The Dead Wind

by Dennis Monaghan

  “I would be honored to speak at such an occasion,” Bartok said. “That is, if you wish.”

  “We were hoping you would, Captain. After your dedication, we will have a large display of fireworks to officially end the festival.”

  The three rose from their seats and walked from the garden, with Bartok saying how perfect this festival would be and how much the City needed such a celebration to allay the devastation of the Dead Wind. “After such a festival,” he said, “we can start to rebuild with good conscience. Thank you for your efforts to this end. Please leave Nance the details of what is needed and feel free to bring me any problems that arise.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Cara said. “We will talk soon.”

  Woodside Mill

  Grandfather Lute looked up from his work as the three young scouts burst into the mill’s large workspace.

  “Grandfather,” Bell cried, “we found the Grotto!” She and the twins ran to the workbench.

  “The Grotto is really there?” Grandfather asked. He put Big Red's sword aside and turned his full attention to Bell and the twins.

  “We are sure it’s the Grotto,” she said. “There is a huge, square rock and a miniature model of Woodside Mill and one of the stick figures even looks like you! And Book and Page can see the One Wave.”

  Book broke in. “It’s more than just seeing the One Wave,” he said. “It’s as if we have new eyes! Even after we left the Grotto, we could see.”

  Page jumped in then. “We think everyone will be able to see the One Wave once they have been in this Grotto.”

  Grandfather Lute held up his hands. “By the Winking God, slow down! Slow down. Let's gather everyone then. We will put together a picnic lunch and we will all go up to the Grotto.”

  Bell and the boys raced to the bunkhouse to give their great news to the others.

  With a picnic lunch in their travel bags and the whole crew from the mill behind them, the three young scouts led the way to the edge of the small meadow. Bell had been afraid that the waterfalls and the Grotto would have disappeared, but the water still made tinkling music in the air and left sparkling drops on the cliff face.

  Grandfather Lute came up from behind, puffing a little but handling the climb fairly easily. He scanned the meadow and cliff. “I can't really remember what the Grotto looked like when I was a child, but I do remember this incredibly buoyant energy.”

  He took in a great breath and exhaled joyfully. “Just approaching the Grotto, I can already feel the vibration!”

  Big Red came up next to Grandfather Lute. “I have never felt anything so deeply peaceful.” She, too, inhaled the buoyant air. “This energy must be what my friend Jana was talking about: the Way of the Tanan, the One Wave.”

  “I would like to know more about the Way of the Tanan,” Grandfather Lute said. “We were discouraged from talking about the Way of the Tanan when I was a child. But I believe there are some stories and poems that tell about the One Wave.”

  “That may be so,” agreed Big Red, “but you'll not hear them from me. I hope you meet Jana. She would be happy to tell you what little she knows.”

  Grandfather Lute said to Bell, “Take us to the Grotto.” He smiled. “Though I bet from here we could find it on our own. The vibration is pulling us.”

  Page had led Mark, Matt, Harp and Shell into the Grotto. Bell and Book brought Grandfather Lute and Big Red through the boulders. Grandfather stopped after taking a few steps into the Grotto, looked around with a sweet smile.

  Big Red looked at him wide-eyed. “I can see waves of color surrounding you, Grandfather Lute,” she said. “Everything has a hint of color, but you are just shining.” She paused, looking around. “Oh my! Look at Bell. She is the brightest of all!”

  If she concentrated, Bell found she could see the colors as Big Red described. But for her, the strongest sense was experiencing the connectedness and oneness of things. She could see how all of them created and exchanged energy with each other and with the natural elements around them. The pattern of the twins’ energy was vibrant and constantly intermixed, one with the other. Big Red's energy formed a shimmering sphere around her at the same time aligning with the flow of the environment. The enormous increase in Bell’s ability to be in the One Wave thrilled her yet she found its very newness confusing. She understood just how little she actually knew.

  Bell took Grandfather Lute's hand. “Come and look at the stone.”

  “The Altar Stone,” Grandfather said. “That is what Old Wizen Tob called it.” He placed his hands atop the square stone. “Such power and life,” he said.

