by Otto Schafer
Nothing.
I am leaving now, El Tule, but you should stop being afraid of a little human and talk, she said, letting go of Gabi’s hand.
Neither said anything for a moment.
Finally Breanne shrugged and said, At least we tri—
Gabi held up a hand. You don’t like the way she spoke to you? Well, that’s okay. You can just talk to me, El Tule. Gabi held Breanne’s gaze as an excited smile stretched across her face.
Breanne smiled back. Good cop, bad cop. Now go be the good cop, Gabi!
Will you tell me a story, El Tule? Will you tell me what it was like in Oaxaca, thousands of years ago, when you were a kid?
Breanne couldn’t hear El Tule without holding Gabi’s hand, but the look on her face told Breanne that El Tule was talking. The more El Tule spoke, the more information Breanne would have to analyze. This was a huge win. She watched Jurupa, who now had her eyes fixed ahead, having seemingly disregarded El Tule’s outburst of shaking limbs. She thought about what she had learned in that brief conversation with El Tule. Even fixed in place for the last two thousand plus years, he’d witnessed all of humanity’s wrongs against trees. Now she knew for a fact they could share information. But she still wondered in what format they shared it. Was it only through story, or could they share images, or maybe see it in real time? She had so many questions and hoped she could help Gabi ask them in a way that would coax them out of El Tule over the next two days.
Gabi continued to listen to El Tule’s stories late into the night until she fell asleep. Eventually, Breanne woke her and guided her to the shelter so she wouldn’t catch cold. El Tule must not have minded because as soon as they woke the next day, Gabi went right back to talking to him.
Breanne asked Gabi to ask El Tule if he could see images that the other trees could see, and could he share images with them?
A moment later, Gabi began to cry.
What is it?
He is showing me, she said.
Showing you?
Showing me trees being killed! Gabi said.
Tell him to stop! Breanne said.
A moment later, Gabi wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her flannel shirt and said a quiet, Thank you.
Gabi? Are you okay?
He stopped. But those images were so vivid, like I was there, only… only I could hear the tree screaming and begging for its life as it was being cut. It begged others to help but they couldn’t move, and they couldn’t come… She shook her head as if trying to shake the images from her mind.
Gabi, take my hand. She did. El Tule, don’t do that! Don’t show her that!
Why? the tree asked.
She is only a child – she has already seen too much! This is too much!
There was a silence that stretched out too far. Breanne was about to speak when El Tule spoke again. I wish I could spare my children from seeing the reality your kind has created. I wish I could hold all the pain humans have caused inside my own trunk. But, alas, despite my size, I cannot. Despite my age, I cannot. Despite my knowledge… I cannot spare them. I cannot take away their pain. As my people die, I can only give them solace that they will be with Mother Druesha soon.
Mother Druesha? Breanne asked.
Our god.
After that, El Tule told no more stories – in fact, “our god” were the last words he spoke to them. Breanne was sure it upset Gabi, although she tried not to show it. She also knew Gabi was still trying to get the big tree to speak even though she attempted to hide it by waiting until she thought Breanne was asleep. But Breanne heard her late that night, begging El Tule to tell her another story.
Breanne planned to talk to Gabi first thing the next morning, but something had changed. El Tule was no longer walking with the trees. Instead, all the trees had stopped walking and now stood to the side as El Tule made his way forward down a tree-lined path. Hours passed as the big tree dragged itself along through the massive forest.
Finally, in the distance, Breanne saw something. Gabi, do you see that?
They’re beautiful, Gabi said.
What stretched out before them were acres upon acres of white trees covered in bright golden foliage. The mass of trees appeared like a giant pool of golden sunshine filling the entire valley. Breanne and Gabi gasped in unison as the trees seemed to shake, like water shimmering with the reflection of a morning sun, but there was no water, only radiant golden leaves.
