The Wraiths Forest

The Wraith’s Forest

Judy L. Leger

Chippewa Publishing • Wisconsin

Sale of this book in printed/hard copy on paper is unauthorized unless the copyright of Chippewa Publishing. This book is released in eBook format only by Chippewa Publishing. Sales of this eBook on a site other than the Chippewa Publishing bookstore is prohibited. If you have not paid for this book in eBook format, please visit our site at http://www.chippewapublishing.com to purchase a copy. Thank you. All characters in this book are a work of fiction. The characters and names of characters nor their activities do not represent any human on this Earth. Author: Judy L. Leger Editor: Joletta Hill Cover Art: Beckie Pack Copyright 2004 Judy L. Leger All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Chippewa Publishing, Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin.

Dedication I would like to thank all the ladies at Romance Unlimited and also a good friend and fellow author, Pamela Thibodeaux.   

The Wraith’s Forest The late afternoon light glinted off the golden skinned fruit resting in the dirt and stones beneath the Tree of Providence. Keely gasped and rushed forward, lifting the fruit with great care. At first, she found nothing wrong, but when she searched closer, she noticed a dark bruise forming on the side that struck the ground. With a mental groan, she tucked the fruit into her pocket. Why did this have to happen to her? Master Nole, the valley’s wizard, needed all the harvest to brew the elixir that helped keep balance in the valley. Keely hoped the damage was minor. The villagers would claim her age caused this. Many complained that seventeen was much too young for such a responsibility, even though some of the women started their stints at a younger age. Anxious, she plucked the last of the harvest. Fastening the cover closed, she pulled the padded, double-strapped basket onto her back, and hurried down the raised trail cutting through the forest to the valley. Thoughts of how she should break the news to Master Nole mulled in her mind. The ancient trees loomed on each side of her. The locals named the woods the Wraith’s Forest. With the

Tree of Providence in a small clearing deep within the forest, the path remained protected because of the Wraith. Familiar with the ominous dark forest, Keely usually paid little attention to her surroundings. Instead, she remembered the dark, golden bruise. Worried over the consequences to her and the valley, she wanted to reach Master Nole. Perhaps he could repair the damage. She hoped so. A cold wind tugged the long strands of her black hair, swishing them forward. She shoved them in frustration. In a blink of an eye, she stilled, frozen in place with her hand raised, one foot lifted. She listened, but heard nothing. No bird song, no insects, even the constant whistling wind no longer sounded. Shivers of foreboding swept down her back. She glanced toward the forest. In the gloom between the massive trunks, she saw a figure. Tattered black robes fluttered in the breeze. Keely swallowed hard. The Wraith. He stood parallel to her. Watching her. Where his hooded face should have been, only deep impenetrable darkness existed. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her frantic heart. He stood within the boundary of the trees. There he would stay. She recalled the story. He was bound to the forest for eternity. As long as she remained on the path, she would stay safe.

Her legs trembled when she took a step. The Wraith moved with her. Another and another, he stayed at her side. Vexed, Keely shook her fist and shouted, “Leave me be.” The wind swept her words away. She broke into a sprint, trying to get past the point where the path opened into the valley. Once there, the Wraith would be gone. She shot quick, furtive glances to her left. His dark form glided even with her. In an instant, she tripped. The sloped side of the path rose to meet her. She tried to stop, but she hit the ground hard and slid until her head ended in the forest. The breath whooshed out of her lungs. She laid there for a moment, her eyes closed against the pain slicing through her palms and right side. When she lifted her gaze, she cried out. There in the shadows of the trees, the Wraith stood but a foot away from her. “I’ve done nothing to you. Leave me be,” she cried. The Wraith leaned to her, his gloved hand reached and lifted a lock of her hair. She shrank back, but stopped when his grip tightened on the ends. A flash whisked by and she fell away from him. Her eyes widened when she saw he held strands of her hair in his left hand. A silvered blade, shining with an internal glow, winked once before it disappeared within the

folds of his robes. Just as quickly, he too disappeared. Keely, trembling, searched the shadows in tree line for any sign of him. She lowered her chin to her chest and sighed. A few moments later, she pulled her aching body up to hurry down the trail, wanting to put distance between her and the forest. Gnarled oaks grew in staggered lines on the mountain slopes surrounding the valley. Their branches stretched toward the green pastures and fields. The valley spread out for miles, encompassed by the mountains. A narrow gouge between two peaks gave the people a way in and out of the valley, though very few traveled that way. Jogging, she saw the peaceful village perched on the far side of the valley. Night would fall by the time she reached home. How had her mother managed without her help today? Her gaze turned to the one tower at the head of the valley. Three stories high, the white stone reflected the sunlight. Keely smiled. Once she reached the tower, she raced up the front steps. “Master Nole,” she called from the doorway. “I’ve brought the last of it.” “Up here, lass. Bring them all, quickly, quickly. The pot’s brewing.” The deep voice echoed down the spiraling stairs leading to the top. Keely struggled to climb to the third floor. Wanting only to deliver this load and show the wizard