  Seeing the stone cottage, Grandfather Lute walked through the portal.

  “I believe I know this place,” he said, looking around. “The stone floor, redwood shelves sticking out of the stone walls, jars everywhere. I remember napping on the sleeping platform while Old Wizen Tob hummed healing melodies.” Grandfather Lute stared off in space remembering.

  The twins began shouting, “Bell!” “Grandfather Lute!” “Come look at the stone!”

  “Come on, Grandfather,” she tugged on his sleeve.

  “Huh?” he looked at her blankly and rubbed his chin. “It feels as if Master Tob is still here.”

  “Maybe he is.” Bell took her grandfather’s hand and led him back outside. “When we first found this place, we thought perhaps someone knew we were coming and prepared for us. Everything is so clean and tidy. There’s not even any dust.”

  They joined the rest of the group, standing at the stone. Amazed at the array of stick figures on the stone, Grandfather picked up the twig-and-grass figure that represented him. “Looks just like me,” he said. “Remarkable.” He turned the object in his hand then placed the figure back on the stone.

  “This is the Altar Stone,” Grandfather Lute said, patting the side of the stone. “I'm beginning to remember bits from my childhood. The old Wizen who brought me here was named Master Tob, but I don’t remember these figures.” He picked up a one that could only be Big Red.

  Bell whispered, “That wasn't here when we went through the basket before. Or at least none of them looked like Big Red then.”

  “That's right,” Page said picking up another figure. “And this one looks just like Shell. This morning a lot of the figures were featureless. I bet we’re all here.”

  To their astonishment, everyone found their own likeness. Much nervous laughing and teasing occurred as they exchanged the thumb-sized figures with each other. Finally they placed all of the figures back on the Altar Stone.

  “Well these figures are truly marvelous,” Grandfather Lute said, “but I have no idea what they are for.”

  “Maybe we should ask a question,” Bell said.

  “We can try,” said Grandfather Lute. “What shall we ask?”

  There was a flurry of suggestions, but with a bit of discussion. They decided to ask whether they should reveal the Grotto to the people coming to the welcome feast tomorrow.

  “How shall we ask?”

  “Everyone, take a deep breath,” Grandfather Lute said. “Clear your minds. Open to the One Wave. Take in the wonderful energy of this place.” He closed his eyes for a moment then asked in a clear voice, “Should we bring the guests at tomorrow’s feast here to the Grotto?”

  Slowly all of the figures that did not represent one of the people present slid from the stone top into the basket. Only their figures remained.

  “I would say the Grotto would like to remain hidden,” Grandfather Lute said. “So tomorrow we will not speak of this. And we better not mention the new sight we have attained.”

  Grandfather looked at each of them in turn and received a nod of agreement.

  “Well, we have a lot to do before the feast. Let's get back to work,” Grandfather Lute put his arm around Bell's shoulder. “We can take the feeling of the Grotto with us until we can visit again.”

  As they saw everything with their new sight, the trail back to the mill was even more interesting than it
had been. Big Red would stop walking to stare off in wonder at what she saw, and then, inexplicably, find herself farther down the trail. Once they got back to the mill, they spent the rest of the day preparing for the feast in productive contentment. All that was left was the cooking.

  Twelve

  Woodside Mill Grotto

  In the predawn dark, Big Red heard someone approaching the house she shared with Shell and sometimes Bell. The scout stilled her breathing and focused her hearing on the footsteps. They were Grandfather Lute’s.

  She rose, dressed, and opened the door just as he arrived.

  “Good morning, Grandfather Lute,” she whispered stepping out into the fog. “What brings you here so early?”

  “Good morning,” he said. “I had a strong feeling I should give you the sword now and that you should offer the blade to the One Wave in the Grotto at sunrise.” He led her back to the forge, where he had hot tea waiting.

  Enjoying the warmth of the forge after their chilly walk, Big Red accepted the tea but then set the cup down immediately. On the workbench the finished sword lay on a wool blanket. To the scout’s eyes the blade shimmered with color. “How beautiful,” she said, walking over to the sword.

