by Dave Skinner
“I can’t hear you,” Nails told him as he rubbed his ear.
Brayson indicated for Nails to move on.
“What about these men?” Nails asked. This time, he heard Brayson’s answer as if from a great distance.
“Leave them.”
***
The rest of the trip to Crosstown was uneventful. Garnock, Farly and Sorrick offered them a meal and a place to sleep in their village, but it would have meant a detour, and it was still early in the day when their paths separated. They declined with a promise to visit on their way back. Three seven-days later they arrived at Crosstown. It was located at the end of a valley between two snowcapped mountains. A large stream ran through the centre of the valley from a waterfall that cascaded down the mountainside and caused a permanent rainbow. As they approached, Nails saw that land had been cleared for farming in the valley, but the village proper was located in the trees on the mountainside.
“Are they houses?” Nails asked Brayson as they drew closer.
“Yes.”
Nails was amazed at what he was seeing. As they climbed into the foothills, he saw a small shack far ahead made of intertwined branches between which light fluttered. A few more steps and he could see there was more to the structure. The shack became the top floor of a larger building. Then another floor appeared, and another, and more. Suddenly, as they crested a ridge, the whole city came into view. He had to call it a city. He had been in towns before, and this was most definitely larger. A city on stilts, perched above a rift which sliced through the mountainside. When they were nearer, he realized that the structure was not as high as he had thought. The city sat on the interwoven branches of a massive tree that spanned the gorge. Closer still, and Nails realized the city was the tree, and the tree was the city. Branches wove together to form walkways, stairways and buildings. The buildings consisted of branches and what at first appeared to be shimmering light but turned out to be fabric. They came to a walkway that grew out of the ground and climbed into the air above the ravine. This walkway met with other walkways, combining as they progressed into a solid platform full of sculptured circles, squares, rectangles, globes and some shapes he couldn’t even name. Flowers grew along branches and became gardens. They entered a plaza where people sat, walked and played above the raging waters that roared through the gorge.
Ever since they crested the ridge and viewed the town, Nails had been buffeted by a howling rage of something he could not identify. At first, it had felt like hunger, but as they came closer to the rift in the earth, the howling became a steady hum. Walking into the hum was like pushing against a strong wind. Brayson didn’t seem to be affected, but Nails was having difficulty breathing and his heart was racing. The hum was now inside him, in his chest, in his bones. Then, deep within, the hum touched something that awoke, an isolated seed that reached hungrily for it. Nails stopped walking. He could see people everywhere. Children ran about. Laughter and singing rang from all areas. He tried to say something to Brayson but could not find the strength. His legs buckled, and he tried to stop himself falling by grabbing a rectangle of branches beside the walkway. He missed.
***
“Look the man missed the bench,” Brayson heard a child say. The four children all laughed and pointed behind Brayson. He looked back and saw Nails sprawled on the walkway. In moments, he was kneeling beside him.
“What happened? Is something wrong?” he asked as he cradled Nails’ head in his lap.
“Feel weak,” Nails whispered. “The sound from the river is filling me up.” His eyes rolled back in his head. He stopped talking.
“Is your companion ill?” a young girl asked. Other people were gathering around.
“He said he felt weak and then collapsed,” Brayson told her.
“I will get help,” the girl said before rushing off. A large crowd had gathered by the time he heard an authoritative voice demanding to pass. An opening appeared in the group surrounding him as a city guard walked through.
“What is happening here?” the guard asked.
“My friend collapsed,” Brayson told him.
“Has he had too much to drink?”
“No,” Brayson responded. “He said something about a sound filling him up.”
“How can a sound fill you up?” Brayson shrugged in response. He had no idea what had happened to Nails. “We need a healer,” the guard said.
“I agree,” Brayson replied, “but he is a big man. We need help to move him.” The guard knelt beside Nails and shook his shoulder.
“Wake up!” he said. Nails didn’t respond. The guard used his open hand to gently smack Nails’ cheek. When Nails’ eyes remained closed, the guard slapped his face.
A force drove the breath from Brayson and blew the guard back into the crowd, knocking many off their feet. The guard landed on his backside, shaking his head.
“I should have mentioned,” Brayson said. “My friend has a problem controlling his magic.” Nails stirred and opened his eyes.
“What happened?” he asked as he sat up.
“You passed out,” Brayson told him. “How do you feel?”
“Great!” Nails said. “And hungry.”
Chapter 13
After helping the guard to stand and apologizing three times, they were taken to the city, and into the presence of the officer in charge. Brayson handled all the talking. Nails was trying to figure out how he felt. He was different. If he concentrated, the hum was still there, but it wasn’t affecting him at all. His body felt like it usually did. He could feel none of the weakness he had earlier. The presence he had felt in the pit of his being was now a warm glow, and he was only mildly hungry.