the bruised fruit, she ignored her body’s aches from the fall. She moved past the second floor, and continued until she reached the third. In the center of the room, Master Nole pinched some herbs into an iron cauldron. Keely crossed to the table beside him and shrugged the basket straps from her shoulders. “Good evening,” she panted. “Let us see.” Nole lifted the lid and examined the golden balls. “Good, good, none hurt.” “One is.” She dug into her pocket and pulled the bruised fruit out. “It lay on the ground when I arrived to pick the rest. Look, there is a bruise.” Nole took and studied it for several minutes. He grunted then strode to the far side of the room where cabinets lined the curved wall near a narrow window. Pulling a key suspended on a chain from the front of his tunic, he unlocked one door, and rummaged through the shelves. Keely leaned to one side, watching him. She’d never seen the contents of the cabinets. Nole kept them locked at all times. He told her once that great magical items were kept there. If someone unfamiliar were to bother them, then great harm could come. “Master, the fruit is not all that was hurt,” she started. Nole shot a glance over his shoulder and pinned her in place. “I saw the Wraith. He cut my hair.” Nole opened his mouth once then again before

words formed. “He cut your hair?” “Yes, sir. With a shiny blade.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Nole’s brows lowered over his pale eyes. A measure of concern bubbled in her. She lifted the lopped off strands. “See.” Nole stared at the blunted ends. When he shifted his gaze to her face, sparks of unease shot through her middle. “Why would he do this?” A frown formed on his face. “Unless he sensed how you felt.” Keely tried to deny Nole’s words, but he held up a hand stopping her. “You did not want to tend the tree,” he said. He knew. She tried to shake her head, but found she couldn’t deny what he said. How could she? She opened her mouth and the words spilled out. “I wanted to help my mother. She needed me.” “Oh, Keely,” he groaned and pivoted to the window. A rough cord hung on the side of the opening. He pulled and the deep tones of a bell rang out above them. “The villagers must be told. They will decide how this matter will go.” Unease changed instantly to fear. “Please, not that. They will punish me and it wasn’t my fault.” “The fruit is precious and all who tend it must do so with love and utmost care. You did not. Now, we are one fruit short. The loss of even one can throw the

entire valley into decline,” Nole said. He returned to the cabinet and resumed his search. Keely’s breath caught in her chest. What had she done? She knew Nole spoke the truth, but she never thought that her feelings would affect the tree. As if reading her mind, Nole muttered into the cabinet. “The tree is special. Only with sincere care can the fruit produce the way it should. I have no doubt that you cared most gently for this crop, but your whole heart wasn’t in it.” She swallowed past the lump clogging her throat. Her heart had been far way from the tree. It had stayed with her expectant mother. This morning she had gone to the tree, looking forward to completing her task because it was her last day of duty. Now, because of her attitude, the entire valley would suffer. She stepped nearer to Nole. “What will happen?” “Ah,” he murmured, pulling out a long black candle. He didn’t answer as he passed her on his way to the table. Lighting the wick, he held the blue-black flame near the bruise. Keely remained silent as she waited for some sign that the fruit was all right. After several minutes, Nole’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. “The damage goes to the heart and I know of only one way to fix it,” he whispered, turning. His sharp gaze impaled her to the floor. “Be prepared for what the villagers say because it will be on your head to bring

the healing about.” She couldn’t ask in what way. Her knees shook and her teeth chattered. Fear swelled to panic. She eased back to the other side of the tower. Her legs trembled as she sat on a short stool. They could order her beaten or worse, send her from the valley for life. She would never see her parents or the new baby. If that happened, she would die broken hearted and alone. Years ago, another woman had caused the tree to drop fruit. She had been marked for ridicule and torment by all in the valley. Ostracized because of her crime against the community, Keely heard the stories of that woman’s lonely existence. Voices broke into her misery. She straightened. They had arrived. She glanced at Nole. He still studied the injured fruit. Deep heavy pounding came from the tower entrance. Nole frowned toward the stair opening, then at her. He nodded, and led the way to meet the people. Once through the massive door, they stopped at the top of the stone steps. Crisp fall air struck Keely in the face, taking her breath. Gathered in groups, several men held torches, lighting the area in front of the tower. Keely searched the group for her father. She found him moving toward the front of the crowd, his features lined with worry. Her heart constricted when she realized her mother

