Melianarrheyal

by G. Deyke

  ~*~

  This forest is the place I like best of all those I have yet seen in this world. It is alive, but being here doesn't hurt. It doesn't feel so wrong. I can almost see in colors and I can smell and I can hear and it is almost like a normal place in my own world, although my nature sense is still much weakened. Ty's and Therrin's talents have always been stronger; maybe they still are.

  The trees are tall and dark, and grow close together; those which are neither bare yet nor needled hold leaves in bright flashes of color, all orange and red like fire. The wet earthy ground is carpeted with fallen leaves and needles. I can smell rain in the air, although I have seen no trace of any weather but thin gray clouds since we came to this world. And there are things moving here, living. There are animals in this forest. There are tracks in the bare mud, and there is a rustling all around – though it might be only the wind shaking drops of cold rainwater from the branches – and every so often I can hear birdsong somewhere in these trees.

  I breathe deep. The air is clean and fresh, and chill with autumn. I pull my coat around myself more tightly against the cold and the wet.

  “It must be somewhere in here,” says Therrin. “The witch said I must use the chalice to find it.” She takes it from her satchel, and holds it and looks at it. It is full now, suddenly, with something clear like water. I remember. The witch said the Princess could do this, could fill it with only a thought. I remember.

  “It's cold as ice,” she says, shivering. “I hope I can find my way back. Wait for me here.”

  She takes a swallow of the liquid, and falls. Ty catches her by the arm and lays her down more gently; she lies there as though asleep, or dead. I hope the witch did not betray us. I hope she will come back.

  I sit down on a half-rotted log to wait. There is wet green moss on it beside me, and behind it is a cluster of small white mushrooms. I touch them. They are cold and wet and real, not at all like the ashy gray world outside this forest, but my fingers feel dead as they brush against them.

  Ty sits across from me, on a big rock, leaning back against a tree. He watches Therrin's body without expression. She looks hollow, like an unfilled bowl. Her fingers are still curled around the stem of the silver chalice, which is as empty and dry as it ever was. But it must have held something, else what did she drink?

  I wonder whither whatever filled her has gone. I hope it will come back. I hope it is finding what it must learn, learning what it must find.

  She is still breathing before me, but barely. I remember when Ty lay still like this and I thought he might die. I don't think Therrin can die now, here. If anything, she is already dead. There is something missing from her, something gone. I watch her, afraid to look away, afraid that her shallow breaths may cease.

  At last her eyes open. She sits up at once and says: “Curse! It is this way,” pointing. I stand up from my log, and we walk in that direction.

  “What happened?” asks Ty with interest as we walk. “What did it feel like?”

  “The drink was ice-cold,” she tells. “I thought I would be put out like a flame. Then – I was standing beside you, beside myself, for at the same time I could see myself lying on the ground. I tried to say something, but you couldn't see or hear me. So I walked away. It was very much like a dream. In a way it was wonderful – I was freer than ever before – I knew I could fly if I wished it – but it was also very strange.”

  I shudder, listening. It sounds like a horrible feeling, losing one's body as she did. I am glad that the silver chalice is reserved for the Princess of this realm, that I must never endure such a thing.

  “I spoke to a tree, knowing somehow that it would listen,” she goes on, “and it answered me. It told me – no, it showed me – where the treasure is. Then I came back; at first I couldn't find my way, but the necklace was still with me, and when I looked through it I could see something – like a thread of shining silver – which I followed back to my body. And then when I touched myself I woke up.”

  I am glad I did not have to see this speaking tree. I only hope Therrin knows whither she is leading us.

  “Here!” she says at last, as we come to a great tree larger than any I have seen before. Its crown towers high above us, filled with twisting round branches and little black hollows where birds or squirrels have nested before.

  “Here,” she says again, patting the ground between two great winding roots, and she starts digging in the cold earth. After a moment Ty crouches to help her, and then I join them, digging with my hands. It is cold and wet and it stings my hands where I scratched open the skin.

