​
They walked to the west of Sundew, where marshes and gaping trees reigned, where there were whispers of death and danger. The town was unknown to Charlie, but the land surrounding it was a different story. She knew that to the north, there were the blue beasts of the northern mountain range. Standing like a line of proud soldiers to the east were the red canyons. South was the train station. The Green river wound its way through all of it, starting in the mountains and letting out into the marshes.
​
“Need me to hold your skirts for you?” Charlie asked, as Magdalena hiked them up around her knees.
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Magdalena didn’t say anything, only dodged a mossy tree stump in a hurry. Behind her, Russ was getting antsy. “Do you mind tellin’ us where—”
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“Patience,” Magdalena said.
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Charlie was beginning to see that she was a strange woman. Her shoulders were drawn tight and she was silent, seeming to only be aware of the trees around them.
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Russell’s silence grew even more intense. Hell, Charlie’d had enough of him. He was supposed to see in the dark, but it seemed he could only see two feet in front of him. They’d needed a lead, and now they had one. They could handle themselves if things went south. After all, risk-taking was inherent in this line of business.
​
Before he could ruin anything, Magdalena halted in a clearing. A patch of sunlit moss, leaves spiraling into cloudy blue oblivion above them, a stream rushing past them. The evening air was warm and leaf-soaked, turning Magdalena’s dress into ochre and stray hairs into gold.
“How much did you learn about Sundew before jumping on the train here?” She had her back to them, staring deep into the forest.
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The answer was nothing. They didn’t know shit. Charlie didn’t like looking like a fool, though.
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She gritted her teeth in a half-smile. “Well, we didn’t have—”
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“Fifteen have died in this town, searching for Harvey,” Magdalena said, turning abruptly.
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Her voice was icy. “And not to mention the goldrush, the folks who have moved out here, not knowing what’s in store for them, searching for dolvia flowers or the drug that’s made from their petals. For money, for business, or whatever the hell they’re desperate for. It’s always more than they can handle. So I’m here to make sure you don’t follow in their footsteps.”
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The wind had picked up a bit, and the cottonwoods clattered together like rattling bones.
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The breeze caught Magdalena’s dress and ran its fingers through her hair. “Out here, we’re in wild-country. Untamed, some call it. Whatever it is, it’s new, and hungry people haven’t squeezed every last drop of profit out of it yet. So things are different, here.”
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A moth fluttered over her head, effervescent in the rays of the dying sun. Charlie felt wild thoughts pulsating from the creature like trembling weeds on a riverbank. Magdalena pointed towards the windows in the treeline, through which Charlie caught glimpses of a meadow.
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There was movement in the field. Steady, swinging, movement. Ivory figures in the twilight. Charlie’s mouth dried up. “What in the—”
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“Shh.” Magdalena’s finger snapped to her lips. Her voice was a whisper when she spoke. “That is the Cavalcade.”
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Through the gaps in the branches, across the meadow, above the swaths of grass, they danced and shuffled. Charlie could just barely make out what they were, and from the way that Russell was stone-stiff beside her, she could tell that his magic eyes were picking up even more. Haggard white frames. Ribs and fingers and teeth. They were creatures of bone, swaying forth, some with swinging lanterns. Horses, goats, human skulls.
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Her voice caught. “How?”
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Charlie had seen things that some called magic. But this…this wasn’t right. This struck a dread in her that she was unfamiliar with. She couldn’t reach them. Whereas she was accustomed to warmth and heart from every living creature, here she was met face-to-face with cold emptiness.
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“They walk every night,” Magdalena whispered. “They have no souls. They only know hunger, rage, fear. The forest…the forest is hungry. They are its hunger.” She tilted her head towards the canopy above them.
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“It guides them.”
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And just as quickly as she’d stopped, she dusted her skirts off and forded the stream. Charlie lingered for a moment, Russell at her side.
A single skull tilted toward them. The eyes were pits of shadow she could see even from here. Charlie’s breath caught.
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“Keep moving,” Magdalena whispered.