was still at home, unable to even stand up. She wanted to go to him, but until a decision was made, she must remain near Master Nole. Very little hope stayed with her as Nole explained why he had summoned the people. Torches flickered and cracked. Feet shuffled as the villagers listened to the deep toned words of the wizard. “Every twenty-five years the Tree of Providence blooms. It bears a crop of magical fruit. With this fruit, a juice is brewed. This is what keeps our valley free from strife, famine and war.” He paused, allowing the people to consider for a moment. “This year the Tree bloomed and produced the fruit. Lots were drawn and several young women were chosen. Young Keely among them. But she lapsed in her duty. She worried for her mother and the Tree knew this. It released a fruit too soon. Now it is bruised, useless unless healed.” When he finished, shocked silence permeated the group. Keely trembled. The Headsman of the valley stepped forward, shaking his head. “We feared such would happen. The ages of the women chosen to harvest are much too young. They have little knowledge of the danger and power the Tree holds over the valley,” he stated. His sharp black stare caught Keely’s gaze. “Do you realize the consequences that will befall the entire valley if the fruit is not

healed?” Before she could respond, he continued. “Children will die, crops fail, and sickness will enter this place. Brother will fight brother and death will come too soon for many. It will take years for the balance to be gained once more.” She thought of her unborn sibling. What if, because of her carelessness, the baby died? What if her mother died? A dull ache pressed on her chest. Guilty tears burned behind her eyes. Nole nodded in agreement. “She can heal the damage. The elders know how.” The Headsman, the largest man in the village, took the stairs two at a time. His broad frame blocked her view of the others when he stopped in front of her and studied her face. “Do you know what you need to do?” Keely teeth chattered, preventing her from answering. She managed to shake her head. The Headsman grasped her jaw in his large palm. His stale breath whooshed in her face when he continued. “There is only one way. You must go to the Wraith’s forest and ask him for the use of the blade.” Keely’s stomach roiled. The only way. No, she couldn’t–but she must. For her family and all the people that depended on the outcome of the harvest, she had to do what the Headsman said. She tried to find a measure of courage, but when she searched, she found nothing that would give her

the strength to enter the forest and confront the Wraith. He terrified her, even more so now that he had cut her hair. A woman shouted from the middle of the crowd. “Why do you not drive that creature from the forest?” Nole stiffened. “I cannot undo what was done years ago. The Wraith will remain in the forest. If I go, everyone knows what will occur. Do you wish your wizard insane like the men who enter the trees years ago? A maddened wizard brewing the fruit. I don’t believe you want that.” The Headsman released and moved from in front of her. Keely met the concerned gazes of many of her friends and neighbors. She couldn’t keep her voice from trembling when she spoke. “I will go. This is my fault, and I will make it right.” Nole nodded. A flicker of pride passed over his face when he looked at her. She didn’t know why he should gaze at her like that. After what she had done, she didn’t believe she deserved his admiration. The Headsman turned, leading the way down the steps and through the crowd. Many hands reached out and touched Keely as she passed. Only a few people grumbled. Keely fought against the tears that threatened to flow from her burning eyes. The grumbling she expected, but the kindness surprised her. Everyone present might have screamed and tried to hurt her, but they seemed to understand.

She recalled the Headsman’s words about the discussions concerning the ages of the harvesters. They had expected something to happen. She refused to fail in this matter. The fear and loathing she experienced at even the thought of entering the forest and confronting the Wraith stayed with her, but she would overcome them. For her family and all the others. The cool breeze ended abruptly when Keely entered the forest. She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd, cast in the torch light, on the forest’s edge. Forbidden to carry a torch, she faced the darkness in front of her. Which way? The forest, so vast, spread around her. Her search for the black robed creature could take days, even weeks. With time so vital, she hoped that he would find her first. She fumbled ahead and touched rough oak bark. She moved her hands before her as she slid her feet along the ground. When she looked back, she no longer saw the villagers. Crickets chirped their nightly song, but they gave little comfort. Husky hoots rang out. Keely flinched. Concentrating on moving helped to keep her mind from the Wraith. She came to a thicket of dense branches. She walked along the edge for a while, then pulled her dress hem from the back and tucked it through her belt. She dropped to her hands and knees, hoping to find a way

to the other side. The branches curved up from the base of the tall bushes. She slid between two of them, ignoring the overpowering scent of earth and decayed leaves. Too soon, the Wraith might stir her own scent with them, burying her forever. After several more feet, she broke free. The fresh, clear air refreshed her. Her chest labored for each breath. Odors of rich earth still filled her nostrils. She scrubbed a grimy hand over her face. Dirt turned to mud where the cold sweat coated her cheeks. She suppressed a hopeless sob. The forest had brightened. The moon had risen, casting light through the towering canopy. Off to one side, ahead of her, the trees thinned. She shoved up from the ground and stumbled along in that direction until she came to a small clearing. No more than thirty feet across, the clearing’s leaflayered ground held several fallen limbs and a large, high-back chair. The chair, in itself, should have caused the chill bumps to cover Keely’s skin, but it didn’t. Her gaze snagged and remained riveted on a tall, dark figure standing in the center of the clearing. With her legs threatening to collapse, Keely eased behind the nearest tree without taking her gaze off the creature. Moon beams lit on the form clothed in tattered black robes. Random sparkles sprang as the light touched the material. His face, hidden within the hood, tilted back toward the night sky. A gloved hand lifted

