Bronze Magic (Book 1) (34 page)

“Are you sure he’s all right?” asked Creaking Bough.
Waterstone grimaced, “I don’t know. I hope so. He is still in mental
contact with me.” The woodman took Tarkyn’s limp hand and placed its
palm against the trunk of the tree. He looked at Stormaway. “You know
about these things. Should we be doing anything else?”
The wizard shook his head. “This is well beyond the range of my
experience.” He frowned down at the still figure while he thought for a
moment. “Still, I suppose the same rules would still apply. Tarkyn, can
you hear me?”
Waterstone nodded.
“Relax your barriers. Open yourself up to allow the flow of energy in
from outside. Join your own with that of the oak. Don’t let your own life
force become too diffuse. The oak is much larger than you.” He paused.
“Are you connected with the oak?”
Waterstone nodded but his communication was almost unnecessary.
Beneath the woodfolk’s stunned gaze, their forest guardian was slowly
taking on an unmistakable, greenish tinge.
Stormaway frowned but continued as though unperturbed, “Now, do
you have enough strength to repair your broken rib?”
Waterstone nodded.
“Good. Then focus in on it and draw the two ends together - Now use
your tree growing abilities to grow new tissue and weld the bone back
together, just as you did for the tear in your lungs.” The wizard waited for
some time before asking, “Are you able to do that? Is it working?”
Waterstone’s face lit up. “He’s done it.”
Sighs of relief ran through the surrounding woodfolk.
Stormaway watched the prince for signs of recovering consciousness
but none came. He gestured to Waterstone to leave Tarkyn’s side and to
join him a short distance away. Sparrow stayed steadfastly beside Tarkyn,
keeping her hand firmly on his shoulder and stroking him gently from
time to time.
“What is happening now?” the wizard asked in a hushed voice.
“Why is he not waking? I am fearful that he may become inextricably
entwined with the oak’s life force. Do you get any sense that that may be
happening?”
“He is joined with it at the moment, but he is still himself,” answered
the woodman slowly.
“Are you concerned or do you feel he is just not yet ready to awaken?”
Waterstone put his hands on his hips as he considered the matter, “I
don’t feel at all qualified to answer that, but Tarkyn doesn’t seem to feel
intimidated by the oak. I don’t think he is fading into it, at least not at
the moment. My best guess is that he still needs the oak’s strength.” He
looked anxiously over at the prone figure lying so still under the tree.
“I’d better go back so I can keep an eye on him.” The woodman’s eyes
suddenly went out of focus. “Whoa. He’s panicking.”
“Dad!” yelled Sparrow in the same moment.
Waterstone ran the few steps back to Tarkyn’s side. He threw himself
down and put his hand on Tarkyn’s shoulder. The woodman sent an
image of himself and Sparrow seated on either side of him, gesturing
for the prince to return. A wave of relief rolled into Waterstone’s mind,
followed by a wave of reassurance. Waterstone received a clear image of
Tarkyn with his hand up asking them to be quiet. The woodman relayed
all of this to the surrounding woodfolk.
Stormaway stared down at the Tarkyn’s prostrate form. “Tell him we
must leave soon. He can have another half an hour, hour at the most. I
need time to check if he’s all right before I lay the trail to the road.”
Waterstone frowned. “How do I do an image for time?”
“Sun going down a certain distance over the trees,” suggested Autumn
Leaves.
Waterstone pictured the sun going down, as suggested. Much to
everyone’s relief, they saw the side of Tarkyn’s mouth twitch in a minute
smile. “He would really like everyone to go away and get on with
preparations. He needs to concentrate. That includes you, little one.”
The woodman smiled, “He wants me to stay but to be quiet!”
Sparrow gave Tarkyn’s shoulder a final pat and headed off with the
others to have some lunch. Another twenty minutes passed, during
which the woodman sat patiently and resisted the temptation to talk or
to reassure Tarkyn. Finally, Waterstone’s anxiety became too much for
him and he transmitted a look of enquiry.
An amused smile appeared on Tarkyn’s face, followed by an image
again asking Waterstone to be quiet. Then the prince opened his eyes.
The amber eyes in a greenish face were quite shocking to behold.
