"Fine then. If they want the fire so badly they can have it. They can burn for all I care. A thousand years of culture and science, and it is the creatures of the earth who will inherit this land, not us. We are nothing more than lofty devils now, shaking our fists up at the heavens and cursing them, never realizing it was our will alone that created this personal hell, not theirs. We all belong to the fire now."
-Brimmly Stoker

They didn't sleep a wink that night. The voice kept coming back, imitating all kinds of people to try and lure them away from the fire. Judas heard his father once, then his brother, then his mother, while Esther howled over her missing children.

Peter wouldn't let go of her. Even when the voices changed and called out his name, he wouldn't budge. By the time dawn finally arrived, the voice finally melted away like morning mist, and the soft twitter of bird song returned.

"What were those things," Peter asked, making sure the coast was clear. He stared at Judas curiously. "They...they weren't Forest Folk were they?"

Judas shook his head. "I don't know, really. They existed in The Forest long before my kind started living here. Some believe they're the ghosts of the Old Gods trying to lure us away so they can possess our bodies, but The Forest is a vast thing. The horrors within could be just as countless."

"I think it was you who sent the damned thing to torment us, Hornsent," Esther snarled, glaring at him through red rimmed eyes. She wiped what little tears remained on her fur, and jabbed at him with an accusing finger.

"That's enough," Peter said. "I won't stand for anymore baseless accusations. The last time someone tried, Judas nearly hanged for it."

Judas ran a hand over his throat, the rope burns still tender to the touch, remembering the awful feeling in his guts when he'd been hoisted off the ground.

Esther narrowed her gaze at the Dogman, but didn't say anything more as she turned away, too tired or too miserable to keep fighting.

"Let's strike camp," Peter suggested. "I doubt we'll be stopping again anytime soon. Judas, how much further till we reach the children?"

"A couple days, maybe," Judas said, eyeing the canopy above them. "But it'll be hard to know once we start moving."

"Why do you say that?"

"Once we get to a certain point in The Forest, it'll be difficult telling the time." Judas swallowed as he studied the desired direction, thin shafts of sunlight winking in and out of existence. He cataloged the moment to memory, in case this was the last time he'd ever see the sun again.

"When that happens," he said. "Don't stray too far from the road."

"Why?" Esther demanded.

Judas glared at her. "Because there are far more terrible things in The Forest than what he heard last night. I would hate for you to meet one of them."

"Are you trying to scare me, Hornsent?"

"No, I am trying to prepare you for the worst. I left The Forest for a reason. I'm hoping one day you'll realize that."

Judas stomped off before Esther could burn his beard hair off with one of her scowls. He hadn't meant to snap at the Prickleback like that, really he hadn't, but he was getting so tired having to defend himself again and again and again.

Even Peter, despite coming to his defense time and time ago, was not immune to the distrust Esther was trying to weave. He'd caught the Dogman watching him a time or two when he thought no one else was looking, as if his predacious mind couldn't quite put all the pieces together, that somewhere in his head was an idea or concept about Judas he just couldn't wrap his head around.

Something like that was worse than betrayal, because it means they never believed in you from the start. Instead they study you for any perceived flaw, waiting for the opportunity to pounce.

To Judas' surprise, at least, the other members of his merry little band kept following him. Whether through false trust or begrudgeoned reasoning, the flock was sticking together. For now, at least.

Off in the distance a bird chirped, a lesser cousin of the Boggards croaked and burbled on a nearby lilypad, and the wind sang its forever song, filing The Forest with noise once again.

Walking through The Forest can be a strange experience if it's your first time. If you enter through the southern fringes you'll find only sunshine, a few sparse trees, and soft blankets of sweet smelling grass, but if you go deeper the landscape swiftly begins to change.

The trees grow larger, taller, and crueler. Soft grass becomes snarling bramble, and the light slowly fades away to nothingness. You start to wonder if you've traveled too far, too long, but then you realize you've only been in The Forest for a couple of hours, and by the time you turn back, it's too late. The Forest has you, and it will never let you go.

Peter lit one of the torches, the hardened sap from the Homestead Tree filling the air with greasy smoke and a dull, amber light. The Old God's guide poles stretched out over yonder, but they were growing sparse now, more spread apart, and the cursed earth tying them together began to slip away into the canopy, becoming harder and harder to locate.

The road was slowly being eaten away by The Forest, large patches of cursed, black earth devoured by creeper and ivy, potholes and pits forming along the center. Many times Judas had been forced to step around, step over, or on some occasions risk walking along the outer boundaries near the tree line.

The air grew colder as they ventured on, creating a chill that nipped at their noses, strangled their throats, filling their senses with the cloying smell of rot and decay. Out there in the darker places, the cycle of life and death had lain in perpetual motion, undisturbed for centuries. It had only grown more efficient in the absence of the Old Gods.

Insects skittered and crawled fearlessly along the tree branches, silk webs glistening from passing torch light. Here and there the rustle of a leaf or the snap of a twig set Judas on edge, but nothing ever jumped out at him, save for the whistling wind, and the gnawing whisper of words too quiet to understand.

