If not for the Moulant, the remaining two would have been lost forever in the tangle of brush and brambles, eventually becoming stone deaf from the constant assault upon their eardrums. It was so hard to know if one was going forwards or in circles, or even backwards, due to the raging winds wreaking havoc on their senses. But, Calyx was an extraordinary guide and protector, and Cairn neither feared for their safety nor their ability to reach the lakeside with his loyal friend in the lead.
An earsplitting crash shattered the momentary silence, far louder than any previous disturbances. A huge tree came booming down directly in front of them, forcing the group to run swiftly backwards to avoid being crushed under its weight. After the dust settled, they deftly stepped through the fallen branches and over the prostrate trunk, as the wind immediately kicked up considerably in their faces. The air was thick with debris, forcing them to protect their eyes and making breathing difficult. Cairn and Tomas huddled together, the elder sheltering the younger with his arms and body, while Calyx dauntlessly stood before them to deflect any large and dangerous objects that might fly into them from the accelerating explosions of wind. The Forest of the Winds clearly did not want them to leave without exacting its toll.
Forcing their way forward, capes and fur and hair standing almost horizontal to the earth, making slow and tedious progress, they finally emerged from the thickest of the forest vegetation. They still had a ways to go before they would come forth from the woods, and the sluggish pace was beginning to concern Cairn, as they needed to cross the lake before the sun rose. To be caught in broad daylight on a small raft in the middle of the lake would be suicide. They would be an easy and tasty meal for the Selgays. Well, Cairn and Tomas would be, at least. Calyx could save himself, but it would be nearly impossible for the big cat to do much of anything to save them under those circumstances. Cairn forced such thoughts from his mind, not choosing to dwell on the possible, but only upon what obstacles were here and now, real and in their direct path, as was his nature.
Driving themselves into the wind, step by step, with Cairn assisting the boy as much as possible, they finally reached what appeared to be the end of the tree line, when a silence overtook the forest within an instant, the violent gales ceasing completely. Nothing moved. Even the dust appeared to drop to the ground as if its single source of animation had been withdrawn all at once.
The small group huddled together, their eyes darting from side to side, not knowing what to expect when suddenly, a voice louder than the previously deafening wind and seemingly emanating from all directions simultaneously, broke the short lived but ominous silence.
“Who dares to invade my lands without permission?” it thundered in an incredibly deep tone.
Not knowing where to direct his answer, Cairn turned to the deepest part of the wood and replied courageously, “I am Cairn of Thermaye.” Pointing to Calyx he continued, “This is my companion Calyx, a Moulant, born of the forest, and the boy is my new found ward, Tomas of Pardeau. We meant you no disrespect in entering your realm without sanction, but I humbly regret that I was unaware that these woods were inhabited by anyone whose permission was required. I beg your sincere pardon if I was misinformed,” Cairn stated respectfully.
The response came quickly and from all directions, assaulting their senses like the wind, “Well, you have been misinformed!” the still disembodied voice echoed. “I let no one pass through here that I do not approve of. These woods have been my home for tiels upon tiels untold, and I protect and defend them from what I and only I deem to be unacceptable!” the voice boomed in the otherwise perfect stillness of the night. “Move out into the open so I can gaze upon you. You smell human. Have you axes with you?”
“No, I promise. We have none in our company. We only meant to traverse the Forest of the Winds as it was the quickest route to the lake. We must cross the mountains and reach the southern city of Pardatha as soon as we can,” Cairn replied, his voice clear and calm.
“What dire business drives you through my lands?”
Cairn was unwilling to divulge too much information, as he was not even certain to whom he spoke, but he believed that speaking no less than the truth would be unwise.
“Baladar, Lord Protector of Pardatha has summoned me in order to educate his ward. These two,” he pointed to Calyx and Tomas, “are accompanying me on my journey.”
“You speak honestly, Cairn of Thermaye. You seem trustworthy. I have observed you since you stepped into the forest. Nothing here goes unnoticed by me,” the voice said boldly. “But the trees did not warn me of your approach. Why? Why did the Lalas not tell me you were coming?”
Still cowering a little before this unknown entity, Cairn began to search the area around them for a sign of the source. Suddenly, a swirling gust of wind appeared to their left in a small clearing about ten yards away. As the swirling increased in velocity, drawing into it leaves and twigs and anything loose in its immediate vicinity, a clear and distinct shape seemed to form in its center. The force of the suction obliged the small group to hold onto one another in order to prevent themselves from being sucked into the gyrating mass. Even the big Moulant had to anchor his paws deep into the slippery surface to avert tumbling forward.
“If you are more comfortable being able to see with human eyes who speaks to you, gaze now upon my countenance. I have many faces, most of which you would not recognize, as I am made of the wind, not the earth. But see me now, and be not afraid.”
The debris coagulated quickly until a face of sorts was visible, the eyes of which were comprised of beautifully shaped leaves, twigs formed the eyebrows, while fruits, berries and multicolored leaves finished off the features. It hovered in the air before them.
“There, is that better?” the wind creature asked, seeming to warm considerably to the group.
