Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1)

by Melina Grace

  As they started heading back to where they had left the lost one’s trail the previous afternoon, Kalen queried Syngar,

  “How am I to listen inwardly when I’m so angry with you?”

  “It’s a great mystery.”

  She sighed, “No one disturb me, I don’t care what the crisis. You two louts can deal with it.”

  “Yes boss,” Syngar replied.

  Janen thought Syngar might be pushing it a bit too far, but when he looked back at Kalen, she was shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

  “I didn’t understand half of the conversation back there?” Janen said softly to Syngar.

  “Mmmm, Kalen’s a seer. You don’t know about seers in your village?”

  “No.”

  “I thought not,” Syngar replied, cryptically. “She sees pictures.”

  “Pictures?”

  “Things that are going to happen, things that are happening. Sometimes, it’s not even as clear as a picture, just an impression, or a feeling. Sometimes she’ll get an image but then she has to contemplate it until she gets an interpretation. It’s how we arrived on time to rescue you, Bek, and Tilda.

  I didn’t get the whole story, but apparently she saw grey ones throughout the trees; they were thickest by the road. You saw the mess they left behind. They were waiting for us. None of us would have survived if we had ridden into that. She also saw you three fighting for your lives and a way through. So we rode to your aid.”

  “And Crispin listened to her? Because she saw pictures in her head?”

  “Of course he listened to her! Fool’s a person who doesn’t heed a seer.”

  Their conversation petered out and Janen was left with an even deeper respect and awe for Kalen than previously.

  Toward dusk, they left the path of the lost ones again, taking care to conceal their tracks. Kalen ordered a cold camp, not wanting to risk discovery unnecessarily. They had built a good supply of smoked meat and had picked a large bundle of golden fruit from a moonda tree that morning.

  Syngar was clutching his stomach in pain by the time they stopped and Kalen had to reseal it where the flesh had come apart. After tending to the horses, Janen climbed into his bedroll; it seemed the farther west they travelled, the cooler it was getting.

  The sun had already crossed two thirds of the sky the next day, when they came across the dead lost one in the middle of the path.

  Janen rode straight past it, glad they had one less enemy to defeat if they ever caught them. It seemed to him that whenever they were gaining on them something would happen to hold them back. It was so hard to catch them up as it was; they slept so little and he was becoming increasingly convinced they were purposely choosing the thickest brush to travel through, making it difficult to gain time with the horses.

  He heard Kalen and Syngar stop behind him, so he reined Prince in to see what they were doing. They both sat their horses, gazing down at the dead lost one. He hadn’t been there long; Janen thought they were now less than half a day behind.

  He looked at Kalen and Syngar wondering at the delay. He was surprised to see Kalen wipe away a tear.

  “He treats them like beasts! Worse than beasts. He drives them without mercy, stripping them of even a basic humanity,” she said angrily. “They didn’t even move her from the trail,” Kalen cried. “She was someone; she once had people she loved, who loved her. She deserved a decent burial, with kind words spoken over her.”

  “I’m confused,” Janen murmured to Syngar, as they rode away, “Aren’t these the grey ones we are pursuing to kill?”

  “We will kill them if we must, though they don’t fight us of their own will. It is not death that is so grievous, it is how they are treated and how degraded they become. It would be one thing to fight a people who had been misled by an evil ruler with clever words, but the Dark One doesn’t just manipulate them onto a wrong path. He blinds them to right and wrong, to good and life; he robs them of the ability to choose, takes all their freedom, and enslaves them to his will. And they don’t even know.”

  Janen looked back to where they had left the lost one, with a new understanding that they weren’t the real enemy. The real enemy was much more powerful and sinister.

  It was not a lot longer before they rode through some particularly thick scrub and found themselves at the edge of the trees. Janen pulled Prince to a halt and Kalen and Syngar reined in beside him. The trees didn’t thin out. They just ended. Janen stared out at a sea of long dry blue grass that stretched as far as he could see, rippling like water in the breeze.

  “The Barren Lands,” said Syngar.

  “I had hoped to catch them before now,” said Kalen.

  Syngar grunted in agreement.

  “There was a creek not far back, we will water the horses there before we begin our pursuit in earnest,” said Kalen. They retreated to the creek and allowed the horses a small drink, pulling them away before they had their fill. A gallop lay before them and the horses would fare better without full stomachs.

  “Better let them graze awhile as well. They can eat the grass out there, but it isn’t very good,” he said to Janen. “I wish I had more grain”.

  While the horses cropped the grass, Kalen inspected Syngar’s wound. It hadn’t opened again, but she smeared some more paste over it for good measure, before binding it tightly again.

  “The last thing you need is to be galloping.”

  “Then I shall allow my horse to do it for me.”

  They mounted before the horses had eaten too much, Janen brimming with impatience.

  “Finally, we will be able to catch them!”

  “Yes, though I think we have lost our opportunity to get to them before their reinforcements,” said Kalen.

  Kneeing their horses, they headed for the edge of the trees and the wide-open plains of the Barren Lands.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Caris woke to the sound of children laughter. She lay still, not opening her eyes. She smiled at the sound of their joy and wondered why they were playing so close to her house instead of down by the creek. She could feel, in the air, it was another fine day without rain. The birds were twilling happily in the trees and she could hear the sound of a slight breeze rustling leaves.

