by Terry Brooks
In the times he was free to do what he wanted, he wrote in his journal of his thoughts and concerns, putting down everything he was struggling with, even his thoughts of the King and his daughter. He tried to imagine the King’s thinking, to put himself in Arissen Belloruus’s frame of mind so that he could better understand. But it was a miserable failure, a process to find a justification for what he did not believe. All it did was further convince him that something was terribly wrong and needed righting.
He thought to speak of it to his parents more times than he could count, but he could not bring himself to do so. He knew that if he voiced his concerns to them, they would act on their feelings, just as he had, and take the matter directly to the King. That would invite a disaster for which Kirisin did not want to be responsible. His parents were already suspect after their efforts to move a colony of Elves to Paradise. The King would have no patience with an intrusion of this sort, particularly if he was hiding something. The best Kirisin could do for them in this situation was to leave them out of it.
He kept hoping Simralin would come home. He could tell his sister what had happened and know that she would offer a thoughtful response. That was her nature; she was not given to rash acts and emotional outbursts like the rest of his family. Simralin would think it all through; she would know what was needed.
But the days passed and Simralin did not come home, the King did not summon him, the Ellcrys did not speak to him, and his thoughts grew steadily darker and more distressed as he carried out his Chosen duties in mechanical fashion and waited futilely for something to happen.
“You seem like your head is somewhere else lately,” Biat told him at one point, squatting down beside him as he worked on the flower beds. “Is that business with the Ellcrys still bothering you?”
Overhead, the sun was high in the sky, a blazing orb burning down on the Cintra. There had been no rain in weeks. Everything was drying up, Kirisin thought, including his secret hopes.
“I’ve just been wondering how Simralin is,” he replied.
“Better than most,” Biat smirked. “She’s the Tracker all the other Trackers wish they could be. Smart, beautiful, talented—everything you’re not. Too bad for you.”
Too bad indeed, thought Kirisin as his friend wandered away.
For a long time, he did not visit the tree alone at night as he had for so long. Part of him wanted to, but part of him was afraid to face her. He didn’t know which prospect was worse—that she might not speak to him ever again or that she might, and no one would be there to see it or believe that it had happened. Finally, he could stand it no longer. Six nights into his fruitless vigil, when he was sure the others were asleep, he went to visit her. It was a moonlit night, and he found his way without difficulty and stood before her as a supplicant might before a shrine. Her silvery bark shimmered brightly, and the reflection of the moonlight brought out the crimson color of her leaves in startling relief. He stared at her reverentially, trying to think what more he could do. He knew he had to do something. He knew he couldn’t wait any longer on the King or anyone else.
He walked up to her finally and placed the tips of his fingers on her smooth trunk. Speak to me, he thought. Tell me what to do.
But the Ellcrys did not respond, even though he waited a long time, speaking softly, telling her his thoughts, trying to break through the wall of her silence. If she heard what he was saying, if she even knew he was there, she gave no sign of it. When he had exhausted himself and his efforts had yielded him nothing, he gave it up and went off to sleep.
The following day was hot and dry, and as he worked in the gardens with the others, Kirisin felt the last of his patience slip away. It had been a week now since he had gone to Arissen Belloruus, and despite his resolve not to act in haste or frustration, he did. It was a precipitous act triggered by Erisha. After days of ignoring him, he caught her looking at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. There was nothing overtly offensive about the act, nothing that should have set him off, but that was the effect it had. He climbed to his feet, sweaty and tired and mad enough to eat the dirt he was digging up, and stalked over to where she was standing next to Raya, ostensibly instructing the other girl on the pruning of callisto vines. Erisha saw him coming, read the look on his face, and tried to move away. But he would have none of it. He went after her, caught up to her, and blocked her way.
“What’s the matter, Erisha?” he snapped, hands on hips, face flushed and taut. “Is your conscience bothering you, cousin? Is that why you are sneaking looks at me?”
She faced him down for a moment, then brushed quickly at her chestnut hair and turned away. “Grow up, Kirisin.”
He was back in front of her immediately, blocking her path. “How about this? I’ll grow up when you stop lying. That’s a reasonable trade, isn’t it? Let’s start right now. You tell me the truth about your father, and I’ll start acting like an adult.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She tried again to move past him, and again he stopped her. “Get out of my way, Kirisin. If you keep this up, I’ll have you disciplined.”
“Go ahead!” He shouted the words and threw up his hands, ignoring the others, who were beginning to turn toward them to see what was happening. “Do it now! Do it in front of the others! Let’s tell them all about it and see what they think!”
She reached for his hands and pulled them down, her face inches from his own. “You stop this right now!” Cold rage etched her words in ice. “What do you think you are doing? Maybe you better go home for the rest of the day and see if you don’t have a fever!”
“Maybe you better stop poisoning your mind with your own lies and try healing yourself with the truth!”
