Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was hard, at first, to see the transition between the rice paddies and the forest. Green on green, they blended together. But the foliage rose higher and higher, until it was impossible to imagine anything like rice living among the improbable spires of the trees of Hutan Laut.

“I dare you both to walk past the drop.”

Eka and Myra stopped skipping simultaneously, their ropes making a sharp cracking sound against their legs. The girls had been playing in the space between the last of the paddies and the lappings of the forest, a small but distinct gap. They looked at Susanti with confused, irritated expressions, then towards the forest. It rose and rose in the distance, until the sky became the smoky purple of distant trees.

Myra looked back at Susanti, glared, then sighed. “My mama won’t even let me go into the shallows. I wouldn’t last more than a hundred paces.”

Susanti smiled, her face triumphant, but Eka frowned. She looked at Myra, her eyes calculating.

“We could do it. Together. I’ve almost been that far anyway, following my brother hunting. But,” and she looked back at Susanti with a wicked grin. “You would have to come with us to make sure we followed through with the bet.”

Eka and Myra had been competing against Susanti for over a year with increasingly dangerous dares. Their last dare had resulted in Susanti not being able to sit for a week, and the bitter twist in her smile told them she remembered.

“No, no, it’s fine,” she replied hastily, and Myra smiled. But Susanti recovered swiftly, and gave a sharp grin back. "Just bring me back a lantern-cat, to show me you were there.”

There was a pause. “Done,” Eka said before Myra had time to protest, and stalked off. Myra took the time to give Susanti another glare before running after her. She waited until they were out of earshot before catching hold of Eka’s arm.

“Eka!” she hissed. “A lantern-cat is right near the middle of the forest. It will take us weeks to find one of those!”

“I know, silly,” Eka whispered back, looking behind her at Susanti, who had run off to tell her cronies. They had been playing at the edge of the village, but the two friends were now walking quickly through it to Eka’s house. “I just wanted to get away from her. We’ll bring back something from just past the drop, and she’ll still be amazed.”

Myra nodded, and concentrated on matching Eka’s pace. Though her face was still worried, her eyes had begun to shine in a way that meant adventure. Eka was actually a little worried to see it. Myra had led a very sheltered life, and had a knack for getting into trouble.

They walked past pens of cowseals and walrus-pigs, past clucking chunas and past a panting Labrador. When they reached her porch they toed off their sandals next to the long, dusty line.

Eka’s papa was next to the stove stirring some rice, while her mama mended a shawl. They were humming an old folk song to their youngest, who was seated in the corner mending a birding-net. They sung out of tune, but in harmony with each other.

“Hello Eka and Myra!” they chorused, and Myra laughed. Eka blushed at their enthusiasm.

“Smells good, Pa,” she said, slumping down on the only free seat. Her ma poked her with an elbow and looked meaningfully at Myra, who was leaning against the doorframe. Both of them caught the glance and rolled their eyes, grinning at each other. They had been friends for all of their fourteen years, and Myra was no more a guest in that house than Eka.

“Is it okay if I stay here tonight, Ibu? Eka and I will be working with my ma tomorrow for Andrei’s wedding, and we wanted to set out together.”

Myra was twisting her hands together, an obvious tell, but Eka’s pa just smiled. He didn’t have any use for the girls tomorrow, and didn’t mind them taking a day for themselves.

Eka caught his eye and gave him a grateful look. Then, as subtly as she could, she asked, “Can you tell us another story of the Indian Forest? You haven’t told us one in ages!” Her voice was wheedling, but she knew her pa wouldn’t be able to resist telling a story.

He laughed, predictably. “Would you like me to go from the beginning?”

“Yes please!” chorused both the girls, with the addition of Omar from the corner. Ma pretended to wince at the noise, covering her ears, but laughed along with her husband.

Her pa rubbed his hands together. “Okay then. Well, to start off, every man who says he has gone to the bottom of the forest is lying. The forest is endless; the trees keep getting taller. The only way to travel through it is to stick to the outskirts, or 'the shallows.’”

