"Ilien," she said. "Why not come inside, dear?"
Ilien tried to peer past her for signs of Gallund, but she stepped forward, blocking his view.
"You are not my mother," he said evenly in his deep, mannish voice. "And don't call me dear."
"Of course I'm your mother," she replied, still trying to tame her wild hair. "Don't be silly."
Ilien glanced back at the boy, who by now had moved closer.
"Who are you? Who are you?" the boy taunted.
His mother reached out a suddenly bony hand. "Come inside, dear. It's getting late."
"Who are you? Who are you?" the boy chanted again.
"I said come inside!" the woman with the untamed hair demanded, the woman who looked like his mother. "Come in this minute!"
Ilien ran. The boy moved to intercept him but Ilien dodged his outstretched arms, jumped the fence and streaked away, his long man-legs propelling him faster than he had ever run before. The shrieks and wails of his mother receded as he sprinted up the road, and disappeared as he raced past the pond toward Parson's Hill. He had to get back to the dog house. When he reached the tilled field he looked back the way he had come. The boy was nowhere in sight. With a burst of fear-driven energy he ran through the forest and back to the cave. To his relief, it was still there.
He rushed into the darkness, running along the stony corridor, stumbling forward with amazing speed. Soon the entrance shrank to a pale moon behind him and the lack of light forced him to slow. But fear kept him moving, one hand on the rough hewn wall to guide his way. The tunnel entrance soon dwindled to a faint star and vanished.
He continued on. Now and then his fingers closed on empty air as a side tunnel forked away in a different direction. He didn't recall making any turns on his way out of the cave so he figured he shouldn't make any on his way back in. His footsteps echoed around him, sounding like followers in the dark. Unsure of where he was, not knowing what to do, he finally stopped. The muffled clap of his last step bounced along the unseen walls and faded to silence. He was alone in the void, afraid to call out for fear of hearing his strange, deep voice in the blackness, or worse yet, his own familiar voice answering back.
But in his mind he wondered, Who am I?
That there came no answer was a relief. He might have been lost, but at least he was alone. He had escaped to a dark, silent prison, but darkness was better than seeing his mother's burning red eyes, and silence better than hearing her screams. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He had to find his way back to the dog house. He had to keep moving.
A single footfall sounded in the blackness behind him.
He froze. The cold tunnel wall felt slick beneath his hand as he strained to detect the sound again. Had he imagined it? Or was someone following him? He raised his foot to move again. Two more footfalls echoed behind him, louder, closer.
He wasn't alone.
A whisper drifted to him, a chill movement of air. "I know who you are."
Ilien started forward in the dark, slowly at first, feeling the walls, stepping carefully so as not to trip. The footfalls resumed behind him.
"I know who you are," came the whisper again, closer this time.
Ilien moved faster, looking over his shoulder as he ran. Forward or backward, the void was impenetrable. Behind him, the sound of feet on the tunnel floor drew nearer. He sprinted ahead, his hands held before him, his head down.
"I know you! I know you!" the voice screamed behind him, shrill and fierce in the blackness.
Then up ahead, like a glorious beacon, Ilien saw a star, blue and bright. The exit! Freedom! He sped toward it, not caring if it was a trick, only that it was there.
"I know who you are! I know who you are!" the voice shrieked.
The blue light ahead widened into a sky-filled hole in the void. Ilien shot forward, desperate to elude his pursuer. But the voice sped past him, screaming in fury.
"You will never get out!"
The light disappeared as something stepped in front of it. Ilien rushed ahead, heedless, furious, maddened. He dropped his shoulder and hit something hard, a barrier between him and the light, a raging wind that sought to cast him aside.
"Get back, Reknamarken!" he cried.
The cave jumped and shook like the throat of a laughing man. The floor spilled out beneath him and he fell to his knees. Rising, he fought his way forward, head down, arms raised. One step, then another, he marched toward the hidden light. A blast of cold wind battered him backwards. He had to get through! He had to get through!
Suddenly he did . . . and he fell into sunlight.
"I'm free! I'm free!" he heard himself shout.
But he hadn't said a word.
