Follow the Flowers

Follow The Flowers

Written by Samantha Denny Illustrated by Cynthia Lee

Ever since the storm that had torn up Whalelight and sent people rushing indoors to hide from the massive chunks of ice raining down on them, it seemed like the whole world was going mad. The storm had vanished just as soon as it had swept through the town, but it left the town in such a state at the town hall meeting that night, and the stories people brought of other sudden weather events in other places didn’t help the panic. That day had started out so nicely too; Astrid had picked up Thomas from his family’s clock store after getting their usual order from the bakery, and they had headed to have a picnic at Marie’s house. Now here they were, trying to get to Silverburgh in search of answers.

Astrid frowned when she noticed a small cluster of chrysanthemums gathered at the base of one of the trees on the side of the road. Thomas was feeding Ranger, their draft horse, some oats for a snack where they had stopped on the side to give Ranger a break from pulling their cart. Astrid glanced over her shoulder and saw Marie standing at the back of the cart, fussing with something she couldn’t see while Whisper, her goshawk, sat perched on the edge.

She knew that she ought not to read too much into things like clusters of chrysanthemums, but after the stories of strange weather events like the ice storm back home and the things they had seen on the road, the sudden appearance of flowers that meant death and mourning felt too ominous to overlook. Carefully, Astrid approached the cluster of flowers, her frown deepening when she saw more dotting the undergrowth behind the tree.

“Marie! Thomas! Come look at this!” she called, moving back to the side of the road, and her friends both looked up.

“What is it?” Thomas called back, brushing his hands off on his trousers as he and Marie made their way over. “Something wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Astrid confessed, looking back at the chrysanthemums. “I’m worried about the chrysanthemums, they’re everywhere here, but I haven’t seen that many on the road until now.”

“Do you think they mean something?” Marie asked. Whisper landed on her shoulder as they looked at the flowers cutting through the dark undergrowth.

“I’m worried they’re a warning of some kind.” Astrid reached back to tuck a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear, and Whisper chirped. Thomas looked deep in thought. Behind them, Ranger nickered and shook out his mane.

“It’s like a line,” he said at last, and Astrid and Marie started a little.

“What?” Astrid asked, looking back at the chrysanthemums.

“It’s like a jagged line, like it’s leading somewhere, see?” Thomas repeated, pointing into the vegetation. “It’s almost like it could be a path.”

“Should we follow it?” Astrid asked apprehensively, her eyes following the line of clustered chrysanthemums leading deeper into the woods. Further along, Astrid could see stalks of purple wolfsbane encircling the chrysanthemums, like a border.

“I don’t see the harm, as long as it doesn’t go too deep,” Marie said. “And it looks wide enough to fit Ranger and the cart. We can’t leave him out on the road.”

“Good point, I’ll get him,” Thomas agreed, jogging back to grab Ranger’s reins. Turning back to Astrid and stroking Whisper’s head, Marie asked, “What do flowers mean, Astrid?”

“The chrysanthemums mean death and mourning, it’s why people put them on graves. And the purple ones are wolfsbane, which can mean caution,” Astrid murmured. Growing up in a flower shop had given her plenty of time to learn the language of flowers, and it was paying off now. Her stomach swooped, and Marie grimaced before Thomas returned with Ranger walking along in his wake. Their cart crushed down some of the grass and flowers beneath its wheels, but it was able to pass through the trees without getting stuck, so they headed in. Whisper let out a cry and flew from Marie’s shoulder to perch on Ranger’s back, and they laughed a little at that. Whisper had taken a liking to Ranger not long after the three had set out from home, and she often spent time perched on Ranger or flying around the horse’s head if she wasn’t preoccupied with hunting for food or being brushed by Marie.

The tree coverage grew thicker as they made their way deeper into the forest, and the chrysanthemums and wolfsbane seemed to grow thicker underfoot until they suddenly transformed into a trail of red flowers–anemones, if Astrid remembered right.

“Oh, I don’t like this,” Thomas murmured, and Ranger tossed his head, making Whisper shriek and flap her wings. “Easy, watch it!”

“You’re making them nervous,” Marie told him, and Thomas stuck his tongue out at her.

Red anemones, those were like chrysanthemums: a warning. But what were they a warning for? Astrid racked her brain for the answer, following the thinning trail until they came upon something sprawled in a pool of red.

It was massive, probably a bit bigger than Ranger, but it looked more like a deer. A giant deer. It wore two massive, spiraling horns atop its head, although one looked a little chipped and broken compared to the other. The creature had hooved feet, its four legs all sprawled and bent in different directions, and it had a long, thin tail that ended in a tuft of fur. It was unlike anything they’d ever seen, even on their travels. Maybe it was native to this region?

“Are these anemones? And are they…growing on it?” Marie asked, aghast, as she stepped closer to the creature’s head.

Red anemones, red anemones–that’s right, they warned of death!

“Those are anemones, and red ones mean death. Which probably explains why they’re growing on it, but it seems a bit fast, doesn’t it?” Astrid asked, tentatively moving in after her friend. “I mean the body doesn’t look that old.” There was an anemone sprouting from its hindquarters. On the other end of it, the flowers seemed to be in the process of wrapping themselves around its horns.

“You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. Look at its head,” Thomas piped up, keeping a firm grip on Ranger’s reins. They moved to stand around the beast’s head, and Astrid felt nauseous at the sight of the partially decayed head, exposing bits of muscle and bone that plants were already starting to grow through. “It can’t have been dead for very long, the rest of the body looks like it’s still fresh.”

Like her body had a mind of its own, Astrid crouched down to get a better look at the little lake of red anemones cradling the creature’s body. Tentatively, she reached out and touched one of the flowers, recoiling at the wet and sticky sensation that she found.

“It’s certainly fresh, the blood’s still wet,” she said weakly, frantically brushing her hand against the grass to wipe away the blood. The three stared at the creature’s body uneasily for another moment.

“Well,” Marie said quickly, “whatever’s happened, I don’t fancy sticking around to meet whatever’s killed it.”

“Me either,” Astrid admitted, shuddering. “We should get moving again. We should be able to make good time before nightfall.”

They turned their backs on the body of the creature and hurried back to the side of the road, breathing out sighs of relief at the sounds of other people passing along by automobile and by pack animals. Thomas steered Ranger back onto the road while Marie and Astrid clambered into the cart, bundling under one of their blankets they had brought along for traveling and when the weather got cold. Thomas jumped into the driver’s seat and flicked the reins, and Ranger began to trot down the road, joining the other people moving along.