Crow Boy (9 page)

“Yes,” Maddy murmured, as I reached for it.

Then Aleena swallowed, and closed her hand over the ring. She slipped it onto her finger and held out her hand to me.

Maddy groaned in frustration and opened her mouth to say something, but I shook my head.
Not yet. She’s not quite ready.

I leaned down to Aleena’s hand and sniffed. I smelled Aleena – moss and water, and the ring – an odd, earthy smell with depths I couldn’t quite grasp. I felt that if I could, if I had enough magic, I could smell its life, where it had been, its entire history. But the smell was so faint. How could Gronvald follow that?

When I asked Aleena, she said, “It’s his history, too. It was his ring for a long time.”

I’m smelling Gronvald?
I thought with horror. I gagged, and straightened.

“Will he be here soon?” Maddy asked.

“It’ll take him a while. He travels through rock – through caves and tunnels and under mountains – but he’ll get here.”

Maddy shuddered, and I sighed.

We were in a dark rain forest, surrounded by massive trees. I gazed up and up, past trunks that reached forever, through branches searching for sunlight, finally spotting bits of grey-white sky through the mass of green.

As I peered upwards rain fell on my face. It dripped off the ends of evergreen branches, splashing down on enormous ferns and brilliant green moss coating rocks in thick blankets. More moss, in palest green, draped from dying branches in softly waving ghost-arms.

We followed a faint trail through a forest maze. I stared in wonder at enormous fallen trees, with saplings growing right out of their trunks. The ground was covered in a thick layer of forest debris, spongy underfoot and fragrant with cedar. I could smell green, and feel the forest growing.

Birds wove through the leaves, their songs filling the air. Magic flashed off their wings and fell like butterflies of light onto the plants below.

As I gazed around I wondered if it would be possible to paint this, to somehow capture the enormity and power of the trees, the greenness of the light, the radiance of it all when sunshine peered through the high branches.

We followed Aleena along the trail. As the forest darkened and the magic grew even deeper, Aleena came to a halt.

Ahead of us was the largest tree stump I’d ever seen. Instead of being red and crumbly, like the cedar stumps around us, it had hardened with age as if it was petrified. It was green with moss, and black in the deepest grooves.

Staring, I realized I was looking at a face carved deep into the wood, with large, dark eyes, high cheekbones and full lips. As I walked around it I saw a maze of fine cracks, with one deep crack running the full length of the face just beside the nose.

I stepped up to it and slowly ran my fingers over the wood. How old was this? It felt ancient, like old, deep magic. But wood rots – how could this not? And how was it made? Carved with an axe, perhaps? Shaped with knives? There were no tool marks, just wood grain and cracks and that face.

It was the most alive sculpture I’d ever seen. Not lifelike, a sculpture of a living thing, but alive, somehow, like the sculpture itself had life.

And then it opened its eyes.

I leapt back. Aleena started to laugh.

“What is it?” I asked Aleena in a hushed voice. I wasn’t sure I wanted it to hear us talking about it.

Aleena replied just as softly. “Every species has a spirit. The tree spirit for the cedars is very old and large. Aspen are light and airy – each reflects the character of their tree.”

She rested her hand on the base of the trunk. “Each sends out magic for the existence of their tree, even into the human world. The veil doesn’t stop that – it doesn’t need to. There is nothing humans can do to stop this. It exists. It simply exists. Every cedar, everywhere, in both worlds, is connected.”

“Even if the trees are cut down?” I asked.

“The trees cut down are gone, but the tree spirit remains. This is ancient magic, older and deeper than any we use.”

We squatted nearby to watch it. I wanted to sit closer, to be right beside that power, but at the same time I felt uneasy, as if it was watching me and not approving.

I studied the texture and the colours – moss green on the surface, black in the depths, with hints of red and gold as the light shifted. I reached out a hand, tracing the lines of its face in the air.

“Come closer,” it said.

I almost leapt out of my shoes.

“Come closer. Touch me.”

I shifted closer, reached out and gently traced a crack down its cheek.

It blinked slowly and I continued, entranced.

“Maddy,” I said softly. “Come see this.”

I took her hand and drew her closer. Aleena joined us, leaning in as we all slowly examined the face.

As I touched the wood, my hand reached through it, as if it was no longer solid. Maddy and Aleena’s hands penetrated through the face, too, as they softly stroked the wood.

Our eyes wide, we all breathed, “Oh!” Then we pulled our hands back. Except we couldn’t. Something was holding us, more than holding us, slowly drawing us in. We braced our feet, fighting back, but it did no good. Slowly, smoothly, we were being drawn into the tree spirit.

We screamed, bellowed and kicked, but we couldn’t stop it.

“Corvus,” I cried, hoping that at least the crows could report back to Keeper. I heard no answering caw. Where were those crows when we needed them? Then I remembered. Corvus was dead.

I yelled as my arm was pulled deeper and deeper into the wood. Suddenly I couldn’t cry out any more as my face and body were pulled into the trunk of the tree. Slowly it drew me in, through the wood deep into the centre of the tree. Our bodies were pulled into darkness, and then we were falling free, inside the trunk of the tree spirit.

The core of the tree was hollow, dark and oddly cozy. We untangled ourselves and each found room to sit, cushioned on soft, crumbly bark. A faint, richly red light made our skin glow darkly. By the dim light I could see tiny creatures in the bark, worms and ants and centipedes.

“Welcome,” said a voice as warm as the light. It was neither male nor female, just rich and warm and deep.

“Why did you bring us here?” I asked.

“You cause too much damage. I will hold you here.”

I gagged as my heart leapt up my throat. Hold us here? What did that mean? Keep us?

