She spun around.
A limb of one of the fir-like trees clamped onto the collar of his jacket.
As Ysmena had taught her, Lyra narrowed her gaze. Looking through lowered eyelashes, she visualized the aura of the attacking tree before she stepped confidently to his trunk and placed a hand on the bark. Using the frequencies of the tree’s aura, she sent info about her own power along the same range of wavelengths.
In turn, the male fir communicated to her, I am a sentry with the duty of dispelling intruders. While my neighbors and I recognize you from before, the three men with you seem foreign, especially the scraggly two in the rear whose powers are totally unreadable.
They are my friends and will not harm you. We are looking for The Lady of the Forest. Can you direct us to her? Lyra conveyed a reply and waved her arm in the direction of the group.
Hundreds of twigs hung inches away from Cullen and the two Malificates, following their slightest movements.
The towering fir moved its branches in all directions, contacting trees nearby. Those touched sent the message to others on their far sides. Some even lifted their roots to the surface of the soil and moved like multi-legged spiders in order to reach the next in the chain.
The original sentry touched a limb gently to Lyra’s shoulder. Your intent is being disseminated among my kind, but other species remain unaware. Use care when you travel into a new strand of this wood. Follow this trail to the head. The rightmost path will lead you to our Lady.
Lyra stepped away and bowed to the tree. Thank you.
When she stood, his aura rippled toward. You are most welcome. Go in peace.
As the foursome continued along the path, firs on either side bent toward them but kept a wide distance from the travelers. The Malificates stayed right on Lyra’s heels, at times clipping the backs of her boots.
“These are trees, large plants, not beasts,” Lyra explained to them.
Angom tipped his head back and studied the tops of the trees, glancing ahead every now and then to keep up with the others. “These plants are so tall. I’ve seen roots grow down into our land and wondered how far they go up from those braces.”
“They have special tubes inside to move food and water,” she replied, trying to keep her botany lesson simple.
“But how do they attack like beasts?” Lesot asked.
“Most plants here in Dragonspeir are enchanted and able to move. In the Silva regions, Caliga and Nocens, they are powerful enough to bring harm,” Cullen added.
“Only in those two forests?” Lyra asked.
“For the most part, although remote regions might have some groves, and isolated magical trees do exist like Cranewort. Lyra, how did you connect to that tree?” Cullen asked.
“You look for its aura around the outside of the tree’s limbs. It looks like a ghost image, kind of pale gray or white against the sky.” She waved to one tree whose aura reached out to touch her as she passed. “Ysmena said some can be yellow or gold, but I’ve not seen any like that. After connecting, you can communicate from where you see its aura, or go closer, like I did, to be certain my messages transferred.”
“Interesting technique. Which tree species have you spoken with so far besides those fir? The rowan, I know from your recounts of traveling here.”
“A big hemlock that was nine hundred years old and some birches along the border with Versula.”
“I’ll have to try communicating with trees sometime. I’m not certain I can stay long enough this trip since I may need to return to treat Yasqu.”
“But, it’s the equinox party. Can’t Mimio take care of him until we get back?” Seeing the lines of concern in his brow, Lyra’s hopes fell.
“Perhaps. The Imperial Dragon is to send word to Ysmena about Yasqu’s status.”
“I hope he’s all right,” Lyra said, squelching her own personal desires.
“He’s getting good care.” Cullen smiled and picked up the pace. “If there’s something special to see here, let’s get moving.”
Heartened by his response, she moved on with a spring in her step.
As they continued through the forest, other types of trees mixed with the firs. Those isolated renegades lifted their roots and scurried toward the travelers, but the attacking trees were swiftly subdued by a tangled network.
At the trailhead, a heavy mist hung near the ground. Lyra and her friends shuffled to locate the right bend in the path. Soon, rail straight birches rose above the dense fog. The choral song of the circutamina swept down the trail to welcome them.
She paused to connect with the aura of one of the tallest birches. This time, her connection felt sure from a distance, and the tree waved them onward.
