Cathadeus_Book One of the Walking Gates

by Jeff J. Peters

  He looked again as they continued, smiling at Ruskin’s grumblings about entering “these cursed woods” and how he never should’ve agreed to go on this journey. He stared farther into the forest, beyond the outermost perimeter and deeper into the emerald green. Then he saw what Phinlera’s sharper eyes had noticed—a silvery mist interspersed with layers of green and brown, like leaves caught in a gentle breeze, flowing between the large oaks in a rhythmic pattern. It covered the entire height of the forest and rippled like water, sparkling here and there in the sunlight. Patches of the woods seemed to appear and disappear so as to create the illusion of seeing farther into the trees than was actually possible. Brax watched as they drew closer, realizing he couldn’t see past the outer layer of the forest. The netting formed an impenetrable barrier, preventing outsiders from seeing beyond a dozen feet.

  “What’s that layer of mist between the trees?” he called out to Rusk.

  The dwarf stopped and looked at the forest, shaking his head before turning toward them.

  “They call it the feil, the forest’s shroud—magical weavings by the elves and trees or other such nonsense,” he grumbled. “It blocks sight into Arbor Loren, and anyone who tries to pass through it becomes ensnared, like a

  fly in a spider’s web. It’s one of the reasons I hate this place.”

  The road continued on, reaching a small opening at the edge of the central Andorah forest that extended into the trees a hundred feet or more. The feil lay on either side, allowing their path to continue unhindered. Two giant oaks stood like sentinels beside the road as it crossed into Arbor Loren. Guardians to the entrance of the great elven kingdom, they extended above the canopy, with wooden platforms in their uppermost branches. At the end of the road, two more enormous trees, which Brax guessed to be fifty feet or more across and over five hundred feet tall, towered high above their neighbors, marking the gateway into Almon-Sen.

  They crossed the threshold without stopping, passing the outermost watchtowers unrestricted. Still they saw no sign of the elves. Ruskin strode ahead confidently now, but Brax and Phinlera trailed behind, searching the forest and admiring its immense size. Braxton glanced at the trees encompassing them on either side of the road, each more than a hundred feet tall, their branches extending outward like giant’s fingers to touch their neighbors. Where these overlapped, wooden tendrils intertwined, forming a continuous connection from one great oak to the next, creating an endless pathway wide enough for a man to walk upon.

  As he marveled at the formations, he became keenly aware that he was being watched. Then he saw them. Elven bowmen standing motionless along the walkways like extensions of the trees themselves. The colors of their cloaks, like the forest around them, changed in response to the light filtering down through the canopy. He could feel their penetrating gaze from beneath their hooded coverings, sensing the intrusion, questioning their presence.

  Approaching the great doorway at the end of the road, Brax noticed how, high above, the branches of the two magnificent oaks interconnected to form a path along which platforms were intermingled. Twenty feet from where their road ended, Ruskin stopped, unslung his pack and dropped it to the ground. He raised his hands to show he was unarmed. Braxton and Phinlera did the same.

  “We come out of the west beyond the Vales.” Ruskin spoke loudly at the entrance to the elven forest. “To meet with Bendarren. Our need is great, and we seek passage into your woodland realm.”

  There was no response. They waited, searching the great oaks, but no one appeared.

  After a few moments, the dwarf added, “We carry the essence of one of your own, and it is urgent we find Bendarren. Grant us passage to Almon-Sen.”

  Still nothing.

  “How is it that a dwarf knows the name of Bendarren Elestera?” came a sudden reply.

  There, standing between the two great oaks, was an elven warrior, who seemed to materialize from the trees themselves. One minute they were staring at the forest, and the next he simply stood in front of them. As tall as Braxton, his ash-blond hair ran like liquid gold to his slim shoulders, sparkling whenever the afternoon light fell upon it. Intense green eyes accentuated his narrow face and high cheekbones that angled slightly toward a defined chin. Two small, pointed ears protruded from his hair, and a long, braided strand hung down from his left temple.

