The Forest, by Ben Greenfield - Chapter 10: "The Kateawan"

Tink spat passionately into the ground as he surveyed the wreckage of his flying machine. Cursed criminals. The enraged elf was lit up against the meadow grass by the light of the two moons. The air was cold, there was no sign of the sun rising anytime soon, and Terran clenched and unclenched his fists to keep his fingers warm in the night air as he watched Tink pace and mutter furiously. The elf still held a giant stick he had grabbed as a weapon before he had come charging from the debris shelter. What the blasted use would those dirty nightcrawlers want with parts from my flying machine? As he vented, he fumbled with the one previously undamaged wing, which appeared to now be missing most of its leather straps. My coal bucket, half my webbing, the steel rods. Gone, gone, gone. Shameless thieves, all of them. As Terran puzzled over how Tink, standing in the dark, could so thoroughly evaluate the damage to his flying machine, he heard river whisper into his ear, you think we can go back to sleep now? Terran shrugged, mildly annoyed that he had rushed back into the debris shelter and awoken Tink after seeing the figures in the night. The boys both watched as Tink reached into the cockpit of his flying machine to grab a handful of oily rags, which he quickly wrapped around the stick. Then, as if to answer River's question, in one swift motion, Tink produced a spark of green light from his green stone, lit the end of the makeshift torch, and turned to the boys as orange and yellow light suddenly burst into the meadow. Let's go get em, boys. Terran squinted into the bright light of the torch. Tink, it's dark. Shouldn't we wait until morning? Tink was already pacing towards the other side of his flying machine, waving the torch back and forth across the ground. Footprints. Tracks. If we don't get hot on now, they'll be long gone before morning. Onwards, ho. He patted on his side belt, tapping to check that his black dagger was still there, then looked at the boys. Grab the nearest weapon, fellas. You may need it after all. Arctan is said to harbor the most deranged of lunatics. Terran bent down and picked up a rock. There was no time now to show their powers to Tink, or to explain that neither of them was very likely to need a weapon. He glanced towards river, who stood with arms folded, obviously even more bothered than Terran at the prospect of missing a good night's sleep. Riv, terran whispered. Just grab something. We may as well help him.

River sighed, groped towards the grass, and picked up a stick Tink was already several yards away, head close to the ground, waving his torch in circles and inspecting the tracks he had found. He muttered quietly to himself, looking right and left as he wandered slightly farther down into the meadow. Then he turned and smiled at the boys. If it's trouble they want, they're gonna get it. They went this way, into the trees. Let's give chase, shall we? For the first several minutes, weaving down the forest trail, Terran's head spun with fatigue. Midnight didn't seem to be the right time to be charging through the woods. It seemed far more fitting to sleep and to give chase in the morning. But as he ran as close as possible to Tink's coattails, his lungs began to fill and burn with the cold night air, and he grad gradually felt his eyes opening wider and wider and his sight adjusting to the darkness. Darkness that seemed to grow deeper and deeper as they ventured into the trees. Behind him, he heard rivers, labored breathing, and the sharp pounding of his brother's shoes. They'd barely had time to put on their hoodies and shoes before Tink went charging down into the forest, cursing under his breath and waving his torch. Everything going on seemed too hasty, too hurried, too unplanned. But Tink moved with uncanny speed down the trail, leaping over roots and scrambling through rocky sections while horses. Hoisting his torch high. Terran had always imagined that a nightly hunt in the forest would involve stealth and stalking, but instead, the elf seemed to be on an angry rampage, cracking sticks underfoot and loudly muttering as he ran. Suddenly, Tink stopped. He waved his torch towards the ground. See that, boys? They veered off. As Tink peered into the darkness where the tracks appeared to weave from the main trail and into even thicker trees, Terran finally had a chance to take his first look at the footprints they'd been following. He squatted down by Tink's torch and squinted at the damp earth. Both sets of footprints were strangely wide, nearly as wide as they were long, and easily twice the size of an adult human's foot, with no apparent inward curving or arch. The tracks also seemed to indicate extremely long strides, with nearly four feet between each footprint. As Tink pulled his torch away and began to move again down the trail, Terran saw a sharp claw mark at the end of each toe. He felt River's warm, heavy breath over his neck and heard his brother sharply whisper in his ear, you saw that, right? Whatever we're chasing, it's big and it's got claws. Terran shrugged. Or really long, nasty toenails. Let's go. Tink's Disappearing Tink's torchlight was already fading into the trees, bobbing up and down and sweeping side to side as he leapt over logs and dodged bushes. As river sprinted forward to catch Tink, Terran paused for a moment and looked back. He had to make sure to double check. He focused on a dark mound of dirt jutting from the side of the trail and nudged his head to the left. The mound collapsed. Terran smiled, spun around, and raced to catch up with the others. By the time Terran came crashing through the underbrush, Tink and River were hunched over yet another footprint, Tink's torch once again held low to the ground. There, hanging from an exposed root next to the footprint, was a tuft of dry, dark brown hair. Tink plucked the hair away from the root and held it up to the torchlight. His eyes suddenly grew wide and he quietly muttered, kataywan. As his voice trailed. He looked into the bushes where the footprints disappeared, his face overcast by a combination of fear and