In the distance surrounding the white forest of gold, different varieties of trees assembled. Trees bigger than Breanne had ever seen – bigger than she thought possible. These were the giant redwoods or maybe sequoia trees she had always planned to see when she finally made it to California. Sequoia or redwood, she wasn’t sure which was which, only that they were different, and that they mostly grew in Northern California. She also knew they were nowhere near California. Their direction had been slightly northeast coming out of Mexico ,and she didn’t think they were anywhere near the ocean. She thought maybe Arizona, Utah, or as far east as Colorado, but certainly not California.
Look at those trees, Bre – they are so big!
Yeah, and there are so many, Breanne said.
When they reached the edge of the shuddering trees, the golden foliage opened as several white trees moved to each side, just far enough for El Tule to continue forward into the forest.
On they walked, deeper and deeper, surrounded by a wash of light that felt magical in a regal sort of way. There were no flowers on the golden-leaved trees, but the smell was floral, reminding Breanne of her mother’s lilac bushes in spring.
On and on El Tule walked, until finally the last of the white trees moved to reveal a clearing in the center of the forest. Breanne knew it was the center because El Tule was taller than the white tree forest, allowing her to see across the valley to where the sea of gold ended and the giant redwoods began.
At the opposite side of the circular clearing stood several bizarre-looking trees. They appeared leafless and dead, with trunks that twisted like a rag being wrung. Several branches spiked up from the creepy trees’ squat bases. They too were twisted and pointing in every direction. Unlike the massive redwoods crowding the other end of the valley, these trees were not very tall, maybe fifteen feet – it was hard to say from her position high above on the platform. The odd trees reminded her of up an upside-down octopus with their leafless, twigless branches, kinking around like the tentacles of a sea serpent, nightmarishly aimless in their direction.
Those trees look like they belong in a ghost story, Gabi said.
Breanne nodded, too focused on what was happening to speak.
El Tule stopped just inside the clearing.
Breanne’s mind raced as dread swept over her. This was it. They were here. This golden forest was the queen’s castle, and this clearing must be her throne room, but where was this queen?
Jurupa turned toward them as if reading her thoughts. “Breanne Moore! Gabi De Leon! My queen awaits.”
33
Cloners Are Shifters
Thursday, April 28 – God Stones Day 22
Moab, Utah
David backpedaled across the wicker floor as the boys moved to intercept Governess.
“You have it!” Governess said, pushing Lenny and Garrett to the side as she tried to shoulder past Paul.
Paul planted his feet and pushed back.
Governess stepped back into a fighting stance as she slid backward a dozen feet before coming to a stop. She glared back at Paul through auburn bangs, a sneer forming. She pushed back her bangs and started forward again.
Garrett held out his hand, willing time around Governess to slow, surprising himself in how easily he found the focus.
Governess’s movements became like a slow-motion scene from a movie. Slowly her head turned and with it her glare. As her hand lifted, her mouth moved slowly, forming words of power. “Eshmue mue rayeshmue!”
Garrett recognized the language, though he had no idea what it meant.
As
the final syllable left her mouth, her speed returned to normal, and she charged forward, closing the gap in seconds.
Paul braced himself, ready for the collision. “Come on!” he shouted.
But this time, Governess sidestepped at the last second.
Paul fell forward into empty air as Governess stepped in, hip to hip. A blur of movement later, Paul was on his back.
This left Pete as the last line of defense between David and the angry tree woman.
Pete squinted his eyes at Governess just as she lifted her hand toward him and spoke again.
Pete’s eyes went wide. He held up his own hands as if there were a gun pointing at him and stepped out the way.
“Thanks a lot, Pete!” David said, as Governess closed the gap and snatched the boy by the collar of his sweater.
“You understood what we were saying? You have it!” Governess said.
Garrett looked at David and shook his head pleadingly. God, don’t tell her you have it, he thought. But he knew, just like Lenny and Pete knew, David was the worst liar. Back home, if there was a lie that was going to keep them out of whatever trouble they got up to, David was the one who was going to botch it for sure.
