The forest felt different on the way back—tense, alert, as if every branch and root sensed the stones Jake carried. The creature in his arms clung tightly to his shirt, its breathing shallow but steadier than before. Its ribbons brushed against his wrist, sending faint pulses through the child's ribbon tied there. The connection between them was fragile, but unmistakable—threads of the same fabric, frayed but not yet severed.
Jake moved quickly, guided by the ground's pulse. It grew stronger with each step, as if the forest itself were urging him forward. The trees leaned inward, their branches arching overhead like ribs. The air thickened, humming with a low vibration that made his teeth ache.
He whispered to the creature, "We're close."
The creature let out a soft hum—weak, but hopeful.
Jake stepped into the clearing.
The structure holding the child pulsed violently, its glow flickering in sharp, uneven bursts. The branches tightened and loosened in rapid succession, as if struggling to maintain their shape. The air around the dome was warping, looking like the heat rising off asphalt in the dead of summer. The straight trunks of the background trees looked bent and broken through the distortion, as if the forest were being viewed through a glass of water.
Jake's breath caught. "Hold on. I'm here."
He approached slowly, careful not to startle the structure. The child lay curled inside, her ribbons dim, her breathing shallow. Her eyes were half‑open, drifting in and out of focus. The creature in his arms whimpered softly, reaching toward her with a trembling paw.
Jake knelt beside the narrow opening and pressed his palm against the branches. They shivered, recognising him, then loosened just enough for him to slip his hand inside.
He touched her fingers.
Warm. Too warm.
She stirred weakly, her eyes flickering toward him. Her lips parted, but no sound came out—only a faint breath that trembled in the air.
Jake whispered, "I found them. All of them."
Her fingers twitched, tracing a small, broken gesture in the air.
Hurry.
Jake nodded. "I know."
He untied the first stone—the broken spiral. The moment it got within an inch of the dome, it didn't just touch the branches; it was pulled from his hand, snapping magnetically against the wood. The branches didn't just shiver; they groaned, absorbing the stone into the weave until only the glowing symbol was visible on the bark. The glow beneath the bark brightened, shifting from sickly pale to a warmer hue.
The child's breathing eased slightly.
Jake exhaled shakily. "Okay… okay. It's working."
He pressed the second stone—the jagged intersecting lines—against the branches. The structure pulsed, absorbing the stone's warmth. The ground beneath him vibrated, the broken rhythm smoothing just a fraction.
The creature in his arms hummed softly, its ribbons brightening.
Jake reached for the third stone—the cracked circle. It felt fragile, as if it might crumble in his hands. He pressed it gently against the structure.
The branches tightened sharply, then loosened. The glow beneath the bark flickered violently, then steadied into a soft, warm pulse.
The child's eyes opened wider.
Jake felt tears sting his eyes. "You're coming back."
He reached for the final stone—the smallest, the smoothest, the one that had felt weightless in his hands. The moment he touched it, the ground's pulse steadied beneath him, aligning with the faint rhythm of the child's ribbon.
He pressed the stone against the structure.
The world shifted.
The glow beneath the bark flared, flooding the clearing with warm, golden light. The branches loosened, unwinding like threads unravelling from a tightly woven cloth. The air vibrated with a low hum—steady, ancient, familiar.
The creature in his arms lifted its head, ribbons glowing brightly.
The child's fingers tightened around Jake's.
A sound scraped out of her throat—dry and clicking, like someone trying to speak after days in a desert. Her voice didn't sound like it belonged to a human vocal cord; it sounded like leaves rustling together to form the shape of words: 'You... came... back.
Jake's breath broke. "Always."
The structure continued to unwind, branches peeling away like petals. The glow dimmed slowly, settling into the ground like embers sinking into soil. The air cleared, the distortions fading.
The child lay before him, no longer trapped, but weak—so weak. Her ribbons glowed faintly, threads reconnecting, weaving themselves back into patterns that had been broken.
Jake lifted her gently, cradling her against his chest. She was warm, trembling, but alive.
The creature curled beside her, pressing its small body against hers. Their ribbons intertwined, pulsing in synchrony.
Jake whispered, "What happened to you?"
The child's eyes drifted toward the forest. Her fingers lifted weakly, tracing a gesture in the air—slow, deliberate, heavy with meaning.
Jake recognised it.
'Something came,' her hands signed, the movement so frantic her fingers blurred. She traced a final, jagged gesture that seemed to slice through the air, mimicking a sudden, violent snap. Her voice was a cracked whisper against his ear: 'It broke the rhythm... It was not from here.
The creature whimpered softly, pressing closer.
Jake felt a chill crawl up his spine. "Not from here… meaning not from the forest?"
She shook her head again.
Her fingers traced one final gesture.
It's still here.
The forest around them seemed to tighten, branches creaking softly. The ground's pulse—steady for a moment—faltered again, slipping into an uneven rhythm.
Jake held her closer. "We'll stop it. Whatever it is."
Her eyes closed, but her fingers tightened around his shirt.
The creature hummed softly, its ribbons glowing in steady waves.
Jake grunted as he stood, his thighs burning from kneeling so long on the hard-packed earth. He adjusted his grip, shifting the child higher against his chest while the creature scrambled to balance on his shoulder. Every muscle was screaming, but the adrenaline was a cold fire in his veins. The forest watched him—silent, waiting, holding its breath.
He whispered, "Show me where it went."
The ground pulsed beneath his feet—weak, broken, but pointing in a direction.
North.
Into the deepest part of the forest.
Jake tightened his grip on the child and stepped forward.
The forest shifted around him.
The hunt had begun.