by H. A. Harvey
Autumn stared at him in her uncanny way, then released his wrist and snatched the sword by its scabbard. Nian waited, but she didn’t say anything. He sighed and nodded to himself, then stepped under the canopy of the old ash trees. He turned back for just a moment, to hold a glimpse of Autumn as much as to speak.
“Don’t let anyone come after me.”
. . .
Nian picked his way slowly through the dark, ancient trees. The air was filled with a sweet scent that was almost overpowering. A soft, cool breeze drifted into the grove from behind him. Nian could hear soft music floating on the wind. Some of the notes reminded him of Missus Brighthold’s glass chimes that she hung out for spring and summer, while others were like wind through a great hollow log or soft drumbeat. Nian couldn’t be certain how long he walked through the dense grove, but he gradually became aware that the light in the grove had brightened. It suddenly struck him as odd that it would be getting brighter when he’d entered the grove close to noon.
When he turned back to check if he could still see the woods outside the cove, Nian found that not only could he not see out, he wasn’t entirely certain that he’d been moving in as straight a line as he thought. Each path through the grove looked identical. He looked this way and that, but couldn’t be certain which way was back, or which resumed his course. Suddenly, Nian’s eye caught sight of an odd figure.
The small being stood silently, watching him from between the trees a dozen yards away. The creature had arms and legs, much like any mortal, but its body seemed to be composed entirely of twining, mossy tree roots. Desaid, like Rowan, had skin that looked and felt much like the stalk of a vine, but this thing’s body was a mass of living roots. The thing was small, perhaps a few inches shorter than Autumn. In the midst of a coiling mass of roots that seemed to form an off-kilter head, the coils parted in two slit-like openings that seemed to serve as eyes. From within the thing, a yellow-green light shone dimly through the eyelets and all of dozens more breaches in its form where the roots didn’t quite touch. The root-man didn’t seem to breathe, but the roots coiled and flexed almost constantly. Quite unexpectedly, the creature’s entire form trembled, emitting a creaking groan that sounded like tree limbs stretching in a hot wind. The thing turned and walked away from Nian, quickly vanishing around one of the ash trunks.
Nian bolted after the root-man as fast as he could. When he rounded the ancient ash tree’s trunk, there was no sign of the thing, nor did Nian spend much time thinking of where to look for it. He found himself standing in the midst of a straight path between the trees as broad as a two-wagon road. The path extended either direction for what seemed like miles. Nian turned left, then right, but both paths looked identical.
Nian stood debating the prudence of picking one at random when a tinkling of bells sounded behind him, their light notes almost sounding like a child’s laughter. He spun around, but there wasn’t anyone to be seen. However, a small, feathery strip of blue floated just over the ground about a bowshot down the path. Nian jogged down the path to find the strange splash of color was an elegant blue iris. He knelt down next to the flower, hypnotized at the elegant curve of its bladelike petals. He reached out to stroke the beautiful flower with his fingertips, but froze at the last moment. As the thought occurred to him that it might not be a good idea to touch anything, Nian looked around. The pathway was still empty of any sort of people, but a second iris stood another bowshot down the path.
Nian had no way to be sure how long he followed the path. The upper canopy still shone with a bright, golden light, though Nian felt sure it had to be at least nearing dusk. He tried counting flowers, but was so tired that he hadn’t made it far beyond a dozen before losing count. When he came to his next flower, a small glass table stood directly behind it. The table was of singularly elegant craftsmanship, its twelve legs were fashioned to look like coiling ivy. The upper leaves of the vines curled up and outward, supporting the circular top that seemed impossibly thin, made to emulate a pool of water rippling out from a stone dropped in its center. Upon the table sat a crystal bowl filled with fruit, cheeses, and bread arranged around an ornate vial that seemed to contain honey.
