How quaint. “I see. Okay. Well, I am Jarek Whit. Pleased to meet you, Miz Burns.” He nodded in her direction.
“Just Burns.” She took a deep drink of the dark steaming liquid.
Jarek wondered how she could take that much in her mouth and swallow without it burning terribly. “And I am supposed to talk to you. Is that correct?”
“Yup.”
“And what is it you want to know?” From her earlier comment, he figured she wanted to delve into the crystal issue. He was wrong.
“Tell me about the beam hopping. Just how does that work? I mean, light doesn’t have physical form. How would one go about hopping on a beam of light?”
Jarek was hoping that this subject would not come up. He knew next to nothing about it but figured he’d just try and bluff his way through. “Yes, well, as you know, light is composed of particles that have mass. While you are correct that, in its usual state, light has no form, there’s nothing that says that by using a system of amplifiers and photosynthesizers, a form cannot be superimposed. It would be like taking the initial beam as raw material and adding form through the modulation process.”
She stared at him for a moment. “You don’t have a clue, do you?”
Chapter 25: Marzi
The terrace door framed a view of the forest floor below. The sun had made most of its journey across the sky. The shadows from the trees and structures were reversed from what they had been in the morning. The sounds of buzzing insects and chirping birds invaded Lothran and Ryshara’s home, making Marzi homesick for those same sounds in her own home so far away.
Ryshara had tried comforting her after the council meeting but had given up. Kind words, no matter how sincere, could not soften the hard reality that she was a prisoner in a faraway land with only a fading hope of getting home.
Marzi sat on a beautiful cushion fashioned from a smooth deep green and blue satiny cloth and, like all elven wares, it was expertly crafted. She stared at the open doorway, her eyes losing focus as they teared up. Ryshara had left about two hours earlier—she said to attend to chores—with an admonition not to leave the house.
Not that the Azyrean wanted to, at least not at the moment. A part of her, though, knew that at some point she would flee the Bough and find her way home. That small glimmer of hope was the only thing getting her through the day.
The sound of soft footfalls on the steps outside brought her out of her reverie. And, in that instant, Ryshara filled the doorway. “I am returned.”
Marzi stared at her, looking for some sign that fortunes had changed. Perhaps the young elf had discovered something that would help.
“We must gather ferns and hawk eggs from the forest for the evening meal.” Rys took her bow and quiver from a stand by the door. She motioned Marzi with her head. “Let us go.”
◆◆◆
Ryshara told Marzi to hold onto her neck so they could slide down one of the sturdy vines from the top to the forest floor. Marzi first shook her head no, but with some prodding, she did as Rys asked. Once on the ground, she smiled. “That was fun. And probably much faster than taking the tree stairs or the lift, huh?”
“Yes, much faster.” Rys strode forward, weaving around bushes and trees with Lapis ranging ahead. The wolf returned periodically, as if to check on the two.
“How did Lapis get down here? He obviously can’t slide down the vines.” Marzi watched the great beast with mixed admiration and bafflement.
“No. He takes the tree stairs and, since he has great jumping capabilities, he can do so in one or two jumps without hurting himself.” Rys spoke over her shoulder as she set a quickened pace. “The ferns we seek are found around the trunks of the larger trees, deeper in the forest. We will get the eggs from smaller trees with branches closer to the ground. We should make haste, twilight will be upon us soon.”
Marzi struggled to keep up, finding herself breathing hard with sweat breaking out on her face and plastering her blouse to her chest. She thought to complain but, noticing the deepening shadows, knew Ryshara was right. Having been alone at the edge of the forest just two nights ago, she didn’t relish the prospect of repeating that night.
They stopped beside a large tree and stooped. “These are the ferns we seek. Pick the smaller ones. The large are tough and bitter.” She reached down with a single graceful motion and plucked a handful of the tiny plants, placing them in a canvas pouch slung from her shoulder.
Marzi bent slightly, not having as far to reach as the tall elf, and picked some of the smaller ferns, one at a time, handing them to Rys. “Like these?”
