by Amy Neftzger
Kelsey glanced down at her hand. She took a deep breath as she looked through the orchard trees at the rows of wolves lined up on the other side.
“Can you heal at all? Maybe just a little?” she asked Roland.
“No. But I can contact Megan for some guidance,” he offered.
“Thank you,” Kelsey said as she turned her attention back to Maggie. It would be a long journey home if she had to deal with a broken hand along the way. It would also leave them somewhat unprotected, and this worried her.
Maggie cautiously tested her damaged leg and put her weight on it briefly as she took a step forward. She could walk, but she moved slowly, and she limped.
“How do you feel?” Kelsey asked with concern.
“A little dizzy, but I’ll be fine.”
Kelsey nodded with empathy. She was feeling light-headed herself.
“I think Bardou is ready to negotiate,” Kelsey said as they took a few steps. “Do you feel up to talking with him?”
“I always feel like having a conversation,” Maggie replied. She smiled again.
“Good. I’ll help you get there.”
Maggie put her arm around Kelsey and slowly made her way out to where Bardou was still waiting. On their way through the orchard, they passed several bodies, both human and wolf. When Maggie saw Sister Clementine’s lifeless body resting on the ground, she turned her head away.
“She didn’t have a chance,” Kelsey said. “She didn’t understand what she was up against, and she wouldn’t listen to anyone.”
“I know.” Maggie’s tear glistened briefly in the sunlight before she wiped it away. She focused her eyes on Bardou as they made their way slowly near him. As they approached, the wolf took several steps forward from the pack so that he could talk more privately.
“I’m sorry that the situation has come to what it is, and I appreciate your patience,” Maggie said to the wolf. “I’d like to resolve this issue. There should be no fighting where hope is involved.”
“I’m done fighting,” Bardou replied. He repeated what he had told Kelsey earlier.
“What’s changed your mind?” Maggie asked.
“I was fighting with determination. I thought I needed the hope, no matter how much it cost the pack or me. If I didn’t get the hope to pay off my debt, it would be the end of the world for me. But then it was as if my mind had suddenly cleared, and now I don’t believe there was a debt.” He paused to lick his nose. “We wolves are being threatened. We were told that if we didn’t repay a large debt with hope, something terrible would happen. Our lives depend upon providing hope to someone else, but wolves are scavengers and have no hope to spare. We’ve been forced to steal. We know this is wrong, but now that I don’t believe in the debt, I don’t think this should continue.”
“Are the consequences real?” Maggie asked. “What will happen if you don’t keep supplying hope to the person who wants it?”
“I don’t know,” Bardou replied. “But it makes me angry that I’ve been used in this manner. I don’t like someone bullying my pack for selfish gain. Wolves have enough problems with survival.”
“Can’t you just call off the pack?” Kelsey asked. In her mind, it appeared to be a simple matter of troops obeying a commander.
“It won’t work. The others don’t believe as I do. If I walk away, they’ll elect a new leader and come back to finish the job.”
“How are your lives in danger?” Maggie said. “And who is this person who’s been threatening you?”
“I don’t know much about him, and I’ve never seen his face, but he goes by the name of Crane. I have no memory of exactly how our lives were in danger. It doesn’t even make sense now. I think Mr. Crane has been lying to us. He only wanted to use us to steal hope for him.”
“What does this person want with so much hope? After all, it’s not something that can be stored and saved up for later.”
“I don’t know. Sometimes he would tell us to eat the hope so that we had the strength to continue these missions to steal from you.” Bardou looked over his shoulder and saw that the pack was still sitting in formation, panting heavily as they waited for their next instruction. “I’m sorry, but I don’t even know how he convinced us that we should steal it for him or that our lives would be in danger if we didn’t obey.”
Bardou shook his head slowly and then licked an open wound on his front leg a few times. “All I know is that we were told to continue stealing the hope until our debt was paid. I kept having a dream about choking, and in my dream a bird saved me, but I don’t know how. It seems silly now when I think about it. I’m pretty sure it was just a dream and it never happened.”
“We need a solution,” Maggie said.
“It could be a spell,” Kelsey interjected when everyone else was silently lost in thought over the perplexing situation. “The sorcerer must be behind this!”
“I agree. I’m sure he is,” Maggie replied. “But knowing who’s to blame doesn’t solve our current problem.”
“The immediate need is to stop the fighting,” Kelsey stated. Then she turned to Bardou and asked, “How can we convince the other wolves to stop fighting? Can we negotiate with them?”
“No,” Bardou replied. “There are too many of them, and most of them won’t trust you. They’ll start the battle again.” He looked at the sheathed knife strapped to Kelsey’s hip. “When you cut me, I saw through the lie. That’s when I knew we didn’t owe anyone anything, and we certainly didn’t need to steal anyone else’s hope.”
“Well … should I cut every member of the pack?” Kelsey offered as if she were handing out cookies and milk. Maggie chuckled briefly at the thought.
“They won’t understand. It will only incite the ones you haven’t cut to begin fighting again. We need a better solution.”
