by TL Rese
“Kevin, you should sleep on this flight,” Audrey’s voice called back to me. We were gliding right beneath the stars, the scent of Moreina still lingering around us. On either side, Ly’s wings stretched pale over the clouds.
“But I’ve just slept all day.”
“This is going to be a long flight.”
“What about you?”
She laughed, the wind sweeping her laugh into the stars. “Don’t worry. I don’t need you to drive.”
“Very funny. But I’ll stay awake. I’m not tired.” Beneath me, Ly’s skin was smooth and cool compared to the harsh leather of the horned hine. We flew on, the night brushing against us. A drowsiness began to press in on the corners of the sky. A fresh heaviness filled my limbs.
I felt myself waking to a rosy dawn. Through blinking eyes, I glimpsed the first pink lights, and heard the morning birds through a muffled yawn. I realized with a start I’d been sleeping against Audrey’s shoulder, my cheek smushed on her, almost drooling on her Moreinen clothes.
I lifted my head with a jerk. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
The spiced Moreinen wind had faded into a clear air. A breeze blew around the clouds through a clean pale sky. I ventured a luxurious stretch as we turned through the dawn, my hands reaching into golden shafts of new light.
“Morning,” Audrey’s voice rang.
“How long have I been asleep?” I clutched at the mess of my hair tangled from the wind, another yawn threatening at the corners of my jaw.
“Kevin, look at the sky. You’ve slept through the whole night. That coca tea must have done its trick on you.”
We soared through a flock of birds, their pale feathers filling the sky around us. The last of them flew past, disappearing into the glow of dawn. Over the horizon, a few stars still lingered in the remaining night.
“You woke up just in time,” Audrey said.
“We’re there? At Hallia?”
“Not yet, but we’re in Alhallra. We’ll make a rest stop at the Philosopher’s Corner, so Ly doesn’t get exhausted.”
We descended through a blanket of clouds and a land of green earth opened below. A forest of yellow-green leaves faded into a swath of morning mist. Beside the trees was a great field of sunflowers, the flowers’ faces tilted towards the sunrise.
We flew low over the sunflowers, swaying their orange heads with the breeze from Ly’s wings. We landed on a small path of grass running between the sunflowers and the forest.
I jumped down over Ly’s wing, but stumbled and fell into a heap.
My face flushed as Audrey burst into laughter. “Don’t you play sports? Aren’t athletes supposed to have fast reflexes?”
“Hey, I’m a swimmer, not a flyer.” I dusted myself off, hurrying after her into the forest.
In the daylight past the trees’ shade, I could see Ly opening her wings and flying away. We continued deeper into the forest until we were completely swallowed by the shadows of the foliage. The orange sunflowers had disappeared entirely behind a thick tangle of trees. The only light squeezed through clusters of dense leaves overhead, illuminating the dark in thin showers of sunlight.
“Where are we?”
“We’re in a part of the Vallian Forest called the Philosopher’s Corner. Many philosophers live here because of the Stars of the Crescent.”
“The what?”
“The Stars of the Crescent. It’s a constellation in the shape of a crescent moon. The Crescent’s our symbol of knowledge, so the philosophers hope it’ll inspire them if they live right beneath it. We’re going to stay with Jesath. You’ll like him. He’ll be fascinated to see you.”
“Sure.” An uneasiness pricked my stomach. I could picture myself being gawked over and stared at again.
As we walked, the trees became stranger and stranger, twisting into the oddest shapes, their trunks swelling, bulging with fat bulbous knobs. We stopped at an enormous tree, its large roots protruding from the ground. The trunk folded in on itself in haphazard layers, and we stood right in front of a great folded cleft.
“Jesath?” Audrey knocked on the tree bark. “Open up. I know you’re in there. I can hear you shuffling.”
“No! No one’s here! Go away!” A muffled voice sounded from inside the tree.
“Come, you can’t take me for such a fool.” Audrey knocked again. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?”
There was a sudden scraping like a giant grinding of teeth. I heard pattering, followed by silence. I was dumbfounded. Despite the sounds, nothing seemed to have happened. Then I glanced down. And gave a tremendous start.
A tiny old man was looking up at me through huge glasses. The glasses enlarged his eyes past the edge of his face. He was no taller than my knee and completely draped in a red shirt that trailed behind him, hanging far over his hands. His shirt reminded me of pajamas. He had a grey beard and a length of hair that flowed over him from underneath a little hat that sat on his head like an inverted red cup. At the sight of each other, we both leapt back with a cry.
“Oh my goodness,” Jesath said slowly, when he recovered. He peered at me with his enormous eyes, a white glare sliding over his glasses. “One’s come over!” He turned to Audrey and gave another start, leaping a foot into the air. “Ryloha!” he cried.
“Who did you think I was?”
She picked him up and embraced him as if he were a teddy bear. When he was back on the ground, he replied, “Certainly not you! I would never have expected you here all of a sudden.”
“Yes, there was some trouble and I had to go by way of a Moreinen gate. Thought I’d stop here before returning to Hallia.”
“So who’s the surprise? You or him?” He gestured to me with a thumb protruding from beneath his red shirtsleeve.