The elf took the stalks, examining them from different angles, and nodded. “Yes, exactly.” And with that, she resumed her search through the forest.
After several more stops, Rys announced that they had enough ferns. “Now for the eggs. The nests are hard to see in the low light, so we need to move more slowly. Also, we can only get to those where the mother is not attending. Twilight hawks are very protective. Their claws will easily draw blood and leave scars. Be careful.” She stood in place, moving her gaze slowly around the area. “Nothing here. Let us move.”
A few minutes later, the elf stopped again. “There.” She pointed toward a small, bushy tree with low-hanging branches. “On the limb to the right.” She took another two steps and paused, gazing at what appeared to be an empty nest.
Marzi continued on toward the tree. “Should I check inside?”
“Yes, but be careful. Do not shake the tree or whatever eggs are there could fall out.”
As she approached the small tree, the Azyrean peered over the edge of the nest and spied two eggs. They appeared somewhat larger than the pheasant eggs from Pangrove and, in the fading light, appeared as beige and speckled with sapphire. She reached in and took the eggs in her hand, holding one of them up close to her eyes. What struck her most, though, was their warmth, as if they were somehow alive. She wondered whether the mother would be saddened at the loss.
Rys’s voice broke her train of thought. “Yes. Perfect. Let us go before the mother returns.” She took the eggs from Marzi, wrapped each in a series of leaves that she picked from the tree, and placed them in her pouch with the ferns. “We need one or two more. That should be enough.”
Less than an hour later, as the last of the daylight faded, the two made their way back into Twilight Bough. The bulbs on the plants were once again glowing soft blue and white, and torches positioned on the skywalks and bridges added a soft golden glow to paths between houses.
As they walked on toward the house, Marzi’s thoughts returned to the elf that, earlier in the day, had sat beside the empress—the one that seemed different from the others. “Rys, who was that man sitting beside Ariessa this morning? He kept staring at me. Well, they all stared at me, but he was different. He seemed kind of sad.”
“That was Lord Rintaur. He’s the lord consort to the empress, you know, her husband.”
“Why was he dressed differently? And he sat off to himself, not with the others.”
Rys shrugged as she quickened her pace. “He is not a member of the council. He was there only to accompany Ariessa. He has no formal role beyond that.”
That arrangement seemed odd. A woman ruling and a man just being there for no good reason. In her world, it was the men who ruled. Still, the memory of him peering at her so, as if trying to see into her heart and mind, left her with a deep foreboding.
The two mounted the steps to the entrance. As Rys opened the door, Marzi saw Lothran sitting at the table with a steaming cup in front of him. A wave of nausea swept over her when she saw Rintaur sitting opposite him.
Chapter 26: Marzi
As Marzi and Rys crossed the threshold, both men sitting at the table changed their attention toward the door. Rintaur held up his hand, palm out, to Lothran. Silence greeted the two girls.
Marzi locked gazes with Rintaur momentarily before averting her eyes. Standing in the center of the room shuffling her feet, she felt the stares of the others bo
ring into her.
Rys’s voice intruded. “Good eve, Lord Rintaur, father. We brought ferns and eggs. Marzi and I will prepare dinner.” She started toward the large alcove that served as a kitchen before turning to face the two men. “Will you be joining us for the evening meal?”
Rintaur smiled. “Kind of you to offer but, no thank you. I am expected home shortly.” He shifted his gaze. “Marzi Gloam of Pangrove, would you permit me a word with you?”
Marzi looked to Rys and Lothran, searching for clues to the correct answer. She saw nothing. “Um, yes, I guess.” She glanced down at her feet for a moment before raising her head. “And, well, could you just call me Marzi? That’s what my mom and dad call me, and my friends.”
A smile cracked Rintaur’s stoic gaze as he bowed his head. “Of course. As you wish, Marzi.” He motioned with this head toward an empty chair at the table.
Before Marzi could climb up in the seat, Lothran placed the box from earlier in the day and offered a hand up.