He shoved his face so close that their noses were almost touching. His voice dropped to a whisper. “This is what I know. What I know, Erisha! Not what I imagined or made up out of thin air, but what I know! The Ellcrys spoke to me a week ago today. She told me that she is in danger. She told me that something bad is going to happen. She told me that she would have to be placed in an Elfstone called a Loden, which will be found by using three other Elfstones called seeking-Stones. She told me that if this doesn’t happen she won’t survive what is coming and neither will the Elves.”
His hands seized her wrists, and he held her fast. “You knew this and you told your father about it. You did it secretly, but I found out because when I went to your father to tell him of the tree speaking to me, I did not mention the seeking-Stones. But your father did. He knew all about the three finding the one. He knew! That couldn’t have happened if you hadn’t told him before I did. Admit it!”
He waited, eyes locked on hers. “All right,” she whispered back finally. “I told him. I waited until you left the gardens, and then I sneaked away and told him. I didn’t want him to hear it from you; I am the leader of the Chosen. It was necessary that it come from me. Now will you let me go?”
Kirisin stared at her in silence. She was still lying. He was so angry now that he thought he might strike her. Instead, he said, “I want you to take a walk with me, Erisha. Away from the others, where they can’t hear what we say.”
She shook her head quickly. “Not when you’re like this.”
He released her wrists, stepped back, and folded his arms. “All I want is for you to listen to me. But if you want to continue this conversation here, then let’s bring the others over, and that way they won’t have to work so hard at eavesdropping.”
Erisha shot a quick glance at the other Chosen and saw all of them watching intently, tools lowered, eyes expectant. She hesitated, and then nodded her agreement.
“Finish your work,” she called over to them. “Kirisin and I have something we have to discuss. I’ll be right back.”
She took his arm at the elbow and practically dragged him from the clearing and into the woods beyond, taking a narrow, little-used path that led to the bluffs overlooking the valleys west. He let himself be led, content
to wait until they were well away from the others before he had it out with her. Whatever else happened this day, he was going to get to the truth of things. If she refused to give it to him willingly, he would pry it out of her.
When they were well into the trees, she wheeled back angrily and poked him in the chest. “What happens between my father and me isn’t any business of yours, cousin.” She emphasized the word. “You have no right to question me about him.”
Kirisin held his ground. “I do when he lies to me. Or when you lie. Like you just did again back there. I spoke to Biat after I came back from your home. You never left the gardens. You told your father, all right. But it wasn’t then; it was much earlier. That’s why the Ellcrys asked me why she had been forsaken. That’s why she said to me that I had to listen to her: because even she—meaning you—hadn’t. She told you everything before she ever spoke to me, and you did nothing about it. Why are you lying to me?”
Her face was hard and angry. “I’m not lying!”
But he could tell by the way she said it that she was. He gave her a pitying look. “You know, when this is all over, Erisha, you’re going to have to live with the consequences. You seem to think nothing will happen to the Ellcrys, but what if it does? What if she dies? You took an oath to care for her, just like the rest of us. How will you justify failing her?”
She shook her head defensively. “I won’t fail her.”
“You already have. So have I. All of us have. We haven’t done a thing to help her! She has begged for our help, pleaded for it, but we’ve ignored her. I don’t know about you, but I can’t live with that. It means something to me to be a Chosen. I accepted that duty, and I won’t neglect it just because you or your father or anyone else decides it’s all right to do so. What’s wrong with you? Don’t you feel any obligation for her safety? Why are you acting like this?”
Her lips were compressed into a tight line, and she was still shaking her head. She tried to speak and couldn’t.
“Well, you have to do what you think is right,” he continued, stepping close again. “You have to answer to yourself for your choices. But I am going back to your father and demand that he do something. And if that fails, I will go to the High Council and ask them! And if that fails, I will go to anyone who will listen. In fact, I’ll start with Biat and the others. Right after I walk away from here, I’ll go straight to them and tell them what you and your father are doing!”
“You better not, Kirisin!” she said with a hiss. “You don’t know what my father would do to you for that!”
“Oh, so now I’m being threatened? I am not like you, Erisha. I am not afraid of your father!”
“I’m not afraid of him, either!” she snapped, tears springing to her eyes.
“You’re scared to death of him,” he said, and realized suddenly that it was true, that for reasons he didn’t understand, she was.
“You…!” she started, but couldn’t finish. She had collapsed inside herself, and she lowered her head; her hands came up to hide the tears and distress. “I hate you,” she said softly.
“No, you don’t.”
“I do!” she insisted.
“Tell me the truth,” he pressed.
“You don’t understand anything!” she shouted loud enough that he backed away a step.
“Then why don’t you help me understand? Tell my why everyone is lying to me!”
She threw up her hands, her hair flying everywhere. “I can’t tell you! My father…” She choked on the words as they left her mouth. “I mean, I…I can’t!”
“He said you couldn’t tell me, didn’t he?” Kirisin guessed. “Isn’t that right? Admit it.”
