“I can’t cast spells,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “The last thing I remember clearly is breakfast this morning. The rest of it is all fuzzy.”
Kyja giggled, her laughter blending in with the other sounds. Somewhere in the distance came three distinct hoots. “Breakfast was two days ago. You’ve been sleeping since then.”
Marcus could only stare, dumbfounded. He’d been asleep for two whole days?
“The trees have been caring for you,” Kyja said. “I think their sap is what made you better—along with the wood sprites’ magic.”
“Wood sprites?” Marcus asked looking around.
Kyja held out her hand, and several of the tiny pink specks rose briefly from her palm before fluttering slowly back. Marcus leaned closer. They looked like tiny sparks, but if he squinted his eyes, he could almost make out thin bodies and transparent wings.
“Why didn’t you tell me you could do magic?” Kyja asked. In the darkness it was hard to make out her expression.
“I . . . didn’t. That is I . . .” he stammered. He’d never told anyone about his abilities before—never trusted anyone enough to share his secret. “It’s not really magic. It’s just sometimes I can make people look away from me. And now and then I seem to know things before they happen.”
Before Kyja could respond, a golden toad hopped across the forest floor and said in a clear voice, “Olden will see you now.”
Chapter 27
Olden
here is it taking us?” Marcus asked.
Kyja raised her hands in a who-knows gesture. Over the two days Marcus had slept, the trees had stopped her from wandering very far. They said it was to keep her from getting lost, but Kyja suspected it was to keep her from snooping around. They told her Riph Raph was being kept somewhere else—apparently the trees had a problem with animals that could blow fire—and Chance was safely eating grass in a meadow nearby.
For the last twenty minutes, she and Marcus had been following the golden toad down one dark, tree-lined passageway after another, far from anywhere Kyja had explored. Despite the toad’s constant urging to go faster, Kyja walked slowly so that Marcus could keep up with her and let him stop as often as he needed. With the only illumination coming from the clouds of multicolored wood sprites above their heads and spread among the tree branches, the toad could be leading them in circles, for all she knew.
At one point Marcus refused to go any farther. Rubbing his bad leg, he demanded the toad tell them where they were headed and how long it would take to get there. But the toad only admonished them that they were going to be late if they didn’t hurry, and hopped off into the darkness. Marcus tried to keep up with it, muttering something that sounded like Mad Hatter.
“Why do the tree branches wave around like that?” Marcus asked.
Again Kyja shrugged. Of course she’d noticed how the trees flapped their long limbs slowly up and down, creating their own fragrant breezes, but they were as much of a mystery to her as they were to him.
As they headed down into a gully, the path grew wet and spongy. Marcus grimaced when the tip of his staff sank deep into the muck and he was forced to drop to the seat of his pants. “I envy you,” he said, trying to scoot along the dank forest floor and brush the wet pine needles from his hands at the same time.
“Me?” Kyja asked, carrying his staff. She couldn’t remember anyone ever envying her before. It was always the other way around. “Why would you envy me?”
“You have two good arms and legs. You don’t have to look up at everyone. You never have to ask anyone to help you reach something on a tall shelf. You don’t have to crawl across the ground like a . . . a bug.”
“I never thought of that,” Kyja said watching Marcus scuttle along the path beside her. “You make it seem so easy. Actually I envy you.”
Marcus cocked his head and narrowed his eyes as though he suspected she was joking. “Me?”
Kyja nodded. “All my life I’ve wanted to do magic. Even something as simple as making a pot boil. Then you come along and make an entire horse disappear without giving it a second thought.”
They both followed the toad silently, contemplating the other’s words. As she walked, Kyja studied their surroundings. Although the forest was full of animal life, except for an occasional waist-high fern the trees were the only plant life in the forest. They were so tall and their branches so thick it was impossible to see their tops. Now and then, she caught an occasional glimpse of something dark gray high up through the interlacing green, but not a trace of sunlight.
