He made it to his destination without encountering anyone along the way. Once there he made a beeline for the post in the center of the village, the one that marked the crossroads. This time of day there was a good chance of finding people there exchanging goods, sharing news, or begging for scraps.
He was right, there were at least a couple dozen folks milling around.
He saw the tanner, a young man not that much older than himself who’d been running the family business since the pox took his father. Much walked up to him.
“Hello, good sir,” the other man said. “Looking for extra skins for the floor or beds this winter season?”
Much stared at him in surprise. No one had ever called him “sir” before. When last he had spoken with the tanner, only a week ago, there had been none of the deference he was now being shown.
“I hear you’re a good man with a knife,” Much said softly.
“You heard right,” the man acknowledged, giving him a look, “and I’ve heard that you’re friendly with the man who will save us all.”
“I am,” Much said, glad to hear the words. “He needs help, though. He cannot do it alone.”
“I’m not yet ready to live in the woods,” the man confessed.
“You don’t have to.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Listen,” Much said simply. “Be ready to come to our side, and fight when he calls. Can you do that?”
The tanner thought for a moment, then nodded.
“I can do that.”
“Good.”
The tanner dropped his voice even lower. “You might want to talk to Georgie. Things have gone hard on him. He might be looking to set them right.”
“I will speak with him, thank you.”
“Thank you, Much. God bless you.” He nodded and walked on, eyes searching the crowd for Georgie. Everyone he encountered gave him a little nod. He wondered if they’d all heard he was friends with the Hood, or if they were merely attempting to acknowledge the murder of his parents.
Bile rose in his mouth at the memory of finding their bodies. He swallowed it down, and pushed the images down with it. He had an important job to do, and he couldn’t let anything get in his way.
* * *
He spent the next four hours in the village, and by the time he left he had recruited more than he had hoped he could for the battle to come. It was with a great deal of pride and relief that he headed back into the forest, hoping that his friends had all safely made it to the new camp.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Marian was exhausted, and she felt like sobbing in frustration. For far too long she and Robin had tried everything they could think of in order to pass between the twin trees whose magic seemed to be holding them at bay.
They had tried walking backward through the space, but their feet froze just as fiercely to the ground. Robin had attempted to fire an arrow with a rope attached to it, so they might pull themselves through using their arms, but the arrow had stopped before passing between the two trees, clattering lifeless to the ground. They had even tried getting down on hands and knees to crawl through, but with no success.
In a fit of desperation Robin had even tried going behind the trees to see if he could walk through from the other direction. They had discovered, though, that when he went around the trees they disappeared from sight. Wherever the path between them led, it was somewhere that was beyond this area of the forest.
Now twilight was upon them, and it was becoming much harder to see. She was getting desperate. They had spent a whole day and if they didn’t manage to make it past the first guardian how could they ever reach the heart of the forest in time to thwart John?
“There has to be another way,” Marian groaned as she stood, staring at the obstacle in their path.
“Marian, the book, did it say that more than one person was required to complete this task?” Robin asked.
“It didn’t say so directly,” she answered, “but it seemed to imply it. Cardinal Francis certainly believed that we both would be needed.”
“What if we’re going about this all wrong?” he pressed. “What if it’s not being strong for ourselves, but being strong for others?”
“What do you mean?”
“I have an idea.”
Robin turned his body, angling it away from the opening so he was once again set to pass to the left of both trees. He stepped slowly, purposefully. Then when he had drawn abreast of the tree on the left, he picked up his left foot, but then pivoted on the stationary right one. He slammed his back up against the tree and yelled in anguish.
“It will burn you!” Marian told him.
He stretched his arm out to her.
“Give me your hand, Marian.”
She grasped his hand.
“On the count of three, I’m going to yank as hard as I can, and try to propel you through. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Don’t let go.”
“I won’t.”
“Ready? One, two… Three!”
Robin yanked on her arm so hard that pain shot up the full length. To her shock, though, her feet came free of the ground. She half flew, half fell toward the opening between the trees, and braced herself, wondering if she’d hit the threshold and fall, just as the arrow had.
She kept going, yelped in shock. The forest just past the two trees looked dramatically different than the portion that lay behind her. She started to fall, but kept hold of Robin’s hand. As she hit the ground she yanked on it with all the strength left to her, and he came flying through the opening. He landed hard on top of her.
They lay there for a moment, both in pain and with the wind knocked out of them. She looked back between the two trees, but saw only darkness on the other side. They had passed the first gateway on their quest.
Out of that darkness Champion trotted and came up to nuzzle her cheek. Show-off, she thought. Clearly the barrier was designed to keep out people, but not the animals of the forest.
Robin rolled off her with a groan.
“Perhaps Champion’s the one meant to go after the heart of Sherwood, and not us.”
“You were right, though,” Marian panted. “About us needing to be strong for each other.”
“Of course he was right,” a thin, ethereal voice whispered above them.
