by A V Awenna
***
Vicky whizzed up a banana and almond smoothie for the next day’s breakfast. She added green tea to the blender to give a more puddingy texture, and cocoa powder, because she couldn’t think of a good reason not to. If in doubt, add chocolate, was one of her rules of cooking. Fortunately Blackbird seemed to like chocolate as much as she did. He was licking the mixture off the end of a ridiculous, tiny plastic spoon which had been forced on Vicky with a takeaway coffee, and which she couldn’t bring herself to throw away. In between licks, he explained why he’d come over to Vicky’s house in the rain the previous night. At least, he was telling a story in response to Vicky’s question, and she decided not to interrupt him.
‘Aelwen got bored being in the grove with me asleep, so she tried to talk with the other lives there. The birds, the trees, the tiny creeping creatures. They all come to her when she called – well, the ones that could move, not the trees, but she found she could talk with them best. Not talk exactly, don’t know the word, but you know what I mean?’
‘She can communicate with trees?’ Vicky asked. ‘Through feelings and images, the same as she does with you and Heledd?’
‘That’s it. I think that’s what she meant,’ Blackbird said, ‘not easy to understand, but something to do with memory of trees. She says trees got really good memories – you know you can tell how old is a tree, by counting his rings?’
‘Oh, yeah, I remember,’ Vicky said. ‘The dark rings are made in winter and the pale ones in summer, is that right?’
Blackbird nodded, chewing on a piece of almond. Vicky wondered if she should have ground them finer – it was difficult to know how to prepare food for someone whose mouth was so tiny. He swallowed and continued, ‘And if the summer was cold, that bit is narrow; long hot summer makes that bit wide. You remember that?’
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘Okay, so that’s how a tree makes a memory of the summers and winters. But Aelwen says trees can remember other things too, and because she’s still part tree she can share those memories. Don’t ask me how – was difficult for her to explain, but she said the oak in the grove could feel the magic when Demali was standing in the moonlight that other night, and made a memory of it. And Aelwen could make sense of that memory – she thinks she could have learnt the spell from that tree if she wanted, only of course, she knows it already.’
‘So…?’ Vicky asked.
‘Well, Aelwen knows I lost my magic. And she was thinking about when she sat beside the oak trees in the moonlight with Rowan’s book of spells, and her magic got woken. And she thought, if she could find one of those trees, still alive, maybe the tree would have made a memory of it, and we could use that memory to help me. Does that make sense?’ Blackbird asked.
Vicky nodded, tapping her lips with her spoon. She caught Blackbird looking at her and smiling, and remembered the way Dave used to tease her for doing the same thing. Annoyed, she took another spoonful of breakfast. ‘So,’ she said, ‘if we can find a tree that was there that night, it might remember the spell? But how would the tree know something Aelwen doesn’t, if they learnt it from the same book?’
‘Aelwen says there are things in that book she forgot, because she didn’t use them,’ Blackbird replied. ‘She was a healer, so she only used healing spells. But she remembers the book taught how to curse and bless, and how to remove curses – and take back a blessing. She thinks I cursed Tefyn, and there should be a spell to remove that curse.’
‘So we need to find the right tree – one that’s been around for hundreds of years. But, you know they could all have been cut down, don’t you,’ Vicky said.
‘I know,’ Blackbird said. He turned his face, but his sagging shoulders betrayed his despair. ‘It’s my best hope. And for Tefyn and Pefryn too.’
‘Does Aelwen have any idea where this tree is?’ Vicky asked. ‘It was centuries ago; I doubt there’ll be any trace of her cottage.’
‘She knows it was to the west of the castle, downhill, and so close that she could run all the way if she really needed to. There was a well near the tree and the cottage with nixies in – Rowan used it to travel to Annwn.’
‘Could someone ask the nixie in Aelwen’s grove if it knows anything?’ Vicky asked.
‘Nixies know lots of things,’ Blackbird replied. ‘But they don’t talk to people, even powerful people like Aelwen. Nixies please themselves.’ He turned to Vicky and gave her a searching look. ‘That nixie that came up to look at you in the grove – did she hold out her hand?’
‘No’ Vicky said, ‘she just looked at me, as if she was judging me, then went back into the depths.’
‘Be careful, Vicky. Be careful of the promises you make.’
It’s too late for that, she thought, remembering the previous night – then another thought struck her. ‘So why did you come over last night, in that storm?’
‘I thought it would be good cover – your people don’t go out much in rain, and when they do they keep their heads down. Didn’t realise it would make me so cold – I’m not used to being this small. I waited outside as long as I could,’ he continued, ‘I knew you wouldn’t want me to just come in.’
‘Poor Blackbird! We need to do something for you. You’ll never survive the winter. But,’ Vicky paused, ‘what were you going to tell me? I didn’t know you’d lost your magic ’til last night, and you’d never have told me if I hadn’t saved your life. What were you planning to say?’
‘I’d have made something up. Fairies are good liars. But,’ he gave her a big-eyed look so appealing she could only laugh, ‘I don’t have to now, do I?’
‘Not this time, no, but thanks for the warning,’ she replied ‘Listen, it’s a few hours ’til the Art group, and I’ve thought of somewhere I can get you some new clothes. You shouldn’t have to wear that scarf for much longer.’
‘Thanks, Vicky. This is nice – very soft and pretty – but won’t last long in the brambles.’