by A C Gogolski
A satchel of books over his arm, Peter was left to lead the soldier’s roan horse as they walked back to the group. The smoke-heavy sky above seemed to grow a shade darker with every step. When they were within earshot of the men, Peter stopped, turning to Nell. “Aach. I am no good with soldiers and princes,” he said. “You’ll be safe with them. But now I need to go and check on the old tree.”
Nell shook her head, knowing that Peter would be killed by the first grumlin he met. “What can you do? All you have are… books!” He had no magic to help the tree or himself, and after the long walk through the marsh, the hermit could barely manage the bag on his shoulder. A thick haze began seeping through the trees – the sounds of cracking wood and the whoosh of the fire were not far off. Surely Peter would be lost if he went on alone.
As if reading her thoughts, the old man stiffened. “I am not useless in a time of need! No, I can’t change into a bird, and I don’t have the powers of heaven and earth at my whim… but I have my wits,” he knocked a bony finger against his temple. “And I know that if there’s one way to deal with a grumlin, it’s with these.” He produced one of the striped mushrooms harvested along the way. “I promise you I won’t throw my life away.”
Strangely, Nell believed the old man. He reached up and squeezed her hand, trying to bring her into focus with his cloudy eyes. Then he handed Nell the reigns and strode off into the thicket, Vodyani Grammar in hand.
Through the trees ahead, Nell saw a group of armed men in conversation with the prince. Some of the lower-ranking soldiers standing about hailed Ward as he came forward, and when Nell appeared on the young man’s horse, the company raised a cheer. Chase was there in an instant, helping Nell down and hugging the breath out of her. Ward carefully set Rawley on the ground and went to tender his report to the prince, leaving Nell in good hands.
Relief washed over the girl, making her tremble for joy. She squeezed her father tightly, feeling exhausted and suddenly ready to cry. But the happy moment was short lived. Through teary eyes Nell saw a troubling sight: in a trundle cart used to carry supplies sat Tomkin, holding his bearded, soot-stained face in his hands. A rope tied around his tiny wrist bound him securely.
Not far away, a knight in dusky armor was lecturing the prince like a wicked schoolmaster just about to assign a punishment. A cruel smile kept creeping across his face, as though the search through the burning woods amused him. “My lord, we haven’t men to spare over this troll.” When Ryan didn’t answer, the man continued, “We don’t need any more distractions. The first girl has just been found. The other must not be far away. Destroy the troll and let’s get on with our hunt.”
Ryan set his jaw and held his silence, causing the lord to snatch off his helm in annoyance. “Your mother the queen commanded that we find these missing brats – against my council. Yet here I am! In service.” he glared down at the boy. “If we are to honor her wishes, we must finish our sweep before the weald burns to ashes around us.”
His voice dripped with disdain, as though risking his life for two urchins was a disgrace to his rank. And to make it worse, Pharisij’s boy-prince was feeling conflicted over some curiosity of the forest. How typical. The woods nearby crackled from the heat, treetops exploding in flames. The knight was as relentless as the fire. “Is a grotesque imp like that,” he shot his mailed hand toward Tomkin, “worth all of us dying out here? We’re wasting time even considering it! If your father rode with us today, he would agree!”
Mention of the king made Ryan look up sharply. The boy barely knew his father, but he knew that this furious knight, Lord Umbrage, was the king’s childhood friend. As the wind fanned the fire closer, Ryan gave in to the words of the knight. Gravely the prince said, “It’s time to find the other girl. Do what you think is best.”
With a sneering bow, Lord Umbrage unsheathed his sword. “As you wish, my prince.”
CHAPTER 13
ESCAPE
Standing not far from the group of soldiers and the prince, Nell heard enough to know what they intended. “No!” she cried, struggling out of Chase’s arms. “Dad, they’re going to kill Tomkin!” she screamed.
“Kill who?” her father asked.
So immersed was he in his discussions with Umbrage, Prince Ryan hadn’t seen the girl that Ward had brought back. The prince looked about, surprised to hear Nell’s voice. She made to run over to him but Chase grabbed her hand. “That is the prince, Nell, and Lord Umbrage, the king’s own councilor. People like us cannot interfere with their business.” Her father’s voice was strained. “Lexi is still missing, and they’re making plans to get her back.”
