The Dark Lord's Demise

by John White

  From Philo's back, Lisa acted as referee. "You're both shoving each other. I can see it very well from here. Look, you don't have to walk side by side. One of you go in front of the other."

  "After you," said Kurt with a little bow.

  Wes gladly stepped in front of his brother. It would feel good to have some space. He worked his shoulders and swung his arms out-and banged the knuckles of both hands on tree trunks. He looked left and right. The path appeared wide enough for two people. Wes swung his arm again. This time he hit sharp thorns. He hollered, "Ow! What's going on?"

  At the same moment, Philo's panniers caught on trees on either side. Lisa worked them free and almost fell off while she did it. Kurt scraped the knuckles of both hands on tree trunks as he swung his arms out in imitation of Wes. His sword whacked against a tree and spun him off balance. Lisa ducked to avoid a pointy branch that threatened her eyes. Kurt's sleeve snagged on thorns. He pulled loose, but the thorns left a three-cornered tear in the cloth. Wes jerked the scabbard of the Sword of Geburah free from a tangle of vines. Lisa leaned forward and rode with her head almost on Philo's mane.

  "You'd think we were city slickers who never walked through the woods before," Wes grumbled in disbelief. A low branch lashed him across the forehead. "Look out for that branch!" he called to the others behind him. He turned to see Kurt fight his way out of a prickly bush. Beyond Kurt, Philo squeezed his big body between two saplings while Lisa struggled again with the panniers and drew up her own legs for protection.

  "You know what this makes me think of?" she asked after she and the horse got through. "It's like when we rode the reindeer through the forest. The path would only open up a few yards ahead of us. As long as we kept going, the path was there. And behind us, it closed up again. This is something like that."

  "No, it isn't!" Kurt said. "In that case the path cleared for us. Now it's-ow!-closing in on us. It's trying to stop us. I've had it with this stuff!" Kurt whipped his sword out of his belt and hacked at a vine around his feet. It felt like steel cable. He chopped at it viciously until it parted and he kicked his way out of the remains. He panted, "Wes! Use your sword!"

  "No! I'm not going to draw the Sword of Geburah to clear brush."

  "You think we're just bushwhacking? Think again! This woods is out to get us!"

  Lisa looked up to watch for low branches. She caught her breath and cried out, "Wes! Kurt! The sky is coming down! It's-it's lower somehow!"

  The boys thought Lisa meant that low clouds had moved in. They were too busy fighting the woods to think about clouds. A wall of grossly swollen tree trunks and fat roots blocked the path ahead. When Lisa doubled over and rolled offPhilo with a scream, they did look up-and gasped! There were no clouds. Nor was there any sense of distance from the sky. The sky itself had turned a glassy cobalt blue and descended to form a ceiling, so low the treetops touched it and bent against it. The air felt squeezed and compressed. They were short of breath and dizzy.

  "The whole world's closed in on us!" Wes said. "The trees are pressed in. The sky's come down-" He lost his balance and fell on one knee. Surely his imagination had taken over. How could the ground itsel/'suddenly rise and throw him off balance? He knew he hadn't imagined it when Kurt said, "Even the ground is closing in on us! It came right up under my feet!"

  The woods, the air, the sky, the earth forced them together into a frightened huddle. The forest itself swirled and altered shape. Trees swelled and shortened into thick underbrush. Bushes elongated into deformed trees. Vines fanned out over the ground in thorny mats. Fingers of sky poked down and shattered into jagged blue-green leaves and needles.

  "Everything is-it's changing into everything else! " Kurt gasped. "It's all being pressed together!" The air in his lungs felt like liquid lead.

  "It's what Betty told me," Lisa called out. "She said everything is the same; everything is one. No difference between anything and anything!"

  "Wes insisted. "We're still us. You got that? We're still us!" He didn't know why it was so important to say that, but he knew it was. "We're still us!"

  "No difference," Lisa repeated. Her skull was in a vice of heavy air. "All same ... sky ... ground ... Lunacy ... Gaal..."

  "Gaal!" they all said together. He would help them! He had to! Wesley called, "Gail, help us!" His voice should have echoed, but the forest had closed too solidly around them. Trees bent near like people who bend at the waist. Thick branches entwined into a woven cage just over the children's heads. The low sky slanted like the attic ceiling on Grosvenor Avenue.

