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Authors: T. A. Barron

The Great Tree of Avalon (35 page)

BOOK: The Great Tree of Avalon
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33

A Hornet’s Nest

Tamwyn and Elli moved briskly through the Woodroot forest, as they had all morning, following the Lady’s light flyer to the nearest portal. The luminous little creature glowed bright amidst the dark boughs and shaded roots, darting through the air along elk trails and fox runs. And yet its delicate light, barely a candle flame on wings, reminded both travelers of the fragile nature of life—and stars.

In silence, they padded through the groves. They could easily have talked, of course . . . if only about the potent smells of sweet cedar, rancid skunkweed, and fragrant dill. Or the cascades of pink bougainvillea, whose countless petals rippled like the fins of salmon swimming upstream.

But talking just didn’t occur to them. There was simply too much to think about from last night’s wondrous meeting with the Lady of the Lake—whose true identity they now knew, but whose mysterious ways they’d only begun to discover. As they tramped through thick groves of cedar and rowan, passing one honeysuckle abuzz with bees seeking the last drops of nectar, their heads were also buzzing.

Questions upon questions filled their thoughts. For Tamwyn, they mainly involved wondering whether he could, in fact, alter his own destiny. If nearly every creature alive knew that the child of the Dark Prophecy would cause the end of Avalon, what hope did he really have to do otherwise? Could he trust Elli to keep his dreaded identity secret? And how could he even imagine a different destiny, when he knew so little about himself and his strange, emerging powers? Sure, there was some hope in his ancestry, which included Krystallus, Hallia, Rhia—and even Merlin himself. But there was also flamelon blood in his veins... with all the warlike traits that made those people so feared throughout Avalon. And then there was his special knack for causing trouble.

For Elli, who trekked with Nuic sound asleep on her shoulder, the questions were different. Did she really deserve the same maryth as Rhia herself? What made her think she could find the true heir of Merlin, let alone help him prevail? Truth was, haughty old Llynia had been right: Elli was just an orphan, a former slave to gnomes, who had lucked into a role in all this. What sort of match could she ever be against a powerful sorcerer who had taken hundreds of slaves, slaughtered a forest, built an enormous dam, and halted a free-flowing river? And yet . . . something about the way the Lady had looked at her—really looked at her— made her at least hope she could help somehow.

As they entered a stand of dark green cedars, Nuic stirred. Elli reached up and squeezed his tiny hand. “Up late last night, were you?”

“Hmmmpff,” said the sprite with a yawn. “I’m too old to stay up till dawn jabbering away.”

“Well, now that you’re awake, what do you think happened to Llynia and the others? They weren’t anywhere near the lake when we left.”

“No doubt Llynia wasn’t happy about being left behind— especially with a hoolah for company.” His color turned an amused shade of peach. “They probably drove themselves crazier than a clan of catnip faeries.”

Elli almost ran into Tamwyn, who had stopped suddenly. He was in midstep, his bare foot just above a hornet’s nest resting among some cedar cones. With unusual agility, he hopped backward before his foot crushed the gray folds of the nest. But he slammed the back of his head into a sharp branch.

“Owww,” he moaned, rubbing his tender scalp. He glanced over at Elli and blushed almost as red as Nuic looked at the moment. “Go ahead! Laugh.”

Elli shook her head, though her eyes glinted playfully. “Wouldn’t think of it.”

“At least I didn’t step in the hornet’s nest.”

“You did so,” countered Nuic’s gruff voice. “Just what else would you call joining this ragtag group that doesn’t know the difference between the Rugged Path and a running bath?”

Tamwyn frowned slightly. “You’ve got a point there, old sprite.”

“That I do.” His purple eyes rolled upward, while his body’s colors shifted to shadowy gray. “And I’ll tell you something else. Two things, in fact.”

Elli pursed her lips. “Good news or bad?”

“Bad, of course. What kind of maryth would ever give you good news?” He shifted his weight on her shoulder, harrumphed, and pointed toward the light flyer, who was fluttering around a towering spruce beyond the cedars. “First, the portal is right over there.”

Tamwyn frowned. “That’s bad news?”

“You haven’t survived it yet,” grumbled Nuic. “Not to mention found your brother and Merlin’s staff—if they’re still in Fireroot.”

Anxiously, Elli twirled one of her curls around her finger. “And the second bit of news?”

“Hmmmpff. Do I need to tell you two stump-heads everything? Even show you the stars?”