  At last Therrin feels something hard in the wet dirt, and carefully pulls it free. It must be the third treasure: a knife sheathed in black leather, maybe as long as my forearm with the hilt. It is all black, even when she draws it from its sheath. Its hilt is wrapped in black leather and its blade is of obsidian, with a jagged edge. I shiver seeing it. I can picture that edge sliding against my skin so easily, cutting through me. The very thought hurts. I have to look away.

  “I hope this will be enough to free him,” she says, fastening it to her belt behind her other knife.

  “That's all three treasures, then,” says Ty: “we can go back through the gate. Curse, can we reach it today? – Tonight?”

  It nods.

  “Which way?”

  It points, and we follow.

  The dark and living forest turns all dusty gray again, but I don't dislike it quite as much now. Maybe it is because I know we will soon be back home. We must spend only a few more hours in this fading world.

  Therrin asks us to hurry, because her world is dying around us and because her treasures will be safer in our own world, as less people might hope to steal them there. I hurry gladly. I don't want to stay here any longer than we must.

  Night is all around us when we arrive at last at the green living circle of summer around the gate; but it is day here. It is still the same day that Karr and his King flew through, I remember. We step out of the night and into the day, and the fairies float all around us.

  In the shared tongue, they speak into our minds: “Do you have the three treasures?”

  “I'm not to tell you,” answers Therrin.

  “And we are not to let you through without them. You must save Karr, Princess, and quickly. We cannot allow delay.”

  “We must go through now.”

  “You must go through only if you have all three treasures, and will proceed directly to the place where he is being held.”

  Therrin frowns. She says, “The witch warned me to tell no one how many treasures I had collected. She did not say to tell no one but the fairies.”

  Their tinkling laugh sounds in my head. “Do you think we will claim the kingship? No, Princess, that is your task. And we will not hinder you: you have our word.

  “Now tell us: do you have the treasures?”

  She bites her lip and nods. “Yes.”

  “Well done, Princess. We offer our congratulations. We give you and your companions the power to step through the gate.”

  There is the feeling of lightning in my veins again, and the gate glows in my demon-vision. I follow Therrin and Ty through, into that sparking veil. Darkness surrounds me and then spits me out, into a cold rainy night. Oh, how I have longed for this bitter windy cold! I whistle to Snake (he is here, he is here beneath me, he is here with me again – thank you for bringing me through that world alive – thank you for not forsaking me) and I kiss the wet rock beneath me. Again and again I whistle. I am so glad to be here. I am so glad.

  This world is gentle, neither sharp and overwhelming nor dead and gray, and my nature sense is working normally again: I feel Ty and Therrin beside me, and I feel the fish in the ocean below us, and I feel the gentle life of the world all around me. And the gods are beneath us. We are back on hallowed ground. Wherever we may walk or sail, so long as we are on this side of the gate we shall never be truly alone, for the gods may listen when we call them. And even i
f they do not, we are close to them at least. We are not alone. I whistle again. Snake, hear my call. Snake, hear me. Snake, know that I am here, that I am back in the world to which I belong.

  I don't see nor feel any response, but in my mind I can feel his coils wrapping around me in comfort, welcoming me home.

  Above us the sky is dark and cloudy, rent by flashes of lightning. Far away behind the stone arch that is the gate, the sky is clear, and there are stars, and the violet moon that I have always known. The sea around us is alive with rain and wind; high waves dash violently against the stone path, sometimes washing over it and mixing saltwater with the rain.

  Therrin loves this weather, I know. The last time we encountered a storm at sea, I thought she was mad for loving it. Now I think it is the most wonderful thing I have ever seen. I would endure a thousand such storms – I would have my body torn to pieces by the winds – I would drown in these waters a million times – I would be burned all away to ashes by the stabbing lightning – if only I could die here, on this side of the gate.

  I would laugh aloud with delight, but I cannot spare the breath, nor will I change the hold of my lips. If I make a sound, any sound at all, it is a whistle to Snake. Thank you, Snake, for bringing me home. Thank you for letting me see this moment. I was not lost to the bane of the Unnamed Lands, and though that may have been more Therrin's help and Ty's than yours, thank you for being here now.

  Snake, I am glad to be home.

