Shadow Tree (17 page)

Chapter 28: Imad's Clue

The flying ship departed the obelisk at dawn. All of the children gathered on the stone terrace at the top of the obelisk in order to wave goodbye – all of them except Kolo, who was in the ship, at the helm, standing alongside Nathalia. Nathalia had made it clear to him that, no matter what happened, he was never to leave her side. As for the ship, she told him that if and when they were done with it, which might not be for some time, then he could have it. “But I want you where I can see you,” she told him coldly. “And if you cross me, boy, I will hunt you down.” Kolo nodded and looked sufficiently scared. As the ship pulled away and began ascending upward, into the clouds, the aircraft rattled slightly.

Marta, who was exhausted, lay dozing on one of the couches. Meanwhile, Leif and Alfonso sat in one of the leather-uphostered chairs, nestling their feet into the plush bearskin rugs. “Well,” said Leif with a shrug, “If you have to fly to Dargora, you might as well do it in style.” Ever since their argument back in the obelisk, Leif had been trying very hard to be as cheerful as possible. It was clear that Leif felt badly about what he'd said – or at least how he'd said it – but he hadn't yet apologized. This really irked Alfonso and he had barely looked his father in the eyes since then.

Leif got up and began building a small fire in the ship's potbelly stove. Once it had lit, he put a kettle of water on top it in order to brew some tea.

“You want some tea?” asked Leif.

Alfonso nodded his head absent-mindedly. His thoughts were still on the prophecy from Imad's library. He didn't usually put any faith in this kind of stuff. In fact, he had little patience for people who wasted their time fussing over tarot cards, palm reading, and Chinese fortune cookies. But this was different. These were the words of the Foreseeing Pen. And his dad was right. So far, the Pen had predicted their unlikely rendezvous at the obelisk with pinpoint accuracy. This meant either he or Nathalia would have to destroy the Shadow Tree. Alfonso looked up at Nathalia. She was navigating the ship expertly, but even from the way that she was sitting in the pilot's chair – slumped against the back of it, almost like a limp doll – it was clear that she wasn't in good health.

“Here,” said Leif. “Have a look at this.” Leif tossed something into his son's lap. Alfonso saw that it was a blank canvas, with the frame made of tree limbs. “This is the thing that Imad asked me to take from his library.” Alfonso studied it for several minutes, staring at it contemplatively. “What do you make of it?” asked Leif. “You've always been good with puzzles – better than me anyhow.”

“Not sure,” said Alfonso, who was grateful for the distraction. “What did Imad say about this thing?”

“Not much,” said Leif. “Just that I shouldn't worry about it because I wasn't in the proper frame of mind – or something like that.”

“Frame of mind,” repeated Alfonso.

“Yeah,” said Leif. “What do you make of the thing?”

“I think I ought to rip it apart,” said Alfonso thoughtfully. He then proceeded to tear it apart, pulling off each of the wooden pieces that made up the frame.

“What are you doing?” asked Leif uneasily.

“Not sure,” said Alfonso. He quickly broke the wooden frame down into four separate pieces, one from each side, and then he began to play with them – placing the various ends together – as if he were somehow trying to reconnect them. Leif was shaking his head, getting ready to reprimand his son, when he heard a very audible
click
. Alfonso had succeeded in connecting two of the pieces so that they formed a single, vertical shaft. Moments later there was a second click – and then a third. Alfonso soon connected all four pieces so that they formed a single column or shaft. At the top of the shaft, there was a small round hole, perhaps half-an-inch in diameter. The other end of the shaft was wider around the base and, when Alfonso placed this end on the floor, the entire shaft stood up on its own.

Alfonso picked the stick up again and studied the base of it. “Whoa, what's this?” he exclaimed. He began using his fingers to twist the base of it, as if he were trying to unscrew a lid. “It looks like there's a small cap here that twists off,” said Alfonso, his face strained with effort. “Yup... it's moving.”

“Careful,” cautioned Leif.

“There!” said Alfonso triumphantly, as he pulled off the small cap and held it triumphantly in the air. “It came off.” Alfonso studied the stick again. “Hey check this out.” He and Leif took a close look. Built into the base of the stick, beneath where the cap had once been, was a strange-looking compass of sorts. There were no markings for directions, just a hand which – for the time being – was pointing north. The hand looked as if it were made of small roots from a tree. It looked like this:

“Where do you suppose it's pointing?” asked Alfonso.

“Not sure,” said Leif.

Alfonso placed the stick down, so that its wide base was on the floor, allowing the stick to stand up, on its own, vertically.

“Looks like a walking stick,” said Leif.

“Or a tree trunk,” said Alfonso.

Leif took a second look. There was no doubt about it now. The stick looked just like the trunk of a tree. In the middle of the trunk there was a small knot in the wood and, just above this, was a gash that looked a bit like a claw mark.