and reached, his fingers moving slightly, to the stars above. In that one moment, Keely’s chest tightened. Her fear dissolved into a strong need to comfort the Wraith. She lifted one foot to step into the clearing. In the span of a second, the Wraith stood before her, pressing her against a tree. Keely whimpered. She envisioned her torn body falling to join the decaying leaves. Pressing her palms into the bark, she stared wide-eyed into the black opening of the hood. “Please,” she whispered through chattering teeth. “I come for the blade. A fruit is damaged. The blade will heal it. Please, my mother...give me the blade.” A gloved hand lifted a section of her hair. He studied the blunt ends. Keely inhaled. Expecting the cloying aroma of death, she stilled, surprised by the rich fragrance coming from the specter. Wings fluttered above them, drawing her gaze to the darkened branches. Screeches bounced from tree to tree. Disoriented for a moment, her gaze followed the owl as it swooped low in the clearing and scooped up a mouse. The bird, never slowing in its flight, disappeared into the blackness on the opposite side. Instead of silence, she still heard the screeching echoes. She shook her head, and leaned nearer to the hooded figure. Raspy gasps came from the opening. Fright ebbing, Keely listened, determined to

decipher what the Wraith tried to say. Finally, after several moments, she understood. “What will you give me in return?” His words sent a chill up her spine. What could she give him? She possessed nothing of worth. Her voice, stronger now, rang out. “What do you wish me to give?” “Yourself. For one week, you will stay here. With me.” Without hesitation, she nodded. Once more, he moved with such speed that he blurred, then disappeared into the forest. She slumped against the rough trunk. Sobs erupted from her and changed to hysterical laughter. She lived. At least, for the present. But at what price? One week in exchange for her mother and sibling’s lives. A small toll to pay. She waited for several minutes. When he didn’t return, she struggled to her feet, pulling up with the aid of the tree. She stumbled into the clearing. In the center, she halted and looked up. Deep midnight greeted her. Stars glinted. So much beauty, yet so fleeting. Did he come here each evening to view this sight? Was this all the pleasure he found in this forest? Tears filled her eyes, and she scrubbed at them, hoping to wipe away the signs of her weakness. Her hair, tangled and matted with dead leaves and dirt, fluttered about her cheeks. She pulled the strands together and wrapped it into a knot at the base of her

skull. The chopped tendrils fell from the rest so she tucked them behind her ear. A cool breeze caressed her cheeks, giving her a small measure of reassurance. It reminded her of her mother’s soft touch. She glanced down at her bare knees, and noticed for the first time the scrapes from her fall. Her skirt was still tucked between her legs with the hem caught in the belt. She tugged the hem free and shook out the material. Keely groaned when her hair came free from the knot. She reached to grasp the mass, but stopped when she saw that the Wraith had reappeared. He glided along the outer edges of the clearing, circling, watching her. “What is your name?” His raspy whisper startled her. “Keely.” “How old are you?” “Seventeen.” The Wraith stopped. Night creatures sang. Keely waited. She wanted to know the same answers about him, but couldn’t force the words past her lips. Instead, she asked, “Where did you go? Did you heal the fruit?” “I told him of our agreement. He waits for you.” She sagged, closing her eyes. When she opened them, he stood a foot in front of her. She sucked in her breath. “The fruit is healed now,” she whispered.

“No.” “But my mother . . . ” “The decay is stopped. For now.” He held out a hand. “Come, Keely.” She stared at the gloved fingers and palm, then shook her head. “I will follow.” He spun about, leading her deeper into the towering trees. The foliage thickened, and she stumbled several times over unseen roots and limbs. The Wraith pulled out the glowing blade. A well-trodden path showed before them. “The darkness is an old companion of mine,” he told her. “But for you, I will light the way.” “It frightens me,” she murmured. “More so than I?” “No. You terrify me.” He remained silent. They traveled for some time. When they emerged from the cover of trees, a rusted, ornate gate, opened wide, appeared before them. Keely, surprised at the intricate iron work showing through an array of vining plants, stared past it, across overgrown lawns, to the towering house. “What is this place? How did it come to be?” She moved nearer to the Wraith, waiting for his answers. He glided toward the entrance. “Do not try to flee. The forest will hold you for me until the time you have completed your obligation.”

Keely stifled a sob. The thought had crossed her mind, but she had discarded it. Where could she run? He would find her, then what would he do? The unknown flirted with her imagination, sending horrid, ghastly visions to her. She hurried to catch up to him. The front door swung back, allowing them entrance to the yawning foyer. He moved on, the robes barely stirring, up the spiraling staircase to the right. Closed double doors lined the hallway. Leaves and dirt covered the tiled floors. She glanced at the Wraith. He waited, his back to her, at the top of the stairs. She grasped the banister, but pulled her hand back. A thick layer of dust coated her palm. She gripped her skirt, wiping her hand clean as she hastened after him. He continued down the second floor’s hallway until he reached a door. The blade appeared in his hand, and he swiped an x shape through the air in front of the portal. The door opened on quiet hinges. Keely’s eyes widened when she glanced into the room. None of the gloom existed in this room. The pale-varnished furniture shone and the peach-hued carpets revealed their bright color. She eased past the Wraith. How could this place exist with him? Was this some strange wicked magic he concocted to lure her with a false sense of security while he waited to pounce on her when the time was right? A shiver raced up her back, and she glanced back at him.

