Riddle of Green

by Isobelle Carmody

  “The lemmings said he was their guide,” the wander murmured.

  “The Sett Owl told them that if they followed Ofred, they would find the new territory they need, and that those who followed him to the end would find a strange and wondrous home. But I think lemmings are not much interested in strangeness.” Little Fur looked at Ofred. “It is hard to believe that the dreams of one small lemur can lead the lemmings to a new territory, as well as remind Danger how to shapeshift and bring me to the earth spirit.”

  “That explains why he smells of madness,” said Wander. “It is a hard thing to live a life led by dreams.”

  The shadows were long when the road serpent slowed down and began to struggle up a steep incline that brought them out of the valley and back onto the grassy plain. The rails curved inland slightly for a time, and Little Fur caught a glimpse of the cloudlike ice mountains far away on the horizon. They made her think of Nobody and wonder what was happening to her. Little Fur could not imagine Sorrow failing to rescue her.

  “Do you remember anything of your past?” Wander asked Danger as they all sat together in the thin sunlight that shone through the ragged clouds fleeting across the sky. The day was coming to a close, and the road serpent was now traveling over stony broken flatlands. The wind was strong, and damp with the promise of rain.

  “I remember a hot, wet land,” said Danger. He was stretched out full-length, his black chin resting on his crossed paws. “I saw a black shape full of deadliness that was as graceful as flowing water. I wanted to know how it would feel to be so soft and yet so deadly, so I took its shape. That is when the humans caught me in their nets. They caged me, and I forgot the truth of myself. I knew only a savage boredom that made me want to kill. I did not remember what I was until Sly freed me.”

  “Why did she free you?” wondered Wander.

  “I do not know,” Danger said. “I meant to kill her, for she taunted me and called me a fool and a coward when I would not help her to free me. She clawed at me with her words until I told her all I knew about the she-human who had the key to my cage. Once Sly had stolen the key, neither of us could use it. So Sly went to get a monkey, but when she came back, the lemur was with her. I would like to know why she freed me. When I return, I will ask her.”

  The pace of the road serpent changed, and the swift clackety-clack became a slower click-click-clack, click-click-clack. The wander rose. “We must ready ourselves for the leap from the road serpent’s belly,” he announced.

  Heart hammering, Little Fur shook the lemur awake. He flinched from her hands, his red eyes shining with madness and confusion. Then Little Fur began to rouse the lemmings, urging them to waken others. At last they were all gathered by the opening.

  As the train continued to slow, Wander said Danger must go first with Ofred on his back; then the lemmings should go in waves. Last of all, he and Little Fur would jump together. “When I say ‘go,’ there must be no hesitation,” he warned. “Anyone jumping too late will be killed, for the train speeds up again.”

  Little Fur was growing more and more nervous, but she was puzzled, too, because there was no sign of the great sea. Smelling her question, the wander said, “After the stone hills come the sand dunes, and then there is the sea. The rails do not go into the dunes, so we must jump onto the sand and walk the rest of the way.”

  As the train slowed almost to a stop at a sharp bend, Wander barked, “Go!” Danger leaped. Then the lemmings leaped, in wave after wave. Finally, only Wander and Little Fur were left.

  “Quick!” Wander said, and he jumped.

  Little Fur swallowed a great choking lump of terror, thought of Sorrow, and jumped after him. There was an endless moment in which she flew—or fell—through nothing. Then her head hit something hard and the world went dark.

  CHAPTER 9

  The Salten Sea

  Little Fur awoke to the sound of a great muffled roaring. The light in the clouds above was that of the end of the day. The wander was sitting beside her, but there was no sign of Ofred or Danger or the lemmings.

  “Where are the others?” she asked, struggling to sit up.

  “You knocked your head on a stone when you landed,” Wander said. “Danger and the lemmings have gone to the shore of the sea. Do you want to go down to them?”

  “What is that noise?” asked Little Fur, standing up.

  “It is the great sea,” Wander said.

  “The sea?” Little Fur cried in astonishment.