  Ruskin bowed respectfully, then touched the fingers of his right hand to the center of his chest, then to his forehead, before extending outward, palm up, in a gesture of peace and greeting. The elf didn’t respond but just scrutinized the dwarf. Braxton and Phinlera quickly followed Ruskin’s example.

  “I ask you again,” the elf said, “how is it that you know the name of one of our people? For such things are rarely given.” He cast his forest-green cloak over one shoulder, revealing a brown tunic inlaid with silver thread that glistened whenever he moved. His lighter green trousers were tucked into high, soft boots laced to the knees, and a longbow, made of a deep-forest wood, was strapped across his back, its white-feathered arrows protruding from a quiver above the opposite shoulder.

  “We were sent to find him by one of your own. A young elfling named Jen Prinn fights death. The boy here carries her essence.”

  “That name no longer has meaning to us. She is an outcast woman who abandoned her people’s deepest beliefs to join with a human,” the elf said in disgust, looking Braxton up and down.

  “That woman is my mother,” Brax replied quickly, stepping forward, angered by the elf’s lack of respect. “And she needs Bendarren’s help.”

  “So, you carry her essence with you,” he answered. “Very well. If you want to enter Arbor Loren and carry her disgrace upon your shoulders, that’s your business. But proving what you say is true is mine. Before you can enter our kingdom, I will look into your mind and see if what you tell me is indeed the reason for your coming. If I find you speak the truth, I will allow you passage. If not . . .” He raised his right hand to show two fingers. There was a sudden whoosh in the air, and a half-dozen arrows rained down from the trees to land in a circular formation around the surprised visitors.

  Ruskin backed away quickly, his hand instinctively going for the falchion. Then he stopped, realizing what he was doing, and lifted both hands again to show that he had no intention of fighting.

  The elf seemed amused. “A wise choice.” He turned to Braxton. “Do I have your consent?”

  “You do.”

  Do not reveal me, Serene said. Focus on the Min attack.

  He was about to respond when he realized the elf had already entered his thoughts. It was not abrasive or intrusive or clumsily done. Unlike the experience he’d had with Zacharias in Falderon, this was subtle, delicate, and artfully achieved. The elf was there before Braxton could react, moving through his mind like an extension of his own thoughts, a gentle breeze that carried with it a presence easily missed.

  Frantically he tried to think of something to counter the intrusion and fixated on Phinlera. His desire for her ran plainly through his mind, and the feelings she awoke in him echoed louder than the ringing of a gong. He scrambled to control his thoughts, trying to hide his desires, but it was too late, and the elf smirked at Brax’s feeble attempt to divert his attention. Braxton took several deep breaths. He closed his eyes and focused on blanking his mind, as Serene had taught him. For a moment it worked, and his mental canvas cleared, emptying his palette.

  Well done, he heard the elf say. Now I will talk with your mother.

  Before Braxton could respond, the elf’s presence reached into the very depths of his mind to the exact place where his mom’s essence waited. There he connected with her. It was a strange and intrusive sensation that Braxton fought to repel, but the elf brushed him aside, like clearing a gnat.

  It’s all right, Brax, he heard his mom say. It was the first time she’d spoken since leaving Oak Haven, and a wave of emotion welled up inside him. He sniffed and swallowed to remove the lump in his throat, relieved to find her st
ill with him.

  Hello, Gaelen. She turned her attention to the elf. You seem well.

  So it is true then, he replied. The elfling who abandoned us has returned.

  Braxton felt them connect then in a distant way, as if merely catching the echo of something he once knew. They conversed quickly, a strange and silent communication that transcended words but was rich in its distinct exchange of emotions and images. It was an entirely unique experience, having these two people communicate in his mind, using his body for their meeting place, catching only glimpses of the thoughts and feelings he couldn’t see but could only feel. It reminded him of being back home in his bedroom, listening to his parents’ quiet conversations when they thought he was asleep. Yet entirely different somehow, as if the feelings and pictures running through him carried a deeper meaning filled with expression and intent, relaying through emotions a complete history that words alone could never convey.

