by Edith Pattou
"I don't understand it," she said upon returning from her last effort. "It is as if the forest wants to keep us here. I know it sounds foolish..."
Talisen was nodding. "No, I feel it, too. Like some evil spirit is watching us."
"We will find our way out," said Brie, abruptly getting to her feet. She glanced at Collun, who was awake and had been listening to their exchange. He struggled to sit up.
"We must go on," he said. "If ... the forest ... is closing in on us ... we have to go somewhere ... anywhere."
And so, not long after, they set forth. Without the path to guide them, Brie could only guess at the right direction. Talisen, Silien, and Brie took turns lending a shoulder for Collun to lean on as he limped along.
The forest seemed to get even denser as they moved forward. The gloom about them deepened.
They all felt unnaturally weary and stopped frequently, sinking to the ground with strength enough only to breathe. Collun was close to delirium. He slept at each stop and often woke sweating and wild-eyed, as if from a nightmare. They had filled every bag they had with water from Silien's dying brook, and they tried to conserve it, giving most to Collun.
Because it became almost impossible to distinguish day from night, they lost track of time, though Brie estimated that it had been four days since the attack of the boar. And still they could not find the path.
Then came a terrible moment. Brie abruptly stopped short with a sharp sound of dismay.
"What? What is it?" asked Talisen.
"We have passed this tree before. Yesterday. Or the day before. I can't remember." Brie pointed at a tree with an unusual bole that curved in the shape of a question mark. She dropped to her knees in exhaustion.
"You mean ... we've been going in circles?" Talisen moaned and leaned heavily against the tree. Silien gently lowered Collun to the ground, where the wounded boy promptly fell into a restless slumber.
"He cannot go much farther," the Ellyl said.
"None of us can," Brie answered. Listlessly they made camp. They were down to their last drops of water and had long since run out of food, subsisting on the few edible nuts and berries they were able to find.
"Lend me your harp, Talisen. Perhaps I can cheer us." The Ellyl held out his hand, and Talisen silently passed his harp to Silien.
Talisen asked dully, as though he could not remember why it was important, "You will sing an Ellyl song?"
Silien did not answer, but began to finger the harp strings. Beneath his hands the harmonies that shimmered forth were not like music as they knew it. The notes the Ellyl found were crystalline and pure, so pure they even penetrated the mande of musty gloom that had oppressed them ever since they had entered the Forest of Eld.
Brie and Talisen both fell asleep.
The music wove its way into Collun's dreams. He was in a meadow back in Inkberrow. The tall grass brushed against his fingertips as he walked. A fresh breeze feathered his face, and there were purple wildflowers as far as the eye could see.
Silien sang on.
***
Abruptly Collun awoke. He saw that Talisen and Brie were just waking as well. Silien was watching them with his usual half-smile. His fingers were resting lightly on the harp strings.
"What did you do?" Brie's voice was sharp with suspicion.
"You needed sleep. Restful sleep. Do you not feel better for it?"
And Brie admitted she did. "I feel as though I have slept for days," she said in wonder.
"It was only several moments," replied Silien.
"You are a miracle worker, Silien," Talisen said. "But why didn't you do this before?"
"It takes much away from me," replied the Ellyl. "I keep that song as a last resort." And indeed Silien's face looked drawn and pale, as though the song had weakened him as much as it had strengthened them.
Collun saw that Brie was gazing at the Ellyl with a puzzled expression. He sensed she was confused by Silien—his coldness one moment and generosity the next.
"How do you feel, Collun?" asked Talisen.
"Better," he replied, though his leg still throbbed and his skin was hot.
"I'm afraid it will not last, but for a while the going will be a little easier," Silien said.
"Well, that's all very well and good," grumbled Talisen, "but I don't appreciate you knocking me out. I missed all the words to your song!"
"You would not have understood them," Silien responded. "I do not use words as you do."
They set out shortly after and made much better progress. But toward what, they knew not.
NINE
Crann
They had been walking a short distance when Brie abruptly stopped. "What was that?" she said.