I looked all around. There were cracks in the wood, places where the wood was rotted and old. I was sure we could break out. I started to watch the centipedes; they would show us the weakest spots. As I studied the trunk, a lip of tree tissue began to grow around us, encircling us.

“What is this? What are you doing?” I said, fighting down panic.

“Growing a callus. That’s what trees do – produce a callus tissue to cover the wound.”

“We’re not a wound,” Maddy said. “We’re people.”

“You cause harm,” the tree spirit said. “I can stop you. Therefore I must stop you.” When it spoke we could feel the vibrations of its voice in the tree. “Now be quiet while I work.”

We leapt up, but roots reached out and grabbed us, holding us in place as the callus rose around us. It grew into a little wall surrounding us, slowly, constantly rising.

“How do we do harm?” I asked, desperate to delay the tree spirit.

“She does, with the ring.”

“I didn’t mean any harm,” Aleena said. “I just like to travel. That’s all.” I could hear the fear in her voice. We were all afraid.

“You are no different than Gronvald.”

“No! I am not like him. I am not like him!”

“And what of the dead child-crow crushed in your hand? The snails, disturbed in their only home? The crows beaten by hail?”

“How do you know about that?” she asked, horrified. “Besides, they were just birds and snails – they don’t count.”

Maddy shook her head. “I think they all count,” she said softly.

The tree spirit said, “I agree completely. They all count. Every living being counts.” It sighed, and the wood groaned too. “I will not allow you to travel with the nexus ring. You may keep it, but you will keep it here.”

“For how long?” I asked.

“For always.”

Aleena gasped, and started to shake her head. “No, I can’t stay here. I can’t.” I could hear panic building in her voice. “I need water – to swim, to play, to drink. I am a water woman – I cannot live here!”

She swallowed. “I’ll give you the ring. You can keep it.” She took the nexus ring off her finger and held it out in the palm of her hand.

“I cannot take it,” the tree spirit said.

“I’ll put it somewhere,” said Aleena. “Just tell me where you want it.”

The tree spirit laughed. I could feel the laughter shaking right to its roots. “I cannot keep it safe. I cannot protect it from any magic creature. I could not stop a centipede.”

“But you stopped us,” I said.

“Well, you are not a centipede. And I am not the keeper. I cannot keep the ring safe.”

“We’ll take it to Keeper,” I said. “That’s what we’re trying to do. Well, Maddy and me.” I let my voice fade out. It didn’t seem right to tell on Aleena, to get out by sacrificing her.

But how could we get out? The callus continued to grow, surrounding us in tough, strong wood. I knew we had to act before it rose too high. Roots held us tight, holding us down, binding our arms to our sides. If we struggled, they tightened, squeezing us until we couldn’t breathe.

I relaxed and the roots loosened their grip just a little. Barely moving, I eased a hand into my pocket and pulled out my firestone. It was easy to find the magic to lift out a thread of fire; the air was thick with magic. I pulled out a thread and fed a little magic into it. Golden light filled the inside of the tree.

“What are you doing?” asked the tree spirit, its voice suddenly rough.

“You will set us free,” I said, “or I will burn you.”

The tree spirit sighed. “Why do humans always need to destroy?” It sounded deeply sad. “I will burn, and so will you. Only the nexus ring will survive. Gronvald will smell it, past the odours of wood ash and burned flesh. He will find it, and he will cause even more damage than you have in your foolishness.”

I let the fire go out.

Aleena huddled in a little bundle, smaller than I thought she could possibly fold herself, unable to look for any way to escape. It was as if the tree magic was overwhelming her water magic.

Desperate to find a way out, I drew in magic to calm myself. I could feel magic resonating here, even in the insects. I watched the bugs at work in the bark around us. A centipede walked up Maddy’s leg, and she squealed.

“Watch it through your ring,” I said.

She made a face, but I said, “Just try it.”

Slowly she pulled her ring off her finger and looked at the centipede. She was immediately captivated, watching as it crossed her leg. It continued up and over the rim of callus growing around us.

“Josh, it’s amazing,” she said. “The long body glows as it moves. I can see every leg – I’m sure there must be more than a hundred. There’s so much magic in this one little bug.” She kept looking, examining every part of our prison, reaching out with a finger tip to touch whatever she was looking at. “I can see how the bugs all work together,” she said, “eating the rotting wood, having babies, dying and being eaten.”

Then she stopped. “Josh,” she said in a soft voice.

“Hmmm?”

“Josh, I can see sap moving.”

“But the tree’s dead. It’s just a trunk.”

“No, it’s not. Not really. And there’s sap moving.”

“Huh. That’s weird.”

“Josh, it moves like water, like a little stream of water.” She stared at me, her eyes unblinking.

“Maddy!”

She shook her head and held a finger to her lips. “Just like a stream of water,” she repeated softly.

My mind started to race. Sap – water – could we travel through sap and escape that way?

“Let me see,” I said, and held out a hand for Maddy’s ring. Moving slowly, I leaned into the roots over the lip of the callus, and peered through the ring into a crack in the trunk wall. Sap was slowly flowing up the tree. I touched it – it was sticky, too sticky.
It would be impossible
, I thought. We’d get stuck in it, or not be able to breathe. But when I relaxed into magic I could feel myself slipping into it.

When I nodded, Aleena stared. She shook her head. “I can’t,” she murmured.

“I can,” I replied. “I’ll take you. We have to get out now, before the callus grows higher.”

She shook her head again, fearful. But when Maddy and I took each other’s hands and looked at her, she sighed and reached for us.

As we shrank, the roots tightened around us, and the tree groaned and creaked, but it couldn’t hold us. I became water and moved into the sap, drawing Maddy and Aleena with me.