“Thank you, yes,” Cairn responded for them all, and continued, “Who are you, if I may be so presumptuous as to inquire?”
“Yes, yes, I know. Humans need names,” the wind creature said, annoyed and impatient, yet somehow unthreatening. “If you wish to call me something then call me Percepton, protector of the Forest of the Winds. Since time untold I have kept these woods safe and healthy. My partnership with the Lalas has been long and fruitful.
“But, of late, evil things have entered. My borders have been violated. Those who tried have been unsuccessful, or should I say, they have not been permitted to leave once they have entered.
“Yet, my trees cry out in warning. Times are ripe with change, some good, some evil. I must determine for certain what side you three serve if I am to let you travel through my lands. Why was I not told of your approach?” he said once again rhetorically, his eyebrows arching high. “I need time. I cannot make these judgments hastily. Where is my help? Why do I not hear from the trees anymore?” Percepton cried out in anguish.
“You must wait here until I can decide what to do. I must seek advice. I must think. Don’t move, any of you,” he thundered as the wind picked up around the travelers and formed a circle of swirling leaves, hemming them in.
At that moment, Tomas leapt out from behind the shelter of Cairn’s body and blurted out above the din of the blowing litter, while hanging on tightly to Calyx’s tail, “I am not afraid of you. Why do you scare us so? We mean you no harm. If you are good and noble, then you would know that we are of noble purpose too.”
The boy closed his eyes. He stood perfectly still and said, “I can sense that you are good, that you know we do not choose to disturb your lands. Please let us continue. We only wish to proceed on to the lake and have no intention of taking anything that does not belong to us,” he said with such sincerity that Cairn was quite proud and astonished once again by the maturity and courage of the lad.
Tomas spoke directly into Percepton’s fluttering face. “The Lalas mourn the passing of one of their own. Promanthea tells me so. I feel the pain too. Otherwise, they would have advised you of our coming,” he said, sadly but with certainty.
The boy said this so sweetly and with such tenderness that Cairn raised his head, wondering to himself how much more he must know that he had not yet spoken of.
Immediately, the circle of their captivity vanished as Persepton began to speak. “Do you think so?” He sounded thoughtful. “I believe you. Yes, you speak the truth, young man, and you are wiser than your young years might indicate. I feel it now,” he said, the leaves of his eyes crushed together, simulating closure. “I agree. They would have informed me themselves,” Percepton said gleefully and with renewed energy. The expression of joy was short lived, though, as the reality of what Tomas described suddenly struck him. “Which tree died?” Percepton queried suddenly. “Do you know? Was it Acire or Mintar? Oh, I hope not Mintar. But it would be no better if it were Acire.”
The apparition formed of the earth approached Tomas. As it reached him, Cairn was forced backwards, away from the boy. He could not move closer, repelled by the steady gusts pushing him aside as if he were a magnet meeting his opposite pole. The dust and leaves enveloped Tomas entirely, obscuring him from the sight of his companions. But, try as he might, Cairn could do nothing to prevent it. Calyx raised his snout to the air and growled, but even his sound was drowned out by the din of the moment.
Cairn could barely see Tomas’ outline within the swirling mass. It appeared to him as if he was still standing, but it was impossible to be certain. The forest encircling them grew calm and the only motion he could detect was within the orbit of activity that Percepton created around Tomas. For some reason, Cairn was not fearful that harm would come to the boy. Nevertheless, the moments passed slowly, and he was helpless to hasten them. He walked as close to the sphere of motion as he could, but he was unable to see or hear anything that occurred within it.
As Cairn stood watching, impotent and ineffectual, he saw Tomas walk calmly out of the spiraling circle that was the wind creature. Percepton’s crude features assembled themselves once more before them all, and then he spoke.
“I will allow you to depart, and I will give you my blessing too. Take what you need from my lands and may the First guide you and nourish you on your journey. Go now and I will await the trees’ communication.”
The ancient being moved slowly to the side, speaking to himself all the while.
“Yes, they would have told me if they could have. I should have known that myself. You are a very bright young man, my son, and I am getting too old, and my wits are getting dull with time. Shame, shame on me! Go. Do what you must. I have much to consider. I must prepare now. Do not waste my time any further,” he exclaimed, feigning impatience. “Go! The fabric weaves of its own will, but I cannot simply stand by and watch.”
After that final, penetrating remark, the apparition ceased to be, the pieces dropped to the ground, and it was once more dormant as before. Percepton was gone and a pathway had emerged in front of them that led to a clearing. They suddenly found themselves gasping at the sight of a vast expanse of azure blue water that lay immediately ahead of them.
There was a short continuance of rocky shoreline that began immediately at the forest’s edge, upon which they now stood. Facing the lake, Cairn sheltering Tomas directly with his arms and body, happy to have the boy back beside him, steadfast Calyx at their side, vigilant and tense, they gazed out upon their destination. In the distance, they could clearly see the magnificent sweep of the majestic Thorndar mountains beyond which lay the city of Pardatha that harbored Baladar and the boy.
