Feynard

by Marc Secchia

  The Dryad Queen’s disbelief, when she saw Alliathiune and Kevin sitting at table breaking waycrust with Zephyr, the Jasper Cat, Two Hoots, and a smattering of X’gäthi warriors, was comical. Zephyr, pontificating about the need to track down the Kraleon before it corrupted any more of the Forest’s creatures–for it had vanished with Brian’s death–and a Goblin army which was indiscriminately destroying the Forest to build siege weapons and wide roads, was interrupted mid flow by the Queen screeching:

  “You! You didn’t make a Seedling? But I made certain … the magic!”

  “Surprised to see the good Human alive, noble Aunt?” Alliathiune could be downright waspish when she wanted, and she appeared to be in a stinging mood. “Concerned your clumsy attempt at blackmail and extortion did not work out?”

  “The Forest needs a Seedling! How dare you disobey?”

  Alliathiune replied sharply in Ancient Dryadic. The Queen turned pale. After a brief but hostile argument, the Dryad Queen stalked off to the Portal–manifestly insulted by whatever Alliathiune had told her–and ordered the Unicorn there to send her home at once.

  Before anyone could speak, Alliathiune turned to Two Hoots and said, “My apologies, noble Owl. But that argument had been brewing for many seasons. My Aunt is not subtle in wielding her power, and the less she has to do with this Seeding in my belly, the better–for now. I should try to reconcile with her, I suppose.”

  “You broke the Dryad curse? You actually did it?” gasped Zephyr. “By the Hills, when I saw good Kevin at dawn … but I dared not dream … you did the deed? Truly?”

  “I’m famished,” said Kevin, tucking in. “Good Unicorn, it was no curse, but rather a misunderstanding.”

  The Unicorn neighed shrilly, “Five thousand Leaven seasons of misunderstanding?”

  Alliathiune said, placing her hand significantly on her belly, “We did ‘the deed’, as you put it so memorably–”

  “Actually, it was a simple matter,” Kevin interrupted. “But I came this close to dying–”

  “And we intend to be married just as soon as possible,” said Alliathiune, slipping her hand into Kevin’s and beaming as the Unicorn let out a great whinny of delight. “Do you think the Tomalia might lend us a pretty spot in Thaharria-brin-Tomal for the first such celebration in–well, I don’t know how many seasons?”

  With a whoop, Zephyr was off and prancing about the table in his foal-like exuberance, enthusing, “I don’t believe it! I’ll look up the exact number in our records! A Seedling, and a wedding, well, by the Hills … I’ll take care of all the arrangements. I know the perfect place. I will–what are you giggling at, noble Dryad?”

  “You, noble Unicorn. I would like you to officiate the vows here, at the Sacred Grove.”

  For once, Zephyr was struck speechless.

  And then Alliathiune spoiled it by blurting out, “If my husband-to-be agrees, of course. Sorry, good Kevin.”

  He said drolly, “I may as well marry a passing thunderstorm.” Laughter rose about them. He stifled her retort by kissing her soundly on the lips. “I would like it if all of our friends were in attendance–Snatcher, Hunter, Amadorn, and you, Two Hoots, and the Jasper Cat–I suppose we’d have to invite an awful lot of people. Er, creatures, that is.”

  “If we can fit in a ceremony between knocking a few Goblin heads together.”

  Kevin stared at Alliathiune. “You, who grow Driadorn’s future in your belly, will be staying right here.”

  “I will not.”

  “This is a battle! The Goblin army is five hundred thousand strong! I don’t want you going anywhere near it!”

  “My dear Kevin, I will do as I choose in a manner I choose.”

  He shot back, “Which part of ‘I love you’ do you not understand, you stubborn, impossible woman? I care too much about you–!”

  “You try to stop me!”

  “Mighty High Wizard, he say–”

  A hunk of waycrust bounced off his nose.

  “Well now, that was rather childish, don’t you think?”

  Alliathiune essayed a coquettish smile. “Tell me, am I supposed to protect my bumbling beloved from a multitude of magical ‘accidents’ from a hundred leagues away?”

  “You have a point, I’ll grant. But you tell me first, what did you just say to the Dryad Queen a moment ago?”