  Grandfather Lute picked it up by the walnut burl hilt and sheathed the blade in a scabbard made of the same highly figured wood. The ends of the scabbard were banded in Damascus steel, worked in a vine pattern, matching the sword’s butt cape and oval blade guard. Grandfather rolled the sword in the blanket and tied the package fast with twine. He held out the wrapped sword to Big Red, instructing her, “Do not draw the blade until you are at the Altar Stone at sunrise.”

  Big Red took the wrapped blade and bowed to Grandfather Lute. “You do me the greatest honor.”

  Big Red abandoned her tea, left the forge and crossed the stream. By the time she climbed the rock fall, the early morning fog had dissipated and a faint glow hinted of the coming dawn. When she got to the Grotto, she didn’t hesitate. She moved to the west side of the Altar Stone and faced east to the rising sun. With her back to the pool, she listened to the tinkle of the falls filling the air.

  Opening to the One Wave, Big Red pulled off the cloth and placed the sword on the Altar Stone. The first rays of the sun struck the Grotto as Big Red drew the sword and held the blade aloft. The sunlight caught the chisel point of the blade causing a shimmer of color.

  Big Red took a breath and placed her hand on the Altar Stone. Words came from within: “By the One Wave, through the One Wave, for the One Wave I give myself.”

  Big Red shimmered in union with the One Wave; she caught a glimpse of endless possibility, the vastness of the power. She felt in her heart there was a reason for the sword, the new sight, the Grotto and all the wonderful people that she had come to love as family in so short a time. Her heart was filled with gratitude for all that had happened to her.

  Big Red stilled her mind and focused on the vibrations of the environment. On the edge of her awareness she felt a taint infecting the One Wave. Suddenly, she was filled with a sense of doom. Big Red took strength from the sword and shook away the dread. For a moment, over the Altar Stone she thought she saw a tall old man clad in white, with nut-brown skin, wave his arm in beckoning but the image faded and was gone.

  She studied the blade more closely. A wavy line between the softer steel and the hard edge steel reminded her of the windswept beach near Fisher Bay. The leaf and vine of the guard and butt cap were finely etched. She sheathed the sword and strapped the blade down her back.

  Big Red placed her hands on the Altar Stone. She cast her awareness to the City. The One Wave shimmered with a vision of herself on Ridge Road riding toward the City. The vision flickered and she saw herself searching an abandoned camp at Wind Point Plateau. Instinctively, she knew this was where the Dead Wind had caught the City Troop. A flash of swordplay darted across her vision, too fast to read. And was that the nut-brown man again, hovering above? The moment was gone, and she was back at the Altar Stone.

  Feeling a little dizzy, she sat near the pool on the moss-covered rocks and soaked up the wonderful energy of the Grotto. She did not know when she would be back to visit this marvelous place.

  Woodside Mill

  Bell ended up being the on-site organizer for the feast. With Grandfather Lute always getting distracted and the older ones cooking and building, the task of arranging for this all-important feast fell to her.

  The twins helped her. They treated the feast preparations as one of their scout adventures.

  “The First Scout needs these vegetables over at the chopping table, Scout Page,” said Lead Scout Bell, trying to hand the twin a basket.

  “The First Scout isn't at the chopping table,” observed Page.

  “I think Big Red should be the First Scout,” Book put in, “not Grandfather Lute.”

  “Well, she's not at the chopping table either,” said Page.

  “You know what I mean,” Bell protested, shoving the basket into his arms. “Take the veggies to the chopping table, please!”

  Page dashed off with the basket.

  “No, really,” continued Book, “Big Red really is actually a scout so she should be First Scout.”

  “Grandfather was a scout so he is the First Scout of Woodside Mill; Big Red is going to be leaving for the City in the morning.” Bell suddenly felt sad; she was losing her friend.

  Book was having similar feelings. Big Red had taught the three of them a great deal about wielding the staff as well as how to track and move silently in the woods. They would all would miss Big Red’s easeful presence and gentle encouragement.