Governess spoke, but Garrett couldn’t understand her. The words weren’t words at all. They sounded like tree branches squeaking and groaning in the wind.
“No! That’s not true… I… honest… I!” David tried.
“Liar! I just spoke to you in our language and you understood!” Governess lifted David off the floor.
“Please! Aww, come on! Please, honest!” His pleading eyes shot to Garrett as his feet kicked back and forth. His hand slipped into his pocket, finding the Eyra of Tunga.
Shit, he is going to give it up. “Just put him down, Governess – he doesn’t know what you’re talking about!”
David started to draw his hand out of his pocket.
“Do you all have it? Or just the chubby one?” she asked, looking to each of them.
David’s eyes creased, and his hand stopped moving.
“What is it you think we have?” Garrett asked, holding out his hands.
“Do not play games with me, Garrett Turek. Do you all have the ability to understand our language?”
Garrett blew out a relieved sigh. “No, only David can understand and he just… I don’t know… figured it out.”
Governess dropped David to the floor.
David sat up, straightening his sweater. “Shit, lady, you stretched it all out, you know!”
“The God Stones at work, no doubt!” Governess said, squatting down to look David in the eyes. “It is of no matter now, David Leigh, the healer. We will arrive on the morrow and then we shall see your fate revealed!” Governess turned and stormed back across the platform.
Garrett and the others crowded around David.
“You okay?” Garrett asked.
“Yeah, holy crap, I thought for sure she was going to kill me,” David said, trying to catch his breath.
“You almost gave up the coin!” Pete said.
“You weren’t the one being held up in the air by your fucking neck, Pete!” David said, rubbing his throat. “Besides, it isn’t a coin!”
“David! Language!” Lenny laughed.
“All of you, settle down!” Paul said, looking back over his shoulder.
“David, take the coi— the tongue thing and pass it over.” Garrett motioned with his fingers.
“Aww, hell,” he said, digging into his pocket. “It’s called the Eyra of Tunga, and it’s more like a medallion than a coin. What did I do anyway? I didn’t give it to her! Can’t I keep it?”
“No. You can’t keep it! You and that crustache of yours just about got it taken away,” Lenny said.
“No thanks to you guys! And what the hell, Pete?! You didn’t even try!” David’s mustache drooped to match his frown.
“She was about to cast some spell on me! I love you, man, but what was I going to do?” Pete said. “Besides, someone has to live to tell the story.”
“Enough, you guys,” Garrett said. “David, you didn’t do anything wrong. We need to see if you can still understand the trees when you don’t have it.”
David nodded reluctantly and passed Garrett the medallion.
Everyone stood waiting and listening. A few minutes later, David’s eyes lit up. “I can still understand it! They’re talking about—”
“About reaching the outer forest by dawn,” Garrett finished, the runes on the medallion glowing brightly in his hand.
“Let me try,” Lenny said.
Garrett passed it over, and around they went. Within a few moments, they could all understand the tree language without the need to hold the medallion, although all attempts to speak it failed.
“I wonder if this would work the same if someone was speaking French?” Lenny asked.
“I don’t see why not,” David said.
Lenny shook his head. “No, I mean, do you think we would also be able to speak French, not just understand it?”
“Ah, I see what you mean. Yeah, maybe. I think we can’t speak tree because our vocal cords aren’t capable of making the sounds, but with French we could,” David said.
“Good. Chicks dig French. We need to find someone who speaks it,” Lenny said, waggling his eyebrows up and down.
“Seriously! I think we have bigger things to worry about, Lenny,” Pete said.
Lenny shrugged. “Just saying.”
David stuffed the medallion back into his cargo pocket, buttoned it, and gave the pocket a pat.
“I need to tell you guys something,” Pete said, grabbing everyone’s attention.
“What’s wrong?” Paul asked.