Chapter XIII
The Swan
Ilien lay on his back on something soft yet prickly. The blurred outline of a face hovered over him. "Where am I?" he asked, relieved to hear his own voice issue from his mouth.
"You're safe," soothed a woman's voice.
But Ilien sensed something was wrong. As his vision began to return, so did his fear. The face that slowly took shape before him was something from out of a nightmare. White as a ghost, horribly stretched and emaciated with one yellow eye that seemed to quiver and writhe about, the face peered at him from atop a long white neck, swaying back and forth like a giant, albino snake.
Ilien tried to move, but couldn't. His body was paralyzed—except for his mouth. "Stay away from me! I'm a wizard!" he cried, giving the still-blurry face as fierce a look as he could. "Come any closer and I'll—I'll turn you into a toad!" It was a lie, but one he counted on the monster leaning over him not knowing.
"You're safe here, Ilien." The monster's yellow eye blinked with every word it spoke. "There's nothing to fear. You'll see. Your vision will soon return."
And so it did, rather abruptly. And when it did, Ilien found himself face to face with—a duck? No, not a duck. A swan! A massive, snow white swan with a shiny yellow beak.
"You're the Swan!" Ilien smiled up at her in relief. "Then I really am safe."
"Yes. You are safe." The Swan peered down at him and the great bird's eyes seemed like deep, black pools. She lifted her head and stretched out her wings, ten feet in each direction. The massive wings folded silently back into place and the swan lowered her head once more, her eyes opening wide. "Safe for now," she said.
"For now?" Ilien struggled to move. "Why do you say it like that? And why can't I move? What have you done to me?" He peered at the Swan's yellow beak for signs of teeth. "You're not going to eat me or anything, are you?" He realized the Swan was large enough to do just that.
"Of course not," the magnificent bird laughed. "You're a bit too scrawny for me. Besides, I'm told that Nomadin tastes horrible."
There came a hearty chuckle from somewhere close by and the Swan shot off a disapproving look to its maker. Ilien strained to see who it was. He could see lush green grass all around and a deep blue sky above, but little else in his state of immobility.
"Your body has been drained," the Swan informed him, still pinning someone beyond Ilien's field of vision with an icy glare. She turned to Ilien with a soft smile on her beak, if that was possible. "You've passed through Reknamarken's shadow. But don't worry, your motion will return in time, very soon really if I'm not mistaken."
"A bit scrawny," someone chuckled again, this time ignoring the Swan's warning glance and falling into a fit of laughter filled with snorts and shouts and quite a bit of knee slapping.
The Swan flapped her massive wings once. "Anselm! I said you could stay if you kept quiet!"
"Anselm?" Ilien tried to peer behind him. "That sounds like—like that—"
"That Giant?" The Swan shook her feathered head. "Yes. I'm afraid so."
She glanced hotly at Anselm and ruffled her feathers. "But have no fear, Ilien. This is actually a rather kind Giant, as Giants go. He won't harm you, no matter what he says."
"Windy!" Ilien cried with a start. "Where's Windy?"
&
nbsp; There was silence, even from the bemused Giant. "I could only save you, Ilien," the Swan replied.
"What do you mean? Then she's in trouble. I have to help her!" He struggled to move.
The Swan bent her long, graceful neck downward, bringing her feathered face close to Ilien's. Again her dark eyes spread out like black pools of water. "I could only open one door," she said. "And even then it nearly drained me." Ilien stared at her blankly. "The NiDemon has her."
Ilien shivered as an icy chill swept through him.
"But your strength is growing fast," she continued. "Already your motion is returning. Soon you will be well enough."
Though the Swan's face remained impassive, Ilien sensed something else beneath her words, something left unsaid, or unfinished. "Well enough for what?" he asked.
The Swan flapped her wings once more, swaying the grass all about, then folded them back at her sides. The breeze sent grasshoppers springing from the grass in all directions.
"Why, well enough to rescue her," she said.
Ilien felt like running, but he couldn't. "Me? Rescue her? But what can I possibly do against a NiDemon?"
The Swan's great head darted forward and she snatched a grasshopper from out of the air, swallowing it whole. "You forget you are Nomadin." Another grasshopper buzzed by and she caught it with a snap of her beak.
