Skyborn

by Lou Anders

  Daphne smiled.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Thianna staggered up to them. “Come on,” the giantess said, wiping a palm across her mouth. “Let’s put some distance on this section of tunnel, why don’t we?”

  —

  The seagull squawked in surprise. The statue that it most loved to perch and poop upon had quite unexpectedly moved. The bird rose into the air, flapping its wings in irritation. It screeched angrily to let the stone figure know that its new conduct wasn’t appreciated. Then it flew to a nearby grove of trees, from which it expected better behavior.

  Thianna Frostborn crawled out of the gap revealed as the statue slid aside. She looked at the marble, which was carved into a dactyl dwarf. He held a mathematical compass in one hand and a scroll in the other.

  “That’s the famous inventor Damnameneus,” Daphne explained, climbing up to stand beside her.

  “I keep hearing about him,” Thianna replied. “He made the death rays…”

  “Also the Claw of Damnameneus,” said the dryad. “It is said that it can pull ships right out of the water. And he sketched plans for lots of other mechanical devices, most of which never got built. He even designed a flying machine.”

  “You’d think as much as this dwarf did for Thica,” said Desstra, stepping up beside her companions and slipping glasses over her eyes, “they’d put his statue at the top of the hill.”

  “I don’t know,” said Thianna, “I think this neighborhood seems more fun.” They were apparently in the northern part of Caldera, just upslope of a large amphitheater in the helot district. Eateries and drinking houses clustered nearby. To their left they saw a small grove of olive trees.

  “We’re on the opposite side of the island from where Karn was heading,” said the frost giant. “And I’ve got no idea if he’s still here or he made it out.”

  “We need to get out of sight,” said the elf.

  “We need to find Karn,” Thianna replied angrily.

  “Which we can do better if we’re not captured again, yes?” Desstra said.

  “I suppose that’s right,” said Thianna. “Let’s find somewhere to hide and take stock. I guess you’re better at the sneaky stuff than I am.”

  “You guess?” said Desstra pointedly.

  “Fine. You are better at sneaky stuff.” Thianna looked around. “Where’d your little tree friend go?”

  Sure enough, Daphne had vanished. It didn’t take them long to spot her, however. They saw a strange-looking plant—the dryad had returned to camouflage mode—shuffling its way toward the grove.

  “We’d better go after her,” said Desstra.

  “Must we?” the giantess said.

  “She’s pretty helpless on her own,” the elf replied. “And she did save you.”

  They followed the dryad down the slope, entering the cluster of olive trees a few minutes after she did. It was pleasant inside the grove. The noises of the crowded district were muffled, and the dappled sunlight falling through the leaves was easier on Desstra.

  “It reminds me of the Wyrdwood in summer,” she said. “Only without all the elf-eating monsters.”

  They found Daphne standing before a tall elm, the only one amid all the olive trees. Strangely she seemed to be in conversation with it. Even odder still, it appeared to be answering her.

  “Daphne,” said Desstra, “what are you doing?”

  The dryad yelped as the elf and the frost giant approached.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Just leave me here. Better yet, just go away. Better still, I’ll go away.” She bolted around the tree.

  Puzzled, Thianna and Desstra sprang after her. Daphne ran a circle around the large trunk of the elm. Desstra switched directions, circling back to cut her off. But instead, she and Thianna collided.

  “Where’d she go?” Thianna asked. “She can’t have vanished.”

  “Shh,” said Desstra. She cocked her long ears, listening. Then she let the tips drop. “She’s not in the woods. Or anywhere near here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Desstra gave Thianna a look that said she thought the giantess was a moron.

  “Okay, Long Ears, I get it. You’re sure. But where did she go, then?”

  The girls looked around the grove, then turned in unison to the large elm.

  “Don’t look at me,” it said. Then it clasped a hand over its mouth.

  Thianna and Desstra both gaped in amazement.

  “A talking tree?” the giantess said.

