Below the Root

by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

  “I began, then, to question others among the Geets-kel, cautiously and without stating my true feelings, so that I would not be suspected too soon and thus, perhaps, hindered in any plan of action I might later decide upon. I discovered that, while several among the Geets-kel seemed to share my uneasiness concerning the virtue of our position, there were none who were ready to risk a change, none who saw that Nesh-om’s dream could not be protected by methods that denied the truth of that dream. It was not that they were cruel and unfeeling as much as fearful and unimaginative. For many, years of power and glory, of being set apart, had left them blind and rigid.

  “Despairing of help from my colleagues, I could not think where else to turn, and for a while I tried to forget my conviction and continue my life as before. But this I found impossible to do. I became more and more troubled in mind and body until I was almost unable to eat or sleep and my days and nights blended in a continual nightmare of guilt and shame. Lying in my nid at night, the sound of the rain became a chorus of voices chanting the words of Nesh-om’s oath. Over and over the words rang in my ears, ‘Let us now swear by our gratitude for this fair new land, that here, under this green and gentle sky, no man shall lift his hand to any other except to offer Love and Joy.’ And I knew that I could never again pretend that the hand that gives fear and mind-pain is not a hand of violence, whether the giving be by such as this—” D’ol Falla touched the triangle of metal, “—or by a drugged cup.

  “And then one night I dreamed—or I thought at first it was only a dream—that a voice spoke to me as I walked down a long hallway. I turned to see no one, nothing except the endless hallway that stretched back behind me into the far distant past. I seemed to know at once that the voice was that of D’ol Nesh-om and he spoke to me of one who would come as a Chosen. ‘This one,’ the voice of D’ol Nesh-om said, ‘by his very existence, will vindicate my dream and break the bonds of fear and pride. You will know him by his gifts of Spirit, and by the two who will accompany him and who will give to his promise, motion and direction.’

  “I awoke thinking only that I had dreamed strangely and with amazing clarity, but soon after I heard of the child Raamo—and I began to work for his choosing.”

  D’ol Falla sighed and then smiled, though her smile was weary. “But then, Raamo, when you were among us, I was not certain. Your gifts of Spirit seemed quite limited. I was unable to reach you. And I was not until recently aware of your two fellow conspirators. I am, however, quite aware of them now, and it would be more seemly of them to come forward and be greeted properly.”

  A bit sheepishly, Neric and Genaa came forward. When they had sung the greeting, they joined Raamo at the table-board as D’ol Falla continued.

  “I was still undecided when, late last night, a certain young Ol-zhaan, who often seeks to curry favor with his seniors by spying and tale bearing, came to me with a story of following you three to the forest floor and observing you in apparent communication with a Pash-shan.”

  “D’ol Salaat,” Neric sent, and Raamo nodded.

  “I saw then that I had been too cautious and that I must act quickly or it might be too late. My sending, summoning you to me in mind-touch, was involuntary, almost unconscious, for I had no reason to think that I could make you hear me. But a few minutes later, I felt quite certain that you had, and that you would respond.

  “And then you came; and your friends, who are obviously the ones predicted by my vision, have followed you. So now I am certain that my dream was a true foretelling, and that you, Raamo, are truly the one foretold.”

  “I?” Raamo said. “But I am not—I don’t see how I can be the one in your foretelling. I have done nothing. It was Neric who discovered the secret of the Geets-kel, and it was he and Genaa who made the plans. They will tell you that what I say is true.” He turned to his two companions for confirmation and found that they were staring at him strangely; and their eyes, like D’ol Falla’s, were full of hope.

  Suddenly Raamo was frightened, more frightened even than he had been when the tool of violence had pointed at his heart. He pushed away from the table-board, his hands outstretched as if to ward off danger. “I am not a leader,” he said. “I think I am not even a true Ol-zhaan. I am only a Kindar.”

  “Raamo,” it was Genaa speaking, “you do not have to be a leader. As D’ol Falla heard in her foretelling, you are a promise. You are a promise that the way of the Spirit can produce a new kind of humanity, with new and higher instincts. It is not you yourself, Raamo, but those instincts that we must follow.”

  “Yes,” D’ol Falla said. “Instincts such as the one that tells you that you are still Kindar. Think of the evil that could have been prevented if we had all known, surely and deeply, that we were all Kindar—that we have all always been Kindar together, no more and no less.”

  Raamo nodded slowly, somewhat comforted. A promise. The words repeated themselves in his mind. The words were beautiful, like a call that beckoned enticingly from a far distance. A distance that seemed suddenly to be almost visible, dim and obscure, but alive with beautiful and mysterious shapes and figures. He let the eyes of his mind turn inward, toward that far distance.

  But now Neric, whose entire face had been a jumble of excited energy since he had first entered the chamber, burst again into speech. “We thank you, D’ol Falla—we are indeed greatly thankful to you—and for you—” his words collided with each other in his excitement. “—I feel certain—I think it is inevitable now that we shall triumph—but would it not be wise now for us to speak of what it is that we will do, and where we will begin?”