  He could feel Gaelen’s resentment toward his mom. Yet it was more than that—a sense of disgrace or even personal injury at her leaving them and abandoning their ways. But Brax understood why she’d had to go. Bendarren had foreseen the need for his mother to leave their woodland realm and to marry an outsider, believing that one day her offspring would return to Arbor Loren, changing it forever.

  He witnessed how the elven mentor had visited her inside a beautiful oak covered with soft pink flowers, telling his mom to forsake her people, to separate from their immortality, and to leave the protection of their woodland home. He experienced the grief she’d suffered in accepting his words and her pain at separating from her tree, a life she’d loved beyond her own. Forbidden to disclose her directive, he endured her degradation by the elves when she announced her intentions, lived through her agony of departing from the forest she adored, and felt the abandonment of the people she loved. Overcome by her emotions as she rode away in that small wagon beside the man he now knew to be his father, Brax felt her entire life with his dad, and the sorrow for the life she’d lost—aware of its complex story through the burst of a single impression, like comprehending a detailed book by merely touching its cover.

  The sheer sadness of her experience was a complete emotional drain for Brax. He wanted nothing more than to break down and cry for her loss, for the choices she’d been asked to make. But he was denied relief from the feelings bottled up inside him. He just stood there, a distant participant in their conversation, overwhelmed by the emotional echoes of their exchange, transfixed somehow by their joining, this elf and his mom.

  When the connection finally ended, Braxton fell to the ground and wept. He cried for what she’d endured, for the weight she’d carried for so long and how well she’d hidden it from him. He wept for how deeply she’d loved her people and for her endless longing for her tree, wounds cut deeper into her consciousness than any physical harm the Mins could have inflicted. He felt connected to his mom in a way he’d never imagined possible, having within seconds shared her entire life’s story, her very deepest regrets, reliving in their entirety all her emotional pain. For the first time, Braxton Prinn finally understood his mother.

  I think at last I understand you, the elf said, when Braxton had cried himself out. He was speaking openly within Brax’s mind, communicating with his mom. You have suffered much in your choice, Jenlyrindien, but you are free now. His voice was kind, entirely opposite in tone from their initial meeting. It would be my honor to escort you back to Bendarren Elestera, and, more than that, to uphold your return to our people. He inclined his head.

  Thank you, Gaelen. Brax’s mom’s reply was both joyful and sad. Then I am truly home.

  Chapter 20

  They passed through the gates of Almon-Sen and entered Arbor Loren at last, twelve days after leaving Oak Haven. Gaelen led them beneath the great archway of enfolding oaks, giant guardians that watched their crossing like sentient beings, silently recording their passage.

  Ruskin followed behind, his eyes flicking this way and that at every sound, like a badger suspicious of entering a trap, knowing his only way out was slowly closing behind him.

  They continued among the trees and passed unknowingly into the feil. All light and sound vanished. Braxton felt completely alone, as if he’d been picked up and dropped into the middle of a dark and turbulent ocean that he could neither see nor hear, feeling only a peculiar current pulling him toward some unknown fate. He shivered in the silent void, aware that there was no longer any warmth left in the world. Fear and panic overwhelmed him, and he instinctively wanted to flee. He looked about for something with which to identify—a shape, a color, a sound—but there was nothing. Nothing to give him any reason for hope, and he floated about in the cold, naked and lost.

  Then a light split the dark, bright and vibrant, dispersing the gloom. There stood Serene, her unicorn form surrounded by a brilliant and all-encompassing radiance, banishing the void.

  Come, she said, stretching her head out to touch his face, dispelling his fear and calming his mind. He wrapped his arms around her long muscular neck, letting her lead him on, unaware and uncaring of the direction they went.

