by Taylor Leigh
‘No, no, it’s all right. I’ll make myself scarce.’ She pushed herself to her feet and gazed down at him. ‘Are you all right?’
Andrew’s face shifted, growing distant. ‘I’m fine. There’s just…too many unanswered questions.’
He turned his back to her then, and Victoria realised she’d get no more out of him.
‘I’ll see you later then. Give Molly my respects. And get some rest. It’s a miracle you didn’t kill yourself as well,’ She ran her fingers through his hair gently.
Quietly she heard him mutter, ‘There’s no such thing as miracles.’ She sighed unhappily and turned for her room.
She sat for a long moment on her bed, too sad to be angry. She felt lost. And confused. Why had Molly died? Why couldn’t they find a body? What did the light mean and what was Tollin not saying?
Victoria had only been in her room about ten minutes before she came to the conclusion that she would not be able to stay there. She could not just sit back while the funeral was going on and do nothing. For some reason she kept thinking about the last thing Molly had really said, about wanting to go with Tollin. And thinking of that brought her to Tollin’s desire to explore the river across the lake, the one with the spores. Before she really knew what she was doing, Victoria was out of the lodge and marching down towards the lake.
The town was eerily deserted that morning. Most people were behind shuttered windows, preparing for the funeral, or still at Flotsen, far away from the troubles here. No-one stopped her or asked where she was going. The day was a grey one, the clouds misting slightly, the air growing cold. She was grateful for her shawl.
The idea of crossing the choppy lake by herself hadn’t really hit her full force till she was halfway to the water, and as she looked at the tossing waves, she felt her stomach churn. She still didn’t know how to swim, and she’d only been out in a boat a handful of times. The opposite shore was a long distance away, especially with nothing but a paddle fighting against the water and wind. She began to think that maybe she was a bit mental. Her body appeared to be refusing to take another step.
Her eyes darted round the deserted beach and landed on a small cabin off to the right of the beach. Without much consideration, Victoria felt her feet moving that direction.
Tollin stood, staring at the grey water, unmoving. His eyes were dark, but they held the only emotion on his face. They were black wells, full of such infinite knowledge and experiences, reminding her of the eyes of a sage. Looking into those eyes, it was hard to not feel as if Victoria were very small. He seemed as if he’d aged ten years since she last saw him. The lines round his eyes were deeper and his mouth was pulled down into a hard frown. She wondered how long he’d been there, just watching.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked timidly.
His dark eyes didn’t pull away from the water for a long time, but slowly they shifted towards her. A small smile pulled at his lips, one that didn’t meet his eyes. He sucked in a breath. ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’
Victoria nodded. She doubted Tollin was one who would ever share his emotions with anyone.
‘I heard the funeral is in a few hours.’ She wondered if he was invited, but decided not to ask.
‘Yes,’ Tollin said. ‘I’m sure they’ll all be down there on the beach soon, tossing in their roses.’
‘And you too, right? You’ll be there.’
‘No. I don’t do that sort of thing.’ His expression grew more brooding, if that were possible.
She blinked. ‘You’re not going? But you two were so close!’
Tollin shook his head again. ‘No.’ By his tone, Victoria knew to leave the subject alone.
She shifted uncomfortably. ‘Well, I’ll see you later, then.’
He frowned and leaned against the wooden railing. ‘And where are you off to?’
Victoria bit her lip and glanced back at the lodge. ‘I don’t think they really want me here for the funeral. Being an outsider and all. I’m just going to slip away for a few hours, you know, to give everyone some space.’
Tollin nodded slowly. He peered down his crooked nose at her thoughtfully. ‘I see. But you’re not just slipping away, are you? No. You’ve got a destination in mind.’
Victoria felt nerves twist within her. ‘Maybe so. Look, you won’t tell anyone, will you?’
Tollin’s lips twitched slightly. ‘No, no reason to.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Why would I try to stop the first spark of curiosity in you?’
‘Thanks. Well, I better be off. Have to snag one of those boats before someone realises I’ve gone.’ She gave him a tiny wave and started off towards the beach.
