The Wrinkle in Time Quintet

by Madeleine L'engle

  Mostly what was required of Polly was to hold a bowl of clean water and replenish it from the lake after each use. One of the raiders was laid out with a concussion, and Karralys had him stretched out on a bed of moss, covered with skins to keep him warm. Another had been left behind with a compound of his leg, and Polly helped hold his head while Karralys and Cub set the leg. It was a bad break, and the young raider clutched her in pain. Cub gave him something to drink, telling him it would ease the pain, then poured a thick greenish liquid into the wound where the jagged bone had broken through the skin, explaining that this would help prevent infection.

  When the leg was set and bound between two splints, the young raider was able to talk. Polly had difficulty in understanding him, and Karralys translated for her. “He says their crops have failed. There is no corn. Their grazing grounds are parched and the earth is dry and hard. They will not have enough to eat this winter. They will raid us again, with more men this time. They have no choice, he says. If they do not take our land and our crops and herds, they will starve.”

  “Couldn’t they just come ask you to share with them?” Polly asked.

  Karralys sighed. “That is not how it is done.”

  “Well.” Polly sighed, too. “At least nobody was killed.”

  “This time,” Karralys said. “Thank you for your help, Poll-ee.” He glanced over at the white-haired woman, who was still among the wounded, her shoulder held immobile by a stiff leather sling. “Eagle Woman is our—” He paused, searching for the right word.

  “Medicine woman?” Polly suggested. “Witch doctor? Shaman?”

  Karralys shook his head. None of these words had any meaning for him. “From what the Heron tells me, I think she is something like what you call doctor, and that you have no one like Cub, who is healer. She has knowledge of herbs and the cure of fevers and chills, and helps Cub nurse the sick or hurt. But the wound in her shoulder will keep Eagle Woman from work for some time. The bone is shattered where the arrow penetrated. You have done well. You did not need to turn away. You have training in the care of wounds?”

  Polly shook her head. “I come from a large family, and when we lived on Gaea—an island far away—where there weren’t any doctors, when anybody was hurt or sick I helped my parents. Karralys, where is Zachary?” She had followed Zachary out of a sense of responsibility, and now she had no idea where he was.

  “Zak?”

  “He was with me, the one I told you about, who saw Anaral. He was with me, and then when the fighting began, I forgot about him.”

  Karralys looked troubled. “He is here?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Polly said. “I tried to stop him—but then I couldn’t let him come alone, so…”

  “I do not understand why he is here,” Karralys said.

  “Neither do I.”

  “He is an unexpected complication. He may change the pattern.”

  “Karralys.” Polly pondered the question. “If Zachary and I have come to your time, couldn’t that change what happens in our time?”

  “Yes,” Karralys replied calmly. “The future is often changed by the past. There may indeed be many futures. But someone blundering into our time who is not part of the pattern may tangle and knot the lines.”

  “Unless,” Polly questioned, “he is part of the pattern?”

  “It is possible,” Karralys said. “If it is so, then it will not be easy.”

  “But where is he?”

  Anaral came up to them, hearing the question. “Zak? He is all right. He is with Bishop.”

  Polly then remembered that Dr. Louise had said her brother had gone off wearing hiking boots. Had he crossed the time threshold, knowing that he would be needed?

  Anaral had brought a clean bowl of water so that Karralys and Polly could wash their hands. The druid looked at Polly gravely. “You were a very great help. You are brave.”

  “Oh, I didn’t do anything much.”

  “Your hands have the gift,” Karralys pronounced. “You should serve it. Now we must join the others at the standing stones. They will be waiting.”

  They sat on the stone chairs within the great ring of stones—Polly, Anaral, Karralys, Cub, Tav, Zachary, the bishop, and several others of the People of the Wind.

  Polly still had a feeling of nightmare from the strange battle between two small armies, or bands of people—they could hardly be called armies. But if the skirmish had ended differently, Anaral could very well have been taken by the raiders.

