CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (59 page)

Aavi sat on the other side of the chamber talking to one of the hamadryads. She giggled at something but D’Molay was too far away to hear what Aavi had found so funny. He was truly glad to see her smiling and happy. She had been through so much in the last few days that he feared she might have an emotional breakdown of some sort.

A voice came from behind him. “I hope you slept well.”

Quickly turning around, D’Molay was face to face with Ptelea. She had walked through the wall at his back. It was always disconcerting when a magical being or deity appeared in such a manner and he’d never quite gotten used to it. “Uh - yes, I did actually.
 
Thank you.”
 

Ptelea looked at D’Molay with beautiful eyes the color of honey.
 
“I brought you some more fruits to enjoy,” she said, slightly raising the basket of scrumptious grapes, pears and apples that she was carrying.

“They are hard to resist. If I haven’t said this yet, the fruits you grow here are the most wonderful I have ever tasted, truly.” D’Molay took a sprig of grapes and plucked one. As it popped between his teeth, he could taste the sweetness and freshness of the juices inside.

She smiled with more than a touch of pride in her eyes. “We are one with the plants and trees nearby, so we know their needs and they reward us in exchange.” She set the basket down near D’Molay and sat cross-legged on the green moss bed.
 
“Your weapons are still safe by my tree. I just checked them.”

He sat down across from her as he took another grape. “Good. We should continue our journey. I’d like to write down those directions to your sister dryads’ enclave before we leave.”

“As you wish.
 
There is no hurry. You may leave when you feel you are ready.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to get that seed of yours to your sister dryads?”

“Yes, but we do not rush around, as you humans do. Like our trees, we see things over a longer span of time. The seed will get there when it is meant to get there. We have your promise to take it to them, and I know you are a man of honor, even if a somewhat violent one.” Ptelea gave D’Molay a slightly saddened look as she finished.
   

Now Ptelea reminded him of Aavi, for she had shown the same attitude just the other day in the carriage. D’Molay could not help but be slightly irritated. Gentleness was a virtue, but it didn’t get anyone far in this world. “Believe me Ptelea, I don’t mean to be a man of violence, but unfortunately, out there beyond your trees, it can be a dangerous place to travel. Sometimes violence is a necessary evil.” Despite his annoyance, D’Molay tried to keep his words as diplomatic as he could, for fear of offending her.

“Perhaps. We know the ways of men and gods both have conflict at their heart. But violence often invites only more violence. The plants and trees show us another way. One does not have to be a dryad to learn how to live a harmonious life.”
 
She reached out and touched his arm, looking into his eyes, as if she were studying a map. “You are not yet ripe for that knowledge. Though I sense such a day is coming for you soon. Take care, D’Molay, for you may suffer a great loss before harmony can regrow its roots into your heart.
 
Perhaps as great a loss as you had from your life on Earth.”
 

D’Molay felt the power of Ptelea’s gaze. She had looked into his heart and somehow seen his past and his future. Unable to contain himself, he asked, “What loss will I face?
 
Can you tell me more?”

“No. I can only see a shadow of what may happen to you, and even then, only faintly.
 
I cannot tell you any more than that.”
 
Ptelea moved some strands of her long dark green hair back behind her pointed ears as she answered.
 

He wondered if she couldn’t tell him more, or wouldn’t tell him more. “I had no idea that dryads could foresee the future.”

Ptelea smiled she stood up, leaving the basket of fruits with D’Molay. “Very few of us have such abilities. As the leader of this enclave I have certain insights which can be used to see how the upcoming season will be for our trees. With practice, I have learned how to use that insight for other purposes as well.” A distant look crossed her face, as if she had heard someone calling her. “I must go, but I’ll return shortly.”
 
Ptelea bowed slightly and walked back into the wall. D’Molay continued to eat grapes until the dryad Aavi had been speaking to got up and left. He motioned Aavi to come over.

“Hello,” she beamed, sitting down on the other side of the fruit basket. Aavi selected a pear and took a small bite out of it.

“I see you’re making friends with the dryads.
 
Which one were you talking to?”
 

“Karya, the spirit of the Walnut tree. She seems very nice. Did you notice they have pointed ears?” Aavi took a sloppy bite from the pear. The juice ran down the sides of her mouth and then quickly vanished.
 

“Yes, I did. What did you two talk about?”

“She wanted to know what plants and flowers we had seen on our journey,” she answered nonchalantly. Aavi looked down while pushing her hand into the fungus bed they were sitting on.
 
She watched the imprint of her hand slowly disappear when she lifted her hand back up.

“Plants and flowers?
 
I suppose they would be curious about those. What did you tell her?”
 

“That I didn’t know the names of any plants out there, but I told her about the weeds by the shore of the lake and some of the different looking trees we saw on the way here.
 
Then about the flowers, the grasses, and the harpies.
 
Oh - she said they found a broken vase dropped from the sky in their orchard a couple of years ago!
 
Maybe the harpies carry those vases all the time.”

D’Molay finished the last of the grapes and took a pear from the basket. “Interesting. But why, and for whom?”
 
Neither of them had an answer for that question.

