Yesterday's Magic

by Pamela F. Service

  Heather started to answer, then abruptly clamped two hands to her head. “Only thing I sense is an unhappy squawking baby. Not much help there.”

  Merlin shrugged. “All right. Let’s land at the mouth of the river valley—well back from the waves but before the trees get too dense. Then we can explore.”

  Welly was glad when the dragons broke their close spiraling formation. It was making him airsick. But the thought of landing in hostile foreign territory was not comforting.

  The two dragons banked and glided in over the foaming breakers and the braided river mouth. The water-course came together just before it emerged from the trees, and there the dragons settled onto the grass-held dunes. Stiffly the travelers climbed off their dragons, then stood in silence staring up the river valley.

  Welly was the first to speak. “Those are some trees. I’ve never…I mean, they’re enormous!”

  Slowly the four walked forward. The stunted trees Heather and Welly had seen seldom were taller than twice their own height. Merlin had known tall pre-Devastation trees, but nothing like these.

  Troll summed it up for them. “Trees big! Even in Faerie, never see trees like these.”

  As they walked under the giants, they were engulfed in silence and thin veils of fog. Drooping ferns carpeted the forest floor. The trees’ red-brown bark was shaggy and deeply furrowed. On the largest trees, the trunks rose straight and unbroken to great heights before branches emerged, weighed with feathery dark green needles. The treetops were nearly lost to sight as they swayed in and out of swirling fog.

  The silence was profound. Even the tumbling river seemed hushed. Suddenly Merlin stiffened. Clutching his Eldritch sword, he whispered, “We aren’t alone.”

  A voice rang out from the forest gloom. “The storied invaders! Attack!”

  Figures charged from the shadows of tree trunks and ferns. Most were as dark red as the trees, with long black hair and eyes that held no welcome. They were armed. Spears and swords glinted in the fog-dimmed light. With a raucous cry from high up among the trees, a creature leaped down to join the attackers. Ten feet tall, its human-seeming arms and legs were covered in shiny black feathers. Its eyes gleamed like coals, and its beak of a mouth snapped open.

  “Destroy them!”

  The four travelers hastily stood back to back, pulling out their own swords. Slowly the forest folk moved in. Then horrendous roaring from the beach turned all attention there as two dragons charged to the attack.

  In a mad chaotic flurry, the tall feathered figure and two others like him in gray fur and brown leaped toward the dragons, chanting and drawing power from the air. Ropes of light coiled, solidified, and flung themselves at the dragons. In moments, the beasts were totally ensnared and thrown helplessly on their sides. Then, with a collective howl, the forest people threw themselves at the four travelers.

  Welly found himself facing a girl his own age. She grinned like a wild beast and lunged forward with her stone-tipped spear. Welly beat it aside with his sword, then tried to jab at her, but she sidestepped and lunged at him again. The metal sword cracked her spear shaft in two, but she grabbed the bladed half and slashed at him, cutting a long rent in his jacket. Spinning around, he jabbed at her with his now-longer blade. She twisted aside, quickly backing out of range. Welly leaped forward and took another massive swipe at her.

  Suddenly he felt his feet sliding from under him. A mossy bank gave way. He tumbled down as the girl standing above him laughed. Flailing at the crumbling earth, Welly caught a root and slashed upward with his sword, cutting the turf from under her feet. The root snapped, and the two tumbled downward through moss, dirt, and ferns.

  The others were equally engaged. Troll gibbered and danced among the attackers, just avoiding their blades and poking at some with his own. When too many enemy crowded around, he let out a piercing troll shriek that clearly frightened them more than his weapon. Heather furiously beat two attackers back with her Eldritch blade. Desperately she wished she could focus enough to work some useful magic. She didn’t know if she really wanted to hurt these people, but she certainly didn’t want to let them hurt her.

  Merlin had used his sword to fend off several attackers, but now the beings in feathers and fur surrounded him, and he wielded his staff in a flurry of purple energy. But they had power of their own. He could feel its strength and its strangeness. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold the three of them off.