“I have a suggestion,” Maggie announced after a short period of thought. “And I’m certain it will work.”
“What is it?” Kelsey asked.
“Sister Clementine wanted to give the wolves the trees,” Maggie said.
“We can’t give away the king’s hope,” Kelsey replied.
“No,” Maggie said as she nodded. “But we can share it.” She turned to Bardou. “Your pack needs a continual supply of hope, so you’re stealing from others. But what if you could grow your own supply? We could make cuttings from these trees so that you could plant your own orchard. After a bit of time, you’ll be able to grow your own hope.”
“That won’t help at all. It could take years for them to cultivate trees that are large enough to produce hope!’ Kelsey exclaimed.
“If an ordinary person is growing the hope,” Maggie agreed with a knowing smile. “But if we had someone who’s very good with plants, it won’t take as long.”
“The Brothers and Sisters here at the abbey are regular farmers,” Kelsey said. “They don’t have any special skills or fertilizers to speed up the growth process. Even if they do everything perfectly for the trees, it will still take years before the new cuttings produce hope. There’s no one here who can speed up the process.”
“I didn’t say he was here.”
“Who’s going to help?” Kelsey asked. She felt a wave of dizziness, but it quickly passed, and she asked the question again.
“Nicholas,” Maggie answered with confidence. “And he doesn’t need to be here.”
Chapter
22
The Path of Discernment
“Our next lesson is on discernment,” Moss announced.
“How to tell right from wrong?” Nicholas asked.
“Discernment is more complex than a simple right-and-wrong issue. When you have discernment, it means that you can separate things that are different — reality and illusion, for example.”
“Or white chocolate and vanilla,” Newton interjected. “They’re not the same at all, but they can look exactly alike.”
“Food is irrelevant, Newton,” Moss said.
“Speak for yourself, Moss. B
ut if you had a chocolate allergy, then I’d bet you’d care a whole lot more.”
“No one is allergic to chocolate here.”
“So,” Nicholas said, interrupting the exchange between Moss and Newton before it became an argument, “as we discussed in the lesson with the clock hands, part of discernment is examining all the potential realities to figure out which one is true?”
“Yes,” Moss said as he raised one of his fingers in the air to make a point. Nicholas could see that the hair on Moss’ arm was thicker than he remembered. Moss continued speaking, “Reality and unreality are complex. Some people see what they want, while others see what they’re told to see. Very few learn to see clearly for themselves.”
“When people see what’s real, do they recognize it as being real? Do they know the difference?” Nicholas asked. He was thinking about all of Moss' strange ways and wondered if Moss could actually see reality, since he appeared to live in a world all his own.
“To some extent, but not always. That’s why we all need discernment, but it’s a particularly important lesson for you.” Nicholas nodded that he understood, and Moss continued. “Now, what’s the difference between a ceiling and a wall?”
Nicholas immediately looked at Newton for guidance in answering this odd question. The gargoyle motioned with his paw in a circular manner, indicating that Nicholas should go ahead and answer, so Nicholas did.
“One is over our heads, and one isn’t,” Nicholas said with a hint of a question in his voice.
“Good. What else?” Moss stood up and paced. As he moved about shuffling his feet, Nicholas noticed that he was barefoot, and the hair on his legs had grown unusually long and thick. There was also hair on the bottoms of Moss’ feet.
“Are you OK?” Nicholas asked, pointing to Moss' ankles. Moss paused in stride and followed the direction of Nicholas' finger until his eyes rested on his own exposed lower leg.
“Oh, the hair!” he exclaimed. “Well, it’s not quite long enough yet, but it will get there in time. Give it another day or two,” he replied dismissively. “Now, what else makes a ceiling and a wall different?”
“It’s growing on the bottom of your feet.” As soon as Nicholas spoke, he realized he should have let the subject pass. He glanced at Newton, who slapped a paw on his forehead and closed his eyes.
“Yes, it’s not quite thick enough to protect my feet from the chill in the stone floor. Much quieter, though. It softens the step nicely.”
Newton raised one eyebrow and lowered it again, which Nicholas took as a sign to move on and stop asking Moss questions. He returned to the lesson.
“The difference between the ceiling and a wall?” Nicholas asked for clarification.
“Yes,” Moss nodded. “What are those differences?”
The distinctions appeared to be a little too obvious to Nicholas, so he took a moment to examine the ceiling and floor in the room where they were sitting to see if he had missed any details of importance. The plaster on the wall was a deep brown color and had some paintings hanging in various places, while the ceiling was painted white and had wax stains in circular splotches from where candles had been left burning too long in one place. The scorch mark from the weather lesson was still there, also. He described these differences to Moss.
“Very good. And sometimes the walls are brick, but the ceiling usually isn’t,” Moss added. “Correct?”
“Yes. Am I going to learn about construction?”
“Of course, but not of buildings,” Moss replied. “And often, the ceiling and walls are both covered in plaster, so you don’t know if they’re made of the same material or not. You’d have to remove the plaster in order to see for yourself, correct?”
