Key to the Journey (The Chronicles of Hawthorn, Book 2)

by Rue

  “Thank you, my Priestess. I asked that the coven consider how Hazel’s skills could be used to protect Flynn while she moves through the levels and learns to wield her own magick. I feel it may be appropriate to raise Flynn and Hazel to Level Four after the Winter Solstice, due to their immediate need to work with magickal tools, the Elements, and casting circles.”

  “We will certainly consider your wise counsel when my daughter returns from her Seeking,” replied Kahu.

  This time Thelema made the gargantuan effort to lift her bulk and rise to her feet, but again she spoke without official approval. She coughed loudly, licked her thick lips, and began, “Some of us are hearing about this Seeking for the first time Ka—my Priestess,” she exchanged an unreadable look with Tamsin, “and it concerns me that the Grand Coven was not consulted before you resurrected this barbaric practice.” Her tone held judgment and condescension.

  Kahu chose to take the offensive, “Perhaps if we still maintained the Seekings our current Priestess training would be more selective.” She paused to let the implication of her words sink in and glanced at the ancestral carving of Temarama. “The powerful Temarama completed her Seeking and created a bond with Tane Mahuta, while on her journey, that resulted in the ultimate protection of our land. I cannot know what Flynn will discover on her Seeking, but when she returns to us I believe she will have found a connection to her magick that will save us all—one day.”

  Thelema dropped to her seat with an audible exhale as her only response, but she did not place her wand in support of Pounamu’s petition.

  In the end, Thelema was the only dissenter.

  Kahu ended the gathering and invited Pounamu to stay in Moa Bend for the night.

  The witch of the wood graciously accepted, but asked if she and Hazel could have a private moment.

  Mistress Nokomis hovered around, and seemed anxious to get Hazel back to the Healing Hut.

  Pounamu nodded toward the healer and bowed to the High Priestess.

  “I need a moment with our guest, Nokomis. There is no need for you to stay behind.” Kahu smiled kindly and nodded a farewell.

  Mistress Nokomis balked at the dismissal, but she did not challenge the High Priestess.

  “What other favors may I grant, Mistress Pounamu?” Kahu’s voice held the edge of a woman who recognized wisdom, but did not appreciate being manipulated.

  “I would simply ask that you might allow this dear youngling to keep me company while I am your guest in the village?” Pounamu smiled kindly and inclined her head.

  “It would appear that you intend to keep Hazel from returning to the Healing Hut, Auntie.” Kahu smiled and shook her head. “I’m worried for my daughter, and I don’t have the energy to fight both of you. Hazel, you may stay in Flynn’s room tonight—under the protection of the High Priestess. Tomorrow I’ll deal with Nokomis and you will return to your dear worried mother and promise never to cause her another moment of pain.”

  “I promise, my Priestess,” Hazel replied, for once getting the title correct on her first try.

  “Thank you, my darling,” Pounamu said to Kahu. Her green eyes danced with the thrill of success. She would send word of their victory to Flynn at first light.

  A light sprinkle of rain turned to a torrential downpour, complete with booming thunder and cracking lightning, by the time Ash led them back to the camp of the Kowao.

  Flynn’s leg ached. The heavy rain had washed away her poultice and the gash seeped a steady flow of blood through the thin wrapping. She gladly accepted the offer of shelter under an animal hide lean-to. Although a bit of water seeped through the structure, she welcomed any relief from the intense pelting of the cold rain.

  “Stay here with Kano, I have to tell the elders about you and talk to the healer.” Ash did not wait for a reply. She ducked back into the sheets of rain and disappeared.

  Kano motioned for the falcon.

  “Let me see if Oturu wants a new friend,” Flynn said. She placed her hand on the talons perched on the cadge on her shoulder and waited.

  Oturu sent Flynn an image of Kano holding her.

  “Good news, Kano, the falcon is feeling friendly.” Flynn carefully placed Oturu on her own bare hand and passed the gauntlet to Kano. “Put that on your strongest arm and I’ll pass Oturu to you.”

  Kano eagerly slipped the glove on her hand and sat down on a large rock under the protective hides suspended above them.

  Flynn gingerly passed the falcon to Kano and scooted closer to the pair.

