Tree Slayer

by Harriet Springbett

  He yawned and fell asleep to the sound of her voice, and when he woke up again the sun was at eleven o’clock and his room was empty.

  Rainbow was properly awake this time. Mum helped her sit up.

  “So what happened after the branch fell? Tell me they didn’t cut down Druid Oak.”

  Domi, Mum and Christophe laughed. She couldn’t see anything amusing.

  There was a knock at the door. Domi opened it and revealed Eole standing in the same kind of thin overall as she was wearing. Domi told him to come in.

  Eole looked at Rainbow, who nodded, so he came in and sat on the empty bed, as far from Christophe as he could get. Rainbow’s mum – who looked like a witch, with all the dark make-up smeared around her eyes – passed him a wrap. He put it on the bed and answered Rainbow’s question by saying he was fine, which was always the right (but illogical) answer.

  “Christophe was just about to tell Rainbow what happened after you two were knocked out,” said Domi.

  Rainbow linked her fingers with Christophe’s.

  “Go on, then,” she said.

  Christophe dragged his free hand through his hair. “Well, the contractor stopped the machine, jumped down from the cab and shouted at everybody not to move you, in case you had spinal injuries. It didn’t exactly make up for bulldozing the branch in the first place, but he handled things pretty well – otherwise the crowd would have dragged you both out from the debris. Luckily, the emergency services had just arrived, so the paramedics packed you up in the ambulance. The journalists went crazy, filming the action, recording their news reports and taking photos.

  “The best bit was the mayor, though. He thought the police had come to protect him – but in fact they hustled him away to be questioned about allegations of corruption. Madame Moulin took charge once he’d gone. She told the contractors to pack up and leave, since they might not be paid for any work they did.”

  “So Druid Oak is OK, apart from the branch?”

  “Yes,” said Domi. “And given the reports on television last night, it doesn’t look as if anyone will touch it for a long time.” He paused. “So who’s going to tell them?”

  “Tell us what?” said Rainbow.

  There was another knock on the door.

  “That’ll be Melanie,” said Mum. She opened it and Melanie Brown staggered in, her arms full of newspapers.

  “Ah, Druid’s Baby and Tree Girl. Looking good,” said Melanie. “Forget royalty. Forget film stars. You’re the public’s new heroes.”

  She dumped the newspapers on the end of Rainbow’s bed, kissed her, and waved at Eole.

  “So, what are we going to call our association? We’ll need a good name, as well as a bank vault for all the donations we’ve received.”

  Rainbow gasped. “You’re kidding!”

  Melanie chuckled and showed them the newspaper reports of the previous day’s activities. She explained that she’d organised a telephone number for pledges. They were receiving donations for saving trees like Druid Oak all over France.

  “Thierry sends his congratulations, by the way,” said Christophe. “It sounds as if he’s been calling all his contacts, telling them he knows you and can vouch for you. I guess he’s had time to cool off over you letting him down.”

  “You’re going to be a busy girl,” said Melanie to Rainbow. “Oh, and a busy boy, if you want to do this too, Eole.”

  Eole watched them passing newspapers around and then looked out of the open window. He knew it was good news, because Rainbow was all sparkly. His brain told him he should be happy too, because he could continue to protect Brocéliande and the hidden One Tree, and keep Rainbow alive. But it would be official now. They’d have to meet people and tell them what they were doing. They’d have to report back on the trees they’d saved. It wouldn’t just be two soulmates and the trees anymore. It would be a thing. A big thing, judging by the zeros on the sums of money the public had pledged.

  Outside, the trees in the hospital grounds were probably whispering to each other. Now he had his treeopedia, he wanted to listen to the trees at home. A hoopoe called: hoo-hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo-hoo. He wondered how the hoopoe family in his garden were getting on.

  “Eole?” said Melanie.

  He turned back from the window. Their eyes were all on him. He looked down at his feet.

