by C Lee Tocci
Todd gave a grunt of surprise. Trembling, Lilibit buried her face into his back.
“What is it?” he asked in a whisper.
“I don’t know.” Her words were muffled into the back of his shirt.
Todd turned and faced the tree people. Wariness quickly replaced his first instinct of trust. He unsheathed his staff and urged Midnight to the lead, gesturing for the others to fall in behind him.
Sensing the change in Todd’s attitude, the Keepers tensed. They huddled closer to the Elk and buzzed anxiously amongst themselves.
A rustling in the woods heralded the arrival of another stranger. The Keepers of the Trees hushed and turned expectantly toward the quivering brush.
The man emerging from the foliage at first looked even smaller than the other Keepers, but Todd quickly realized that was because he was very old and bent with age. His spine was so bowed he looked like he was wearing a backpack. In his hand, he carried a staff of living wood. While the shaft was worn and stained from ages of handling, fresh leaves sprouted from its tip and an exotic looking flower grew from the top, like an amethyst crown. The patches of color on his face and tunic were faded and greyer than the other Keepers and the tufts on his head sagged like the branches on an over-laden Christmas tree. His eyes roamed slowly over each of the travelers, but he didn’t seem to notice Lilibit peeking around his back any more than the others. His gaze fixed on Todd, who returned his stare with what he hoped was confidence. When the little man spoke, his voice was high and raspy, with a singsong cadence.
“Bocarbolee is the name of me. Elder of Keepers of the Trees. Welcome us give to the Children of Stones. Sit with us! Eat with us! Come rest your bones!”
A snort of mirth from Jeff drew a withering glance from Todd, but the others were too amazed by the strangeness of the Keepers to laugh at the Bocarbolee’s odd speech. Even Lilibit peered intently at the little old man. Peeking around from Todd’s back, she stopped trembling, but she did not loosen her grip.
Todd didn’t want to discount Lilibit’s instincts, but he couldn’t sense any threat from the tree people. And the offer of food was tempting: the extra day recuperating after the attack of the monster snake had depleted the food in their packs. He looked over at the others before turning to speak to Bocarbolee.
“The Children of the Stones thank the Keepers of the Trees,” Todd said slowly, the formality of his speech seemed somehow appropriate. “And we would like to eat with you. If you please.”
His unintentional rhyme made Todd grimace and Jeff rolled his eyes in disgust, but the consequences were as dramatic as they were unexpected. The tree people began to laugh and clap. Some rolled on the ground, holding their sides. Some pulled out flutes or drums or musical pipes and began to play a cacophony of notes that, while there was no definite melody or tune, seemed to harmonize with the laughter and the sounds of the woods. One little female bounded up to land on Midnight’s neck and pushed her nose directly into Todd’s face.
“Good! Good! You be so clever!” she laughed into his face. “Friends we shall be! Forever! Forever!”
With that, she jumped off the horse, tugging at Todd’s arm as she fell, pulling Todd from Midnight’s back to land with a thud on the ground. Looking around, he saw the others were also being pulled off their horses. The tree people danced around them, playing and laughing.
Lilibit alone hung back from all the merrymaking. She walked with the horses as the little people led the travelers down a newly opened path, scowling at anyone who dared come near her.
The Director did not squint at the desert glare. He tolerated no weakness around him, not even from his own eyes. The convoy of All-Terrain Vehicles he led ripped a wide scar across the fragile desert landscape. As the mouth of the Canyon del Muerte rose into view, his earpiece buzzed in his ear: his units were moving into place. Strategically located along the rim of the canyon, they encircled the perimeter, tightening the noose around the fugitive children.
The convoy rolled to a halt at the mouth of the canyon. The trees were dense, their branches intertwining only a foot or so from the forest floor, a network of vines wove a web reinforcing the screen of foliage, creating a living wall of timber.
The Director’s ATV roared north and south, from one wall of the canyon to the other, but he found no breach in this arboreal barricade. He knew the children must have entered the canyon, but it was if the woods had closed up behind them, swallowing all traces of their trail.
