Page 4 of Far From Sherwood Forest
The only thing that hasn’t calmed is my racing heart. Blood rushes in my ears as I try to make sense of what just happened. The mysterious figure is gone. The trees look different somehow. The stars glitter against the velvety night sky that was bright with daylight moments before.
John and I share a look, and I can tell he’s as lost and confused as I am.
With the deafening hush that’s suddenly fallen over the forest, the thudding of hooves slices through like a knife. Even so, it’s not enough to snap me out of this bewilderment that’s shocked my system.
“Robin! We have to ride!”
Finally, I snap my head around to see the Sheriff once more on the chase.
Apparently, he’s recovered quicker than we have.
We don’t have a choice but to focus on getting away first. As soon as we lose him for good, then we can worry about what the hell that was.
But that doesn’t happen.
The trees break much sooner than they should. The edge of Sherwood Forest is miles away, so it makes no sense when we come out the other side to an open field and open skies stretching far ahead—to what seems like the ends of the earth. The full moon shines bright like a brilliant beacon in the sky, giving the expanse of grassy ground a silver hue.
It’s allwrong.
However, we keep riding because the Sheriff is right behind us,tooclose. So close that when we have to suddenly pull on the reins to stop our horses, his nearly crashes into us, and we barely manage not to go over the sudden drop ahead. It’s not technically a cliff, but the hill down is rocky and steep, too steep for the horses.
But that’s not what has us all freezing and going silent, forgetting all about the chase and everything that brought us to this moment. To this sight that I don’t think any of us can explain.
Far below in the distance is a city that’s ablaze with lights. Not like the flickering glow of flames, but instead steady beams of yellow. Some of them even move, gliding smoothly through all the others like constant fireflies. It’s not the size of the city that’s unlike any we’ve ever seen—maybe twice that of Nottingham. It’s the lights, the size of the strange buildings we can sort of make out beneath the glow of the moon.
It’s worlds apart from anything we know.
The chase that had seemed so intense and loud moments before has vanished in the wake of confusion and a suffocating quiet. Even with the Sheriff on his horse right beside us, we’re all too shocked to acknowledge each other’s presence. A heavy silence has settled over us as we stare down at the mysterious city until even time doesn’t make sense. I have no idea how much passes before one of us finds our voice.
“What on God’s earth—”
Henry’s words are cut off when John jumps into action, swinging the bag of silver and gold through the air, hitting the Sheriff in the head for the second time. Henry grunts as he falls off his horse, having had even less warning to defend himself this time. He collapses in a heap on the ground, eyes closed, unconscious.
John pulls his sword from its scabbard.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my brain feeling sluggish, stuffed full with more questions than I’ve ever had before.
“We should kill him.”
I peer down at Henry’s still form. Something about that just doesn’t feel right. Not only do I not like the idea of killing an unconscious man, but…in this strange place?
“We can’t kill him, John. We don’t even know what the hell is going on.”
“I think that’s a mistake, Robin.”
I look from John to Henry again and sigh. “Then it’s a mistake.”
John huffs as he puts his sword away. “Fine. But we need to get out of here.”
As we ride away, leaving the Sheriff behind, there’s one question that’s loudest in my mind.
Where ishere?
Five years later.
My boots dig into the soft earth on top of the hill that overlooks a large portion of the state park. It stretches out below in a blur of rust, gold, and fading green. The trees are halfway into their transformation, like they can’t decide whether to let go or hold on just a little longer.
I understand that feeling all too well.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4 (reading here)
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121