He lifted an arm and motioned to the right. “You may bathe in there. Fresh dresses are hanging in the wardrobe. Rest tonight. In the morning, we will become better acquainted.” The door slammed, separating them. Keely’s stomach grumbled. She wrapped her arms about her middle. An aroma of delicious food reached out and tempted her to eat. There, to one side of the fireplace, was a small table set with plates and covered dishes. Her mouth watered. She inched closer, wondering if this was a trap. Carefully, she lifted a lid. Steam escaped from the dome. Underneath, succulent sliced roast stewed in its juices. She recovered the dish. Hopeless desperation filled her mind. How had her mother taken the news of her absence? With slow, sluggish steps, she went to the door to which the Wraith had motioned, and opened it. Bubbles foamed in steamy water. Keely searched for any way the Wraith could watch, then retrieved a nightgown from the wardrobe. The water, when she lay back in the oversize vessel, stung and soothed at the same time. She rested her head against the rim and closed her eyes. Thoughts of all the chores she needed to help with, to save her mother the burden of having to do them, flitted through her mind. She wished today had never ended this way.

Some time later, she awoke, surprised and confused about her surroundings. The water, still warm, swirled about her bare skin. Recalling the events from earlier, she frowned at the water. The temperature struck her as odd. How could it remain warm after she stayed for so long? She hastened out of the tub and dressed. Too heartsick to worry about whether or not the food was safe, she ate the still warm meal, then crawled under the silken comforter on the canopied bed. She bundled, pulling the covers tight about her just in case there were other creatures in this place besides the Wraith. Body and mind exhausted, she dozed off. In the morning, she arose and dressed in a muslin gown. The slippers she slid onto her feet fit to perfection. Uneasy with the strangeness of this, she ate another hot meal, and remained tense as she went downstairs. The first closed door beckoned her to open it. Cobwebs draped the chandelier in the center of the room. The furniture, masked by grayish sheets, waited where they were placed. Each room revealed more of the same. As though the owner left for a long journey and had yet to return. On the backside of the house, in the last room, a set of doors with lead panes tempted her. She walked to them, a cloud of dust in her wake. Waving a hand in front of her face, she tried not to sneeze. Grime

streaked both sides of the glass. Tired of the decay around her, she twisted the handles and shoved the doors wide. The frames groaned from neglect. Glad to be out of the foreboding house, she moved to the edge of a stone terrace. Sunlight streamed down on her face. She smiled, closing her eyes to enjoy this one simple pleasure. “You rested well last night?” Keely cried out and stumbled. The Wraith stood in the shadows along the far side of the terrace. She pressed a hand over her pounding heart. “You frightened me.” “That was not my intention.” Straightening, she clutched her hands together at her waist. “What is your intention?” He remained silent. “Why won’t you answer me? What do you want from me?” She stepped nearer, needing answers. “Come into the shadows.” He lifted a hand to her. “Walk with me.” She wanted to cry, to scream and rant at him, but acting in such a way wouldn’t help. She just wanted to go home and aid her mother, yet this creature held her here for reasons he wouldn’t confess. She moved so that only a few feet separated them. “What is your name? Do you have one?” “My name...is forgotten. I remember it, but no one else does.” He let his hand fall to his side, and glided

away from the house, keeping to the deeper shade. “Is a name so important that it will be remembered forever?” For the next few moments, she pondered his question, wondering if perhaps he had a purpose in asking. “No, I suppose not. But I would hate to think that the ones who love me would forget even my name.” “And if the loved ones are gone, what would it matter?” “If I am dead, I suppose I wouldn’t care, but I’m not dead,” she glanced at the darkness within the hood. “So I do care. I don’t want to be forgotten.” “I am not dead either.” A shiver raced up her back. She stopped and stared at him. He moved past her and halted. Tilting her head, she listened when he spoke. “I grew up here. All this, at one time, was lovingly tended. Now, because of me, it is as you see it.” The raspiness of his voice deepened. “You are the first person I have spoken to in over a hundred years.” She shook her head. “Why? What did you do?” The Wraith had always been in the forest. Her mother’s mother told tales of him. But no one spoke of the reasons why he was there. “The Tree of Providence is a bane,” he said, and started gliding forward once more. Keely’s eyes widened. “Did you, too, not tend it