  “I’m exhausted,” said Rainbow. “Can you all go and get a coffee or something?” She squeezed Christophe’s hand.

  “Good idea,” he said. “Come on, let’s give them some peace.”

  Christophe shepherded Mum, Melanie and Domi towards the door, and Rainbow told Eole to stay. Poor Eole. He looked pale and skinny. Alexandra must be furious about him losing so much weight. Rainbow had to tell him the news now, before Alexandra whisked him back to the mountains.

  “It’s OK, Eole. I know this association isn’t your kind of thing, so you don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to. Our mission is over. We’ve saved the One Tree from being felled, and now the association will continue to guard it.”

  She closed her eyes and let her memory linger over the last seconds before the branch fell, on the images Druid Oak had shown her.

  Koad, it had said.

  As she and the branch, chained together, had started to fall, she’d asked the one thing that mattered: Are you the One Tree?

  I, Koad, am the last One, it had answered.

  Rainbow opened her eyes and looked at Eole’s blank face.

  “Druid Oak is the One Tree,” she said to him. “Its tree name is Koad, which is the Breton word for forest and wood. We’ve saved it, Eole! Which means we’ve saved Amrita. Nobody is going to hurt Druid Oak after all that’s happened – and with all that Melanie and I are going to do with our association. Isn’t that the best news ever?”

  Eole stared at her. They’d succeeded in their mission. He was no longer the Tree Slayer, but a Tree Saviour. He could go home with Maman and Hestia to where he belonged. He could return to his mountains, lie on his back in the purple heather with Darwie, and make cloud art for the rest of the summer. He could study his multiverse book properly, now he could read again, without being distracted. He could even add an annexe to his mapopedia and include his own scientific findings, the ones he wouldn’t discuss with Tintin. And he was sure he’d be able to actually enter Tintin’s laboratory now, not just hover at the door, which meant he could begin a new project. All the platelets of events that had been drifting apart since his eighteenth birthday now fused together into a hot spurt of white light. He was going to combust. Happiness burst from every pore of his skin.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Rainbow grinned. “You could show a bit more enthusiasm.”

  He smiled.

  “That’s better,” said Rainbow. “There’s just one more thing. It wasn’t the bulldozer that made the branch fall.”

  “Yes, it was. I saw it.”

  “It only touched it lightly. That contractor knew what he was doing. The One Tree dropped its own branch, Eole. I know, because I was in tune with it at that moment.”

  Eole shrugged. It didn’t matter how many branches the One Tree dropped. They’d saved it. And now Rainbow was out of danger and he could go home.

  Outside, he heard a bark. He slid off the bed and hung his hands out of the window. Darwie raced across the lawn, followed by Hestia and then Maman.

  “You’re in Rainbow’s room,” said Hestia. “Got your leg over at last?”

  Rainbow averted her eyes from Eole’s bare bottom protruding from the hospital overall. She sat upright in her bed and flicked through her travel log, which Melanie had put on her bedside table. There was only one page left.

  She picked up her pencil and started to sketch Koad, the last One Tree. The minute she was discharged from hospital, she was going back to hug it properly. She would see its thousand-year story and restore its hope with her good news for the future of trees. And she would no doubt be reunited with Amrita, too. Amrita would fulfil her promise
and from now onwards they’d spend halcyon days revelling, hand in hand, in the dappled sunlight of spring-green woodlands.

  And then she would ride home with Christophe, cover Apple and Acorn with kisses, and make amends with Thierry. She’d learn to ride her motorbike, as she’d wanted to do since last September. And she and Melanie, using the funds from the amazing, tree-loving public, would make a success of their association.

  She knew this was possible because she was RainbowMary, and if she wanted something enough, she had all the strength she needed to achieve it. Instead of helping one tree at a time, she’d find and protect all the ancient trees in France. With Amrita beside her, she’d discover and understand the spiritual side of trees and grow closer than ever to them.

