Cullen slowly turned in place, pausing to listen to each tree. “I hope we get a chance to help them.” After the song ended, he directed his attention to the pair of women. “Lady Ysmena, will you please check for any communication from the Imperial Dragon? I should determine if I’m needed to administer healing to Yasqu.”
“Yes. This would be a good place to check, away from our festival lights.” She floated to the top branches of the tallest otase tree. After securing a safe hold with one arm, she lifted her lantern high above her head. The light radiated in all directions, obliterating her form.
Lyra felt a familiar surge of energy. She looked past Ysmena’s light and noticed a slight flash in the air above the tree. The power intensified and became identifiable as the Imperial Dragon’s. Dozens of golden filaments coursed through the sky and merged onto the lantern. “Amazing!” Lyra exclaimed.
Cullen touched her elbow. “You must be able to see his communication beams.”
She nodded, but kept her gaze fixed on the illuminated threads. “How does he do that?”
“Ysmena reflected her aura through her birthmate star to where the Imperial Dragon was located. He replied the same way,” Cullen answered.
“She used her lantern, but what did he use?”
“With his vast power, he needs no device. Although, I do know it’s easier for him to send and receive more quickly from his observatory. He must have been there when she communicated.”
“That’s incredible. Can you send that type of communication?” Lyra asked.
“No. Only the Guardians and a few others—Ysmena, Symar, and the Black Dragon. I think Nox, his assistant, can as well.”
Pipkin stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the Lady of the Forest. When she descended before them, the keeper dropped to the ground.
“Thank you for your loyal assistance,” Ysmena said as she allowed her lantern to bathe Pipkin in magic light, and her tiny body lit from within.
“I’ll leave to serve at my post now.” The circutamina scurried away, her body still glowing. Lightened by the empowerment, her feet occasionally missed the ground.
“The Imperial Dragon conveyed that Yasqu is stable.” Ysmena motioned Lyra and Cullen to come closer and continued in a hushed voice. “The leader also told me he had heard that the Black Dragon is desperate to secure copies of the three lost volumes of the Book of Dragonspeir. He’s sent his staff searching. Your leader requested you gain any information you can while here.”
“The land of Aria—is it true another missing book is there?” Lyra asked.
The Lady of the Forest laughed. “It may be so. Like with most aged gentlefolk, the distant memories of our older goddesses seem clearer than what happened yesterday.”
Lines of concern cut Cullen’s forehead. “Where is the World Tree, and how do we access him or her?”
“He’s not far from the grand glade of the festival and is the oldest tree in Silva Caliga, a mighty ash. He sometimes speaks in riddles and runes, so understanding him can be tricky.”
“Let’s go back and see if we can learn more,” Lyra said, turning around on the path.
“Good idea.” Cullen set a brisk pace, but reached out to catch Lyra’s hand. We must act fast on this, if it seems worthwhile.
Yes. I agree. Lyra matched his quick steps. Holding hands while walking this fast was awkward, but necessary to send thoughts between them more easily.
Ysmena floated ahead of them with ease. “Allow me to lead the way with my lantern. It’s suited to shining through this magical fog.”
When they arrived in the glade, the sun’s rays reached high above the tree tops. The area seemed deserted like a ghost town. Although cauldrons simmered above low pit fires, and tureens still sat on the slate buffet tables, the thousands of keepers were absent.
The goddess trees stood quiet, and no circutamina played in their branches. Instead, the lights of the keepers’ auras pulsed faintly through the bark of their trunks and wide limbs.
Lyra froze and scanned the sky, looking for danger.
Ysmena floated into the upper branches of the Gorse Goddess, and the two appeared to engage in conversation.
Cullen stepped in front of Lyra. With a firm grip, he planted his staff and spun blue light around the glade.
No evil dragons or avril scout birds could be seen or heard. Looking closer along the forest floor, Lyra noticed a few keepers stirring before they disappeared into trunks.
“My aura doesn’t detect any hazards,” Cullen whispered over his shoulder.