‘Oh, Victoria?’ Tollin judged her carefully. ‘You know the good thing about rivers?’
Victoria frowned. ‘What?’
A smile, much livelier, pulled at his lips. When he smiled like that, he always looked like he had a very clever secret he wasn’t planning on sharing. The dark emotions he had had moments ago seemed completely forgotten. ‘They all have to start somewhere.’ He grinned at Victoria’s confused expression, and then swung down from the porch, rather suddenly, to land beside her.
She let out a slight yelp. ‘What are you doing? I thought you were staying back at your cabin!’
Tollin made a face and shrugged. ‘Couldn’t really let you go wandering off on your own. Just imagine the trouble that could follow!’
Victoria fought down a small, relieved smile. ‘You just can’t bear standing still longer than ten seconds, can you?’
Tollin smiled slightly. ‘What can I say; I’ve got a fast metabolism. Come on! Daylight is wasting.’
‘What daylight?’ Victoria asked, tromping down to the boathouse after him.
The ride across the lake was in almost total silence. Victoria couldn’t think of much to say to Tollin, and for once, his almost constant chatter had ceased. He sailed with expert ease, while Victoria’s eyes stayed glued to the dark water. She was grateful Tollin was with her now. She never would have been able to cross the water alone.
A fog had spilled in, almost completely shrouding the lake. Victoria could hardly see the village behind them now, though she could make out forms gathering along the beach. She realised it must be time for the funeral.
A mournful bellow off to her right drew her attention and she watched a herd of long necked reptiles moving out of the forest and into the water. While the village had seemed dead, the lake was still thriving. For some reason it didn’t seem right to Victoria.
Before she realised it, the boat slid up against the shore and Tollin hopped out into the water to haul it to the sandy, debris-strewn beach. He held out his hand to her and Victoria hoisted up her skirt and dropped into the freezing water after him. She waded to shore, watching the little minnows dart away from her steps.
While Tollin tied the sailing boat fast, Victoria examined the beach. She didn’t notice any other prints in the sand, save for theirs, which gave her some comfort. With any luck, they wouldn’t run into any savages. Out of everyone she knew, she inexplicably felt safest in Tollin’s presence, but she still didn’t want to run into trouble.
Once Tollin was satisfied with his handiwork, he swung round to face her. ‘Well, shall we be off? If we want to find the source of this and get back before dark we’d better be shifting, don’t you think?’
Victoria was slightly overwhelmed by the extreme amount of enthusiasm Tollin seemed to radiate at all times. She simply nodded in agreement and followed in his energetic footsteps.
The walk along the beach to the tributary was not far. The smell hit her long before they actually reached the spot where the crystal-clear water drained out into the lake. Victoria fought through the thick reeds after Tollin and came out onto the small shoreline where the river streamed out. It had turned for the worst since last she saw it—minus the dead body. She gagged at the smell of the dead, disfigured lake creatures that still littered the edge of the water. A frog with too many legs hopped awkwardly
away from her, face dragging in the sand.
‘Lovely,’ she said, hand over her mouth.
Tollin dropped down to a squat, eyes scanning the beach. ‘Things seem to have gotten worse since the last time we were here…must be the rain washing the spores downstream…’ Tollin’s brown eyes slid up to meet hers. ‘That’s not good.’
‘Will the whole lake turn into that?’ Victoria asked, gesturing round her.
‘No,’ Tollin said slowly, not sounding entirely sure himself. ‘Not if there’s only a few sporepods leaking in, but if this keeps up, if the Blaiden keep dumping this stuff, if these pods keep being sent, then yes, we’re going to have a very big problem on our hands. The whole lake could turn. Not just the lake, but the whole ocean, the entire planet! Worst case scenario, of course.’
‘That’s pretty bad,’ Victoria said, eyes watering from the smell.
‘Yeah,’ Tollin agreed. ‘Pretty bad indeed…’ He pushed himself up enthusiastically. ‘Come on!’