The bread smelled like it had just come from an oven, and there were grains in some for which Nian knew no names. Nian scooped up one of the warm, soft buns and tore it into two pieces. He lifted one half to his nose and inhaled deeply. The bread’s aroma was intoxicating and made Nian realize it had been a day or more since he’d eaten. Sadly, he also suddenly recalled a bard once telling a tale of a man who ate food from a table set for him in an enchanted wood. The man was never heard from again, which had always made Nian wonder how the tale came to be told in the first place. Still, Nian decided it was best to go hungry. He set the pieces of bun down in the bowl and jogged on as best he could. Two flowers later, Nian couldn’t press on any further. He leaned his back against one of the thick ash trees to rest a moment, but had sunk down onto his rump before he knew it. Nian resolved to get back up, but the music and soft, sweet scent drifting through the air mingled with the warm light to hold him down and gently lull him to sleep.
. . .
It was early evening when Rowan stirred and opened his eyes. Everyone but Autumn was still asleep. He rose slowly to avoid waking the others, especially Kaesa, Xain, and Nian. They’d been awake for more than two days straight and both had been forging ahead despite serious wounds. Autumn sat on the roots of their elm tree shelter. Her knees were pulled tightly to her chest and the sword Nian had been wearing leaned against the tree beside her while she stared emptily into the grove. Rowan walked softly over and sat near the Dryad quietly.
“You should get some rest. I feel bad for dropping off and leaving you to keep watch.” Rowan stretched stiffly and looked around, “Where’d Nian end up crawling off to hibernate?”
“He didn’t. He went into the grove.” Autumn answered flatly, and her hand shot to Rowan’s shoulder to hold him back from standing up, “He doesn’t want anyone to follow him.”
Rowan glared at Autumn, “He’s my friend.”
“Then do what he asks and trust him. Besides, he left hours ago. Catching him in a fairy maze now would be impossible.”
Autumn kept a firm hold of his shoulder. Rowan was tempted to shake free and go after Nian anyway, but something made him pause. Perhaps his friend’s intuition was rubbing off on him, but Rowan sensed that the Dryad was not so much holding him back as holding onto him.
“So, is this where I throw you across the grass?” Rowan asked evenly.
Autumn stared back at Rowan for a moment, then took her hand off his shoulder. “That was different. I can’t give him what he wants, and when he tries it just leaves me off-balance and weak. I’m no use to anyone like that.”
“He didn’t want anything from you yesterday.” Rowan countered, “He saw you in pain and wanted to let you know you’re not alone.”
“I am alone.”
“No, you’re an idiot.”
Autumn took a swing at him, but Rowan was ready. He swatted her arm away and slapped her hard across the cheek.
“Less than a week before you knelt at Adair’s grave, who by the way I did everything I could to save, Nian got to find his mother bludgeoned to death in a forest clearing. He threw away a clear path to finally get ahead of his sister’s captors, not to mention almost his life, to rescue you. When he tried to touch you, it was probably just to let you know he understood your pain.”
Autumn balled her fist, but didn’t try to hit Rowan again. Instead she turned back to watch the grove in silence again. Rowan sat for a minute or two watching as well. He wondered how Nian was managing, and though he desperately wanted to chase after him, Autumn was right on that point. He couldn’t help Nian now. All he could do was trust him.
“I remember you telling Nian balance is life in a fight.”
“My father used to say that, and it’
s true.”
“Elly said that, but she just said balance is life.”
“They could have been from different places. Sayings change over time.”
“Or, you could be remembering wrong. I’ve been thinking about it, and that’s probably why she, and you from what I hear, were so unstoppable, despite being women.”
“Be careful.”
Rowan chuckled, “I said that on purpose. It’s not despite what you are, but because of what you are, or more accurately, because you know yourself and use every part of yourself in harmony. In other words, balance.”
Autumn nodded, “That’s why I don’t want Nian around me, he throws that off.”
“That’s not possible. Someone else doesn’t have anything to do with you knowing yourself. Did you stop to think that maybe it’s you throwing off your balance?”