  The sounds of battle were suddenly sliced through by an ear-piercing squawk. Then a woman’s voice rang out. “Stop! My grandchild speaks!”

  Abruptly the attackers lowered their weapons and stepped back. The defenders blinked in bewilderment, then joined the others looking to where an old woman stood on a mossy knoll. Her braided gray hair was crowned by a basketwork hat, and she held up a baby in both hands. The child looked at them with wide dark eyes, then burbled into laughing words. “Friends! Friends come!”

  Heather clutched at her head as she felt a high voice burst inside. Good friend. Want help?

  Yes, she thought back. Thank you.

  The old woman lowered the child, cradling it protectively in her arms. “Kiwilah has spoken for the first time. She was born with the Power. Listen to her!”

  The tall being with the black feathers stepped forward. “But, Muweena, the stories have long spoken of danger coming to us on hostile wings over the water. You yourself and we Spirit Folk have felt it nearing. Surely these are the enemies foretold.”

  Squawking piercingly, baby Kiwilah wiggled in her grandmother’s arms until the woman put her down. Then, giggling, the baby crawled down the mossy slope, got unsteadily to her feet, and toddled toward Heather. “Friend!” she burbled, and threw chubby arms around Heather’s legs.

  Shaking her head, the old woman clambered down the bank as well. “Yes, Raven, the enemy are coming. But these are not the ones.” She stopped in front of Merlin and looked him in the eye. “Who are you, then, you with enough power to fend off three of our Spirit Folk?”

  Merlin bowed to the three and then to her. “Their power is indeed very great. We are four travelers and our dragon companions seeking only to find our way home. But I fear that there are indeed evil forces pursuing us. Perhaps it is they whom you expect.”

  The woman nodded. “Perhaps. The stories say, ‘Beware the day when evil beings on fearsome wings come from over the sea. They seek vengeance and power and would destroy much.’ Is that the sort of thing that pursues you now?”

  “It is,” Merlin said. “And vengeance, power, and silence is what they are seeking from us. I am sorry if we have brought this evil on you as well.”

  “Are they close at your heels?”

  Merlin looked west, to where dense fog now hid the sea. “I do not think they are close. But they are coming.”

  “Then there is time to talk and learn things of each other. But you said there are four of you. Have we slain the fourth?”

  “No,” a girl’s voice called from a thicket of ferns. “I tried, but as everyone seems to have made a truce, he is safe now.”

  Welly and the warrior girl, both covered in moss and dirt, stepped out of the ferns. “Hey,” he objected. “I broke her spear. She’s the one who is lucky for the truce.”

  Several people laughed, their weapons now lowered. One woman called, “This one with the eye shields must be a fearsome warrior indeed to have held off Takata. She’s a wildcat.”

  As others laughed, Merlin asked Muweena, “Could you release our dragons now? I am amazed that any rope could hold them.”

  The feathered man snapped his beak and strode toward the angrily twitching bound dragons. “Foreign fool, these aren’t ordinary ropes. Only Otherworld power could hold Otherworld beasts.”

  “Watch who you call a beast, birdbrain,” Blanche hissed through bound jaws.

  The three Spirit Folk—Raven, Bear, and Wolf—stood around the dragons, chanting and weaving their hands into a snare of patterns. Like smoke, the ropes dissolved. In o
ne fluid move, Hei Se reared up and drew in a gigantic breath.

  Merlin raised his staff. “Stop! We’ve made a truce. Their attack was a misunderstanding.”

  Hei Se snorted, sending a gust of wind that swirled sand and dust into the air. Beside him, Blanche crouched, flames from her nostrils curling a few ferns into ash.

  “I have signed no truce,” the black dragon growled. “This blow to dragon honor is crushing. Payment must be made.”

  “Payment in the form of a large meaty meal might be acceptable, though,” Blanche added.

  “Yes, yes, that could be arranged,” Muweena said, hobbling up to the group. She was again holding Kiwilah, who looked at the two dragons with wide eyes.

  “Doggies!” the baby cried happily.

  Hei Se snarled. “Doggies, is it? Well, babies do make good appetizers.”