excitement. Then he looked at the boys and motioned for them to get down to the ground. River and Terran settled down onto their stomachs against the underbrush, debris, and dirt, and Tink brought his face closer to theirs. The stuff of legends, boys. Catawan. Their existences were rumored in ancient text or mumb by dying hunters. But though these are smaller than what I've expected, I've encountered the same shape as these enormous wide footprints in the library scrolls. I suspect we may be chasing Categon, but now here's the hair to prove it. At first glance, hair like elk, deer, or moose, but no cloven hooved animal has footprints like these. Still on his stomach, Terran stretched his hand towards the root and pulled away another small bit of hair, bringing it close to his face for inspection. Are they dangerous? Tink slowly rose up onto all fours in a crawling position, looking right then left. Half man, half ape, covered in hair, as strong as a bull, as quick as a bear, with a neck thick as a trunk, the stature of a miniature giant, and the ability to move as quietly as the wind. I hazard a guess. Yes, quite dangerous. He motioned the boys to sneak forward with him. But these pairs seem sloppy. First they let you see them, and now they're leaving footprints as obvious as a galloping horse. So who's to say? Perhaps they're just clumsy. Ap I suspect we'll find out soon. Tink was already several feet away as he finished this thought, now moving forward more guardedly, stepping softly stooped over and still holding his torch low, Terran bit his lower lip nervously. He glanced at river, who was cautiously holding back. Terran held up his hands and shifted them side to side, as if moving the earth with his powers. River nodded. If there was a skirmish, they would be ready. Each step was now painfully slow, deliberate, and carefully placed. It seemed like they were stalking at a snail's pace. Step. Hold the torch low. Find footprints. Look for broken twigs, tufts of hair. Step again. Repeat. The sky had already began to grow much more light, much sooner than expected. It must have been very early in the morning when Terran first woke and saw the figures, and now the skylight was beginning to creep through the dense forest. Shadows began to materialize in the space between the dark of the night and very early morning. A dark bush appeared to be a hairy night creature. A fallen tree morphed into a large sleeping serpent. Tangled roots on the ground were a crouching body. Terran kept reminding himself that these early morning optical illusions were normal on early morning hunts with his father. He remembered kneeling in the bushes for hours, waiting for the animals to stir and the sun to appear over the horizon in the dawn light. Subtle movements in the trees and shadows on the trail were easy for the mind to transform into rabbits, deer, turkey, and other living creatures. This forest was no different. As the morning light continued to grow, Tink extinguished his torch and slowly moved forward. The trees were thinning, and they seemed to be coming into some kind of clearing. It happened faster than any of them could think or react. First, Tink tripped and stumbled slightly forward, as if caught by a barely visible wire in the path. Then the ground rose up around all of them, violently hurling leaves, debris, and twigs into the air as a giant maze of thickness. Thick, gnarled rope materialized from the earth like a writhing mass of snakes, surrounding them on all sides. Terran heard Tink grunt loudly as he shot up into the air, carried by a knotted section of the rope snare. And then at the same time, Terran felt another section of the rope burn his skin as it rolled up the inside of his leg, swept him off his feet, and flipped him upside down. Behind him, as the world spun, he heard river let out a loud, piercing cry, caught by his armpit and hurled upwards by the net's powerful trajectory. Within a split second, the three of them were suspended from the trees, hanging inside a rope snare, quivering quivers. Tink, now upside down beside Terran, flailed as he whipped his head around to look at the forest floor 10ft below them. The rope creaked as the entire gnarled cage swung back and forth from Tink. Struggling, Terran arched his back and thrust his chin up to look backwards at river, who was groaning uncomfortably as he hung half in and half out of the cage, but with his entire leg and arm trapped by two different sections of the snare and protruding through the rope below them. There was a rustle, a stick snapped loudly. Something was coming and it was making no attempt to be silent. Terran craned his neck to look in the direction of the sound and at the same time heard another large loud crunch and more movement coming from the other side of the snare. The small clump of trees below him and to the right also swayed as something very large moved through it. Steps crunching, rustling, snapping, and movement seemed to suddenly be coming from all directions. The first figure to emerge from the trees was a large, hairy, muscular, bipedal, ape like creature nearly nine feet tall. It was covered in a solid layer of shaggy black hair with smooth skin on its face and hands. Its shoulders were wide and muscular and it had a thick barrel chest nearly as wide as three men, with arms that hung nearly down to its knees. The hands were large and wide with stubby fingers, and in one hand it brandish a large stick with a sharp tapered rock lashed onto the end of it. It looked up at the three prisoners with deep dark set eyes showing a face with a broad flat nose and an enormous sneering mouthful of crooked sharp teeth. Behind this figure two more nearly identical creatures followed, slightly shorter but also covered in thick shaggy fur and also brandishing long spear like weapons. And behind these three gigantic grotesque creatures, two identical smaller ones meandered out below the snare from the other side, one holding the coal bucket from Tink's flying machine and the other grasping a handful of leather webbing and two steel rods. Terran knew it before Tink screamed it and said it. Catehuan Thieves.