properly?” “Because of the tree and the need for its protection, a spell was placed upon me,” he said, stopping again. He turned to her. “Better to sacrifice one for the betterment of all.” Shock filled her. “What are you saying? That a hundred years ago, the people in the valley put a spell on you so that you would guard the tree?” “Not the people. My father and the first wizard.” His words still vibrated in the air around her, repeating within her mind long after he blurred and disappeared. For the rest of the day, Keely wandered through the abandoned gardens, pondering on what the Wraith had told her. Did he lie, or were his words true? The valley flourished because of the tree, but if the tree disappeared, then all prosperity would end. Had the first wizard done this to the Wraith? Was this a way of protecting the tree so others outside the valley could never obtain the magical fruit? The sun had lowered to the tops of the trees when she found a bench amid the wildflowers and weeds. With a sloping fountain in front of her, she listened to the water trickling. The peaceful rhythm soothed her rattled nerves. She studied the landscape, remembering his comment about the gardens. Lovingly cared for. Were his the hands that tilled the soil and planted the shrubs

and flowers? Here and there, a brilliant splash of color showed in the greens and browns of the foliage. Yes, she could see that these were, at one time, breathtaking. A little to her right, a dark shape caught her eye. The Wraith watched from a short distance. She sighed. He had followed her all day. She noticed him often. He would appear in the deeper shadows along the fringes of the forest, reminding her that this was real. “Why do you watch me?” She called to him. “What do you want from me?” He glided nearer. “You remind me of someone I once knew.” Keely tilted her head. “I’m not her.” “No.” “Why did you cut my hair yesterday?” Behind her now, he halted. “I wanted to touch it. To see if my memory was correct.” “About what?” “The softness of a beautiful woman’s hair.” Keely swallowed, then stuttered. “W-w-was it? As you remembered?” “I cannot feel the strands. I have tried, but....” “Because you’re a Wraith?” “Yes.” Tears burned at the back of Keely’s eyes. Nowhere in all the tales of this wretched creature had anyone told of this. That he would desire what he’d lost. Was

there no way to help him? “Can the spell be broken?” She blurted out, twisting to face him. “No.” “Perhaps, Master Nole can...” she started, but the Wraith hastened away, his robes flowing behind him. “Why do you leave?” Keely cried. She rose and ran after him, but soon gave up. He moved too fast. Frustrated, she returned to the house. When she entered her room, the difference between it and the rest of the house assaulted her senses; furniture restored, carpets spotless, linens fresh. He did this for her. Whatever power he possessed, he used it to make this room perfect. She lay on the bed, staring up at the beautiful peach patterns on the canopy. The tears that had threatened earlier flowed unchecked from her eyes. She cried for him, for what he’d lost, and most of all, she cried for herself. They were both caught by the spell that bound him. He to the forest, and because of his need to experience what he lost, her to him. A short time later, she awoke to a knock. She swiped her face, rolled from the bed and stumbled to the door. Pulling it open, she gripped the handle. He stood in the darkness. His words when he spoke lingered in the air around her. “I would like to hear you read to me.” She nodded. “Let me freshen up and change.”

“Eat. The food is fresh and will hearten you.” “Will you wait?” “I am always waiting.” Keely swallowed and shut the door. She hurried, bathed and ate, then dressed in a lavender satin dress trimmed with lace. Two silver combs held her hair away from her face. She studied her reflection, admitting that she looked different. Prettier. The dress clasped her body in a silken embrace, and the wide lace quivered on the scooped neckline and at her elbows. Her black hair glinted, and was that a sparkle in her dark brown eyes? She smiled, and went to the door. True to his word, he waited across the hall. He faced her for several minutes. She stepped near to him, her gaze captured by the darkness in the hood. As one, they turned and moved side-by-side, silent, until they reached the library. The dust and grime seemed less thick than it had this afternoon. He led her to a chair in front of the empty hearth. With a wave of the blade, flames burst into a lovely fire within the stone recess. Candles around the room flickered and flared to life. He retrieved a leather bound manuscript from the mantle and handed it to her. Keely opened the cover and started to read. The tale captured her imagination and she spoke the words with heart. When the last page turned and she whispered the end, she looked at him. The clock on

the mantle chimed twelve times, then he spoke. “Thank you.” “It was a wonderful story. I enjoyed it too,” she said with a smile. Each remained silent for several moments. The old house creaked and groaned in the night, the wind rattled the windows and doors. He glided toward her. “Do you like music?” She nodded. “Would you...only if you care to...dance with me?” A thrill of hope and something more flooded Keely’s senses. “I would be honored to dance with you.” He motioned for her to follow him. “Come, there is a room where grand parties were held.” Within minutes, they stood before the faded ornate double doors, her heart sped so that she feared it would flutter from her chest. She glanced at him and tried to imagine what he looked like before, but she couldn’t. The robes betrayed nothing, except for his height. She had no clues on where to start. He brought the knife out and once more slashed an x in the air. The doors swung wide. A long rectangular room, lit by a few candles, spread out before front of them. In the center, a small round table with a wooden chest on top waited. She stepped into the room, gazing about her. Clean, the candlelight reflected off the varnished