“But they can’t kill Tomkin, he’s my friend!” Nell pulled at her father’s hand, but she couldn’t get free.
Some distance away, Ward faced the knight in the dark armor, gesturing vehemently toward Tomkin. Soon both men’s voices were raised in dispute. Lord Umbrage showed the young soldier none of the restraint he afforded the prince. The advisor’s temper burned hotter than the fires in the wood. Before him Ward stood unflinching, his face knotted in defiance. “The creature is harmless!” the young man shouted. “Just let it free and let’s continue looking for the other girl!” Flames rose above the trees behind them as they argued, and the horses shied in fear. If the group didn’t move soon, they would all burn.
Nell tugged at her father’s arm, pulling him toward the small wagon. “Come on, I’ll show you!” With a scared glance between the fast moving fire and the forest troll, Chase allowed himself to be dragged along. Rawley whimpered, limping at Nell’s hip.
“Tomkin!” she called.
When Tomkin saw Nell, he wiped his soot-streaked face. “Eh? You again? Lady Zel don’t happen to be with you, does she?” His bushy eyebrows were raised hopefully.
“No, it’s just me. Peter was here, but he went on to look after the great tree.”
“What?” Tomkin shrieked. “The old fool! That’s where all this started! I saw it myself!” He tried to raise his hands dramatically, but the rope held one of them fast. The little man yanked on it, incensed, and then gave up. “I thought I’d have a dip in the Aureate’s pond this morning,” he said. “Was a day like any other. Then a shadow passed over. Strike me down if it wasn’t the Widow of the Sea herself! She came to talk to the old oak. And wouldn’t you know, her grumlins were dragging a girl who looked a bit like yourself – all tied up, except for her mouth.” He jerked on his own rope again, as though the knot might have somehow loosened. “Since you visited the old tree, rumor’s got out that he’s been talking again, to a young girl from the village. Rhian—”
“The Widow has Lexi?” The news had just penetrated Chase’s thoughts, and he choked as though he’d been stabbed. “I… I remember seeing a tree with a face once. It was on a hill deep within the weald. You think she’s there?” he asked Tomkin.
“Well, she was, some time ago,” the troll said. “Before these fool knights put a sack over me.”
“The prince needs to know about this,” Chase said. He took a step toward the group of advisors – but stopped abruptly, reconsidering. What would it look like? A common shoemaker like himself barging in on the prince, spouting the outlandish claims of a forest troll: he had no station to speak with them, much less to bring nonsense like this. It was exactly the kind of thing he scolded Nell for just moments ago. Angrily, he turned around. “Nell, this… this creature is trying to put a spell over us. I’m sure Lord Umbrage would not want a troll’s opinion.”
“More’s the pity!” Tomkin yelled.
His chain armor jingling, Umbrage stalked toward the wagon. The prince trailed behind, staring at the ground in defeat. Ward stood back with a number of lesser knights, still irate over the advisor’s insistence upon killing the troll. But Ryan had made his choice, and for Edward to disobey the command of the prince would be treason. Already he would be severely reprimanded for arguing with Umbrage, and not even the queen herself would be able to save him from losing his head if he pushe
d the matter any further.
“Get away from that creature,” Lord Umbrage commanded.
Tomkin raged again against the cord tying his wrist. “You people never learn! It’s the grumlins by the Aureate! They’re burning the wood to spite the trees!”
Nell shouted at the prince, “Ryan, you can’t hurt Tomkin! He’s on our side! He knows where my sister is!”
Umbrage sneered. “Get that blathering girl out of here.” Nell’s father pulled her away from the cart, fearing the anger of the nobleman.
“Ooo!” Tomkin shouted impotently. He flung his head back and cried, “You spirits of earth and air! You know who you are – don’t pretend you’re not listening!” The troll jabbed a stumpy finger at the smoke billowing overhead. “If you ever had a debt to repay me, now is the time!”
