Aster Wood and the Lost Maps of Almara (Book 1)

by Cantwell, J. B.

  From the center of the herd walked a deep tan horse with a midnight black mane and tail. He approached me at a brisk walk, and the rest of the herd followed behind him cautiously. As he got closer to me he whinnied a loud, clear song. The sound gave me shivers of excitement, and the echoing calls of the herd made my insides leap with joy and anticipation. It was all I could do to keep myself from sprinting towards them.

  But I didn’t need to run to them. Their strides closed the distance between us quickly, and I soon saw why. They were huge. These were not your run-of-the-mill trail horses, not your average working farm horses; these horses were as tall as elephants.

  I slowed my pace, but the leader did not reduce his. He walked directly towards me, finally stopping when his face was inches from my own. His head bowed down to greet me, his giant nose snorting warm breath all over my face and hair. His eyes were as large as baseballs, and they looked at me with kindness and a strange familiarity. Soon the rest of the herd was doing the same as the leader, and from all sides their tickling noses snorted onto my neck and nibbled my shirtsleeves, sending shivers across my skin. My fear evaporated.

  It was bliss. To be so small, surrounded by such giants, but to be so comfortable and feel so safe was unlike any feeling I had ever had in my life. Their huge feet, the size of serving platters, could have crushed me to bits, but these were no monsters. No anger or fear showed in their gentle eyes. They welcomed me to this place and to the herd as if I was one of them. Unable to contain my joy, I wrapped both arms around the leader’s neck and buried my face in his warm fur, his dark mane covering my hair and ears. He lifted his head, pulling me up and off my feet, almost jokingly. I let go and landed at his shoulders, and he gave a low snort.

  I could have stayed there, maybe not forever, but for a good long time, if it weren’t for the heat that started to burn my leg. Looking down, I found the jade knife glowing bright and hot in my pants pocket. I passed it back and forth from hand to hand, and gradually it cooled until I could comfortably hold it once more. As I inspected it, the leader of the herd became agitated. His hooves danced in the grass and he lifted his head, whinnying loudly. The other horses followed suit, and soon the air rang with their song. They began to move away from me, not frightened, but on the move. They acted like little children being called by their mother, and soon they all set off away from me at a brisk pace.

  I ran back to my tree and hoisted my pack onto my back, frightened that they would leave me behind. Running for the first time in days to catch up, I soon found myself alongside the giant animals. With each step I took along with the herd, they increased their speed, just slightly. Soon they were running at a full gallop, and I was dashing along beside them, laughing as I impossibly kept pace.

  I felt my heart, hard and strong, as it beat in my chest. Whatever evil may be transpiring in the Fold, I couldn’t deny that I felt alive here, really alive. The power that had come to my once sick heart didn’t only heal me, it transformed me. Here I wasn’t just a runty kid with defective parts. I was powerful and strong, my purpose vital and significant.

  The warm wind blew across my face as we ran. Their hooves thundered over the grass, and my own feet seemed to barely touch it at all. The smell of sweat and earth filled my nose. The sound of fifteen huge beasts sucking in and pushing out air, snorting and nickering to one another, elated me, and I felt an enormous smile break across my face.

  The run seemed to go on forever, and neither they nor I tired. The grass flew by in a blur, and the gigantic animals wove in and out of my path, tossing their heads and nickering to each other, to me. After a time, the ground we ran on seemed almost unnecessary; I thought surely we must be flying. As the frolic took us over miles and miles of plains, the mountains slowly rose up in front of us. The details of the great, granite cliffs came into focus, and as we neared them their peaks rose high over our heads, reaching for the skies above.

  The leader slowed to a walk as we reached the outer edges of the great cliffs. Along one side, invisible from a distance, he walked purposefully down a path that cut through the mountain. His herd followed closely behind him, and I behind them. For a time we walked single file, picking our way between enormous rock faces that stretched a thousand feet above our heads. They were quiet now; only the soft sounds of breathing and the breaking of rocks under their heavy hooves made their way to my ears. The horses’ massive shoulders rubbed the sides of the rock as they squeezed through the narrower parts. The jade rock burned in my hands, and I became alert, searching for the source that seemed to excite the stone. But I could see very little, sandwiched between two enormous beasts and two faces of rock. Then, quite suddenly, the path opened up, and we emerged into a long, wide gully.

  The water that had cut this path through the mountain looked to have long since evaporated. The remains of the stream bed were barely visible beneath the new growth that overtook the pebbles that had once laid underwater. After the whole herd was through the opening, the leader approached me. He lowered his head and nudged my hair with his nose. Then he turned and walked farther down the gully.

  I followed him deeper into the mountain, the herd resting in the rocky, shaded entrance. We walked until they were nearly out of view, and he stopped short in front of a particularly smooth face of the rock. Here the jade dagger became too hot for me to handle any longer. I fumbled with it, tossing it from hand to hand, until finally it fell, searing a welt along my forearm on the way down. It clattered to the ground, and I blew at my burning arm and fingers. I removed a cloth from my pack and wrapped the handle and blade carefully, covering every part that could potentially burn me, and stuffed it deep into my pocket. When I looked up again, the horse was watching me. He seemed to be waiting.