“It only happens-“
“Around Nian, or just now when a wood rat with two real fights under his belt got the best of you. Just now is understandable, nobody’d be at the top of their game after what you’ve been through. But around Nian, maybe you’re off balance because you’re ignoring part of yourself.” Rowan stood, having made his point. “I’m going hunting. It’ll clear my head and it’d be nice to have something good cooking when the others wake. You should get some sleep.”
. . .
Nian woke slowly. At first, he just became aware that he was lying upon and within soft, smooth, warm fabric. Whatever bed he found himself resting in, Nian didn’t want to open his eyes. After so many nights spent on cold, hard earth, he was more than half afraid the dream would vanish if he opened them. Then he remembered that he had fallen asleep by a tree in the fairy aisle and sat up sharply.
Nian lay in a room, of sorts. He was on an immense silk cushion and covered with a comforter of the same smooth fabric. Both items were so impossibly soft and airy that they seemed to be stuffed with clouds. The room’s floor seemed to be formed by several broad branches of ash running alongside each other. Smaller limbs stretched up around the floor and some plant that seemed half vine, half golden moss bound the branches together and formed a semi-solid screen around the bower.
After he’d spent a moment examining his surroundings, Nian suddenly realized he wasn’t wearing any clothes. His wounds were healed without a mark and he smelled like the iris flowers he remembered chasing. Nian sighted a series of looping boughs forming a shelf across the way with several neatly folded bundles set neatly upon it.
Despite seeing no one in the room, Nian wound the blanket around himself before crossing to the shelf. He only recognized two items on the shelf, his belt satchel and the wooden brooch from Kolel. Everything he remembered was still within the pouch, but he felt sure they too had been cleaned and repaired.
The clothes on the shelf were definitely not his. The largest items were breeches and a hooded cloak of dark blue wool trimmed and lined in finely woven satin and embroidered with what looked like silver thread in a pattern made to look like a bordered star field. Beside them lay a white silk tunic and a dark blue sash of silk. Beneath the shirt, he found a pair of knee-high moccasins that seemed to be made from heavy plant fibers.
“They’re for you.”
Nian jumped at the woman’s voice coming from the doorway beside him. He spun to see Riona standing just outside the bower. She was barefoot, and wearing a sheer gown of green silk that hung loosely down to her mid-calf. Her short, blond hair was filled with impossibly small braids and held back off her face by a laurel woven from bright green vines sporting dozens of tiny red blossoms. In her hands, Riona carried a silver platter with her left and a crystal pitcher on the right. The platter contained similar fare to that of the glass table, while the pitcher swam with what looked for all the world like liquid silver. Riona laughed and walked over to sit upon the cushion. A curl of branch bent itself out from the wall and provided a shelf for her to rest her burdens upon.
“Well,” Riona laughed again, “Get dressed and come eat.”
Nian waved the blanket towards the door, “Do you mind?”
“Who do you think washed you? They don’t even like the smell of clean mortals very much.”
Nian felt himself blushing deep red. “You did what? Why?”
“I washed you.” Riona answered impatiently, “Look I didn’t take advantage of the situation . . . I kinda have to do whatever they want, and they wanted you presentable before you meet her. If it makes you feel better, I suggested new clothes, they don’t really have a problem with naked.”
Nian paused, remembering that Riona wasn’t here entirely of her free will. He smiled apologetically, then turned back to the shelf. He shrugged the blanket up over his shoulders and held it with one hand long enough to tug on the trousers. He let the blanket fall as he tied a small white cord he found in the waistband, then grabbed the shirt to pull it on as he walked back over to the cushion.
“Is . . . is the food really safe?” Nian asked, eyeing the tray hungrily.
Riona laughed again as she pulled a plump plum from the tray and took a bite. “It’s delicious. They wouldn’t dare play tricks on an Emissary, Nian. They knew what you were before I told them who you were.”
“What? How?”
“Are you going to just repeat that all through lunch?” Riona giggled, “I don’t know how, I’m their pet, not a fairy. As far as I can tell, their mother is somehow tied to Creation, like the Incarnates, but less dramatic and older.”