  Instead of speaking, the wander began to make his way up the white dunes, avoiding the long whipping strands of sea grass. Little Fur got to her feet and followed him. The sand was far softer than the little patches of coarse sand in the wilderness, and it squeaked under her feet. But then she reached the top of a rise and the sight of the great sea drove all else from her mind. Water ran from the land to the horizon before her, and the immensity of it seemed to speak some truth too huge for any single creature to understand.

  Brownie had spoken of waves, but none of his stories had prepared her for their huge, murmurous thunder or their compelling rhythm. In the fading light, Little Fur watched as the edge of the sea heaved up into a wave that toppled forward, curling with white foam as it crashed down upon the sand. Then it dragged itself massively back, drawing sand and weed and pebbles with it, leaving a spittle of foam hissing in its wake, only to thump down again. The movement was so enormous that Little Fur felt herself swaying, first toward the retreating sea, and then away as it roared back to her.

  Little Fur stood staring at the sea for a long time, the sticky dampness of the night air settling on her skin like wet spiderweb. At last she roused herself and looked along the shore, seeking the others. In one direction, the edge of the land stretched away to vanishing in a pale curve. In the other direction, there was an outcrop of black rocks, rising up against the velvet dimness of the clouded evening.

  It was several moments before Little Fur saw that Danger and Ofred were sitting on top of the rocks. Little Fur called out to them, and Danger leaped onto the sand and padded over to her. Ofred remained where he was, peering out at the horizon. A few of the lemmings were perched on the rocks around the lemur, watching him.

  “What is happening?” she shouted over the noise.

  “Ofred dreamed of waiting on the rocks,” Danger said.

  Little Fur felt a flicker of anger, but she was too weary to fight. “I don’t suppose he dreamed what we are waiting for?” she asked.

  “A gift,” Danger said. “A gift and a way.”

  As night settled in, most of the older lemmings went off to explore the mild land leading up to the seashore. It was green and inviting, and it seemed not to be the territory of any other animal for whom the lemmings might be prey. Wander went with them, saying that he would forage for food and find a source of water.

  Danger had told Little Fur that Ofred’s dream had included both himself and Little Fur, so Little Fur had spread out her father’s cloak on the dry sand farther up the beach and sat down to wait. Danger lay down beside her and fell asleep. Watching how the sea heaved and boiled in a ceaseless echo of the roiling clouds overhead, Little Fur felt dizzy and half hypnotized. She lay back on the cool sand beside Danger.

  Her thoughts drifted to Ginger and Crow, whose absence tugged at the link between them. She thought of Nobody in a cage somewhere; of Sly slinking down to spy on the Troll King; of the poor harling trapped under the round house; of Gem, who had taken on the terrible responsibility of becoming the Sett Owl; of Tillet the hare, guarding the small troll held captive in the wilderness, and of the seven ancient trees that kept the wilderness safe. She wondered yet again what the Troll King wanted with her green stone and if there was truly any real hope of finding the earth spirit.

  Without warning, Danger leaped into the air with a yowl.

  Little Fur sat up and found that the sea had crept darkly up the sand, almost to her toes. The panther stood just above the waterline, shaking his wet paws in disgust. As Littl
e Fur got to her feet, the clouds parted to reveal the arching vault of the night sky and its swirling glitter of stars just as the moon was rising. Little Fur caught her breath, for the moon was the same mad red as the lemur’s dreaming eyes. Then she saw that the rising moon had burnished a red-gold path on the heaving darkness of the sea, a path that ran all the way from the distant horizon to her own feet.

  “What is that?” the panther murmured, curiosity in his smoky voice. He had come to stand beside Little Fur.

  Little Fur looked at him, puzzled, but then she saw that he was not looking up at the moon. She followed the direction of his gaze and saw what had caught his attention: something dark and large and strangely shaped was moving along the shining moon path in the great sea.