“Who said that?” she asked, struggling to sit up.
“We did,” the voice replied.
“Are you the first guardian?” she asked, still searching for the speaker. Then she blinked in astonishment. The limbs of the two trees rubbed together, and the sound they made formed the words.
“We are,” the tree said. “A leader’s physical strength must be given to the leadership of the people. You must do for others what they cannot do for themselves.”
The voice was like a sighing, similar to when wind would blow through the branches, but so much more distinctive.
“Do you know where we go from here?” Robin asked.
“You must seek the guardian of the mind.”
“Where can we find the guardian?” Robin pressed.
“That you must solve for yourselves,” came the answer.
“Of course we must.” Robin sighed and closed his eyes, the muscles in his jaw twitching.
* * *
Robin rose slowly to his feet and then reached down to help Marian stand. As soon as she was up, though, he had to catch her, as her legs didn’t seem to want to support her.
He was exhausted and it stood to reason she would be as well. They had set out early with barely any sleep and the ordeal of passing through the trees had drained what little reserves he had left. Night would soon be upon them and it was time to think about finding shelter from the cold.
He blinked as he realized something. The air around them was cool, but not cold. He looked around at this part of the forest, different from where they had emerged.
Here it was not an early, harsh winter, as it had been on the other s
ide of the gateway trees. Here it was still autumn, as though this part of the forest was untouched by the evil of the prince and the Sheriff. He breathed in deep the heady scents of the life that was growing all around him.
They still needed to rest, but not having to worry about the killing cold was a godsend.
“I think we need to stop for the night.”
Marian looked like she was going to protest, but then she reluctantly nodded. “I’m not sure I can go much further right now anyway.”
“Exactly. We both need the rest.”
He knew she was worried about how little time remained to them. So was he. But pushing themselves to the breaking point was the fastest way to fail, and, quite possibly, to die.
A short distance away from the gateway he could see a giant, felled tree. They could find shelter next to it for the night.
* * *
They finished the last of the food that Robin had brought with them and soon after he made a pile of leaves for her to sleep upon.
Shyly Marian lay down, relieved that he would be sleeping near enough to awake if she had need of him but not so close that she felt unsettled. As it was she felt herself blushing as she drifted off to sleep, realizing that she could hear him breathing.
* * *
Robin was up before dawn. He had foraged and found some nuts and berries that he had waiting for Marian when she woke. She glanced at the breakfast in surprise.
“The mighty hunter captured these?” she asked with amusement as she began to eat.
“Somehow, it felt… wrong… to hunt here,” he admitted.
“I understand,” she said, looking at him intently.
Even in the morning, with leaves stuck to her hair, she was beautiful. In fact, he was certain that she had never looked more beautiful. He forced himself to look away and he cleared his throat.
“Soon as you’re ready we can go,” he said.
Shortly after they were on their way. Champion had sniffed at the berries before catching a mouse for his breakfast. The little fox trotted along contentedly with them.
Robin looked at everything they passed, not only marveling at how different this part of the forest was, but also marking the path by which they would return. He made sure to turn frequently, looking behind them. The way would look different, after all, when walking in the other direction.
After a while he heard rushing water. It grew louder with each passing stride until finally they stood at the edge of a river. He looked across it and felt both relief and dismay at the same time.
“I think we’ve reached the second challenge,” Robin said.
“What do you mean?” Marian asked.
The other shore was close, alluringly so. Downriver the banks became steep, impassible, and he could hear the sound of rapids. Several large rocks reared their heads above the water.
Upstream, however, the river was even narrower, and appeared more tranquil.
Too much so.
“In finding the elixir I had to cross a stream that seemed peaceful until I stepped foot in it. Then it tried to kill me, and continued to do so until I swam entirely underwater, focused on my goal and not what was happening around me.”
“Is that what we’re meant to do here, as well?” Marian asked dubiously.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted.
“Then perhaps you should ask me,” a sing-song voice called out.
Robin turned and saw a girl sitting on a limb of a tree that extended out over the river. She had a narrow face, pointed ears, and very large eyes. She reminded him greatly of the boy who had given him the healing elixir. Only where the boy had possessed green eyes and green coverings, the girl had blue eyes and blue flowers that covered her. The boy had tested him with rhymes.
“Are you the guardian whom we seek?” Robin asked. “The one of the mind, that the book does speak?”
“You don’t need to do that with me,” the girl said, her eyes growing larger. “You’ve met Elian, then.”
“If he’s the boy guarding the elixir then yes, I have.”
“He’s lazy,” the girl said.
“He did seem to enjoy just sitting by the water,” Robin said, wondering where she was going with this.
The girl’s eyes drifted past him to Marian. “Elian thinks he’s clever,” she said. “He’s not. In order to cross my river, however, you will need to be.”
“Do you have a riddle for us?” Marian asked.