  And what about Bishop Colubra? What would have happened if the raiders had taken the bishop? How would that have affected the circles of time? She shook her head. What mattered right now was that she had helped Cub and Karralys with the wounded, and she had to understand that although this clash of two tribes was over, there was more danger to come.

  She looked around at the circle of men and women, the leaders of the People of the Wind. Each one wore an animal skin or bird feathers or something representing a specific role in the affairs of the tribe. Eagle Woman was in her chair, her face white but composed, her arm held immobile by a leather sling and cushioned on a bed of moss and fern.

  The bishop was sitting across from Polly, and beside him was Zachary, pale as alabaster. Karralys sat in his stone chair, looking unutterably weary. He wore the long white robe and the torque with the stone the same shade as the topaz in the bishop’s ring. Og was lying beside him, bruised from the raider’s blow, but, Karralys assured them, no bones were broken.

  “The snake,” Tav said. “How was it that the snake came to end the fighting?”

  Karralys looked at Polly. “We have few snakes, and they are revered as gods. That you should have called a snake—you did call this snake?”

  “No!” She was astonished. “I just shouted for help.”

  “But immediately the snake came.”

  “It had nothing to do with me,” Polly protested.

  “Maybe she was just coming—on her way somewhere.”

  “A snake does not willingly come through lines of battle,” Cub said. “You called, and she came.”

  Tav hit the butt of his spear against the hard ground. “The snake came for you before, at the wall, when I was first speaking with you. She is your friend, that is what you said.”

  As Polly started to protest, again Karralys raised his hand. “It must have seemed to the raiders that you called the snake, that you had special help from the goddess, and that you yourself had special powers.”

  “Archaiai exousiai,” the bishop said.

  It was Greek, Polly knew, something about powers. The bishop had called out the Kyrie. Could not Louise have come as much for that as for her own cry for help? Or was it not, most likely, coincidence that the snake had come along the path at just that moment?

  “Principalities and powers,” the bishop said. “It would have looked to the raiders as though you could call on the principalities and powers.” He spoke gaspingly, as though he could scarcely breathe.

  “Bishop!” Anaral’s voice was sharp with anxiety. “Is something wrong?”

  All attention was drawn to the bishop, who was breathing in painful gasps. The rapid fluttering of his heart could be seen through his plaid shirt.

  Cub rose and went to the bishop. “Heron, our dear, it would please me if you would let me try to slow the beating of your heart. It is fast, even for a bird.”

  The bishop nodded. “Of course, Cub. It would be a great inconvenience to everybody if I died now, and it might produce a paradox that would distort the future.”

  Cub knelt beside the bishop, placing one hand under the plaid shirt, firmly against the bishop’s chest.

  Polly saw Zachary’s eyes lighten with interest and hope.

  Karralys watched Cub intently, nodding in approval.

  Tav looked from Cub to Karralys, then to Zachary. Zachary had disappeared during the fighting, and it seemed to Polly that Tav was looking at him with scorn.

  But instead of accusing Zachary
he demanded, “Where did the snake go?”

  “Louise the Larger,” the bishop panted.

  “Hush, Heron,” Cub said, and pressed his palm more strongly against the old man’s chest. Cub’s own breathing was slow and rhythmic, and the pressure of his hand reinforced the rhythm.

  “Where?” Tav repeated.

  “Hey,” Zachary said. “Translate for me, Polly.”

  “They’re talking about the snake,” Polly said. “Tav wants to know where she went.”

  Zachary said, “I saw her going along the path there, and probably she went three thousand years into the future.”

  “You—” Now Tav’s voice was definitely accusing.

  Zachary’s fingers were white as he held the sides of the stone chair Karralys had assigned him. “You’re talking much too fast for me to understand you, but if you want to know why I wasn’t in that beer-parlor brawl with you, I wouldn’t have been any help. I have a weak heart and I’d just have been in the way.” He spoke with stiff pride.

  Quickly Polly translated as best she could for Tav and the others.