  Wes thought, I wish it was Grosvenor. I wish I was home. Even with all its problems! Aloud lie begged again, "Gaal, help us!"

  Over and over Lisa repeated, "Gaal is not Lord Lunacy! Lord Lunacy is not Gaal!" Kurt said, "Gaal is the True Shepherd! Lunacy hates us! He hates Gaal! Gaal loves us!" Wes raised his palms up as if he could ward off the huge chunk of sky that tipped and slid down at him. He shouted, "Gaal is the Lord of Far and Near! Gaal is the Lord of All Worlds!"

  Alongside the descending fingers of sky dropped a speck of white. It spiraled down and slipped among the knotted trees until it landed on the only tiny open patch of ground. It was a bird, the mildest and most harmless bit of Huff imaginable.

  "The pigeon!" yelled all three Friesens at once. Any ordinary bird would have taken off in fright. This pigeon was no ordinary bird. It was their guide and helper sent from the Changer himself.

  The pigeon hopped left and right. It cocked its head and looked at them intently with deep golden eyes. It turned away and hopped in the direction the trail should have gone. Its way was blocked by advancing trees. Surely the tiny bird would be crushed.

  But no, the woods slid back before it. Trees let go of each other and revealed space between their trunks. Bushes diminished to normal shape. Thorns shrank. The sky retreated above the forest canopy. The air relaxed and eased the pressure on lungs and heads.

  Ahead of the little company the path opened up perhaps ten paces. Shafts of sunlight shot through and laid bright patterns on the ground. The pigeon fluttered from shadow to sun, shadow to sun. Its white feathers alternately showed up bright white or gray.

  They followed the pigeon. The path under their feet was clear of roots and vines. No brambles reached out to snag them. As they moved forward, the trail unfolded like a tunnel laid with a soft carpet of grass. Sometimes the bird flew ahead and lit to wait for them. Sometimes it hopped. Now and then it cocked its head and studied them. It did not smile, for a pigeon's face shows little expression, but in its gentle way it beckoned and encouraged.

  They took turns on the horse's back. For several hours they traveled without seeing more than a few yards of trail ahead. The bird led them on at a good pace. The path opened up before them so surely and constantly that they did not hesitate to follow.

  On a long uphill stretch that curved gradually to the right, Lisa was in the lead. Kurt was behind her, and Wes came last on Philo. When the path leveled out, Lisa abruptly raised a hand to halt the others. Wes and Kurt thought she wanted to rest after the long hill. She really wanted to take a cautious look at the path ahead. It looked different. She bent down to examine it while the pigeon hopped in a little circle on a flat gray stone set into the ground.

  "What's wrong, Lisa?" Kurt asked.

  The pathway was no longer grass and dirt. It was bare and gray. In fact, it was a series of level stones set into the earth much like flagstones in a backyard patio.

  Kurt came alongside Lisa to examine the path. Excitement filled him as he asked breathlessly, "Is that what I think it is?"

  Lisa nodded. "It's the ancient stone pathway. Look how the stones are carved with those strange curved lines like writing."

  Wes slid off Philo and came up to inspect the stones. He traced a finger along the lines of the first one and said, "You're right! This leads straight south to Lake Nachash!" No one knew when or by whom the ancient stone pathway had been laid. It had served many travelers well, including the Fries
ens on a previous journey in Anthropos.

  Lisa pointed ahead. "Look! the forest is opening up!" As a stage curtain parts for a great theatrical performance, the trees and brush rolled back on either side to reveal a line of flat stones that led straight away through the forest.

  They swung along with fresh confidence. Kurt took his turn on Philo while Wes and Lisa walked. Wes cautioned the others that they would have to turn off the stone pathway at some point, since it led to the northern shore and they needed to go around the lake to reach the southern shore. On their way around the lake's western end, the going could be tough and the progress slow. For now, however, they reveled in their good footing and fast pace.

  When harsh croaks sounded high overhead, they didn't even make sarcastic comments. Vulcanus wheeled above the treetops with wings held in the familiar tilted V. The Friesens waved. The vulture made a smaller circle and rasped out a series of short, guttural cries. The squawks formed into something like words, but he was too high for them to hear. They motioned him down. He whirled in such tight circles that they thought he would go into a spin like a doomed airplane.