Ysmena floated down behind them and spoke in a soft tone. “There’s no cause for alarm. It’s time for intervigilium, our midday rest. This morning we opened our celebration with gay dances. Tonight, you shall see a wonderful equinox party to bid farewell to the last waxing winter moon.”
“Does the World Tree rest now also?” Lyra asked. “We really need to talk with him.”
“He does, but if we’re quick we may be able to speak with him before his quiet time.” Ysmena spun to the right. “Come.” The skirts of her cloak and gown flowed behind her as she sped across the brightly illuminated fog in the clearing.
Although only a couple of steps behind, Lyra struggled to keep sight of her.
“This way,” the Lady called.
Blinded by the intense glare, Lyra squinted but couldn’t see which direction Ysmena turned. She could only follow the sound of the Lady’s voice.
“Come this way,’ she called again.
Once under cover of the tree limbs, Lyra’s eyes adjusted.
Ysmena stood on a narrow footpath, overgrown with brush. “This trail is normally hidden. The vines and bushes will not permit outsiders to pass. They protect the World Tree since he is the source of power for all life in Silva Caliga. The path will open only for me and certain empowered circutamina.” As she took a step forward, low branches moved aside.
They picked their way for several minutes. Eventually, the trail dead-ended at a massive trunk, even wider than Cranewort’s, which was the widest tree Lyra had seen before. She looked up, but couldn’t see the top branches—definitely the World Tree.
As the lantern light of the Lady of the Forest fell on surrounding trees, they lifted their roots and crept a few yards away.
Ysmena bowed her head, then lifted her staff high. “Blessed World Tree, I respectfully request your counsel.” Her light shimmered along his bare branches, dotted with swollen leaf buds.
He remained still, but the Lady of the Forest didn’t waver.
Birds and chipmunks darted in all directions on limbs of nearby trees, but none perched in the World Tree. Their chattering escalated to a frenzy.
Despite the chaos, Ysmena resembled a statue. The features of her face formed hard angles as though they were chiseled. The hems of her gowns never quivered.
Following her example, Lyra stood as still as possible. Although Cullen’s forearm brushed against her shoulder, she didn’t dare extend her aura out of her body to communicate with him.
He kept a tight grip on his wizard’s staff and his gaze fixed on the World Tree.
Trying to understand what was happening around her, Lyra’s clairvoyant power pulsed under her skin, and much more ebbed just below. She sensed frequencies given off by hundreds of lesser magicals. She felt the humming of early spring wildflowers—trout lilies, hepatica, and trilliums.
Movement at the ground attracted Lyra to roll her eyes down. A patch of wake-robin trilliums rotated their triplets of petals like miniature pinwheels.
She glanced back to the World Tree, but saw no change.
Cocooned caterpillars sent waves of energy. Lyra sensed their eagerness to break free and flutter as butterflies around Ysmena’s lantern that called to them.
Without motion, Lyra’s others senses became more keen. The rich, damp smell of organic debris tickled her nose, and she repeatedly fought back sneezes.
After what seemed like ten minutes, she detected electric vibrations of fluid movin
g upward inside the World Tree. It seeped into his branches bathed in Ysmena’s aura. Slowly, his twigs began to wave, clench and release. “Lady of the Forest, you wish to consult with me?”
Ysmena relaxed her shoulders. She lowered her staff and planted its stumpy wooden base into the soft loam.
Lyra’s breath, which she hadn’t been aware she was holding, came out with a soft whoosh.
Ysmena arched her neck and upper back. She looked high on his trunk where furrows of bark formed thick, close brows. “These two friends seek information about Aria. They’re needing to find a missing Book of Dragonspeir. Can your knowledge help them?”
The brows of bark rose, allowing deeply set eye sockets to project outward and rotate onto the couple. Fissures comprising his lips undulated up and down, and his sap flowed upward more quickly.
Lyra clamped her hands together to keep herself from addressing him.
“Friends of Silva Caliga to be sure, but why should I help? Who are the two of you?” the World Tree asked in a gruff voice.