Nicholas nodded. Moss began to hum to himself – another odd “Moss moment.” Nicholas was starting to wonder if Moss was going to finish the lesson or not, so he asked another question to get Moss’ attention.
“We’re talking about how walls and ceilings are made, but I’m not going to learn construction?”
“Correct,” Moss said with a smile but didn’t continue. Newton cleared his throat a few times until Moss’ mental detour finally ended. “Well, pathways are often the same. They look identical, but you can’t tell which one is which until you know how they’re constructed.”
“So, am I learning about road construction?”
“No,” Moss replied as he shook his head. “Follow along.”
Nicholas had no idea whether something relevant or something completely random was coming next, and finally said, “I’m not sure what this has to do with discernment …”
“Everything. It has everything to do with it. There are two types of pathways: those that lead to somewhere and those that lead away. Both are useful. You will need to learn how to make both kinds.”
“Make or discern these paths?” Nicholas asked for clarification. “One of these sounds like a lot more work than the other.”
“Both. Once you know how to create them, you will understand how these things are constructed, and you can discern them. It’s a lot like the weather.”
This made a little more sense, but Nicholas was still confused. He glanced at Newton for help.
“The weather that you created, not the weather outside,” Newton interjected.
“I’m handling this, Newton,” Moss said politely but firmly. “Don’t you have an appointment with some cookies or a pot roast?”
“I’m working on balancing my needs with the cookies’ needs,” Newton answered.
“Cookies don’t have needs,” Moss snapped.
“They do. Everything has needs. For example, I need to eat the cookies, but the cookies don’t need for me to eat them at this moment. It’s kind of a Zen thing.” Newton replied with an air of authority. Moss studied the gargoyle’s calm expression before speaking again.
“They’re all gone, aren’t they?” Moss suddenly asked.
“Yes,” Newton admitted.
“You ate them all earlier, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Moss and Newton stared each other down. Moss squinted and was about to speak again when Nicholas attempted to redirect the conversation.
“Roads and buildings,” Nicholas interjected. “We were discussing something about making and discerning, and it involved the weather.”
“Yes,” Moss agreed as he turned away from the gargoyle and began pacing again. “Roads and buildings have rules for construction, and you can tell what’s being built by what rules were followed in the process,” he explained. “For example, if something was built vertically, it’s a wall and if it was built horizontally it’s probably a ceiling, even if it’s made out of the same material. These structures are supported differently, also. Walls have vertical support systems alone, while ceilings have both horizontal beams as well as vertical supports.”
“I think I understand.”
“Just as buildings have different types of components, there are different types of pathways. Truth leads to one place, and lies lead to another completely different place.”
“Are these physical locations?” Nicholas asked.
“Sometimes,” Moss answered as he nodded thoughtfully. “There are also easy paths as well as not-so-easy ones. The most difficult pathways to find and follow are made of thought. Thoughts are like the diamonds of the magical world.” Moss paused to laugh heartily at his own joke. “Because diamonds are the hardest material objects in the physical world … and they’re used to cut other things.”
Nicholas and Newton both stared back expressionless. “Well-constructed thoughts are considered sharp. You’ll understand better when you’re my age.”
“Jokes aren’t like wine. They don’t get better with age. They’re more like milk. They go sour over time,” Newton replied flatly.
“All I’m saying is that in time you’ll come to appreciate the perspective from which the humor originated,” Moss replied. “But never mind that, we have some pathways to build.”
“How do we do that?” Nicholas asked.
“We start with what we know and fill in the blanks.”
“Can we start with something simple? And something that doesn’t have to do with the sorcerer.”
“I always start simply,” Moss announced. “Paths that lead somewhere are about growth.”
“For example,” Newton interrupted, “paths that lead to the kitchen also lead to growth in Moss' waistline.”
“Enough, Newton! I’m not the one with the huge appetite.” Moss snapped and then continued. “As I was saying, paths that lead to truth involve growth. However, paths that lead away from truth can lead to any one of the multiple unrealities ...”
As Moss was speaking, a hawk abruptly landed on the window sill and began squawking wildly. It was talking far too fast for Nicholas to translate everything, but Nicholas understood that someone was in “grave danger.”
Chapter
23
A Conversation for the Birds
“Has Roland sent a bird?” Maggie asked as Kelsey returned to the discussion with Bardou on the edge of the orchard.
“Yes,” Kelsey confirmed.
“Good,” Maggie replied. “Once Nicholas agrees to help grow the plants, we can make the cuttings and send the wolves on their way to cultivate their own hope.”
“This could work,” Kelsey said with admiration. She recalled how Nicholas had carried the flame through the City of Eternal Beauty. If he could make an impact on the trees without having to travel to the orchard, then Maggie’s plan would work.
“I know you,” Bardou said to Roland.
“We’ve met before.”
“Old friends,” Bardou agreed with a nod of his head.
“That wolf is not such a bad guy,” Kelsey whispered to Maggie. “He likes Roland.”
“You have an odd criterion for judging character,” Maggie said with a smile.
