Chapter One
The forest hummed with energy. Dappled sunshine dripped through the canopy of the great beech trees and the soft light made it hard to guess the time of day. Then again, time itself seemed different in these woods. The light was neither the crisp glare of the morning nor the amber glow of the evening, and though no wind penetrated the tremendous trunks of the beeches, the air was moist and fresh. The trees themselves were coated in moss of the deepest green. Crystal droplets hung off the lichen and twinkled like full-bellied stars above the forest floor. The gnarly remains of trees struck down by unknown enemies lay all around, feeding the saplings that grew from the remnants of their forefathers. A stream trickled its way down the gentle slopes that accommodated the forest and smooth stones scattered its banks, leaving a trail to follow should the water ever dry up and one day wish to return. The gentle sound of the running river conducted the orchestra that played in all corners of the forest. Birdsong countered the clicking of the cicadas, wind rustled through the tops of the trees and unseen members of the ensemble crunched across the undergrowth.
Only one man was witness to this. He struck a strange contrast to the forest as he hopped up the river, from rock to rock. Though his feet were bare he wore shorts, a red T-shirt and a small backpack. Despite this, he seemed to be exactly where he meant to be. He stopped and knelt at the side of the river to wash. He took his time, scooping the cool water up in his hands and running it over his neck and arms. He dunked his head into the current and kept it submerged for as long as his breath allowed him, before surfacing and shaking the water from his hair and face. The sunlight came to rest on him as he raised his head towards the canopy above. His hair was shoulder length and somewhat streaked blonde by the sun. His face itself had the tan of a man who has spent many months under the sun and the expression of one who took great pleasure in the sensation of the water on his cheeks. He had a light beard – now wet from his recent wash – and eyes that reflected the layered green of the forest.
After a moment or a while, he continued up the river, light on his feet, never missing a step. The sound of the water had intensified, as though the symphony were reaching its crescendo, and the slopes – of what was now obviously a mountainside – had begun to steepen. The rocks were larger at this stage of the river’s course. There were several short drops from which the water fell. The man’s route up the river was obstructed by a fallen tree, wedged in a fissure in the largest shelf of rock, but this didn’t deter him. He stood below the drop, knee deep in the water, and used the tree to pull himself up to a crack in the stone. From there he climbed the couple of metres that remained as the sounds of the forest cascaded down upon him. Pulling himself up, he found himself standing before the most wonderful waterfall he had ever seen. It was at least twenty metres high and the same wide. Carved into the mountain side, it curved around the clearing into a near semi-circle, giving it the appearance of an amphitheatre. At the top, in the very centre of the river, was a huge rock, as flat and smooth as an ice cube. The pool was a perfect circle and its waters were so clear that he could see to the deepest of its considerable depths. A curtain of water descended towards the pool and the man watched as it fell over the head of a woman. All instinct to breathe left him. She was naked as the day she was born. Floating, with her back to him, she let the water rush over her, and so didn’t see him appear over the rock. She dived down into the crystalline water and the man found himself removing his backpack and T-shirt and approaching the waterfall. Suddenly she burst from the depths, pushed her hair from her face and saw him.
“Hello!” he said to her, advancing in disbelief. “I thought you must have been a…”
The words died in a shout of surprise as he slipped on one of the smooth stones that sat on the river bed and fell face first into the pool. He came to the surface coughing, spluttering and vaguely noticing how delightful the water felt on his face. By the time he had blinked the droplets from his eyes, she had disappeared.
“Hey!” he called out.
The water was so clear that he should have been able to see her, even if she had plunged to the very bottom of the pool. Entering the depths again, this time willingly, he swam towards the base of the waterfall. As he neared the cascade the sound became tremendous and he dived, propelling himself deep into the pool with a strong kick of his legs. Nothing. He came up for air and looked around but again saw nothing. He began to search for her. Ducking through the ever-cascading sheet of water, he found the smooth face of rock that was carved into the mountain, but no woman. She was nowhere to be seen. He bobbed back out of the small cave until he floated below the giant rock above. He let the water fall over his head, like she had. It was strong and heavy but it cleared his head, his soul. He kicked his feet and returned to the relative quiet of the cave, wondering if he’d eaten something in the forest that he shouldn’t have. Come to think of it, when had he last eaten? Or slept? He shook his head, attempting to clear it, and breathed out, letting all the air escape from his lungs. Then, someone grabbed his arm, and he was pulled into nothingness.
