The Missing Link

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The Missing Link Page 16

by David Tysdale


  Amanda flipped open a notebook and pulled out a copy of her original report. There was an A messily scrawled on the top right corner.

  "Wow. That must have been some arguing."

  "Didn't need to. Before I even had a chance to explain, he changed my mark."

  "Does he do that a lot? I thought Professor Rizzo was kind of--"

  "A rusty link? Guess he had second thoughts."

  "I suppose. Anyway, I'd best be going. Lots to do."

  The twins were sitting at the kitchen table when Carole walked in. "You didn't wait."

  "The staring was getting a bit much," Lilly said.

  "I'm the one they're staring at," Zack said. "You're just trying to avoid Amanda. So, are you checking out the cave tonight, Carole?"

  "Change in plans. Philamount wants me to see if the faeries might know what's going on."

  "You leaving now?"

  "Yup."

  "Here." Lilly handed Carole a couple of muffins from a plate. "And dress warm."

  "Yes, mom."

  Zack tossed Carole a sweater. "Same drill as before?"

  "I've gone for a walk and you've no idea when I'll be back."

  "So true."

  "See ya, then."

  She climbed to the loft, tossed her rucksack with her school supplies onto her bed and checked that her whistle wand was still hanging around her neck. Satisfied she concentrated for a moment and vanished.

  Lilly glanced out the window. Two people were midway across the school field and walking towards the cottage. "Oh no, it's Carole's parents."

  "Let's sneak out the back."

  "No, we'd better hear them out."

  The knock came a minute later. Lilly opened the door.

  Judith Sylphwood looked down at her. "We wish to speak with our daughter."

  "She's not here," Zack said from behind Lilly's shoulder. "Out," he added unnecessarily.

  "When do you expect her back?"

  "Can't say," Lilly said, while holding the door half closed. "She's probably working on some assignment. You know her workload."

  "I see."

  "Is there a message?"

  "I want... That is, we'd like for Carole to return home."

  "We'll let her know." Lilly gave the door a little push, hoping they'd take the hint and leave.

  Mr. Sylphwood shuffled his feet, but stayed in the same place. Mrs. Sylphwood cleared her throat several times.

  "Is there anything else?" Lilly said.

  "We're hoping that she could see fit to return by tomorrow. Tonight in fact."

  "We'll tell her when we see her. Anything else?"

  Judith Sylphwood's gaze flicked between Lilly and Zack. "We just want her to be safe and happy."

  "Of course. Well, have a pleasant day." Lilly closed the door.

  Zack peeked out the window. "They're not moving," he whispered. "She's just standing there. Now they're talking. She doesn't look very happy. Oh good, they're leaving." He stepped away from the window. "What do you suppose that was all about?"

  "The town hall is tomorrow."

  "Yeah?"

  "It's going to be pretty embarrassing when word gets around that the famous Carole Sylphwood can't stand to live under the same roof as her parents."

  --29--

  Carole landed on a stone dais at the edge of a towering forest of silver oak trees. It was evening, but the land was aglow from the light of twin moons. The trees shimmered from a gentle breeze that carried with it the sound of laughter and music.

  Before Carole could move, a flight of faeries burst into the open and swirled over the ground. One faerie swooped close, squealed at the sight of her, and dashed back to the woods. The others quickly followed, and the music ended abruptly.

  She sat on the edge of the platform to wait. Before long, a dozen serious-looking faeries, armed with bows and arrows, slipped from the cover of the trees and fanned out in a line facing her. Their arrows were notched and ready, though not as yet pointed directly at her. She remained relaxed, yet alert.

  Next appeared a comical looking sprite with long spiked hair and a wild purple outfit. He strode through the trees waving his arms and barking commands, and was totally ignored by the archers. Behind him flew a stunning being in a shimmering gown. She wore a sparkling circlet upon her head. She took one look at Carole and smiled radiantly.