  The Dryad scowled at him and said, mutinously, “That I intended to obey my future husband’s will; and that she could take up her issues with you.”

  Kevin tried to leap to his feet, but smacked his knees on the table instead. He cried, “Obey her husband’s will? Did you hear that? I have witnesses–Zephyr? Two Hoots? She used the word ‘obey’. You all heard her, loud and clear. Right, Zephyr?”

  “Didn’t hear a thing,” averred the Unicorn.

  “Only the buzzing of grimflies,” agreed the Lurk. But he was grinning so broadly Kevin thought he could see his molars.

  “Going deaf in my dotage,” added Two Hoots, with a hoot that sounded rather like a cackle of laughter. “Good Kevin, it is a wise and ancient policy of the Owls that newlywed creatures should not rush off to war. Personally, I require your brains right where I can peck ideas out of them, if you’d pardon the pun.” And he blinked his huge yellow eyes at them to underscore his humour. “I look forward to that momentous occasion, whenever you two fledglings decide it shall be. Now, let us break waycrust together. This lighttime grows no younger. And I look forward to knocking a few Goblin skulls together as the Dryad suggested.”

  “Battalions of armoured Elephants,” said Alliathiune.

  “Battalions of feisty yet surprisingly obedient Dryads,” Kevin put in, earning himself a gentle slap from his bride-to-be.

  Zephyr laughed. “I see the future of Driadorn is safe in your hands. Do you think the Dryad will argue less with me now that she has you to spar with, noble Kevin?”

  He slapped the Unicorn before Alliathiune reached him.

  Kevin and the Dryad said in unison, “That’s from both of us.” And then they looked at each other in surprise, and laughed.

  * * * *

  Three lighttimes later, Kevin arranged to meet with the Dryad Queen near Dryadell, home of the Dryads. This issue between her and Alliathiune needed to be resolved.

  As soon as she saw him reappear from the grove where he had withdrawn to consult with the Dryad Queen, Alliathiune ran straight to Kevin and threw her arms around him, and her legs for good measure, almost knocking him over.

  “You’re trembling! And as green as a Forest parrot, and–”

  “I’m not going to be sick, I’m not!”

  “Then let me help you–strength to you, good Kevin.”

  To his surprise, Kevin felt her Dryad magic simply whisk the nausea away. He was still shaking, but that passed also. He clutched Alliathiune in his arms and whispered into her hair, “Dear one, I’m not very good at confrontation. But I know the location of your mother’s tree. It is–”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you!”

  “I’ll speak when you stop kissing–”

  “Never.”

  With a contented sigh, Kevin let himself enjoy the ever-tumultuous flow of his beloved Dryad’s emotions, so much so that he was quite befuddled when she was done and Alliathiune declared herself most satisfied with her ability to disarm Driadorn’s mightiest Wizard.

  “She said it’s the lavender trumpet-flower tree next to the seventeenth waterfall uphill,” he managed, finally.

  Alliathiune’s expression changed in a twinkling from unbridled delight to concern. “How come you’re so upset, then, good Kevin? And what was that plume of smoke I saw?”

  He said, between clenched teeth, “In exchange for the location of your mother’s tree, your precious Queen demanded that I teach her, there and then, what I taught you beneath the Arch of Indomalion.”

  “The vixen!” Alliathiune exploded. “You’re mine, and she can’t have you! Not for one second! Why, when I get my hands on that slimy, manipulative
… I’m going to turn her into a large, knobbly cucumber! And then I’ll slice her up for salad–mmm? Mmm!”

  Kevin, counting himself lucky not to lose a finger when covering her mouth with his hand, replaced his fingers with a kiss. “Beloved, the plume of smoke you saw was me losing my temper to the tune of a rather large fireball. I damaged several trees, but the Dryads promised they’d fix them. Dreadfully sorry about that–but she called you a vixen, too. A ‘poxy little vixen’, to be precise. Do you want to know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I told her she should ask you first.”

  Slowly, a smile formed on Alliathiune’s lips, but there were still storm-clouds in her eyes. “So you didn’t touch her?”