Ilien stared at her in wide-eyed disbelief.
"Sorry," she said, looking sheepish. "Instinct."
"But I'm just a boy," Ilien argued. "I'm not even a wizard. I'm just an apprentice."
The Swan's eyes narrowed into shiny, black marbles. She leaned in closer, until the bulk of her yellow beak was only inches from Ilien's face. "You are right. You are not a wizard. A wizard's power pales to yours."
A jolt of pain jumped through him and Ilien cried out. For a full minute he lay on the ground, stiff and breathless, while the Swan fanned cool air on him.
"It will pass," she soothed. "Be thankful. For most, the agony left by Reknamarken's shadow is the last thing they ever feel."
Slowly the pain receded and Ilien moved his hand to wipe the tears from his eyes, surprised he could do so.
The Swan stood straight and beamed down at him. "See! Even the most powerful of wizards could not have passed through Reknamarken's shadow and have recovered so quickly, Ilien. But you are no ordinary wizard, that much is evident. You may even be no ordinary Nomadin, if ever there was such a thing. I knew when you were first brought to me that you were different. Your parents knew as well, I suppose."
"My parents?" Ilien propped himself up, the surprise evident on his face even through his painful grimace. "My parents brought me here?"
"Yes, when you were a baby. But not the parents you know, Ilien. Your real parents."
Another spasm of pain coursed through him and Ilien fell back, clutching his chest.
"Yes, I'm afraid there is much you don't know that will hurt," the Swan warned. "Your parents back in Southford are not your birth-parents."
Ilien lay still, bearing the pain in silence until it subsided again. "Then who are my parents?" he managed to ask. "And who am I?"
The Swan nodded to Anselm, who had been so quiet that Ilien had forgotten he was there at all. "I will tell you everything I know. But first you must rest. The shadow still hangs over you and you need to recover your strength."
Anselm came into view, his massive, stony features set in a sympathetic frown. A large, hairy face suddenly eclipsed the Giant's, a thick, pink tongue licking Ilien's face.
"Kink," Ilien exclaimed, reaching up to scratch the ever-grinning dog behind the ear. "Kink, my boy."
Kink was so excited he rolled in the grass beside Ilien like a crazed wind-up toy. The Swan looked on, amused. "Anselm will take you to a place where you can rest out of the elements." She leaned her beak toward the Giant, her beady eyes growing beadier. "Gently, Anselm."
Anselm bent down and scooped Ilien up. His trunk-like arms were as hard as wood, and Ilien winced. Anselm shot the Swan a worried look.
"To Hemlock," she instructed, "and watch over him."
"But I have so many questions," Ilien protested.
The Swan waved them off with a wing. "Go now. Rest. We will talk more soon." Then she turned and waddled away.
As Anselm carried him off, Ilien looked around from his perch high up in the Giant's arms. They were leaving the grassy field, heading for a dense evergreen forest not unlike the one around Anselm's house. Behind him, the sun sat poised above the outstretched lake, unmoving on the horizon, its long rays warming the back of Ilien's neck. Kink tore past them, running back and forth across the lawn in fits of glee.
"Where are we?" Ilien asked as he bounced along in the Giant's arms.
Anselm stopped and looked back toward the water. "We're clear across the lake. My house is on the other side." His face bent in sorrow as he gazed out toward the bright horizon.
"You miss your wife, don't you?" Ilien said.
The Giant locked eyes with him. "No. I was thinking of my parakite." With that he resumed his march toward the forest.
As they traveled, the field gave way to patches of wild flowers Ilien had never seen before. Low clusters of purple and white blossoms blanketed the grass before them. Among them, tall green stems shot upward, bursting with tiny, multi-colored blooms. Beyond these, and to either side, thick hedges tangled with crimson-colored roses spilled to the ground, pooling like wine on a lush green carpet. A sweet smell hung in the air, and a myriad of tiny hummingbirds zipped here and there, dancing to get out of their way as they walked. Kink chased after them, pawing and nipping at the air.
And the forest! As they drew closer, Ilien saw that it wasn't like the one behind the Giant's house at all. The trees grew so tall and wide around that the green forest canopy seemed suspended on gigantic, brown marble columns.