  "Wrinkletoes, cease your mad mutterings. Doth not you recognize our very own Carole of the Sylphwood? She hath returned to us." The faerie swept past the archers and flew over to embrace Carole. "You are a most comely sight, my dear. Welcome to our glen. Welcome to the land of the Silvering Oak."

  "Princess Glistlefern." Carole smiled, relieved to have found the faerie so easily.

  "I knew you would succeed with your quest, young Sylphwood. Your subtle sight had awakened and your song was pure and strong. "

  "I think my success had more to do with luck and your gifts."

  "Luck is nothing more than the correct interpretation of the weaves of light."

  "Then I thank you for that ability."

  "It was your own ability, dear child. I merely quickened the pace of your learning."

  Settling lightly onto the dais, the faerie focused her gaze on Carole's forehead.

  Carole felt a tingling pressure between her eyes.

  The princess softened her gaze moments later. "You hath indeed grown much since we last met."

  "But still not tethered to a tunnel," the spiked-haired faerie added as he bounded onto the platform. "A hub witch without her spider's silk doth seem counter to the natural ways."

  "Not to me, Counselor Wrinkletoes," Carole said, "although I'd rather it not be common knowledge amongst the other multitaskers, at least for the time being."

  "You surround yourself with deep mysteries, Carole of the Sylphwood, but my silence in this matter is a certainty." Wrinkletoes bowed formally, his nose dusting the stone.

  "And how are things here? Is the Pale One still...?"

  Wrinkletoes glanced skyward. There was no sign of the large, pale moon. "She hath returned to earlier pursuits and is no longer a harbinger of gloom. The spheres are joyous once again, much thanks to you, honored guest."

  "Please dear cousin, join us," the princess said. "We were enjoying evening frivolities when you arrived with such stealth. I felt not the tremor of a single light cord announcing your presence."

  "I don't understand." Carole touched the top of her head. "Doesn't the Link of Recognition work?"

  "The crown of night blooms still pulses softly upon your brow, but in our realm yours is but one light amongst thousands. The true value of the Link is to be found when you cross paths with the Fay whilst on your travels amongst the spheres."

  "Faeries live in other dimensions?"

  The princess nodded. "Multitaskers are not the only beings capable of dimensional travel." Princess Glistlefern extended a hand to Carole and, with Wrinkletoes as escort, led her across the glen. The archers were no longer visible, though Carole saw traces of movement within the forest.

  A solid gust shook the nearest tree and Carole hesitated.

  "Fear not the silvering oaks," Wrinkletoes said. "They too hath remembered themselves and are with us once again." He flew a quick circle around the tree, settled upon a low branch and pressed his ear to the trunk. "Her song is pure and sweet." Councilor Wrinkletoes flew back to Carole and, taking her hand, led her beneath the branches.

  She expected it to be dark within the forest, but the thick trunks of burnished silver and the sparkling silver-green canopy reflected so much moonlight that it gave the appearance of early morning. The ground was coated in a soft verdant carpet of moss, through which a shallow stream meandered. Tiny cottages perched upon the banks of the stream. Most were simple structures of branch and vine, though many were adorned with decorative weaves of silver or flecks of sparkling stone.

  Carole was taken to a tiny clearing in the middle of which sat a dead, gnarled oak. As they neared, she realized that the tre
e was actually an ornately carved throne. Princess Glistlefern stopped in front of this throne and turned. Carole did likewise and gasped. The clearing was full of the most exotic and colorfully dressed creatures she could have imagined. Even Wrinkletoes and his wild purple outfit paled in comparison to some.

  The princess chuckled at Carole's amazement. "Word travels fast amongst the Fay. Our celebration hath tripled in number since your arrival." Raising her arms the princess spoke loudly. "Children of the silvering oak. We have been honored this evening with a visit from a most special guest. Behold and welcome Carole of the Sylphwood, the Hub witch responsible for ending the Great Conundrum and for freeing us from that mantle of fear beneath which we did so long suffer. Let us prepare a feast befitting our most welcome heroine."