“We know this Pa,” interrupted Eka. “Talk about the Great White Tiger.”

“I have to set the story up!” he said, and Eka grinned at the well worn words. If her father’s stories had been a book, then the pages would be scribbled over and underlined, with each page folded over.

They talked a long time before their ma scolded them to bed, smiling in an affectionate, weary kind of way. Myra waited until she heard their breathing soften into sleep before she spoke.

“Do you think we’ll come across a great white?”

Eka snorted quietly. “Nah. We’re just going into the shallows. And I would take everything pa says with a grain of salt. I swear when he told that story just last week the beast was half the size. We’re just going into the shallows.”

The house dripped and whispered as the two girls floated on the edge of their anticipation, then swam into sleep.

Chapter Text

The three girls stood at the shore of the forest, their breath steaming in the cold. Eka was shivering, but Myra was still, staring dead ahead like a bottle-nose on a scent. Susanti snorted impatiently.

“Can you guys just go already? It’s freezing.”

She stamped her feet, but they ignored her. They were looking up, up at the light aqua of the shallow trees that changed abruptly into the teal of the deep woods. The dawn light reached just past the edge, shadowing the pines, and making the divide look even more alien. They could hear schools of birds starting to wake.

Both Eka and Myra took a breath at the same time, and plunged into the foliage, struggling to get their legs past the ankle length branches. Susanti tried to get their attention again, but they pretended not to hear. They were able to go far quickly, since the trees didn’t reach higher than their shoulder until they’d walked a hundred steps. Once the trees brushed their hair, they stopped. They could see the beautiful homes made by clown-squirrels among the trees, and knew not to touch them.

“Are we actually going to do this?” said Eka, speaking as if Susanti could still hear them.

Myra looked at her and shrugged, shoulders tight. “We’ve made it this far.”

They stepped through the trees. The trees became thicker and thicker, and the trunks more unyielding. It was difficult to see with so many of the branches directly at eye level, making an interlocking web.

Then, abruptly, they were through, and with the branches now too high to block the view, they could see a wide stretch of tree trunks. Myra let out a breath that became a scream as a winged fish flew past her face, and Eka laughed.

“Thank goodness we’re out of that, hey?”

Myra laughed as well, and they began walking again, their pace faster and less cautious. They looked up in wonder at the bright green ceiling, and at the faint glimmer of blue just beyond.

They walked for long enough that the packs on their backs began to feel inordinately heavy, and their gazes were slowly lowering. Both snapped up again quickly, though, when they heard a soft meow.

“What was that?”

“A kitten?”

Myra rolled her eyes; obviously it wasn’t a kitten. This was the forest.

“Let’s go check it out,” Eka said.

Myra gasped. “What? We can’t do that! What if it’s a great white?”

“Pretty tiny great white,” Eka said with a laugh. “Besides, it’s not like they’re smart enough to plan a trap.”

She started walking towards the sound. Myra followed, more out of curiosity than because she believed her friend. Eka could be reckless, and was ruthlessly practical. If she couldn’t picture something as dangerous, then she acted as if it wasn’t going to be.

They had walked only a minute when Myra wrinkled her nose.

“What is that smell?”

"Gods above, what is that?”

They looked at each other then, both suddenly recognising the scent of bad meat. It was Myra who first noticed the still, striped figure ahead of them.

“Look,” she said, pointing. Her mouth was downturned.

Eka grimaced. “Oh.”

Myra started towards it, and Eka only frowned more before following. As they came nearer, the smell became almost unbearable, and they both gagged at the putrid fumes. The beast had been enormous, almost 15 feet, but its white belly had been ripped open by the feeding carrion fish.

They did not move any closer.

“I always thought it was heroic. When Pa told us about fighting great whites, I always thought…” Eka trailed off, looking sick. “But this. This is horrible.”

Myra’s face was pale, but she did not cry like Eka wanted to. When she spoke, her voice was calm. “It’s been dead for days. So what made the noise we heard?”