  Cub withdrew his hand from the bishop’s chest. “There. That is better.”

  “Yes, my son,” Bishop Colubra said. “I could feel my heart steadying under your hand. I thank you.”

  “Is he all right?” Anaral asked anxiously.

  Cub nodded. “His heart is beating calmly and regularly now.”

  “I am fine,” the bishop said. His breathing had steadied with his heart, and he spoke normally. “Now we must think what to do next.”

  “Please,” Zachary said. “I saw that kid”—he indicated Cub—“steady the old man’s heart. I saw it. Please. I want him to help my heart.”

  Polly spoke in Ogam to Cub.

  “Yes. I will try. Not now. Later, when we are back at the tents,” Cub assured her.

  “He will try to help you,” Polly translated for Zachary, “later.”

  “The snake,” Tav insisted. “The snake who came for Poll-ee—”

  “No—” Polly started to deny again.

  But the bishop held up his hand. “Yes, Tav. We must not forget Polly’s snake.”

  “But she’s not—”

  Karralys addressed the bishop. “Can you explain?”

  “I’m not sure. You said that for you the snake is sacred?”

  “We revere the snake,” Karralys agreed.

  “And the People Across the Lake? They ran from the snake.”

  “True.” Karralys leaned on his elbow, his chin on his hand. “They did not retreat just because we fought well.”

  Tav said, “They thought that if Poll-ee could call the snake, then she could cause the snake to do them great harm. That is how I would feel.” He looked at Polly and she remembered his first reaction to Louise.

  She spoke directly to him, then turned to the others. “Louise—that is what we call her—is the first harmless snake I’ve ever met. Where I came from before I went to live with my grandparents, the snakes were mostly very poisonous.”

  The bishop said, “The Anula tribe of northern Australia associates a bird and a snake with rain.”

  Karralys shook his head. “The People Across the Lake have different traditions from ours, but as far as I know, they do not believe that snakes can bring rain. But neither they nor we would kill a snake.”

  Eagle Woman said, “The kindred of the snake would come and cause harm in vengeance. If we kill a snake because otherwise it would kill us, or by accident, we beg pardon of the snake’s spirit.”

  Tav pointed his spear at Zachary, and all eyes turned in his direction.

  “This is Zachary Gray,” Polly said.

  “He is from your time spiral?” Cub asked.

  “He is the one who saw Anaral,” Karralys explained, “because he is near death.”

  “What’s he saying?” Zachary asked.

  Polly was grateful that Zachary could not easily understand Ogam. No matter what he said about his heart and his brief life expectancy, she was certain he was not ready to hear anyone talking about his imminent death. She tried to make her face expressionless as she turned to him. “Karralys wants to know where you’re from.”

  “California,” Zachary said.

  Tav stood. “Karralys, you fought well.”

  “I did not want to fight,” Karralys said. “What I wanted to do was stop the fighting.”

  “They would have taken Anaral and Poll-ee, and the Heron, too.”

  “And so I fought. Yes, we fought well. But they were more than we, many more, and if the snake had not come—”

  “Bless Louise the Larger,” the bishop said.

  Karralys’s blue eyes brightened. “Is that not enough for you, Tav? That Polly was sent to us by the goddess for this?”

  “I was so certain,” Tav murmured. “But perhaps he—” He looked at Zachary.

  “Hey!” Zachary’s voice was urgent. “Slow down! I’m not quick with languages like Polly. What are they talking about?”

  “Well—” Polly prevaricated. “We were outnumbered by the raiders—”

  “We? Are you part of this ‘we’?”

  She looked around the circle of stone chairs protected by the great standing stones. “Yes.” She was one with Anaral and Karralys and Tav and Cub and the others. And so was the bishop. He had proven that.

  Tav looked at her hopefully, and the paleness of his eyes was not hard or metallic, like a sky whitened and glaring from too much sun, but tender and cool, like the lake. “You were right when you told me the snake was your friend. Perhaps I have been wrong about the Mother’s needs.”

