by Otto Schafer
But on this day both Breanne and Gabi had a breakthrough. It was early morning, just after waking. Breanne had just crawled from her bed of moss and washed her face in the shallow pool when the idea hit her. She needed to ask Gabi to try something, but she had to be careful how she asked.
Gabi, she said, sitting back down on the soft foliage bedding, any luck with El Tule?
No, Gabi answered, stretching. And he has to be tired of hearing me say his name over and over. I have tried it in every tone I can think of. I have even yelled it. And I know he hears me too. I can feel it. I have asked him a hundred questions, but he never answers.
But have you tried talking to him? Breanne asked.
That’s what I said. I have been talking and talking, but nothing.
Tell him a story, Gabi, Breanne suggested.
Like what kind of story? Gabi asked with a frown.
Carefully, Breanne said, Maybe tell him about how your mom and dad took you to see him. Then maybe tell him about the dragons?
Gabi stared at her for a long moment, her brow fixed in a crease.
It might be good to talk about it, Gabi. I won’t listen, I promise. We can close our minds.
I’ll think about it, she said, but a few minutes later she started talking and she didn’t stop. She didn’t close her mind either, and after some time she started crying. Even so, she didn’t stop. She pushed through and once again Breanne felt her pain turn to rage as the story progressed through the underground pyramid, the death of her parents by Azazel, and Ogliosh’s betrayal.
When the story was over, Gabi had poured out everything and sat quietly sobbing. Breanne moved to comfort her but before she could put her arm around the girl, Gabi looked up, eyes going wide. She wiped her sleeve across her eyes and said, Yes! They are the worst thing this world has ever seen.
Breanne froze in place. Is it El Tule?
Gabi nodded and reached for Breanne’s hand.
Instantly, Breanne was aware of another’s presence, huge and imposing, confirmed a second later by a deep baritone voice as big as the tree itself.
The worst, yes. Wicked are dragons, little lion! Wicked too are nephilbock! Neither belongs here, El Tule said.
I will kill the dragon who killed my family! Gabi said, her voice quaking with rage.
When El Tule didn’t answer for a long time, Gabi tried again. They will burn the trees too. But I will kill her.
Still nothing. But this had been something. El Tule spoke, and that was a win – the first win of the day. Less than an hour later came the second.
Jurupa turned from her frozen position at the front of the platform and approached, stopping in front of Gabi to ask her twice-daily question, “Gabriela De Leon, does your survival require anything further?”
“No,” Gabi said.
“Breanne Moore, does your survival require anything further?”
“You were something else before this,” she said accusingly. “Whatever it was, you couldn’t shape-shift – you couldn’t even walk.”
“Very well, Breanne Moore,” Jurupa said, turning to leave.
“I’m the only reason you can walk,” Breanne said to the woman’s back.
Jurupa continued to leave.
To hell with patience. Sorry, Dad, but sometimes you need a bulldozer! she thought as she continued to work her mouth at Jurupa’s back. “I’m the only reason you can talk. In fact, if it weren’t for me you would be a dumb tree, or bush, or whatever the hell you were before I freed you,” she said, crossing her arms.
Jurupa froze. Slowly her head turned, revealing a contemptuous visage.
“That’s right. You exist because of me and my family. If we hadn’t found the God Stones, they’d still be at the bottom of Oak Island, and you’d still be stuck in the same place you spent the last hundred years!”
Jurupa’s eyes narrowed as she turned to face Breanne. “Thirteen thousand years, Breanne Moore.”
“That’s not possible! Nothing lives that long,” she said.
“I was what your kind call a cloning tree. Specifically, a clonal Palmer’s oak from the Jurupa Mountains in California. Your kind has studied me extensively, as I am one of the oldest living beings on the planet!” She lifted her hand and pointed a condemning finger. “You have not been alive a single day compared to my existence. And now, under the power of the God Stones, ancient cloning life forms such as I have the ability to not only talk and walk but to shape-shift and touch the Sentheye. This is why I can take on any form I like,” Jurupa said, stepping close to Breanne and bending down to meet her eyes. “Now, you say I owe you for my abilities. I owe you for freeing me?” Jurupa shook her head, a look of hate forming on her face unlike anything Breanne had ever seen. She poked a woody finger into Breanne’s chest. “But I say, what do you owe me, Breanne Moore? What do you owe me for the genocide of my kind?” She stood back up to her full height.
Breanne squinted and clenched her jaw, bracing for the blow. But the strike didn’t come.
Jurupa looked down upon her with deepening disgust. “Well, that is what we are going to find out. What is the debt due? What is to be justice for my kind?”
Breanne scrambled for a question. “There are others like you then? Are they even older?” What she really wanted to ask was how many there were, but that was too obvious.
“My queen is the oldest living thing on this planet. Save your questions for her,” Jurupa said as she spun sharply and marched away.
Breanne’s heart thudded as her mind raced with new information. A cloning tree, thirteen thousand years old – and still not the oldest. The queen is the oldest. This was definitely a win. But their destination was clearly not a win. They were being taken to the queen for judgment – to learn what the debt owed would be. She didn’t have to analyze too deep to know why her – and why Gabi. It was simple. They were the sages to the descendant of Turek. Her heart filled with dread. This wasn’t to be a meeting at all. It was to be a trial. Oh god, she’d had Gabi pledge herself to Garrett to save her, but in doing so, had she unwittingly sentenced her to death?