They stopped for rest at Peter's behest, under an old oak tree protruding out of the middle of the road. Its roots had dug deep into the soil, ripping through the cursed earth and revealing its strange, weblike patterns beneath.

Judas tried not to stare at them, lest he discern their true meaning. "We're getting close now. We should be no more than an hour's walk from here. If we keep up a good pace, at least." He readjusted his pack, feeling the heavy lump dig into his shoulder blades.

Esther didn't say anything this time. She'd been quiet since they'd left camp, staring gloomily at the trees, as if the voice was still out there calling to her, and only she could hear it this time.

Judas would have counted his blessings for the peace she'd given him, but under the circumstances they were all in, he couldn't find the will to enjoy it. She was still a mother, after all. A spiteful, mean mother, but who wasn't these days. For the Scripture told him so.

"What are they going to do to my children?" Esther asked.

Peter winced. "I'm sure they haven't done anything."

The Prickleback shook her head. "I'm not talking to you, Dogman." She stared up at Judas, as if he knew all the answers. "What are they going to do to them? What do they even want from them? You don't kidnap other people's children without good reason."

Judas shrugged. "I don't know. I couldn't tell you."

"Bull shit," Esther snapped at him, but there wasn't any bite to it anymore. As if all the anger had been drained out of her like a punctured wineskin, leaving her hunched and deflated.

"You have to know, " she muttered. "You're one of them, after all. You must know."

"He doesn't know," Peter insisted, once again rising up to the defense. The ever faithful shepherd. "Really, Esther. You need to let this go. Judas was never a part of this. That's why he wants to help us. That's why he's leading us to them in the first place."

"It's so convenient isn't it?" Esther asked, voice all quiet now. "That he knows exactly where to go and yet he doesn't even know what the next step is."

Judas wanted to argue with her, but even he knew better. Why deny the obvious. It did sound too convenient, from any perspective. Sad part was, he wasn't shrewd enough for such cunning. He was too soft, too weak. A sheep in wolf's clothing.

He'd left The Forest for a reason.

"You're speaking nonsense again," Peter said. "For once in your life will you please have faith that Judas is trying to do the right thing?"

"I had faith once," Esther said. "I had faith that the Mother would protect me from people like you." She jabbed a finger at Peter. "And from people like him, but I see now what faith is worth in this forsaken world."

She kicked a nearby stone, sending it toppling down onto the cursed, black road. " It ain't worth a damn. So no, I won't have faith in someone like the Hornsent. The only thing I want to believe in now is what I can see in front of me." She gripped her hands into tiny, shaking fists. "Like my children's corpses, if nothing else."

The torch had burned low a while ago, and as the last few embers of light guttered out, Judas found himself surrounded again by the haunting gloom of The Forest. As a child he'd feared the darkness, thought of it as a living thing that wanted to gobble him up like the other monsters. Now that he was older, he found it almost comforting in a way. A blanket he could hide in if need be.

Without sight his other senses grew naturally stronger. He heard his heart thumping madly in his chest, smelled the fear of his lesser cousins as they scurried around him, and felt the deep, rugged ridges of the old oak tree in the palm of his hand.

But there was something else too. Even with his eyes closed, a tiny pinprick of light burned into the backs of his eyes. It flickered in and out of sight, sporadically at first, then into a strange sort of pattern. The earth buzzed beneath him, dancing up the old oak and into his outstretched palm. Not a quake, but something else. Something not entirely of The Forest.

"You see that?" Judas opened his eyes.

"I smell it," Peter said. "Smoke. Sweat. Someone's making a campfire."

"Do you think it's them?" Esther asked.

"Don't know." Peter looked over to Judas. "What do you think?"

"They could be stragglers that broke away from the main party. I doubt they'll know anything if we questioned them. They're more than likely to attack us if we tried."

"I'm not afraid of cowardly kidnappers," Esther said.

"Trust me. It's not worth our time."

"Trust? Pah!" Esther slipped off the gnarled root she'd used as a stool and shuffled down the road. "As I told you dunces already, there isn't an ounce of trust or faith left within me to fill a turd. If they don't tell me where my children are I'll...I'll..." She paused for a moment to think about it. "I'll kill the lot of them!"

Judas stared in dismay as Esther disappeared into the foliage.There would be no guessing what lay ahead of them, and that terrified him the most. Some of the Forest Folk were a reasonable bunch, at least a few of the Hornsent he'd known back then, but most were beyond reproach.

They lived in The Forest for a reason, didn't they?

"Come on," Peter said as he descended from the old oak, lips curled back with disgust as he touched the cold, cursed road. "Best we go after her before she gets into any more trouble."

"Why did you agree to have her come along with us?" Judas asked, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone this time. "She's been nothing but trouble from the very start."

"Felt right at the time," Peter admitted. "Same way it did the last time, when I stopped all those Woodlins from hanging you." He started walking, only to pause mid step. "I hope I don't come to regret it. I'm already kicking myself for last time."