  Roughly Blanche shoved him aside and with a toothy smile gazed down at the baby. “Hush, oaf,” she told Hei Se. “Even baby humans are cute. Aren’t you, cutey-poo?” The dragon blew tiny sparks out of her mouth, and Kiwilah laughed and clapped.

  “Well, if my granddaughter approves of you, you must be all right,” Muweena said. “Now let us go to the lodge. There is much to talk about and, I think, some feasting to do.”

  Welly looked around uneasily at the warriors, who moments earlier had been ready to kill them. But he did like the idea of feasting. Then he noticed Takata was limping and decided he’d better offer her his arm. After all, he had been the one who had knocked her into that hole. At first she refused, but when she took a step and nearly fell, she shrugged and took his arm.

  Troll strutted happily after them, pleased with the way the forest warriors looked at him almost with awe.

  The path they all followed between the enormous trees was narrow, and the dragons grumbled. But in pushing their way through, they discovered how fine the tall rough trunks were for scratching their backs and itchy sides, and after several pleasant stops, they had to hurry to catch up.

  The trail led up the valley, with the river gurgling steadily on their right. Night was coming on, and the fog-enshrouded forest grew dark and damp. Ahead, through the massive pillars of tree trunks, they occasionally caught a red glow. The volcano that during the day showed itself with a column of smoke at dusk glowed like an ember.

  Walking beside Muweena, Merlin asked about it.

  “Fire Mountain,” the old woman replied. “She is what gives us life. Long ago, when fire rained on the world, destroying most life, the Earth was angered that humans should be so careless of creation. She shook violently in her anger, and her skin ripped open, pouring out her flaming blood. But then she grew sorry that her anger had caused more suffering, so this valley was created, where the warmth of her blood bubbling near the surface could keep back the cold and sustain life.”

  The old woman laughed. “That’s the story, anyway, and in its way, it tells the truth. So much in this land was destroyed by fire or cold or disease. Here bombs triggered earthquakes and they loosed volcanoes, and though that brought more destruction, it also saved a small scrap of life. This is now one of the few places left where the Otherworld is willing to touch ours.”

  Merlin nodded. “And the Raven, Wolf, and Bear spirits come from there. Is it their story, about evil coming from over the sea?”

  The baby in her arms tugged at Muweena’s braids as she answered. “It is an old story, told here and in the Otherworld for many years. But I can feel its truth, just as I feel old, old powers surging back into this world. I have some writings here from the times before. But I am also this tribe’s Medicine Woman and can feel the even earlier truths.”

  Now baby Kiwilah was flailing her arms, making it clear she wanted to be carried by Heather, not her grandmother. Merlin smiled as the transfer was made, and the baby immediately began playing with Heather’s braids. “Your grandbaby has inherited the Power, then?”

  Muweena laughed. “She could mind-speak from the moment of birth, and what a lot she has had to say! I will be glad now that she is speaking aloud so my head will hurt less. Your companion, Heather, has the same Power?”

  “Yes, as have several others we have met. All young ones, though not as young as your Kiwilah.”

  “And despite your looks,” the woman chuckled, eyeing Merlin, “I can tell you are a great deal older. Yes, the world is changing, and a new generation may help with that. Kiwilah will no doubt succeed me as Medicine Woman. My other granddaughter speaks easily with spirits, but it is her other skill she prefers—the warrior’s skill. In the end, I pray it is the power to speak and not to kill that will rule the day.”

  “Which is your other granddaughter?”

  “That wildcat Takata, whom your own young warrior has fallen in with.”

  Merlin smiled. “Welly would be pleased to know that he is seen as a warrior. It wasn’t always so.”

  “One often does not see oneself as others do. Ah, here is the lodge. I fear your large winged friends need to stay outside, but we’ll bring them food.”

  Huge trees circled a clearing where the shapes of several long plank houses were visible in the dusk. In front of the largest house stood several tall poles carved into the stylized shapes of animals standing on top of one another. Several women came out of the main house carrying torches, and by their light, the entire party, minus the dragons, was led inside. A fire burned in a long stone hearth in the center of the lodge, its smoke lazily coiling its way toward a hole in the plank roof.

