by T.A. Barron
“What?”
Slowly, Laioni’s head swung toward Kandeldandel, still holding his flute. “A feather.”
“Now, hold on,” protested the musician, covering his chest with his wings as he backed away. “Just because I put out your fire doesn’t mean you can pluck one of my feathers.”
“I wasn’t going to pluck one,” she replied. “I thought you might have one that’s ready to drop.”
Kandeldandel’s fluffy brows came together. “Oh, all right,” he hooted. “But you should face it, you’re finished. Whatever chance you had to find the Touchstone, let alone the missing piece, it’s gone now. And without Arc…well, all the fun’s gone for me. So I’m leaving.” He pulled a white feather from under one of his wings, twirled it once, then handed it to Laioni. Spinning his head toward Kate, he added, “This is the last you’ll ever see of me. Good-bye.”
He vanished in a puff of white light.
Kate gazed sadly at the spot. “Just when I thought he was maybe going to stay with us for a while, he disappears.”
“Count your blessings,” muttered Jody.
Laioni raised the feather, as big as her hand, high above her head. Then she lowered it to the flaming cedar bough and said, “Cedar, rain, and feather. Earth, water, air. Join with our fire to call the four directions.”
She waved a puff of scented smoke toward the stream. In a low voice, she chanted, “North, origin of weather, color of white, we ask you for wisdom.” Again she swept the feather through the rising smoke, this time toward the forest, singing as she did, “South, birthplace of new life, color of green, we ask you for wonder.” Then, waving in another direction, “West, source of our dreams, color of blue, we ask you for vision.” And, last of all, to the opposite side, “East, home of the sun, color of yellow, we ask you for strength.”
As her words hung above the crackling fire, mixing with the aromatic smoke, Laioni lifted the feather and drew a large circle above her head. Then, lowering her arm, she waved it gracefully at Kate, then at Jody, then at Monga, sending each the power of the four directions. She then dropped the feather into the flames.
After a long silence, Kate said, “That was beautiful.” She studied her empty right hand. “Too bad it won’t help us get the stick back.”
“Maybe we could help ourselves,” suggested Jody meekly.
Kate turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” said the red-haired boy, speaking a little louder this time, “maybe it’s still worth a try to get it back.”
“Sanbu’s halfway to the mountain by now,” Kate replied dismissively. Then, facing Laioni, she asked, “He’ll take it straight to Gashra, won’t he?”
The Halami girl contemplated for a moment before answering. “Sanbu’s camp is on the way to the mountain. It’s too far to go the whole way before nightfall, so he’ll probably stay at his camp tonight, celebrating with his men, then leave for the mountain in the morning.”
“What did she say?” questioned Jody.
“That he’ll probably stay at his camp tonight and deliver the stick in the morning.”
“Then why don’t we go after him now?” he suggested.
“Are you crazy? Track him through the night?”
“At least then we’d have a chance to get the stick back,” urged Jody. “A surprise attack.”
Kate muttered, “I don’t know. For one thing, how could we find his camp at night? For another, do you think we could stand even half a chance against his band of warriors?”
Jody stepped closer. “If we don’t get the stick back, we’re stuck here forever. Right?”
Kate said nothing.
“So we’ve got nothing to lose. At least it’s worth a try.”
“I know where his camp is supposed to be hidden,” offered Laioni. Then, regarding Kate thoughtfully, she added, “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“Why do you say that?”
The Halami girl studied her tenderly. “What is it?”
“Well, it’s—it’s,” she stammered, “it’s just that, well, I really don’t—don’t like the dark.”
Jody started to smirk, then caught himself. “That’s okay,” he said. “I used to hate being out in the woods at night too. Especially with big trees like this around. But now I know it’s no big deal.”
Kate drew in a deep breath. She scanned the swiftly darkening boughs above them. “I don’t know.”
“Hey,” said Jody. “You remember that story about Babe Ruth, the one where he stands at home plate after two strikes and points to the stands?”