She looked at him, defeated. “You won’t give up, will you? You won’t quit asking until you know.” She took a long, slow breath and exhaled. “All right, I’ll tell you. But if you tell anyone else, I’ll say you’re lying.”
It was an empty threat, but there was no reason to point that out. “Just say it, Erisha,” he said.
She compressed her lips, tightening her resolve. “I didn’t want to pretend I didn’t know about the Ellcrys, but my father said I had to. He said I couldn’t tell anyone.” She wiped at the tears. “He is not just my father; he is the King. What was I supposed to do?”
Kirisin didn’t say anything; he simply waited on her. After a moment, she glanced up, as if to make sure he was still listening, and then just as quickly looked away.
“I love what I do, Kirisin, even if you don’t think so. I believe in what I do. I wouldn’t trade it for anything, and I…” She trailed off. “Sometimes I go to see her at night, just like you do. I like being close to her, being alone with her. I can feel her watching me. I know that’s silly, but that’s how it seems. I sit in the gardens and just…be with her. She never did anything to let me know she was aware of me until two weeks ago. That was when she told me about the danger that was coming and about putting her inside the Loden for protection.”
She shook her head helplessly. “I didn’t know what to do. I had to tell someone right away. I decided to go to my father. I begged him to do something. At first I thought he was going to help. But then he said it was more complicated than I realized. He said that I didn’t understand what I was asking, that I didn’t know enough about the Loden to appreciate what would happen if he did as I asked. He said we had to wait until my term as a Chosen was over. Once I was no longer a Chosen, then he would act.”
She held up her hands as he started to speak. “I know. I told him I didn’t see how we could wait that long. But my father said that in terms of an Ellcrys lifetime, it was nothing. The Ellcrys had been alive for hundreds of years. A few months in the tree’s life was little more than what a day would be to us. Less, maybe. It wasn’t necessary to act right away.”
“He can’t know that,” Kirisin objected.
“What he believes he can’t know,” Erisha said wearily, “is what might happen to me if he doesn’t make me wait.”
Kirisin started to respond and then stopped. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that there is more to this than you or I know. The Loden is an Elfstone, a talisman of magic. My father says there is great risk to the one who uses it. He wouldn’t reveal the nature of that risk, only that he wasn’t going to allow me to take it. I told him I wasn’t afraid. I told him that I was the leader of the Chosen, and that I was the one who had to take it.”
She saw the look on his face and scowled. “You can believe me or not, Kirisin, but that was what I said to him. It made him furious. He told me that I didn’t know what I was talking about. He said that if I persisted in this, he would force me to resign my position as one of the Chosen.”
She shook her head helplessly. “When I tried to object, he shouted me down. He was so angry! I have never seen him so angry. What could I do? He is my father! He was insistent about it!”
A long silence settled between them. They stared at each other, neither ready to say anything more right away. Kirisin was unsure how he should feel. He was furious at the King, but on the other hand he understood how Arissen Belloruus would want to protect his only daughter from what he perceived to be the danger of using the Loden. What bothered him most, however, was a nagging suspicion that the King might not have told Erisha everything he knew, that he might be holding something back. He had been duplicitous with Kirisin; there was nothing to say he was being any less so with her.
“What are you going to do?” she asked him finally.
In point of fact, he didn’t know. He had thought knowing the truth of things would give him the answer to that question, but it hadn’t. He was as much adrift now as he had been before.
“How does your father know that the Loden might be a danger to the user?” he asked.
She shrugged. “When I told him what the Ellcrys had said, he had me wait while he sent old Culph to study the histories to see what they said about it. It was after Culph had done so that he decided I couldn’t have anything to do with
the matter. He found out something about what would happen if the Loden were used, but as I said, he wouldn’t tell me.”
Kirisin thought it through some more. Then he said to her, “Don’t you want to know what that something is?”
She shook her head doubtfully. “I’m not sure if I do or not.”
“At least you would know how dangerous it really is to use the Loden. You would know if your father is right to forbid you.”
“Maybe.”
“You said you took your Chosen oath seriously. If that’s so, don’t you have to find out what you’re risking if you try to help the Ellcrys?” He paused. “She asked you for help first, Erisha. Not me. She didn’t ask me until it must have seemed that you had abandoned her. But you were the one she wanted.”
Erisha looked miserable. “I know who she asked, Kirisin. What are you suggesting I do?”
“Have a look at the histories. That way you can make up your own mind. I’ll help you. I don’t expect you to do this alone. Maybe we’ll find the answer faster if there are two of us searching.”
She was silent again, thinking. “I don’t know.”
“Remember when we were kids?” he asked impulsively. He reached out and touched her lightly on the shoulder. “We’d chase all through the woods outside your house and pretend we were on an adventure. Sometimes we would do it at night, when the woods were dark and scary. We pretended we were looking for secret treasure. We were friends, then. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but I think we still are. I don’t know why your father is so worried about what might happen to you, but I want to help you find out. Why don’t you give me a chance? Don’t you want to know the reason?”
