I’ve been mulling over AB’s offer all day. Do I accept? I guess I’ll have to. Right now there’s no other way forward.

But do I trust him?

Absolutely not. I’ve destroyed a part of his world and now he wants me to follow him through the wreckage. Under those circumstances, it’s impossible to trust him. I even get it hard to believe his story about the Basilod. If I go, I’ll go on blind faith. And if Maya dies. Well. If that happens I’ll just walk straight into the Parawerthan and just keep going until our spirits meet again in there someday. I’d never be able to function properly in our world again. Anyway, even when she wakes, I doubt I’ll ever be able to function properly in our world again. Write database programs after what I’ve seen? Are you kidding? Impossible! I’d stand a much better chance of earning a living writing fantasy novels.

Woke up sweating and panting this morning. Worst nightmare I’d had in years. I was trapped in a giant rotting stem. The thing was heaving and squeezing, like it was alive and breathing. Or maybe dying is a better word because it was certainly working hard for breath. I couldn’t breath, though. My face was covered in a thick, suffocating sap. The sap was as orange as Armbranch’s eyes. It flowed in through my nose and mouth and down into my lungs where it hardened and started to expand until my chest looked like a great bud about to bloom. Or burst!

Crazy, crazy stuff. Armbranch was standing over me when I woke. It was a huge relief, not just because I think he woke me, but also because if he wanted to do me harm he could easily have killed me in my sleep. He didn’t even move the gun away from my side. His new arm is almost fully grown. What look like muscle fibre is forming under that barklike skin. Astonishing. Unreal. Insane. Yes. Insane. There’s no other way to describe it.

Is this some kind of advanced stem cell development?

The first thing he did was ask how I was. Then, before I could reply, he made an offer. He’ll come with me if I pursue the Basilod. He’s certainly genuine about hating the beast. Every time he mentions its name, his eyes flare like hot coals.

When I asked about his reasons for pursuing the creature, he dodged the question. I guess it’s revenge. And it makes me feel slightly better. Whatever he thinks about me, it’s obvious he holds the Basilod at least partly accountable for what happened in the Envelop.

Took Armbranch to see Maya and managed to stop him attacking the bones again. All in vain, I’m afraid. Well, not totally. He did tell me what was wrong with her. The Basilod sucked some of the life force from her. Outlandish as it sounds, I believe him. The stench of the Basilod’s magic was thick about her clothes, he said. A ghost stench, cruel and potent. Even if she died, the residue of its touch would cocoon her soul for eternity no matter how I tried to lay her to rest. Even if I cremated her body she’d remain trapped within…

My God! I can’t believe I’m evern writing this. Cremate her? Why? She’s not even dead. No. She’s only sleeping.

But I won’t delete it. No matter how distasteful it may be for her to read when she wakes, it’s got to stay up here. She’s got to know what happened to her. She’s got to know the truth. It’ll help her healing process. If I don’t write it down immediately there’s a risk a part of my mind might choose to dilute the truth in order to make things easier to understand.

Armbranch says I must pursue the Basilod. It’s the only way to cure her. I must find that spirit beast and take back what it stole from her. How? I have no idea. Neither has Armbranch. If nothing else, though, at least I detected a note of sympathy, a softness in his voice that wasn’t there before. Perhaps that look in his eyes isn’t aimed entirely at me.

I’ve decided to let him stay with us at the ‘base camp’. It’s better that way. I can keep a better eye on him and if he wants to leave I won’t stop him. I could do worse than to try and get him on my side.

Letting him stay with us might show some trust.

Basilods? Magicians? Second level creatures? My head was spinning all night from thinking about what Armbranch told me. Insanely, it’s almost funny. Yes. I figure some protective switch has tripped in my head to shield me from this surge of crazy information because if I tried to figure it all out at once I’d go crazy. Armbranch is getting stronger. He was up and hobbling about when I checked on him this morning. It’s time he saw Maya. I can’t wait any longer. Every day I linger here is a day I could be out there trying to find something to help her. I must know if he can help her. He’s strong enough now. I’ll do it later, once I’ve sent a few emails.

Glanced over the Irish Times online earlier. So there’s a new superbug on the way and antibiotics will soon be redundant. Scary stuff.  Ha. Maybe I can find something in the Parawerhtan to fix it. Yeah. Raymond the hero! I can see the headlines now plastered all over the world news. Sure. It’s more likely to be the other way around. Raymond the half wit! Maybe by leaving that gateway open I’ll clear the way for something much worse, something that might make a superbug look like as deadly as a summer cold.