“Thank you.” Marzi offered a grateful smile to Ryshara’s father.
Rintaur pulled his chair up closer and folded his hands on the table top. “I did not get a chance to ask earlier today, but I would like to know more about your home world, if you would indulge me.”
The Azyrean again looked around the faces for hints. “Sure. I’ll tell you what I can. What do you want to know?”
“What of your plants—trees and bushes, berries and ferns?”
Marzi squirmed atop the box that sat on the chair. When the entire platform quivered as she shifted, threatening to topple over, she sat still and grasped the table with both hands. Turning her attention to the question, she scratched her right ear. “Our trees are not as large as here. We get our fruits and vegetables from farmers markets, and occasionally local fishermen will bring their lake stock to sell at the markets too. Sometimes we gather berries, but only during certain times of the year. Mother knows when the best times are. Oh, and we have lots and lots of flowers, in every color you can imagine. They’re very beautiful.” She shrugged.
“And what of the animals?”
“We have lots of different birds. They like to raid the crops so the farmers have to string nets over their gardens to keep them out.” She shifted her gaze to a bare spot on the wall as she tried to conjure an image. “Let’s see, there are greenbeaks, purls, red spotted montails, and, oh yes, field hawks, but they don’t come into the center of the grove much.” She turned her head to watch Rintaur’s reaction, hoping she’d given him what he wanted. Maybe if she pleased him, he’d help her get home. Maybe he could talk to the empress and convince her.
He nodded and dropped his gaze for a moment. The ensuing silence seemed to last forever. Finally, the man spoke, slowly and haltingly. “And these moonbeams you ride, how does that work?”
Marzi leaned forward in her chair, eyes wide. “It’s easy. And a lot of fun. We just stand up on the ridge and wait for a beam. When it comes along, we jump on and ride to the bottom of the slope. The beam makes a portal there. We just walk into that and end up back on top again.”
“And you say that you ride the white beams but never the colored ones. And when you took a green one, it brought you here. Is that correct?” His crystal blue eyes bored into hers.
“My brother jumped on a blue beam and now he’s gone. I was just trying to find him. So, I jumped on the next colored beam.” She paused and scrunched her face. “I guess the color matters, though, since we didn’t end up in the same place.” A pain sliced through her heart at the thought of Tovi somewhere alone. Unless, of course, his beam took him to the bottom of the hill and he was home in bed.
Rintaur’s gaze shifted toward the door. “If I might ask, how do you ride beams when the moon is not up? After all, as you can see, on this night we are in the dark of the moon.”
Marzi squinted as she glanced at the door. She hadn’t thought about that. “I don’t know. But in Pangrove there is never a—what do you call it? Dark of the moon? We have seven moons, and there are always at least three out at the same time.” She rubbed her chin. “Well, except when the clouds bring an evening rain. But it never lasts long. The sky clears, and we are back at it again.” Something about this discussion gnawed at her, although she couldn’t put her finger on it.
Rintaur nodded, his mouth drawing into a tight line and his eyes narrowing. “It would seem, Marzi Gloam of Pangrove, that you are not of this world.” He stood and strode through the door onto the treetop terrace.
Marzi hopped down off her perch, dumbfounded by what the elf had said. She hurried through the door after him. “What do you mean?”
Lord Rintaur pointed up at the night sky, which was painted with countless stars—bright and dim, red and blue. He pointed up. “There. You can see—no moons are out. Your home, this Pangrove you speak of, along with its seven moons, is somewhere up there.”
Chapter 27: Tovi
“Mom, I’m cold. Can I have another blanket?” Tovi whined as he pulled the thin sheet up over his shoulders.
His mother’s face moved into his field of vision. Her smile warmed him briefly. “Now, now. It’s not cold. You have a slight fever. But it’s just a little snake bite. You’ll be as fine as a moonbeam soon.”