“Shh,” he whispered, “Just give me a minute to pull myself together
without having everyone crowding around me,”
Tarkyn let his eyes travel over Waterstone then up into the boughs of
the tree. He brought his gaze across and down through the branches then
down the trunk until he was looking at his hand with the palm still firmly
touching the oak. He took a long, clear breath and took his hand away.
In the centre of his palm was a deep green circle.
He smiled, “Interesting. Let me look at the palm of your hand.”
Waterstone put out his hand for inspection and saw that his palm had
a dark pink, perfect circle in the middle of it.
“What about my shoulder, I wonder?” mused the sorcerer. He went
to pull away his shirt to look at his shoulder and recoiled in disgust. “Oh
yuk! My shirt is covered in blood and mess. What are we going to do
about that? No one else has a big enough shirt to fit me. We’ll have to
wash it.”
Waterstone gave a shout of laughter. “Frankly, your shirt was the least
of our worries. We couldn’t have moved you to get you out of it, even if
we’d thought of it.”
Tarkyn grinned, “Fair enough. Just commenting, not complaining.”
He took another deep pain-free breath and sighed with relief, “Right.
Well, your guffawing will have given the game away. So I might as well
get up and get on with it. I have to take this shirt off though.”
So saying, the prince jumped nimbly to his feet and strode over to the
group gathered around the fire, removing his shirt as he went. He didn’t
even notice the biting wind against his bare chest. “So, any food around?
I’m starving. And is there any chance of someone washing this shirt? It’s
absolutely putrid.” He looked at his shoulder. “Oh my stars! I’m green
all over. That is a little unexpected. I hope it’s not a permanent state of
affairs.” He looked back at Waterstone. “Hah, you see? There is a round
mark here on my shoulder where you put your hand, matching the circle
on your palm. I thought there might be.”
The entire group stood transfixed as their pale green guardian of the
forest stood amongst them, prattling on as though nothing had been
amiss. He looked around at them all and beamed, “How are the plans
going? Is the hole filled in and ready for me to do some planting?” He
glanced at Autumn Leaves and grinned, “I’d say the sun is in just about
the right place in the sky, according to Waterstone’s marvellous image. So
I must be about on time.”
Tarkyn put his hands on his hips as the silence stretched out and
demanded, “What is the matter with you lot? Have you never seen
a green man before?” He then proceeded to chortle at his own joke.
Realising he had unnerved them; he took a deep breath and slowed
himself down. “Sorry. I’ll try to be sensible. But at the moment, just the
fact that I’m still alive is pretty exciting.” He let his gaze travel around
them all and carefully slowed down his speech, “And I have everyone of
you to thank for it. I could not have made it without you. Thank you
to you all for sharing your life force with me. It feels as thoughI have
been gone a long time and travelled far and now I am just glad to be
back among you again.”
At last the tension broke. The woodfolk and the wizard crowded in
around him smiling and asking questions and telling him what was
happening all at once. When the hubbub died down, Tarkyn found that
his shirt had been whisked away and he had a plateful of food in his
hand. “While I’m eating this, could someone get some green sticks or
small shrubs organised so that I can get on with disguising this hole as
soon as I’ve finished. I believe a stand of poplars once grew here,” he
said, unwittingly betraying his unconscious knowledge of the forest. “Are
there any around we could get cuttings from?”
Stormaway managed to make himself heard above the general chatter.
“Shouldn’t you be resting? You nearly died back there. You can’t recover
that quickly.”
Tarkyn raised his eyebrows. “I wasn’t quick. I kept you waiting, as I
recall.” He looked over at the oak tree. “That fine old oak has completely
replenished my strength and has aided me in repairing all my injuries,
not just the most recent ones. You can check if you like. No bruising
anywhere, I bet….and I can’t see, but how’s the eyebrow where you hit
me, Waterstone? I’ll bet it’s completely healed.”
Waterstone and Stormaway both nodded slowly, amazed.
“That’s why I took so long. I realised I could heal myself completely,
not just make running repairs.” The prince smiled gently at the wizard.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you. I was a long way down – down, is that the
right word? – It’s the best I can do to describe it. So, anyway, I was a long
way down and I needed to focus hard on each part of my body in turn to
inspect it and repair it as needed.”
“Why did you panic when Waterstone was over talking to me?”