  Large amber eyes looked from one girl to the other. Then the tree clamped its eyes shut under brows of knotty bark.

  “We know you can talk,” said Desstra.

  The elm stayed stock-still. This in itself was odd, because a slight sea breeze was rustling the olive trees around it.

  “We heard you do it,” said Thianna.

  Still the tree didn’t move.

  Thianna grabbed two limbs near the trunk and started to shake the elm. As she continued to shake the tree, several leaves became dislodged and floated to the ground, along with little seeds that whirled around them on leafy wings.

  “Stop that,” said the elm, taking its hands from its mouth.

  “Aha!” Thianna said in triumph. The tree frowned miserably.

  “Are you a dryad like Daphne?” asked Desstra, though she didn’t think so. This creature was rooted in the earth, and its branches rose a good ways into the air.

  “Of course not,” it said. “I’m a hamadryad.”

  “Never heard of you,” said Thianna.

  “We keep our existence fairly secret,” the hamadryad explained. “We can’t move around like the dryads. Being stuck in one spot our whole lives makes us vulnerable. Also, there aren’t as many of us as there are dryads and drus.”

  “It must be terrible to be stuck in one location,” said Desstra.

  “Moving is overrated,” said the hamadryad. “Anyway, this is a rather pleasant place. And I can keep tabs on the Calderans and report—oops!” The hamadryad clamped its hands over its mouth again.

  “Report to who?” said Thianna.

  The elm closed its eyes tight.

  “I think it needs another good shake,” Desstra said. “Thianna, if you’ll do the honors.”

  The giantess again gripped the hamadryad’s branches, but the tree opened its eyes.

  “Thianna,” it said. “Are you the Thianna Frostborn?”

  “You’ve heard of me?” asked the giantess.

  The tree nodded.

  “Oh yes,” it said. “Well, that changes things. That’s quite a different story.”

  “Changes things how?” asked the elf.

  “For starters,” said the hamadryad, “I think you’d better come inside.”

  “Inside where?” Thianna asked. But a doorway had suddenly appeared in the elm’s trunk, the bark sliding open to reveal an interior of glowing green light. As Thianna and Desstra peered inside in amazement, the tree reached out with its long branches and swept them forward. They tumbled through the door, which slammed shut behind them.

  Up in the elm’s higher branches a seagull cried out angrily at all the sudden motion and flew away.

  —

  Thianna and Desstra stumbled through a green void. They could see Daphne quite clearly moving ahead of them. But there was nothing but diffuse emerald light between their position and the dryad’s. It was disconcerting to see her so sharply while everything else was fuzzy and indistinct. It made judging distance impossible.

  Thianna sniffed the air.

  “It smells,” she said. “I don’t mean badly. It just smells—” She hunted for the right word to describe the rich, verdant scent in the air.

  “Green,” said the elf. “Like growing things.”

  “No breeze, though,” observed the giantess.

  Something moved, or maybe swam, in the space beside them. They glimpsed nebulous forms that appeared and disappeared before their shapes could be fully grasped.

 
; “What are they?” Desstra asked.

  “Don’t take an interest in them,” the voice of the hamadryad sounded in the space around them.

  “Why not?” asked Thianna, searching for the elm, though its voice came from everywhere and nowhere.

  “Because then they’ll take an interest in you,” the hamadryad replied. “Just follow Daphne. We can’t have you getting lost here. Or worse.”

  “Where is she—where are we going?” Desstra asked.

  “You’ll see,” said the hamadryad. Its voice sounded more distant now.

  “Are you going away?” Thianna asked.

  “You are,” it replied. “You’ve traveled quite a distance from Caldera already. Only a little ways more to go.”

  “Where?” Desstra called, but the hamadryad was silent. Either it had faded away or it had decided to keep its mouth shut.

  When the two girls caught up with Daphne, the dryad exclaimed, “You’re not allowed in here!”

  “Tell that to your hamadryad friend,” said Desstra. “We weren’t really given a say in the matter.”

