Running closely behind her, Dalloway cried out, “Did you find it?”
“Yes,” she yelled back. “And if we do not hurry, it will all be for naught. We are not safe out here any longer!”
“We were never safe in this storm!” Conrad exclaimed.
“It is not the storm that threatens us now, father,” Caroline said, and her voice rang with terror. “The animals have spoken to me. The Possessed seek the source of the power. Sidra’s medallion may be the beacon that will lead them to us as well!” she shouted.
“Then let me throw it in the snow!” Dalloway yelled back and he grasped the thong that hung around his neck.
“No!” Caroline screamed. “No! Whatever you do, do not give it up. It is all that we have to protect us. We will need it in the Hollows!”
“The Hollows?” Conrad shouted back as they dashed through the blinding snow.
“Yes. The entrance is up ahead. See how the ground slopes down over there? Make haste!” she warned and she raced forward.
The sky grew darker very quickly and the wind stopped dead in an instant. The flakes ceased to fall and silence replaced the previous clamor of the raging storm.
“Hurry! I see it now. Follow me, quickly!” Caroline said as she pressed her horse unremittingly onward.
The distinct sound of heavy hooves pounding the hard ground sounded somewhere behind them, rapidly growing louder, but none looked back. The earth trembled with each step as their pursuer approached, and the air crackled with power. Caroline leapt from her horse and grabbed the bridle of her father’s horse almost simultaneously. Dalloway, too, dismounted in an instant and stood with them.
“I must send them off on their own. They cannot enter with us,” she said almost frenziedly, and she spoke to the animals for a short moment. The horses wasted no time before dashing into the distance in three different directions.
“Come! Quickly!” Caroline ordered them. “Quickly!”
She stepped down into what looked like a black pool amidst the interminable whiteness and disappeared instantly. Conrad and Dalloway bounded right after her.
Chapter Thirty-six
They crossed the plains of Chilmark faster than they could have hoped. Nothing slowed their progress, and their horses were well rested and strong when they set out initially from the gates of Avalain.
“I see the edge of the woods ahead,” Elion said. “We are almost there.”
“I see it too,” Tomas replied. “Is there an entrance? It appears almost like a solid wall.”
“There must be a way in. We will have to search for it when we get closer,” Elion answered.
They rode nearly into the stockade-like perimeter, but as they feared, they were thwarted by the density of the trees and there was no apparent entryway.
“There is so much brush and so many trees, we cannot fit between,” Elion observed.
The ring was burning upon Tomas’ chest.
“Were we followed, do you think?” the boy asked, and he looked behind himself warily for a moment.
“I doubt it, Tomas. No one saw us leave. Besides, I do not think too many could have crossed the Chilmark that fast. And even if they had, it was pretty barren. I suspect we would have noticed at some point, if anyone was tracking us,” Elion said as he too gazed over his shoulder at the barren plains of Chilmark.
“Look, Elion!” Tomas said in surprise, as he returned his attention upon the woods before them. “We turned our heads away for only a second, and the trees have rearranged themselves!”
“The Winding Woods, Tomas!” Elion answered, as if that was enough of an explanation for the extraordinary phenomenon. “Remember what Filaree said.”
A narrow passageway opened up in front of them and it was flanked by trees on either side. It was barely wide enough for them to ride single file, and Elion took the lead.
“Follow me and stay close. Who knows what the trees have in mind? We should try to make sure that they do not separate us!” Elion warned.
“We should try? And how do you suggest that we accomplish that? We are not in control here.”
“It was only a suggestion, Tomas,” he replied while looking left and right as he proceeded down the path. “Just do not lag behind.”
They had walked no more than twenty yards into the woods when Tomas looked behind them.
“I hate to say it, but we might as well be as deep in this forest as we could be. There is no longer a clear way out!”
Elion too looked back and he saw that the trees had filled in the space to their rear as if there had never been a path at all.
“How do they move without us seeing them do so?” Elion asked. “Are they really there? Could this be illusion?”
“They are there. They are just very quick. We cannot keep our eyes on them all at once. They probably perceive us as a threat and they are just being cautious.”
“I wonder what we can do to let them know that we mean them no harm.”
“I do not know if they are as sentient as you believe, Elion. They respond defensively, but it may merely be a reaction to our intrusion. Even the simplest of beasts responds to stimuli. It seems to me that this entire forest does behave as if it is a single entity, not thousands of independently growing things. That is the wonder of this place, is it not?”
“Filaree seemed to think so,” Elion replied. “Do you think it is leading us to any particular point?”
“If what I said is correct, then it is most likely leading us away from any vulnerable areas if such places exist here,” Tomas said.
“And I suspect that we are the only vulnerable things here.”
“My sense of direction is quite upside down,” Tomas observed after a few more minutes of riding. “Now I understand why no army or invader has ever ventured into these woods. Avalain has a very secure border on this side of the Chilmark!”
“How far do you want to walk before you contact your brother?” Elion asked, reminding Tomas of the reason why they came here in the first place.
“I think it would be best if we let the woods answer that for us.”