The Director would not be thwarted by the forest. From the rear of the convoy, a salvo of bulldozers rolled to the vanguard.
With a grim smile, the Director gave the order to proceed: the forest would yield to the will of the Director.
The Dell of Bocarbolee was breathtaking, and yet Lilibit had no trouble breathing. She shuffled along in a sullen silence while the others whispered their admiration as the dense woods again yielded to an even larger sunnier meadow.
A sprightly stream bubbled cheerfully through tall grass. Huge weeping willow trees ringed the clearing, their branches softly brushing the ground. Dangling from the branches of the willows hung small yet elaborate nests. They looked like huge walnuts, their walls woven from the living willow branches, their round windows fashioned from twigs and leaves. Small hatches on the bottom of the nests served as entries and vine ladders hung from these openings. As they entered the Dell, many little people climbed out of the windows and swung on tree limbs, clamoring to catch a glimpse of the visitors.
In the center of the Dell, an enormous golden weeping willow towered above the rest, its glistening branches arched gracefully, looking more like a fountain sparkling with sunlight than the living tree it was. Dozens of woven nests filled its limbs, connected by swinging bridges made of vines and branches. Banners of many colors, attached to the stems of the nests, draped down like tresses to intertwine with the branches or to flap gently in the breeze.
Lilibit watched fuming as the little female Keeper who called herself Sillisoso attached herself to Todd and appeared to be amusing him with her rhymes. As they sat under the golden willow, Lilibit was certain they had forgotten all about her. She hung back, standing outside the wall of willow branches while the travelers and the Keepers sat down to eat.
As Lilibit watched, she saw Todd glance around to check on the others. His back straightened when he didn’t find Lilibit on his first scan, but then he glimpsed her through the dangling branches and his attitude relaxed into annoyance. With a twitch of his head, he gestured for her to join them and Lilibit saw his irritation grow when she shook her head to answer no.
Todd turned an exasperated shoulder on Lilibit and went back to listening to Nita who was making up silly songs to the wild melodies Sillisoso played, much to the delight of the tree people.
Lilibit plopped herself down among the willows and began to weave herself a bower of branches and self-pity.
“Why do you not join the others in the feast?” she heard a low voice whisper. Lilibit turned to find the Elk standing near her, gazing at her with huge brown eyes. For several moments, Lilibit ignored the question, plaiting the twigs of willows, waiting for the Elk to go away. On her back, Lilibit felt the warmth of his breath and the patience of his gaze.
“I don’t know,” Lilibit said at last.
“There is naught to fear from the Keepers of the Trees.” The words of the Elk appeared in her mind. “They have no malice to any who do not threaten their woods and few powers to wield except their music and their laughter.”
Lilibit turned back to peek at the group laughing and singing around the mounds of fruits and nuts and tubers they shared. As she watched, Devon was pulled to his feet by a little laughing Keeper who pulled out his flute and piped a tune while encouraging the boy to dance.
The image of Devon of being tugged along triggered a memory within Lilibit. Her breath snagged as a sliver of a memory danced in her mind. She recalled being cold and wet and frightened, and wanting so much to trust the little man who pu
lled at her hand just like the way Devon was being pulled at. She felt a surge of terror as she remembered a bolt of excruciating pain. She needed to warn Devon. She scrambled to her feet and was about to run to him, when a hand landing on her shoulder recalled an agonizing memory. She screamed.
Todd snapped his hand back from Lilibit’s shoulder like he’d been stung. He had seen the Elk standing with Lilibit, and though he wasn’t worried about her, he thought she had sulked alone quite long enough and it was time for her to rejoin the others. But the touch of his hand startled her and she screamed long and loud. When she turned to him, she looked like a hunted animal. On impulse, he put out his arms to her and as the panic faded, she pounced on him, wrapping her arms around his waist, trembling.
The Dell was hushed. The sound of Lilibit’s cry had pierced the hodgepodge of music and laughter and had stunned all the celebrants into a bewildered silence.