At once, Elli and Tamwyn looked up. Through the tracery of cedar boughs, they could see the remains of the Wizard’s Staff. Although the constellation still showed three stars when they’d left this morning, one had been fading fast—and now was gone. Only two remained!

Tamwyn winced, feeling an almost physical pain down in his chest. Another star, another light in the sky that he’d watched his whole life, had disappeared. He swore under his breath. “How can we accomplish everything we’ve got to do before the last two are gone?”

“Welcome to the hornet’s nest,” muttered Nuic.

They walked briskly through the cedars, across a jumble of spice ferns, and up to the towering spruce. It stood over a pair of large boulders, which held between them a circle of shimmering green flames. Flames that rose from deep within the Great Tree.

Just as Tamwyn approached the portal, something splatted against the back of his neck. A ripe pear! He didn’t even need to turn around to know just who’d thrown it.

As juice dripped down his neck and between his shoulder blades, he grumbled. “Henni, you slimeball.”

“Eehee, eehee, hoohoohooha. So you knew it was me! Very funny!”

Tamwyn shook himself, then gave Elli a wink. “You know, I really
would
enjoy killing him. But then . . . life would be so dull.”

From Elli’s standpoint, though, this wasn’t any time for humor. She turned and asked Henni, “Where did Llynia and Fairlyn go?”

He lifted his hands, as big as cabbage leaves, into the air. “No idea. She just stomped off, right after the Lady of the Lake took you . . . um, wherever she took you. Oohoo, eehee, and was she ever mad! Hoohoohaha, really mad. Muttered something about all her plans being ruined, her life being wrecked, that sort of thing.”

Henni adjusted his red headband. For a moment, he looked uncommonly serious. “I’m going to miss Lady Greenbeard, and all her pouting and ranting. She was so much fun to be around.”

“Speak for yourself, hoolah.” Nuic’s colorful body now showed veins of dark green. “Let her spread joy somewhere else.” He sighed, then added, “And yet something tells me that we will see her again.”

“But where did she go?” pressed Elli, leaning her shoulder against the spruce’s trunk.

“Who cares?” asked Tamwyn. “Maybe she went back to join Belamir.”

Elli frowned. “Maybe. She failed at her quest to see the Lady. In her eyes, she’s now a disgrace to the Society.” She shook her head, bobbing her mass of brown curls. “But Belamir?”

“A perfect match,” growled the sprite on her shoulder.

Tamwyn stepped closer to her, even as he studied the circle of green flames crackling mysteriously between the boulders. “They had a talk together . . . after you left. Belamir—”

“Oh, sure,” she snapped angrily. “Bet you joined right in, too! Or did you just sit there and eat melons while they berated me?”

“They didn’t . . . well, they did some. But then they—”

“Are we ever going into that portal?” demanded Nuic. “Or are you two going to bicker until the last stars go out?”

Elli scowled at Tamwyn, then turned to the portal. “We’re going.”

She peered into the green flames that smelled ever so slightly of sweet resins. Of magic. And of élano. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “the last time I came through a portal, just a month ago, it was to leave Mudroot. Forever! I never want to go back there, ever again. All those horrible gnomes! Don’t even want to
think
about going back there.”

“Hmmmpff,” grumbled Nuic. “Then you shouldn’t . . .”

Neither Elli nor Tamwyn heard the rest of his sentence. For just at that instant, Henni did something highly dangerous, absolutely foolish—and very entertaining. After all, how often do you get the chance to shove people headlong into a flaming portal?

34

The Mudmakers

First, there was a loud crackle of flames. Then, all at once—rivers of green light, pulsing endlessly, flowing deeper and deeper . . . the sweet smell of resins . . . flashes of green, rays of rich brown . . . more resinous smell, stronger by the second . . . the sound of breathing, full and deep . . . life, death, and rebirth—all connected to the smell, the sound, the living Tree. At last, there was a new light growing . . . a loud crackle . . . and green flames again.

Tamwyn, Elli, Nuic, and Henni hurtled out of the portal. They landed on top of each other, so tangled and disoriented that it took them a moment just to figure out whose legs and arms were whose. And to realize that they lay in the middle of a vast brown field of mud.

Everywhere, as far as they could see, stretched the rolling brown plain, broken only by dozens of scattered mounds that looked like tree stumps covered in mud. The portal itself lay flat beside one such mound, its shimmering flames licking at the brown hump’s base. Overhead, thick clouds covered the sky so completely that not a single star could be seen.