They looked around, then split up and began walking around the trees, searching the ground. Eka walked back the way they had come. She was watching her feet, but that didn’t prevent her from almost twisting her ankle when the earth opened up beneath her. She gasped as one of her legs went straight into the hole, and only just managed to keep the rest of her body from following after it. She sat up gingerly and tested her leg; when it held, she bent down to examine the dark entry. It was big enough that she was lucky to have not fallen down it completely. Big enough, she thought with a sigh, to fit one flexible great white.

She got down on her hands and knees, and crawled in. Crawled and slid until the tunnel opened up wider, into a cave-like den. She heard another mewl, louder than before. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could just make out the possibility of a half-starved tiger pup. It mewled as she squinted in its direction, and shakily stood, crouching in the corner defensively.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” she said softly, holding her hand out as she did to the strays around the village. She inched awkwardly closer, until she could touch it. Eka patted it for a minute, then reached into her pack and grabbed some of the dried meat she’d packed. It was a fair amount, and Eka hoped it would last.

“Tigers usually eat walrus-hogs right? You should be fine with seal."

The pup snuffled at the meat for a second, then tore into it with the ferocity reserved for the starving. It started slowing down after a few minutes, when its little belly was stretched and round. Eka put the remaining food back in her pack. She picked him up, and started crawling back out the den. Despite her movement, he had fallen asleep before she reached the sunlight, his breath rumbling against her chest.

Eka emerged, blinking at the dim light of the forest, and was finally able to hear Myra.

“Eka! Eka, where are you?” she could hear faintly. Eka sighed and started jogging in her direction, trying not to jostle her charge.

She ran for a few minutes before catching a glimpse of her. “Myra, I’m right here, you can stop yelling," she called, and Myra spun around, looking relieved.

“Thank goodness, where were y… oh. Oh! Oh my goodness. That’s a tiger. Oh my gods, it’s so cute.”

She rushed over to Eka and rubbed her face on the pup’s coat. “Are we gonna keep it? Is it a girl or boy? What’s its name?”

“I don’t know. He’s a boy, and you can name him if you want.”

“Little White,” she replied promptly.

Eka raised her eyebrows, grinned, then sighed. “Fine. But we should get going soon, otherwise we won’t get to the drop and back before nightfall.”

Myra looked up, squinting, at the slivers of blue and grey between the rippling leaves. “How can you even tell? Never mind, I don’t care.”

“Let’s go then,” Eka said.

“Can I hold Little White?”

“No.”

Chapter Text

Myra had been hearing howls for a some time, but had discounted them as the wind. The only time she’d heard anything like it was the soaring song of the bottle-nose Labradors at home, and that was vastly different. It was only when Myra started to see flashes, glimmers of black and white on the edges of her vision, that she brought it up.

“Eka, do you think those things are friendly?”

“What things?” she replied, looking up from Little White with a startled look on her face.

“The howling things.”

Eka’s expression changed in an instant. “You’ve been hearing howling? For how long? Are they following us?”

“Woah, slow down. They’re probably harmless.”

“They might be orcas! What Pa calls killer-wolves!”

“Oh no,” Myra whispered.

“Yep.”

They looked around, and Eka clutched Little White closer to her chest as she noticed the huge white eyepatches of the wolves, winking in and around the trees.

Myra sucked in a breath. “If we can make friends with a tiger, we can do the same with a wolf, right? They’re just hounds with a scary name.” Both of them jumped when they heard a howl coming from just a few metres away.

“We should run.”

“There’s no way we can outrun them!”

“We have to try!” Eka said, her face pale. “Run!"

They began to run, and the mournful howls turned to excited yips. They ran and ran, until suddenly Myra stopped, grabbing hold of a tree to keep herself upright.

“What are you doing —?”

“Shut up. Did your Pa ever tell you if wolves can climb?”

Eka’s eyes widened, and she looked up to the green cloak of leaves above them. She had never climbed a tree before.