“We could wander this way forever, Tomas. We could not find our way out now if we tried.”
“No, you are right. A masterful defense!” Tomas observed, more impressed with the Winding Woods than he was fearful of the possible consequences of having entered them.
The landscape changed as they walked. Many different types of trees appeared before them and behind them. They crossed through a thick grove of fragrant trees laden with succulent fruit and then through a dark section where the ground was barren of all debris except for a soft covering of pine needles that muffled the sound of their steps. The path that they were being led down crossed over many small rivulets of sparkling water and an ever changing terrain. Though the sky pierced the treetops in places, the ground seemed to be illuminated by its own source of light. It was much brighter on the surface than it should have been considering how dense and copious the treetops were.
“Are we making any progress, do you think?” Tomas asked after they walked for another twenty minutes or so.
“It is hard to tell. We cannot look back and determine how far we have come. I am just hoping for a sign of some kind. As you said before, maybe the woods will bring us to a point where we feel we belong.”
As the elf spoke those words, they turned the comer of a small bend in the path and came up against a solid wall of trees. Both of them focused their attention ahead and then they waited for an opening to appear so that they could proceed forward, but no such opportunity presented itself.
“We have reached an impasse!” Elion observed.
“Most definitely!” Tomas concurred as he looked to their rear and saw that the trees had completely filled in the space behind them, leaving them both very little room to maneuver.
Their horses were stamping their feet into the moist earth, practically dancing within the limited area in which they now found themselves.
“Now
what?” Elion asked.
“It was your idea to come here, Elion,” Tomas reminded him. “What do you suggest?”
“Maybe this was not such a bright idea after all,” he replied red-faced.
Suddenly, leaves began flying in all directions around them and the air took on a colored hue as if they were gazing through a green tinted glass. They both found themselves swatting leaves from the air before them like they were swarms of attacking insects that were threatening to overwhelm them, yet no wind could be felt. The surface upon which they stood was quickly piling up with loose foliage, frightening the horses, and causing them to rear up nervously as the debris quickly mounted around them. An earthy odor permeated the atmosphere; heavy and strong. They could practically taste the leaves and the pine needles in each breath, and they felt as if the essence of the trees was entering their bodies through each and every pore.
Through the chaos of the moment, they could see the leaves rustling visibly in a big tree directly in front of them, causing it to bend and dip toward them, yet still they could feel no breeze passing through. Then, to the right of it they heard yet another sound of foliage in motion, but the air remained as calm and still as possible. The branches began to creak and the leaves rose and fell in response, as if the trees were carrying on a conversation in a language all their own. This cacophony grew louder and louder until they could barely hear themselves think. Surrounded as they were by a ring of trees, they sat upon their jittery horses and watched cautiously and listened carefully to the music of the Winding Woods.
Abruptly the sound ceased, and the leaves and debris that had been swirling everywhere, fell to the ground and lost all their animation at once. The wall of pines visibly swayed left and right and then parted revealing a massively large, craggy old tree behind it. All was now as still as could be, and Tomas and Elion respectfully awaited the forest’s next move. They stared intently at the huge tree that stood before them.
A slender tendril broke free of the tangle of branches and bark that covered the ancient tree, and it floated gracefully through the air toward Tomas. He sat perfectly still and did not flinch as it curled around his neck and slid across his face. Elion was about to raise his voice in concern, but Tomas calmed him with a look. The green strand slithered down the front of his shirt and curled around the ring that hung there. It lingered upon it for a moment before withdrawing from his tunic. It then hovered for another second in front of his face, touched each of his eyelids tenderly with its soft, rounded tip and then floated back to the main body of the tree.
They could both hear a rustling sound again coming from all directions as if the trees were chattering loudly. As soon as the noise stopped, the path upon which they stood widened considerably, though the movement of the trees was again impossible to detect. If they looked to the right, all was still, and when they returned their gazes to the left once again, all was rearranged. Even if they looked in opposite directions from each other, the movement still occurred outside of their range of vision.
Tomas raised his finger slowly to his lips, and indicated to Elion that he should remain silent. They had both given up their efforts to spot the motion, and they stared instead at the old, gnarled tree in front of them. Tomas reached into his shirt and grasped the leather thong upon which the ring hung, and he pulled it out. Gently, he released it and let it hang exposed upon his tunic. They both sat up straight in their saddles and waited.
The foliage had arranged itself in such a way so that they now stood in the middle of a circle open only at one end, surrounded by a solid row of dense pine trees, backed by graceful, incredibly compact willows, which were in turn backed by enormous trees of all different kinds that shot high into the sky and overhung the entire area. They formed a canopy over them and sheltered them protectively. Before the two visitors loomed the aged tree. Elion was staring at it raptly, and for a moment he swore to himself that he saw the image of a face concealed amidst the thick and wrinkled hide. He looked quickly at Tomas, who smiled and nodded to him. Tomas bowed his head and raised his right hand in salute, whereupon the space that existed before them closed as the trees seemed to spring to attention, completing the circle and obscuring their view of the tree beyond.