Eventually, they were allowed to continue. The officer told them to stay at an inn named the Lone Branch, and assigned an escort to take them there. It was obviously not a suggestion. Nails thought the name was funny. In the midst of a twisted, interlocked mass of branches someone had named an inn, the Lone Branch. Everywhere he looked branches were woven together to form railings, walkways, benches and houses. Fabrics, hanging between limbs, gave rest to the eyes and privacy to those within. Open spaces presented a view of the gorge below and the raging river, held tightly by the stone walls of the ravine, before it surged out into the waterfall.
“Brayson, look, look!” Nails exclaimed. “There are people running along the branches below the city.” The canopy of branches that formed the floor of the city was not the only one that spread across the gorge. A fine network of branches could be seen below it whenever they passed one of the openings in the floor. Some were large, and some were small. Many had people on them, sitting in the crook or just lying on branches. More amazing though was the sight of the people running along them. While Nails watched, a young female runner sprang from a bending limb and swung onto another.
“It is a rite of passage for young warriors,” Brayson told him. “They practice from the time they are young. To become a warrior, you must run the web in your eighteenth year.”
“Have you done it?”
“I started practicing just before I left, but at that time we were only walking across.”
“Well you’re back. Maybe they’ll let you do it now.”
“Thank you, Nails. What a wonderful idea,” Brayson said, although Nails didn’t think he sounded excited or sincere.
The Lone Branch name made sense when they arrived at the inn. The building sat on a single large bough that cantilevered out from the walkway over an open space of significant size. A walkway led to the inn’s door. Everything else around the inn was open space.
“It would make a good jail,” Nails observed.
“I think that is the idea.”
“Not many visitors right now,” the innkeeper told them when they entered. “You have your pick of rooms.” They settled on a room for two on the second floor before descending to the common room for something to eat. They ordered the roast pig special and a jug of red wine,
and as they sat sipping their drinks, a question occurred to Nails.
“How do they cook?” he asked. “How do you have a fire when everything is made of wood?”
“They use thin stone slabs to line the fireplaces and ovens, plus the tree is alive. It is difficult, but not impossible, to burn.”
“Did the guard say who would come for us?” Nails asked a little later.
“No.”
The meal came. They had been eating travel food for a few seven-days, so Nails found it especially tasty, and Brayson agreed. The pig was nicely roasted with crispy-fat edges. The smell alone made his mouth water.
Slowly, the common room filled up with people. Brayson ordered them another jug of wine, and musicians started to play. The music was delicate and pleasing. Nails decided he liked Crosstown.
***
They had just finished breaking their fast the next morning when a young girl, proudly displaying the Royal Crosstown crest on her chest, sat at their table.
“Are you the people looking for help controlling magic?” she asked.
“Yes, we are. My name is Brayson, and this is my friend Nails. He is the one who needs help.”
“My name is Leown.” She turned to Nails and studied him for a few moments. He stared back at her. She was smaller than Brayson by a hand-span with brown eyes and short, brown hair that displayed her pointed ears proudly. Her clothes were made of a shiny fabric that was also brown.
“What is your problem?” she asked.
“When I get excited, I get a tingly feeling, and sometimes my hands start to glow and spark. Once, I destroyed the front of a boat just by pushing against it.”
“You destroyed it?”
“Yes. The whole front part was blown away,” Nails said. The girl considered that for a few moments before she placed her hands on the edges of the table.
“When you say, ‘the whole front part’, are you talking about this much?” She lifted her hands from the table to indicate that she was using them to measure the size.
“It was more the size of this room, the shorter part.” The room was twice as wide as Reese’s boat was long. Everything had happened so quickly that morning, and the shock of what he had done had overridden everything else. His memory of the incident was dim. He looked to Brayson with a “help me” look.
“I think that is an accurate estimate,” Brayson said.
“So, the boat was bigger than a rowboat or a small sailboat?” she asked.
“It was a single-masted, thirty-oar galley,” Brayson told her.
“I was told you collapsed yesterday in the entry plaza,” she said. “Did the tingling cause that?”
“No,” Nails said. “That was different. I was overcome by...I don’t know what to call it. It was like I was trying to walk upstream in a fast-flowing river. I finally broke through and was left with only the hum.”
“What hum?” she asked.
“The hum from the river below us.”
“You can hear the river?”
“No, I can feel it, but it is much...softer now.” The girl considered him with a puzzled look on her face. “Can you help me?” Nails finally asked.
“Not me,” she said with a smile. “My mother is the chosen one. I will take you to her.” She stood. “Shall we go?”
“What about our packs?” Brayson asked.
“Leave them here and leave your weapons also. There is no need for them.”
Outside and back on the walkway, she led them towards the mountains.
“You are Adel’s and Fairchild’s daughter, is that correct?” Brayson asked.
“Yes. Do you know my parents?”
“I met them long ago,” Brayson said. “I lived here for some time.”
“But you chose to live with big-people?”
“No. I was going back to live with my mother’s people, the far darrigs, but I was tricked into slavery.”
“Slavery! Do they do that to us?”
“Slavery is not common, but it is happening, and not just to Crosses. All of the slaves we rowed with were big-people. I have never seen a Cross anywhere outside of Crosstown.”
“Yes, most of us prefer it here. Why did you leave?”