“They can’t Myra, but neither can we.”

“Just because we never have doesn’t mean we can’t,” she said, putting her hand on the lowest branch and starting to haul herself up. Eka looked back to put Little White in her pack and instantly regretted it; barely three paces away were the bright eye-patches and dead eyes of a wolf. It was bigger than she had imagined. She screamed and started to climb.

“Eka! Are you alright?”

She had just grabbed hold of the second branch when she felt teeth close around her ankle. She screamed again as her hands burned against the tree bark.

“Eka!” Myra screamed, and jumped down from where she climbed to — straight onto the wolf. It yelped, letting go of Eka, then yelped again when Myra punched it in the nose. It made a wet crunching noise as it connected, and the wolf flinched and dropped to the ground. Myra leapt up, grabbing hold of Eka’s outstretched hand, and they climbed as far as their trembling limbs would let them.

***

“So we’re definitely not going to make it to the drop today.”

Eka laughed. “No."

“Do you think we could sleep up here?” Myra asked, kicking her legs lazily through the leaves.

“Probably not.” Eka replied, equally lazy. "The atmosphere away from the surface isn’t very good for humans. We might die in our sleep or something.”

“I was more concerned about falling out.”

“Also bad. Can you pass the water-skin?”

The pod had waited for a long time at the surface of the tree before leaving, their howls and calls fading to the rustling of leaves and whistles of flying-fish. They had been patient hunters, but their stomachs were empty, and their prey unreachable and relieved.

“I’m just worried,” Myra said as she passed the water-skin. “The sun is setting, and we can’t sleep on the ground without every killer-whale and big fish in the area seeing an easy snack.”

Eka offered her pup a drink, then sat sipping slowly, her brow furrowed. The sun tipped the leaves around her head in red and gold. “We could light a fire,” she said reluctantly.

“Wouldn’t that draw them to us?”

“The animals in Hutan Laut are afraid of fire. But it’s risky. The trees will not be happy.”

Myra scoffed. “Why would that matter?”

“They can be dangerous, when they feel threatened,” Eka said, her voice tired.

“Can’t be worse than killer-wolves,” said Myra. She clapped her hands together. “Now let’s go make a fire.”

They walked softly after climbing down, gathering dry pieces of weed and wood. One hand held the bundles, while the other held the biggest stick they could find. Little White played among the rustling leaf litter, a small but necessary risk. They dropped everything they gathered in the middle of a clearing, in the middle of a circle of stones, surrounded by old, creaking trees.

“Now what?” asked Myra, rubbing her bruised and scratched hands gingerly.

Eka grinned. “You can be pretty scary brave when you have to be. You guard, I light.”

Myra giggled, and turned away quickly to hide her blush, pretending to scan the forest. Eka grinned again, and took out her flint and steel.

The sun was completely down by the time the fire was a respectable size, and both of them were grateful for its comforting light as they settled down for sleep.

“It’s weird not to be able to see the stars,” Myra murmured, her eyes half closed.

“I can never really see them,” Eka said matter-of-factly, scratching the purring tiger on her chest. “I have terrible eyesight. And hearing, I think.”

“Oh yeah, I always forget that!” Myra said. There was a pause. “I kind of lied, then. I can still see them, but just as solitary lights, not as patterns. The leaves are moving too much to see them for longer than a second.”

“It must be windy out there. I hadn’t noticed 'till now, but I haven’t felt the wind since -.”

“Wait. If you can’t feel any wind, then why is that seaweed moving?”

“What seaweed?” Eka said, sitting up and squinting at the nearby trees. They were closer than before, leaning menacingly over the girls, while the whip-like shadows of seaweed crept towards them. “Myra, we need to move.”

“What, really?” she whined, and cursed.

Eka sighed, rubbing the beginning of sleep out of her eyes. “I’ll put the fire out, you get our stuff.”

The shadows grasped at Myra’s feet, but she walked over them like an emperor over peasants, and they let her through.