Cullen took a step forward and bowed low. “Lord Ash, I humbly present myself. I am Sire Drake, the Imperial Sorcerer of the Alliance.” He held out an arm to Lyra. “This is the current Scribe of the Alliance, Lady Adalyra.”
With much creaking and popping, the tree bent slightly toward them. “Thank you, Sire Drake. Your fine reputation is known to me. Be welcomed.” He extended a gnarled twig in front of Lyra. “A Scribe?”
She offered her hand to his twig. “Yes. I’m the fifth Scribe to serve the Alliance.”
The tip of his twig traced her palm. “I had the pleasure of helping one of the previous Scribes. She found herself trapped in my land at a time when the Dark Realm reigned supreme over your Alliance. She badly wanted to return to her homeland, but travel through Dragonspeir meant certain death for her. I sent her to my upper boughs where she reached the parallel world of Aria, in hopes they could find a way to help her. In exchange for her personal copy of that magic book, she was allowed to pass out of Aria’s other portal into the safety of her homeland. That may be the book you seek.”
Lyra leaned forward. “It’s very likely it is.”
“Can you help us travel into Aria?” Cullen asked.
“I can.” The ancient tree pressed a branch against the back of his trunk as a brace and slowly straightened his stooped posture with a series of groans and pops. “Standing tall and reaching high is how I supply energy to all who live in Silva Caliga. But you two should already know that magic moves energy from one plane of existence to another. Even a simple spell creates a gateway for energy to move as it brings your intention into the physical realm. I think, Sire Drake, your real question is will I help you. I will answer with a question of my own. Why must you accompany the Scribe?”
“I’ve been appointed by the Imperial Dragon to do everything in my power to keep her safe,” Cullen responded.
“Rules of the Alliance Guardians do not apply outside Dragonspeir in the world of Aria. I’m sorry. I cannot let you pass. You may leave this circle now,” the tree stated with a resolute tone.
Lyra grabbed Cullen’s arm. I need you. Don’t let him turn you away.
He placed his hand over hers and looked at the face of the mighty ash. “I love her and want to protect her. That must be reason enough to meet the rules of any land.”
“Can you offer proof of your commitment to each other?”
The wizard felt deep into one of his pants pockets and withdrew a small black velvet bag. From inside, he removed a pocket watch and handed it to Ysmena. “Lyra, please explain to Lord Ash and the Lady of the Forest what this symbolizes.”
Lyra took a step toward the World Tree. “It’s a pocket watch that belonged to the husband of the last Scribe, Brigid. I found it in the inside pocket of her wedding dress. It’s inscribed with her husband’s name, Charles. I believe it was her wedding gift to him.”
“It’s quite lovely and as you describe, but the pictures inside are of you, Lyra,” Ysmena said, staring at the heirloom.
“Yes. You’re right,” Lyra agreed. “Cullen and I are often apart. I wanted him to have a picture that would remind him of one of our most wonderful times past, a special date. The other is to look ahead to the future when I’ll wear Brigid’s magical gown at our wedding. I gave this to Cullen with my proposal.”
“I accepted, and we are committed to marry,” Cullen added, wrapping an arm around Lyra’s waist.
“When I help Dragonspeir reach peace, I’ll be granted enough afflation to become immortal and not need to be separated from Cullen in two worlds. Then we’ll marry. Finding the last two lost volumes of the Book of Dragonspeir will enable peace for the Alliance.” No matter how Lyra tried to sound assertive, her voice rose into a desperate squeaky plea. “We really need your help, Lord Ash.”
Ysmena nodded and wiped a tear from one eye as she passed the keepsake back to Cullen. “It’s exactly as she said. I see the pictures as she described and feel the energy of the meaning of her words.”
The old tree’s bark mouth turned up at the corners. “That is more than enough proof. Sire Drake, you shall be admitted along with Lady Adalyra…if you can both answer my next question.”
Lyra activated more of her aura to be certain her senses were alert.
