Chapter Five

Lyda knew she must have lost her mind to think this was a wise idea. She slipped quietly back into her room, careful not to wake Adea as she dressed in warm clothes. She then hurried out to the small shed near the chicken coop and grabbed an old, rusty lantern. They rarely ever used it because her family did not often leave the cottage at night, so she doubted anyone would notice she was using it now. She managed to light the stone cold lantern and, with her leather-bound book stuffed in a pack on her back, she saddled up one of her father's smaller ponies and rode off down the ridgeline.

Lyda had been learning to ride since she was six-years-old, so she was fairly good at it for her age. The pony she had taken was her favorite, the same one she rode the first time she ever mounted a horse; a beautiful, auburn young pony with white spots dotting along her back. Lyda fell in love with her immediately, naming her Hazel.

Despite how adept she had become riding Hazel around the cottage, this was already farther than Lyda had ever ridden before. She took it slow but sped into a gallop whenever she could. She knew the mountains around her house very well, but it became tougher for her to navigate the farther she rode into the dark. Nothing was going to stop her. She tried her best to remember the way Iris took her this morning. They had kept a creek to their left most of the way. Maybe that would lead her back again. Lyda pulled Hazel to a halt for a moment while she listened to her surroundings. Sure enough, she could make out the soft rushing of water in the near distance. It was too difficult to tell for sure in the dark, but Lyda guessed she was on the right path.

She followed the creek for a little over two hours, weaving through the trees before Hazel suddenly jerked to a halt. Lyda gasped as she lost her grip on the reins, snatching hold of her pony's mane to keep from getting thrown off.

"Hazel!" Lyda cried. "What's the matter with you?" She tried to spur her forward, but the pony only resisted and whinnied anxiously as if some unseen force was preventing her from going any further. "Worthless animal," Lyda berated her as she dismounted. She tried to pull Hazel by the reins in her direction, but she resisted the same as before, and Lyda noticed an expression like that of pure fear residing deep within her large, black eyes. This, however, did not faze her. "Fine," she grumbled, "but you're staying right here." Lyda guided Hazel over to a nearby tree small enough to tie her reins around but strong enough to hold her until she returned.

With Hazel secured, Lyda picked up her lantern and proceeded to go on by herself. She did take more than several steps before Hazel started going berserk again. Lyda glanced back, watching as the pony thrashed about as if trying to break free of her tether. She froze as soon as she saw Lyda watching. Lyda took another step forward, and the pony began to whine again. It was as if she did not want Lyda to go any further.

This only annoyed Lyda more than anything. "Shut up!" she hissed and turned to keep walking, ignoring Hazel's incessant wailing. She thoroughly scanned her surroundings as she went, ensuring the creek remained nearby. She had no idea how far away she was from the spot Iris took her to, but she knew she had to be on the right path. Things were starting to look more and more recognizable, and after no more than ten minutes of wandering, she came across a familiar sight.

Lyda walked past a small patch of feverfew flowers. Her mind flashed back to Iris' lesson that morning. She held up the lantern and began shining the light around until it rested upon a large slab of stone in the ground just ahead of her. She had found her way back on her own, and in half the time, thanks to Hazel.

Lyda knelt upon the rock and glanced around, marveling at how much different this place looked in the dead of night as opposed to the illuminated beauty of the day. Not sure what to do from here, Lyda was about to sit down on the rock and take out the book, hoping to find something that might give her a better understanding as to how to find this "Crossing". However, before she could even sit down, something ahead of her caught her eye. It took her mind a second to register it, but she gasped in astonishment as she jumped to her feet, holding the light in front of her to make sure she was not imagining it.

It was unbelievable. Only about twenty feet away, exactly where Lyda had seen the rhododendron shrub earlier, she was now staring at a towering brush of the same plant. It was utterly enormous, and the cluster was large enough to span into the tree lines on either side. It looked a bit more like an erratic hedge than a brush. Lyda was breathless as she gawked at it. There was no way all of this was here before. She would have seen it, sure as day. She could not keep her blood from going cold as an unnerving thought came to mind: perhaps whoever wrote the passage in the book was telling the truth, and this place was not always here. Was it an illusion? A hallucination? Or was this place truly a domain of the Spirits?

That last thought filled Lyda with a rush of adrenaline. Her desire to know more was far stronger than her rational impulse of fear, the same fear that Hazel must have felt when she went ballistic. Lyda held the lantern ahead of her as she approached the brush, and it was now that the tangible sensation of the area hit her all at once. This time, however, it was different. It felt neither tranquil nor malevolent. It was more like an intense pressure in the air that made Lyda's head start to swim. It was as if this place was testing her own will and desire. If that was true, then it was a challenge Lyda was ready to accept.

She approached the edge of the brush. The pressure was heavier now more than ever. It almost felt as if something was trying to guide her. Lyda started making her way around the edge of the rhododendron cluster, not sure what she was looking for until she came upon a sudden break in the brush, just wide enough for a single person to walk through. Her excitement continued to escalate as she remembered the book speaking of a narrow, maze-like path winding through the rhododendron. Lyda slipped into the opening between the bushes without hesitation. The path was a tight fit, even for her small body, and she had to angle her arm carrying the lantern awkwardly in front of her. The tops of the bushes curved over the path, creating a ceiling that blocked much of the starlight.

Although the narrow path was abundant in twists and turns, Lyda noticed no deviations or other tracks branching off elsewhere, making it seem less like a maze and more like a mere winding trail. It was not fear that was gripping Lyda's mind, not yet at least. Instead, the voices in her head were both pressing her to go deeper into the brush and screaming at her to turn around and run away, but her curiosity was far stronger than her primal instincts, and all the while, the atmosphere continued to get heavier. At last, the towering bushes on either side of her broke apart without warning, and Lyda stepped out into the open, gasping at the sight right in front of her. She had found it.