They spent the night curled in the hollow of an ancient oak, taking turns to watch for monsters.

Chapter Text

They started late. Eka had waited until dawn to fall asleep. Or at least, ‘till the ink above her had dripped and faded to blurred hexagons of shifting, dark green light. Her dreams had been filled with the same out of focus patterns of forest foliage.

Myra’s dreams were filled with the sparks and shadows of a fire, and the mottled red and blue of a newly formed bruise. It was not an unpleasant dream.

“Do you remember which way we were meant to go?” Myra asked, pulling her pack straps tighter and stifling a yawn.

“I think so. We’ll find out soon, anyway.”

They started walking, both smiling whenever Little White pounced on a leaf. The leaves rippled across the surface like fingers on a piano, and the pup chased after each one like he was dancing to their tune.

Though they stopped for breaks a few times, the morning passed uneventfully. Myra was in the middle of a passionate defense of her musical abilities when they saw it.

Eka’s arm hit her chest as they broke through the trees, stopping her speech by pushing the breath out of her. They looked out, then up.

“Whoa.”

The ground fell away like an old man’s memory. Though the trees still reached to the same heights, these ones were impossibly vast. As the girls' eyes travelled down, the trunks blurred from the dark green of leaves that rarely saw the sun to the black of those that had forgotten it. The roots reached far beyond their vision, to a depth that the girls couldn’t even imagine.

It was beautiful, eerie, and was made more so by the whistle. And it was a whistle, though it sounded like a croon, and a groan as well. Like the melody of a dying mother singing to her child.

“What is that?” asked Eka, her face pale.

“I don’t know.”

“We should leave.”

“What?” Myra cried, and Eka winced as the sound echoed through the trees. A school of birds startled, bursting from the trees and whooshing over their heads, feathers and scales brushing their hair. Myra didn’t appear to notice. "We can’t do that! We’ve come so far! What are you thinking?”

"I’m thinking that I’m tired, and dirty, and scared, and I wanna go home! We made it, Myra. We don’t need to prove anything.”

“We haven’t gotten the cat yet. I’m not leaving until we find it.”

They glared at each other for a moment. The sea was silent. Then the whistle came again, and Eka’s eyes slid in its direction. “Myra! What’s that?”

“Holy seal. Is that what I think it is?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

“Oh, sorry.” She paused, her eyes wide with wonder. ‘I think it's a blue deer.”

Eka whistled. “I wish I could see it properly. Is the white blur the antlers?”

“Yeah. Holy seal, it’s beautiful.”

The antlers were as white and jagged as lighting, reaching higher than the cliff, higher than the treetops. It was huge, and when it turned its head, its eyes, like liquid night, were the size of Eka. It filled Myra with awe and sadness.

“I think that it’s making that whistle."

Eka looked worried. “Do you mean that tortured moaning sound?”

“Yeah.” They both looked in the direction of the deer. “But why?”

“Is it wounded?”

"It’s standing.”

“It’s not moving, though.”

Myra frowned, squinting along the smooth lines of the deer. “Eka… how did your father say that they caught deer?”

“They usually use harpoons.”

“Do they ever use nets?”

“Before the weapons.” They looked at each other with dread. There was a long silence, broken only by the song of the blue deer.

Myra’s hands tightened into fists. “We can’t just let it die like this!”

“Even if it would feed the entire village for a month?” Eka asked softly. They were silent again. Eka rubbed a hand over her face and sighed. “Don’t answer that. Looks like we’re going past the drop after all.”

Myra looked at the closest tree. “Do you think we could jump onto that?”

“Only one way to find out,” said Eka grimly, and placed Little White gently into her pack. He squeaked in protest. She looked at Myra, and she grinned at her, and Eka was helpless to not return it. They backed up a few paces, and jumped.