“Well, something about Governess has been bothering me since I first heard her name back on the ferry, when you said she lived for millennia. I got to thinking – what kind of tree lives for over a thousand years?”
“I knew it!” David interrupted. “She’s from the other planet where Apep came from, isn’t she? She’s from Karelia!”
“Wrong!” Pete said, shaking his head at David in exasperation.
David’s face deflated into a frown.
Pete rolled his eyes. “Anyway, then I heard David repeating what the trees called her – Governess Larrea. As you guys should know by now, those names don’t originate in tree language, rather they are derived from human language. Why they want to use names we have given them is anyone’s guess. Maybe it’s because—”
“Get to the point, kid,” Paul said.
“You got somewhere to be, big guy?” Pete asked.
Paul leaned in, a vein in the side of his neck bulging.
Pete held up his hands. “Sorry… sorry about that. Getting to the point, I did a pretty big school project on the oldest trees in the United States. There are old trees, like some several-hundred-year-old cypress trees and some pretty old oaks, but then there are some redwoods that get to be a couple thousand years old.”
“Isn’t she a little small to be a redwood?” David asked.
Lenny shot him a look that said, Shut the hell up.
“Of course, but I am just getting warmed up. Then there are the bristlecone pines, which look really cool, by the way. They’re all wicked looking and twisted up. They call the oldest one Methuselah. It’s like five thousand years old. Okay, that takes care of the non-clonal, but here’s the really cool part. There are also trees in the clonal category.” Pete paused and looked around the group. “You boys with me? Clonal? Everyone tracking here?”
No one nodded.
“Riiiiight, well, clonal trees are trees that can clone themselves. The oldest is really freaking old, at least fifty thousand years, but maybe a whole lot more. Scientists aren’t sure. And get this – it isn’t a single tree, it’s an entire forest of trees that just keep on cloning off one super old root ball.”
“That’s great, Pete, but what does any of this have to do with Governess?” Garrett asked.
“When it was my
turn to hold the medallion, I heard her say a name – Jurupa. I’m sure of it. Well get this, Jurupa is a clonal oak tree from the Jurupa Mountains,” Pete said, holding up a finger as he started pacing back and forth in front of the Garrett and the others.
Garrett smiled. He hadn’t seen Pete like this since they were trying to solve Lincoln’s journal. It felt like Pete was back in the zone.
“And if I am right, which is likely, Governess Larrea is a creosote bush from the Mojave Desert in California. The bush is called the King Clone, aka Larrea, aka Governess. If memory serves, and I think it does, the name Governess was given to the cloning bush because it sequestered all the water away from the surrounding plants to ensure its own survival. I guess you could say it was not a very nice shrub. So you see, it all fits. Our Governess is a cloning creosote bush that is over eleven thousand years old. Jurupa is even older, by the way. Maybe fourteen thousand years. Which brings me to my next hypothesis.” Pete hesitated as he tapped a finger on his lip.
Garrett could see the others getting ready to lose it, but this was Pete at his best.
“Cloning trees can shape-shift,” Pete announced.
The others all frowned.
“Don’t you get it? That’s why she’s different from the other trees. Under the power of the God Stones I believe clonal trees, shrubs, and bushes can all shape-shift. That’s my theory, anyway.”
“And is that why they can heal and cast magic?” David asked.
“I think so. But you tell me, David – this magic stuff seems like your specialty, not mine.”
David smiled at the compliment. “Yeah, I think that makes sense. But wouldn’t her being a cloning tree mean she could clone herself?”
Paul rubbed his chin. “I don’t think so. I think if she could clone, she would have done it back on shore at the ferry or maybe in the park. Think about it. She would have had ten or twenty of her clones chasing us, not just one.”
Garrett nodded. “Good work, Pete,” Garrett said, slapping him on the shoulder. “I don’t know how it helps us yet, but it’s more than we knew an hour ago.”
