First Light (Call of the Forest Realm, #1)

  First Light

  Call of the Forest Realm, Book I

  Beryl Kelland

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 Beryl Kelland

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Coming Soon!

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  As the waning sun sunk low on the horizon, the swaying branches of the forest were strangely silent. The shadowy night descended over the sky and the deep purples and blues choked out the last dying rays of sunlight. Clouds rolled in from the west, pulling with them a sense of urgency, like the hurried number of seconds between the roll of thunder and the bright strike of lightning. The high shadow of the mountains lay painted in sunset colors. The night descended quickly and a sharp crack of thunder shook the trees. A chill wind howled through the forest and the dark, fluttering shadows of a murder of black crows made their shapes known as they beat their wings across the dark, rumbling sky.

  Briony Alder sat perched in the branches of an ancient oak tree, swinging her legs back and forth as she watched the approaching storm roll in from the mountains. She tucked her pale hair behind her ear and as always, her gaze drifted to the darkened forest, and to the shadowy peaks beyond. The urge to feel the damp carpet of moss beneath her bare feet and the late autumn leaves as she brushed her fingers across them, was as strong as it ever was. The lights from the house flickered on behind her and she turned her attention away from the trees.

  “Down from the tree,” a familiar voice called from the back steps of the old Victorian, echoing across the sloping backyard. Briony smiled. Her grandmother was home from the bakery.

  “Coming!” Briony called back.

  It was growing cooler and her thin sweater did nothing to keep the chill at bay. It was cold, yet something about the electricity of a storm always called her out of doors. She craved the sunshine and the warmth, though something deep inside of her ached for the darkness and the chaos and she had always feared that part of herself, that voice she kept hidden away deep inside.

  She ran across the yard, dodging hanging Halloween decorations and ducking inside the creaking door. Lightning flashed behind her and she shut the door, her hazel eyes adjusting to the low light. The smell of coffee and something sweet hung in the air. The kitchen was warmly lit with flickering candles and her grandmother sat at the weathered yellow table, a steaming mug cradled in her hands. The cracked green cabinets behind her and the vintage, clunking fridge brought a recognizable warmth to Briony’s chest. Her grandmother liked to keep the lighting minimal here, at the close of the day, so that the stretching view of the forest was unhindered by the harsh artificial lights. Her face was soft and familiar, weathered and lovely in the dancing candlelight.

  “Cinnamon rolls?” Briony asked, grinning at the sage green carry-out box on the counter.

  “Seems like a night for coffee and sweets.” Yvette Alder nodded. Her hair was long and shimmered soft silver in the low light.

  Briony slid a steaming roll onto a plate and poured herself a cup of coffee, making sure to pour in the sugar and creamer before the coffee, just like her gran always had. She wrapped her hands around the mug, letting the warmth wash over her. The cinnamon roll was sweet and warm, chasing away the cloudy dark in Briony’s mind. The forest lingered there, calling out to her like some lost memory. She shook away the longing and sighed.

  When her adoptive parents had found her, lying quietly at the edge of the forest in a strange webbing of blankets, she hadn’t been crying. She had stared up at the shadowed, shifting trees, quiet as a ghost. They called her their own and never looked back. Briony was fortunate enough to have them waiting in her memories like a warm blanket, soft and comforting. She could only remember bits and pieces. Little oddities, like the scent of her mother’s perfume or the glint of her father’s glasses, helped her to keep them close in her mind. The old Victorian house that her gran lived in and that her father had grown up in, had been there for as long as they could remember, standing sentinel at the edge of the dark forest. Lightning struck her parent’s car when she was just two, leaving little Briony in the care of her adoptive grandmother. As a child, she was drawn to the trees as if she belonged there. Yvette would find her at the edge of the woodland, just standing quietly as if she were waiting for something or someone. It scared her grandmother and she kept her away from the forest for many years. But still, Briony longed for it.

  In school, after her legs grew long and slender and what baby fat had been left on her from childhood fell away into sharp, high cheekbones and a straight, aristocratic nose, her friends were few and far between. She had never managed to fit in with her classmates, or to connect with them in meaningful ways. She was too odd-looking with her pale skin and her big, limpid hazel eyes. She remembered fluttering around from hobby to hobby, unable to find anything that would keep her grounded and steady. She always felt as if she didn’t belong, like she would never belong; as if one day she would simply float away, caught on the edge of the swirling wind like an autumn leaf.

  As she grew older, the urge to roam the forest grew less distinct and she was able to push it to the back of her mind most days. Though on evenings like this one, when the veil of the coming storm seemed to breathe life into the forest, she found it difficult to resist. She often wondered where she had come from and whether her astronomer mother and her history-professor father had ever considered the same. Her gran explained to little Briony when she came to her looking for answers, that the police could find no evidence of anyone else in or out of the forest. Only the silent, swaddled baby watching the trees overhead. Over time, Briony realized it didn’t particularly matter who had abandoned her, only who had taken her in.

  “What’s on your mind, my love?”

  Briony jumped a little at her grandmother’s voice. “Gran,” she said, sipping at her coffee, “do you ever feel like there’s somewhere else you’re supposed to be? Someone else?”