***

By the time they got level to the bull’s eye, they were panting, dripping in sweat and covered in small cuts. Leaping from branch to branch, ducking the now enormous leaves and climbing down a trunk with less and less handholds had taken its toll. But now they were close enough to touch his speckled flank, to hear his great lungs heaving. And more importantly, to see the ropes that twisted around his legs and chest. He was still groaning, though it had softened with his curiosity, and the sound rumbled through their chests.

He had twisted his head around to look at the girls; his nostrils expanded as he sniffed them. Eka automatically breathed with it, noticing the soft, forest scent of his coat, and the sour underlying stench of fear. Despite that, he appeared calm. His dark eyes were clear and steady, and though they were splattered with brown and gold, no white surrounded his irises.

“How are we going to cut these ropes?” said Myra, startling Eka from staring. She sighed.

"I don’t think we can. We have to untangle him.”

“That could take all day!”

“Who knows? Maybe the deep forest will make for a more comfortable sleep.”

Myra rolled her eyes, and started climbing down. “You stay here. Work out the tangles on top. I’m going down to the belly of the beast.”

***

The bull had waited patiently, even when he felt his bonds begin to loosen. He knew that the strange creatures climbing over him were responsible, and knew that he needed to keep still. But when the last of the ropes began to give way, he gave a shiver. Pawing the ground, he shook his head and started to run.

***

“Not done yet?” Myra said, grinning when Eka gave a shriek and almost fell from her precarious perch on the antlers.

“Have you finished untangling the legs?” Eka said, turning around and glaring when her friend smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes. Hurry up and help me."

Myra started to climb, still with a smile on her face. “There’s no need to feel so smug. Antlers are more complicated than legs,” Eka added.
Myra laughed.

“I was almost finished anyway,” Eka grumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” Myra said innocently, climbing past Eka. “Wow, these tangles are so simple up here!”

“I was leaving those ‘till last!” Eka yelled, and Myra snorted. Eka caught sight of Little White sitting neatly on a tine next to her. He yawned, and Eka knew in her bones that he was laughing at her as well.

They worked in silence for a few minutes, a silence that was only broken by Myra’s giggles and Eka’s grumpy sighs. However, her sighs turned relieved when she finished untying the final knot.

“Finished!”

“Same!”

They looked at each other, then grinned. “We’re done!” they screamed, then screamed again when the bull moved. The head, then the antlers shivered, tipped back, and the deer was flying through the forest.

Eka buried her head in the crook of her elbow. She called out to Myra, trying her best to be heard over the rushing wind.

“Myra! Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Is Little White okay?”

“Yeah!"

“Do you have any idea of how to stop this thing?” There was a pause. A long pause.

“Wait for it to slow down?”

Chapter Text

“Jump… now!”

The deer had been moving for hours. At first he had been running for the sake of running, but he had soon settled down to a walking pace. He began to look around searchingly, his great head turning this way and that like a ship tilted by stormy waves.

“Maybe he’s looking for his pod,” Eka had whispered, and Myra had nodded, patting his antlers in a comforting sort of way.

“Should we help him?”

“How could we?”

Even moving at a slower pace, it took a long time for the deer to fully stop.

“We need to move, now!”

“What, here?”

“Yes, here!”

They jumped, landing roughly against the bark of the trunk. The deer looked startled, and peered closely at them, close enough for them to see themselves reflected entirely in his forest coloured eyes. Then he blinked, and started walking again, pausing to grab a mouthful of leaves. They watched him disappear before they looked around.

“Uh, Myra?” Myra looked over. “How are we going to get out?”

“Of where?”

“This whole damn forest Myra! We were meant to just go see the drop! Now we’re stuck in the middle of the Hutan Laut, with no possible way of getting back before we run out of food, and no way to know if we’re going back or just going forward! What are we going to do, Myra?”

“I don’t know! And this isn’t my fault, so stop yelling at me!” Myra snapped, balling up her fists.

Eka looked like she wanted to keep doing just that, but sighed instead. “I’m sorry. That was unfair.”

They were silent for a moment, sitting side by side on the edge of tree branch that was thicker than their house.