This thing… Wait. Calling it a ‘thing’ is no good. It only creates distance. It says its name is Armbranch, and I’m going to call him that. It makes a certain, twisted kind of sense. Its limbs, especially the new one, do look like branches. Earlier I noticed what looked like stubby fingers sprouting at the tip of the growth. Its strength is growing fast. He can walk now. (I know it’s a he because he told me.) I led it up the tunnel to show it the remains of the skeleton. It used its remaining strength to do a vicious, stamping dance on those bones. I let it be. Who was I to stop it?

It told me that they were the remains of a sly, ambitious beast called a Basilod. Something unexpected occurred when it was sealed up here. It metamorphesized into what Armbranch called ‘a second level creature’. He says it’s a spirit thing with no need for a pure body anymore.

Is that what dragged Maya down here? It must be. And I don’t think Armbranch is referring to any ghost. No. He says that only powerful magicians can metamorphosize to the second level. He can’t explain how the change took place. The Basilod was an opportunist. It couldn’t have learned how to do that. Now it’s loose.

Armbranch was so exhausted after his ‘hate’ dance, I had to help him back to the barricade. I recognise that look in his eyes now. It’s not simply hatred. The fires of revenge are simmering in there, too.

But revenge on whom? That’s what troubles me.

I can’t help thinking that when that second hand fully grows, he’d happily wrap both of them around my throat.

Spent most of the last night holding Maya and telling her what I found. She looks peaceful and I’d swear my words did some good because, occasionally, I though I heard a little sigh. Perhaps it was some automatic, inner part of her making the sound. Or perhaps it was just the way I was holding her. Either way, I don’t care. She’s alive. That’s all that counts. Yes. Alive. And soon she’ll be awake.

This blog has taken on a new, more significant meaning. I’m writing it for her now. Everything’s for her. When she wakes, we’ll go through it together and I’ll explain everything that happened.

Yes. When she wakes.

The creature slept all through the night. I haven’t tied it up. I don’t need to. It’s too weak to go anywhere. I’ve put a blanket under it although I’ve no idea if it’ll make it more comfortable or not. If it doesn’t, at least it might recognise I’m trying to help it. I’m watching it through the exit webcam right now. It’s a surreal experience, like watching some insane Big Brother show.

What am I going to do with it? I haven’t a clue. After hearing what it said about this Envelop, I guess I should be thankful it attacked me. If it hadn’t, I might be dead already.

That’s if what it said about the jungle is true, of course.

Oddly, I’m beginning to feel safer and more at home down here than I ever remember feeling up top. I guess my mind is drawing on some animal instinct to make me feel that way, to cushion the reality for a while. If so, I’m glad of it.

Uh oh. Must go. It’s waking up again.

It told me some more about this Envelop Plantagen. The whole thing is some kind of… I don’t know. Security system is probably the simplest way to describe it. Yes, some kind of natural forming security system. It was planted there amid virgin jungle shortly after the gateway last closed. It’s full of traps. Natural traps. It says there are beasts out there, too. They’ve moved off since the forest started to die. I had a bit of trouble believing it. If this Envelop is as potent as he claims, how does a simple poison destroy it?

It didn’t like that question. Its whole face scrunched up so tight I thought it was having a seizure. The poison, it said, was an abnormality, a thing formed in this no man’s land tunnel between our world and theirs.

The strength in its words left me in no doubt it blamed me for all this. I’ve got to be wary of it. I want to ask it again about Maya. I can’t. I don’t feel ready. It wants to see the bones. And I want it to see them. It won’t happen today. It’s still too weak to get up.

When I finally asked it about Keyes it just shook it’s head and said nothing.

Creature slept for another twenty one hours. It’s awake again. It’s hard to keep watch on it all the time. That arm is growing fast and every time it cracks open its eyes that orange seems a little brighter and stronger.

That look is still there, though. That same look of hatred. It’s unnerving. I can’t bring myself to tie it up. All this is my fault. Now it’s my responsibility. And I don’t sense any immediate threat from it. It even took an apple from me earlier, and swallowed the thing whole. Every time I touch the gun, it flinches in a stiff, pathetic way.

Tie it up? I can’t. Besides, there’s only one full arm to tie. The other is still a… branch, or whatever.

I wish it would stop staring.