“It seems so peaceful here,” Aavi said, changing the subject. She looked around the room, breathing in the cool earthy smell of living wood and spring water that surrounded them.

D’Molay, also lulled into inactivity, leaned back to rest against the wall. He knew what she meant.
 
There was something about the place that calmed one’s mind, clearing it of worries.
 

“Maybe we should stay here for a few days and rest some more, Aavi.
 
It might be good for both of us.”

She gave him a slightly confused look. “That would be nice, but shouldn’t we be going to see the creature you caught at the fort?”

“Well, a few days won’t -” He paused, realizing she was right. The moon was getting fuller each night.
 
If they didn’t get there soon, they might be too late. The Oracle had warned Aavi that she had to find her companion before it became full again. Yet some inner voice had urged him to stay and not worry about such things.
 

“Aavi, what does my glow look like today?”

She stared at him for a moment. “It seems pure in color and moves around you very slowly.
 
Like it is when you are asleep.”

“Asleep?”
 
He didn’t like the sound of that. He was fairly certain that he wasn’t asleep, but Aavi’s observation started him worrying. Had Karya told Aavi they too had found urns so she might want to stay and investigate? Was Ptelea’s unhurried manner a way to get them to stay, or was he just feeling peaceful under their protection? D’Molay couldn’t be sure one way or the other, but he didn’t like the idea that some magic might be at work on his psyche, despite the peaceful calm it engendered.

“You’re right, Aavi, we need to get going to the fort.
 
The sooner we get there, the better. Let’s get our things together and go up to the surface. It’s time to leave.”

D’Molay gathered their belongings. He packed extra fruit into their travel bag and refilled their water skin from the underground creek. Aavi, childlike, followed a glowing thread of lichen over to the space in the side of the underground chamber where the stairs had been.

“The stairs - they’re gone!” she called out in surprise.

“What?” D’Molay rushed over to Aavi and ran his hands over the root wall that had taken the place of the stairs. There was no sign that stairs had ever been there at all. Nothing but solid earth stood beyond the roots.

“See, they’re gone.” Aavi said.

D’Molay pounded his fists on the root wall. “Ptelea!
 
Ptelea we want to get out!
 
Let us out!”
 
He felt a wave of panic hit him; the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood up on end. He didn’t like feeling like an animal in a trap.

“But why would they keep us here?”

“I don’t know, Aavi, but we’ll dig our way out of here if we have to.”

Then the voice of Ptelea came from behind them. “That won’t be necessary, and we are not keeping you here. I made those stairs for you.
 
We do not need them. Once you were down here, I let the wall go back to its original form. Now, if you wish to leave . . .”

She walked past them and raised her hands to the wall of roots. A few seconds later the wood and earth twisted and formed back into the stairway they had used last night. Relief, annoyance, and suspicion competed to own D’Molay’s expression as he started up the stairs.
 

“Let’s go, Aavi.”

Aavi turned to Ptelea. “I’m sorry. We were just scared we couldn’t leave.”
 
Taking one last look at the magnificent chamber she followed D’Molay up the stairs, while Ptelea shook her head sadly and disappeared into the wall.

About half way up, D’Molay could see sunlight from the top of the staircase streaming in. His sense of panic started to fade, replaced once again by a feeling of well-being. “There’s definitely some kind of calming spell at work here,” he concluded, looking back over his shoulder at Aavi. Lit by the glow of the star moss, she had a ghostly, otherworldly appearance as she gazed back up at him nervously. A moment later they were back up on the surface within the circular stand of trees.

The morning sun shone in between the leaves and trunks of the trees as they stood in the glade. Several of the other hamadryads were nearby making ready to go forth to the groves. Ptelea emerged from her oak tree, approaching D’Molay and Aavi.

“I’m sorry if there was any misunderstanding. We do not often have visitors among us.
 
Our ways are different.”

D’Molay immediately confirmed that his weapons were where he’d left them.
 
He wanted to pick them up, but forced himself to sit down with his back to the large elm tree, within arm’s reach of his weapons. Leaning against the tree, he looked up at Ptelea. “Well, we’re here now. Perhaps I overreacted, and for that I am sorry.”

Aavi could see that D’Molay’s glow was swirling with purple and small red flashes. She thought it probably meant he was upset.
 
Ptelea’s steady greenish glow seemed calm and serene by comparison.

“I should have told you I would not leave the stairs in place.
 
It’s safer for us when our sanctum is sealed off from the surface.”

Aavi walked over and sat beside D’Molay. She was ready to accept Ptelea’s explanation fully, though she could tell by the colors in D’Molay’s glow that he was unsure.

“Can you offer us some sort of transport from here? We will of course deliver that seed for you,” he said, changing the subject and pushing aside his doubts about the dryads’ motives.

Ptelea gave him a knowing smile. “I sense your desire to leave quickly. Morea has agreed to let us use her Mulberry guardians for two days. You should be able to find other means to travel at one of the nearby villages in that time. Her guardians will return here, whether you have found other transport or not.”

“Mulberry guardians?” D’Molay asked.
 
He had never heard of a mulberry guardian before.