Each of their steps was cushioned by a layer of leaves and twigs. They were walking on a slightly soft surface, like a gym mat. Mosses and tall grasses absorbed the sound of their shoes as well as the staff touching the ground between steps. Apart from that, the forest was perfectly silent.
"Where are the birds?" Inata whispered.
"I think they're here. Watching us."
"Why—"
A faint rustling made them jump. Something, or someone, had passed right behind them. They could feel the movement of air that lingered for a few moments before settling into an oppressive stillness.
"What was that?" the sister asked.
Hichy put a finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet. Then they stood motionless for a long moment, straining to catch the slightest sound the forest might reveal. Everything was perfectly silent. The boy motioned for his sister to start walking again.
Frrrtttt!
"There! I heard it!" Inata shouted, leaping at least a metre into the air.
"It's nothing. Everything's fine," her brother replied, trying to reassure her.
Fear, far more contagious than any disease, spread to him in turn. Maybe things were not going to go as smoothly as expected, and their adventure might end prematurely.
The twins were frozen, unable to take a single step or make the slightest movement. The silence was so complete that Hichy could now hear small squeaks, like those of a sick animal trapped in a snare. He turned his head to find the source of the sound and discovered it came from his sister's sobs. If they did not die from an attack by savage beasts, they would far more likely die of fear if she kept this up.
"That's enough!" he snapped. "We're in a forest. It's a living thing full of other living things, so of course there are noises and rustling leaves. There are voles and shrews, birds, lizards—lots of things crawling and running around. When you hear something, just tell yourself it's a cute little mouse."
Inata wiped her tears, somewhat reassured. She adjusted the straps of her backpack and started walking again.
"Tell me what you'll do once we're in the great city at the centre," her brother asked.
"I'll start by enrolling in school," she began. "I'll have lots of girlfriends to share secrets with. And you—wouldn't you be happy to have friends your own age?"
Inata's question hung in the air, heavy with the scent of bark. Her brother had stopped several steps behind her and was pale as a sheet.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing, nothing," he lied.
"Then stop lagging behind and answer my question."
Hichy jogged to catch up with Inata. The leaves had shifted in the undergrowth right beside him, but it was neither a lizard nor a small shrew. The animal—or thing—was closer in size to a huge rat. He chose to remain silent so as not to frighten his sister, but fear had leapt onto his shoulders and was now trying to crush him under its weight. Above all, don't panic, he told himself. And above all, don't show anything to Inata. She's far too emotional.
"I really don't want to go to school. I'd rather—Ahhhhhh! I've been bitten! It's a huge viper! I'm going to die!"
His screams tore through the forest silence and echoed off the trunks for kilometres around. A set of jaws had clamped onto his calves—he was sure of it, having always had a mortal fear of snakes of all kinds.
"It's not a viper, you triple idiot!" his sister laughed. "Look behind you. It's Melio!"
The little ginger cat leapt into Hichy's arms and licked his face. Its tail twitched and it purred with delight.
"My little Memé! My Melio!" the boy cried joyfully. "And I was going to abandon you."
"This is great," Inata remarked. "We're not allowed to take our ponies, but you get to bring your cat."
"It's not the same. Cats belong to no one."
"Why would ponies belong to anyone? They're not objects, after all."
"Why aren't flies domesticated? I don't know. But we have no way of sending him back to the clearing anyway. Even if I wanted to, it would be impossible—and I absolutely don't want to."
"How is he going to follow us? Cats aren't dogs, and he naps eighteen hours a day."
"I'll carry him. Come here, Melio. I'll put you on my pack, like this."
"Do whatever you want, but now let's go! So far we've spent more time standing still than moving. If this keeps up, we won't arrive in a year—we'll get there when we're old."
They set off again. The little cat, who had never run so much in his life, soon fell asleep, lulled by the swaying motion. His tail, fox-like in appearance, swung left and right in time with Hichy's steps. Small as he was, the animal weighed heavily on his master's back. The boy chose to ignore it and clenched his teeth to keep up with his sister despite the extra load.
They walked on for a long while without further incident. The trunks followed one after another, all alike. There was no landmark to indicate where they were, apart from the path they were careful never to leave.
"What are you doing?" Inata asked when he pulled a knife from his pocket.
"I'm marking the trees. That way I can check we're not walking in circles."
"You can be so stupid! Don't you see the moss?"
"What's wrong with the moss?"
"It points north."
"That's in movies. Moss doesn't point north—it grows on the shadiest, dampest side."
"Then let's trust the sun."
"That's the problem. It keeps turning."
"No it doesn't, you're talking nonsense."
"Yes it does," her brother retorted, just as his stomach let out a huge growl.
Hichy carefully set Melio down and took some food from his pack.
"Whether we're going in circles or not, we need to eat."
The cat rubbed against his master's legs, demanding his share. He handed it a small piece of sausage, which the animal devoured eagerly.
"You shouldn't do that," Inata pointed out. "Cats can feed themselves, and you need to save your supplies."
"OK," he conceded, pushing the animal away.
The twins chewed their bread and dried fruit in silence. The birds had begun to sing again and, after the initial moment of shyness, the forest had grown accustomed to their presence and come back to life. Chirps and calls came from all directions—they were no longer alone.
After a short break to digest, they stood up with the help of their staffs and resumed walking.
"I can tell this is going to be long," Hichy remarked. "Every day the same thing, the same scenery. And walking, walking, always walking. And I hate it! It's going to be awful. I wonder if I wouldn't have preferred to be burned alive. A hike that lasts a year—you can't imagine a worse torture."
"The worst torture is listening to you complain all day."
They had been walking for two hours when Hichy cried out.
"There! Look! I told you!"
"It might be another cut that looks similar."
The bark of the tree was marked with an H, carved in a slanted capital letter. It could not be a coincidence. The twin ran his finger over it and found it still fresh. There was no doubt at all: it was the mark he had made just before eating.
"We've been walking in circles since this morning," he said gravely. "The sun makes a two-hour cycle, just like us. It takes us the same amount of time to go around."
"But Golock told us never to leave the path."
This time, Inata could not use the moss as an excuse to deny the terrible conclusion. They had not advanced an inch.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Hichy asked when his sister stared at him in alarm.
"The cat—he's not on your pack anymore!"
"Damn it! I forgot him when we started again. If we're back at the starting point, he can't be far."
An orange flash darted through the leaves a little further on, bounding like a cross between a squirrel and a cheetah.
"There! That's him! Help me catch him!"
The children gave chase to the disobedient animal, which seemed to delight in being pursued. He darted behind a large rock, veered right, dove under a carpet of leaves, and reappeared further on. Then he dug his claws into the bark of a tree and began to climb. That was when Hichy grabbed him.
"Got him!"
He held the cat firmly in his arms and, despite its protests, they headed back toward the path, their only landmark in this unfamiliar forest.
"We definitely came through here," Inata said.
"Yes… I think so. Where's the trail?"
"We should have come across it. We've been walking for at least half an hour."
"Now it's certain. We're completely lost…"