  The granite in this part of the gully was damp. Along the sides lowest to the ground grew a thick bed of moss that crept up the face of the rock a hundred feet above our heads. The horse brushed his nose over the green blanket, like a common horse sniffing for a treat. He nuzzled the moss, working his lips from side to side, over several square feet of rock, and then took a gentle bite from the sheet and tore a swath of it away.

  Up until this moment, I had considered these horses to be nothing more than what they appeared to be. The were surely magnificent and huge and beautiful, but were they of equal intelligence to a human? No, I didn’t think so. They had animal minds and animal senses, not intelligence that rivaled my own.

  But beneath that six inch patch of moss was something that quickly changed my mind about this. Under the curtain of green a tall, deep crevice extended into the rock. I stared at the leader of the herd in wonder, and he looked back at me with the knowing eyes of a wise old man.

  The horse gave another snort and blew a breath in my face before he started off again, walking back towards his herd. I watched him go regretfully, wishing I had known before now what he really was: an intelligent soul, and a friend. I wanted to stay with him, or for him to come with me into this dark mountain. But there was no question; this would have to be where our paths split. As the echoes of his hooves across the smooth rocks began to fade away, I heard him whinny loudly to his companions on the far side of the gully, their responses ringing out towards him as he returned.

  I turned and peered down the path that lay before me, my eyes searching for a sign of what was to come. And then I took my first step down the passage, alone, into the darkness.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I was immediately blinded. The walls of the cave were chalky black and reflected almost none of the light that peeked in through the crack I had just walked through. The knife in my pocket burned, and I removed it, unwrapping it carefully. It shone brightly, and beneath the beam of light I could make out the rough path in front of my feet. I held it in front of me like a flashlight. It was constantly glowing now, and I hoped that meant I was headed in the right direction.

  I picked my way down the path, moving as quietly as I possibly could. The crack went on and on through the rock.
Nothing seemed to threaten me here. There was no being, human or beast, and no sound except the light tread of my own feet.

  It was impossible to tell how long I had been in the throat of the mountain with no light of day to give me any clues about the passage of time. I ran my hands along the walls occasionally as I walked, searching for differences in the structure of the rock, or maybe a path that could be easily missed in the blackness. But the mountain did not divulge any of its secrets until, suddenly, the walls were gone completely.

  I stopped dead in my tracks, confused by the lack of hard stone on either side of me. Holding the knife up, I saw that I was in a large chamber. I tried to see the edges of the mountain around where I stood, but the only thing I could make out was the ground for a foot around me, no further. Three paces backwards was the crevice I had just walked out from, and I went back to it, relieved when my hand met the solid, black stone. I followed along the outer edge of the cavern wall, shining the light up and down rhythmically as I walked, searching for a new path to follow, or a new danger to flee from.

  The stone grew hotter with each step I took. Twenty paces away was another large crack in the rock. As I approached, I took care not to make a sound, though I was so anxious I felt certain my heartbeat must be audible. I had been in the dark for quite long enough, and was becoming increasingly eager to find my way back out again.

  I had been hoping to find a path towards light, thinking that maybe on the other side of that crack I would find the comfort I was seeking in this black and lonely place. Maybe I would even see a hint of the world beyond this mountain.

  As I reached the crevice and put my fingers around the corner, the stone burst with a surge of heat so great that I yelped and threw it to the ground. There it blazed, brighter and brighter, until the light coming off the thin blade was like a miniature sun. I shielded my eyes from the glare, and then looked up at the cavern I was standing in.

  Five hundred feet across and ten stories high, an enormous dome of black granite rock was suspended above me. The light from the stone illuminated the entire space, obliterating all shadow. I marveled at the size of this hole in the mountain, but no other hints about why I was led here were forthcoming. No markings decorated the walls, no artifacts were anywhere to be found. The cavern was completely empty but for myself and the stone.

  Then I heard it. I had been so transfixed by the behavior of the jade that the sound had not registered in my brain immediately. But now it did. Somewhere nearby somebody was singing. It was a gentle, soft tune, and the singer sounded like a child. I peered all around the dome, but found nothing that could be making the noise. Then I saw another, dimmer light coming from the crevice. As I approached the crack, the soft blue glow seemed to bounce to the rhythm of the song. I turned the corner and left the brightness of the dome behind. There, at the end of the passage, was a girl.

  She lay on a bed, tucked deep underneath the covers. This cavern was smaller, the size of a child’s bedroom. From under the covers her white-blond hair poured over her shoulders, and her arms were above her head as she hummed the melody. Just above her hands bobbed a dim orb of light, and she passed it back and forth from hand to hand as she hummed. She seemed to control the orb with the tone of her voice, and the light danced around above her head with each note she sang.

  Across the plains of Borna

  Horses run wild and free

  And if you see my darling

  Please bring her back to me

  “Hello?” I asked softly. She did not respond.