wainscots and white paint. Ivory cherubs peeked from folded wings across the ceiling. The change in the room from when she seen it this morning amazed her. “How did you do this?” The Wraith glided to the table. He laid the blade next to the chest, then opened the lid. Soft, tinkling music commenced. Keely tilted her head, listening to the arresting tune. So pretty. He turned and faced her, waiting. She raised her gaze to the hood. He wouldn’t come to her. She glided forward. His hand, slightly trembling, rose. Keely placed her fingers against his gloved encased ones. No warmth came from the black leather. She didn’t care. For this night, she wanted him to have what was absent. He enfolded her hand in his and brought her into his embrace. The robes winged out from his body, glittering in the candlelight. She smiled. The ever-present fear disappeared. She moved with him in a slow waltz. Joy filled her as the music carried them away. The Wraith no longer existed. In his place, a dashing young man danced with her. The balcony doors slammed against the inner walls of the room, breaking the spell that captured her. The Wraith drew back, his body rigid and straight. A reddish glow formed in the hood. Frightened, she listened to the wind rushing into the room, bringing with it dead leaves.

He turned toward them, tilting his head. “Someone is in forest. No. He is in the forest.” Without another word, the Wraith blurred and whipped out of the doors. Keely stood near the table, fear escalating in her heart. What if her father had come searching for her? Please, Father, not you. Or worse, Master Nole? The people could not brew the fruit alone. They needed the wizard. She stepped toward the door, but the shining blade on the table caught her attention. Her gaze shot from the doorway to the blade. She grabbed the knife, lifted her skirts and ran into the night. The blade lit the way as she followed the path through the gates and toward the clearing. She stumbled and fell twice before she reached the open space. Racing past, she stopped, breathless at the thicket. The handle warmed in her hand. She raised the glowing tip, hoping as she whispered. “Open for me.” A gap appeared. She ran until she reached the spot where she entered the forest. Master Nole paced along the edge, watching her. She stopped at the tree line. “You have it. Good, good. Give it to me.” Nole strode toward her. “Who entered the forest? He went after them,” she said, panting. Nole held his hand out. “Give me the blade. Now, before he comes.” Keely studied the wizard. Angry lines creased his

face. He seemed older, menacing. She shook her head. “I can’t leave this place. I promised him.” An inhuman shriek came from deep in the forest. Nole muttered a low incantation, the words foreign to her, and stepped closer. He grasped her wrist, squeezing. Pain shot up her arm. The blade fell to the leaf ground. Numb shock filled her. “What are you doing?” “I haven’t waited a hundred years to lose this blade to an honorable girl,” Nole muttered, picking up the knife. “This belongs to me.” The branches rattled above their heads as the winds picked up. Nole jerked his head toward the inner forest. “He comes, but he won’t have me nor the blade. He wasn’t supposed to pick it up after I killed the old wizard.” Keely staggered back. “What do you mean?” “The old fool placed the spell turning him into a Wraith. He held the knife in his hand and was taken to the forest. I’ve been waiting and planning all these years, just for the right moment.” Insane laughter erupted from him. “Now, it’s mine.” “But the fruit? You need to heal the fruit,” she cried. “Ha. Silly fool, you thought you caused the fruit to fall. You didn’t look at the stem. I cut it from the tree and made sure it bruised.” Nole said. “One fruit is enough for the entire valley. The rest I sell or concoct

the potion that allows me to stay young. I have barrels of the juice in the cellar.” Shaking her head, Keely, forgetting the pain in her wrist, charged him. “No. You can’t have it.” She reached for the hand that gripped the blade, but missed. Nole lurched at her. The shiny blade disappeared to the hilt into her middle. Keely gasped, freezing in place. The shrieks drew nearer as Nole tugged free. She fell to her hands and knees. Blood poured in a widening oval, mixing with the leaves and twigs on the forest floor. Weakness filled her muscles and she slumped onto her side. “Why are you doing this?” She whispered. He cackled, backing out of the forest. “This valley, the people, everything will belong to me. I’ll no longer have to be the good wizard. I will rule like a king. Rule even the world, if I choose. With this blade, I am invincible.” Oak limbs swayed and groaned above her. She felt more than saw the Wraith reach the tree line where Nole stood. Struggling, she covered her wound with one hand and pulled forward with the other until she rested against a tree trunk. Each breath became harder. “Ah, Seth, there you are.” Nole sneered. “Pity about the girl. She does so remind me of Jenna. That was your sweet lady’s name, wasn’t it?” Unholy noises rose from the hood. The Wraith