“I was uncomfortable, and your father told me to leave.” The realization came to Nails that Brayson would have never returned to Crosstown if it wasn’t for his problem. He hoped this wasn’t going to cause difficulties.
“Why did my father ask you to leave?”
“So your mother would not get upset.”
“Did she have one of her sessions because of something you did?” Leown asked.
“I suppose so.”
“Please do not do it again. My mother has not had a bad seizure for a long time. We would all like to keep it that way.”
“I agree completely,” Brayson said. They walked on in silence until they came to a wide plaza full of flowers.
“Look at all the flowers,” Nails exclaimed. “Do they grow out of the tree?”
“Yes,” Leown said with a smile. “My mother has a way with plants. There she is.” She pointed to a spot in the centre of the plaza where a woman of moderate size sat on a large chair that was made of branches and covered in something green. As they approached, Nails realized the green was moss. Leown called to the woman and she looked up. Her hair was white, although there was no age showing in her face, and there was something in her eyes that almost stopped Nails. Then she smiled, and everything was good again.
“Mother,” Leown said, “this is the young man the guard mentioned. His name is Nails. He needs help to control his magic. Nails, this is my mother, Adel.”
“I am happy to make your acquaintance, Nails,” Adel said. “You remind me of someone I knew long ago. Come and sit here.” Nails sat on a bench beside her chair. “I must take your hand in mine. Is that all right?” Nails nodded. “Good.” He held his hand out palm up, and she placed hers against his. “I had trouble with my magic when it first started. It would flare up all on its own.”
“That happens to me also,” Nails said. Adel smiled at him.
“I am going to feel for your magic. It will not hurt. I can promise you that.”
“Be careful. Sometimes I get sparks jumping from my hands. They can hurt a little,” Nails advised her.
“Thank you for warning me. Now, if you will just sit quietly, we will see what is what.”
Adel closed her eyes, and Nails felt a warmth spread from his hand and then through his body. He ran his free hand across his eyes. A fog seemed to be flowing around him and then memories of his life appeared in the fog. They came so fast that he hardly had time to recognize Sorrick, Garnock and Farly. Brayson was there, and then Reese and Remi. Susin whizzed by and then Magga. The house in Waysley appeared. He was drawn into it. Suddenly, he was being carried towards Andoo Toran who sat beside a bed containing a young woman. She looked ill, but as he was placed on the woman’s chest, she smiled down at him and called him by name.
“We did it, Nailmoe my love. I have you back,” she whispered before the life slipped out of her. The vision disappeared. Nails opened his eyes, or perhaps they had been open all the time, he couldn’t remember closing them. Adel was smiling at him, although there were tears in her eyes.
“I knew your mother, Nails. She was my best friend.”
***
Brayson watched as Adel wiped the tears from her eyes and settled back in her chair. She looked sweet and innocent, but he knew better.
“Your mother’s name was Micka. We were apprentices of Andoo Toran.” Brayson saw Nails twitch at the mention of the wizard. “Micka was Andoo’s niece. I have not seen her since I came to Crosstown. Did Andoo not tell you about her?” Adel asked.
“Not that I recall, but I haven’t seen him since we moved from his house in Waysley.”
“I remember hearing about that. It was when he became Master of the Wizard’s Council and moved to Delta,” Adel said. “
That was six years after the Destroyer War. How old were you when you moved?”
“I was four,” Nails said.
Adel paused. “There is something here I do not understand. In your visions, Micka said that Nailmoe was your father, but he died in the war. How could she have his son two years after he died?”
“Perhaps someone else was my father,” Nails offered.
“That is unlikely. Micka loved Nailmoe with all her being. I thought you were familiar, now I realize it’s because you look so much like him. I believe you are Nailmoe’s son, but the timing is wrong. You will have to talk with Andoo Toran to find out the truth. I am sorry I cannot tell you more.”
“What about controlling the magic?” Nails asked. “That is what I need the most.”
“I do not detect magic in you,” Adel said. Brayson saw how that simple statement affected Nails. He knew how much his friend needed an answer.
“Is there magic that you cannot see?” he asked. Adel studied him for a moment.
“My magic comes from the Mother. It is she who detects nothing,” Adel had not taken her eyes from Brayson. “Who are you?”
“I am Nails’ friend. We travelled here together. I suppose if you cannot detect his magic, then you are unable to help him control it?” Brayson said.
“I agree. As far as I am concerned, your friend has no magic. Perhaps he is simply excitable.”
“Excitable does not blow the front end off a ship,” Brayson told her. “We thank you for your time, but we should be going.” He turned to Nails. “We can visit the earth elemental Garnock mentioned. Maybe she will be able to help you.”
“Garnock!” Adel exclaimed. She leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. “There are so many memories these names are bringing forth.”
“Are you all right, Mother?” Leown asked as she stepped forward. Brayson could see concern written on her face.
“I am just sad,” Adel said. “So many were lost to the Destroyer I should have—” Adel’s face went as white as her hair. She began to shake.
“No, no, no.” Leown moaned. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around Adel. “You did everything you could, Mother. You have nothing to be sorry about.”