Breanne looked over at Gabi. What had she done?
Another three days passed with no additional information from either El Tule or Jurupa. Breanne tried to goad Jurupa into a conversation, but even insults failed to work. Each communication only ended in the same monotone reply. “Very well, Breanne Moore.”
Meanwhile, Breanne busied herself trying to see the future by intention rather than accident. She had touched it in the hut with Gabi when she thought she saw Garrett being crushed to death, and as horrible as the glimpse had been, she wanted to find a way to see it again. If she could, maybe she could help change it. Besides, other than trying to pick a fight with Jurupa a couple times a day, she had nothing else to do. She and Gabi talked and practiced telepathy on each other, but Gabi was also busy with the tree language and had taken to telling El Tule stories: everything from dig sites she had been on to stories about her mom and dad and Sarah too. She kept her mind open and Breanne often sat, listening to the stories. Sometimes Breanne chimed in, telling stories about Sarah. Gabi said El Tule could hear her too, but Breanne wasn’t so sure.
Often the stories left her thinking about her own family and her time with Sarah. She wondered how the woman was faring. It had been seven days total since they had been traveling as prisoners on El Tule, and nine days since they had seen Sarah. She wasn’t sure where they were, but she was sure they had left Mexico far behind.
Then came the major breakthrough.
Breanne?
Yes, Gabi?
I understand their language!
What? Really! How? Are you sure?
Yes! Gabi said excitedly. I don’t know! I’ve been listening to this strange gibberish for days, and suddenly it just clicked! One word and then another. A few minutes ago, when we stopped, Jurupa reported we are two days out. Then I heard another woman say they would also arrive with Garrett Turek and the other sages on the same day! Then
I heard a really strange voice say, “I’m very pleased with you, my children. Time is of the essence.”
Breanne sat back, her mind racing, a mix of excitement and dread filling her all at once. She would see Garrett and her brothers in two days!
She wondered too what was meant by the words time is of the essence?
30
The Eyra of Tunga
Thursday, April 21 – God Stones Day 15
Somewhere in Missouri
Garrett sat alone, listening to the constant stretching and twisting of tree fiber as they groaned relentlessly forward, like a pack of wooden zombies. How many trees there were, he couldn’t say. A dozen? Two dozen? His mind no longer raced through all that had happened or tried to figure out what was going to happen next. Instead, his thoughts settled on Breanne and stayed with her the rest of his restless night.
The sun had still yet to rise when David sprang from his sleep as if kicked, startling Garrett back into the moment. The kid lurched upright from a dead sleep and shouted, “God! Please! No! Get away from…”
“David, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Garrett said.
“Oh my god, dude! You wouldn’t believe the nightmare I just had!” David started.
“I don’t know, David. Can it be much worse than reality?”
“Yeah… it can. I dreamt a lot of that racket coming from the trees was actually words. Then all of a sudden my leg catches on fire. How long was I out?”
“Probably five or six hours since I woke up, but since then, everyone else fell out. I think the sun will be up soon. Hey, David?” Garrett asked.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for healing me. I think I was bleeding on my insides.”
“Yuck, and you’re welcome. Hey, did you hear that?” David asked, looking down.
Garrett sat up and listened. There was a constant dragging sound that Garrett could feel as much as hear through the floor, but that had been there the whole time. He didn’t hear anything new. “I don’t hear anything.”
“It’s my stomach. It’s going crazy! God, I’m so hungry,” David said.
Garrett relaxed back against the cell wall and smiled. Despite everything, he was glad David was here. But he wasn’t sure how the kid could have an appetite with everything going on. Now that he thought about it, though, his own stomach was growling with protest, letting him know he hadn’t eaten. “David, we need to figure out how we’re going to get out of this.”
“Yeah, we can’t stay in here for days, or we’ll starve for sure,” David said gravely.
Soon, an infant sun breached some distant horizon, giving shape to the darkness beyond their basket. Only grey shapes at first, but as the light penetrated, Garrett saw them for what they were, not mindless zombies. What he saw now were giants in motion, moving in concert as one group. No, not a group, something far worse than a group. This was an army moving with planned precision. The sun, no longer a new babe, became a toddler, and Garrett watched as the impossible army pressed ever forward, their roots churning the earth, a hidden purpose driving them to an end still veiled.
Near as Garrett could tell, their captor had positioned the wicker prison high above the ground between the canopies of four massive oak trees. Long, braided tree branches stretched from the top of their intricately woven cell to each of the four trees. The braided branches were clearly what secured their basket in place. Garrett stood and made his way around the edge, discovering that four more braided branches stretched from the bottom of the basket in the same fashion. This must be how their prison stayed so stable – four from the top and four more from the bottom. Now that he could see the forest floor, he realized they were moving faster than he’d thought. Not as fast as his bikes could go, but at least at the pace of a fast run. He also realized they were way too high to jump down. He began inspecting the diamond-patterned walls in an effort to find the door, but there didn’t seem to be one.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Paul said, rubbing a hand across his stubbly face and stretching. “Lenny and I already scaled it all the way to the top. This place is solid. And I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re being watched.”