Myra broke the silence first. “We can’t jump across the branches anymore. They’re too far apart.”

“We’ll have to go down to the ground," Eka said, and her eyes were full of dread.

***

“I was expecting it be darker,” Myra said, looking around with delight. “Where is all the light coming from?”

“Fire-fish, I think, I can’t see them very clearly.”

“There're so tiny, but they make so much light! Wait, are they the same as a lantern-cat?”

“Cats have bigger teeth,” Eka said, smiling tiredly at her own joke. “Also, I would stay out of the light. It’s nice to see by, but it makes us too visible.”

They tried to avoid the fire-fish, but there were too many. They walked through the sprinkle of lights cautiously, only smiling when they caught sight of the other’s face. They looked strange and otherworldly with the scattered glow of the fish dipping around and around their heads and bodies and feet.

“Myra,” Eka said suddenly, looking stricken.

“What?” Myra whispered, her face going pale. “Are we being followed?”

Eka grinned. “Don’t look now, but it looks like you’re on fire.” Myra looked down quickly, then glared at Eka.

“You’re an idiot,” she said huffily, and punched her in the arm when she marched past.

Eka laughed. She went to adjust Little White, then flinched when she saw eyes just beyond the glow of the fire-fish. There were a lot of them and as she watched they blinked simultaneously, then disappeared. She shuddered and ran to catch up to Myra.

“Uh, Myra?”

“Oh, nuh-uh, I am not falling for that again.”

“Myra -."

“Eka, I know it’s you making that skittering sound, you can stop,” she said, turning her nose up and refusing to turn back.

Eka caught up to her, and physically spun her around. “Myra, can you shut up and run?”

Myra froze. “What. Is that.”

“Octopus. Run."

Their run was dreamlike. They were frantic, but their way was lit by swimming lights, which flashed by in a haze of beauty. The sounds of the octopus neither got closer nor receded. Eventually they slowed, then stopped, panting. When they turned, they looked straight into the glowing red eyes of the octopus. It had stopped as well, clumsily, and its many jointed legs were trying to tuck themselves back in order. It looked at them, then away, and almost seemed to cower away from their attention.

“Is it afraid of us?” Myra asked softly. The octopus quivered.

“Well, we’ve eaten octopus before,” Eka said uncomfortably. “Our people hunt them, even if only in the shallows. And apparently they’re pretty smart, so maybe this one remembers… something.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah.”

Myra took a step closer to the creature, and it flinched, bouncing back a step.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay,” she said softly, stretching out a hand, and walking with exaggerated care. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

It looked at her, unblinking, and made a clicking sound with its pincers until she stood within arm’s length. It shivered again when she touched it gently on the side of its head, but didn’t otherwise move.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend for yourself,” Eka murmured, and Myra turned and smiled at her. The octopus scuttled out of reach, but when Myra looked at it again, it stopped and inclined its head. Then it faded back into the shadows of the tree trunks.

There was a pause. “Did it just bow to me?” Myra exclaimed, and Eka laughed.

“Told you they were smart.”

***

They only made it to a hundred steps when they heard a scream.

“What was that?” Eka asked, looking around wildly.

“That was the octopus! We have to go help it!”

“Wait, Myra, what’re you -?” Eka started, then gave up and started running after her.

They were back among the fire-fish, ducking and diving between the flashing pillars of trees, then away. But they could still see; there was another light source. A number of orange flickers that seemed curiously familiar.

Eka finally caught up to her friend, and pulled her to a stop. “Myra, stop. It could be a dangerous predator that’s hurting it. We need to -.”

“Those are torches, Eka. It’s being hurt by humans.” Myra kept moving, and burst through the trees into a clearing. Eka, following resignedly behind her, noticed the giant broken web in the centre, orange in the torchlight. Then the body of the octopus, encased in webbing not of its own making.

“What's that?”

"Who are you?”

"How did you get here?"