Victoria turned round in a small circle on the spot. Across the lake she could see the village. She couldn’t make out any people—the fog was too thick for that—but she knew they must be there saying goodbye. A slight pang tore at her heart.
She turned her attention back to the water. The stream was pouring out of the forest but Victoria could see no true path to follow besides the water. Willows, tall grass and other trees crowded the banks of the stream. Victoria glanced down at the water bleeding into the lake again and all the death surrounding it. She had to go in there, she thought with numb unease, after Tollin and find out what was wrong. He was already fighting his way through expertly, not bothering to turn back and see if she was following.
Victoria pushed through the tight branches and tall grass, trying to avoid the shockingly cold water of the stream whenever possible. At first the going was tough. The forest had grown right up to the edges of the stream and tangled over it. Victoria had a hard time, unused to travelling through underbrush, but gradually the forest began to thin out and the trees spilt back, taller and spaced.
The crisp air began to make Victoria grateful she’d brought a shawl with her. She knew she wasn’t well-dressed for the forest; her skirts kept tangling in vines and branches and her soft boots did little good to protect her feet when she tripped over logs and stones. Victoria hadn’t planned as well as she’d thought. Tollin, irritatingly, was having no problems. Victoria got the feeling from watching him that he had plenty of experience running around in tough situations and dealing with strange encounters.
As she watched Tollin dart ahead of her, she couldn’t help wondering about him. Who was he? He didn’t have a Scrabian accent, nor did he look like one of her people, but he didn’t fit in with the Scottorrians either. Though, if anything, he did sound a bit like one. He was brilliant—like Andrew, but different in a way: smarter if that were possible. He knew too much about everything, a bigger picture of the world he wasn’t too keen on sharing. He reminded her of one of the magical, mischievous gods of Scrabian lore. He appeared out of nowhere with hundreds of tricks up his sleeves, ready for an adventure.
‘Can I ask you something?’ she finally asked after about twenty minutes of walking. She could take her silent speculations no longer.
‘Don’t see why not,’ Tollin said, sounding a trifle distracted. ‘Questions are a good thing! Glad to see you’re finally starting to use that brain of yours. Thinking.’
She swallowed. ‘Who are you?’
That brought Tollin up short. ‘Ah. That question. You know who I am. I’m Tollin!’ He started walking again.
Victoria hurried to catch up. ‘Yes, I know that! Everyone knows that, but that’s all I know. As far as I can tell, that’s all anyone knows! You’re just this mysterious stranger who shows up, have no information about yourself and yet seem to fit in anywhere…and at the same time, you don’t fit. I think about Scrabia and Scottorr and you don’t fit! You don’t belong here and I want to know why.’
Tollin glanced over his shoulder at her a little peevishly. ‘Does it matter?’
‘Well…yes! Yes it matters! I’m here tromping through the forest with you, the village trusts you, and yet no-one knows who you are!’
‘I don’t see how that has anything to do with me helping out. I’m helping because I can. Do you have a problem with that?’
Victoria looked down at her boots. ‘No…’ She felt her stomach flip slightly. ‘Did she know? Did you tell her?’
Tollin was quiet for a very long time. ‘Doesn’t matter now. Now drop the subject, Victoria.’
Victoria fumed for a minute, cursing his stubbornness. He was as bad as Andrew when it came to avoiding subjects. ‘Fine. But why? Why are you helping? I’m going to assume you’re not from either one of these worlds—which is completely mental to think about but I’m just going to assume—so why would you help us out?’ She wobbled as she walked down a log.
‘I help because it’s what I was tasked with when I was born.’ His voice turned weary now. ‘The day I was born I was told it would be my duty to keep Daemonic forces from destroying the Realms. It’s the whole reason for my existence. For five hundred years I’ve been protecting you people from Daemons.’
‘You’re joking,’ Victoria gaped. ‘That can’t be true!’
Tollin spun round, arms swinging. Victoria took a step back, almost into the stream.
‘It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not.’
Victoria swallowed. She watched Tollin turn and start walking again. A colourful bird darted across her path.
‘I was born on Scrabia, by the way,’ Tollin said after a long moment of silence.