Garrett followed Paul’s gaze over to one of the trees and sure enough, Governess was there watching them. Seeming to notice she was being watched, Governess uncrossed her arms and walked out onto one of the braided branches. In a display of effortless balance, the tree woman navigated the braided branch like a tightrope walker, never taking her eyes off Garrett.
When she reached the cell, she placed her hand on one of the small diamond-shaped openings. The small diamond lit up in a glow of green. The limbs writhed and changed shape, withdrawing until all the small diamonds were replaced with one large enough for Governess to step through. “Good, you are awake, Garrett Turek.”
Garrett stood and stepped toward Governess, drawing up short when he felt the blade touch his throat. He lifted his chin and pressed his throat into her blade. “Go ahead! Do it! You said you were supposed to take us alive, but you killed our friend!”
“No, Garrett Turek. You killed your friend. I said I was to bring the sages unharmed – if possible. Your friend had not pledged himself to you and thus was expendable.”
Paul lunged forward. “He was my brother!”
Garrett couldn’t follow Governess’s speed, but he followed the blur of motion well enough to see she threw punches and kicks that didn’t follow the laws of human physics. Legs and arms couldn’t bend in the directions hers were bending, and yet they were. Paul grunted and spun through the air, landing hard on his back and expelling all his air in a loud umph.
“I do not wish to kill your sages, Garrett Turek – at least not now. However, I will hurt them as severely as I deem necessary if they do not obey. If you wish they remain unharmed on this journey, you would be wise to order them to comply.”
“Where are we going?” Garrett asked.
“I have already told you, my queen requests an audience with you,” she said, still holding the sword to his throat.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Barring further unforeseen circumstances, we should arrive seven days hence.”
“Also, not what I asked,” Garrett repeated.
“We are traveling west. You will know we are there when we arrive. I have entered your quarters to prepare them for travel and ensure you have what you need for the journey. If you or your sages attack me again, I will break the legs of your healer.”
“What?!” David shouted, his face draining of blood.
Paul was back on his feet, and both Lenny and Pete stood by Garrett’s side now.
“You hurt one hair on his head, and you will have to kill all of us!” Garrett said.
“Foolish boy, you are not in control. Shall I begin breaking bones to prove my point?”
David’s terrified eyes went saucer-wide, and he looked as though he might get sick.
“No! No one will try to attack you,” Garrett said, holding his hand out toward Paul.
Paul grimaced at the tree woman, but he gave a slight nod. “Fine, but this isn’t over. Not by a long shot!”
“Wise decision, young lord,” she said with too much enthusiasm. “Now, what do you need to survive the journey ahead?”
“We need a bathroom,” Pete said, fidgeting from one foot to the other. “Like soon.”
Governess turned. “Fine. Let us start with that,” she said, speaking a strange word of power as the wall of diamond-shaped limbs began to glow green and change, growing inward, twisting and turning. A moment later, a small room formed around a stumpy structure, hollowed in the middle. On one wall, their new bathroom grew thick with foliage. “To clean your nasty backsides, young lords.” She drew in an exaggerated breath. “Next?”
Garrett frowned, wondering at her demeanor. Trees didn’t breathe, did they? At least not like that – not like humans did. Everything she showed them was just that – a show. They were seeing what she wanted them to see. Next to him,
David found his voice and shouted, pulling Garrett back into the moment for the second time this morning.
“We need food! We can’t be expected to live in this place with nothing to eat!” David announced, stepping forward to face Governess.
Garrett exchanged looks with Lenny and Pete, surprised by David’s newfound bravery. Normally David would be scared half to death, but now he lifted his chin, stoic in his defiance.
Garrett was sure he caught a look of pride hidden beneath Lenny’s smirk as David stepped even closer now, jutting his finger toward Governess’s face. “We already lost the snack truck thanks to you and the dragons! What are we supposed to do for food is what I want to know!”
“Ah, yes. Valid concerns from the little chubby one! We would not want you to go hungry.” Governess nodded behind David and waved her hand once again, and soon various fruits and nuts were ripening on thick vines that grew up the wall of the prison, weaving in and out of the diamond-shaped holes.
Near the vines, the wicker floor stretched and dipped, then filled with water that seemed to leach in from the sides, forming a pool. On the side of the pool grew thick bushes with bulbous fruits or maybe vegetables that weren’t like anything Garrett had ever seen before.
David frowned, walking toward one of the now-drooping vines. He pulled a large piece of reddish-purple fruit loose and examined it. “I don’t think I like your tone, lady, and how do I know this isn’t poisonous?”
“Well,” Governess said, clasping her hands, “I am confident even your small brain can deduce how incredibly nonsensical it would be to go through this trouble to capture you and imprison you, only to poison you, can you not?”
“Can I not what?” David asked skeptically.
“They’re okay to eat, David,” Pete said, pulling a piece from the vine for himself.
“Okay, but I still don’t like her tone.” David bit a chunk out of the strange fruit.
