36. Zaiah

36

ZAIAH

As Ignatius and I set off towards the depths of the forest, I get the very distinct feeling that we're walking into something far more dangerous than we anticipated. The book's cryptic descriptions of the Moonshade herb have left me uneasy, to say the least.

"So," Ignatius says, breaking the tense silence that has fallen between us, "any idea what this Moonshade looks like?"

I shake my head, my eyes scanning the dark forest around us. The trees loom ominously, their branches reaching out like gnarled fingers in the night. I frown. "Were we really having sex like all day long?" I mutter.

Ig shakes his head. "Nope. Night has fallen early."

"It knows."

"It always knows. Moonshade?"

Focusing again on the question, I say, "The book wasn't exactly forthcoming with details. Just that it grows in the ‘deepest, darkest part of the forest' and that it ‘shuns the light of day'."

"Brilliant," Ignatius mutters, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Nothing like a vague, ominous description to get the blood pumping."

I smirk at his comment. "Well, at least we know it'll be a challenge. We wouldn't want this to be too easy, would we? Oh, but hey, is that why it's night now? So, we can gather the ingredients we need?"

Ignatius snorts, a small flame dancing between his fingers. "Oh yes, because everything about this situation has been a walk in the park so far. But yeah. Maybe. I wouldn't put anything past MistHallow."

As we walk deeper into the forest, the trees grow denser, their branches intertwining overhead to block out what little moonlight manages to filter through. The air grows thick and heavy, filled with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. The usual sounds of the forest - chirping insects, rustling leaves - fade away, replaced by a ghostly silence that sets my nerves on edge.

"I don't like this," I murmur my djinn senses on high alert. "It feels like the forest is watching us."

Ignatius nods, the flame in his hand growing slightly larger, casting eerie shadows on the surrounding trees. The flickering light makes the forest seem even more menacing, the shadows dancing and shifting as if alive. "Yeah, I'm getting that too. Like we're not welcome here."

We push on, the undergrowth becoming more tangled and dangerous with each step. Thorny vines snag at our clothes, and more than once, I have to use my djinn magick to phase through a particularly dense patch of vegetation. Ignatius's flame provides our only light now, the darkness pressing in on all sides like a living entity.

"You know," Ignatius says, his voice low as if he's afraid to disturb the oppressive silence, "I've been thinking about what Adelaide said. About Malachar and the elders."

I raise an eyebrow, curious despite our current predicament. "What about it?"

Ignatius hesitates, choosing his words carefully. "Well, what if she's right? What if we've been looking at this all wrong? Maybe Randall is the only real threat here."

The thought had crossed my mind as well, but hearing it spoken aloud makes it feel more real, more possible. "It would explain a lot," I admit. "But if that's true, it means we're even more in the dark than we thought."

"Exactly," Ignatius nods, his expression grim in the flickering firelight. "We might be walking into something far bigger than we realise."

Before I can respond, I feel a shift in the air, a subtle change that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "Wait," I hiss, grabbing Ignatius's arm.

He freezes, his eyes darting around, searching for the unseen threat. "What is it?"

Before I can answer, the ground beneath our feet begins to move. At first, it's just a slight tremor. But then, with a sound like ripping fabric, roots burst from the earth, writhing like snakes, trying to entangle our legs.

"Fuck!" Ignatius shouts, leaping back and sending a burst of flame towards the attacking roots. They recoil from the heat, withering and blackening, but more surge up to take their place, an endless army of tentacles reaching for us.

I tap into my magick, focusing my energy to create a shimmering barrier around us. It's like trying to hold back a flood with my bare hands, the pressure of the forest's malevolent energy presses against my will. The roots slam against the barrier, unable to penetrate but not for lack of trying.

"Well," I pant, sweat beading on my forehead as I try to maintain the barrier. "I think we've found the right place."

Ignatius snorts, his hands wreathed in flame that seems to burn brighter and hotter than usual, responding to the forest's hostility. "You think? What gave it away? The homicidal plant life?"

Despite the gravity of our situation, I grin. Ignatius's sarcasm and his ability to find humour even in the direst circumstances are some of the things I've come to appreciate about him. "Come on," I say, gesturing forward with my chin, "let's keep moving. The Moonshade has to be around here somewhere."

We move forward, keeping in step with each other so that the barrier holds, keeping the aggressive flora at bay while Ignatius's flames light our way. The forest closes in around us, branches reaching out like claws, tapping at the barrier, but not getting through.

Yet.

"You know," Ignatius pants as we push through a particularly dense thicket, "when I signed up for this whole ‘save the world' gig, I didn't realise it would involve fighting an entire bloody forest."

I laugh, the sound strained but genuine. "What, you mean this wasn't in the brochure? I'm shocked."

As we banter, trying to keep our spirits up in the face of the forest's relentless assault, I think about everything that has happened in such a few short weeks. When we first met Adelaide, we were just a group of rebellious students, each with our own secrets and struggles. Now, we're in the heart of a malevolent forest, searching for a mystical herb to perform a ritual that could change the fate of multiple realms. It's surreal, to say the least.

