The Wealding Word
Page 22
Nell, standing just under the farthest bough, didn’t know what to do. Lady Zel was paying her last respects to the tree, and the girl wanted desperately to let her grieve without intruding. There arose in Nell an urge to run to the hermit’s house and be near the young sapling, with its song of easy sunlight and springtime. She began creeping back in the direction they had come, hoping to distance herself from the sadness and loss.
“Stay,” came Lady Zel’s firm voice. “We are not finished.” The sorceress extended her hand, index finger pulling the air, indicating that Nell should approach. She then resumed her address to the dead tree. “I wish you weren’t so stubborn all these years. But I have completed the task you set me. There is finally peace in our kingdom, forged by the marriage of my great-grandson Reginald, and Pharisij Sanuswari, princess of the veiled realm of the Ramahindra. Soon, when Ryan comes of age, the truce will be sealed.”
Nell crawled over the jagged rocks and roots to stand with the sorceress. The great tree made no response, so Lady Zel continued on with the ritual. “This is my new apprentice: Nell Shoemaker. You gave to her one of your seeds a year ago, and you recognized the weald in her as I did. But since that time, she has become afflicted by a foul thing, and will perish without our help.”
The sorceress looked at Nell, “I cannot rid you of a Malady, Nell. You already know that. It is something you must do for yourself. But if you accept this as your task, I can help.”
Nell wasn’t sure what the sorceress was driving at. “But I tried. How am I supposed to destroy the Malady if I don’t know the Word Isolet?”
Lady Zel looked older than ever at that moment. Her face was lined with a mixture of hope and sorrow as she spoke. “I can give you the time you need to uncover another means. Do you remember Peter’s book, the one that described the creature? It mentioned a way of fighting the Malady’s curse, a way which had been lost – or perhaps hidden.” Nell shook her head, still uncomprehending. “Nell, Maladies have afflicted mankind for thousands of years. If you discover another means to destroy them, you will have done a great service to all people. But you cannot do so with the Word Isolet. Such is not our way. To find the Stair of Stars: this shall be your task.”
An inarticulate recognition burst into Nell’s mind. It was as though a light shone upon her in the midst of night, and her eyes were momentarily blinded. She didn’t know what it was that Lady Zel was offering, but somehow she felt the scale of it.
Lady Zel looked once more to the tree: “Long ago I broke your trust, and shared your gift unwisely. But today I have come to ask your blessing… to bequeath unto my apprentice the Word Eternis, as you once bequeathed it to me. You have heard the task that shall accompany it. Whether you agree or no, tell me now.”
Nell’s mouth hung open in shock. “But… but, I don’t want… that! I’m just a girl!” A legion of faceless warlocks reared before her eyes, all of them vying to seize the Word for themselves. “Someone like Rhiannon will come and make me give it to them!”
Lady Zel understood Nell’s fear. “No child, the Word Eternis is invisible to other sorcerers. Its vibration is inaudible even to a dragon’s magic. The only way anyone can ever know what you possess is if you yourself reveal it, as I once did. Learn from my mistakes.” She glanced at the oak, still hoping for some sign of life. “I am the last sorceress to carry the Word Eternis. If I should die, it too would disappear from the earth. So I wish to give it to you now, while I am still able.”
A breeze careened through bare branches, playing on the surface of the pond and pulling wisps of Lady Zel’s long hair. Though the tree stood lifeless and mute, at that moment the sun shone forth from behind the clouds to drench the afternoon in gold. The sorceress seemed to take this as a confirmation of sorts.
“Nell,” she said quietly. “Will you agree to this task – to find the Stair of Stars, for the good of all?”
Nell stood staring into the sorceress’ colorless eyes, incapable of speech. She didn’t ask for this, she didn’t want it. Truly, she didn’t want it. She yearned for a normal life, like everyone else. But then something called to her, a hungry shriek grating on the edges of her memory. Nell saw again the Malady’s pink eyes gleaming in the dark, its stumpy tusks framing an odious leer. The demon had come to drown her life in sorrow – entangling the lives of everyone around her with its curses. And there were hundreds of its kind preying upon helpless people everywhere. How many thousands upon thousands suffered innocently, caught unawares in a Malady’s cruel web? Nell thought of her mother and father, of Peter, and Lexi, and even Evelyn. They had all suffered because of her, and would continue to unless Nell did something.
Lady Zel offered a way to help. “Yes,” Nell said. “I will try.”
The sorceress moved with grave attentiveness. Dropping to her knee, she took Nell’s face in her hands and stared into her eyes. Then she kissed Nell’s forehead with a light brush of her lips. When her face came away, it was strangely serene.
Nell felt no different. She looked up at her teacher, silhouetted by the setting sun, and wondered at the significance of the kiss. “Is that… ohh,” she breathed.
As if heaving a momentous sigh of relief, the heavens sent forth a current upon the land. Every branch, flag, and shutter in the kingdom stirred in response. Soot clouded the air within the ring of stones, whipping skirts and hair in the rush. This was no ordinary wind, but rather a messenger of the sibilant realm. From the gulf between worlds a crystalline tone issued, rippling through the material silence. It was a single chime, but it quickened Nell with an energy holier than light itself. Riding the breeze, the sound of it flowed fast and then faded, but Nell sensed what had touched her.