  The mute girl pointed to the black and red hood covering Oturu’s head.

  “Hmmm, I wondered about that, too. It kind of helps her stay calm. Her vision is so good that too many images or things moving too fast can startle her. So, the hood keeps out all the extra stuff and when she stands guard, we take it off.” Flynn smiled and patted Kano’s shoulder. When her hand touched the little girl’s skin, Flynn saw an image of Ash in a lovely summer dress and suddenly a man’s hand cracked across Ash’s face and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

  Kano’s eyes went wide with fright.

  Flynn pulled her hand off of the young girl’s shoulder and immediately moved to steady Oturu, but she noticed that the bird hadn’t received Kano’s image and stood steady on the girl’s arm.

  Kano stared at Flynn and swallowed.

  “Did that really happen, Kano? Did someone hurt your mother?”

  The wild girl’s eyes darted to the rain outside. She looked back to Flynn and nodded her head twice.

  “Why? Why would someone do that?” Flynn’s heart hurt for Kano.

  She took Flynn’s hand in her small grubby one and closed her eyes.

  Images hit Flynn like tree branches in a hurricane.

  Ash trying to use magick, and failing.

  Ash crumpling to the ground in tears.

  A big strong man holding Ash tenderly and smoothing her bright red curls.

  The same man throwing his plate at her head and shouting.

  The angry red-faced man prying her hand off his arm and storming out of a cottage.

  A dark purple-brown bruise on Ash’s face.

  The man shoving Ash away and coming for…

  Flynn felt the gut-wrenching terror pulsing from Kano. She saw the big man fall with a knife buried deep in his thigh.

  Kano cried. The relief of sharing this burden opened her heart.

  Flynn placed Oturu on her satchel and hugged Kano tight.

  The last image she saw showed Ash and Kano running in the darkness, the scene of the lights in the window of a cottage shrinking into oblivion.

  “I’m so sorry that happened to you and your mother,” Flynn patted Kano’s back.

  “Safe,” Kano uttered a single word.

  Flynn leaned back and looked at the child. “Did you speak?”

  Kano searched the rain for anyone who might bear witness to her secret. “Safe.”

  This time Flynn saw the girl’s lips move and she knew it wasn’t an image in her mind. The mute girl had spoken. Before she could ask any more questions or receive any more information from Kano, Ash rushed back under the hides and squeezed the water out of her thick ropes of hair.

  “The elders wish to speak to you, but first I’ll take you to the healer,” Ash said to Flynn. She looked and noticed the tears on Kano’s cheeks and immediately stooped to protect her daughter. “What happened? Why is she crying?”

  Flynn saw Kano’s eyes widen in fear and she knew she couldn’t give the real answer. “I’m sorry, I let her hold Oturu and the silly falcon pecked her on the head.”

  Ash pulled Kano toward her, “Are you all right my little riroriro?”

  Kano nodded vigorously.

  “There wasn’t any blood. I think it just surprised her,” Flynn lied. “Let me secure Oturu’s leash and then we can go to the elders.” She quickly attached the leash to Oturu’s anklet, tied a falconer’s knot around one of the poles of the lean-to, and warned Kano to keep an eye on the b
ird, but not get too close. There wasn’t time to explain everything to Oturu, but she hoped the falcon would ignore the leash and be thankful for the shelter.

  “Will you be all right, riro?” asked Ash.

  Kano smiled, wiped her tears, and nodded.

  Ash put a supportive arm around Flynn and they stepped out into the wall of water. The healer’s tent was nearby and Flynn felt better as soon as they ducked under the door flap.

  “Yuka, this is Flynn. Her leg is injured.”

  The elderly man nodded his head. “Sit,” he said.

  Flynn lowered herself onto the stack of furs he had indicated and looked around the small space. All of Yuka’s herbs were in pumice pots or wrapped in leather, ready to transport to a new camp whenever the Kowao needed to move. But his selection was small compared to that of Mistress Nokomis and the Apothecary back in Moa Bend. She watched as Yuka pounded the herbs with his grey stone. “May I ask about the poultice?”

  “Ask,” replied Yuka.

  “I smell burdock and bitter weed, can you tell me what else you are using?” asked Flynn.