“Both of us.” Audrey tilted her head to me with a wink of her silver eyes.
“Come in! Come in! You must tell me.” With that, he hopped in quick little steps towards the cleft in the bark, his red shirt trailing. “My goodness, Ryloha. Your English has become so good!”
I had to bend over to avoid hitting my head as we made our way through a short tunnel in the tree. At the end, past a round doorway, there was a warm glow, with cushions and blankets lying in the light.
We stepped into the room, the ceiling arching just high enough so I could stand. The whole room was circular, furnished with an assortment of pillows, plump and colorful, some sewn with images of a crescent moon. Quilted pictures of trees and flowers hung askew on the curving walls. At one end, a wooden ledge stuck out from the wall like a table, topped with gadgets and handkerchiefs. Cushioned stools sprinkled the space between the pillows on the floor. A staircase curved around the bend, ascending into the tree.
“Ah, Jesath, you’ve changed nothing,” Audrey remarked.
Jesath was at the entrance, hanging upside down from the ceiling, tugging at a rope attached to a round slab of wood. He looked over his shoulder. “Oh yes! The place is always perfectly decorated. Please! Please! Make yourselves comfortable.” The knotted rope gave way and the round wood flipped into its place over the entrance like a door. Jesath tumbled to the ground.
“There,” he said, getting up and patting himself down. “I really should get something for that door. Maybe a hiddlebegibit will make it flip more easily.” He hummed to himself as he hopped to the ledge of gadgets and began fiddling with the instruments.
We stood aimlessly before Audrey gave a soft cough. Jesath started up from beneath a pile of gadgets, “Oh yes! Nearly forgot!” He darted like a bee from the ledge, fluttering around fluffing the pillows. I had to shield myself from a barrage of cushions that Jesath threw our way. I found myself nearly buried.
“Jesath, that’s enough! We have enough pillows,” Audrey laughed.
The shower of cushions stopped. Jesath peered at us through his magnified glasses. “Oh yes, I haven’t had guests in a while. Never know how many pillows to give ‘em.”
“These are fine, Jesath,” Audrey said, a
s she seated herself on a pile of cushions.
Jesath was whizzing around again, like an insect, dashing in streaks of his red pajamas. “Anything to drink, m’littles? Anything to drink? Some fairies’ blood?”
“Oh no, Jesath. It’s far too early to be so giddy.”
“Fairies’ blood?” I asked.
“Oh! M’boy! You’ll love it! Best drink in all the worlds! Let me pour you a cup!” He zipped to a cupboard in the wall.
“Jesath,” Audrey interrupted, “actually, I was thinking about taking Kevin to the Philosopher’s Market. We could also get something there for dinner tonight.”
He had the cupboard half-opened, and to my dismay, he closed it. His magnified eyes peeped at us from his little face. “Right! Maybe a hen or two. And some pies! The children will love it.”
“And Kevin could do with a translator. I know you could manage one, Jesath.”
“Oh yes! M’boy! How I would love to show you my bobbits!” He dashed to the table ledge in a streak of red. At an inclination of Audrey’s head, I moved to stand next to him.
I recoiled as the table sprang open, spraying its contents everywhere. Gadgets flew past my head as I ducked. Screws hit my face before my head was draped over by a handkerchief. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Audrey was grinning. With a sigh, I pulled the handkerchief off.
“Sorry ‘bout that, m’boy.” Jesath had his back turned, rummaging through a heap of gadgets. “I always forget to warn people,” he mumbled.
The table had opened into a shelf with devices of every conceivable shape and size. Some sparkled with vibrant colors like gems, others looked dull; some were simple, while others were dizzyingly convoluted.
Jesath stood on a stool, his little hands fiddling over gadgets that looked bigger than he could carry. He jingled a small something here, poked at a bit of metal there, polished a screw or two with a handkerchief, humming and muttering the whole time.
Curious, I picked up a plain wooden box on the shelf.
“Oh no! Put that down!” With a force I would not have guessed possible, he jerked the box from my grasp. “That was exactly what happened! I was so careless. This exact box! Ooohhh! Always too eager to show my bobbits!” He shook his head reprovingly as he replaced the box back on the shelf.
“It’s alright, Jesath. You can show Kevin. And don’t be so hard on yourself. No one blames you.”
“Sorry,” I said.
“Oh no.” His beard and hair drooped almost comically. “It’s not you. It’s just a whole war was lost because I couldn’t keep track of my bobbits.” With a flick of his wrist, the lid flipped open. Lining the inside of the box was an assortment of gold and silver rings. I realized they were gate keys.
“You made all these?” I traced the engraving on one, wondering which world it led to.
“Oh yes,” he said, an excitement bubbling in him. He shook himself, his grey beard and hair trembling in swirls around his head. His face stiffened before it broke into a grin, and he hummed a few notes merrily to himself. “Look at them, m’boy! Aren’t they a marvel!” He picked up the box of keys and thrust it back in my arms, leaning over my elbow to gape at the keys with his enormous glasses. “Oh, that was a… mmm…” he groped for a translation, “that was a… a precise key. That one that you were touching. Read its engraving and it tells you which gate it opens! That one goes to the gate right outside. To Berkeley, where I believe you’re from, m’boy.”