“Sure,” grumbled Kate. “Everybody knows that one. He pointed to the center-field bleachers, then hit a homer right there. What’s that have to do with anything?”
“Well, you see,” began Jody, “I never thought the best part about that story was the homer. Lots of guys hit homers. Even I’ve hit two or three. The best part was he had the guts to stand up there and say he was gonna try. To take a risk. In front of everybody. That took real courage.”
Kate looked into the flickering fire. She heard again the words of the Chieftess: Hold fast to your stick of power. It is your only hope, and ours as well. The fire coals crackled, and she saw deep within the flames the remains of Kandeldandel’s feather. Now nothing but a burnt shaft, it still held itself as straight as the stick she once had carried.
“All right,” she said at last. “Let’s give it a try.”
PART THREE
Into the Tree
23
night vision
BEFORE starting off, Kate and Jody separated the burning sticks, threw dirt over them, and stamped out the remaining flames. Seeing Laioni watching them with fascination, Kate realized that it must never have occurred to her to put out a fire with one’s foot. Kate smiled to herself, appreciating anew the advantages of sneakers—even ones with bright green laces.
As the last lick of flame withdrew from the embers, Kate’s eyes fell to the cradle of roots holding the small bundle of feathers that once was Arc. How similar they were, cold embers and lifeless body, both deprived of the fire that made them something so utterly different.
Laioni squeezed her arm gently. “We should go now.”
“Where exactly do we have to go?” asked Kate, feeling the same queasiness she always felt when no light burned nearby.
“We will stay in this part of the forest for several more hours,” answered Laioni. “I know this area well, so even without any moon, we should not lose our way.” She hesitated before going on. “Then we will descend into a valley that is always dark, even in the daytime. No Halami goes there, not even my father when he is hunting, because there the power of Gashra is very strong.”
Kate squirmed. “Isn’t there another way?”
“No,” Laioni replied. “Not if we want to reach Sanbu’s camp before dawn. The Dark Valley lies between us and Gashra’s steaming mountain. We must cross the Dark Valley, then climb the ridge until we are above the trees, to reach Sanbu’s camp.”
“I really don’t like this idea.”
“Neither do I,” said Laioni. “I have never set foot in the Dark Valley. But going that way is our only hope to catch him before he delivers the stick to Gashra, if he hasn’t already.”
At that moment, Monga passed close to Laioni’s legs, brushing his tail against her. She reached down and rubbed his head, whispering, “I know you’ll be with me.” The dog then nuzzled against Kate’s jeans. Grinning, Laioni added, “And with Kate too.”
Laioni then turned and started into the forest. Jody tramped along stiffly behind her. Monga hung back, waiting for Kate to start walking. When at last she did, the dog stayed just ahead of her, still limping slightly.
As they entered the deep woods, darkness pressed still closer. Kate could barely see the shadowy shapes of trunks and fallen branches in the swiftly departing light, and with every step the forest grew thicker and darker. Unseen branches stretched out long arms to scratch her face and poke h
er chest, sudden puddles of water swallowed up her sneakers without warning, slippery logs tripped her more than once. She could tell by the crashes and cursing ahead that Jody was doing little better. By contrast, Laioni seemed to move through the trees with the ease of a strutting deer.
Each time Kate stumbled or bumped into something, Monga trotted to her side within seconds. He seemed genuinely concerned for her well-being, whimpering sympathetically or tugging on her pant leg with his teeth to help her find a better route. Kate began to feel like a toddler trying to walk, constantly thwarted by too-little legs that buckled without mercy. Frustration and anger swelled inside her, shoving aside fear, and even Monga’s concern started to irritate her.
“Leave me alone,” she grumbled, pushing the dog away as he tried to lick her neck after she walked into a mossy boulder. “I can do just f—Ohh!”