  If he had done, Kevin knew, being tossed into a salad would be the best outcome he could have hoped for. “Nope,” he said, definitively. “Instead, the Mighty High Wizard convinced the Dryad Queen to abdicate her throne in favour of her younger sister, Mayilliathiune–your favourite Aunt.”

  If only he had a camera to capture the moment! Alliathiune, utterly speechless, gaped at him as though he had gone utterly and irremediably loopy. She mouthed, ‘What?’ And when she began to realise that he was serious, her shock only multiplied.

  Kevin bowed to her and, taking her hands in his, kissed her tiny fingers one by one, all ten of them. “Furthermore, I am allowed to accompany you into Dryadell to meet your mother. I believe that makes me the first Human ever to walk those hallowed paths.”

  “You … all those questions yester-lighttime about my family, about Mayilliathiune …”

  “Yes, dear one.”

  “The consultation with the Unicorn law specialist …?”

  “Was about Dryadic law. I believe that holding one Dryad’s life ransom in exchange for obedience in a matter relating to the Forest’s survival is about as flagrant a breach of Dryadic law as anyone can possibly imagine. There are a few conditions under which the throne–”

  Alliathiune shook her head. “You made her abdicate?”

  “I was provoked. And I did it for you, which is no excuse, but–”

  “Well! You sneaky, conniving … sweetheart. You did that for me?” And she took his arm in a way that made him shiver in a completely different way. “Don’t let me ever provoke you to wrath. I can’t believe you–you come here on an errand for your wife-to-be, and you engage in a little recreational regime change on the side?”

  “I think I rather fancy political discussion by fireball. It cuts short a great deal of bother.” And he chuckled, but without mirth. “I learned from Brian just how seductive power can be, dear Alliathiune. Don’t let me ever say that except as a joke, alright? Will you hold me to that? Promise?”

  She nodded.

  “Then let’s go find your mother, and see what’s so amazing about Dryadell, the secret home of the Dryads.”

  “Budding season is the very best time,” Alliathiune said, with a bright smile and a skip of excitement. “If you’ve ever imagined paradise …”

  Chattering away, the Dryad led him along a pretty path deeper into the woods. He had to jog to keep up with her. At length Kevin began to see Indomalion peeping through the thinning foliage, and a most subtle and intoxicating fragrance came to his nostrils.

  “Smell that?” asked Alliathiune. “That’s our trees–we call them Dryalê-iuoue-än, which means ‘the aroma which reaches for beauty’ in Standard. In all Feynard, they grow only here.”

  The trees drew back, and Kevin caught his breath.

  Coppery sunshine poured down upon a great ravine, perhaps half a mile wide, which stepped down from his vantage-point in a great series of flower- and fern-festooned natural terraces into its vegetation-choked depths. Many waterfalls, more than he could count, tumbled gurgling and laughing over the edges of those steps. Water birds made their homes around still, clear ponds and reed-fringed brooks–and the butterflies! What he had taken for clouds of mist were indeed shimmering flotillas of myriad butterflies, riding the gentle, perfumed breeze as they flitted from one flower to the next.

  As his eye began to sort out details, Kevin realised that lower down in the ravine, gigantic trees grew horizontally out of its sides and almost all the way across, trees that were so laden with pure white blossoms that it was hard to imagine how they remained rooted under such a heavy load. They intertwined across the breadth of the ravine, forming a kind of organic platform where, squinting, he made out the miniscule figures of Dryads attending what must be flower gardens, vegetable patches, and homes. He wondered if there were many Dryad children. The Unicorn scholars said they had never seen a Dryad child.

  Kevin squeaked, “What’s that?”

  Alliathiune laughed merrily at his response. She trilled a word at him. When he pulled a face and made gargling noises in his throat, she tried, “Um … let’s see. Monkey? No. What would that be in Standard Driadornese?”

  “It’s as big as a house! Bigger–some kind of white hairy mountain-ape?”

  The Dryad let him down a little path, explaining, “Yes, I suppose ‘ape’ comes reasonably close. It’s rare to see one in the daytime. They’re plant-eaters, very shy and gentle. They have been known to rescue lost Dryad children. So? What do you think?” Her hand gesture took in all of Dryadell. “Stunning? Incomparable?”