“Not a riddle so much as a question.” The girl smiled, revealing pointed teeth. “How do you cross the river without drowning?”
“Wisdom would suggest that crossing at the calmest, narrowest part would be the safest,” Marian said.
“But does not wisdom also tell us that looks can be deceiving?” the girl asked. “What if I were to tell you that somewhere in this river there lived a sea monster, one that devours all who enter? What if I were to tell you that the water here is heavier, it weighs down limbs and clothes and makes swimming nearly impossible? And what if I were to tell you that downriver there are cruel rapids, and a waterfall whose drop has killed many?”
“Then I would tell you that I need to know the safe way across,” Marian said.
“My job is not to tell you.” The smile grew wider. “My job is to watch you fail and die.”
“Elian was not so bloodthirsty as you,” Robin said, sarcasm dusting his voice.
The girl creature shrugged. “Like I said, Elian is lazy.”
Champion stepped forward, sniffing at the river curiously.
“If the fox gets wet, it will surely die,” the girl said.
Marian moved lightning fast to snatch him up into her arms. As she did, Robin stared at Marian’s clothes. While the trousers were sensible for the trek and much better than heavy skirts, they were still quite thick and would soak up the water and drag her to the bottom of the river. He couldn’t risk having her make the attempt.
“We could build a raft,” he said, looking at the trees around.
“The monster will eat you for sure, if you build a raft.”
“If he sees us,” Marian countered. “We don’t even know what part of the river he’s in.”
“He’s either in front of us or upstream, where prey would be most likely to cross,” Robin suggested. “Perhaps we can get him to show himself, and I can kill him,” he said, hand reaching for the black arrow in his quiver.
“You will only see him when he’s eating you,” the girl said. It sounded like a taunt.
“Then help us to cross,” Marian said. “Please.”
“A thousand years, and you’re the first to ask for my help,” the girl said, sitting up taller.
“Then please help us.”
The girl seemed to consider it, but then shook her head. “It is wise of you to ask, though.”
“If you will not help us, then at least tell us how we may cross safely,” Marian implored.
“It’s a wise woman who can ask that. For seeking counsel I will tell you this—take the path you would not take.”
“The rapids,” Marian muttered. She turned to look at Robin. “We don’t have proof of the monster or the heaviness of the water. The paths that it seems most likely we would take are straight across or upstream.”
“But we can see the impossibility of scaling the banks further on,” he argued, “and hear the rushing of the river.”
“The dangers that way are known, at least,” Marian said. “If we can find a way to protect Champion, I say we take the known dangers.”
As they spoke, Robin studied the blue girl’s face to see if there was anything he could read in her eyes.
“She’s lying about something,” he said.
The girl smiled. “Very good. But which thing?”
Marian pointed. “The rocks downstream look fairly flat on top. They’re also dry. Let’s use them to cross.”
“What if none of them get close enough to the far bank?” Robin said.
“At least we know what lies
that direction,” she replied, and she shot him a look of confidence. “Sometimes the path that seems most dangerous can be the safest one.”
Marian moved down the river embankment a few feet. Just before the bank became impossibly steep, there was a rock two feet away from the slope. Robin was anything but certain, but he decided to trust her instincts.
She perched at the edge of the water, staring intently at the first rock.
“Put Champion here in my pouch,” he said opening the top of the bag that held their food and supplies.
Marian deposited the squirming fox inside and Robin closed it over him. “No wet paws for you,” he muttered. To Marian he said, “Let me go first.”
She nodded and stepped back. He got up to the water’s edge, and then was able to step out onto the stone. He paused, waiting for the river to flood over him, or the stone to turn out to be part of the monster’s back.
Nothing.
He glanced at Marian, who nodded encouragingly at him.
The second stone was about the same distance away. He made it there, then turned to call out.
“Come on,” he said, praying they were making the right decision.
Marian made the first rock, and he breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened. He then turned and found the next rock.
Slowly they made their way as the path took them downstream. With each step the sound of the water grew louder. They were three-quarters of the way across the river when they rounded a small bend.
Suddenly Robin could see the rapids that they’d been hearing. Jagged rocks were surrounded by violently churning water and foam closer than he had expected. Marian had been right about one thing, though. There were rocks that led them all the way across.
The last rock—the one that lay a mere foot from the far bank—was also at the start of the rapids.
Suddenly he heard a low rumbling sound, something not made by water or stone. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he thought about what the girl had said, about their being a monster in the river. Maybe that was one of the things she’d been telling the truth about.
Either way, he had a sudden urge to get to the other side as fast as possible. Still alert for a trap, he kept moving, picking up his pace, but also keeping an eye on Marian. Finally he made it to the next-to-last rock, wide enough for her to join him. The gap between it and the last one was slightly wider, three feet as opposed to two. The final rock was also wet. A slip would send them crashing down into the rapids, where their heads would likely be bashed in.
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