A few sent wisps of their auras to greet her as she passed. A gentle breeze floated a piece of birch bark to Lyra’s feet as one silently addressed her. It pleases us to see how well you were able to use our gift of bark, burning it to restore vigor to this man’s limbs. Their branches hovered above Cullen. We stand tall and proud to have helped.
“I feel them, as though they’re caressing my aura,” Cullen said with a shiver. “Seems a bit odd, but pleasant.”
“I wonder how they know that I restored the use of your arms and legs when I burned the birch bark. That was a gift from a birch way to the north near Versula.”
“That has to be more than a day’s walk. Amazing how they share information,” he remarked.
“Look at that show of lights!” Angom pointed ahead on the trail. “Twinkling in all directions.”
Lesot gave an admiring exclamation.
Lyra wished she could see the details the Malificates picked out, but only saw a bright glow. Her feet moved faster to the lilt of a merry song coming from the gathering.
A few minutes later, she could see what Angom described. Everywhere, white lights blinked from bends in branches, rested on knobs of roots, and swung on subtle twigs. Ahead in the center of a large glade, Ysmena’s lantern, hanging from the hook of her staff, glowed like a beacon cutting through the mist. Thousands of butterflies flitted around her light, in and out among the low-hanging branches.
The colorful insects were gay and harmless, but reminded Lyra of the black one that followed her in Aunt Jean’s garden before she left. She shivered at the thought of being watched.
Tree spirits, little more than a foot tall, chased after the butterflies. Dressed up for the festival, the tiny circutamina female folk wore dove-colored gowns, and the males wore leggings underneath flowing tunics. Billowing fabric and long white hair swept behind them as they skipped and danced to the lively song. Those who noticed the travelers whispered and cheered in high squeaky voices.
Some had formed a group of musicians. Several blew on pan pipes of various lengths, while two featured players plucked ornately carved harps.
Steaming tureens, heaped platters, and large jugs sat on crude tables formed from slate slabs.
In the center, stood two stately trees. Although trees on the perimeter swayed branches in time to the tunes, that pair remained rigid, slowly rotating in place.
Two forms slightly larger than circutamina sailed directly toward the foursome. Silvery wingtips reflected in the lights. “Master! Lyra!” Kenzo’s voice called out.
Noba’s more gangly shape flapped behind the gliding tiger owl.
Cullen held out his leather wristlet, but both of his aides missed the landing and tackled him. Luckily, Angom braced the wizard from behind and softened their fall into a friendly crumble of two men, owl, and pseudodragon.
Lyra, Lesot, and a chorus of tree spirits joined their laughter.
“Kenzo, what happened to your usual pinpoint landing? Are you well?” Cullen asked, running a hand over the bird’s feathers.
“Just fine—” a hiccup interrupted his speech.
“Ah, I know your weakness for ale. They must have some here.” Cullen laughed, even harder when Noba wiggled next to his chest.
Lyra dropped to her knees beside them and
hugged an armful of each of their reunited friends.
“Lady Lyra! So good to have you with us at our vernal equinox observance.” Ysmena glided to join them, strands of her long golden hair lifting into the air as she moved. “The Imperial Dragon informed me you’d be joining us. It’s our greatest pleasure.” She positioned her staff to one side and bowed.
Lyra and Cullen stood and returned the gesture.
The Malificates awkwardly followed suit.
Ysmena rose and smiled at the guests. “Sire Drake, it brings me joy to see you returned to good health. I’m grateful to have been of help to Lady Lyra.”
“Thank you for keeping our friends safe overnight, but there are no thanks great enough for the kindness you offered Lyra during a very dark time.” Cullen stepped forward and bowed at the hem of Ysmena’s emerald velvet cloak.
Touched by his heartfelt gratitude, a tear trickled down Lyra’s cheek.
Ysmena kneeled and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Please, rise and be jubilant for this celebration of your life and Lyra’s. Look forward to this spring and every spring through eternity together.” She nodded to the band, and they struck up a merry melody.
The circutamina, along with Noba and Kenzo, resumed their dance around the central trees.