  It was stunning, he agreed. How would he convince Alliathiune to have the Dryads fan out across the Seventy-Seven Hills to heal their Forest? Through the Magisoul he had done much, the true extent of the Forest was many times greater still. He could not banish the memory of what he had seen from the air. But not today. Today was about reuniting Alliathiune with her mother, and learning perhaps if Alliathiune was the daughter of the Ra’luun King, he reflected–another piece of the puzzle which described his wife-to be.

  But how strange it must be to live in a community of only females. Kevin hoped they would give that ape-thing a very wide berth.

  “Just when you think you know something of the Forest, She surprises you.”

  The Dryad looked pleased. “I’ll make a believer of you yet.”

  “Your little slice of paradise is wonderful, dear one. No wonder Dryads are such homebodies.”

  “Homebodies? You’re just trying to stir up trouble. Feebly. That reminds me, I’ve a new title for you–one for when I’m annoyed with you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Feeble Low Dabbler. It has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”

  “And a horrid slice of truth,” Kevin groaned. “You will pay for that later, you green-skinned excuse for a vegetable.”

  “Ooh. Sounds exciting, Feeble Low Dabbler. Pay how, exactly?”

  He rolled his eyes at the skies. “Please, tell me about daily life here?”

  As they walked down through the beautiful gardens, Alliathiune described how the Dryads budded their homes off the Dryalê-iuoue-än trees, and the types of vegetables and flowers they grew in their gardens, and how some Dryads chose to live in the busy community while others followed a much simpler life, far from anyone, in a dell or wood somewhere in Driadorn. Kevin learned that the Dryads kept bees for honey and trained long-beaked hummingbirds to harvest nectar for them, which was a great delicacy. In several places they descended flights of steps, which were formed out of living trees grown that way on purpose, and stepped through the little brooks to reach another section of path.

  Alliathiune stopped him from flapping at an inquisitive butterfly with his hands. “They don’t bite, good Kevin. This is a turquoise-spotted giant monarch. And that one–”

  At length, amidst a meandering lecture on the unique plant and animal life of Dryadell, they came into the village, which was nothing more than a denser collection of branch-budded homes, covered in trailing flowering vines. Kevin’s presence attracted huge curiosity. In no time, they had gathered an audience of several hundred petite Dryads. Many of their number wore nothing more than a loincloth and their natural beauty, and the Dryads were all young-looking. Even those who had slight
creases around their eyes still moved easily and were not unattractive.

  Kevin covered his eyes. “I don’t know where to look! Help …”

  “Pretend it’s all natural,” Alliathiune suggested, but he noticed she took his arm in a proprietary way. “Listen, I’ve been thinking of what I can do for my sisters. I need to put rumours to rest, and give them hope for the future.”

  “Good idea,” said Kevin, fixing his gaze on a faraway tree. “Er, what are they calling me? What’s that word?”

  “Treefriend. They’re calling you Treefriend.”

  That was an incredible compliment! He swallowed hard.

  The Dryad Seer raised her to address the crowd in her native Dryadic. Soon, there was a collective gasp. A shouted question came her way. Alliathiune put her hand on her belly and replied peaceably. At least a dozen Dryads fainted at once, as Kevin looked on in bemusement. Others began to cry. Alliathiune answered several more questions, spoke a little further, and then clearly dismissed the gathering–fondly, but firmly.

  “Well,” she said, “that’s over. I let them look with their magic.”

  “They know I’m the father?”

  The frown in his voice drew a giggle from the Dryad. “Of course. Now, since I promised we would help them learn how to–”

  “I sense a detail a-coming which makes me extremely uncomfortable, I’ll have you know.”

  “More than you are already? Allow me to distract you.” But she achieved this in a most unexpected way. “Good Kevin, did you ever wonder how, when I merge with a tree, my clothes come with me and reappear when I reappear?”

  “Ah–no. But now that you mention it, how do you do that?”

  “Dryads are able to pass from one tree to another, as long as they know both trees.” So saying, she stepped sideways into a branch and vanished, only to resurface instantly from a tree ten paces further down the path they were following between the houses.