Chapter 9 Observation Within Woods
My breath hitched. It was Oliver, walking beside me through Gravenmoor Woods. Our class was out for an assignment that afternoon, sunlight shimmering through the canopy like liquid gold.
“Yeah… I’m alright,” I said, my voice low. Our shoes crunched against the carpet of dry leaves.
“Your mood doesn’t say so,” Oliver pressed gently.
“I just want to be calm… today,” I replied.
The teachers, Mr. Roger and Professor Ashcroft, halted up ahead. The students gathered in clusters, murmuring, while Mr. Roger climbed a small mound of gnarled roots. Professor Ashcroft stood beside him, his arms crossed, his gaze as sharp as the autumn air.
“You’ll work in groups,” Mr. Roger announced, adjusting his glasses. “Find two elements of nature… the trees and the wind, rivers and stones, leaves and rain and write a short dialogue between them. I want a voice, not facts. Make me hear them speak.”
“You have one hour,” Professor Ashcroft added curtly.
A soft groan rippled through the students as they paired up, scattering into the woods.
Then…
“A word, Miss Lambert.”
Professor Ashcroft’s firm voice struck like a bell in my chest. I turned with a forced grin.
“Professor… the apology, I…”
He raised a hand, cutting me off. “How are you coping with the manuscript? Have you translated the first page yet?”
“I… uh… I’m working on it,” I faltered.
“I was hoping Julian had helped you already. That would make things faster.”
“Julian? I’m not working with Julian. I’m working with him.” I gestured toward Oliver, waiting for me beneath an oak.
Ashcroft’s mouth twitched not quite a smile, not quite a frown. “Oliver Willies Freeman?”
I nodded once.
“I don’t trust his intelligence the same way I trust Julian’s. Just be certain he can keep it secret.”
“Yes, he promised,” I said, trying to steady my voice.
“Very well. But be careful with him.”
Be careful with him?
Before I could ask what he meant, the professor turned and strode away, his coat whispering through the leaves.
Oliver approached, his expression light as always, clearly unaware of what Ashcroft had just said.
“So,” he began cheerfully, “we’re making nature talk.”
“Yeah.” I crossed my arms, eyeing him. “Oliver… Do you have some kind of issue with Professor Ashcroft?”
He tilted his head. “Why?”
“I just thought…”
“Is this group full?”
The voice came from behind us. We turned, it was Adrian.
“Ye…” I began, but before I could finish, Naomi came hurrying over, clutching his arm possessively.
“I’m not in any group yet,” she said brightly, grinning at him.
Adrian gently removed his arm, his tone cool. “I’m already in a group.”
Naomi’s smile faded instantly.
I stepped forward, attempting to be polite. “You can join us, if you’d like.”
She arched a perfect brow. “And you are?”
“Lexie Lam…”
“Don’t worry,” she interrupted, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll group with Kaitlyn.”
She turned sharply and left.
“Rude,” I muttered.
“That’s how student council members behave here,” Oliver said. “Naomi’s the principal’s daughter and vice president.”
“Lovely,” I sighed. “Where should we settle? Everywhere looks full.”
Adrian’s low voice cut in. “If you prefer peace and quiet… come with me.”
Before I could respond, a soft voice chimed in, “Hey guys, mind if I join?”
We turned. A girl with platinum-blonde hair and braces smiled shyly.
“Sure,” I said.
“I’m Sally Hansen, by the way.”
Adrian led us further into the woods, away from the chatter of the other groups. The silence there was thick, almost sacred. Sunlight fell in fractured lines through the branches; the air smelled faintly of damp bark and moss.
“This spot’s perfect,” Adrian said.
Sally sat beneath a broad oak and sighed. “You guys go ahead. I need just a moment of air.” She closed her eyes, resting her head against the bark.
Oliver exhaled under his breath, “Another student council member.” Then he brightened. “Alright, let’s get started. I call it the river. You can be the…”
“The leaf?” I guessed.
“Exactly. You drift; I rush. Perfect dynamic.”
I rolled my eyes, smiling faintly. “You always pick the dramatic roles.”
“And you always pick the quiet ones. Balance,” he said, grinning.
We sat on the damp grass, notebooks open. Oliver tapped his pen against the page.
“Okay, let’s start. The river says…”
He scribbled: ‘You float like you’ve nowhere to be, Leaf.’
I leaned closer, hair falling over my face. “Hmm.” Then I wrote beneath it:
‘And you rush like you’re afraid to stop.’
He paused, glancing at me. “That’s good. Really good.”
“Don’t flatter me, Oliver.”
“I’m serious. You sound like…” he hesitated, searching for the right word “...someone who’s seen things end too soon.”
Something inside me trembled like I’d forgotten something important.
I turned suddenly. “Where’s Adrian?”
Oliver followed my gaze. “And… Sally?”
A sharp chill crept through my stomach. “We need to find them.”
“But the hour’s almost over…”
“We can still find them. You go right and look for Sally; I’ll go left to find Adrian.”
Before he could object, I was already running deeper into the woods.
I called his name, “Adrian!”
And twice, but no answer came.
The air thickened, heavy with the scent of pine and damp soil.
I stopped beside a tall tree, breathless. Placing my hand on its rough trunk, I whispered, “I need some water.”
Then I heard a soft, creeping sound.
Something was moving. Crawling.
I turned my head slowly… and saw ivy tendrils shifting up the bark, writhing as if alive. My hand froze.
I gasped, struggling, but it held fast, its green veins tightening.
“Let me go!” I cried, pulling hard, until the ivy suddenly snapped free, flinging me backward.
I hit the ground with a thud, pain sparking through my spine. For a moment, everything blurred. Then I saw it.
Through the haze of light and trees stood a small, abandoned green house, its paint peeling, its windows fogged with time.
My breath stilled.
It was the same house Adrian had painted, the same one from my dream.