  “Kowhai.”

  Flynn looked at Ash and shook her head.

  “She thinks kowhai is poison, honored healer,” offered Ash.

  “Yes,” replied Yuka. Before Flynn could continue her objections, he added, “To boar.”

  “How did you know the gash was from a boar?” asked Flynn, unable to hide her shock. She knew she hadn’t told Ash how she had been wounded.

  “Many times,” he replied, and showed Flynn a rippled scar near his left knee. He held his hand over the poultice and mumbled something under his breath. He turned and selected a sharp thin bone needle from a leather pouch and threaded it with a length of flax fiber.

  “What’s that for,” asked Flynn, with growing panic.

  “Sew,” replied Yuka.

  “Oh, no. No sew, no sew,” Flynn squirmed backward and felt Ash’s strong hands grasp her shoulders and hold her firm. Flynn’s breath came in short loud gasps and she covered her wound with both hands. She could feel her heart beating faster and faster as fear tingled through her arms and legs.

  Yuka moved closer and bent down to remove Flynn’s hands from the gaping wound.

  Flynn closed her eyes and would have given anything to feel the healing power of Mistress Nokomis painlessly knitting her skin back together with magick.

  Ash hunkered down behind Flynn and leaned close, “He’s very skilled Flynn, if you relax it will go much faster. You can squeeze my hand as hard as you want, I can take it.” Ash offered her hand.

  Yuka reached down and pried Flynn’s shaking hands from her leg. “By the Goddess!” he exclaimed.

  Shocked to hear an entire sentence from the old healer’s lips, Flynn cracked open her eye, saw the needle hovering above her leg, and choked back a scream before she fainted.

  Ash crouched over Flynn and wiped her forehead with a cool cloth.

  Flynn blinked her eyes and looked around, “What happened? Where—”

  Yuka’s storied brown face leaned into view and in a calm matter-of-fact tone he said, “Healer,” and walked out of his own tent.

  She slowly sat up with Ash’s help and took a long drink of cool water. Flynn looked down at her leg, expecting the worst. There was no bandage, no “sew,” and no wound of any kind. “I thought you said the Kowao have no magick. How did Yuka do this?”

  “You did this,” said Ash, with an astonished grin. “And now that you are fully recovered it is time to go and see the elders.” Ash helped Flynn to her feet and led her through the spattering rain.

  The elders gathered in a semi-circle under an overhanging rock and a fire crackled in the center of their group.

  Ash motioned for Flynn to step closer to the fire. “This is Flynn Hawthorn of Moa Bend.”

  Flynn’s mind raced with questions, doubts, and wonder. She wasn’t sure about protocol in the wild, but she remembered what Pounamu had said to her at their parting. “May the Goddess smile on your waterskins,” she said.

  The elders nodded and a time-wizened white-haired man on one end of the half-circle spoke first. “Greetings, Flynn. I am Bartin.”

  Flynn nodded.

  Each elder gave a similar welcome and by the end, Flynn struggled to remember all the strange names—monikers like Xinju, Naoki, Zorana, Todor, Yuka, Shalish, Teruko, and Izumi.

  “Thank you for sharing your fire with me,” she said.

  “You are welcome with the Kowao, once-Watcher. Your magick will be a blessing,” Shalish replied. Her thick black braid lay in a coil next to her right hip and partially covered the intricate tattoo on her shoulder and arm.

  Flynn looked at Ash.

  Ash nodded. “Honored elders, Flynn is only a guest. She does not wish to join the tribe. She is on a…” her voice trailed off and she looked to Flynn for the rest of the explanation.

  “I’m on my Seeking. I must go to the Cliffs of Tapu and receive a message from Dunedin before I can return to my people and resume my training.” Flynn wasn’t sure why she mentioned Dunedin; somehow she felt the Kowao would respect a quest.

  Xinju stood and raked her hand through her close-cropped blond hair. “Are you the daughter of Kahu, the High Priestess of all Aotearoa?” The woman shifted her weight back and forth from one foot to the other like a beast about to pounce. Her legs were thick and muscular and the firelight looked at home in her eyes.

  She stared at Xinju and hesitated; the woman seemed unhinged. Flynn was one girl in the middle of a wild tribe living off their wits; lies wouldn’t win her any friends. “I am.”