Tovi wondered about the snake. There weren’t any snakes in Pangrove. There were some banded rat snakes outside of the grove, but they never came in. And they didn’t bite anyway. He shivered and pulled the sheet tighter. “I had this awful dream. I was stuck in this place with all these ogres. And I couldn’t get back. And they were all so much bigger than me.” A vision of a hulking giant flashed through his mind. “But there was this one ogre, and he was really nice to me. He was like my friend.”
His mother put a cool hand on his brow. “Friends come in all sizes.”
He snuggled deeper into his bed. “But I’m glad I’m home. It’s better here. Is Marzi around?” Not that he wanted to talk to her. She left him alone. It was her fault that he took that stupid moonbeam anyway. Still, she was his sister.
“She didn’t come home either, but I’m sure she’s fine. I’m sure both of you are fine.” His mother’s comforting words helped.
But something felt wrong. Of course, I’m fine. I’m right here at home. Why would she say that? He felt his mother sit down on the bed beside him.
“Don’t worry, my son. You will come home when the time is right.” She tousled his hair as she spoke.
Tovi tried to shake his head, but he felt weighted down. “What? I don’t understand. I am home.” He gazed beyond his mother’s face to look at his room. Everything blurred. Details eluded him.
The vision of his mother faded. Her voice drifted into the background. “You will come home when the time is right.”
He saw the rustling of bushes, although most of what was in front of him was foggy. The branch of a small tree moved aside, and a girl emerged, looking first one way and then another, a worried look on her face. Marzi! She was there, right there. His gaze followed her as she walked over to a small stream. She went down on her knees and cupped water in her hands.
“Marzi? It’s me, Tovi.” He tried to move closer to her but found himself stuck where he was. “Marzi, where are we? Why did you let me get on that moonbeam?”
But if she heard him, she chose not to answer. She drank from the babbling brook and then sat back. When she gazed in his direction, it seemed as if she looked straight through him.
“Please. I need to get home, Marzi. Help me.”
She stood, took a deep breath, and pushed on into the brush. Tovi was alone again.
His right arm pounded, and the pain extended into his shoulder and chest. “Ugh.” Tovi groaned and tried to move, but nothing worked. He ordered his eyes to open, but they disobeyed.
Klunk’s voice came out of the blackness. “Do not try to move. I rubbed snake grass and packed the wound with mud. Stay still. The sun has gone, and darkness is near. Try to stay quiet. I will make you better.” But the fadin
g voice didn’t make him feel good. Tovi was afraid.
“Set your fear aside for a moment, Tovi.” A new voice sounded almost like his father when Tovi was in trouble. But different.
Tovi tried to open his eyes, but again they refused. “Who are you?”
Words poured from the darkness. “We will meet soon enough. For now, there are some things I need to tell you.”
“Is Marzi here?” He wasn’t sure whether he was really speaking or if he was imagining all of this.
The initial silence gave way to an almost father-like voice again. “Your sister is well. She has her role to play, as do you. But our time here is short. So, for now, you must trust that her fate is in good hands.”
“She let me get on that beam.” He wanted this to be all her fault.
The voice without a face offered a shallow laugh. “A convenient explanation, even if it is incorrect. No one let you get on that beam. The blue moonbeam that you rode—and you did ride it magnificently—was placed there for you. It seems we chose wisely.”
“I don’t understand. I wasn’t supposed to ride colored beams.” The realization hit him that he’d just admitted his own complicity. He’d done something he knew he shouldn’t have done.
But the voice once again corrected him. “Tovi, some things happen for a reason. Take, for example, the snake that bit you. Do you think it was there by accident? Or, perhaps, I needed to speak with you and the feverish state you now experience is my way of meeting you.”
“You did this on purpose? But Klunk said it was serious.”
“Klunk will not let you die. You will awaken in the morning and the injury will be only a thing of memory. But you must keep our conversation between the two of us, at least for now.” When the voice came again, the tone had softened and caressed his mind gently. “Tovi Gloam of Pangrove, a very dark and dangerous time approaches. The ogres cannot keep it away, nor can you. But before it is over, they will need you. You will see things, things best seen through your eyes. You will know the answers because they are obvious to you.”
Lost and Found Page 8