  Then they understood his cries and went cold with fear. "Soldiers! Soldiers! Flee!"

  Wes called, "Where?"

  "Minutes behind you! Flee!"

  "You mean Andron and Dominicus?"

  The vulture folded his wings and plummeted through the treetops. He lit on a branch ten feet above them. It whipped down with the impact. As it snapped back up, he said, "Not them! They have deserted! Never went back to Nephesh! Now a whole company pursues you!"

  The Friesens were stunned. Kurt asked, "But if they deserted, how'd the queen know we got away?"

  "Fools! Do you forget she has a band of eagles who patrol the skies? They fly so high you did not notice them. They saw you leave the camp after the dark lifted. They flew back to inform her." He dipped his beak and for a maddening moment the children thought he was about to preen himself. But he raised his head and looked at them with bright red eyes. "I alone of the eagles have renounced my loyalty to the queen. I see now who and what she is. I have come to warn you. Flee!"

  Lisa stammered, "But ... but we can't outrun them!"

  Vulcanus flapped his gigantic wings. He called again "Flee!" and took flight. He did not rise through the trees but flapped away a few yards above the stone pathway. The children looked for the pigeon. It was gone! For a terrible confused moment they stood frozen on the gray stones.

  Wes ordered, "Follow Vulcanus!" Philo snorted his disapproval, but when the children sprinted after the buzzard, he trotted behind. Wes panted, "Let's all get on the horse! Throw away the packs! No, we're still too heavy."

  "I will try, Lot-d Wesley," the horse offered.

  "You can't carry all three of us. Not far. We'll run as far as we can, maybe ride you it ways." They were glad for smooth stones beneath their feet. When they ran out of breath, they slowed to a fast walk. They ran again. "My side hurts," Lisa gasped. "We can't run all the way to the lake."

  "Keep going," Kurt urged her-and all of them. "Gaal wouldn't bring us this far and then leave us." He fell silent to save his breath. Ahead the vulture's wings beat steadily over the pathway.

  Suddenly Vulcanus doubled back and shot over their heads in the direction from which they had come. "Keep going!" he ordered. They ran on. In it minute he returned. "Not far behind!" he squawked and flew ahead of them again.

  Kurt stumbled. "I can't. I'm out of breath!"

  Wes grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him along. "Come on, we can do it. Look! The woods are opening up! We've reached the lakeshore!"

  'T'hey stumbled out of dense forest into a sunny open place. They stopped to suck in air and look for the blue waters of the lake. But they were not at the lakeshore. Instead they stood at the edge of a clearing of long, yellowed grass and reddish stone outcroppings. The grass almost obscured the stone pathway as it cut straight across and disappeared into the trees on the other side.

  Lisa cried desperately, "Vulcanus! Where's Vulcanus?" A croak answered her. Kurt pointed. "There, on top of that tree!" Halfway across the clearing, a few yards off the path, towered a solitary gnarled oak. Its twisted branches were heavy with glossy green leaves. The dense foliage would have hidden the vulture if lie had not perched (or rather slouched) at the very top of the tree. In the low sun his dull black feathers flashed a burnished bronze.

  Kurt found enough wind to run toward the tree and yell, "Vulcanus! How far back are they?"

  "Into the oak!" the bird squawked from his high perch.

  Kurt stumbled to a halt and peered upward. "What?"

  "Into the oak! Into the oak!"

  As Kurt hesitated, Wes ran full speed past him toward the tree. He whooped, "It's a Gaal tree!" Lisa dragged the reluctant horse by his lead rope. "Come on, Philo. It's a Gaal tree! We'll be safe there."

  "Young lady, have your senses left you? Horses cannot climb trees!"

  "No, no, not climb. Go inside. "

  "I doubt that the tree has a hole large enough for the three of you. You may try if you wish. I will hide in the woods."

  "No, there's room for all of us. Come on!"

  Wes stood at the foot of the oak. Its gray bark was deeply furrowed, its trunk massive, but it looked like an ordinary tree. When the others had joined him, he drew in a deep breath and said, "Open in the name of Gaal!"