Noticing Ysmena’s lovely, billowing dress, Lyra smoothed the skirt of her own gown. Motioning to the Malificates beside her, she said, “Let me introduce you to two who helped us—Lesot and Angom, Malificates from Terza.”
As she spoke, the center trees stopped revolving.
“Any friends of Lyra’s are welcome here. I’m pleased to feel the kindness of your energies. The Malificates must be a good people.” She waved her staff in the direction of the two main trees. “As we honor the coming of spring, we give thanks to our goddess trees of the equinox, the alder and gorse. Please join me.”
They stopped in front of the nearest. It was lit like a Christmas tree with lights of at least a hundred circutamina hopping among the branches.
“This is our Gorse Goddess. She gives hope, prosperity, and protection to all who honor her.”
The Goddess’s aura swept far, and Lyra easily connected with it. She clasped Cullen’s hand and conveyed a thought. Do you see her aura? It’s surrounding us.
“Yes! I do. How old she is!” he exclaimed with his head tipped back as he stared at her crown of boughs. “About nine hundred years old, and I can see bits of her memories from centuries ago. Incredible.”
“Are you sure these aren’t beasts?” Lesot asked, his brow drawn into furrows.
Cullen responded with a quick nod. “I can understand your confusion though.”
“Please come to meet the Alder Goddess,” Ysmena said as she whirled with the music to stand in front of the next tree. Layers of a sheer white gown spilled from the opening in her cloak.
The tree spirits sat more quietly in the Alder’s branches. They looked like baby dolls propped on branches between heavy sprays of drooping catkins. “This Goddess is responsible for giving us an evolving spirit that opens our minds to accept rebirth.”
Again, Lyra and Cullen connected with the tree’s aura.
“Who…who owns this foreign magic,” sputtered the Gorse Goddess, her voice cracking several times.
Ysmena straightened her posture, and the band stopped playing. The entire glade fell silent.
The Alder Goddess shook from base to canopy, her flowers tinkling as she moved. “Who are they? Why are they in our land?”
Lady Ysmena lifted her lantern above Lesot and Angom. “They are friends of our friends—Malificates here to return to their homeland through our portal.”
“Why did they leave their homes?” croaked the Gorse, assertively shaking a branch in the air.
Angom visibly trembled, and Lesot clamped his hands together so hard that his knuckles turned white.
Lyra lifted her face to the tree. “They helped me. I went to their land to get a missing ancient Book of Dragonspeir so the Imperial Dragon can bring us peace.”
“Through my years, the Imperial Dragons have all been fair and honorable.” The Alder gave another convulsive shake. “The portal to the sky world of Aria you seek is through the World Tree straight ahead. That grand ash has told us of such a book in that land.”
Struggling to contain her enthusiasm, Lyra kept her communication to Cullen silent. Did you hear that? There’s another one of the lost volumes in a place called Aria.
It might be a valuable opportunity. Or since the Goddess confused Terza with Aria, she may not have her facts straight about the book, he replied.
But, there’s a chance. We need to go to be sure. Have you heard of Aria?
Yes. I’ve heard stories, and Symar claims he’s been there.
On his cimafa?
Cullen nodded, and Lyra closed her eyes as she tried to muster strength to leave this happiness and be on the run from danger once more.
“Thank you, but these guests are in need of the portal to Terza just a short distance down that path,” Ysmena said, pointing her staff in the direction of the trail.
“Are you saying I am incorrect?” the Gorse Goddess thundered.
“I’m thinking we need to find that portal now,” Lesot said, touching Lyra’s arm and startling her away from her visions.
“No. You are correct, my Goddess. Please continue enjoying your celebration.” The Lady of the Forest lifted an arm, and the band resumed. She gave a sharp motion for the foursome to follow as she pivoted and scurried down the path.
Lyra stepped her feet methodically as her mind raced with thoughts of a new world, another missing book, and new dangers. She touched Cullen’s arm and focused on their goal of a life together in one world… and on her resolve to fulfill Elisabeth’s proclamation—to be the one Scribe who would bring the downfall of the Black Dragon.