“There,” Lady Zel said. “It is yours. Yours and mine.” She smiled again at her apprentice. Her face was creased with a hundred lines, as though the same life-giving wind had somehow made off with her vitality. “We are bound, closer than any mother and daughter now. Keep the Word safe and secret within you, and remember your task.”
Nell felt shaky and charged, like she had been running for miles, yet strangely placid as well. Some vital inner tempo within her chest seemed to wobble for a moment before taking up a new cadence. She was larger, somehow – a pebble of mountainous proportions. She raised her hands before her eyes, expecting them to be throbbing at twice their normal size, but they were only her ordinary hands, small and grimed with ash.
Observing Nell sense her body from the other side of Eternity, Lady Zel said, “It is the Word settling in. You may feel its effects for several months. There is nothing for you to do for now, except to welcome it into your bones. We will speak more about it when the time is right.”
Only half listening to the sorceress, Nell touched her face – her cheeks and lips like living marble. For a moment, she had the impression that her body was really the first rung of a most curious ladder, one created expressly for something unknown and outside of her to descend into this world. The hermit’s words about having to make room on the inside for magic – about leaving herself behind – drifted back to Nell’s mind. But at that moment, who she was seemed an insignificant detail in comparison with the Source of all Words.
The sorceress noted the sun’s westward slide. “We should be going. Miss Elder will expect us promptly for dinner. There is nothing else for us here.”
Feeling altogether unhurried, Nell spoke like one who had just awoken. “Lady Zel, can I catch up with you? I want to say goodbye to him too.”
Rapunzel nodded. “Of course, but don’t tarry long.” She gave the lifeless tree one last look. Then, gathering her shawl around her, the sorceress strode from beneath the burned boughs, heading in the direction of the setting sun.
EPILOGUE
Nell sat down among the roots, still wobbly from her contact with the Word Eternis. She watched Lady Zel, a distant streak of purple and white, disappear behind a dolmen.
“I meant to come back,” Nell told the oak. “I wanted to. Things just got so co
mplicated.” She found that talking to a dead tree didn’t make her feel any better. “You can’t hear me anyway. I’m sorry I missed my chance to know you.” Lady Zel was right, there was nothing left here. But as Nell was getting up, she noticed something glinting beneath a clump of charcoal by her foot. She reached out a hesitant hand to move the debris, and her fingers brushed warm gold. “Another acorn!” she shouted. The sight of it filled her with hope, and the Wealding Word responded to her joy.
All around, shoots of every variety launched upward, answering the harvestmaiden’s nourishing call. In the span of a few breaths, quivering wildflowers crowded among leafy sprigs and sprouts all jangling up through the soil. The Word brought their voices to Nell’s ears: the first tremulous notes of a million tiny preludes. It was then she felt a soft sigh move the air behind her. A bit of scorched bark in the bole of the tree relaxed, and six sap-crusted eyes creaked open, one-by-one.
The ancient face peered down upon the skeletal trees – his burned and blackened companions. “Ah, they’re gone now,” the Aureate sighed. There was neither accusation nor anguish in his words, merely an acceptance of what was. “I must have fallen asleep again.”
“You’re alive,” Nell gasped. “But why didn’t you answer Lady Zel when she was here? She misses you – she’s been waiting to talk with you for a hundred years!”
“A hundred years? Has it been that long?” He smacked his lips, tasting the breeze. “The air is certainly different than it used to be.”
“It’s been that long since she’s seen you, yes. And now she thinks you’re dead.” Nell wasn’t sure if she should be overjoyed at the tree’s hardiness, or angry at him for ignoring Lady Zel for so long.
“Hmm. People always assume the worst,” the tree rustled. “The truth is, I get so tired lately.”
“So you’ve been asleep since the fire?”
“The fire,” the oak mused. He blinked open a few more knots to view the whole hill at once. “Yes, I was dreaming… dreaming that all the trees were trying to wake up, like me. But then the moon poured smoke upon us, and I was alone again. I don’t recall the fire exactly. Must have gone into my roots when the flames came – it’s what I always do.”
“You slept through it?” Nell asked. “But I heard your voice that day. You called to me. You told me to flee.”
The Aureate made no response. Instead, several of his knot-like eyes turned to the acorn in Nell’s palm. “I forgot there were two of those.”
The girl hesitated, “Do… do you want it back?”
Eyes scattered around the bole widened in surprise. “Back? No no! When an acorn falls, it can’t be put back on the branch. Ready or not, it’s time for that one to find its place. Take it with you if you wish. Care for it.”
The acorn was much smaller than the one Nell had been given last year – no doubt prematurely burned from its branch in the fire. As she slipped it into her pocket, the sun lighted upon the western peaks. She had lingered much longer than she meant. “I should go, I need to catch up with Lady Zel,” Nell said. The Aureate merely winked a few of its eyes, like some living pillar of awareness.