  For a few seconds nothing happened. Then a door in the trunk silently swung open. No door had been visible before. It simply appeared. To enter the oak was as easy as going up one wooden step. Philo followed Lisa, but his panniers wedged in the doorway. She unbuckled them quickly and tossed them inside. The horse's long tail had barely cleared the opening when the door swung shut.

  To anyone who has not seen a Gaal tree, the inside of the oak would seem impossible. It was larger inside than outside. The children stood in a spacious, roughly circular room. Small divans, tables with rustic knickknacks, chairs, pillows and soft carpet decorated the space. There was a fireplace with an ornately carved wooden mantle, and in the hearth-almost unbelievable inside a tree-a cheerful fire blazed. A winding staircase led to an upper level. Upstairs, the children knew, there were bedrooms with fourposter beds piled with down pillows and comforters. Their skin began to itch in anticipation of a hot bath. Each bedroom would have a tub of steaming bath water ready, along with soap, towels and fresh, clean clothes.

  Right now something else held their attention. In the middle of the room stood a large table laden with fresh fruits, figs, dates, oatcakes, dark bread, honey and jugs of milk. Their stomachs rumbled as they realized their own hunger and thirst. Kurt said, "I'll have some of everything except the honey. I've kind of lost my taste for honey." They were laughing loudly when a snort from Philo interrupted them.

  The horse stood with his head lowered, peering out a window. He whinnied, "The soldiers! We are trapped!"

  The children crowded around the window, which looked out onto the clearing. Sunlight flashed off shields and sword blades as two, then four or five, then a dozen soldiers burst out of the woods and ran straight toward the tree.

  The company of soldiers halted just outside the door of the Gaal tree. They could not see any door. Neither could they see any windows, though four faces looked out anxiously from inside the tree. The windows of a Gaal tree work only from the inside.

  Vulcanus still perched in the uppermost branches of the oak. The soldier in the lead shouted up at him, "Eagle! Have you seen three children?" The buzzard preened himself but did not answer. "You foul bird, the day is almost gone! "fell us!" Still Vulcanus was silent. The soldier leaned one hand against the very door of the tree and snarled, "You have seen them! I have no time for your games. Where are they?"

  The bird squinted down at the visitors and blinked his tiny eyes. He extended his wings halfway, shook them and carefully folded them again, first the left, then the right. The soldiers paced in circles, kicked stones, sliced the heads off wildflowers with their swords and
cursed all eagles. Their leader had had enough. He roared, "Where are they?"

  Vulcanus worked his head up and down. He croaked, "Here."

  "Here? Concealed in this meadow? Come, I am certain you know. Where have they hidden themselves?"

  The vulture swayed from side to side and shuffled his taloned feet on the branch. Again he croaked, "Here."

  The head soldier made a sound of disgust and turned away. "Search the area!" he barked. "Slice through these weeds! Go into the wood margins! Look in hollow logs and behind every outcropping! We are under orders to find them or-" He did not need to finish his sentence.

  The soldiers scattered. Vulcanus watched while they trampled over every inch of the clearing. Three men even combined forces to lift a boulder. As if the fugitives had tunneled under it and pulled it back on top of themselves. The bird let out a series of hoarse chuckles. Soon the force returned to the tree one by one, sweat-soaked and angry. The head soldier extended his sword and pointed it straight at the vulture. His voice could no doubt be heard back at the city of Nephesh. "You flea-bitten, bald-headed, carcasseating liar! Had I a slingshot, I would shoot you from that branch. But I would not waste a pebble on your worthless feathers." He turned and whipped his sword around in an arc. His men stepped back quickly. "The little traitors were bound for the royal lodge," he said. "We will follow them and trap them there between the forest and the Cliff. You know it is their heads or ours. Night comes on quickly. Let us be off!"

  The company trooped on across the clearing. They poked at the grass with their swords as though their prey was hidden there after all. The last man to enter the woods looked back and brandished his sword at the vulture before he too disappeared.

  Vulcanus sat motionless for several minutes. Then he preened himself, spread his wings and glided clown to the base of the tree. In another minute the door in the trunk opened a crack. Wesley's face peered out. Below him appeared Lisa's face, then Kurt's. Above them emerged a white horse face with a black snip on its nose.