  Xinju leapt over the fire and landed in front of Flynn. She dropped to one knee and held her fist to her forehead. “I am yours to command.”

  Somehow Flynn had managed to hold her ground, but this oath of allegiance threw her off balance. “I don’t…” she stuttered and looked at Ash.

  Ash gave a series of hand signals.

  Xinju turned and addressed the other elders in a language Flynn couldn’t understand.

  Heads nodded and Todor slapped Yuka firmly on his broad bare back.

  Ash turned to Flynn. “Even the Kowao know of the prophecy of she who will restore the balance. Xinju reminded us of another Kowao legend of the daughter of Dunedin healing the children.”

  Flynn felt overwhelmed and terribly inadequate. “I’m not the daughter of Dunedin. My mother only received his blessing, and my father came from beyond the mist, a seafarer.” Why am I telling these people all my secrets?

  “I saw your mother invited onto his back, allowed to ride the Keeper of the Moon. You are his child, that is the way of him,” Xinju said.

  Flynn couldn’t decide which piece of information sounded more preposterous—that Xinju had witnessed her mother’s plea to Dunedin, or that the great winged beast could somehow be her father. She shook her head and remained silent.

  Short plump Izumi tugged her grey and black braid while she spoke, “It does not mean what you think, youngling. It means that his magick runs through your veins.”

  “I’m only beginning to understand how to access my magick, but I can tell you all, I’m no healer. That is the realm of Mistress Nokomis.”

  A small hand slipped into Flynn’s fidgeting fingers and a clear sweet voice said, “Safe.”

  A collective gasp rose from the gathered elders and every drop of suntanned color drained from Ash’s face. She turned and stared at Flynn before dropping to one knee and pressing her fist to her forehead as tears flowed over the toughened planes of her face.

  Flynn stood speechless.

  “Kano?” Ash whispered.

  The wildling ran to her mother and buried her face in the thick ropes of hair while she whispered, “Safe.”

  A silver-haired woman with hard lines on her cheeks and strong shoulders stood across from Flynn. “You must go to the Cliffs of Tapu at first light. You cannot delay your journey in the camp of the Kowao. You are the balance the world seeks. You are the key.” N
aoki dropped to one knee and put her fist to her broad flat forehead.

  The other elders followed suit and Yuka murmured his longest oration of the day, “And so it will be.”

  “And so it will be,” Flynn responded reflexively.

  Flynn’s dreams were haunted by images of Magdelana destroying The Book of Light and Hazel lying dead on the ground in Dreamwood Forest. She woke before the moon had set, sweating and agitated. She sipped water from her waterskin and stared to the east hoping to see the rise of the star, Rua, before the dawn—anything to take her mind from her dreams.

  While she waited she slipped her hand in her pocket and rubbed the outline of her father’s key through the cloth pouch. Everyone kept mentioning “the key” and Flynn wondered if this golden token in her pocket could be “the key?” Today her curiosity overwhelmed her and she pushed her fingers into the pouch. The chain felt warm to her touch and she twined it around her finger as she pulled the key and chain from her pocket.

  A tense expectation tightened her belly and slowed her breathing.

  The key had no message to give.

  The disappointment felt familiar. Flynn pushed the chain over her head and let the key settle on her skin as her gaze returned to the slowly lightening eastern sky.

  She found a reward in her vigilance and the bright star blinked into view above the horizon as the thick grey streaks of morning flowed across the sky. Flynn could almost smell the First Harvest celebration back in Moa Bend. She longed for news from home, but had been unable to astral travel since her visit to Hazel in the enchanted wood.

  Ash stirred and saw Flynn gazing toward the east. “Thinking of home?”

  Flynn nodded and shifted to a cross-legged position.

  “I had the same feelings in the beginning, but now I never think of it. I’m grateful for the Kowao and the life I have with Kano,” Ash said. She quietly slipped away from Kano and sat beside Flynn. “Thank you for healing her.”

  “I didn’t, I mean I don’t—I can’t explain what happened, Ash.” Flynn shifted her weight and glanced back at Kano, peacefully sleeping.

  “What did she tell you?” whispered Ash, soft and kind.