Nell took a few steps, but her guilt over not visiting the tree as she promised weighed upon her still. Even if he had slept the entire year since she last saw him, she couldn’t leave without offering some apology. “I’m sorry it’s been this long. I’ll come back and take care of you, I promise. I’ll visit you all the time so you stay awake.”
The oak gave a resonant chuckle, “A tree needs a great deal of help to awaken. I do hope you will come back.” Lids of bark were beginning to droop. “If I am correct, you now possess a second Word, and you will want help in understanding it.”
“What? But… but Lady Zel told me no one would ever know about it,” Nell exclaimed.
“Most won’t, because they don’t know what to listen for. But I have held the Word Eternis for a very long time: ten times, maybe twenty times a thousand-thousand turnings. I know its trappings quite well.” His speech began to slow as sleep descended on him. “Your task… is it fitting for you?”
Nell nodded. “Yes, I think so.” She briefly explained the Malady, and Lady Zel’s decree to find the Stair of Stars.
The tree was silent for long moments, frowning as one-by-one his eyes winked shut. “Reckless. Very reckless.”
Nell had no answer for him. His words were not the comfort she had hoped for. She looked to the red sun shimmering into the western mountains, and knew the sorceress would be expecting her. Just as she was about to say her farewell, the tree rustled. “So be it. No matter what happens in life, remember your purpose. It’s what will keep you alive.” Now with just one eye cracked open, the Aureate saw Nell’s face by the day’s last ray of sunlight. In a sleepy whisper he said, “I believe I knew you once when you were older. What did you say… your name was again?” Charred bark closed over the sole remaining eye.
“Nell Shoemaker,” she said, but the tree had already fallen asleep.
With purple dusk settling over the forest, Nell left the Aureate Oak, setting off at a run to catch up with her teacher. After all, Lady Zel did not have forever to wait.
APPENDIX
THE TRIGORIA, OR, THE 33 TRENTS
The Trigoria is a fortune-telling device held in high esteem by charlatans and bored nobility. To a serious-minded student however, it can be a tool for clearing the mind and opening to the forces of the universe. The “deck” is comprised of 33 intricately painted tiles, which may be cast in sets of three, six, or nine. A trained reader can identify hidden relationships between the tiles, gaining insight into her deepest questions.
The Family
ASPIRATIONS
1 Apprentice/Child at Play/Learning
2 Journeyman/Mother/Diligence
3 Master/Grandmother/Excellence
PURSUITS
4 Peddler/Farmer/Tree of Life
5 Merchant/Miser/Scales
6 Sorceress/Lover/Bower
TRAVEL
7 Rider on the Road
8 The Caravan
9 Star Maiden (girl getting into boat w. three stars above her head – “Nell’s tile”)
DIGNITARIES
10 Jack o’ the Gallows
11 Helmed Knight
12 The Dragon
13 The Beggar
14 Couple Embracing on Bridge
15 The Lord
The Semiodin
ANIMALS
16 The wolf
17 The fish
18 The crane
19 The hare
20 The web
21 Three headed giant
RELICS
22 Chalice
23 Axe
24 Upside-down candle
ABODES
25 Cave
26 Storm
27 Mountaintop
28 Gallows
29 Hearth
30 Alter
SHAPES
31 Interconnecting Circles
32 Double Arrow
33 Pyramids touching point to point
Additional colored tiles are sometimes added to the Trigoria. For skilled readers, these tiles can deepen the divination, while in the case of the nobility, the extra tiles facilitate the playing of various games.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A.C. Gogolski lives in Western New York with his wife and two children. He enjoys long hikes in bad weather, and campfires in the snow. The Wealding Word is his first novel.
Visit acgogolski.com to learn more about his upcoming projects, or to just say hello.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue: The Sower of Sorrows
Part 1: The Fairy Tale
Chapter 1: The Gift
Chapter 2: The Lonely Tree
Chapter 3: The Trapdoor
Chapter 4: Murkly Marsh
Chapter 5: The Tower
Chapter 6: The Parade
Part 2: Up in Smoke
&nbs
p; Chapter 7: Cursed
Chapter 8: The Gray Beast
Chapter 9: The Underground Kingdom
Chapter 10: The Guardian at the Gate
Chapter 11: The Hermit
Chapter 12: Riders
Chapter 13: Escape
Chapter 14: The Wealding Word
Part 3: Words and Silence
Chapter 15: King Reginald
Chapter 16: Writings of the Most Ancient Order
Chapter 17: The Candlestone
Chapter 18: Bad Luck
Chapter 19: The Strangleweed Coast
Part 4: The Chime of Eternity
Chapter 20: The Sea Ruin
Chapter 21: Chains
Chapter 22: Evelyn
Chapter 23: The Chamber Beneath
Chapter 24: Rhiannon
Chapter 25: The Apprentice
Chapter 26: Strangers at the Door
Chapter 27: Lady Zel
Epilogue
Appendix: The Trigoria, or, the 33 Trents
About the Author