Goldentracks

Summer was at its fullest, and all the plants, from the mightiest oak to the tiniest moss, were a lush, deep green. As Una followed Flynn, she watched a squirrel race up a tree, and plenty of bird and insect activity. He had led her through a couple of fields that she presumed were for grazing, given how low the grass was. But for the most part, they stuck to the forest, away from the beaten path.

They had been trekking for hours already, mostly in silence, and just as Una noticed their pace had begun to slow, Flynn stopped walking. It seemed to her that they were very deep in the forest, and the thought of being left alone there sent a chill down her spine. The light had changed from bright and crisp to mellow and ripe. It must be late afternoon, she thought. Turning her attention back to her guide, she wondered why he'd said so little on the way. He'd been very charming at first, but after they entered the thicker part of the forest, he'd only spoken to ask if she wanted to take a break, or if she remembered something new. But now his expression showed an alertness she hadn't seen before, and it intrigued her.

Flynn made slow movements toward her, and spoke in a hushed tone without looking directly at her. "The cottage is near." Extending his right arm in front of him and tilting his hand inward to face his chest, he waited. A small bird flew out of a nearby tree to land on his index finger. Its back and wings were a light olive brown. Its face, neck and breast were a bright copper-orange tinged with light grey, which was nicely accented by its crisp white belly. It sang a quick warbling song to Flynn and flew off again when he lifted his hand higher. Turning to Una, he said, "Unfortunately, the guards are already there. The good news is, only the lieutenant and a man are waiting. I know you can't see it from here, but trust me when I say it's close. To be safe, you'll have to come to it only after I've left."

"Wait! What just happened? Did you just talk to that bird?"

Flynn shrugged. "That was Sirilou. She was the one who heard your conversation with the guards earlier. She can be quite a useful friend."

Una only raised her eyebrows and stared at him. Undeterred, he continued. "Don't worry, they don't know you're here or that you're with me. Once we all leave, it'll be safe for you to enter. This cottage was where Seamus and I spent our happiest summers. This was when we were still very young and could be of no use to our father yet." He sighed. "Anyway, from this point on you'll have to be as quiet as you can. Follow me until I tell you to stop. Please stay put until the men and I are gone." Flynn looked at her, waiting for any questions, seeming confident he'd said everything that was necessary.

Una's head began to spin with questions. He really was talking to that bird just now. Does that mean everyone here can talk to animals? Is he really just going to leave me in the middle of the woods? And what if the men come back to the cottage after Flynn's gone? Her lack of response prompted him to turn away and continue moving in the direction they'd been heading in. She drew in a sharp breath. "Wait!" she called out as quietly as she could. "How will I know it's safe to go in? How will I know you're all gone?" Only half turning back and with an impish smile, Flynn said, "You won't know if it's safe to go in until I do. And I'll whistle a tune once we start heading back. If you can't hear it anymore, we will be far enough away to mean it's safe for you to come out of hiding. You should then be able to enter the cottage undetected." He moved forward again, so her other questions would have to wait.

As they made their way through thick underbrush, Una began to wonder if he was really leading her toward a cottage. More and more of the afternoon light was touching her skin again. Flynn stopped and motioned his hand for her to do the same. He then pointed to the ground. Seeing her hesitation, he pointed at her and then to the ground again.

Oh right, she thought sheepishly. He wants me to wait here. He pointed to his chest and then toward the clearing only a few paces ahead of them. She nodded. He smiled then continued on without her.