The stars were still shining brightly in the night sky, but Cairn knew that there remained perhaps no more than three hours of darkness before the normally welcome sun would rear its now dangerously illuminating head over the horizon. They still needed to construct a raft capable of transporting them across, and although Cairn was deft at such a task, it would nevertheless use up at least a precious hour of the few that they had remaining. The broken trees lying haphazardly along the shoreline were what they needed to gather, and good fortune had left them an ample supply.
“We must not tarry here!” Cairn warned.
Motioning Calyx to follow him, he grasped the end of a large, straight sapling and dragged it toward the beach. Calyx quickly understood what needed to be done and the Moulant sprang away, half pushing with his enormous paws, half rolling with his strong snout, tree after tree to the area Cairn had brought his to. Tomas, too, ran in search of more trees, smaller but stout.
When Cairn felt they had gathered a sufficient number for a raft that could hold the three of them, he began to wade in the water and pull out the strong reeds that grew upon the muddy shore. Tomas followed along and soon there was a pile about three feet high, laid out lengthwise next to the timber. Cairn meticulously began the task of weaving the reeds through the trees, securing them with a box knot that jutted up through the now forming planks. Looping a new reed through the last knot and tying it down tightly, he continued to affix one tree to the next. Tomas jumped to his aid, and clearly being a quick learner, he imitated perfectly the manner in which Cairn was constructing the conveyance.
In less than one hour, the raft had taken shape. Now, two long poles would be required to push the raft forwards and they needed to be flat at one end as well in order to serve as paddles when the water was too deep to pole them ahead. Calyx was sent to fetch the multipurpose oars, and while he was gone, Cairn took a stick of beeswax out of his knapsack, lit a dry willowtail with a spark from his flint, and melted the wax over each of the knots holding the raft together. Shortly, Calyx returned to the raft with two lengthy pieces of wood in his mouth, suitable for the task required of them. He dropped them at Cairn’s feet and stood waiting for further instructions from his friend.
After the knots were securely fastened with the wax, and the strength of the vehicle was tested by both Cairn and Tomas, together, the boy and the man slid the bound wood into the lapping water. Cairn grasped Tomas’ hand and helped him climb atop, following closely behind without hesitation. He then motioned to Calyx to join them, as the Moulant, although clearly uncomfortable with the prospect of leaving the solid shore, leapt aboard too.
Cairn dug the long pole into the soft mud of the shoreline and then propelled the small raft out into the dark and forbidding waters, as the two human travelers gazed expectantly ahead. The damp chill of the evening air caused the fog of their breath to billow ominously from their mouths and their skin to prickle in an anxious response.
Chapter Seventeen
Elion woke with the first rays of sunlight and hastened to gather his belongings together, not wanting to waste any time before he began his journey home. Glancing at the sleeping boy, he felt reassured once again that hope was not lost, that right here lay a key to the puzzle surrounding their recent losses. And, suddenly, he was overcome with a feeling of concern, a wariness that crept over him compelling him to be cautious and prudent in his travels to come. He could not just leave casually now and continue to travel openly and without fear. The lands he had traversed so far, though strange and foreign at times, were relatively safe. He encountered nothing more than concern on the part of the townsfolk and villagers he had occasion to befriend during his long trip.
Elion did witness the passing of a great Lalas, and the memory haunted him still, causing great anguish whenever he allowed himself to dwell upon the recollection of that day, sending him into a deep depression that he had to fight to rid himself of. That event he would tell of when he finally arrived home, and the thought of that eventuality weighed upon his soul. There would be no avoiding it though, as his father needed to know that such things were taking place among the human population as well. But, as far as witnessing the evil one’s minions, he had done no such thing.
Talk of Trolls and dark lords and black sorcerers was rampant among the country folk, but as far as he was concerned, it was only talk. He had seen no evidence of Caeltin D’Are Agenathea, or Colton, as the human race pronounced it, nor his retainers anywhere within the vast lands he navigated. Alt
hough the Northern Elves heard the same stories that he heard time and time again, they too neither witnessed anything directly nor indirectly. But, the tales were increasing in frequency as time passed. Voyagers returning from the south had strange and disturbing stories to tell of creatures they observed, changes in the normal weather patterns, occasionally even decimated villages whose inhabitants were left homeless and adrift, and other happenings more terrifying than any spoken of further north.
Something was definitely wrong, and it was only a matter of time before evidence of the evil manifested itself among his own kind. Heretofore, even the Elves were disorganized, forsaking their ancient methods of communication, allowing their defenses to slacken. When the Lalas flourished, no people needed to fear, and therefore, they grew complacent in the face of prosperity and safety. But now, as they withered and died more and more frequently, Elion felt that soon none would be safe. The entire world was in jeopardy, and all the good people of the earth would forthwith suffer. He shuddered just thinking about the possibilities and how vulnerable his own kinsmen were. They had relied so heavily upon the trees, what would life be like without them?
Stop it! Stop thinking this way! We are far from there yet. And with this boy… He gazed at Davmiran … there is hope still!
Elion laid the lad once again on his cape and he used his Elfin sight to scout the immediate vicinity for any evidence of danger before venturing outside of his shelter. When he was comfortable that no menace lay in wait, he moved down the small hill.
The Twins Page 14