  Little Fur tried to make out what sort of creature it was as it slowly came nearer. It seemed to her that it was not so much swimming as floating. It bobbed and drifted closer, vanishing occasionally behind a wave. All at once, Little Fur understood that it was not a creature she was seeing, but a tree—uprooted and floating in the water, its branches rising up at one end and its root net at the other. There was something caught in the branches, and the closer the dead tree floated, the more it looked to Little Fur as if a large white sheet of ice was wedged there.

  Surely ice would melt? she thought. I must be mistaken.

  A movement caught her eye, and she saw that Ofred had risen up onto his hind legs, with his arms outstretched. He had either not noticed or did not care that the water was still rising! Little Fur ran toward the half-submerged isthmus of rocks, which was all that now connected his rocky island to the sandy shore.

  “Ofred!” Little Fur shouted.

  Instead of answering her, Ofred lowered his arms, stepped forward, and vanished!

  Little Fur gasped and clambered over the slippery black rocks until she reached the place where the lemur had been sitting. It overlooked a wedge-shaped inlet, which was not visible except from directly above it. Several lemmings were making their way down to where the lemur was perched on a narrow ledge jutting out from the side of the inlet.

  As Little Fur climbed very carefully after them, she glanced out to sea. The moon path had shifted and led directly into the inlet. And the floating tree had turned and was coming toward the inlet, roots first, as if it meant to plant itself sideways into the land.

  “The gift must be taken before it is withdrawn,” Ofred chanted feverishly, stretching out his black paws.

  Little Fur noticed in alarm that the tree had begun to drift to one side, and would miss the inlet gap. Without thinking, she plunged into the water. It was far deeper than she was tall, and she went under into the gritty churn of the tide. To her amazement, she discovered that although earth magic did not flow through the great sea, some other potent force did!

  Little Fur was astounded at the sheer strength of the power raging about her. She thought again of Ofred’s words: The gift must be taken before it is withdrawn. Ignoring the salt water trying to force its way down her throat, she threw out her hands again and again, her feet naturally treading water and holding her up. She moved forward until she caught two solid fistfuls of stiff tree roots.

  Little Fur could feel the power in the water tugging at the tree, which was now loosely wedged at the mouth of the inlet. Her trollish stubbornness gave her the courage to find a foothold against the stone and hold the tree in its position so that it could not be sucked out and away. Then a wave washed in and pushed the tree straight into the inlet, wedging it firmly in place. Gasping, Little Fur paddled back to the stone ledge, where several of the younger lemmings waited.

  Little Fur dragged herself up onto the ledge and saw that Ofred had leaped onto the tree. He ran along its gnarled and pitted trunk to its branches, where the white thing that Little Fur had thought was ice was jammed. The notice was some sort of flat, smooth, human-made stuff. It was lodged in the branches along with tufts of grass and other human debris.

  “What is it?” Danger demanded, looking down from the rocks.

  “It is flotsam,” said Silk, who was among the lemmings who had remained with Ofred.

  “It is the way,” sang the lemur. He looked miserable.

  “You dreamed of the tree?” Little Fur asked Ofred.

  “I dreamed of riding upon it.”

  “Upon?” Little Fur echoed. “You dreamed of yourself riding on the tree?”

  “I saw us. We three,” Ofred said, and his eyes went from Little Fur up to Danger. “And the small ones.” He looked down at Silk and the other lemmings. Then he turned to the sea. “Out there,” he added, almost absently.

  CHAPTER 10

  Flotsam

  “The tree can be a raft!” said Wander enthusiastically. He had returned from his foraging with several of the lemmings.

  The lemmings had come to bid Little Fur and Ofred farewell on behalf of the rest. Most of them had decided to remain and make the safe, sandy shore their new territory.

  “What is a raft?” Little Fur asked, the tips of her ears tingling at the peculiar perilous odor of the word. She was afraid that she already knew the answer.

  “A raft is something that can be ridden over water. I knew a human youngling who made one from a small piece of this white stuff caught in the branches, and set it forth on the great sea. Perhaps it floats still. You will need a sail to catch the wind, so that it will move,” he added thoughtfully. “Your cloak will serve, Little Fur. It can be tied among the branches to catch the wind.” He looked at her and smiled. “Humans are always traveling over the great sea on road beasts that float.”