Pausing for a moment, Kyja touched the side of a nearby tree. The bark was a deep, almost brown, red—rough but fragrant. As she ran her hand over its bumpy surface, one of her fingers touched a fuzzy spot about the size of her knuckle. When she pressed against it, her fingertip sank into the bark.
“What are you doing?” thrummed a deep voice. “Stop that.”
“Oh!” Kyja jumped backward, pulling her hand from the tree. “I was just . . . um . . .”
“Humph,” the tree grunted. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
“Sorry,” Kyja said. She wondered what the soft spot was. She’d seen the same thing on other trees while exploring—fuzzy gray splotches on the otherwise perfect bark.
“Look at that,” Marcus said, interupting her thoughts.
Kyja followed Marcus’s gaze to see the toad hop onto a spiral staircase. As she and Marcus approached the stairs, they discovered the staircase was actually composed of tree branches—spread out and down to form steps circling up the trunk. Marcus crawled onto the first branch. Seeing that it held his weight just fine, Kyja followed him, still carrying his staff. Climbing the steps, Kyja realized she’d been hearing the growing roar of rushing water for some time now.
Several feet ahead of them, the toad stopped and looked back. “Step lively now,” it croaked.
Kyja and Marcus hurried behind it to discover they were perched forty or more feet above the bank of a fast-moving river. White water crashed and cascaded against glistening boulders. Kyja tried to picture a map of the land they’d traveled—wondering if this was the same Two Prong River that ran beside Terra ne Staric—but she’d never been this far from the city before.
Down below, the forest had blocked much of the sound, but up here, with an unobstructed view of the river, the roar was thunderous. The branch steps seemed to end at the platform they were standing on.
“What now?” Marcus asked, trying to make his voice heard over the river.
In answer, the toad hopped to the edge of the branch and leaped into midair.
Kyja gasped. Then something amazing happened. All along the bank of the river, the trees waved their branches like giant umbrellas. Instead of falling, the toad spread out its long legs and seemed to fly. Like a bird or a skimmer, it glided across the river and landed softly on the far bank.
“Hurry up!” it croaked, shouting above the din of the river.
Marcus and Kyja looked at each other with wide eyes, then at the toad. “How do we get across?” Kyja yelled.
“Jump!” the toad said impatiently.
With an impish grin, Marcus shrugged his shoulders. He took his staff from Kyja and crawled out on the branch until it bent beneath his weight. Holding the staff in both hands he said, “Here goes nothing.”
“No,” Kyja said, reaching for him. Before she could grab him, he launched himself from the branch. For a moment he plummeted toward the river, and Kyja’s heart lodged firmly in her throat. Then, as the trees again beat their branches against the air, he, too, appeared to fly.
“Ya-hooo!” he whooped, waving at Kyja with his staff. Reaching the far bank, he hit the ground softly and executed a perfect som-ersault. “Try it,” he shouted with a huge grin. “It’s great!”
Kyja looked down at the raging white water and clutched a branch above her head. What if it didn’t work for her? What if it was some kind of magic? She turned to go back down the way she’d come, but the steps had disa
ppeared.
“Come on!” Marcus yelled as the toad began hopping into the woods on the other side of the river.
Kyja gazed at the rocks so far below. Blood pounded in her ears.
“Don’t be afraid,” said a deep but gentle voice. “We won’t let you fall.”
“P-promise?” she stammered.
“Of course,” said the voice. “Weather Guardian’s oath.”
Gritting her teeth, she slid her feet a few inches away from the trunk of the tree. One at a time, she pried her fingers from the branch. Squeezing her eyes shut, she mustered all of her courage and jumped.
She was falling! Opening her eyes, she saw the river rushing up toward her. It hadn’t worked after all. Just as she felt sure she was going to crash into the fast-moving water, something like a warm hand cupped her body and raised her into the air. Wind lifted her long hair off her neck and blew it away from her face.
“You’re doing great!” a voice called.