"Is that it?" Ignatius asks, his voice cutting through my musings. He's pointing ahead.

I follow his gaze. In a small clearing, bathed in an ethereal silver glow that seems to emanate from the plants themselves, stands a cluster of flowers unlike anything I've ever seen. Their leaves are a deep, midnight blue, shot through with veins of silver that pulse with an inner light. The flowers are even more stunning - delicate, star-shaped blooms that seem to absorb the darkness around them, creating pockets of pure, inky blackness.

"That's got to be it."

As we approach, however, the plants begin to quiver. The silver veins in their leaves pulse faster, like a heartbeat quickening in fear or excitement. Suddenly, without warning, a cloud of glittering pollen explodes from the flowers, filling the air around us and destroying the barrier.

"Don't breathe it in!" I shout, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know it's too late. The pollen is everywhere, swirling around us, sparkling in the light of Ignatius's flames like a galaxy of tiny, malevolent stars.

I feel it settle on my skin, a cool tingle that quickly turns into a burning sensation, as if each speck of pollen is trying to burrow its way into my flesh. The world around me begins to blur and shift, reality bending in impossible ways.

"Fuck," Ignatius gasps beside me, his flames sputtering and dancing wildly as he staggers. "What's happening?"

I try to answer, but my vision is starting to swim. The forest around us seems to warp and twist, trees bending and swaying like they're made of rubber. Colours become more vivid, bleeding into each other in psychedelic patterns that hurt my eyes to look at.

"It's... it's the pollen," I manage to say, my words slurring as if I'm drunk. "Some kind of... hallucinogen."

Ignatius laughs, the sound taking on a hysterical edge. "Oh, brilliant. We're about to trip balls in a forest that wants to kill us. Perfect."

I struggle to focus, knowing we need to complete our task before the pollen's effects fully take hold. We can't afford to fail now, not when we're so close. "We need to get some of the herb," I say, taking an unsteady step towards the Moonshade.

As I reach for the plant, the world around me explodes into a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes. The trees seem to breathe, their bark rippling like water. The air becomes visible, swirling patterns of energy that I can almost touch. It's beautiful but scary as fuck. A glimpse into a reality beyond our normal perception.

I hear Ignatius gasp behind me. "Zaiah!"

I look down at myself and nearly lose my balance. My body is shifting, my usual solid form becoming translucent, revealing the swirling energies that make up my djinn essence. It's like I'm seeing myself for the first time, the true nature of my being laid bare.

"Whoa," I mutter, watching in fascination as my hand passes through a nearby branch. It's disconcerting, but freeing. I'm no longer bound by the laws of physical reality.

Ignatius isn't faring much better. His skin seems to flicker like a flame, heat radiating off him in visible waves. His eyes have become pools of molten lava, and wisps of smoke curl from his mouth as he speaks. "This is... fuck, this is intense," he says, his voice echoing strangely, as if coming from very far away.

Somehow, through the haze of hallucinations, I manage to focus on our task. The Moonshade beats in front of me, its silver veins calling out to me. I reach for it again, my fingers passing through the leaves at first before I concentrate hard enough to make them solid.

As I pluck a few sprigs of the herb, tucking them carefully into my pocket, the plants around us come alive with renewed aggression. Vines shoot out, wrapping around our legs and arms with surprising strength.

"Ignatius!" I shout, struggling against the plants' grip. The vines feel solid and insubstantial, real and unreal all at once. "We need to get out of here!"

He nods, his eyes unfocused but determined. With a roar that sounds like a volcanic eruption, he unleashes a massive wave of fire. The flames take on fantastic shapes - dragons, phoenixes, demons - as they engulf the attacking plants. The vines recoil, and we take our chance.

We run, stumbling and tripping through the forest, our perceptions still wildly distorted by the Moonshade pollen. Trees warp and twist around us, their branches reaching out like grasping hands. The ground ripples like water beneath our feet, making each step a challenge.

I'm not sure how long we run, or in what direction. Time and space seem to lose all meaning in our pollen drug-induced state. Minutes might be hours, and metres might be miles. But finally, we burst out of the forest and onto the grounds of MistHallow.

We collapse onto the grass, panting and disoriented.

"Well," Ignatius says after a moment, his voice still slightly slurred, "that was a fucking trip."

I laugh at the absurdity of our situation hitting me all at once. "Yeah, let's not do that again anytime soon."

As we lie there, waiting for the effects of the pollen to wear off, I wonder what fucked up shit the others are facing. If getting the Moonshade was this difficult, what other dangers await us?

The trip passes, leaving me with only a vague sense of something profound just beyond my grasp.

"Come on," I say, struggling to my feet. My legs feel like jelly, and the ground sways beneath me. "We need to get to the stone circle."

Ignatius nods, his movements still unsteady as he pushes himself up. "Yeah, let's hope they had an easier time than we did."

Whatever comes next, I hope we're ready for it, because if getting this herb was any indication, the ritual itself is going to push us to our limits and beyond.