  The gathered crowd burst into life, with faeries skipping, dancing and flying off in chaotic merriment. Princess Glistlefern settled onto her throne and indicated a smaller seat that resembled an ornately carved toadstool. "Please, Carole."

  Seated, Carole watched the frenetic activity for a while before speaking. "So the oaks and others are no longer affected by the Pale One's madness?"

  "The madness hath left and The Pale One is once again a playful kitten chasing the Sisters across the heavens."

  "And everything's back to normal?"

  "The normal pulses and weaves of light hath returned."

  "No leftover effects? No dangers?"

  "There hath always been dangers within our realm. Creatures the wise seek to avoid."

  Carole nodded. "Cave sprites and wood trolls."

  The princess stared. "You hath indeed arrived with a tale to tell. Though greatly diminished in power, denizens of their ilk still pose a threat to the foolish and unwary."

  "But they're nothing out of the ordinary?"

  "Ahum." A cluster of faeries had assembled in front of Carole.

  "Yes?" Princess Glistlefern said.

  "We wish to bestow our appreciation upon Carole of the Sylphwood."

  "Please do."

  Two of the sprites stepped forward, carrying a tiny crystal vial between them. They held it up.

  "Thank you," she said, taking the container.

  The group bowed reverently before flying off amidst an explosion of giggles.

  She looked questioningly at princess Glistlefern.

  "If I'm not mistaken, it contains an elixir powerful enough to convince even the most stubborn of greenery to burst forth in blossom. But use it sparingly. A single drop will bring an entire meadow into bloom. That is indeed a most precious gift."

  "But why?"

  "Because you have given us a most precious gift, Carole. The gift of light."

  "Ahum." A second group stood before Carole. They looked like the archers who had faced her earlier.

  "I see the Forest Guard does not wish to be outdone by the Flower Sprites. You have no fear of leaving our wood empty-handed, this night," the princess said.

  Carole noticed two more groups standing behind the Forest Guard. "There's no way to avoid all this?"

  The princess chuckled. "None at all, nor should you wish to. Great deeds need be properly acknowledged."

  "It's not like I had any choice at the time."

  "Choice or not, you accomplished what no other could. Is that not reason enough to celebrate?"

  "But there's something I need to--"

  "We shall talk, after the gathering," the princess said, with a knowing look.

  The Forest Guard presented Carole with a beautiful, though wicked-looking blade wrought of silver, and a sheath fashioned from the bark of a silvering oak. Two of the guard showed her how to strap the blade to her inner thigh, where it would remain out of sight but readily available should she ever have need.

  "A weapon?" Carole said, after the Guard had left.

  "Like a porcupine's quills, a good blade can oft prevent conflict."

  The next group gave Carole a bolt of shimmering cloth.

  "Now this I know I can use," she smiled, folding the cloth and placing it in the accompanying reed basket.

  Her final gift was a thick coil of silver, resembling a leafy vine.

  "Tis a decorative band when wrapped high up the arm," the princess explained, "but slide it down to your wrist and it becomes a guard capable of deflecting the slash of another's blade."

  "Why do I get the feeling I'm being prepared for battle?"

  Princess Glistlefern's eyes twinkled, but instead of answering she nodded towards two attendants approaching with platters of food.

  Carole recognized the pair from her previous encounter with the faeries. "Thornblower and Lukie!"

  With the arrival of the food, the gathered faeries began to feast in earnest. At least that's what the princess said they were doing. To Carole it looked more like a wild game of chase. Only she, the princess, counselor Wrinkletoes and a few of the more elderly-looking Fay actually sat still long enough to eat something.

  In time the celebration shifted to other parts of the wood. At that point the princess stood and motioned for Carole to follow. She led her to a hillock from which the stream erupted as a bubbling cascade. Princess Glistlefern settled onto a thick mat of moss beside the water and Carole kneeled next to her.

  "Now, as to the purpose for your visit, Carole. A purpose not all that delightful, if I've read your lights correctly."

  Carole ran her fingers through the icy water. "No. My teacher, Professor Philamount, believes something's still wrong at the Hub, even though the tunnels have all been fixed. He's hoping you'll know what's going on."