The knight came toward the cart, his weapon glinting orange in the angry firelight. Nell looked at Ryan, but the prince avoided her gaze. The small sword hanging at his side seemed so fine and impressive to Nell during the parade, but now it appeared worthless. It was just an ornament, like the prince himself. Umbrage was really in control. The knight drew his weapon, and somewhere far in the distance, the flames gave a terrifying wail.
Nell covered her eyes as the sword was raised above Tomkin’s defenseless head. The little troll cowered, his beard quivering in fear. Leaves all around them stirred in a slight breeze. Then a wave of hot, stinging smoke blotted everything from view. Knights cursed and Nell’s father let go of her hand to rub at his eyes.
She bolted forward at once, hoping to rush into the knight, but she lost her direction in the fume. Instead, Nell bowled over the prince. Hands over his eyes, the blow caught him unawares and he landed hard on the ground. There was no time for Nell to think. Quickly she reached down and ZZZZZZINNG! Ryan’s handsome sword was in her hands. “Hey!” he called, squinting to see his attacker. “Come back with that!”
Nell turned toward where she thought the cart stood and ran with one arm in front of her. In another instant she smacked against a wooden wheel. There, through the thick haze to her left, she could make out an armed figure stumbling in the smoke. She groped around the cart and climbed up the back, praying that no harm had come to her friend.
He was still alive! “Good ol’ Wind,” Tomkin chuckled.
“Tomkin, give me your hand – quick,” Nell whispered. The confused shouts and coughing from the soldiers helped to cloak their voices. Though the prince’s sword was well blunted, in a few moments she managed to hack Tomkin free. Nell took the troll’s hand. “We need to get you out of here!”
“I know that!”
Over the side of the cart they rolled, dropping low to where the air was easier to breathe. They were crawling toward the trees when someone grabbed Nell’s foot. Ryan had shimmied under the cart and was clinging to her heel. “Nell!” he said. “The fire is upon us! You can’t run off into the weald!”
She didn’t want to waste time talking to him. The wind could change direction at any time and break their cover. “Leave me alone!” she said in a loud whisper. “I’m going with Tomkin. You want him dead, but he’s my friend, and he knows the weald better than anyone.”
“I don’t want him dead,” the prince pleaded. “But I can’t argue with my father’s friend. There’s nothing I can do!”
“Well, you can come with us or stay with him!” With that, Nell kicked her boot free of his grip and wriggled into the undergrowth.
“Wait,” Ryan whispered. “You… you have my sword!” For as long as the boy could remember, the lords at the castle had teased him, saying he must avoid young ladies at all costs. At that moment, Ryan understood why. With a groan of anguish, he dove forward on hands and knees, following Nell and Tomkin into the black, smoky wood.
CHAPTER 14
THE WEALDING WORD
They crawled, ran and tumbled on through the haze. The flames bellowed in the distance, promising to devour the wilderness this night. Nell could sense the terror of the forest. The trees knew fire was on its way, and each sent forth its cry – the cry of thousands waiting to burn.
Nell wanted to block her ears, but it would be no use. The sorrows of the wood bowled over her like an invisible tide, wave upon wave threatening to push her away. So great was the impulse to flee that she could barely stumble after Tomkin. She gasped, feeling another ancient grove go up in flames, somewhere in the distance. Above the din of the trees, she could hear the old oak’s voice calling out: Flee druiida, flee greenspeaker! Another sound came to her too, like the belching squeal of a pig, but utterly twisted and wicked.
Tomkin saw Nell stumbling and quickly found a place where they could take cover. The area was overgrown with evergreens, though it might have been a farm long ago. They hid behind a fallen log. It was as good a place as any for a short rest.
After several steadying breaths, the anguish of the forest left Nell’s ears. Her mind quieted. “Did you hear it?” she asked finally. “Their suffering? The burning trees?” When the forest was gone, there would be a hole in the world, and Nell sensed its absence already.
Tomkin nodded, “I did and I do. But nothing can stop it now. My people once cried out like this, long ago when our cities fell into the ground. Nothing to be done then either, except move on and stay alive.”
Ryan huffed loudly, ignoring Tomkin’s tale. “I think you have something of mine,” he sulked.