  “Where is Big Red?” Book asked.

  “I haven't seen her,” Bell said. “She was gone when I woke this morning. Let's go ask Grandfather.”

  “We will have to keep an eye out for Noster the Evil Wizen, and his villains,” Book cautioned.

  “He is sure to send spies to the First Scout's feast,” Page agreed.

  The three young scouts headed to the forge, where they felt they were sure to find Grandfather Lute, moving by stealth and by dash to avoid arousing the Evil Wizen. They found Grandfather Lute was putting the finishing touches on a knife, an exact companion to Big Red's sword.

  Grandfather Lute placed the knife on the bench, saying, “Welcome, my young scouts. How goes the feast?”

  Bell and the twins were too entranced by the knife on the bench to answer. The hilt and scabbard were the same walnut burl as the sword; in fact they looked identical to the big blade and scabbard.

  “A little surprise for Big Red,” Grandfather Lute said with a smile.

  “Oh, how beautiful!” Bell said. “Somehow, the blade is shimmering with Big Red's energy.”

  Grandfather Lute said, “Now they are a matched set, Big Red, her blades and the One Wave.”

  “Big Red is in the Grotto!” Bell guessed and then corrected herself: “… in the place we can't mention so Noster the Evil Wizen won't find out!”

  “Noster the Evil Wizen?” Grandfather Lute said, startled. “Why does that make me feel afraid? Yes, Bell, Big Red went up before sunrise. She’ll be back soon.”

  Grandfather Lute studied the three scouts for a moment and then glanced around the forge as if making sure there were no unwanted listeners. He leaned toward them and, speaking softly, said, “We must make sure that the Evil Wizen does not find out about you-know-what. His spies might be disguised as anyone, even the sisters.”

  “The sisters?” The young ones nodded, but their mouths were agape at hearing the sisters mentioned as possible spies. This story had the makings of great intrigue.

  “Yes,” Grandfather Lute affirmed, “the sisters. They might try to get me alone and charm the location out of me. Your job is to keep watch and, if it looks like I am in trouble, to step in and create a diversion.”

  “Yes, sir, First Scout!” responded Book and Page, saluting furiously with alternating hands.

  Bell tried to picture how this would happen. “
How close shall we stay to you?”

  “Oh, not too close; just check on me now and then to see if everything is in order. I will pull on my ear like this if I need you.” He tugged on his earlobe several times. “Got it?” he asked.

  They tugged their ears.

  Big Red came through the screen side door to the forge, the hilt of her new sword visible over her shoulder, the blade hung on her back. She stopped inside the door and tugged her ear several times.

  “How do you know the signal, Big Red? You were outside,” asked Page.

  “Good scouts know all things that go on around them,” Big Red said with a smile. “Can you tell me how I know the signal?”

  The three looked around. “The window, you saw us through the window!” Bell said.

  “Yes, as simple as that.” Big Red offered. “But what the signal means, I have no idea!”

  “Rush in and save the First Scout,” said Book.

  “From the spies of the Evil Wizen,” continued Page.

  “The sisters must not get Grandfather alone,” finished Bell.

  Big Red burst out with a big laugh and slapped Grandfather Lute on the back. “You sly fox!” she said, “That’s a plan worthy of the First Scout.”

  Grandfather Lute chuckled. “I had to have a plan. I knew I couldn't depend on you!”

  Big Red laughed again.

  “What are you talking about?” Bell asked, not quite following. “What's funny?”

  Grandfather Lute shook his head and Big Red said, “Nothing that concerns scouts on a mission. Now that I am in on the plan to save the First Scout from terrible harm, I will help watch.”

  Grandfather Lute picked up the knife from the bench and presented the blade to Big Red. “I was going to surprise you when you left tomorrow. When the knife took on your energy at dawn, the same time the sword must have aligned, I realized it was part of the set. You may need it to help me fend off the sisters.”

  Big Red took the knife and inspected its flawless craft.

  “Your generosity is boundless. Thank you, Grandfather Lute.” She bowed to him in the scout fashion.