  Feeling warmth on his face, Braxton opened his eyes and blinked. He stood alone in a beautiful glade of emerald green, with little white flowers growing in patches of sunlight that filtered down from the canopy. He breathed in deeply, washing away the darkness of the feil’s nightmarish experience. Phinlera appeared, stumbling amid her own visions he cared not to know. She thrashed about for a moment before stopping to look up at the sun. Ruskin emerged seconds later, swinging his arms wildly before realizing he too was free.

  “I hate the feil!” he said.

  “Come.” Gaelen appeared from across the clearing. “We have a long walk tonight.” He offered them his waterskin and several small, round cakes. Braxton felt as if he was tasting food for the first time. Rich earthly spices mixed lightly with the sweetness of honey filled his palate, enticing his senses and invigorating his body.

  They left the glade following a trail that only Gaelen’s eyes could see, allowing them to walk unhindered along the woodland floor. Winding among the giant oaks, they passed unaware to the south of Almon-Sen. Night descended, and an endless sky of twinkling stars burst above them, visible through the canopy. A chorus of night birds took up their callings, and an exquisite elven voice joined the choir from afar, gradually increasing in strength and cadence to come forward and lead the symphony. Walking behind Phin, Brax realized that the voice was not coming from any one person but from the perfect blend of hundreds or perhaps even thousands of elves all singing together. He’d never heard anything quite so beautiful, wanting both to laugh and cry at the same time. As the sound reached its climax, the spirit magic awoke. Pulsating inside of him and growing stronger, it flowed through his body in waves of rhythmic, uplifting energy.

  The music began to fade, and with it, the energy receded. It left Braxton feeling exhilarated, as though he’d touched energy for the first time, reaching completely across the bounds of the physical world and into pure spirit, drinking from its endless spring.

  He was still enjoying the wondrous sensation when he realized that the others had stopped walking and that Gaelen was staring at him. The elf smiled, a peaceful and radiant gesture. He nodded at Brax in apparent understanding, as if something he’d been struggling with was suddenly made clear. Then he turned and led them away.

  * * *

  Hours past midnight, they entered a small clearing deep in the heart of Arbor Loren. An enormous tree stood opposite, matching the ones guarding the entrance to the elven kingdom. A small cottage fronted the magnificent oak, its back disappearing into the trunk as though the home itself was an extension of the giant structure. Small platforms were visible among the varying levels of the branches, some with walls on one or two sides or protected by a low railing.

  Standing among the wildflowers and bathed in the light of the moon was an elf, dressed in a beautiful blue robe of interwoven silver leaves. His s
traight, white hair hung down past his shoulders and a long, thin nose and narrow, pointed chin defined his features. It was his deep-blue eyes, however, that reflected his wisdom. Braxton realized that this was a man who knew much about the world, as if life’s infinite history could be read from within his gaze.

  He recognized him immediately. That same masterful presence he had felt during his mom’s experience with Gaelen.

  This was Bendarren.

  Approaching slowly, their elven guide raised a hand, signaling for them to stop.

  “Welcome,” Bendarren said, his voice both firm and soft. “I am Bendarren Elestera, keeper of this grove. I’ve been awaiting your coming.”

  Braxton and the others introduced themselves. They bowed to the elf in imitation of Gaelen’s lead and made the sign of greeting, ending with both arms open in a gesture of peace and friendship. The elven elder returned the motion, inclining his head.

  Braxton stepped forward. “My mother is dying.” He explained what had happened, taking a deep breath before describing her wound and unconscious state. Removing the necklace, he relayed how she had connected with him and her plea to return her essence to Arbor Loren. “This is the pendant,” he said, holding it up for the elf to see.

  Bendarren listened without interrupting. When Brax had finished, the elf let the silence hang in the air for a few moments before responding.

  “You’ve done well to come this far, but Jenlyrindien’s essence is fading, and her time is near. You must reach her tree in Arbor Glen and release her essence at first light, or she’ll be lost to us forever.”

  He looked at Braxton for a long time, his gaze penetrating deep into Brax’s eyes, as though seeing past his thoughts and into his very soul. Brax felt Serene move in the back of his mind and an unspoken word seemed to pass between her and the elf.