Went outside earlier. Had to get out. Had to breathe some fresh air again. It was a pleasant distraction. Even if it was cloudy, it was so warm I almost felt like going for a swim. I took a shower instead. I didn’t want to stay outside for too long. Someone might show up, and we’re supposed to be in France. It was tempting, though, to take a drive to Ballybrack and stock up on whiskey. All the Bushmills is gone. There’s only Jameson and Famous Grouse left, and I’m not gone on them. Good with a mixer, but a bit raw on my throat on their own.

I resisted the temptation. I can’t afford to drink. Not whiskey anyway –especially with that thing down there. If I need something to relax me I’ll take a Guinness or a Bud. There’s a few left in the fridge.

The thing is sleeping again. I managed to coax some information from it before it fell unconscious. The conversation only lasted a few minutes. Yet it was easily the longest conversation of my life. In fact, though the creature fell asleep twenty minutes ago, I feel like I’m still in that conversation, still juggling around every sentence, word, and letter, in my head to try and make sense of them.

It didn’t tell me much. When I asked if it could cure the sick, it just stared blankly at me. I said no more. No matter how much I want to bring it to Maya, I need to find out more first. It told me about the jungle, said that something called an Envelop Plantagen had been deliberately planted outside to ensure nothing reached the gateway from their side. It said that the last time the gateway was sealed a beast was trapped in the tunnel. Judging how its voice deepened when it said this, I figure that beast was something bad. It’s eyes flared when I mentioned the skeleton I found.  It told me that when the beast was sealed in here its flesh rotted and turned to a poison dust. That’s what poisoned the forest. The instant the gateway was opened, the dust swept out and infected everything.

So I did cause all this. It’s the one thing I didn’t want to write but felt I had to. No matter how I dress things up by blaming the vet or O’Heir for pushing us into this mess, I caused all this. My curiosity. My naivety. My selfishness.

Maya’s condition is my fault.

Once again, this blog is a lifesaver, an anchor to reality. Seeing these words on screen makes all this so very real. I don’t know if I want the creature to wake again. I don’t know if I want to hear more.

It woke up an hour ago. It happened so suddenly I almost shot it again. One minute it was mewling, the next those eyes were open and staring at me. It didn’t move. It just sat there, staring, taking short, wheezing breaths. All I could do was stare back for about a minute before I got the courage to hand it an apple. I’d gathered some fruit and nuts from upstairs earlier. Good, natural things, I thought. It didn’t take the apple. Just kept staring. It refused a walnut and a pear, too. The only interest it showed was in the dried dates. It sniffed them once before tossing them back to me.

It’s weak, barely able to keep its eyes open. When I gave it some water, most of it spilled down onto that log body and was immediately absorbed. Fascination is overruling my tiredness. I couldn’t help thinking that that stumpy arm could do with watering, too.

Another short standoff followed. When I gestured towards its arm and asked if it was all right, it nodded. And it was like something inside me, some weight in my mind, had eased.  It’s eyes narrowed into orange pinpricks when I spoke. There’s something in there, something innately human.

I think it’s hatred?

I’ve been watching out all day but I haven’t seen a single thing in the jungle. Its dark out there now; but I won’t use the night vision. To be honest, I’m too afraid of what I might see. I’m sure my mind will play tricks on me. Im so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open and if I imagine I see things out there I’ll either flee or start blasting away like a madman. Can’t risk it. Got to get some sleep. So tired i can hadly put two words together.

I’ve been watching it most of the night. That arm is growing fast and every now and then the creature makes a faint mewling sound. I say faint, but in here it sounds really, really loud. Its eyes occasionally flicker, too, like it’s trying to wake.

Sun’s rising now. Can’t help wondering if there are more of these things out there. There must be. That forest is huge, and that’s only the part I saw from the hill.

What happens if they discover where their friend is? Will they try and rescue it? I hope not. I don’t want to shoot any more.

Can’t tie it up. No. The more I look at it, the more my conscience grows about shooting it.  But I had to. I really had to. Otherwise it could have got me.

Maybe it’s a mistake to wait until it wakes before deciding whether to secure it or not. If so, I’ll deal with that when the time comes.

Something amazing is happening. A new arm broke through the scab a few hours ago. Right now, it’s more like a sapling than a limb. But I’m sure it’s going to keep growing. It’s about three inches long already, and growing fast. At this rate it’ll have a new arm in about two days.

Perhaps it’s time I tied this thing up. Who knows what might happen when it wakes.