Chapter Fifteen: The World Tree
Through the dense fog, Lyra watched intently for the portal while the Lady of the Forest led the foursome along a wide and well-traveled path. The trees overhanging the trail stood motionless, shrouded by low clouds. Her lantern helped cut through the mist.
Lyra looked toward Cullen. “Will Kenzo and Noba be okay without us?”
The wizard gave a chuckle. “Well, they might consume a bit too much ale.”
She shook her head and grinned.
Ysmena stopped at a small intersection. “This is where we’ll meet the gatekeeper of this portal, a circutamina called Pipkin.” She turned and sang with her sweet soprano into the evergreen trees on one side. “We’ve arrived. Pipkin, are you around?” Glancing to her guests, she continued. “She’s almost always here, but today she might be at the festival.”
“Here I am, my lady! Here!” An especially tiny circutamina, only half the height of Lyra’s shin, rushed up from the direction of the gathering. “I saw threads of communication coming toward the portal, so I went to the festival looking for my Lady. I lost track of a few moments while watching the goddesses all lit up. When I heard you were on the way to use the portal, I hurried back to help.”
“Thank you, Pipkin. You’re so reliable. These fine men need to return to Terza.” Ysmena motioned to Lesot and Angom. “If you please, I’ll let you open the portal since you’re more efficient.”
The tree spirit nodded and planted her wide, bare feet on the ground under one of the evergreens. She exhaled a song of a long, soft note that ended with a complex trill. Like the portal at Cranewort’s Crossroads, leaves and small rocks blew aside from between thick roots, revealing a similar large opening.
A Vizard’s mask blew up to the rim of the portal and caught Lyra’s attention. “That must be Valeria’s mask that chased Noba.” She stepped nearer. “I wonder if I can repair the harm we did to her since she didn’t hurt us?”
Lesot and Angom shrugged.
Lyra aimed her dragon ring at the mask. “Reconcilio salus!” In response, the mask spun like a top and whipped down into the tunnel. “I hope it finds Vale
ria and restores her health.”
Cullen broke the silence that followed, addressing the two Malificates. “Do you know the way from this entrance?”
“We know it well. This opens behind our oldest obsidian mines—a place I wander and think about our ancestors,” Angom replied. Taking a deep breath, he looked to his friend. “You are ready?”
Lesot shrugged. “I wish I was not. I’ve seen freedoms here that our people badly need.”
Lyra rested a hand on his thin shoulder. “Remember you have the Imperial Dragon and all who serve him, me included, as your allies. Call on us, however you can, if you need help.”
He clasped her hand between his. “Our thanks be yours. I may call upon your help one day—I hope.” He embraced her into a hug before giving Cullen a swift bow. “Our thanks to you also, kind Sire.”
Cullen returned the gesture, and Lesot stepped down the crude stone stairwell.
Angom held both of Lyra’s hands. “Our thanks for your kindness. We had a sip of freedom and are now thirsty.” After a nod to Cullen, he followed into the tunnel entrance and paused to look back for a final wave goodbye.
Silently, Lyra and Cullen watched their friends disappear into the darkness.
Pipkin pulled on the hem of Lyra’s skirt. “Please stand back now.”
Lyra, Cullen, and Ysmena moved aside.
The tree positioned directly above the portal circled its lower branches, creating a whirlwind. The trees on the other side of the trail joined, stirring the air until leaves and pebbles circled the intersection and slowly filled the opening.
The circutamina sang her song in reverse, ending with a long, mournful note, which made the departure seem even sadder to Lyra.
The flat blue evergreen leaves rubbed together, taking her final note and extending it another minute. The note bent from one pitch to another like the sound of someone playing a saw.
Ysmena placed an arm around Lyra’s waist. “The otase trees cry with your sadness. I hope you see your friends again.”
“So do I,” Lyra replied, mesmerized by the singing leaves and the melancholy emotion of their song.
Enchanted Bookstore Legends (5-book complete epic fantasy romance box set) Page 71