She turned to see Marcus waving at her, grinning like an idiot. Gently as a feather, the wind set her on the bank.
“Great job!” Marcus patted her shoulder before turning to follow the toad.
Still trying to catch her breath, Kyja looked across the river at the tree from which she’d jumped. The enormous pine tipped a branch in her direction. Kyja waved back, then hurried after Marcus.
“This way,” Marcus said, limping up the side of a steep hill. Kyja trotted up next to him.
At the top of the hill, the toad waited. When it saw them, it hopped down the path and into a large clearing.
As she followed the toad into the opening, Kyja blinked her eyes. It wasn’t exactly sunny, but for the first time she could see all the way to the sky. A tiny circle of blue was cut out of the thick, gray clouds.
“Your majesty,” the toad said, stopping at the edge of the path, “I present Kyja and Marcus.”
Across the clearing—past a scrubby little tree that looked more like a bush—were three of the most magnificent trees Kyja had ever seen. Each of their trunks was thicker across than she could stretch her arms. They rose up into the sky—disappearing into the clouds and then emerging through the round, blue opening of sky.
Kyja glanced at Marcus, and his eyes silently asked the same question she was wondering. Which of the three is Olden? Kyja gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. In front of them, the toad tilted its head, the meaning on its warty little face obvious: step up and say something.
Kyja waved Marcus forward with a jerk of her hand, and together the two of them approached the three trees.
“It’s an honor to meet you . . . your majesty.” Kyja hesitated a moment before curtseying in the direction of the middle tree. Putting most of his weight on his staff, Marcus performed an awkward bow.
The trees remained silent.
Marcus shot her a nervous glance before turning to the tree on the right. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for helping us.”
Again the trees said nothing.
Together they turned to the tree on the left and Kyja said, “Is there anything we can do to repay you?”
Still the trees towered mutely above them.
Just when they were beginning to wonder if they’d done something wrong, a voice spoke.
“The first thing you can do is turn around and stop looking at my sons, you foolish children,” said a high-pitched, waspish voice that sounded like an old woman. “If I must speak with you, I would prefer not to look at your backsides.”
Marcus and Kyja spun around to face the scraggly little tree they had passed by.
Chapter 28
The Dark Circle
ot what you imagined?” the gnarled tree snipped.
Marcus and Kyja glanced uncomfortably toward each other.
“Bah! See how you look when you’re a thousand years old.”
“I’m sorry,” Marcus said, scratching his shoulder. “I was just expecting . . .” He let his voice trail away, unsure how to complete the thought.
“Something taller?” Olden asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I guess so.” Marcus shifted his feet. “The rest of the trees in the forest are so big.”
“For your information, there was no forest here when I was a sapling. It was all dry, empty plain. If it wasn’t for the Weather Guardians, it still would be. Westland can thank me and my children for guiding the clouds to send the rain it receives. But do you think they ever show any gratitude?”
“I had no idea,” Kyja said.
“Hummph,” Olden grunted.
“Is that why you all do that thing with your arms . . . er branches?” Marcus asked, hoping to change the subject to something more agreeable.
“Weather channeling,” the tree said. “It was my idea. We send the clouds to where moisture is needed.”
“Neat,” Marcus said. He was not exactly sure how to have a conversation with a tree. Where were you supposed to look when speaking to something that didn’t seem to have a mouth or face? He scuffed his tennis shoe in the dirt, wondering if all trees were this grumpy.
“Well?” the tree said impatiently. “What do you want? Speak up. I don’t have all day.”
“I . . . er . . .” Marcus glanced at Kyja, hoping she’d help him out, but she didn’t seem to have any more clue about what to say than he did.
“Is that all you came here for? To show me your backsides, insult me, and inquire about the weather? I don’t know why the wizard bothered asking me to talk to you at all. Neither of you seem very intelligent, and I’ve got a million things to do today.”