  Caris frowned, strange though, that the children should sound so far below, and why is my bed so uncomfortable? Birds in the trees! Caris sat up quickly in confusion and a sharp pain shot through the back of her head.

  “Easy,” soothed a melodious voice Caris didn’t recognise.

  Caris looked around frantically; she was in a dark room and could just see a tall slender woman making her way towards her.

  “Where am I?” Caris demanded. She remembered The Singer and felt a pang of loss; she remembered fighting the hairy beasts; Crispin going down and herself being ploughed into the ground. She also had a vague memory of waking in this room before, of her head being tended, of wet cloths being held to her forehead, and of drinking water laced with foul tasting herbs.

  “You are in the trees.”

  Caris looked at her in annoyance. She was not in the mood to be teased.

  “Where’s Crispin? Is he okay?” The realisation engulfed her that if he wasn’t, she was to blame. Why did I look away from The Singer?

  “Your friend is still unconscious, but our best healer tends him and he believes he will recover with time.”

  Caris’ head pounded and so she gave in to the need to lie down again. She was relieved Crispin still lived but uneasy with this strange lady who she couldn’t see clearly and who refused to tell her where she was.

  “Why is it so dark in here?”

  “When you woke previously the light seemed to hurt your eyes.” She replied as she rose from her seat, beside Caris, and walked to a window. She pulled the curtain back a crack, allowing in enough light to lift the gloom without it falling directly on Caris. Caris gasped in surprise. The stranger had large pointy ears and eyes shaped like a bindoo’s.

  �
�Who are you?” Caris finally managed to breathe out.

  “My name is Amarin.” Caris looked at her, dissatisfied with her reply but not knowing how to ask politely ‘What are you?’

  Amarin smiled at her and said simply, “I am an elf”.

  “An elf?”

  “You have not heard of us?”

  “There are more of you?”

  Amarin laughed, a high tinkling sound full of joy, “There are many of us”. She paused. “What are you called by?”

  “Caris”

  “Ah, a good name.”

  “My aunt chose it,” Caris mumbled.

  “Rest now Caris, while I get you some food.”

  Caris watched her leave through a long flap hanging from a door. As Amarin stepped out, Caris caught a glimpse of thick branches stretching against a backdrop of blue sky. She closed her eyes unable to make sense of the view. Her thoughts were racing and she could not seem to order them. Somehow, they had been rescued.

  Amarin’s appearance was strange and yet she was remarkably beautiful. She could sense no harm in her; the elves had nursed her back to health and were caring for Crispin. At least Amarin said they were. Caris desperately wanted to find him and make sure of him herself, but her head was in so much pain, she doubted she could even stand. I can only trust her and hope she is as good as she is beautiful. Caris drifted back to sleep.

  Caris had not dozed long when Amarin gently roused her. She helped Caris to sit up and offered her a wooden cup. Caris crinkled her nose, expecting the water to taste of bitter herbs, but as Amarin moved the cup under her nose, the sweet smell of fruit wafted up. Caris sipped it hesitantly and was surprised to find it tasted like apricots; it was silky and warmed her throat as it went down. Before she was finished, her headache was gone.

  Caris didn’t think she was very hungry, but she quickly finished the small bowl of stew Amarin passed her. She was looking to see if Amarin had brought any other food with her when Amarin said, “It is better that you don’t eat too much straight away, I will bring some more for you later.” She handed her a glass of water and Caris drank it quickly. I’m so thirsty. She glanced up at Amarin, “Thank you for the food and your care of me”.

  “You’re welcome,” Amarin smiled.

  “The last I remember, a huge hairy creature had knocked me to the ground?”

  “A geboath,” Amarin replied. “The scouts arrived at that moment. A pity they weren’t a few moments sooner, but a relief they weren’t moments later.” Amarin smiled again.

  She never seems to stop smiling, even in a sick room. Still, it’s more relaxing than being tended by someone over-worried, Caris thought.

  “It was lucky they happened upon us.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t chance. They heard The Singer’s summons and raced there as quickly as they could.”

  “The Singer? She’s here?” Caris started hurriedly out of the bed.

  “No, the wind blew her on.”

  “The wind blew her?” Caris asked anxiously.

  “Just a saying we have. She seems to blow in and out like the wind. No one knows where she will appear or how long she will stay. But she always brings the seed’s of life and refreshment.”

  “She certainly does bring that, I don’t think we would have survived if not for her and the Revealer,” Caris said lying down.

  Smiling, Amarin said, “I will leave you to rest. There is water by your bed and a bell in case you need anything. I will not be far”.

  Caris closed her eyes as Amarin left. Her insecurity at having woken in an unfamiliar dark place with a strange woman had abated. She speaks as if her people know The Singer, that, more than anything else reassured her. It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep.

  Caris awoke feeling much better. She sat up cautiously and took a long drink of water. Slowly, she rose to her feet and found her earlier weakness much relieved. The room was mostly bare; there was the pallet she had slept on, a chair, a pitcher of water, and a woven mat under the window. Caris crossed to the window and shielding her eyes pulled back the curtain.