“It is safe to dismount now,” he said to Elion. “We have been accepted by the forest. You were right. It will be secure for us here.”
“I had my doubts for a moment there,” Elion admitted. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Elion,” he replied with certainty. “There are no signs of evil here. Though these trees are not as aware as the Lalas, they recognize the difference between good and evil.”
“Tomas? Did you see the face too?” Elion asked.
“Yes. I did,” he replied, and the elf sighed with relief.
“I thought I was imagining it. Filaree told me that the old legend about Pembar mutating into a tree in his final years was true. I just did not believe her until today!”
“There is little left of the man anymore,” Tomas said.
“Oh? How could you tell? I merely saw the image, but I felt nothing unusual,” Elion asked curiously.
“Did you notice how indistinct his image was? When the filament touched my eyes I think he tried to communicate with me, but he was unable to. He could not manage the thought process needed for speech any longer.”
“He recognized the ring though. It was clear that he knew just where to find it.”
“The relic emanates power all the time. Many could locate it. But he did accept us because of it,” Tomas said.
“Something tells me Tomas, that you would have been accepted here with or without the ring,” Elion said.
“We should get started,” Tomas said, changing the subject. “I have waited my whole lifetime for this moment,” he replied.
“And you must wait still longer!” a strange, female voice spoke out, shocking them both.
Elion drew his blade from his belt and stood protectively beside Tomas, while brandishing it before him.
“Who said that? Where are you? Show yourself!” the elf demanded.
“I am right here behind you, Prince Elion. Have no fear of me,” she replied.
Tomas and Elion turned around, and like the trees which seemed to be in one place for a moment and then gone or relocated without any sign of movement, a woman appeared right before their eyes seemingly out of nowhere.
“Did you not sense me, Tomas?” she asked, as if she knew the boy well.
“No,” he answered simply, but he kept eyeing her curiously all the while.
“Strange,” she muttered to herself. “I expected you would have recognized me after having spent so much time with the Chosen from Tamarand,” she said, referring to Robyn. “You can put that knife away. You will not need it against me, my fine young Prince.”
“Who are you? Why are you here?” Elion asked, still suspicious. “Be careful, Tomas! I am mistrustful of people we do not know who use our names so familiarly,” he warned.
“I am Sidra,” she replied and then she waited a moment to see if recognition appeared upon their faces. “Now you too can speak my name,” she smiled, revealing her large, white teeth.
“The name is unfamiliar to me,” Tomas said. “You know Robyn dar Tamarand?” he asked.
“Yes. And he knows me. I am disappointed he did not speak of me to you. It would have saved me some time.”
“He did not,” Elion asserted. “And how do we know for certain that you are a friend of his?”
“You must take my word for it! I would not lie. Can you not sense that for yourselves?”
“She speaks the truth, Elion,” Tomas said while still staring closely at her.
“How did you get here?” the elf asked. “Why should we trust you?” Elion questioned. He was still not willing to take any chances until he was certain she was indeed a friend.
“Because I tell you that you can!” she replied, her patience clearly waning. “My time here is limited. There are things I must say
to you, and I cannot waste precious moments on explanations. Pembar has been generous enough to allow me to intervene myself. The Winding Woods might otherwise have dealt with you both in a different manner. He sensed the danger as well.”
The woman was tall, taller than both Tomas and Elion. Her hair was long and black and it hung loosely down her back. It was woven with tiny, fragrant white flowers, the odor from which permeated the entire area. She was not a delicate lady, though she was quite beautiful in her own way. Her hands were broad and her fingers were masculine and tipped with short, white nails. The features of her face were rather bold. Her nose, though long, was well formed and her nostrils flared as she spoke, like a mare out of breath. Her black eyebrows were thick and seemed almost as if they were painted across her forehead. Bright green eyes sparkled beneath them, and they stood out conspicuously against her whitest of white skin.
“It is not wise for you to contact your brother now,” she said to Tomas. “The eleventh shard is not yet secured.”
“Do you know what she is talking about, Tomas?” Elion asked him.
“I know of the shards, Elion. This one though, I do not,” he replied.
“I can protect you for a time, but the Dark One will know if you communicate with one another. You must not,” she insisted.
“Sidra? Have I pronounced it correctly?” Tomas asked with a respectful tone, and she nodded in response. “We have come here because the need was great, or so I thought. How can we know that what you say is correct? I do not mean to say that you are speaking anything but what you believe to be true, but how can we know that you are right?”
Sidra walked up to Tomas and placed her hands upon his as he sat atop his horse. She gazed deeply into his eyes.
“Look at me, Tomas,” she commanded. “It would be a grave mistake if you were to attempt to speak with Davmiran now. He is less experienced than you. He does not have the skills that he needs to protect himself and to protect that which he will require for the Quest. Not yet. He is like a candle in a storm, and the winds of Sedahar are blowing his way. I have sheltered his flame for the time being, but I cannot do so forever. He and his friends are safe for now. But his yearning for contact with you is dangerous. He is not strong enough to resist it. But you are.”
The Shards Page 39
