Edmund
"Why would you disappear like that? Do you know what could have happened to you?" I keep asking her a million and one questions, and although I want to shut up, I can't.
The questions are just pouring out of me, driven by much more than mere concern for her wellbeing. She's just standing there, listening to me go on and on, until finally the questions seem to dry out. I notice she is smiling.
"Why the heck would you be smiling?" I ask incredulously.
Before I can grab her by the hand and pull her back inside the dilapidated building, she extracts something out of her pocket. I can't tell what it is at first.
"What is it?" I ask, staring at the folded piece of paper.
"This is what you've been searching for," she tells me. "At least, I hope it is."
"You don't mean to tell me…" I start, but I'm unable to finish the sentence.
She offers me the piece of paper and I take it into my hands. I unfold it. Then, I start reading. It explains exactly where we should go to find the well.
"The old willow tree?" I say out loud trying to figure out what exactly the author meant when he or she said the old willow tree.
"It has to be some specific tree," Bianca points out.
"Mhm," I nod. "Who knows if it's still standing."
"Any ideas?" she wonders.
"I have to think," I tell her.
Then, I realize that we are out, in plain sight. Someone might see us.
"We should go back inside," I suggest. "Just in case a wandering person might see us and inform the other shifters where we are."
She agrees, so we go into the factory building. I turn on my flashlight, looking at the piece of paper in my hand. It is all stained yellow from old age, but the words are still legible. I read it again, silently, in hopes that it might jog my memory. But still, nothing happens. I can't think of any specific willow trees mentioned in any old scrolls that I've ever read.
"No matter how hard I try, I can't remember anything," I admit with a heavy sigh.
I rack my brain, and no matter how much I push it, there is nothing that rings a bell. At that point, Bianca remembers something.
"What about some old songs?" she asks, her voice lifting slightly at the last syllable.
"Old songs?" I repeat. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, songs like the ones your mom used to sing to you, or maybe your grandma," she explains. "Old lullabies that maybe talk about hidden places, trees, wells, something like that."
"I'm not– " I say, but instantly, the moment she mentions it, a song pops to mind.
Sleep my baby, close your eyes,
Momma's here, so don't you cry.
The sun is setting, the day is gone,
I see you tired, I see you yawn.
The woods all sleep, so should you,
Throughout the night, till the day is new.
If you are thirsty, in the morn,
There is a well, hidden by thorns.
A willow hides it, from plain sight,
And it will restore all your might.
But beware, it's not for common folk,
All sorts of mischief it may evoke.
Five berries you need to take, too,
And they may make you a little blue.
For now, my darling, don't you fret,
I will keep you safe from all the threats.
In the morn, you will awake,
And the water will take all your aches.
Sleep my baby, close your eyes…
I tell her the entire song, with an occasional pause to remember the exact words.
"I might have missed a line or two," I admit. "But that's more or less the song that I remember my grandmother singing to me on special nights."
"Did she tell you anything about the well?" she asks, all hopeful.
"No," I shake my head. "I didn't ask either. I thought it was a silly old superstition, nothing more."
"Shows how much you know," she chuckles.
I smile back at her. "Not like the song reveals anything."
"So, there's a willow tree," Bianca says, thinking. She paces about left and right. It's obviously helping her thinking process. "And thorns?"
"Mhm," I nod.
"A rose bush?" Bianca suggests.
"One rose bush can't hide a whole well," I corrected her.
"You're right. What else can have thorns?" she wonders.
I ponder it for a few moments, trying to remember all the bushes and plants I know that can grow really big and that have thorns.
"How about Hawthorn bare root?" Bianca suddenly remembers. She turns to me, her eyes wide and sparkling. "The song mentions berries, no? Hawthorne blooms in white flowers and red berries, no?"
I see where she is going with this.
"Yes," I confirm. "Do you know where we can find them in the woods?"
"I know where they used to be," she says. "But I haven't seen them lately."
"Can you take me there?" I ask, hope flaring up inside of me like a helium balloon, filling me up completely.
"Come," she says instead of answering my question.
She grabs me by the hand and together, we fly out of the old factory building and into the woods. I don't ask her anything. I just follow her, as she keeps holding my hand, unwilling to let go.
We are in this together. No matter how all this started, I know that we are here together, and this is how we will end this thing. Together.
We rush through the woods, through thick shrubbery and low hanging branches that tear at our clothes and threaten to poke our eyes out. It seems that the woods itself has decided to keep its secret hidden for as long as possible. But we are close. We are so close I can almost smell the old brick the well was made of.
Bianca keeps running, and I try to keep up. I know that we are in danger, being just the two of us. We should have brought someone with us, Kano at least. But I couldn't wait, and she couldn't either. There is not a single moment to be lost. We need to find it now, and then bring everyone there. Once we do that, we will be unstoppable. The shifters won't be able to touch us.
The very thought fills me with such awe that I dare not even consider it. Our clan will be protected. As for the shifters, our war will still be ongoing, but at least, this way, we shall be able to defend ourselves. The fight will be even.