ford shrugged, “but if they do, would it be different than now?”

Seth had no answer to that, or at least he didn’t voice one.

Exhausted, Ford finished his carving and moved to his bedroll.

“Wake me for my watch,” he requested. No one answered, which he took for assent. The cricket song changed a little, almost a lullaby.

He laid down heavily, facing away from the others. Mia’s whimpers nearby made him ache a little, and he hoped they were bothering Seth a lot more. Ford tried to even out his breathing to help himself fall asleep, and closed his eyes.

“You should go easier on that young man,” Grandpa’s quiet voice was barely audible over the crackle of the fire. Ford could have easily been convinced he imagined it.

“Boy. That’s a boy, not a man,” Seth’s response was full of bitterness.

“All the more reason to go easier on him… though he’s far less a boy now than when he came to us.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I think I’ll take a rest, too, while I can. I’m sure you have a lot to think over without me in the way.”

The cricket song changed again, becoming slowly disarrayed and disorganized. Ford concluded that Grandpa must have fallen asleep, giving up his magical hold on the creatures.

Sleep continued to elude Ford. He considered getting up and rejoining Seth for more whittling, but he didn’t particularly want to have a one-on-one conversation with the man again. That would likely upset him more.

As it was, the current state of balance was a precarious one.

Seth had absolutely forbidden any nocturnal activities of any kind, either via invisibility or physical touch. He had reluctantly conceded that having Ford ride next to Mia while holding her hand–fully supervised by everyone riding behind them–was an acceptable experiment to help Mia cope with the draining of her magic.

The way the man had glared at Ford sent a clear message that nothing beyond hand holding would be tolerated… as if Ford would dare.

Eventually he fell into a light and tentative rest, only to be woken for his watch all too soon.

It was Grandpa who woke him, so it must have been the third watch of the night, closest to dawn. Ford yawned and stretched as the old man crawled into his bedroll.

“I finished a few more,” Grandpa pointed to the pile of rough carvings.

Ford nodded, too tired to reply right away. He took the statement as encouragement to do a few more on his watch.

His poor, blistered fingers. He wouldn’t waste the healing water on such a trivial thing. Grandpa assured him it would all turn to callous in the most sensitive places and not be a problem anymore.

That wasn’t particularly comforting.

Sitting in his place, Ford picked up a chunk of wood and began the long, sweeping strokes that would remove most of the unnecessary mass. His grip on the knife tightened as Mia cried out a little in her sleep.

The temptation to violate Seth’s commands was strong–the man didn’t hold any real authority over Ford–but Ford turned away, looking up into the trees.

He missed the stars. Strange how he’d grown used to them so quickly in the grasslands. The canopy of leaves hid the sky, making him wonder idly if the sky had ever been there at all.

Yawning and stretching again, Ford sighed as Grandpa began snoring. He looked up again, vaguely hoping something had changed… and saw dozens of pairs of eyes staring down at him.