  The princess made no comment.

  "He says yours is a very ancient and wise race, and you probably understand about such things."

  Princess Glistlefern watched the waterfall for a time. "The Fay hath many ancient memories..."

  "Which you don't necessarily wish to share."

  She gave a sad little smile. "It is not that simple, Carole. Knowledge and wisdom do not necessarily attend each other."

  "I guess I can't blame you. If I were you, I'd think twice about trusting anyone from the Hub, after what the Conundrum did."

  "But you are not just anyone. You are linked to the Fay and hath done us great service at great personal risk. If we are not to trust you, Carole, there is none to be trusted. So what of this thing that is not right?"

  "I guess the best word for it would be discord. People are still acting...off, at least according to Professor Philamount. And the other day I discovered a natural tunnel that leads to a Dark realm."

  The faerie gasped.

  "I've been there before, that Dark realm. It's ruled by something cold and evil."

  The princess's voice was tight. "You hath observed that vileness for yourself?"

  "I've fought with it, if the truth be told. It's really quite nasty."

  Princess Glistlefern's eyes grew wide. And then she burst into laughter. "Please do not misconstrue my mirth," she said quickly, "but this entity haunts our oldest nightmares, and yet you speak of it as you would an unpleasant neighbor. You really are quite remarkable."

  "I wouldn't know about that, but Professor Philamount thinks this Dark realm might have something to do with our continuing problems."

  The princess nodded deeply and slowly, as if she were recalling some old memory.

  "It's not there all the time, the tunnel. It comes and goes, but it's not like the others."

  "You are aware of other such tunnels?"

  "I've traveled through a few of them, but they're different, more colorful, like rainbows. And this dark tunnel sort of lured me away; at least I think it did. I'm not really sure. It happened so fast. It couldn't have sensed me, known that I was there?"

  "Perhaps it is time," the princess said softly, as if to herself.

  "Time?"

  "All things occur in their time, Carole. We oft believe it to be otherwise, but time is the ocean and we merely vessels that sail upon its currents. You hath indeed stumbled upon some ancient truths, as ancient as
time itself. Tell me are all Hub witches aware of such things?"

  "I don't believe so. Professor Philamount knows some, but I'm the only one who can see the tunnels."

  "It is possible the linking gave you this sight, but more likely it strengthened a talent that was already within. As to the reason for these tunnels, that is a tale of beginnings, the beginnings of light and song. When the various realms came into being they did so not in isolation but as a family."

  Princess Glistlefern ran her hand over the ground. "Much like this moss upon which we now sit. Each tendril, though reaching up as a solitary finger, is in fact connected to the others in a complex weave of root and fiber. So it is with the realms. Your dimension, Carole, is a part of our dimension as ours is a part of yours.

  "On occasion a realm will find itself in need and will call out to another. The asking is known as the music of the spheres, and the receiving is by way of a tunnel. In this way balance and harmony hath been maintained. However darkness is also part of existence. Though oft in the ancient past when the Dark realm called to its kin, it was ignored and left in lack. So out of necessity, the ruler of that realm learned to take what it needed."

  "The dark tunnel!"

  "Normally a tunnel travels from the realm of plenty to the realm of need, yet this tunnel does the reverse."

  "But what has any of this to do with the Hub? What has the Hub got that the Dark realm needs?"

  "Like a slighted sibling, darkness is not above a little mischief. When in the far past, Hub witches discovered the connecting tunnels and learned to build their own, they did so whilst disregarding the natural rhythms and trusting in their own abilities to keep all in balance. For a time they were successful, and the benefits to your kin were indeed great.

  "However through arrogance and forgetfulness, that understanding was lost and the responsibility to the dimensions forgotten. In time the balance was undone, strife ensued and the Great Conundrum resulted. And it would not be incorrect in saying that the Dark realm lent a hand with this undoing. Darkness thrives on discord, and you Hub witches became the ideal vessels to spread that discord to other realms."

 

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