  Now that was pretty cool, as destinies went.

  Acknowledgements

  Firstly, I would like to thank Françoise Gourvès from the Maison des Arts in Arras-en-Lavedan. I met her while admiring an art exhibition there, and she invited me to be a writer in residence at the arts centre so that I could carry out further research for Tree Slayer. Arras-en-Lavedan is renowned for its local artists, and has an outdoor art circuit as well as the permanent and temporary exhibitions in the Maison des Arts.

  While on my residency, I had help from lots of lovely local people, including farmers Pascal and Dominique Gainza and their sheep, goats, and sheepdog Dora. Special thanks to Karine and her team from the bistro-bookshop ‘Le Kairn’ in Arras-en-Lavedan, who hosted me for talks about Tree Magic, answered my questions, and fed me delicious dishes. More about my discoveries in the Pyrenees can be found on https://harrietspringbett.wordpress.com.

  Please note that while I use Arras-en-Lavedan as a setting in Tree Slayer, Eole’s farm, the campsite and the summer pastures are invented from different landscapes around the Val d’Azun. All the characters are invented too, of course.

  Thanks also to the people who helped my Brocéliande research by remembering the 1996 version of Paimpont, especially Valérie from Le Brécilien bar and Laurent Goolaerts at the library. Benoït at the CPIE environmental agency in Concoret and Marc Magels from the Arthurian Centre gave me information on the ancient trees in Brocéliande, while Concoret’s mayor was kind enough to show me photos of Guillotin’s Oak from twenty-two years ago. I hasten to add that I invented all the Brocéliande characters, Druid Oak and the village of Argoad with its bar, environmental agency and mayor – many thanks to author Suzie Tullet for suggesting I do this.

  My character-building was enriched by Juliette Henry, Nicolas Gilouard and Cedric Mauger, for which I thank them wholeheartedly. Many thanks to Jackie Maude, my reiki master, for all she’s taught me. And as ever, I must thank my early readers Darylle Hardy, Rachel Cooper and Melanie More for their time and diplomatic honesty.

  Despite their good advice, there was still plenty of work for my editor at Impress Books, Julian Webb. Many thanks to him for his valuable suggestions, which have helped develop my writing skills. The whole team at Impress Books are a pleasure to work with, and I’d particularly like to thank Sarah Sleath, my Tree Magic publicist. She helped me get to grips with the scary world of book marketing and, at YALC 2017, introduced me to the friendly book bloggers from #SundayYA.

  Talking of books, several authors have been key to inspiring me: Peter Wohlleben, with The Hidden Life of Trees; Henriette Walter and Pierre Avenas for La Majestueuse Histoire du Nom des Arbres, a French book about the origins of tree names; and the wonderful Robert Macfarlane and the late Roger Deakin for their nature writing. I’d also like to acknowledge all the other people who write, tweet and talk about the importance of trees and the environment. Although Tree Slayer is set in 1996, I have used tree communication research published in recent years.

  I’d like to say a general thank you to all book bloggers for taking their precious time to read and review books. Personal thanks go to my writing colleagues for shared pains and pleasures, and to my friends and family for their continued support and interest. They were the ones who consoled me when the real Hurricane Martin blew across southwest France in December 1999, destroying six out of ten trees in Cognac’s François I park.

  And finally I must thank you and my other readers for reading, reviewing and writing me the most delightful and moving messages. I hope you found Tree Slayer a satisfying sequel to Tree Magic.

  Copyright

  First published 2019

  by Impress Books Ltd

  Innovation Centre, Rennes Drive, University of Exeter Campus, Exeter EX4 4RN

  © Harriet Springbett 2019

  The right of the author to be identified as the originator of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers.

  British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN: 9781911293392 (pbk)

  ISBN: 9781911293408 (ebk)

  Typeset in Sabon

  by Swales & Willis Ltd, Exeter, Devon.

  Printed and bound in England

  by imprintdigital.net