In her impatience to back away, she thrust her head directly into a jagged limb. Laioni, hearing her shout, strode back and quickly joined her.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine,” snapped Kate, rubbing the back of her head. “Except that I’m stuck in the wrong time and stumbling around like a two-year-old in the middle of the night.” She studied the outline of Laioni, whose black hair and eyes blended thoroughly into the background, and added quietly, “It’s hopeless. I can’t keep on like this.”
“I have an idea,” said the other girl. “It might help.”
Without a sound, she knelt beside Kate’s feet and began fumbling with the tops of her sneakers. At first Kate stepped backward in surprise. Then, weighed down by a growing sense of despair, she merely stood passively, certain that whatever wild idea Laioni had would make no difference anyway. After quite a bit of tugging, pulling, and twisting, Laioni removed Kate’s green-laced sneakers and her socks as well.
“What are you doing?” Kate demanded.
Laioni rose, pushing the socks and sneakers at Kate. “Put these in the basket on your back. I want you to try walking without them.”
“What?” exclaimed Kate. “Are you kidding? It’ll be ten times worse.”
“Try it.”
“All right, but it’s stupid.” She slipped her arms out of the day pack, unzipped it, and threw in the footgear. “Totally stupid.”
“The ground is soft, even though your feet are like my baby brother’s. Touching the earth with your feet will help you see.”
“That’s ridiculous,” grumbled Kate. “How can my feet help me see?”
“Try it,” repeated Laioni.
She stepped away, picking her route with special care through the growing blackness of the woods. Monga, tail held high, padded close behind. Awkwardly, Kate started to trudge after them.
Immediately, the newly barefoot girl felt a flood of sensations from her feet. Protected as they had been for most of their existence, they seemed more aware to touch than her fingertips. Kate’s amazement at their sensitivity did not last long, however, soon giving way to an overwhelming sense of discomfort. Sticks and roots jabbed into her arches, slimy puddle water seeped between her toes, and unidentified insects wriggled across the tops of her feet. Still, trying to be brave, she stifled her groans and pushed slowly ahead.
To her dismay, the forest grew steadily darker with each passing minute. As the last lingering remnant of light faded from the cloudy sky above, the towering trees and mounting mist seemed to soak up any stray sources of illumination. No moon shone through the darkening boughs; no stars glittered overhead. Night had come to the ancient forest, and with night came true and total darkness.
Then, to Kate’s astonishment, a subtle change began to occur. Perhaps because there was now no light left to trick her vision, perhaps because she was forced to rely only on her other senses, she began to feel gradually more secure in her movements. Her feet pained her less, though they remained uncomfortably sensitive. Stepping somewhat more easily on the spongy turf, she seemed to have sprouted special antennae that could perceive the shadowy shapes surrounding her, at first only barely, but with time more and more fully. She could almost reach out with this new sense, or combination of senses, to touch and see in ways that required neither hands nor eyes.
With slightly more confidence, Kate moved through the lightless forest. Soon she grew comfortable enough to close her eyes for a brief moment, just to feel whether it would slow her down. It did, but much less than she expected. She somehow knew where a low branch loomed or a log rose out of the earth. Her senses were saturated by the subtle slopes and contours of the forest floor underfoot and the swishing sound of Monga’s tail brushing ferns and flowers just ahead. She understood that to her five senses a new one had been added, one that she had never known before: a kind of quiet hearing, a vision of the night.
Just then, a bat flew quite close to her face, brushing her cheek with its wing. She froze, cowering, as several more bats swooped near. All at once, her momentary calm disappeared. She dreaded again the dangers lurking in this place.
She recalled a description by Aunt Melanie of a night stroll she had once taken, in woods far removed not in distance but in time from the woods where Kate now walked. Aunt Melanie described proceeding through a dark and moonless forest, a prospect that made Kate shiver at the time, only to discover a strange beam of light cutting across her path. It seemed shockingly bright to Aunt Melanie, utterly out of place in the deep darkness. The beam sliced through the thick web of snags and branches to fall like a spotlight on a large brown-winged moth resting on the trunk of an aging fir. The light, Aunt Melanie said, hung in the air like an incandescent rope reaching from one end of the forest to the other. She wondered what could possibly cause such a thing, when all at once she discovered its source: It was the light of the rising moon.