  Little Fur looked at Ofred, who had returned to sit on the ledge. He was rocking back and forth, occasionally swatting at the air as if fending off an invisible flying creature. Whenever his gaze fell on the sea, he shivered and chewed at his tail. Silk and the other lemmings who would follow him until the end remained faithfully by his side, grooming him.

  As for Danger, the shapeshifter was regarding the tufted tree and its slab of white stuff with loathing, black ears flat to his skull. Even his long, elegant tail was fluffed.

  Never were three less likely creatures supposed to journey, Little Fur thought with despair, turning to Ofred again. “You truly dreamed this? That we must ride on this out on the sea, and that it will bring us to the earth spirit?”

  The lemur looked into her eyes. “I dreamed that we will give ourselves to the sea.”

  Little Fur, not liking the sound of that at all, licked her lips, which tasted of tears. “Did you see where the sea will bring us? Do we come safe to land?”

  “We will come safe to ground, but beyond that land is the most dangerous place of all, for it is the maw of the great sea.” He shivered, closed his eyes, and began rocking back and forth again, singing softly to himself.

  Despite her frustration, Little Fur felt a surge of pity for the small tormented beast. He had spoken the truth when he said that they could choose whether or not to follow his dreams, but he had no choice about dreaming. The anger she had felt cooled, for what choice, truly, did she have either?

  Danger hissed and leaped down the rocks to the sandy shore. Little Fur followed to where he waited on the sand, his eyes two blazing yellow slits. He bared his teeth at her; they were white and sharp and long.

  “I cannot do this,” he snarled.

  “A cat could not,” she told him, “but you are not truly a cat.”

  The panther reared up. “What use will it be to find I can shift shapes if I am only to choose the shape in which to die?” he demanded fiercely.

  “Ofred did not dream that we would die,” Little Fur said. “He dreamed that if we three went, we would come safe to land.”

  “He said that beyond the land, which is not safe, is the most dangerous place of all,” said Danger. “He would not have mentioned it if we did not have to go there. And he saw we would be swallowed by the sea!”

  “Sounds to me that he dreamed all three of you would give yourselves to the sea,” Wander
said, ambling over to join them.

  “His dreams will not cage me!” snarled Danger, his tail lashing back and forth.

  “I think the only one caged by his dreams is that poor little fellow,” said Wander calmly, glancing at Ofred. “And his dreams don’t decide. They just show him what you will decide. But one thing I know is that a raft must go out when the sea goes out. By my reckoning, this tide is near to turning, and if you want to go out with it, the tree-raft will have to be made ready and moved enough so it can float free of the inlet. Unless you want to wait a whole flock of hours until the tide is right again?”

  Little Fur took a deep breath and turned back to Danger. “You want to be able to change shapes again, and I need to rejoin the flow of earth magic. I don’t know how this journey can possibly bring us to the earth spirit, but the Sett Owl said it would, just as she said the lemmings would find a new territory.”

  Danger growled deep in his throat and said, “Even if I come, this shape has a great terror of water. I do not know if I can master it enough to get on the raft.”

  “Wander is right. If Ofred has dreamed of us on the raft, you will master your fear,” said Little Fur.

  The moon had set by the time they finished their preparations. Little Fur’s cloak was tied to a thick upstanding branch and folded up, ready to be unfolded and tied to another when they wished to catch the wind. She had also tied onto the same branch a number of lengths of coarse twine that Wander had found; he said that if the sea was rough, they might be glad of them. They ate some of the food Wander had found; the rest was pushed into a dry hole at the top of the tree trunk.

  A strange soft gourd, as clear as the water that now filled it, was caught in the branches. It smelled bad, as did the white stuff caught in the branches of the tree, but Little Fur was glad they had it, for they would need fresh water. No matter what happened, they must not drink of the great sea, lest its wildness enter them and make them mad. So Brownie had once told her, and so Wander had confirmed.