  D’ol Falla laughed. “You speak truly,” she said.

  “And typically,” Genaa interrupted, smiling. “But before we plunge forward into the future, may I have one moment to offer D’ol Falla my own thankfulness for a private matter. May I thank you, D’ol Falla, for driving an evil shadow from my mind. For more than two years now this shadow has tormented me, filling my mind with dark imaginings against the Pash-shan, first, and then against the Geets-kel. But today I saw myself in your story, and I saw how easily I could have walked your path—and the shadow was lifted. For this I am more thankful than words can tell.”

  D’ol Falla touched her palm to Genaa’s cheek in a gracious gesture of acceptance. And then, sighing a little, she turned to Neric.

  “You are quite right, Neric,” she said. “It is time now for planning and action. There are many things to consider, many goals to be accomplished, and many evils to be avoided.”

  “Do you think that what we are setting out to do is really possible?” Genaa asked. “All the weight of years and numbers is against us. Do you truly think we can succeed?”

  “I think it is possible,” D’ol Falla said. “There will be many problems. For many years most of the Ol-zhaan have been chosen not for their gifts of wisdom and Spirit but for their capacity for blind loyalty to power and pride. It is not likely that such as these will easily accept a change that would threaten their glory. And it is impossible to know how the Kindar and Erdlings will react to each other. We must move slowly and carefully and take every precaution. It will not be easy. But we have, here among us, gifts that will help us greatly, and we have the Kindar who, in spite of all, are still greatly blessed by the dream of D’ol Nesh-om. I truly think that we may be able to rekindle the light of that dream in all Green-sky.”

  “And you, Raamo, do you believe that we will succeed?” Genaa asked.

  Genaa’s voice came to Raamo as if from a great distance; and turning his mind to her question, he realized that he had been far away in thought lost in a deep dream that had come upon him suddenly and with great clarity, just as had the dream that foretold the healing of Pomma.

  “What is it?” he asked. “What question did you ask me?” He smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid I was dreaming.”

  “Of what were you dreaming?” Genaa asked.

  “Of a promise,” Raamo said. “I dreamed of a promise that has always been, a
nd always will be.”

  A Biography of Zilpha Keatley Snyder

  Zilpha Keatley Snyder (b. 1927) is the three-time Newbery Honor–winning author of classic children’s novels such as The Egypt Game, The Headless Cupid, and The Witches of Worm. Her adventure and fantasy stories are beloved by many generations.

  Snyder was born in Lemoore, California, in 1927. Her father, William Keatley, worked for Shell Oil, but as a would-be rancher he and his family always lived on a small farm. Snyder’s parents were both storytellers, and their tales often kept their children entertained during quiet evenings at home.

  Snyder began reading and telling stories of her own at an early age. By the time she was four years old she was able to read novels and newspapers intended for adults. When she wasn’t reading, she was making up and embellishing stories. When she was eight, Snyder decided that she would be a writer—a profession in which embellishment and imagination were accepted and rewarded.

  Snyder’s adolescent years were made more difficult by her studious country upbringing and by the fact that she had been advanced a grade when she started school. As other girls were going to dances and discovering boys, Snyder retreated into books. The stories transported her from her small room to a larger, remarkable universe.

  At Whittier College, Zilpha Keatley Snyder met her future husband, Larry Snyder. After graduation, she began teaching upper-level elementary classes. Snyder taught for nine years, including three years as a master teacher for the University of California, Berkeley. The classroom experience gave Snyder a fresh appreciation of the interests and capabilities of preteens.

  As she continued her teaching career, Snyder gained more free time. She began writing at night, after teaching during the day; her husband helped by typing out her manuscripts. After finishing her first novel, she sent it to a publisher. It was accepted on her first try. That book, Season of Ponies, was published in 1964.

  In 1967, her fourth novel, The Egypt Game, won the Newbery Honor for excellence in children’s literature. Snyder went on to win that honor two more times, for her novels The Headless Cupid and The Witches of Worm. The Headless Cupid introduced the Stanley family, a clan she revisited three more times over her career.

  Snyder’s The Changeling (1970), in which two young girls invent a fantasy world dominated by trees, became the inspiration for her 1974 fantasy series, the Green Sky Trilogy. Snyder completed that series by writing a computer game sequel called Below the Root. The game went on to earn cult classic status.

  Over the almost fifty years of her career, Snyder has written about topics as diverse as time-traveling ghosts, serenading gargoyles, and adoption at the turn of the twentieth century. Today, she lives with her husband in Mill Valley, California. When not writing, Snyder enjoys reading and traveling.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1975 by Zilpha Keatley Snyder

  cover design by Mumtaz Mustafa

  978-1-4532-7192-6

  This edition published in 2012 by Open Road Integrated Media

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