  Heather smelled wood smoke and marveled that any place still could have enough wood to build houses with it and even to burn. But then, this valley felt special, not just from the volcanic warmth but from the faint current of Otherworld power she sensed tingling in the air.

  Down, please, Kiwilah’s voice sounded in her head.

  Gladly. Just don’t squawk in my head anymore. Words only.

  She put the baby down to toddle unsteadily on her chubby legs toward several women with other babies sitting by the fire. When Merlin took her hand, Heather smiled up at him. She had never thought of herself as very maternal, but little Kiwilah was fun, as long as there was no magnified mental squalling.

  The party of four travelers took up seats by the fire pit, and several of the warriors who had fought with them did as well. Welly managed to find a seat beside Takata. Heather smiled at this but pretended she hadn’t noticed.

  More people kept coming into the lodge and finding places to sit by the fire or along the walls. The three Spirit Folk stood in the shadows at the end of the long room where the roof was highest. Finally Muweena stood up. All talking stopped as she raised a hand. “We welcome travelers from distant lands. They are not the enemy foretold, but they may herald that enemy. So now we must talk and learn—and of course feast, as is proper to welcome guests.”

  Happy chatter broke out again, and soon women and children brought in wooden platters heaped with slabs of smoked reddish fish. There were also berries, small hard fruit, and fried balls of nutty dough.

  As the eating went on, Merlin told the Medicine Woman about their travels and the view of the world he’d formed along the way. In the end, she nodded and said, “I understand what you mean about seeing unjoined pieces of a big picture. And I think what you guessed is right. That woman who first stole your friend now realizes more is at stake. She and her allies will do much to shatter any picture you and the others like your Heather and my Kiwilah might help create.”

  For a time, she sat in silence, staring into the swirling smoke. Then she smiled and looked back at Merlin. “So our job, young old man, is to stop them.”

  When everyone had eaten their fill, an elderly man brought out a long wooden flute and began to play. The notes were clear and high and soared through the smoky room as if they sought to burst out and rise to the towering trees. Several drums joined in, and Heather couldn’t help feeling how different these were from the drums of Kali’s temple. There the rhythm had been of fear and throbbing hate. Here it seeme
d to be the steady heartbeat of the ancient forest.

  After a time, Merlin asked if he might try the flute, and soon his magicked music filled the hall with the lilting rhythms and flickering images of ancient Britain. Younger people got up and danced, and despite her injured leg, Takata let Welly pull her into the light steps of a jig. Even the tall Spirit Folk swayed to the power-filled foreign music.

  As the music died, people gradually went out to their own houses. The guests were given animal skins to wrap up in and shown sleeping places along the wall. But before they were settled to sleep, Raven walked stiffly up to Merlin and bent close to his ear.

  “We sense the truth of your story, but it only heightens our fear of what is coming. Will you know when the enemy is near?”

  “I believe so, but they will try to cloak themselves, some no doubt using powers with which I am unfamiliar.”

  The raven head nodded. “Then we will set watchers. Shark will patrol the sea, and Gull will send his flocks into the air above. I have called for more help from our Otherworld. But the forces you hint at are fearsome.”

  Merlin frowned, looking at his sleeping friends and hosts. “They are. They take pleasure in destruction.”

  The Raven croaked, “Then we must seek to create—which is always harder. Rest now. There may be little enough time for that.”

  BATTLE

  It was a strange, oddly beautiful time of waiting. The air felt heavy with power, as if a storm was coming. But for the next few days, the western horizon remained clear. The fog thinned to show a faintly blue sky. Watery sun sent golden shafts of light through the trees, splattering the ferns underneath with moving patches of softly glowing green.

  The three Spirit Folk took most of the men and women to a nearby clearing and trained them further in warrior skills. Welly eagerly joined them, somehow always managing to do his training near Takata. Troll, to his surprise, acquired several younger warriors to be his special training partners. They were impressed to meet someone from another Otherworld and gave him a name that translated as Small but Feisty Spirit Warrior. This pleased Troll enormously, and he kept chanting it over to himself.