Kate sighed, wishing the moon might send a shaft of bright light into this forest on this night. What she would give to see its silvery sphere swim into view above the treetops! Now that she had experienced night vision, she desired the moon’s light less for guidance than for comfort. More bats swished past her head. The darkness of this place felt increasingly menacing. Yet no moon appeared. Instead, the forest seemed to grow ever blacker, ever more perilous.
The ground sloped downward, and Kate knew that they were descending into some kind of valley. She wondered whether this could be the Dark Valley that Laioni had described. She stepped on a stick that suddenly hissed and slithered out from under her foot. With a start, she jumped back. Her intelligence told her it was only a snake, yet that did little to calm the rapid beating of her heart.
Trees creaked and groaned on all sides as she moved past. The air smelled smoky here, as if the earth had been singed by fire not long ago. Perhaps because of the smoke, Kate’s eyes started to sting, causing her to blink frequently. Bushes and ferns held more and more gleaming eyes, some of them round and black, some slanted and yellow. Most frightening of all, however, was the darkness itself. As she dropped deeper into the valley, the darkness grew thicker and heavier, submerging everything around her in impenetrable ink.
Something heavy stepped on her toe. She gasped and quickly backed away, then jabbed her neck on the broken branch of a tree. As she cried out in pain, Monga pawed her leg, whimpering.
“Who’s there?” she asked.
“It’s me,” answered the voice of Jody. “I walked— walked right into this tree. Almost knocked me flat on my can.”
“You klutz, you really scared me. Can you believe how dark it is? I’m getting the jitters about this place.”
A scream pierced the night. It came from not far away. Monga barked, then dashed into the darkness.
“Laioni,” exclaimed Kate. “That’s her voice, I know it.” She tried calling her name, but no answer came.
The crunch of needles told her Jody had stepped nearer. “This doesn’t feel like regular night.” He crunched still closer. “And all this smoke in the air…Makes it hard to breathe.”
“Jody, I’m really worried.” She cupped her hands to her mou
th and called again: “Laaaiooo-ni.”
Still no answer.
Then, from the blackness, they heard a strange, heavy breathing. It was accompanied by a new crunching sound, coming closer. Yet this crunching did not sound like feet, at least not like human feet. It sounded more like a body sliding, dragging, over the ground. Kate stood utterly still, while Jody moved so close that his shoulder rubbed against hers. The breathing and crunching grew steadily louder.
Suddenly a hand grabbed Kate’s ankle. “Hey,” she cried, yanking her leg free. “Let go!”
“Don’t be frightened,” whispered a voice by her knees.
“Laioni! What are you doing down there?”
“I’m crawling,” she replied weakly. “Feeling my way. Here, help me up.”
Both Kate and Jody bent low to pull the Halami girl upright. She struggled to stand, as if she were dazed, then leaned against Kate for support. Monga whimpered, moving around them in a slow circle.
“What happened?” asked Kate as she wrapped her arm around Laioni’s shoulder. Feeling something wet against her hand, she exclaimed, “Hey, you’re bleeding.”
“It’s all right, just a scrape,” Laioni said, her voice still barely audible.
“Why didn’t you answer when I called?”
“I couldn’t,” came the whispered reply. “Something strange happened to my voice. I can’t—can’t talk any louder than this.” She rubbed her neck. “But I’m lucky to be here at all. A hunting pit, over there somewhere. I almost fell in. Only saved myself by grabbing onto a root.”
“Like the one I fell into,” said Kate.
“Yes, but you’d probably never have found me. This smoke, it’s so thick.” She coughed, sounding not much different from the grating and rasping of the branches overhead. From faraway, some unseen animal shrieked in a long, high-pitched wail. Then, with chilling certainty, Laioni added, “There’s something more than smoke here.”