"What was what?" asked Talisen.
"It was a flash of something—light, I think, only it was green..." She trailed off. "At least, I thought—" Her eyes stared ahead into the murk of the forest. "Yes, there it was again!"
The others peered in the same direction.
"I don't see anything," said Talisen.
"Nor I," Silien agreed, his voice soft with exhaustion.
"It was like the flicker of candlelight. And it was moving. I believe we should follow it," she announced unexpectedly.
"Follow it?" Talisen said. "Have you lost your wits? The rest of us can't even see the bloody—Oh!"
"You see it now?"
Talisen nodded slowly. "A will-o'-the-wisp," he murmured. "Brie, we cannot follow a will-o'-the-wisp. Surely you've heard tales of Gyl Burnt-tayle and how it leads travelers astray? We'd be certain to spend the rest of our days in the Forest of Eld were we to follow such a thing."
"I don't believe in superstitious tales," said Brie. "Nor do I believe it to be a will-o'-the-wisp. It is moving farther away. Come, or we'll lose it."
Talisen shook his head firmly. "I'll not be following Gyl Burnt-tayle..."
Collun listened to the two voices arguing back and forth, his eyes fixed on the irregular flashes of green light. Silien was sitting cross-legged beside Collun, his eyes closed.
"Let us follow the light," Collun said. He moved forward. Brie quickly stepped into the lead. Talisen helped Silien to his feet and, grumbling loudly to himself, fell in step with the other two. Fara brought up the rear.
So intent were they on keeping the elusive light in sight that they did not notice at first that the trees were thinning. But suddenly Talisen stopped dead in his tracks and, letting out an exclamation, pointed upward. They all looked up and through the branches of the trees, saw a patch of night sky. They had not seen' the sky in days, or was it weeks? Collun no longer knew.
"We must be near the end of this blasted wood," said Talisen with a broad smile. "My apologies for doubting you and kindly old Gyl Burnt-tayle," he said to Brie, with a small courtly bow in her direction.
"I cannot see it anymore," said Brie, squinting at the trees ahead.
"Who cares? It has served us well. Come, on to Temair," Talisen said, putting an arm out to Silien, who was leaning against a tree.
As if to punctuate Talisen's words, a linnet somewhere nearby burst into song. The last time any of them had seen or heard a bird was the scald-crow Collun saw when they entered the Forest of Eld.
Through the fog of his fever, Collun felt a piercing burst of joy. To finally be free of this wretched forest! But his ears rang with a high-pitched buzzing sound, and his leg still throbbed. It took all his concentration just to set one foot ahead of the other. He paused for a moment to rest his leg, and his eye was caught by a small red finch winging to the top of a nearby tree. Unexpectedly Collun saw a flash of light in the night sky above. It was a different kind of light than the will-o'- the-wisp: a white angular thrust. Brie came up beside him.
"Do you need to rest?" she asked.
Collun shook his head then pointed to the sky. Brie looked up.
"Lightning," she said, with a puzzled look. "But I don't feel rain in the air. It must be far away."
A slight wind began to play
with the dried leaves around their feet. The night air felt cool on Collun's hot skin.
Talisen noisily inhaled, then laughed. "I never thought I'd feel this way about a breath of fresh air.
Why, it tastes better than a mug of Job Wall's finest ale."
They pushed forward eagerly, unmindful of the far-off flashes in the sky above them.
Then suddenly, without any warning, a jagged splinter of light seared their eyes, and a dry thorn tree not twenty paces ahead of Silien was transformed into a pillar of hissing, leaping flame.
The tail end of a purple-white bolt of lightning shimmered through the flaming tree. Intense heat beat against the travelers' faces, and caustic smoke filled their mouths and noses.
Brie wrenched Collun's arm, pulling him back. They all began to run, retracing their steps into the forest. But the light breeze they had noticed earlier abruptly changed into a swirling, spinning maelstrom of wind that carried flame from tree to tree in the blink of an eye.