The Elk too, was stunned. His experience with humans was limited and he was unable to decide which astounded him more: that the small girl projected her memories so vividly or that, in the past, she had crossed paths with a Keeper who walked among the world of men. That she associated this Keeper with a distress and betrayal too intense for her mind to accept triggered a great dismay within the heart of the Elk. With a deafening trumpet, he reared up on his hind legs, causing the boy to turn his body to shield the girl. The hooves sliced the air above their heads.
As the Elk’s hooves touched the ground, he pivoted on the turf and galloped out of the Dell. If a renegade Keeper was consorting with the Enemy, then he must be found. And found quickly.
The sun was low on the horizon. The shadows of the saguaro pointed long accusing fingers at the machinery assaulting the periphery of the forest. The roar of their engines and the stench of their fumes smothered the peace of the Woods.
And yet the Forest would not yield.
No sooner was a tree felled or an area cleared, than the forest appeared to rebound, refilling the void, giving no quarter, surrendering not an inch.
And the Forest fought back.
Three bulldozers, two chippers and a 1070 Harvester had already fallen victims to the trees. Vines, swinging lethargically in the breeze, haphazardly twined around the axles and weaved their way into the gear shafts, using the machines own momentum to rip the cogs apart. Branches, like arboreal kamikazes plunged from the crests of the treetops to impale the lumbering invaders.
The Director had long since passed the point of being puzzled. Even frustration was behind him. All that was left was an ice cold anger that burned and a fiery determination that froze. He buried the excuses of the squad foreman with one glacial glare that left the man stuttering and sweating.
The Director gave the order for the machinery to withdraw. He then grabbed a tank filled with petrol. With a wrench of his wrist, he twisted off the top and tossed the cap away. He strode determinedly to the closest ATV and, with one swift motion, grabbed the operator and heaved him out of the driver’s seat.
The Foreman watched in confusion as the Director doused the ATV with the fuel, slammed it into gear, and drove it full tilt into the woods.
The trees seem to part as if to allow the Director’s vehicle to enter the sanctum of the forest, only to immediately seal behind him.
The silence at the canyon mouth lasted only seconds. The blast of the detonation blew engine parts and tree limbs in all directions, scattering flaming flakes of wreckage at the feet of the stunned troops. They stood frozen, uncertain what to do next.
Black smoke poured out of the smoldering wound of the Forest. The smoke parted and from deep within the blaze, the flames unfurled to allow the Director safe exodus. He stepped from the inferno, covered with smoke and ash, yet unscathed. He walked wordlessly to his minions before turning to look back at the Forest.
“Burn it,” he ordered. “Burn to the ground.”
Once again seated beneath the willow, Todd avoided the eye of Bocarbolee. He had no answers to the Old One’s questions. What made Lilibit cry out? Why was she afraid of the Keepers? And what had driven the Elk from the Dell? Sillisoso told them the Elk was their last liaison to the world beyond the canyon and Bocarbolee was worried if the Elk didn’t return.
Creaking like a tree, Bocarbolee stood to speak. A quiet fell over the Dell and although his voice was soft and scratchy, it carried far in the hush.
“Thank you new friends, for sharing our food.
Our stomachs are full, we all feel renewed.
Yet pause for a moment to hear our sad tale,
For we pray your assistance will help us prevail.
For the tale of the Keepers is a tale of the ages,
And to tell all of it here would take pages and pages.
So here in nutshell I speak of our plight,
Of betrayal and murder and the onset of night.”
By the crackling light of the campfire, Todd could see Lilibit’s fears slip away as they all became engrossed in the tale told by Bocarbolee. His voice grew stronger as he continued.
“In an earlier time, countless eons gone past,
The Keepers were many, the Forests were vast.
The Earth Mother listened, the Creator would speak,
The Stones they were strong, the Enemy, weak.
The Stone Voice would serve the Earth Stone with trust,
And speak for the People with words wise and just.”