“My goodness,” said Leif. “That gash – just above the knot – that must be where we're meant to...”

“Cut the thing down,” said Alfonso. “Strange, huh? I never would have thought to cut the tree in the middle of the trunk like that.”

For a brief moment, Alfonso and Leif smiled at each other.

“Me neither,” said Leif. “I better show this to Nathalia so she knows what to do when...”

“Dad,” said Alfonso.

“What?”

“Do you really think she's the one to do it?” asked Alfonso.

Leif sighed heavily and then pursed his lips, as if he were considering carefully how to answer this question. “I don't honestly know Alfonso,” he replied. “But she has to try.”

“Fine, but what if she fails?” said Alfonso. “Then what?”

“Then we'll figure something out,” said Leif.

“That's not an answer,” said Alfonso.

“What do you want me to say?” asked Leif, a flash of anger in his voice. “You want me to say, ‘Yes, by all means, go ahead – destroy the tree and kill yourself.' Is that want you want? Because I'm not going to say that.”

Alfonso took a deep breath and kept his calm. His father had been under so much strain these last few years. Alfonso had to go easy on him; and yet, in the same instant, Alfonso recalled his dream in which the roots from the Shadow Tree had destroyed World's End. And he remembered his father's words at the end of the dream:
I thought we'd be safe here... I should have known – it was all written out so clearly
.

“The tree must be destroyed,” said Alfonso. His voice was eerily calm. “You see that don't you?”

“Yes,” said his father, “I do.”

“Someone has to do it,” pressed Alfonso. “We can't just walk away from this.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Leif. “And we won't.”

Alfonso frowned.

“What?”

“I don't believe you,” said Alfonso.

Chapter 29: A Bad Omen

The airship flew steadily north and, as it did, the weather worsened. The wind grew in strength and the turbulence was so severe that Nathalia had to keep them hovering just one hundred feet or so off the ground – in case they had to make an emergency landing. The air also grew steadily colder but, fortunately, Marta found a stash of fur coats tucked away in a storage compartment at the back of the ship. There were seven or eight coats, all made of soft fur, and everyone was soon wearing them and happily so. The weather remained surprisingly good; visibility was excellent; and, true to his word, played the role of the navigator, helping Nathalia steer a course northward deep into the Yamalia Peninsula. Using a map, a compass, and a pair of binoculars from the ship, Kolo
routed them along a series of rivers, which is the same way he claimed to have
gone when he followed the slavers who captured his brothers.

The only real drama occurred when Alfonso took a brief nap. The cabin in the ship was quite cozy – with the couches, the rugs, and the fire crackling in the potbelly stove – and Alfonso couldn't help but doze off for a few minutes. He awoke to the sound of screaming. Alfonso opened his eyes and found himself lying on top of Kolo with a knife to the boy's throat. There was blood on the knife. Kolo's eyes were bulging in terror. Marta was screaming; Nathalia was shouting; and Leif was talking sternly to his son. “Drop the knife Alfonso!” ordered Leif. “Drop it right now, son.”

Alfonso dropped the knife and sprang to his feet. His hands were shaking violently. He stared at Kolo in horror. For a terrifying moment, he wondered whether he had cut the boy's throat. But he hadn't. It was just a superficial cut. Kolo, however, was nearly hysterical.

“He cut me!” screamed Kolo. “He cut me!”

“Everything is okay,” said Nathalia calmly. “It's just a nick. Alfonso was in some kind of sleeping trance. He is not trying to kill you.”

“I'll kill him if he comes near me again!” screamed Kolo. “I mean it – I'll kill him!”

“No you won't,” said Nathalia firmly. “Now come to the front of the ship and stand next to me. I'll make sure nothing bad happens to you. I promise. Come on now.” Kolo rubbed his neck, assuring himself that it was just a scrape, and then scurried to the front of the ship and stood so close to Nathalia that he appeared to be standing on her toes.

Alfonso was still shaking.

“Are you all right?” asked Leif.

Alfonso nodded.

“What the devil was that about?” asked Leif.

“I have no idea,” said Alfonso hoarsely. “I was asleep when I did it.”

“I know why,” said Marta.

Both Leif and Alfonso looked at her.

“Great Sleepers always do things in their sleep for a reason,” she said.

“But I was trying to kill him,” said Alfonso, his face still ashen.

“And you would have,” said Marta, “If we hadn't woken you up.”

“What are you saying?” asked Alfonso hotly. He was obviously badly shaken. “Are you saying that I should have killed him?”

“I'm saying you should have listened to me,” said Marta. “We never should have taken him along.”

“That's enough!” shouted Nathalia. “We made a decision and now we have to live with it. Now everyone is going to sit down and be quiet. Understand?”

