Looking at her own reflection in the crystal pool, Bell saw that a young woman's face replaced that of the familiar child. She knew that somehow, within her, the golden white light held balance against the deep red slime that sought to devour her and her world. Other than the soft amber glow that she gave off, she had no awareness of anything else being different. If an inner battle was being fought, it was beyond her perception.
She swirled her finger in the water and watched her reflection waver. She didn't seem to be able to leave this Grotto—at least she couldn’t walk out of it—but what could she do? What would a scout do?
Movement caught the corner of Bell’s eye. A tall man, old and nut brown, stood in the center of the Altar Stone. He wore a white tunic, like a symbol of peace, and he smiled at her with love and humor. The man raised long elegant fingers to show Bell a small twine figure that stood on his palm. The man’s right arm came up then, hand open in greeting.
Bell got to her feet, and took a step toward him, but as she did, she saw that a gold-white light played around him. He wasn’t truly there, Bell could see. He was just an image, but the image was looking right at her.
Her memory flashed to Noster, the fierce and red-eyed old man who had fought her so recently, but the smiling face of the man before her pushed the frightening image away. Bell’s attention moved from his face to the delicate twig figure that rested on his palm.
The grass figure was an exact replica of the man himself. The thumb-sized grass man stood in the same posture: left hand held out, palm up. Bell could see that this figure was fashioned in the same way as the grass and twig people that had arranged themselves on the Altar Stone. She and the twins—it felt like years since Bell had seen the twins—had been shocked when they first saw the stick cow stood up.
Bell was just about to ask for an explanation, when the old man spoke: “Hermit Tok, his bag of sticks, sees Anaso's silly tricks.” With this, he faded away into nothingness.
Was this a Tanan rhyme? But what did it mean? And who was this man who smiled and spoke in riddles? Bell’s thoughts ricocheted off each other, and, without even realizing what she was doing, she dished up a generous helping of porridge.
“And who made you?” she asked the contents of the pot. She knew that the energy of the Grotto could light the fire in the hearth and set candles to burning, so maybe the Grotto could cook breakfast as well. As Bell ate, she ran her encounter with this smiling old man through her mind. Who was the Hermit Tok? Was he the old man? Hermit Tok's bag of sticks must have something to do with the grass and stick figures.
After Bell finished her meal, she tended to the dishes. The cooking might happen magically, but she could take care of the cleaning herself! Once the room was tidy, she began looking for the simple but distinctly patterned woven basket that contained the stick figures they had used on the Altar Stone. In no time at all, she had gone through everything within sight—and found no basket of figures.
In frustration, Bell threw a pillow against the wall by the hearth. The pillow came to rest on the thick, tightly woven, grass sleeping mat covered with inviting quilts. She sank into the warmth, pulling a blanket over her and fighting the temptation to cry. After a moment she rolled onto her back and looked up at the raw slate ceiling. Suspended by twine from two wooden pegs in the cliff face was a cluster of white, gold, amber, and black sticks and grasses. Puzzled, she stared at this bundle of colored grasses. These were the grasses in the basket! The basket just hadn’t been made!
Bell stood on one of the wooden kitchen chairs to reach the bundle of sticks and grasses, and then spread them out on the table. This was the basket—unmade. She could see the finished basket in her mind. All the parts were here.
Bell slipped off the twine and began putting together the basket.
City: Old Gov
His clothing ripped and his cape gone, Speaker Bartok stumbled to the back steps of the Old Gov Inn. He sank down onto the bottom steps and waited for his strength to return. His hands shook, and his head pounded. Finally, he crawled up the steps—all the way to his rooms on the third floor.
Bartok staggered into the suite and collapsed across his bed, moaning. There was no Crim mushroom tea left in the City. He had a vague memory of breaking into a Bottom café and ransacking the selves and cupboards. No tea! Where was Bast? Where was the next shipment? His skin was sticky with sweat; his face burned; his body shook in spasm. “Tea!” he said hoarsely, “I need tea!” He lurched to the side of the bed and retched.
Woodside Mill
From bed Jana looked out the window. At first there was nothing to see but a dense fog. Then a hint of dawn began silver the mist, and the massive trunks of the redwood trees took shape. For a moment longer she watched the morning grow. Then she got to her feet and stretched.
Bell is gone! The thought crashed through her mind. Jana sat back on the bed. The melee that was yesterday came back to her, and she began to weep. When her tears were drained, Jana wiped her eyes. She took a slow deep breath—and then another. She continued the Tanan breathing until she was centered and could remember without pain.