  “Where is here, anyway?” Thianna asked.

  Daphne paused before she answered. “I suppose since you’re already inside, I might as well tell you. This is a Greenway, one of the Roads Between.”

  “The Roads Between?” repeated Desstra.

  “Like the Darkways and the Shimmering Paths.”

  “Still not following you,” said Thianna.

  “Bridges between distant places,” the dryad explained. “Tunnels through the material world that open only to those who know how to find them. The Greenways are for the tree folk. Once, they connected lands all over the world. Now we can only travel across Thica.”

  “Why? What happened?” Desstra asked.

  “The hamadryads control the portals. When a road fades, it’s because a hamadryad has died.”

  “They died all over the world?” said Thianna, struck by the scale of the loss. Daphne nodded sadly.

  “The portal to Araland was the last to go,” she said. “My people used to commune with the druids there. But even that Greenway withered before I sprouted.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Thianna, who didn’t know what else to say.

  “It is what it is,” said Daphne. “The world moves in cycles. New things grow and old things die. Anyway, we’re here.”

  A column of live wood stood before them. It was devoid of bark and dotted with rings that were scattered up its length. Daphne circled around it, looking for something.

  “What is this?” Thianna asked.

  “Wait, I get it,” said Desstra. “We’re inside another tree. Those rings are its branches. This is the tree—only turned inside out!”

  “Ah,” said Daphne, smiling. “Here’s the door.” She pushed and a small section of the column opened inward.

  Thianna bent and peered inside. Or rather outside. The frost giant saw a forest through the doorway. She straightened up in shock, then walked completely around the column. She crouched and looked again. The impossible woods were still there.

  “Come on,” said Daphne. She walked through the door. Desstra and Thianna followed.

  They emerged into the forest. Turning around, Thianna found that they had stepped out of an ash tree. A doorway in its trunk was just sliding closed. The face of another hamadryad looked down at her from above.

  “Welcome to the city of Dendronos,” it said. “You are expected.”

  “How could you know we were coming?” asked Thianna. “We didn’t know it ourselves.”

  The hamadryad laid a hand on its trunk in a gesture like a person patting their belly.

  “You have gas?” asked the giantess.

  “You cannot move through the Greenways without our sensing your passage,” it explained. “And we are all connected, one hamadryad to the other. News of your arrival has been passed to the Council of Elders.”

  “Council?”

  “The ruling body of Dendronos,” the talking tree explained.

  “Look,” interrupted Desstra, pointing. “Here comes the welcome party.” Thianna followed the elf’s gaze. From out of the woods ahead, twelve large figures emerged. Each resembled a different type of tree in their bark and foliage. The giantess and the elf recognized fir, oak, olive, laurel, and date plum. But the girls’ fascination was tempered by the very obvious threat of their long, sharpened wooden spears and large round shields of bark.

  “Daphne,” said Thianna warily, “your people don’t look very glad to see us.”

  “I’m sure it will be all right,” said the dryad. “We’re just careful about visitors. You have to understand, the other Thican cities have cleared a lot of wood over the centuries. In the south they felled a whole forest to make their farmlands.”

  “Good thing I never learned to use an ax,” said Thianna. The weapon was a favorite in the north, but she had always preferred the sword.

  “It doesn’t seem like something that would go over well here, no,” agreed Desstra.

  “You will come with us,” said a female tree person who strode up to them. She stood as tall as Thianna, though she was not as broad. Her stern green eyes glared at the giantess from below a patch of oak leaves that she bore in place of hair. In addition to her shield, her bark had grown into formidable armor.

  Thianna’s hand fell to her blade.

  “Please don’t do that,” said Daphne quickly. “Let’s go with them, and I’ll explain who you are.”

  Thianna and Desstra met each other’s eyes. Neither liked the odds of the fight. Thianna relaxed her stance. Then the oak woman motioned for them to follow.