“Mudroot!” cried Elli in despair, as she lifted her hand from the muck with a loud slurping sound. “It can’t be! We’re not . . . we can’t—”

“We are.” Nuic, now fiery orange, brushed a clump of mud off his shoulder. “Hmmmpff. I told you it was dangerous to think of Mudroot back there . . . especially with a hoolah around! We’re a long way from Fireroot.”

“Eehee, I know,” laughed Henni from the tangle of bodies. “But not far from the town of Hoolahome, so I could take you to meet all my cousins!”

Tamwyn found Henni’s big hand and yanked it toward him. “You dung-brained dolt! You’ve got as much sense as a gobsken’s hairy ass, you know. We could have all been killed!”

“Oohoo, oohoo, I know. Next time I’ll do better, I promise. Eeheeheehee, oohoo eehee.”

Tamwyn’s eyes blazed. He pulled Henni’s hand so hard that the hoolah flew into the air and landed with a splat in the mud. “I made a mistake not killing you after the Rugged Path. But this time, no—
yaaaaah!

A glob of mud, propelled by Henni’s free hand, flew straight into Tamwyn’s mouth. He coughed, spat it out, and leaped at the hoolah. Henni, laughing so hard he could barely stand, still managed to sidestep the lunging body. Tamwyn skidded and landed face-first in the wet mud.

“Eehee, eehee, hoohoohahahaha! You’re more fun than ever, clumsy man.”

“Wait, Tamwyn,” called Elli, unsticking herself enough to stand. The mud oozed over her feet and came halfway up to her calves. “Don’t waste any time on him. We’ve got to find the staff, remember? Before we lose any more stars.”

“Sure, sure. Right after I kill this moron!”

He hurled a clump of mud at Henni’s head. The missile splatted right in the middle of one of the hoolah’s circular eyebrows, like an arrow in the center of a target. While Henni tried to wipe his eye, Tamwyn pounced on him. They fell back into the morass, rolling and kicking. Globs of mud flew in all directions.

“Lovely,” snarled Nuic. “A mudfight.”

Suddenly something whizzed through the air, brushing the side of the nearest mound and landing in the mud by Elli’s feet. A spear! Though it was twisted and only as long as her leg, its hard ceramic shaft gleamed dully. She froze, unable to breathe. Gnomes!

Elli had seen such spears before—in the gnomes’ attack on her village that left both her parents dead. And in those six years of slavery that followed, when she toiled in their dingy pits where no starlight ever reached. Even after she’d finally escaped, she still heard the whizz of those spears in every gust of wind, felt the jab of their pointed tips whenever someone touched her ribs. Only after Nuic had started riding on her shoulder, grumping constantly, had she begun to forget. And now a gnome spear had struck the ground right beside her!

She screamed. So loud was her cry that Tamwyn and Henni instantly stopped wrestling in the mud. As soon as Tamwyn sat up, looking like a mud mound himself, another sound echoed over the plains. It was a frightful mix of shrieks and howls, the sound that sent most creatures in this realm fleeing for their lives: the war cry of gnomes.

Tamwyn and Henni, covered in mud, stumbled to their feet. Almost at once, the wave of battle broke over them. Spears shot past, one of them grazing Tamwyn’s muddy ear. Before Henni could pull out his slingshot, let alone load some pebbles from his pocket, a shrieking gnome tackled him from behind. While the gnome was no taller than Henni, he was far stronger, with muscular arms and jagged-toothed jaws just made for ripping flesh. The gnome battered Henni brutally in the face, then took a bite out of his shoulder. Henni wailed in pain as the gnome seized him with grimy, three-fingered hands—and started to bite his neck.

Just then Tamwyn kicked the gnome in the side—so hard that several bones splintered. The gnome howled and spun a full somersault before hitting the ground again. Immediately, Tamwyn grabbed his leg, swung him around, and let go right at the moment two more gnomes charged. His aim was perfect. The writhing body crashed full force into the attackers, knocking them flat.

“Let’s go!” cried Elli. “Back into the portal, while we can.”

“You and Nuic first! I’ll watch your backs.”

She glanced at him with a look of gratitude . . . and something more, something like real friendship. Then, scooping up the sprite, she sprinted toward the circle of green flames.

Tamwyn’s feet squelched in the mud as he darted over to Henni. The hoolah’s shoulder was bleeding profusely, but Tamwyn pulled him upright and shoved him toward Elli— just as several more gnomes descended.

BOOK: The Great Tree of Avalon
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