Following his path with her eyes, Una noticed a small white building on the opposite side of the clearing. As Flynn passed through the bushes marking the edge of the forest, Una examined the clearing he was now entering. It was a small meadow where grass and wildflowers grew to about his knees, or a little higher. She watched him walk up the gentle slope through the grass. He kicked up bugs and pollen with every step. It suddenly occurred to her that someone standing in front of it, if looking for her, might be able to see her too. The thought made her heart beat faster. If she didn't move, maybe they wouldn't see her. She looked at Flynn again, this time with impatience. Why was he walking so slowly? He almost looked as though he were out for a stroll in a park, as though he didn't have a care in the world. Past the halfway point, he crouched down and picked something up. He walked a few paces more and did it again. Then he continued his slow walk toward the cottage. When he was about three quarters of the way there, he threw one of the objects to his left, and the other over his right shoulder. When he finally came close to the cottage entrance, the door opened. The leader of the four men who had been chasing Flynn earlier stepped out. Una's heart skipped a beat. A sudden fear for Flynn gripped her for a moment until she remembered that he had expected men to be waiting for him there. Though still tense, she felt her panic disappear. She observed as they interacted. She couldn't hear what they were saying, not even the rhythmic sounds of speech. She noticed Flynn shoving his hands into the pockets of his breeches. Then the older man took the lead and the second man stepped out of the cottage and followed Flynn as they filed away to her left. What would happen to Flynn? Would she ever see him again?

As she shifted her weight, which was a relief after having tensely stood in one position for too long, she heard a melody. Flynn was whistling. If she could hear him this well, they were still too close. She would sit down and wait till she was absolutely certain she couldn't hear his tune anymore. Finally the tune was out of earshot, and she stood up and slowly left the cover of the forest.

Crossing the meadow, she made her way toward the cottage. It looked old but in good repair, and as Una approached, she was surprised to see it was larger than she'd expected it to be. On either side of the front door was a small paned window. The bottom ledge of each was waist high, and the top barely a few inches above her head. Feeling exposed, she turned to look back at the clearing. Apart from the slight breeze moving the grass and wildflowers, everything was calm.

She focused her attention on the cottage again. The white walls and brown thatched roof were quaint, but she still had the feeling something bad might happen is she went inside. She had given herself over to a feeling of safety while walking with Flynn and had mostly forgotten about everything else. But now that she was alone in the woods again, worry crept up on her.

In an attempt to build up her courage, Una decided to sneak a peek through a window. Shielding her eyes from the glare of the reflected sunlight, she leaned her head in close to the window and peered inside. The glass warped her view, but it was clear enough for her to identify some of the larger objects inside. It was one multi-purpose room. In the wall opposite her was a small fireplace and kitchen paraphernalia. Near the front corner to her right, she could see what looked like the edge of a table. She moved away from the window, satisfied with what she'd seen. Stepping toward the door, she wondered where the bedrooms were. She pressed the latch.

Nothing.

Why is it locked? He said I could stay here. She tried again, shoving the door as she did so, but nothing happened. It was almost evening. She had to get inside before darkness set in. Pushing down her panic, she paced a few steps this way and that. Maybe she'd missed something. Flynn had said she could go in, but he hadn't told her the door would be locked. He must have known it would be. Her frustration boiling over, she threw her hands up at the sky and growled a loudly, stomping her feet a few times for good measure.

Is this all just a joke to him? She couldn't believe she'd fallen for it! She needed to retrace her steps. But why go through all the trouble of helping her only to leave her stranded in the end? It made no sense. Walking in circles, she debated her choices. She could either go back the way she'd come and hope for the best, or break a window and enter the cottage. Neither option sounded good. With each new circle she made, the arc widened.

Finally she dropped down to the ground in frustration. "Ouch!" she cried. Rocking herself to the left, she rubbed her right butt cheek and then brushed the ground with her hand to remove the offending object. A few rocks and a small twig rolled away. She picked up the pointiest one and threw it as far away as she could.

"Wait a minute," she said, staring after it. "Didn't Flynn stop to throw rocks too?" She scrambled to her feet and ran to the middle of the meadow. Then she turned to face the cottage. Where had he stopped to pick up the rocks? Which way had he thrown them? He'd thrown the first rock to his left. The second one had been thrown behind him, over his right shoulder. She pushed the grass back in...