Tarkyn shot Waterstone a glance and smiled crookedly. “Because he
was my hold on the outside world. I needed him linked to me to stop
me from going too far down and getting lost…Like a lifeline, I suppose.
Sparrow wasn’t solid enough on her own.” He looked around, “Where
is Sparrow?” Then he spotted her a little way off, hanging back from the
crowd and looking less sure of herself than usual. He smiled at her and
beckoned, “Come here, little one.”
Sparrow walked slowly towards him. When she reached him, he swung
her up onto his left hip and gave her a big smile, “Thank you for helping
me.”
Sparrow stuck out her bottom lip. “Why didn’t you let me stay?”
“Because, young Sparrow, it was too long for you to sit still and I needed
to concentrate.” He ruffled her hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to explain.
Even your dad only lasted twenty minutes after you left, you know.”
She smiled reluctantly, “Did he?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“Oh,” Sparrow gave this some careful thought. “So you weren’t cross
with me?”
“No, of course I wasn’t. Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He smiled at her. “Still friends?”
Sparrow nodded and smiled, although tears sprang to her eyes. “I was
very worried about you, you know. It was very scary.”
“I’m sorry, little one. Look! I have a smudgy round mark on my
shoulder where you put your hand. Let me see your hand.”
Sparrow turned her palm up for inspection.
“See?” said Tarkyn. “You’ve got a matching smudgy mark on your
palm. He looked at her, “So. What do you think of me being green?”
Sparrow screwed up her face. “Terrible. You look like you’ve gone
mouldy.”
The prince grinned. “Well, thanks very much! I knew it was bad, but
not that bad.” He swung her back down onto the ground. “We’ll just
have to hope it goes away then, won’t we? Go on. Off you go and have
some lunch.”
“I’ve had lunch.”
“Sparrow!” cut in her father. “Go and play! We have to do grown-up
things now.”
Sparrow threw a cheeky smile over her shoulder and looked much
happier, as she skipped off to join the other children.
Tarkyn watched her for a moment then turned back to Waterstone
and Stormaway. “Come on then. Let’s get this grove of poplars planted
then I need to speak to you, Stormaway.”
The woodman and the wizard exchanged glances and followed the
boisterous forest guardian to a pile of poplar cuttings that had been
prepared.
Tarkyn caught their glance and raised his eyebrows. “Waterstone, be
afraid! Be very afraid! Because now I am completely well, and in full
possession of my powers.” He grinned rather evilly. “As I recall, you
thought my full powers might be enough to frighten you off and in a
moment of weakness, I gave you permission to go. Well you’ve had it
now, because I retract my permission for you to leave. In fact, I absolutely
forbid it. However you may feel, you’re going to have to stay and cope
with me.” Tarkyn beamed at the woodman, totally confident that his
words would not be taken amiss.
Tarkyn knelt down, pushed the first poplar cutting into the ground
and focused his attention on it for a couple of quiet minutes. As soon as
green shoots began to sprout from it, he relaxed his focus but still held
the cutting until it had become more established. Within an hour, there
were twenty young poplars four to six feet in height, sprouting forth
green leaves and reaching for the sky.
Waterstone looked Tarkyn up and down. “It’s a bit hard to tell but I
think you’re a paler shade of green now.”
The guardian of the forest smiled, still full of energy. “That’s hopeful.
Sparrow may be able to stand the sight of me soon.”He turned to the
wizard, “And now for you, Stormaway. Thank you, my friend, for your
courage and your skill. You orchestrated my whole recovery and now I
would like to return some energy to you. You are looking very drained
and, after all, if you are to be believed, you are getting too old for all this
excitement.”
The wizard shook his head wearily. “No, Tarkyn. You must preserve
your strength. There is still a lot to do and a long way to go.”
Tarkyn considered him for a moment. Finally he said, “Stormaway,
your skill and care saved my life. I assure you I have energy to spare.
Please let me repay you just a little by giving you a bit of my life force.”
He gave a wry smile, “It might help to get rid of some of this green!” He
shrugged, “Besides which, now that I know about it, I can replenish my
strength from any large tree if I need to. The advantage of being a forest
guardian... Come on,” he urged, “let me do this for you.”
“Oh my word, young man. It is tiring just being near you at the
moment. Maybe you do need to get rid of some of that excess energy,” he
conceded grudgingly.