The shimmering vision Bell had become had told Jana to go to Bottom and the Butte. It was time to put her sorrow and fear to the side and focus on the task she’d been given.
As if on cue, Big Red appeared at the door. “Let's go,” she said. “It’s two days hard ride to Bottom.”
“We’ll go as soon as we can.” Jana said, the traces of tears still in her voice. “I know how you feel about this. But we have to return to the City first.”
Big Red put her hand on Jana’s shoulder. “I think yesterday was about the worst day I've had since the Dead Wind,” she said. “I’m very concerned about Bell. Do you think she is in the Butte?”
“That’s what it seems from what she said during the vision. What we know from everything that’s happened is that there is much more going on than we’d imagined.” Jana paused. “I have all kinds of questions and not many answers.”
“Well, if we’re not going to leave this minute,” Big Red said, “then we can have breakfast with everyone in the bunkhouse.”
There was the smell of coffee in the morning air. Big Red pushed open the door to a warm room, rich in aroma and life.
“Finally decided to get up?” called Harp from the kitchen.
Jana smiled. “This is lunch, I presume.” She hung her coat on a peg by the door and sat at the long table. Grandfather Lute sat in his customary place at the table’s head.
Bell was not at the table. Jana could feel her absence. They all could. That light spirit was sorely missed. Yet, at the same time, Jana could feel the strength and the love that held them together.
Harp poured her a cup of Bottom coffee, and they all ate quietly. Once the table had been cleared, Grandfather Lute asked what was on all of their minds: “Where is Bell?” He paused for a second. “Can anyone think of a way we can help her? And what is the amber light around her?”
Page tackled the last question: “The golden white light happened in the moment before the glob exploded and the black slime covered Bell.”
“Bell pulled the white light from within herself,” said Book.
“And balanced her light against the red slime,” said Page.
“The amber light is Bell's light now,” Book said.
And from Page: “It’s the balance.”
“How do you know this?” Grandfather Lute asked the twins.
“We were connected to Bell in the moment,” Book said. Page nodded.
“Did you get a sense of where she might be?” asked Big Red.
“She seemed to be in another ‘here,’” said Book.
“Another here?” mused Grandfather Lute, “but is she out of reach? Can we somehow make the Altar Stone respond, bring her back?”
No one had an answer. Then Grandfather Lute rose. “Come to the Grotto, boys. I have your swords ready. You can take them to Scout School. Everyone, come to the Grotto.” They made the
ir way to the Grotto.
Grandfather Lute handed Book and Page each a sword in the style of Big Red's and Jana's swords. The twins received these gifts of the sword master, smiled, and traded blades. Grandfather Lute took a third matching sword, Bell’s, and placed it on the Altar Stone.
The twins touched their swords to the Altar Stone, and then Big Red, Jana, Bill, and Slim followed suit. Together, they recited: “For the One Wave, by the One Wave, in the One Wave I offer myself.”
The golden white light ran up the blades and encased the twins in radiance. The third blade on the Altar Stone stood on its point and vibrated amber light. The Grotto shimmered as each person's energy radiated through their own blade and joined in harmony. They were transfixed, both gaining strength and receiving comfort in the union with the One Wave. The golden white light slowly faded, and they sat back on the moss, holding their blades on their laps.
“Bell’s sword is gone!” Grandfather Lute jumped to his feet and passed his hand over the surface of the Altar Stone, his face a study in disbelief.
Then the twins were at his side, and Book told him, “The sword went to Bell.”
“The sword is matched to her,” Page said.
“And she might need it,” Book added.
“The thought that the sword went to Bell gives me hope,” Grandfather Lute said, shaking his head as he turned to leave. “I have timely work to do in the forge,” he said. “I would like everyone to meet at the paddock at mid-morning. Book, Page, ready the Grotto ponies.”
Alternate Grotto
Feeling a vibration from the Altar Stone, Bell looked up from weaving the basket. Over the center of the Altar Stone stood a sword bathed in amber light. Bell rushed to the stone and took hold of the hilt. The sword shimmered with her own energy; Bell was one with the blade. Bell heard the twins like an echo, and she spoke the incantation with them: “For the One Wave, by the One Wave, in the One Wave I offer myself.” Bell lowered the blade and tears of isolation streamed from her eyes.
End excerpt
The Dead Wind Page 25