  For on the plains of Borna

  My darling went to see

  If magic comes to those who run

  Pure-hearted to the sea

  Now on the plains of Borna

  My darling hides her song

  Please find my darling before

  She is away too long

  “Hello?” I tried again. This time she heard me, and both her song and the light ceased immediately. I stood in darkness with only the glow from the jade that peeked in from the other cavern.

  “Hello,” I said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m not here to hurt you or anything. I…I’m looking for something here.”

  “What are you looking for?” she hissed from the shadows, her voice more menacing than I expected.

  “Well, that’s sort of hard to explain,” I began. “I’m looking for a map…or maybe something sort of like a map…” How could I describe a map of Almara’s, when I didn’t even know what the next one looked like myself? “And a stone. It’s a large, jade stone.” I felt like a fool.

  “A stone?” she asked.

  “Yes, well, it’s complicated,” I answered. “Would you mind…I mean would it be possible…it would be easier for me to explain it to you if I could see you.”

  She was silent for a moment, and then the blue orb glowed to life once more, illuminating the cave around us. I took a step in her direction, “You see, I was—”

  “DON’T!” she commanded. “Don’t come any closer!”

  I froze. “Ok, ok!” I said. “Why not?”

  “You are not the first to seek the stone,” she said wryly. “But its power is not drawn into being the way you all think. Who are you, and why do you seek this prize?”

  “I’m Aster,” I said. “I’m not looking for power. I’m looking for the stone so that I can destroy it.” I left out the fact that I seriously doubted I would be able to do the job myself.

  The sound of her laughter laced with sarcasm suddenly filled the chamber. It irritated me, being laughed by this little girl after all I had been through to get here.

  “What’s so funny?” I snapped at her. But my irritation seemed to make her laugh even harder.

  She slowly started to compose herself as she spoke again. “What’s funny,” she said through a giggle, “is that you think you’re looking for a stone. An actual stone. The others were dull, to be sure, but they at least understood what it was they sought.” And then she lost her grip again and was howling with laughter.

  I didn’t know what to say. I was looking for a stone. And who were these “others” she was talking about? Had travelers come before me seeking the stone? Were they also trying to find Almara?

  But this girl not only thought that my plan was wrong, but that it was so pathetic as to be hysterical. I lost my temper and bellowed, “WHAT IS SO FUNNY?”

  Her eyes widened in the dim light with surprise at my yell, but she continued to laugh. Then a deep cough echoed through her chest and she dissolved into a fit of hacking. She rolled over onto her side in the bed and coughed, a sad, empty sound. It went on for several minutes, and I began to worry that she would choke from the violence of it. When the coughing finally quieted and she caught her breath, all traces of her smile were gone.

  “Boy,” she whispered hoarsely. “You are not looking for a stone. Those who have sent you here after a simple rock have either misled you or been misled themselves. What you have failed to learn before now, along all of your traveling, is that you are looking, in fact, for me.” Then she lay back on her bed, her eyes trained on the low ceiling of the cave. “But you can’t have me to either use or destroy,” she continued quietly. “There is no way out of this place.”

  “Looking for you?” I said. “I don’t understand.”

  “I hold the power. The story of the stone serves only to hide me.”

  I took another step.

  “STOP!” she bellowed, coughing hollowly once again. “Stop. If you come any closer, you will be trapped in here with me. And, forgive me, but I don’t think I could handle another two hundred years here with someone as simple as you.”

  “I am NOT simple!” I protested immediately. Two hundred years? “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve been through or where I’ve come from to get here. Now why—”

  “If you take one more step in this direction,” she said angrily, glaring at me now, “then you will be trapped in here, a prisoner like me, f
orever. Is that what you want?”

  “But what do you mean?” I asked, stopping. “There are no bars holding you in. There’s nothing keeping you here. If you want to go, then go.”

  “You understand nothing!” she bellowed. “Do you think I would stay here if there were a way, any way, to break free? You are a fool.”

  “I am NOT—” I began.

  “Try it then,” she said menacingly. “If you are so wise, go ahead. Try to throw me something from where you stand.”

  “Throw you something?” I asked, confused. I had been about to launch a tirade of my own.

  “So I can show you,” she said, her voice grating with irritation.

  I glared at her for a moment, and then relented. I removed the pack from my back and dug out an apple, my last. Standing, I threw it directly at her head. But as it flew through the air it made a ripping sound halfway between the two of us. It seemed to pause a little bit midair, as if it was tearing through a thin sheet of paper. Then it broke through to the other side; she caught it in one hand and held it up for me to see.

  “Ok,” she said. “Now watch.” She tossed the apple back towards me. I lifted my hands, ready to catch it, but it did not meet my grasp. Instead, it bounced off an invisible barrier, and landed on the floor next to her bed. There was a wall between us, though I could see nothing.

  “You see,” she said, finally, “if you come through the wall, you will never, ever be able to get out again. There is no escape.” She pulled her covers up to her chin and rolled over, facing away from me.

  “Is there…” I began, then I paused, unsure of what to say. “Is there anything to be done? Is there any way out?” It was a stupid question, I knew, but I could think of no other.

  “No,” her back spoke. “There is no way out.”