  “You are wrong, indeed.” Karralys stood. “Bishop Heron. Polly, Zak. You must go. Now, while there is still time.”

  The bishop looked around. “I don’t think we can.”

  “Why not?” Cub asked.

  “I may be wrong, but I do not think the time gate is open.”

  Karralys looked startled. He went to the central flat altar stone and climbed up on it, then lay down on his back, arms outstretched, eyes closed. Motionless. Time seemed to hang suspended. No one spoke. The People of the Wind seemed to have moved into another dimension where it was possible for them to wait infinitely. The bishop sighed. Zachary restlessly shifted position. Polly tried not to move, but began to be afraid that her legs would cramp.

  At last Karralys sat up, slowly shaking his head. “The threshold is closed.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was getting dark. The sun slid down behind the standing stones. A northwest wind blew cuttingly.

  “Perhaps we should go someplace warm and make our plans?” the bishop suggested.

  Karralys raised a hand for attention. “There is a fire and a feast being prepared. We need to celebrate our victory—and then be sure that we have people keeping watch all through the night.”

  “And collect all our weapons.” Tav moved away from his chair. “The feast, and our thanks to Poll-ee.”

  “It was only Louise the Larger,” Polly insisted. “It had nothing to do with me.”

  “We will talk later about the time gate.” Karralys started toward the lake and the tents.

  Zachary shouted after him, “Wait!”

  Karralys paused.

  “I don’t understand your time gates,” Zachary said, “or how I could possibly be here, but I saw that kid in the wolf skin—”

  “Cub. Our young Grey Wolf.”

  “I saw him calm the old man’s heart.”

  “The bishop,” Polly amended.

  “Please. I don’t want him to forget me.”

  Karralys looked at Zachary compassionately. “He will not forget you. Now. Come with me.”

  At the lake a great bonfire was blazing, so bright it almost dimmed the stars, which were coming out as night deepened. The wounded men and women were attended by other members of the tribe so that they would not be left out of the celebration, and the two raiders were there, too. The man with the concussion had regained consciousness, a
nd Eagle Woman had been placed next to him. Despite her arm and shoulder held in the sling, and the fact that her lips were white with pain, she was watching him with care.

  “The dark of his eyes is back to normal,” she said. “He will be all right.”

  Polly, the bishop, and Zachary were given seats on skins piled near the star-watching rock. Near them was the young raider with the broken femur, and Anaral sat by him, helping him to eat and drink. Behind them, the oaks rose darkly and majestically, their great branches spreading across the sky, with stars twinkling through the branches as an occasional bronze leaf drifted down. Across the lake, the mountains loomed darkly, their snow-covered peaks just beginning to gleam as the moon prepared to rise. The shore where the People of the Wind had their tents was invisible in the distance.

  Karralys stood at the water’s edge and raised his arms to the sky. “Bless the sky that holds the light and life of the sun and the promise of rain,” he chanted, and one by one the other council members joined him, echoing his song.

  “Bless the moon with her calm and her dreams. Bless the waters of the lake, and the earth that is strong under our feet. Bless those who have come to us from a far-off time. Bless the one who summoned the snake, and bless the snake who came to our aid. Bless the east where the sun rises and the west where it goes to rest. Bless the north from where the snows come, and the south that brings the spring. Bless the wind who gives us our name. O Blesser of all blessings, we thank you.”

  He turned from the lake and smiled at the people gathered around skins spread out on the ground. A deer was being roasted on a spit, and a group of young warriors danced around it, chanting.

  “What’re they singing about?” Zachary asked Polly.

  “I think they’re thanking it for giving them—us—its life.”

  “It didn’t have much choice,” Zachary pointed out.

  Perhaps it didn’t, but Polly felt a graciousness in the dance and in the singing.

  “When’s that kid going to feel my heart?”

  “Soon,” Polly assured him. “At the right time, Zachary, please trust him.”