‘Were you really?’
Tollin took in a deep breath. ‘My mother was Queen there, long ago. So we may be very distantly related.’ He cast a rueful glance back at her. ‘What do you think of that?’
Victoria coughed. ‘That’s…a scary thought.’
Tollin chuckled. ‘Well, leaders on Scrabia change constantly. She died…not long after I was born. Never really knew her. I suppose that royal bloodline was lost not long after that.’
‘Yeah,’ Victoria said, for the life of her she couldn’t tell if he was making it up or not. ‘Kind of a stretch to say we might be related. Think I would have heard about you at some point.’
‘Oh, probably not,’ Tollin said. By his tone, Victoria could sense he was beginning to loosen up. The forest must have had a relaxing effect on him, making him forget about the trouble back at the village. ‘My birth was a complete secret.’
Victoria laughed and raised her eyes to the green canopy above her. ‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’
Tollin grinned and slowed his pace enough for her to keep stride.
‘So, what do you think of this?’ He pointed to the stream.
‘Well,’ Victoria said thoughtfully. ‘It doesn’t look that bad, as opposed to where it empties out into the lake…’
And it was true. The water was clean. The mossy banks were green and alive. Nothing compared to the dead beach.
‘Good,’ Tollin nodded. ‘And what does that tell you?’
Victoria frowned. ‘Well, I would guess that, for the most part, if there are spores in this stream, they’re moving too fast to really do any damage in one spot. They have to sit for a while.’
Tollin bobbed his head, eyebrows rising. ‘Look at you, using your old noggin. I’m impressed. Very good!’
Victoria beamed. Unlike Andrew, Tollin wasn’t shy when it came to showering people with praise.
‘Now,’ Tollin continued. ‘Just because it’s not doing any damage, doesn’t mean it’s safe to drink. In fact, I would say just the opposite. Drinking it in small doses might not do you much harm; maybe just slight dizziness or headaches.’
‘Right.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I never drank much, but that’s how I felt…come to think of it, that’s how I felt most of the time living in the palace, even when I wasn’t drinking the spores. It wasn
’t till I got here that I realised what a difference it was. I don’t have the headaches I used to have constantly anymore.’
Tollin rubbed his stubbly chin, thinking. ‘They’ve likely contaminated most of the water on Scrabia. I thought as much. Get the whole city population drinking the stuff and then soon they’re completely under your control. The more you drink, the worse the effects become—violence, extreme hallucinations, aggression—like what we’re seeing with the Blaiden and the junkies…’ Tollin pulled up short. ‘Oh…’ he said. He ran his hands through his wild hair. ‘Oh!’ He whirled round and grabbed Victoria by the shoulders. ‘Tell me, Victoria, you said something about your cousin, Reginald! When he drank the spores, you said he was allergic to them, didn’t you?’
Victoria nodded, confused. ‘Yeah. He only tried it the once. It was pretty bad. Thought he was going to die.’
Tollin eyed her. ‘What were his symptoms?’
Victoria thought. ‘It’s been a long while…from what I remember, he just fell over in a kind of fit…just tossed about on the floor. It was terrible…’ Victoria felt understanding sink in. ‘Oh,’ she breathed. ‘Just like Andrew!’
‘Precisely! It’s in the water that you all are drinking at the lodge. It may be a very small amount, but enough over time can mess with Andrew. He might be very sensitive to it. Most likely, he’s very sensitive to everything. Oh!’ Tollin gritted his teeth together. ‘If we can find the cure here—’
‘We can help Andrew!’ Victoria finished, gripping Tollin’s arms in excitement.
‘Brilliant!’ Tollin cried. He started off again, much faster this time. ‘It won’t save him, he’s been having these fits his whole life—but I bet it’s making the problem worse for him. We could slow down the progression of his disease.’
She paused. ‘Hang on. Andrew took them full strength and nothing happened to him.’
Tollin directed his sharp gaze her direction. ‘Right away? No. But he had a bad turn later, didn’t he? One worse than he’s ever had, isn’t that right? It just had to work its way through his system first.’