  Above my whistling is the constant heavy drumming of falling rain (it stings when it hits me; isn't it wonderful? I can feel it!), and the breaking of the waves against the rocks, and the claps of thunder, when they come. I can hardly hear Ty's shout: “I hope the boat has survived this!”

  I don't want to move yet to find it. I am lying on the ground, as low as I can be, as near as possible to the gods, and I am kissing the salty wet path beneath me between my whistles. I am embracing the ground, and the entire world, as well as I can with my short arms. The world is too large to clasp to my breast, but I try. I don't want to let go.

  “Come on!” Therrin yells near my ear. I can see that she is grinning, but her voice is urgent. “We can't well camp here on the path! We must go to the boat!”

  “We can't well camp there either!” Ty yells back.

  I press myself to the ground, and give a last whistle, and a last kiss. Now I stand. There is fresh sea air all around and the scent of rain. The water is frothing and the air is wet. Those strands of my hair too short to be bound back are clinging to my sodden face.

  The path is slick with water from sea and sky. We hold hands tightly to keep from falling as we walk down its curves toward the ocean and toward the spire of rock to which we bound our boat. Several times I slip and nearly fall; when they see that I am the least sure-footed among us, I am moved to the center of our line, with Ty on my left side and Therrin on my right. I grip their hands as tightly as I can, afraid to let go, afraid the water on our hands will let us slip apart.

  The path is narrow, and our deaths await us in the storm-ridden waters below. We walk slowly and carefully against the buffeting wind, and at last we reach the bottom of the path to find our boat overturned but undamaged. We right it and load our supplies, standing to our knees in swirling water.

  “Now what?” Ty shouts against the wind. “We cannot rest here, nor set sail in this weather!”

  “We can't wait!” Therrin shouts back. “The Unnamed Lands are dying! We must reach the stone plain!”

  “Thilua is that way,” he says, gesturing wildly; “but we can't be sure of where on the coast we'll land, if we set out now – nor whether we'll land at all! This storm may well kill us!”

  “I'll use my talent to keep us safe! The storm is too strong for me, but I can at least direct the lightning away from us!”

  Ty looks as though he would protest, but perhaps he thinks it isn't worth shouting over the storm. He raises and lowers his head and shoulders in a sigh, shrugs, and nods his agreement. We climb into the boat.

  Therrin must fix her talent on keeping us safe from the storm, so our only means of reaching Thilua is to row. Ty is the strongest among us, so he takes one set of oars while Therrin and I share the other, and we row with all our strength. My arms still know the pain of rowing. Has it truly been only three nights since we first reached the gate? I feel like I've been gone forever.

  The storm rages around us. I don't know if we're moving forward at all, but the stone path rising out of the ocean is quickly lost in the waves, and now there is only water all around us.

  At last Ty shouts: “We cannot keep rowing like this! You must use your talent, Therrin!”

  She shakes her head. “The storm is too strong! I cannot calm it!

  “Then direct it! We have no choice!” I don't think I have ever seen this much passion in his dark eyes. He looks desperate, almost afraid. He has always been so calm – I wonder that this storm could change that. “Curse! Show her the way!”

  The curse points its flat black arm. It wavers as though viewed through smoke when the rain passes through it, but always reforms unharmed.

  Therrin shakes her head, biting her lip. “I haven't the strength,” she cries.

  “We shall all die if you do not! Do it!”

  Therrin shakes her head again, but she closes her eyes and drops the oar. Ty quickly spreads the sodden golden sail for her, though the wind fights to tear it away.

  I can feel her nature sense with mine – it is strong, and it takes hold of the storm around us, seizes it and twists it to her will. The rain slows and the wind quickens, pushing into the sail and sending us toward land. We skim over the stormy waters so quickly – too quickly – never before have I seen a wind this strong. I duck down my head and whistle again to Snake.

  No – it is too much, she cannot hold it. The wind stays with us, but as the power passes out of Therrin she swoons and falls forward in her seat.

  Ty pushes her up, but she will not wake. We leave her and wait for the wind to bring us to land. I try to stay awake, to see whither we're going; but it is late and I am tired, and now that the rain has slowed a little it isn't long before I fall asleep.