  The girls were led farther into the forest. Thianna and Desstra saw that what they thought were oddly shaped trees were actually dwellings. As they walked they picked up followers. Little green children, their bark not grown fully in, frolicked at their feet, laughing at the strange visitors.

  “I’ve seen a lot since I left my mountaintop,” said Thianna, “but this has got to be one of the strangest places I’ve ever been to.”

  “I’ve heard the wood elves sometimes live in villages full of tree houses,” said the dark elf, “but those are homes built into the branches. Not houses that were built out of trees themselves.”

  “Built is the wrong word,” said Thianna. “This city looks more like it was grown.”

  “I think it’s still growing,” observed Desstra, looking at a miniature house that seemed to be in the process of sprouting from the earth. A dryad was watering it from a can while singing softly. All around them, the homes they saw were clearly made of still-living wood. Walls and rooftops sprouted branches with leaves and flowers, even fruit. Doors and windows opened in fat trunks. Long limbs became elevated walkways connecting buildings in streets above their heads. Often, clusters of trees were entwined to create larger structures.

  “But how do you coax the trees to grow into the shapes you want?” asked Thianna. She looked at a particular tree home that seemed to be a multistory apartment house, and beside it one with high wooden arches that recalled a church or temple.

  “How do you think?” asked Daphne. “We sing to them.”

  “Silly me,” said Thianna. “Of course you do.”

  The three girls continued, their escort leading them toward the center of the city. If the houses were unusual, then the citizens of Dendronos were even more so. Everywhere, dryads and drus went about their lives in a bustling green world. The tree folk were as varied as the plants around them. They passed one fellow who had roses blooming all over his body, while the crown of his head was covered with spiky thorns where hair should be.

  The procession arrived at a glade where neatly trimmed grass formed an open-air space. It was ringed by trees that were taller than any they had seen so far. The trees’ limbs twined together over their heads, making the space seem like a cathedral or a court. Dryads and drus watched them from between the trees or from perches on their branches.

  Thianna noticed that the
children had left their side. The tree folk warriors had also fanned out to the edges of the glade, circling the girls from a distance where their spears would be the most useful. The set of Desstra’s jaw told Thianna that the dark elf had noticed this too.

  “It’s okay,” said Daphne, seeing their tension. “That’s just a precaution for our protection, I’m sure. We’ll talk to the Council of Elders now. I’ll tell them who you are and how you helped me escape.”

  “There will be no audience with the council,” said the tall oak woman. “We already know who this one is”—she eyed Thianna menacingly—“and the council has already pronounced their judgment.”

  “What do you mean judgment?” said Desstra, a note of warning in her voice.

  The woman ignored her. “You are the horn blower?” she asked Thianna.

  “I’ve been called a lot of things,” replied the giantess.

  “You are the one who wields the Horn of Osius? The only one alive to do so successfully?”

  “I blew that horn a few times, yes,” said Thianna. “But I don’t like what it does or how it’s used.”

  “Perhaps,” said the oak warrior. “But you are still a threat to us. If you were captured again, you could be persuaded, or forced, to use the horn for the Calderans.”

  “She wouldn’t do that,” objected Daphne. “Thianna wants to fight the Calderans. She’s been fighting them all along.”

  “Look at her,” said the woman. “She is a Calderan. A big one, perhaps, but still one of them.”

  “You didn’t see her in the capital,” said Daphne. “She stood up to the two queens. I’m telling you, she’s our friend.”

  “Then I am sorry,” said the tall dryad. “We have had enough of tyranny in the skies over our woods. The elders have ordered that we remove the threat entirely.”

  Thianna and Desstra instantly drew their weapons, but the circle of warriors didn’t seem concerned. The oak woman stepped away from them, pulling Daphne with her as she did so.

  “We cannot harm a hostage princess nor a Calderan for fear of retribution,” she explained. “And you are either one or the other. But we have a visitor who is under no such compunction.”

  She gestured to one edge of the glade. In the dappled shadows of the tree limbs, something approached. Something large.