glided back and forth, seeming to search for a way to reach Nole. The wizard raised the blade, mocking him. The shining edge cast the wizard’s face in hideous lines. “Did you find my lure? A little of my blood and a straw figure conjured on the other side of the forest. Enough of a distraction. Tell me, how did the stupid girl get this?” The Wraith ceased all movement. Nole tilted his head, frowning. She watched, mesmerized, when the Wraith’s glove hand rose and flattened on the bark next to him. His deep voice sent a thrill of joy to her heart. “Let my will be known.” Nole’s frown deepened. Blood leaked from between her fingers. Sturdy vines streaked out and wrapped about the wizard’s wrists, ankles, and neck. With one jerk, Nole left the ground and flew into the forest. The knife fell from his hand. Keely closed her eyes, satisfied that he would not escape. Hoarse screams filled the night until they were abruptly cut off. Tired, Keely allowed her body to slip to the side. She lay there, the pain disappearing in slow degrees. From a distance, she heard someone speaking. Deep, loving words. She tried to smile. Searing heat flared in her stomach. She cried out,

unsure of what was happening. Within seconds, the fire ceased. A surge of strength flowed in her. She sat up and looked into the Wraith’s hood. “You’re safe now. He is no more.” He brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek. “I’m alive,” she whispered. “Yes.” “How?” She felt and found nothing. The pain and blood had disappeared. “This holds much power. Even to save lives.” He took her hand and placed the blade’s handle in it, closing her fingers. “It is yours now.” Tears welled in her eyes. She swallowed a sob. “But...” A gloved finger touched her lips. “Shhh. I want you to have it. I want you to free me.” Keely shook her head. She tried to refuse. How could she do what he asked of her? He had suffered for so long. “You can and must do it. Nole is gone. Punished for his crimes. My time is finished.” He cupped her cheek. “Please. Do this for me.” She nodded and let him help her to stand. Stifling a sob, she stepped nearer and wrapped her arms about his waist. “I’ll never forget you...Seth.” He rested his head against hers for a moment, then moved away, releasing her. She took a shaky breath, and raised the blade. “I want you to be freed from the

spell. To be happy for eternity.” His robes twinkled as a blinding light started in the center of his chest and grew to enfold him. As he disappeared, she thought she heard him whisper, “Thank you.” Keely stood there for a long time. She listened to the forest speaking. Recollections of the past day and evening played in her mind. Her only consolation was that he was free. After a while, she returned home. Everyone listened when she told them the story. The news buzzed through the valley several times. Many of the older residents spoke of the stories that their parents told of the first wizard’s death. Two days passed. At the dawn of the second day, her mother gave birth to a healthy boy. Keely reveled in the child, happy he arrived without problems. Late in the afternoon of the third day, she walked to the Tree of Providence. Hands trembling, she held the knife against the trunk. “Go into the heart. Stay forever, away from any who would use your power for evil,” she murmured. Within seconds, the blade melded into the bark and disappeared from sight. Keely sighed, glad that it was safe. She wandered into the forest. Brighter, more alive with bird song and nature’s music, the forest brought her peace. She arrived at the clearing. Two sparrows

played tag, then perched on the back of the chair, twittering. Keely smiled. How many times had he sat in that chair? Had he watched like this? She leaned against an oak, recalling the moment she saw him here. In the distance, hammering rang out. Keely tilted her head and listened. When the banging faded, curiosity prodded her to walk on the path to the house. The gates rose up; their rusted surfaces scraped clean, boasting a fresh coat of white paint. She stood transfixed by the change. Who could have done this? Someone from the village, or had an outsider come to the forest and claimed this place? Not wanting to believe that a stranger would live in the house, she hurried past the gates. She slowed as she approached the rambling building. The facade didn’t seem quite as foreboding and eerie as it had when she’d stayed the night. She stopped, crossing her arms over her waist and studied the place. It reminded her of an old lady, aged but still regal in her bearing. Paint peeled, and here and there the boards showed signs of decay. Several window panes were missing. A slight movement at the far corner caught her gaze. A man bent over a board, sawing the end. For a moment, anger filled her. What did he think he was doing? Where had he come from, and what gave him

the right to be here? Determined to find out the answers, she marched toward him. After several steps, she slowed. Light brown hair fell against his cheeks as he leaned over the saw. A drop of sweat fell from the tip of his finely chiseled nose. The skin of his face and forearms showed signs of a light tan, but the rise of his cheeks appeared reddened, as if he wasn’t accustomed to the sun’s heated rays. She frowned, not caring for the way her heart skipped a beat. One deep breath to bolster her strength, she rushed forward, her mouth opened to demand the reason behind him being here. She froze when he lifted his dark blue gaze to her. He straightened, the saw hanging loosely from his fingers. He nodded twice, then said, “Hello.” Words died in her throat. The saw rattled when it hit the ground. He took a step to her. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Without thinking, Keely lurched to him, throwing her arms about his neck. That deep rasping voice, the one she thought gone forever, murmured soft endearments into her hair. Strong arms enfolded her against his chest, and she knew that the fulfillment of her request had occurred. Not just for him, but for her also. The End