Free Shadow Tree by Jake Halpern Page A

a claw or a beak meandered curiously down the back of his jacket. The smell of wet fur filled his nostrils. One of the creatures bent down so close that Leif could feel its hot steamy breath on his neck, and he heard it say, “Stand up slowly and keep your eyes closed.” The voice sounded familiar. Leif had heard it before, perhaps in a dream. “Hurry now,” said the voice, “On your feet.”
    Not knowing what else to do, Leif obeyed.
    â€œYou’ve broken our rules,” said the voice.
    â€œI know,” said Leif. “I am sorry – I am just a father looking for...”
    â€œYour son,” finished the voice. “We know.”
    Several bodies moved behind him, there were snarls, and once again Leif waited for an attack; but it didn’t come.
    â€œI know
you
, don’t I?” asked Leif finally.
    â€œYes,” said the voice.
    â€œWho are you?”
    â€œBe quiet,” said the voice. “Now listen carefully. I want you to reach backwards with your right hand, very slowly. I am going to give you something.”
    Once again, Leif did as he was told. He reached backwards tentatively and soon he felt someone – or something – press a smooth, flat, hard object into his hand.
    â€œHold it up to your face,” said the voice. Leif obeyed. “Now open your eyes.”
    Leif blanched.
Was this a trick? Were they trying to make him break the rules? Were they looking for an excuse to kill him?
But surely, if they wanted to kill him, they already could have done so. He had little choice. He opened his eyes. It was dark in the forest, but the sky still glowed with the light of dusk, and Leif saw the face of a gaunt, haggard man, with a grizzly white beard. It took him a moment to realize that he was gazing into a mirror, at his own reflection. In all the years that had passed since he left World’s End, Minnesota, he hadn’t once had a chance to look at himself in the mirror. It was frightening to do so. It looked as if he had aged decades.
    â€œNow turn the mirror slowly to the left so that you can see over your shoulder,” said the voice. “And be careful. If you drop the mirror or turn around, my companions will feast on your flesh.”
    Leif took a deep breath and slowly tilted the mirror. As he did this, something clicked in his brain, and he suddenly recognized the creature’s voice. It belonged to Imad, the Cyclops who had visited him in his dream; and as he continued to tilt the mirror, the image that came into view was Imad’s broad face, with its single, bloodshot eyeball situated in the center of his forehead.
    â€œYou,” stammered Leif. His hand trembled.
    â€œBloody hell – hold the mirror steady!” barked Imad. “You mustn’t see the others.”
    â€œOK,” said Leif. He tensed his wrist and fingers and held the mirror as tightly as he could. “But I don’t understand... Are you a...”
    â€œNo,” said Imad. “I am not. It is an illusion created by the mirror. The mirror allows you to see me as Imad. I do not exist. But let me assure you, the Straszydlo do exist. I can hold them at bay, for a while, but they will tear you to pieces if you do not do exactly as I say. Understand?”
    â€œYes,” said Leif. “But what about the boy?”
    â€œForget about the boy,” said Imad angrily. “He’s not Alfonso. In fact he’s not a boy at all.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œListen to me,” said Imad. “Just a stone’s throw off to your left, you’ll find a faint animal trail. Follow it for a quarter mile or so – it’ll take you where you want to go – to a great old tree.”
    â€œA great old tree,” repeated Leif. “And is that where the boy went?”
    â€œYes,” said Imad. “But the boy won’t find what he’s looking for.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause I have hidden