“Mother?”
“Yeah, queen sounds like a better title I guess, but its how they seem to refer to her.” Riona shrugged, “A lot is hard to process, I think they get frustrated with me sometimes.”
“What do you mean hard to process?”
“They don’t speak like we do. It’s more like . . . I dunno if you are much for music, but it’s like if you ever heard a really good song, how the different parts of a melody can almost put a thought, or a picture, or a word in your head. Except they’re all so used to doing it that sometimes it’s like trying to pick out those pieces of melody when there’s like thousands of master composers all performing at once.”
Nian walked over and cautiously picked off a hunk of cheese. He sniffed the fragrant bit of what smelled like smoked cheddar. Nian eyed Riona, who laughed and nodded, urging him to help himself. Nian’s stomach loudly agreed with the girl, but he set the cheese down. Something still made him uneasy. Riona laughed aloud again as a branch swept out from the wall and scooped him over to sit across from her at the improvised table of the platter.
“She doesn’t want you harmed, Nian. If she did, do you really think they’d have gone to the trouble of carrying you here, healing you, and getting you cleaned up? If you keep snubbing her hospitality, you’re bound to upset her.”
Nian stared at Riona while he tried to think of reasons to avoid the meal besides a half-remembered fairy tale. Finally, his stomach won out, and he scooped up a cluster of white berries. At first, Nian popped one into his mouth and chewed experimentally. The berry filled his mouth with a sweet juice that was also so tart that his lips drew taught almost involuntarily. His expression must have been ridiculous, because Riona fell back on the cushion in laughter. When she sat back up, she picked a few articles off the tray and offered them to Nian.
“You are really ridiculous sometimes, you know that?” Riona laughed again, “First you’re all paranoid like a fox that smells something strange. Then when you do eat, instead of a pear, or piece of bread, or anything else you could recognize from Tyre, you pick the weirdest thing on the tray. Here, try another one with a bit of cheese or a slice of melon.”
Nian tried another berry with a piece of cheese. The combination was amazing, and in short order, Nian was devouring different combinations of fruits, nuts, and cheeses, spacing them out with mouthfuls of honeyed bread. Riona drew two small drinking bowls off the top of the pitcher and filled ea
ch with the silvery liquid. She sipped lightly at her bowl as she set the other on a spot of the tray Nian had already cleared. Nian paused to join her in taking a draught. The beverage was some manner of mead, but definitely had the tang of the white berries and some other bitter tinge to it. Upon swallowing the first mouthful, Nian felt a warmth pass through him, and the soreness and weariness of his travels seemed to melt away.
“They call it something like living nectar. In moderation, it invigorates the body and wakes the senses. Too much though, and they say it will bring a night you wished you remembered.”
Nian gulped, involuntarily finishing the long drink he had begun. Riona tittered at him and washed down a strawberry with another sip of nectar. Nian set the bowl aside and decided to stick to the food. As he bit into the soft flesh of a ripe plum, Nian eyed Riona. The green gown and laurel branches looked radiant on her. He watched as she sucked a berry off her fingers. His eyes followed down along her tawny skin as she swallowed. Nian swallowed nervously and Riona laughed again, causing her chest to heave enticingly. Suddenly, Nian blinked and looked up at her.
“That’s what it is!’ He exclaimed. “You don’t laugh this much, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard you giggle.”
“I’m happy, Nian.” Riona smiled at him and played with the low collar of her dress. “This place is music, and laughter, and dancing. It has a way of making sorrow melt away like a bad dream.”
“Riona,” Nian spoke carefully, “You know I’m here to rescue you, right?”
“Don’t be silly.” Riona giggled and slid a foot over to caress his ankle. “Why would I need rescuing from happiness? I am, well was, the only human here though. It can be lonely.”
Nian drew his feet back to tuck them under the bench. “Riona, I told you that you didn’t have to help me if you don’t want to, remember? You remember what we were doing before you came here?”