Before they knew it, a wall of fire was twisting around them in all directions. The dried leaves swirling up from the forest floor became flying motes of flame, like giant fireflies.
They kept running, trying to find a pathway through the fire wall as sparks rained down on them. An airborne ember scorched the hair on the right side of Collun's head. As they lurched one way and then another, they found they were trapped by a sea of flame rising up on all sides around them. They huddled together.
Suddenly Collun spotted something beyond the fire, something tall and green. For a moment he thought it was a tree that had somehow escaped the conflagration. But as he looked closer he saw that it was a man wearing a green cloak. The cloak billowed around his gaunt frame as the wind buffeted him. A gum tree nearby flared up with brilliant flame, and in the blinding light, Collun saw the man's face. He was an old man with a long, moon white beard, and his skin was deeply lined.
Collun had seen that face somewhere before. But where? Then a glowing cinder landed on his arm, and he had to beat at it frantically to keep from catching fire. When he looked back, he saw the old man had raised his arms above his head, one hand holding a long piece of wood, the other hand with the fingers splayed wide open.
The man's eyes were now closed, and he seemed to be concentrating deeply. His lips were moving, but Collun could not hear what he said. Then the green figure shouted at the top of his voice, "Muchtoir lasair!"
There was silence, then he cried out, "Fearthainne!"
And in that moment a drenching, powerful rain began to fall.
Collun and his companions looked at each other in wonder as great drops of water washed over their blackened faces and clothing. Huge billows of steam rose around them.
It was not long before the flames were completely extinguished and all they could hear was the hissing of damp, smoldering wood and the sound of the raindrops.
Collun's eyes were still on the old man, who had dropped his arms heavily to his sides. For a moment his body sagged. He looked ancient and ill.
But then his shoulders slowly straightened, and he stood erect again. His eyes looked directly into Collun's.
The kesil.
This figure in the green cloak was the wild man of the forest who had come into Collun's garden and told him he must leave Aonarach. Except that now his beard was smooth and untangled, and his cloak was clean and made of thick, rich cloth.
With an abrupt gesture the old man beckoned to Collun.
"He wants us to follow him," Collun said in a weak voice. The kesil had turned and was walking away from them with long, purposeful strides. Limping, Collun followed.
Brie, Talisen, and Silien exchanged glances, then fell into step behind Collun. Fara trotted along beside Brie.
They gingerly made their way through the twisted and blackened skeletons of burnt trees, their feet squelching through the soggy layers of ash and charred wood. Puffs of smoke wafted about their ankles.
They came again to the thorn tree that had been struck by lightning. All that remained was a jagged black stump. But not thirty paces beyond the stump the forest was miraculously intact, and were it not for the smell of smoke, they would not have known there had been a fire at all.
The kesil continued to walk. Collun focused all his remaining strength on keeping the green figure in sight. As before, the trees began to thin out. And it was not long before they were out of the Forest of Eld altogether.
Dawn was just breaking, and Collun could feel a faint warmth on his face from the autumn sun.
The old man had stopped at the edge of a large meadow and was waiting for them to catch up.
"Well met, Collun," said the kesil. He crossed to the dazed boy, put his two hands on Collun's shoulders, and peered down at him. He said nothing for a moment, holding his eyes steady on Collun's. Collun could not read the old man's expression, but it had welcome in it, as well as concern.
The kesil spoke. "I see you took my advice and stayed clear of the high road." The corners of his mouth twitched slightly. "Only I might not have strayed into the deepest reaches of the Forest of Eld, were I you."
"A morg and some Scathians were pursuing us. Then there was a boar ... and we lost the path. And the fire..."
"It does not matter. I found you yet. And perhaps some good will come of it."
"That's about as likely as a cuckoo song in January." Talisen stepped forward. "You are the kesil, aren't you? I must say, sir, you are not as I remember you."
The old man smiled and then spoke again to Collun. "You have chosen companions for your journey." He gazed around, lingering longest on the Ellyl and the faol. Then he gave a small nod as though satisfied.