"It's paradise," he whispered.
Anselm looked around with a smile. "It's the way the world once was. Now only the Drowsy Wood remains, hidden from all but the animals." He noticed Ilien looking at him. "And a special few," he added proudly.
"But why is it so different across the lake where you live?" Ilien waved away a hummingbird trying to feed in his ear.
"That side is the entrance to the Wood—the mud room, you might call it. It's where I keep guard against all the unwanteds who accidentally find a way in. It's my job."
Ilien watched Kink speed by like a horseless wagon, big as he was. "You're the doorman?"
"You could say that."
"But what about the dogs?" Ilien pressed, his face bent with sudden disapproval. "Kink, Crank, Bleak. How come they were there? Why wouldn't you let them go?"
Anselm turned a shade of red, his ears burning brightly. He watched as Kink sprinted joyfully by. "I have issues."
"What?"
"I have issues. That's why they put me over there on the other side of the lake." A yellow hummingbird landed on the Giant's forehead. His hands full, he tried to blow it off. It hopped to his nose and took hold with its claws, refusing to let go. Cross-eyed, Anselm continued. "Those dogs fell into my traps and tore them all to pieces. They shouldn't have been there in the first place." The hummingbird began to peck him. Anselm's ears turned from red to purple, and a thin trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face as he tried to ignore the little beast.
"So I got angry," he continued, breathing heavy now. "I hid the way back under a dog house and told them they were never gonna leave again." He stared across the field. The hummingbird stared with him. "They weren't that bad off! They could hunt for themselves. But no way was I gonna let them free after what they did to my traps!" His face turned hard, his stonewall forehead furrowed deeply. "I lost my temper, that's all." He looked abashed. "It's a problem I have, I know."
The hummingbird began grooming itself and Anselm shook his head in crazed derangement. "Will you get off my face, you stinking feathered freak!" The bird flew off like a shot and Anselm looked stone-eyed at the approaching fore
st. "But I'm working on it."
They passed from the field and entered the trees, making their way down a wide forest lane. The air grew dark and heavy, and Ilien looked up in amazement. The forest here was certainly quite different from the one across the lake. More ancient and less tended, the boughs of the trees were woven into a thick, needled web above, spreading out like a tangled stone ceiling to block out the sun. Ilien peered forward into the shadows. Columns of trees marched into the gloomy distance, sooty pillars in an underground hall.
They walked in silence through the shrouded forest. Kink trotted behind, sniffing loudly in the dark at the roots and stones that laced the ground. Now and then Anselm stopped, looking left and right as if lost, but always he continued on down the lane they were in. Before long they stopped in the shadows beside an ancient tree, its moss-grown trunk so massive that an entire house could have been carved within it. Through the darkness, Ilien saw that was precisely what someone had done. A door, concealed by the overhanging moss and so well-hidden that it seemed only etched into the tree's rough bark, was vaguely visible in the center of the trunk. Two windows, one on each side of the door, were covered by tight-fit shutters cut from the tree's very surface.
Anselm stepped up on the front stoop, a low root that grew out of the ground just in front of the door, and looked at Ilien. "Do you think you can stand?"
Ilien nodded, staring in wonder at the secreted tree-house before him.
Anselm set him down. "Good. I'll get the door."
It wasn't until Ilien watched Anselm grab and turn a raised knot, sending the front door swinging silently in on invisible hinges, that he realized he was actually standing.
Anselm rushed to catch him. "Whoa there! You'd better lie down." He scooped Ilien up and, ducking to get through the door, carried him inside.
Kink knew better than to try and slink past the Giant a second time, and he curled up on the outside stoop contentedly.
The door swung shut behind them, sealing them in utter darkness. Ilien revelled in the heavy scent of sap and spice that filled the warm air, and tried to peer through the inky blackness. Anselm crashed into something in the dark and cursed. He changed directions, knocking over something else, sending it clattering to the floor. After a few more curses, he set Ilien down upon something large and soft and Ilien heard him move back toward the door. A moment later the shadows fled as the Giant lit a lamp. He lit another, then another, and soon the tree-house filled with warm, cheery light.
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