Everyone nodded and returned to their seats. The rest of the journey, to everyone's relief, was uneventful. Kolo stayed close to Nathalia, though he was constantly looking over his shoulder to see where Alfonso was situated. Alfonso drank tea and resolved not to sleep under any circumstances. By sundown they could all see a place, far in the distance, where three rivers converged. Just beyond that, there appeared to be a field of boulders, but it was impossible to see farther with any clarity. Nathalia used the ship's binoculars and saw that the boulders were all tall, slender and identical in shape. This was promising. She brought the ship as close to the ground as she could, just above the treetops of a vast pine forest, in which every single tree was dead.

Alfonso was staring so intently at the ground below that he barely noticed that Marta was standing right beside him. “That's what I saw,” she whispered into his ear.

“What are you talking about?” he whispered back.

“When I had my vision earlier – you know, back in the field, by the obelisk – I had a vision like this,” said Marta. “It was summer, but everything was dead.”

“How far into the future are we talking?” asked Alfonso.

“A long time,” said Marta.

“How do you know?”

“Because of the mountains,” she replied. “They had changed. The peaks were worn down. They had eroded. That takes a very long time – at least I think it does – centuries, probably longer. You understand what I'm trying to say, right?”

“If the Shadow Tree grows, the damage... it'll be lasting.”

Marta nodded.

“Alfonso,” she whispered. “I overheard what you said to your dad.”

“You did?”

Marta nodded.

“It's not his fault,” said Alfonso. “He just doesn't want anything bad to happen to me, but I don't think he gets what's coming – not really.”

“But I do,” said Marta. “That's why I didn't go back to Jasber. Even though I want to see my family so badly, I've seen what's coming. And, if it comes to it, I'll help you do what you have to. I will.”

“You don't sound like any nine-year-old girl I've ever met,” whispered Alfonso.

“You're starting to get it, aren't you?” she replied. “I'm not nine any more than you are fifteen. None of that matters any more. We're nine, and fifteen, and thirty-six, and ninety-eight all at once. We're agelings. And there are only two of us, so we better stick together.”

Alfonso nodded. He reached into his pocket and took out the small piece of paper in which the two scenarios of Imad's prophecy were written. For some reason, Alfonso had kept the paper, instead of returning it to his father. He re-read Imad's word for the umpteenth time.

“Do you believe it?” asked Marta.

“I don't know,” replied Alfonso.

A few minutes later, the airship crossed over a small clearing in the woods, and Nathalia glanced down and saw a number
of shadowy figures dashing in and out of the woods. “There's something down there,” she muttered, almost to herself. No one spoke as Nathalia navigated them the last few miles. Kolo made gestures with his hands, but said nothing. By the time they neared the spot where the rivers actually converged, the sun was down and it was pitch black. The only lights were two flickers of red in the middle distance.

“That's a small Dragoonya fort,” whispered Kolo.

“You didn't mention that,” growled Nathalia.

Kolo said nothing.

Nathalia eased the ship downward and landed in a ravine near the fort.

“This is the wrong place!” said Kolo. “I'll take you to the right place.”

“I think we've had enough of your advice for one day,” Nathalia replied.

“We should probably keep going and cross the forest through the air,” said Alfonso. “Don't you think?”

“We'll never make it,” replied Nathalia, “The wind is way too strong. Besides, we're almost out of fuel.”

“What does the ship run on?” asked Alfonso.

“Kerosene,'” said Nathalia.

“Do you think they might have any kerosene in the fort?” asked Alfonso.

“Could be,” said Leif. “But it seems awfully risky. We can't just go and knock on the door and ask for it.”

“Why don't we at least have a look,” said Nathalia. As she said this, she stood up and headed over to the door of the airship. “We can climb up to the top of the ravine and observe from afar – see if we can spot anything.”

“I'll do it,” said Leif.

“That's not necessary,” said Nathalia.

“I know,” said Leif. “But...”

“I'll be okay,” said Nathalia.

Leif started to object again – he didn't want anything happening to Nathalia – but by the time he opened his mouth, she was out the door. The others sat there, barely daring to breathe. Every sound from the outside seemed to magnify and echo through the thin walls of the airship. Every so often, they heard a distant howl. It started low and then ended in a terrifying high pitch. Alfonso had heard wolves back in World's End, Minnesota, but these noises were different. His skin crawled from the sound, and from the looks of the others, it was a common effect.

About a half hour later, Nathalia crept back into the airship, and closed the door behind her. She was smiling.

“The fort is poorly guarded,” she said. “There are only two guards on duty.”

“Let's just avoid the fort completely and go into the forest,” said Leif.

Nathalia shook her head. “They got a bunch of lamps on the outside of that fort and they look like kerosene lamps to me,” she said. “If we can get some of that kerosene we'll be golden. But it'll be tricky. We'd need an elegant way of doing it.” She looked around.

“I have an idea,” said Marta.