Marcus wondered exactly what kinds of things trees did all day, but thought it better not to ask. He held his tongue. Kyja curtsied and said in a humble tone, “We appreciate you seeing us, Your Highness. Master Therapass said you are the wisest tree in all of Westland, and if we wanted to learn about the past, you were the only one to speak with.”
“He did, did he?”
Marcus wasn’t sure, but he thought Olden might have been smiling a little—if trees could smile. She certainly sounded pleased.
“Oh, yes,” Kyja said. “He told us the trees of Westland Woods were the smartest living things in all of Westland, and you were the smartest of them all.”
Marcus certainly hadn’t heard the wizard say that, but a sharp glance from Kyja kept his lips sealed.
“Well.” Olden fluffed her mostly-bare branches and rustled her needles. “I suppose I do know quite a bit. You can’t live as long as I have without hearing things.”
“What have you heard about the snake-men?” Marcus blurted out. Kyja shot him an irritated look.
“Thrathkin S’Bae,” Olden said, drawing her branches close to her trunk. “Wizards of the Dark Circle. No one has seen them in these parts for hundreds of years. That you brought them here is a bad omen for all of us. We do not wish to draw the attention of the Fallen Ones. If not for Master Therapass, we would have left you to them.”
Kyja shuddered visibly. “Master Therapass said the Thrathkin S’Bae are chasing us because of a legend.” She pulled the amulet from her robe. “Show them your shoulder, Marcus.”
Marcus hesitated. After all the years of hiding the brand on his arm, he wasn’t any more comfortable showing it to others than he was talking about his abilities. Finally, he relented and lifted his shirt sleeve.
Olden bent forward, and Marcus could almost see eyes staring out of the tree’s bark.
“Does it mean anything to you?” Kyja asked.
“No,” Olden snapped suddenly—her tone even colder than when they’d first met. She pulled her bent trunk to its full height. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“What about the legend?” Marcus tried. “Master Therapass said you might be able to tell us about the legend of the living things of the world fighting with each other.”
“Humans invent stories all the time. It makes them feel better for living such pitifully short lives. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get my morning
sunlight. Anura, please see them out of the woods.”
At the tree’s command, the golden toad hopped toward the trail and looked expectantly back at Marcus and Kyja with its bulging eyes.
“Wait,” Marcus said. “You can’t just send us away. The Thrathkin S’Bae might still be out there.”
“Better out there than in here. We have no quarrel with the Dark Circle, and I intend to keep it that way.”
A murmur of approval came from the nearby trees.
“So you’re just going to let them kill us?” Marcus swiped his hand across his brow. His head felt hot again, and his stomach was roiling.
Olden waved her branches in a shooing gesture. “We saved you once. If the legend is true, you should have no fear of the Fallen Ones. After all, you’re the one who’s prophesied to banish them.”
“Then you do know about the legend,” Marcus said.
Olden’s trunk stiffened, and all of her branches seemed to shake at once. “Both of you children leave now, before I have you thrown out.”
Marcus turned to Kyja, who had a strangely thoughtful look on her face. She stepped toward one of the three trees they’d mistaken for Olden at first and placed her fingertips on its trunk.
“What are you doing?” a gruff voice said.
Kyja looked up with an expression of wonderment. “You’re sick.”
“What?” the tree thundered. “That’s nonsense.”
Ignoring it, Kyja moved to the next tree and placed her hand against what looked like a piece of gray fuzz on its rough bark. “You’re sick, too.”
She hurried to the next huge tree. “You too. All of you are sick.” She spun around to stare at Olden. “The entire forest is slowly dying. And you know all about it, don’t you?”
Marcus had no idea what she was talking about. Olden looked like she was about to wither into sawdust, but as far as the rest of the forest, he’d never seen healthier trees in his life.
“Get these two out of here now!” Olden screeched. At once, the trees started to wave their broad branches, and the same wind that had carried Marcus and Kyja over the river began pushing them from the clearing.
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