  For a moment, Yvette just gazed at her, and there was something behind her dark eyes that told a story. Though when she answered, it was with a light laugh. “I’m supposed to be in Tuscany, my love, married to a wealthy vintner and surrounded by horses and rolling green hills.”

  “Well,” Briony said, shaking off the strange feeling that something wasn’t right, “do the miniature ponies at the neighbor’s farm count?”

  Yvette laughed merrily and the last of the lingering shadows were chased from the room. There was a knock at the door and Briony raised her eyebrow. Her gran shrugged and Briony ran to answer it.

  “Ava.” Briony grinned. Her only friend stood outside the door, holding an umbrella. Her dark hair was in a long braid and her arms were full of brown paper bags smelling of hot food.

  “I brought takeout,” Ava said brightly, shaking off her umbrella, and Briony stepped aside to let her into the darkened foyer.

  “Chinese?”

  “Is there anything better?” Ava snorted, folding her plaid umbrella and tucking it into the raincoat nook.

  Thunder shook the house and Briony caught sight of the sunroom
to their left, where she could see the clouds settled heavy and dark over the forest. For a moment she stood transfixed, her eyes on the edge of the trees, where twisting fog curled ghostly fingers out of the darkness. Slanted rain lashed against the window-covered room and Briony imagined running through the downpour and finding shelter in the trees, like coming home.

  “Uh...Briony?” Ava’s worried voice made her jump and she turned around, shaking herself.

  “Huh?”

  “See something out there?” Ava asked, turning to look out into the stormy night as well. Her house was two miles down the road and Briony could see her blue Bronco outside, parked in her usual spot. Ava had spent most of her nineteen years at the Alder household, with her best friend. There was no reason to think she would stop now.

  “No,” Briony told her, pulling her into the candlelit kitchen. “There’s nothing.”

  Chapter Two

  Inside the kitchen, Yvette was still sitting at the table. Her empty plate sat in front of her and she sipped at her coffee, watching the storm outside. Ava opened her mouth to say hello and Briony’s grandmother said, without turning, “Hello, Ava.”

  “How does she do that?” Ava whispered, sounding awed.

  “You shuffle your feet, darling,” Yvette told her, smirking as she looked back at them both.

  “I don’t—”

  “You do,” Briony laughed, helping her pull the boxes of takeout from the bags.

  “How is your mother doing?”

  “She’s good. She’s throwing a belated Halloween party tomorrow if you guys want to come over,” Ava told her, piling noodles onto a plate. Briony nodded, smiling as she filled her own plate.

  “And your grandfather’s miniature ponies?” Yvette asked, winking at Briony. “How are they?”

  “They’re...good?” Ava said, looking at Briony’s grandmother as if she had gone insane in the span of a few minutes. Briony snickered.

  “You want lo mein, Gran?” Briony asked, gesturing at her plate.

  Yvette shook her head. “I think I’ll go read in the parlor. You girls have fun.”

  “See you later, Missus A!” Ava shouted after her as she left with her coffee.

  “It’s Gran, Ava,” she called back, making Ava grin pleasedly.

  Ava and Briony sat at the table in the soft light, their forks clattering against their plates. The storm outside showed no sign of dissipating and the clouds seemed to gather even heavier over the house as lightning cut across the sky and thunder tore through the air.

  “I miss the sun,” Briony sighed, looking out at the storm.

  Ava popped a dumpling in her mouth, snorting, “It’ll be back someday.”

  “Ava,” Briony said, pushing away her plate. She looked out of the window. “Have you ever been inside the forest?”

  “Bri,” Ava said, touching her hand across the table, “are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, I just...”

  “I thought you were over all of that forest stuff,” Ava said, taking a sip of her water. Briony stared blankly at her. “Don’t you remember? You used to obsess over it when we were kids, it’s all I would hear about.”

  “I don’t know,” Briony sighed. “It just feels like I should be there, you know?”

  Ava raised an eyebrow, giving her an are-you-mental? look. “No, Bri, I don’t have some weird longing to run barefoot through a dark forest at midnight.”

  “Midnight?”

  Ava stood, clearing the plates. “You don’t remember? You were always obsessed with midnight. At midnight, they’ll take me,” she imitated. “At midnight, I’m gone.”

  Briony felt a chill shudder through her at Ava’s words. But when the longing resurfaced once more, she pushed it away along with the nausea that followed. On the old sofa in the sitting room, Yvette was curled up watching an old horror movie. Ava and Briony plopped down on the well-worn cushions too and while her friend watched the movie interestedly, Briony felt the window behind her like a cold hand down her back. Rain pattered the glass, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up and she slid further down the couch, shrinking away from the sound. Her grandmother watched her, looking concerned. Briony tried to give her a reassuring smile. Gran had to open the bakery early tomorrow and Briony didn’t want her staying up worried over her granddaughter.

  As the night grew long, Yvette stood from the couch and made her way to bed, blowing out candles as she went. “Goodnight, my loves.”

  “Goodnight, Gran,” Ava said, smiling at her over the arm of the couch.

