Chapter Twenty-Two: Blackthorn

 

     Captain Watson would have had a great deal of difficulty reaching the forest had it not been for Strathclyde’s torch. The night was very dark, and low-hanging clouds shrouded the ground in places, eclipsing the moonlight so completely that he had to rely on his own sense of direction and Dot’s nose to have any hope of reaching the forest at all. The wind was uncharacteristically still, and the snow creaked eerily under the Captain’s heavy boots.

      They moved along slowly now, the Captain silently praying for his lost child. But when they had come within a hundred yards of the forest, Dot suddenly released a low, mournful howl and broke into a sprint, her nose to the ground. He sprinted after her, certain that she had at last picked up Lily’s scent.

      Dot skidded to a halt at the tree line, and the Captain could clearly make out the imprint of small, booted feet. They were widely spaced, as if she had been running, rather than walking, into the menacing wood. Man and dog followed Lily’s footprints carefully beneath the outer trees, and the Captain’s mind raced, gripped by the fear of what may have become of his precious daughter.

      The footprints led them only a short distance into the forest before they stopped abruptly in front of a treacherous blackthorn hedge—a tall, wide, twisted barrier that no man the size of the Captain could hope to pass through without the help of an axe. Lily’s footprints became muddled just before the blackthorn, as if she had tried several times to squeeze through, her feet pressing deeply into the dark earth and muddying the snow in the process. In the confusion of prints, neither the Captain nor Dot noticed Lily’s set of footprints racing away from the blackthorn.

      Captain Watson paused for a moment to survey the hedge. Then, with his eyes focused, his jaw set squarely, and his mind fixed on the task at hand, he began to attack the blackthorn at its weakest points. He tore at one spiky branch after another, breaking them and throwing them aside, while Dot began to excavate a hole at the blackthorn’s base. Both man and dog worked tirelessly, ignoring the painful pricks and scratches the spikes inflicted.

      After an eternity of pushing and breaking and squeezing the Captain and Dot emerged at last on the other side of the hedge, eager to pick up Lily’s trail again and race on to her rescue. But there were no more footprints. No more scent to follow. There was no sign of Lily at all. A lesser man would have crumbled in desperation, but Captain Watson immediately began to evaluate the situation. He paced back and forth for a few moments, deep in thought.

      “I’m very sorry, Old Girl,” he finally said to Dot with a sigh, “but it looks like we’ve lost her. She didn’t come this way. I’m afraid I can see no course of action but going back through the hedge and looking at those footprints again.”

      Dot let out another low moan, and the Captain put out his hand to give her an apologetic pat when he realized that she was not moaning out of despair. She immediately leapt in front of her master and crouched low to the ground, her eyes fixed on a spot not three feet in front of her.

      The torch was already burning low, and the Captain squinted as he searched the ground for the invisible threat. Just then, two shining green eyes flashed in the firelight. “Show yourself!” the Captain demanded as instinct kicked in and he leveled his pistol directly at the eyes.

      Slowly, into the yellow ring of torchlight stepped a red fox. His tail was bent strangely to the right.

     Lily’s father lowered his pistol and looked intently into the fox’s brilliant green eyes. He blinked.     

      The fox blinked. “No,” he whispered to himself. “It can’t be.”

      The fox took a step forward, but retreated cautiously when Dot began to growl.

      “It’s okay, girl,” the Captain said, patting her on the head. “It won’t hurt us.”

      A battle raged in the Captain’s mind. He had heard many fantastic stories in his life. He had even invented quite a few himself. But no matter how far his imagination had traveled, he had never dreamed that the fantasies could be true.

     But now, having heard Strathclyde’s story, and having seen his daughter’s drawings, he began to wonder…Could it be true? For Lily’s sake, he had to take that chance. He shook his head and swallowed hard as he forced himself to set aside his doubt. He stared into the fox’ shining eyes.

      “Have you seen Lily? Have you seen my little girl?” he ventured, a slight tremor in his voice.

      The fox tilted his head to the side and stared back at the Captain. Then it nodded.

      The Captain drew a sharp breath.

     “But where…” his voice trailed off as a hint of doubt lingered. Then, taking a last leap of faith, he continued. “Where is she?”

      “This way, sir,” the fox answered quietly, and darted into the night.