The mention of the Stone Voice caught Todd’s attention. Jeff perked with interest too and Marla leaned over to whisper into Todd’s ear. “Do you think that Lilibit---?”
“Later.” Todd cut her off. It was not the time for those questions.
“Yet crept like a viper, the Deceiver did enter,
And council the Stone Voice, a most evil mentor.
She turned from the Earth Stone and turned from her calling,
And blind was the Earth Mother, the balance was falling.
Now the path to extinction is long but unchecked,
And if nothing is changed, we shall pass from neglect.
The Woods will fall barren, the land, it will die,
Not even mankind will this fate deny.
Our one hope is seeded, a Stone Voice will rise,
For years, we have watched for the signs in the skies.
Now the stars are our herald, and our hope once more springs.
The sky is reopened, the earth once more sings.
For the rise of a Stone Voice is the last hope for the trees.
So we beg the young Stone Pilgrims to carry our pleas.
For the Heart of the Forest, the Stone of the Dell
Still dwells in the canyon, but casts a dim spell.”
With that, Bocarbolee tapped the butt of his staff lightly on the ground. The pale purple blossom on its apex slowly unfurled to reveal a small grey crystal. The stone glowed with a faint violet light shining from it core.
“Here in the scepter of Bocarbolee,
Lies the heartstone, Quaba-ho, the soul of the trees.
Yet as dark grows the Stone Voice, so too the stone pales,
And the fear of the Keepers is soon it will fail.
But if a Stone Voice arises, a new age will dawn.
The forests will thrive, the Earth will go on.
So to you, young pilgrims, we wish you great speed,
That you may carry to Kiva, the news of our need.
Please tell the new Stone Voice, a new stone is needed,
And we pray our request will not go unheeded.
Rest now, young pilgrims, for tomorrow comes soon
And your path to the Stone is pain and thorn strewn.
Sleep deeply and safely, in the peace of the Dell,
The Keepers shall guard you, and all shall be well.”
Chapter Forty Two
Flight from Flame
Todd didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t remember being covered with his blanket, nor the large foamy mushroom being placed under his head as a pillow.
>
Some noise disturbed his sleep. At first, his head, still fuzzy with dreams, tried to ignore all the racket, but when he remembered where he was, he rolled to his feet, wielding his staff.
A faint smell of smoke hung over the Dell and Todd saw plumes of black striping the starlit sky. The Keepers rushed to and fro in a panic, pulling their nests down from the willows and carrying them into the woods towards the canyon walls. As Todd woke the others, he heard a high voice squeaking frantically at him.
“Hurry! Hurry! Arise! Awake! The Woods are a-fire! Haste we must make!”
Todd turned to see Sillisoso bouncing towards them, her arms flapping, her eyes darting frantically.
“Close your mouth! No time to gape! The Dell is on fire! This way to escape!”
She grabbed Todd’s hand and started to pull him towards the eastern boundary of the Dell. Todd shook her off for a moment to help the others get their gear together. Sillisoso jumped up and down with impatience, bouncing from her feet to fall on her behind and then rebounding back up to her feet again. In a very few moments the travelers were packed and running behind the frantic Sillisoso, placing their feet carefully to avoid tripping over the mob of Keepers bounding among them.
“The caves of the canyon will provide us safe haven; I’ll guide you there swiftly, I swear by the Raven!”
The branches of the trees parted to create a tunnel through the dense forest. At first, the smoke seemed to be lessening as they headed east, but when a new path opened in front of them, a cloud of thick ash preceded the appearance of another band of Keepers, Bocarbolee at the lead.
“The flame of the Enemy, it burns on all sides! Between us and the havens, the flame, it divides!” Bocarbolee gasped, his face smeared with soot.
The Woods, knowing the fire to be on all sides, would not open another path for the refugees. The trees stood tall against the enemy inferno, but all knew in the end they would fall. As smoke began to roll along the ground between the besieged trees, the Keepers began coughing and stumbling. Since they were shorter, the fumes were overtaking them sooner.