Impossible as it sounds, I did sleep for a while last night. I suppose it was nothing more than sheer exhaustion. Felt better when I woke. I even left the creature and sat with Maya for a while. Though the creature’s still unconscious, the most remarkable thing is happening. When I removed the towel the sap had hardened into an amber scab. It’s healing. No, not just healing, it’s growing. Tiny root like growths are pushing out around the edges of the scab. They’re a fresh, bright green, and as thin as threads. Could it be healing itself so fast? Is it healing itself at all?

What’s the next step?

I don’t know. One thing’s for sure. I’m not bringing it near Maya –not yet anyway. Nor will I bring it upstairs. Anything could happen if it’s removed from the outer tunnel. What if it escaped? What if it spread some infection? What if I’m infected already?

What if? What if? What if?

This whole thing has turned into one big What If?

Time to eat now. I’m starving. In a way it’s almost a relief that this things is here. Perhaps I won’t have to go any deeper into the jungle if it can help Maya. Yes. Maybe it’ll help her. Then I’ll send it on its way with gratitude, seal the tunnels, and smash the machine to pieces. It’s a great plan. It’s also a great fantasy.

Things don’t work out so easily. They never do.

Thing’s been asleep all day. I’m starving. I’ve been afraid to take my eyes off it but now I’ve got to try and sleep. Exhausted. Checked on Maya a few minutes ago. No change.

A dream! All this is a dream. Has to be. Otherwise I’m surely insane. Have I gone schizophrenic? Is this some lunatic mind trip I’m seeing from the comfort of a padded cell or the confines of a straitjacket? No. It’s not madness. It can’t be. I saw the thing. I captured the thing. It’s right here beside me now. We’re just inside the barricade and that’s as far as I’m taking it.

It’s been the longest night of my life, much worse than the time a drunk crashed into me on the N1 outside Drogheda and I was trapped in the car for two hours before the fire crew cut me free. That was a party compared to this. Even now, five hours after I caught it, I’m still trembling so much I can barely type. The thing’s unconscious. I hope it stays that way, at least for now. It tricked me. The instant I reached the edge of the jungle, the whining stopped. Seconds later it sprang at me from a tree. I barely had time to raise the gun and fire. It was a lucky shot. I know that. Another second and…

God how it screamed? I can still here that sound, hear it like the echo is still out there bouncing around the tree trunks. When it darted into the woods, I didn’t hesitate going after it. A blood lust was up. Finally, after all I’d been through, I had something in my sights, something I could take out my frustrations on. It felt really, really good to hunt it.

But not for long.

I found it about twenty yards in, scrabbling at the base of a tree like it was trying to climb. My hatred drained away instantly. One of its arms was gone, shattered below the elbow. Although calling it an arm is… well, kind of like calling a dog a cat. Apart from the fingers and toes, its limbs resembled branches. In fact the whole creature looked like some kind of crazy puppet carving. If its torso hadn’t heaved as it gasped for breath, I’d have sworn it was a log. And it’s head. How can I describe that? Even sitting so close to it now, it’s hard to make out what it is. It’s about the size of a fat coconut and so brown in places it reminded me of the badness outside.

I couldn’t shoot it when I found it. I couldn’t do anything except stare. It has orange eyes. Big, wide, orange eyes that sit in its face like pools of fading sunlight. That face looks so humanlike: so young and yet so very old.

How could I shoot something like that? How could I hate something like that?

It started gabbling nonsense when I got closer. It’s eyes narrowed when it heard my voice. Moments later it replied in English, an old dialect full of ‘ye’s and thee’s’  that was hard to understand. It muttered something about destroying the forest. Then it passed out and I carried it back here. What else could I do? I hope it doesn’t die. I really hope it doesn’t die. It could know how to help Maya.

What next? I don’t know. There’s some kind of yellow sap oozing out from the stump of its arm. It seems to be hardening, sealing up the wound. I wrapped it with a towel anyway. If only I could wake Maya. If only I could show her this thing.

Maybe she’ll be back with me soon.

Can’t bear that whining any more. It’s in pain. It must be. Time to turn on my headlamp and go out there. Can’t listen any more. Have to see what it is. Otherwise I’ll hide in here forever.

Shortly after nightfall the thing returned. Or perhaps it was there all along, watching and waiting for dusk to cloak it. I only caught a few fleeting glances every now and then, but that whining is there all the time. It’s impossible to pin down any location. It seems to be coming from everywhere all at once, like it’s somehow echoing off every dead leaf and branch outside. Is it a confusing tactic, or perhaps a warning to stay away? I don’t think so. The sound is getting worse by the hour. And it’s really hard to listen to. It sounds like it’s in pain. Maybe it’s dying, like the forest.

Maybe it needs help.