Collun managed a faint smile. "In truth, they chose me."
The old man smiled back. "Even better."
"Who are you?" Talisen interrupted.
The kesil turned his blue eyes on Talisen. "I have had many names. Of late I am called Sen Crannach, but I answer to Crann."
"Crann?" Collun exclaimed. This was the name Emer had spoken. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was overcome by a wave of dizziness. He swayed.
Crann stepped forward, putting out a hand to steady the boy. A trail of blood flowed down Collun's calf. The wound had reopened during the fire. The old man kneeled down and ran his long fingers over the silvery stitches in Collun's leg. "Ellyl stitchery..." he murmured to himself. He glanced up at Silien. "You do good work, though I can see you are young yet, Ellyl."
Collun thought Silien looked somewhat nettled by Crann's words, but the Ellyl said nothing.
"It looks ill. The boar did this?" the old man asked as he took a clean cloth and a small packet from inside his cloak. He rubbed salve on the cloth and held it against the wound. Talisen described the attack by Moccus's sow.
As Talisen spoke, Crann's face seemed almost to visibly age. Collun felt a cold stab of fear. When the old man spoke, his voice was weary beyond measure. "An eyeless boar ... It is what I have feared. She has found a way to unseal the Cave of Cruachan."
He stared at the ground for several moments and then, recalling himself, he set about making a bandage of the cloth, affixing it to Collun's leg with two thin leather thongs. Then he rose to his feet and walked away from them. He supported himself with a long staff made of oak.
Crann stood motionless, looking up at the branches overhead. No one dared to speak.
Finally he turned back toward them and said with a deep sigh, "If it is done, it is done. We will make camp here."
They gathered wood for a fire, and Crann sparked the blaze with such ease Collun thought he must have used magic. He had not seen him use a teine stone.
The old man then passed around small dark blocks. "Here, eat these." Crann smiled. "It is not mysterious, Talisen," he said as he caught the boy eyeing the block with curiosity. "Just honey, grain, and berries."
When they bit into their blocks, the taste was delicious. The sweet flavor of blueberries mingled with honey and cracked wheat. They ate quickly,
thinking it would take many such blocks to make even a dent in their deep hunger; but, surprisingly, they felt full when they had finished just one. The buzzing in Collun's ears lessened, and his skin did not feel as hot.
"Your cloak," said Brie, "it is the same color as the light we followed. Did you send it?"
Crann nodded. "Until I could get to you myself. Although the fire very nearly outpaced me."
"'Twas a narrow squeak, all right," said Talisen. "Are you a wizard?" he asked bluntly, licking the last crumbs from his fingers.
"I have been called so."
"Why do you disguise yourself as a kesil?"
"There are many reasons for disguise." His eyes rested lightly on Brie, and Collun realized that Crann knew her for who she was, too.
"There was a time when it was very nearly true," Crann continued, "when I was lost in madness, like a kesil. But that was long ago. And now, you need rest," said the wizard with a glance at Silien, whose eyes had already closed.
The exhausted travelers needed no further urging and all were soon quickly asleep.
Collun slept deeply for a time, but then his rest became fitful. Finally he rose and limped over to join Crann at the fire. The wizard was preparing a pan of hot chicory, sweetened with honey and apple.
"My mother spoke your name to me," said Collun slowly, as Crann poured him a cup of the steaming beverage.
"I know," the old man replied.
"She said you would explain."
Crann did not speak.
"Why did you come to me in the garden? What do you know of my mother and of Nessa? Why do the scald-crows follow us? And the morg?" Collun's words tumbled over one another.
Crann returned Collun's gaze, unblinking, but again Collun could not read what lay there. "Of your sister I know little except that she is in great danger."
"But she is alive?"
"I cannot be sure, but yes, I believe she is." He paused. "Your mother is very ill."
"More so than when I left?"
The wizard nodded, then spoke again, softly, and it was as if he could read Collun's thoughts. "It would avail you little to return home. Your sister is the one who needs you now."