“How did you know?” I stuttered.
“That was where Ryloha was.” He winked at me. “Educated guess.” My gaze strayed back to the silver ring and he guessed at my thoughts. “Want to go home, m’boy?” he asked.
“We could send you back right now,” Audrey joked from the cushions.
“Not yet,” I said. “I’d definitely like to stay awhile longer.”
“And well you should! Lots for you to see. We’ve never had a visitor from another world before. Oh! Watch your thumb there! You nearly made it fall out!” He adjusted my thumb so it was far away from any of the keys, righting a key that my wayward thumb had apparently jarred. “This one is a… oohh… common key! That’s it! Can open any public gate!” He patted the smooth golden ring with his finger. “Gold for any gate in Moreina, and silver for any gate in Alhallra,” he said, and tucked the key farther down into its place. “This here is a universal key. A master key that can open any gate in the lands.” He held up a silver ring made of a helix pattern. “Only for certain authorized people.” He smiled, and I guessed that he was one of them. For a moment, he seemed far away, beaming merrily. There was a coughing from the cushions where Audrey sat. Jesath snapped to attention, “Oh! But, m’boy! We should get you a translator!”
I took a last look at the silver Berkeley key; strange that Berkeley was so close, and yet so far. I snapped the box lid shut and put it back on the shelf.
“Yes, yes. Should be only a matter of readjusting the bits.” Jesath continued muttering to himself, shuffling through the gadgets. “Ah yes, quite a good one we have here for you.” He pulled a tiny loop of metal from a pile of contraptions and held it to my earlobe. “Oh! It’s nice! It is!” He used a thin rod to probe at the metal loop; with his back turned to me, the end of the rod protruded over his shoulder, quivering like a car antenna. “Just have to fiddle with it,” he mumbled through his constant humming.
With a speed I didn’t anticipate, he lunged at me. A prick of pain seared through my earlobe and I stumbled back, clutching my ear.
“Ow!” I grabbed at the pain.
“Oh! Don’t worry! The pain will go away soon.” He hopped towards me on the floor, hovering around my knee.
I touched my ear tenderly. The metal had been inserted into my earlobe and curved below the bottom of my ear. “I have an earring.”
“That’s a translator, m’boy,” he said. “That one’s normally used when we go into your world, but a simple matter of reversal will make it work here for you.”
I poked at it. “My parents are going to kill me.” Audrey was covering her mouth with suppressed laughter. I shot her an angry look. “Do I really need a translator?”
“Of course! We can’t have you frolicking all over Alhallra not understanding a word. How would you get by? Why, you would be as lost as – as…”
“As I would be in another country back home.”
“Ah, yes. I never understood how your kind gets by without translators. Makes life much easier.”
“Tell him how to use it,” Audrey said.
“Very simple. You just have to wear it! Fiddle around with it, if you want. Could give you different volume and clarity depending on where you are. But you’ll only hear the translation through that ear – unless I give you one on your other ear.” Before he could fully reach for another translator, I caught him by his long red sleeve.
“No, that’s fine. I’m good.”
“Are you sure, m’boy? Might be confounding hearing Alhallran in one ear and English in the other!”
“I’m sure I’ll manage,” I said.
“Ah, boy! It is amazing that you are here! The light bends around you so differently! As though you were still in your own world. None of the Alhallren fairness about you at all. None at all!” As he spoke, he slid a spherical glass from the shelves and began studying me through it, as if through a microscope.
“Jesath, thank you so much.” I felt relieved as Audrey came to rescue me from becoming a guinea pig. “We should be off to the market.”
The glass sphere blew up like a balloon in Jesath’s hands. His face was magnified enormously as he examined me. His gigantic eyes blinked several times before Audrey cleared her throat loudly. The sphere deflated with a whizzing noise to the size of a golf ball, and Jesath slipped it into a pocket in his red pajamas. “Oh yes! To the market! Here’s some money. No need to pay me back, m’dear! Your father’s paid me well enough.” He scrambled around and dropped a small bag onto Audrey’s palm. “Ryloha, you know the way!”
“You don’t want to come?”
“I have work here!”
“How did I know you would say that?”
“Take the eira!” Jesath said. “Don’t trouble your hine in the woods.” He tossed several items over his shoulder at Audrey. She caught them as they flew over: two reeds, along with ropes. “You did ride your hine here?” Jesath raised a grey eyebrow crookedly over one of his large lenses.
“Yes, Ly is as fine as ever.”
Before she had finished her reply, he had flittered to the circular door and flipped it back up to the ceiling. “Thought you’d pick up Ly if you were in Moreina,” he said.
I went with Audrey out the round doorway, ducking into the tunnel. As we left, he called behind us, “Yes! Yes, have fun at the market, m’littles! I would come, but I have work!” He patted his pocket where he’d slipped the glass sphere. I wondered if he’d taken measurements of me already. But before I could contemplate the issue further, we emerged from the folds of the tree into the forest beyond.
Chapter 26