“In order to pass, you must be able to tell me three things. First, name the Scribe who I helped. Second, as you know, each Book of Dragonspeir has magical value. Tell me the primary value of her book. Third, who aided the Scribe’s reentry into her homeland? Here is a clue encrypted in runes—the language of the departed nemus, the sacred original grove of trees in Dragonspeir.” He broke the tip of one of his twigs and pressed it hard against a rock until green sap flowed. Using that as ink, he drew a series of three figures on a nearby bolder.
Lyra sucked air into her lungs. She knew nothing about runes in this world and hoped Cullen had some experience.
“Furthermore, you may not be helped by anyone in Silva Caliga, plant or animal. You must remain in our borders until you supply an answer. I have given you this invitation to Aria, the sky world, during the phase of the last waxing moon of winter. You shall report your answer when the full moon rises, tomorrow at a time two hours past dawn, to answer the riddle. The portal will only permit admission until the first full moon peaks in the sky.”
Ysmena quickly scavenged the nearby forest, returning with a piece of birch bark and a handful of green wildflower stems. “Be certain I make this bloodroot copy as you wish,” she said to Lyra and Cullen. With them watching over her shoulders, she traced a flower stem across the underside of the bark in the shapes of the World Tree’s runes. “Take this with you to help you find an answer.” She handed it to Lyra. “Is there anything either of you wish to ask the World Tree before we leave?”
Lyra shook her head and caught Cullen’s glance. His narrow gaze told her he wasn’t certain of the answers they needed.
Ysmena raised her lantern again, draping a film of her light over the branches of the mighty ash. “Thank you, Blessed World Tree. Please return yourself to intervigilium.”
Her magic eased him into a quiet state.
She repeated her procedure with the surrounding trees before leading Lyra and Cullen back along the hidden footpath.
Deep in thought, Lyra didn’t avoid the swinging limbs with as much care on the return trip and her skirt lodged in a thorn bush.
While he untangled her, Cullen rested his shoulder against her hip and mentally asked, Do you know the answers?
I know the Scribe he helped had to be Nareene, but I’m stumped on the other questions. Do you know these runes? I only know native American symbols.
Only modern Dragonspeir forms.
“Stay near to me,” Ysmena called as she looked back at the couple fallen behind on the closed trail. “These plants will move together quickly after me since they see you as foreigners.”
Reluctantly, Lyra separated from Cullen’s touch and continued single-file a
s the narrow path required. Time was short, and everything depended upon getting those last two missing books.
Chapter Sixteen: The Riddle
When Lyra and Cullen stepped into the quiet festival glade, Ysmena motioned them to the other side and stopped at the wide trunk of an old white oak. “I need to take intervigilium as well. I know you will work to solve the World Tree’s riddle, but I hope you also find some time to rest so you may enjoy the party tonight. We resume at sunset.” She tipped her lantern to touch the trunk in front of them. In response, it lowered a thick branch. “Please be seated on this limb. He will take you high to a guest chamber for our special visitors who aren’t accustomed to resting inside trunks. At this time of year, an oak that keeps its leaves until late spring is best-suited to provide cover.”
Cullen straddled the limb where she indicated and held Lyra in his arms.
The tree bent the appendage upward and transported the couple to the doorway of what looked like a well-camouflaged tree house.
Cullen transferred his weight to a stoop so narrow it would only hold one person. He opened the short wooden door and offered a hand to Lyra. Together, they crouched and tumbled into a small room.
The branch floor was covered with soft bedstraw wildflowers that gave off a hay-like scent when Lyra stepped or leaned on it. In the center lay a plush animal hide. The room nestled into a wide crook where five limbs grew from the main trunk. “This feels like a giant bird’s nest,” she said as she touched the papery birch bark and dried mud covering the spaces between boughs.
The ceiling had been made from hundreds of thin branches laced together and grouted with more mud. Dim light filtered through thin bark strips. It was just enough to show the lines of concern in Cullen’s face and his fingers fidgeting with his dragon ring.
Goosebumps rose on Lyra’s arms, and she pulled her cloak closed. “This far off the ground, it’s drafty.”
Cullen took some crudely woven wool blankets from hooks on one branch. “The beginning of spring can be blustery. Let’s settle back on that fur and try to find the answers we need.”
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