  “Goodnight,” Briony said quietly.

  In the gloom of the dimly lit hallway, Yvette almost seemed mournful. But the mood disappeared quickly when she smiled, waving as she closed the door to her room.

  After two more movies, Ava had fallen asleep on the edge of the couch and Briony let her eyes close for a moment while Frankenstein’s monster droned on over the flood of rain outside. With a melancholy clang, the grandfather clock in the hallway struck the hour. Twelve. Thunder crashed and a flash of lightning lit the dim house. Without pause, a loud knocking began at the door, ominous and ill-fated.

  Chapter Three

  Ava jumped from the couch out of a dead sleep and Briony seized her by the arm. “No, stay.”

  “What? The door...” Ava mumbled, sleep still coloring her words.

  “Don’t answer it,” Briony whispered. Her heart thumped in her chest and her hands shook. Whatever was beyond the door would change everything.

  “It’s fine,” Ava brushed her off, stretching as she walked to the door.

  Briony jumped when the knocking began again, and she shivered as the rain thrummed down harder against the house. Briony stood from the couch, slipping across the cold floorboards to where Ava stood in front of the locked door. Lightning parted the sky and a tall, lithe, shadowy figure stood outside the stained glass of the entryway.

  “Ava, don’t—” Briony gasped, but the door was already swinging open and she could feel the chill of the rain as the wind swept the frigid mist of water across the threshold. Ava stumbled back, her mouth open.

  “Go get Gran,” Briony whispered, her body going cold.

  Almost reaching the top of the door frame, the man was covered in dark clothing and what looked like strange, shiny leather. There was the hood of a cloak down over his eyes and Briony could only see the hard line of his mouth and the sharp cut of his jaw beneath the shadow that covered his features. He held one pale arm against the door so that even if she had thought about closing it, the action would be impossible. Ava spun around, slipping in her socks on the hardwood floor as she ran towards Yvette’s bedroom.

  Briony stood frozen, her eyes on the tall man in the doorway.

  At midnight, they’ll take me. At midnight, I’m gone.

  “What do you want? What are you doing here?”

  The man took one step inside at her words and Briony stumbled backward. She looked around for something, anything to defend herself. Ava’s plaid umbrella rested in the nook like a lifeline and Briony snatched it up, holding it in front of her like a sword. Without really thinking, she swung it at him, and just as quickly, he grabbed the end, pushing it away from him as if she were a fly buzzing annoyingly around him. He scanned the room, his face still hidden.

  “They’re here, they’re already inside the house,” he said. His voice was like the rumble of thunder outside, rough and low.

  “Look—”

  Before she could stop him, he stalked across the foyer and there was the glint of a blade in his hand. Briony bit her tongue and clutched her useless makeshift weapon in her hand, hoping that Ava or Yvette had called the police. Though their house was so far from the city that it would be a miracle if anyone showed up before this madman murdered them all. If she had stopped to think for a second, she would have realized how strange it was that she had known he was coming for her. But at the moment she was preoccupied with trying to make him leave without doing them any bodily harm. He se
emed to have no interest in the occupants of the house, however, and seemed more interested in stalking through the drafty rooms, looking into every shadow and hidden alcove.

  Suddenly, Ava and Yvette came running out of the darkened hallway behind her, the receiver of the old, corded, wall phone clutched in her gran’s hand. “I’ve called 9-1-1!” she shouted, sounding harried.

  Ava fell back against the wall and Yvette reached for Briony as the man pushed the hood back from his face. Lightning lit the dim sitting room and the corded receiver fell from Yvette’s hand. The bright flare of light brought their intruder’s features into stark relief. Long dark hair hung on either side of a sharp, pale face. Bright green eyes were framed with thick, dark lashes above a long, straight nose. His mouth was set in a hard line, turned down in displeasure as his gaze fixed on the cold, empty fireplace in the corner of the long room. Rain lashed against the windows and Briony felt chilled to the bone.

  “The cops are on their way—” Ava started from where she was, gripping the back of Briony’s sweater, her voice shaking.

  The man cut her off, shushing her. He put a long finger to his mouth and in the stormy silence, Briony heard a crumbling from the fireplace. She clutched her umbrella, squeezing the handle until her fingers ached. Something mossy green, a creature, flew from the sooty bricks and tumbled across the hardwood, growling, and hissing. It rose up on its back legs, easily five feet tall. It looked around the room with little black eyes and then seemed to smell the air, opening its mouth and revealing rows of strange, curved teeth. Slowly, one mossy, clawed hand lifted and pointed in their direction.

  Ava screamed and fell backward. Briony pushed her grandmother towards Ava and then yelled, tossing away the umbrella and drawing the creature’s attention as it continued sniffing the air. Somehow, something within Briony told her that the thing meant to kill her—that it was there for her. The thing turned and quickly lunged for her, growling. Briony let out a shriek and ducked, ready to feel the sting of sharp claws but it never came. There was a thud and she looked up. The tall man’s knife was buried in the creature, who flailed for a moment before going still. Its body seemed to rot into the floorboards, burning a crumbling hole in the hardwood.