  What she saw took her breath away, or rather what she didn’t see. The ground was far beneath her and instead of looking out at tree trunks; she stared into the foliage and branches of tall trees. Suddenly feeling the walls of her room were too flimsy, Caris stepped back from the window and sat in the middle of the floor.

  It took Caris a while to calm her breathing, but curiosity won out. She returned cautiously to the window and, at arm’s length, pulled back the curtain that had fallen into place when she’d left it. Carefully, she hooked it open and retreated to the middle of the room, where she stood gazing in awe at the amazing view.

  Huge trees spread before her. She had seen, when at the window, that she was higher than she had ever been before. The distance was farther than she could shoot an arrow. The branches outside her window were wide enough to walk a horse and plough along in comfort, and the tops of the trunks that still reached far above her into the sky, were wide enough to sleep a family.

  The size of the trees was astounding but it was their sheer beauty that held Caris spellbound. The trunks were a deep red brown colour and the foliage a deep green. In some places, the leaves grew in thick clumps, while in others wide swathes of blue sky highlighted their majesty. The whole place shone with health and verdure. The very air smelt fresher, so high up, and Caris drank in huge gulps greedily.

  Hungry to see more, Caris walked cautiously to the door and pulled back the flap. Outside was a large branch. Gulping back her fear, she realised her room was sitting on nothing but that. She tied back the flap and once again moved into the middle of the room, this time sitting down.

  Through the door, Caris could see a whole village amongst the treetops. She sat, slowly taking in the view. Eventually, she rose and poured herself some more water from the wooden pitcher by her pallet before sitting once again to peer in astonishment out the door.

  The room Caris occupied was small compared to many of the others. The largest dwellings were built around the trunks, with floors spanning from one branch to another. The farther from the trunks the smaller the dwellings became, until eventually they were just isolated rooms like hers appeared to be. She could see the trunk of her branch seventy paces away and hoped the branch was still strong this far from its base. Caris comforted herself by viewing the elves passing happily in and out of huts similar to hers on other branches. The branches seemed strong, not even swaying in the wind.

  A group of children ran across a swaying rope bridge strung between branches, before climbing through a hole and grabbing hold of a smooth wooden pole and quickly sliding down.

  “No!” Caris called out, thinking they would fall. She stood and, forgetting her own safety, rushed to the door. The first child was sliding at an exhilarating speed down the pole that, Caris could now see, reached all the way to the ground. What an adventure to grow up in a place like this. Caris wanted very much to explore but there was another room on her branch thirty paces away and while she didn’t want to walk into someone’s home, neither was she game enough to venture the rope bridge that connected her branch to another nearby.

  She decided to accustom herself to walking along the branch as a beginning, and just hoped there were other ways of reaching the ground than the one she had seen the children take.

  Caris wanted very much to sit on her bottom and pull herself along the branch from the dubious safety of a sitting position, but chanting to herself wide enough for a horse and a plough she stepped out the door. Staying in the very middle of the branch and keeping her eyes fixed on the next dwelling, Caris walked steadily forward. She was within an arms length of the room’s door when she became self-conscious about intruding. She stopped unsteadily and, with her arms held out to balance, turned around.

  Amarin found her seated half way along the branch luxuriating in the sun and fresh air and drinking in the view. Caris looked up as Amarin approached, “This place is amazing!”

>   “You’ve done well for a human, have you been in trees before?”

  “I’ve never seen trees like these before! They’re huge! ... and beautiful.”

  “Yes they are beautiful,” Amarin said, looking around in admiration. “I was coming to see if you wanted some more food but as you’re up and about, perhaps you would like to meet some others?”

  “What I would really like is to see Crispin.”

  “Your friend? Of course you do. We will go there now and then if you are well enough we will eat with my family.”

  Her request granted so readily, Caris suddenly had a fearful thought. “Is he far? I mean how do we get to him?”

  Laughing, Amarin said, “He’s only thirty paces away across that rope bridge.” She watched, as Caris turned white. “But that is not the way I’ll take you. Come,” she said, reaching down to give Caris a hand up. Amarin led her back along the branch and into the hut that had previously blocked Caris’ path. “These are my work rooms,” she said entering. They passed through two rooms full of leaves, herbs, and ointments.

  “You study plants?” Caris asked eagerly. She had loved learning the little Crispin could teach, about the different qualities of plants, and was eager to learn more.

  “Yes, it is with the healing properties of plants that you have made such a quick recovery. You have an interest in plants?”

  “I know very little, where I come from we had a limited variety. I learnt a few things from my aunt when I was young though, before she passed on. Crispin has been teaching me but his knowledge is not very extensive. Plants fascinate me.”

  “They are fascinating.” Amarin paused outside the large dwelling closest to the tree trunk. Now that she was closer, Caris could see a thin path winding around the rooms to the next branch. She blanched.

  “I do not think you are yet well enough or balanced enough for that path. Come,” Amarin said, smiling gently. “These are my rooms, and Jeniel?” She called out.

  “I’m in.” A beautiful voice sang back from the next room.