Just then she realized she still gripped his sword. Handing it back, she said, “You should sharpen that, it doesn’t work vey good.”
“It’s not supposed to be used,” the boy moped. “A prince should rule, not fight.”
“Who told you that?” Nell asked.
The long trudge through the forest had given the prince time to reconsider his predicament, and bitterness had seeped into him like smoke through the trees. He was lost and at the mercy of some troll. Ryan was certain that he gambled away his life chasing Nell into this burning, grumlin-infested wood. And for what? Arms crossed, sword on his lap, he glowered at Nell from beneath a fallen pine. Broken branches poked all around his head like so many horns.
Tomkin caught the smell of something and rose to look around. Seeing him move, the sullen boy raised the sword, saying, “You there, troll. You had better not be leading us into a trap. I am the king’s son and I can…” he faltered.
“What? Burn down my house?” Tomkin asked.
“Or tickle him with that big butterknife?” Nell said.
“Perhaps you can order me a second execution?” the troll hooted.
Ryan fumed at their jests. No one ever made fun of him at the castle. “Where are we going? I demand to know.”
“The old oak, of course,” Nell said.
“We are?” Tomkin brightened. “Excellent, I hope Lady Zel is there.”
Nell was aghast. “Wait, I thought that you knew every path in the weald – isn’t this the way to the pond?”
“No idea!” squealed the troll. “You try finding your way half-blind from smoke.”
“So where are we then?” Ryan asked. Before Tomkin could make a guess, they heard gurgling voices nearby.
“Grumlins,” Tomkin whispered. “Better stay low. I’ll see what they’re after.” The little man crept under the pine, beard dragging through the sticks and needles.
“Will he give us away?”
“Of course not,” Nell told the prince. “He’s the one who showed me to the witch’s tower. You shouldn’t have held him prisoner. He might have helped you find Lady Zel.”
Ryan scoffed. “My father says the last thing we need is more sorcery. ‘Magic is for the weak,’” he quoted. “Honest men don’t use it. Haven’t you heard she changes people into sheep…”
Nell cut him short, “Yes, and doves too. But haven’t you heard that she’s your great-great-grandmother? That’s no way to talk about family. Don’t you still wear the bracelet that she gave you for your birthday?”
If Ryan was shocked by the news of his lineage, he did
n’t show it. “No. My father says I’m not to wear it. I don’t need magic trinkets anyway.” Nell could hear a quiver of fear beneath his sulkiness. She listened inwardly as they waited for Tomkin, feeling curiously distanced from herself. It was as though her emotions belonged to someone else. There was fear along with sorrow and excitement, all jostling about in her like horses in a parade. She glanced at Ryan and could see the prince tremble. It was up to her to give him courage.
“Lady Zel is out there somewhere. She won’t let us die.”
Soon Tomkin crawled back into their hiding spot. “There are grummers all right. Lots of them – all over the place. But at least I know where we are,” he seemed pleased with himself despite the situation. “The old trapdoor is just beyond those trees.”
Nell peeked under a branch and could see the tumbledown stone wall. Smoke shifted and there beyond it stood the circle of sycamores surrounding the trapdoor. She remembered clearly the last time she was here, and the grumlin that had chased her away.
The eel-eyed creatures darted in and out from between the trees, like wasps circling their hive. Then, from out of the smoke lumbered a larger group of the fish-men. The sky pealed with thunder and a high scream rang out from the newcomers. Nell jumped to her feet at once. “Lexi!” Another thunderous crash swallowed her call.
The grumlins tugged and dragged the girl behind them, heading straight for the stand of giant trees. Lexi was indeed with them, still wearing her apron, her blond hair tangled around her face. Nell somehow knew if the grumlins reached the trapdoor, she would never see her sister again.
Thunder boomed for the third time, and with it pattered a few big, sooty drops of rain. Nell stepped toward the circle of trees where the grumlins were heading. She had to do something. “Stop!” she shouted. Her voice sounded from a place different than usual, a place where, before now, there was only silence. It was as though all her life she was just pretending to be a child, and at this moment, another part took over.