The voices overlapped, but Myra ignored them and marched straight up to the man holding a harpoon. It was aimed at the octopus’s many eyes. She snatched it out of his hands and, with the same motion, cut the bonds holding the octopus down. It bounced up and jumped into the tree, disappearing within seconds.

“What did you do that for?” the man roared, and wretched back the weapon. Myra's confidence visibly vanished, and she shrank away from him.

“Don’t speak to her like that!” Eka said, moving between them. He glared at her, and she glared right back. Then his eyes widened.

“You girls are just kids. What are you doing in the middle of the ocean?” Eka looked at Myra, who had regained her feet to stand next to her, and suddenly, the man laughed. The angry tension drained away from the clearing, and the hunting party lowered their weapons, laughing as well. They’re just little girls echoed around the camp.

“I’ll bet you girls are lost, hey? Which village are you from? Perhaps we can escort you back?”

Myra looked sour, but bit back her anger when Eka caught her eye and shook her head.

“Thank you,” Eka said, “Our village is called Samudera Desa, and we would welcome directions.”

“You’ve travelled all the way from Samudera Desa? Holy seal girls! How are you still alive?”

Everyone was surprised, but nobody seemed to notice when neither of them answered. They also didn’t notice the small mewl that came from Eka’s pack. Little White was clearly tired of staying hidden for so long.

“Sorry, little one,” Eka whispered, and reached over her shoulder to scratch behind his ears.

“Well, follow us then. We’ll get you back, but it’ll be a nasty trek.”

“While I appreciate your generosity, we could probably make it just with directions and some extra food,” Myra said with forced politeness. “We don’t want to inconvenience you.”

The men laughed again. “And leave you to be swallowed by the darkness and monsters? I don’t think so. Follow us.”

The girls looked around, and saw the bright eyes of the octopus in the trees. They saw the fire-fish, flashing and flaming just through the trees. Then they looked at the flat eyes of the men, and the dull flash of their weapons. They followed the men, but not because they were afraid of the darkness.

Chapter Text

The men made camp after they had travelled for an hour. They ignored the girls almost completely. While they walked, while they set up tents and fires, while they told hunting stories and jokes. Eka and Myra ignored them right back, but didn’t talk to each other either. They accepted the food they were given without expression, Eka sneaking off every now and then to let Little White stretch and eat. They didn't speak until they heard each of the men start to snore.

“I won’t let them drag us back to the village like one of their hunting prizes,” Myra said, her voice barely louder than a breath.

“What choice do we have? If we try to run, we’ll just get lost again, and they’ll probably catch up again pretty quickly.”

“So let’s go back. Find the lantern-cat. Finish this.”

“How will we get back?”

“Who cares. All I know is that I’m not going back with them.”

Eka twisted to face Myra in her borrowed sleeping bag, and smiled.

“Well, we don’t have to go back with them.”

***

They walked for hours, until they felt like they were drowning in tiredness.

“Myra, we need to stop,” Eka said, scrubbing her hands down her face.

“No. We keep going."

“I don’t even know what we’re looking for anymore.”

“Does it matter?”

***

It took them a long time to notice the dancing lights were getting thicker and thicker as they walked, until it felt like they were wading through them. They noticed the greater brightness suddenly, when they walked through the centre of the vortex, into a shining, ethereal halo of fire. Sprawled out in the middle was a cat, fat, fluffy, and contented. When it yawned it showed all of its deadly fangs, but the hovering fish surrounding it ignored them, intent on what flickered just above the cat’s head.

A lantern.

It made to bite them in a token effort, but they were much larger than its usual prey, and it gave up struggling quite easily after being slung over Myra’s shoulder. When Eka tickled it under its chin after they had spent some time walking, it was quick to started purring.

All four of them fell asleep soon after, wherever they fell.

***

By the time Myra and Eka caught up to the men, they’d stopped looking for them. They were on the way to the shallows, and Eka was certain she could lead the way from there. Until then, they just had to make sure they weren’t noticed. It was easier than you’d think, actually. Considering they were travelling with a lantern-cat.