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Authors: Katie W. Stewart

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BOOK: Treespeaker
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Kel held up a hand. “Treespeaker, I cannot answer all these questions. One day it may become clear. Until then, you must simply carry on in faith. Come,” the morshu jerked his beak towards the cave, “let us get a good night’s sleep. Then you can be on your way.”

Carry on in faith,
Jakan thought. It wasn't so long since Kattan had given him that same advice.
How do I have faith when I feel like a beetle being tormented by a child, forever dropping stones and sticks in front of me to block my way?
He shrugged the thought away and followed Kel back to the cave. There was still hope. Today the beetle had fallen on his back, only to be set upright again. No matter what obstacles fell in front of him, he must go on. Tomorrow he would reach his destination. Then, maybe, he would have some answers at last.

Chapter 29
 

 

Jakan’s gratefulness for the cart and Nereya’s skill in driving it increased as the miles slipped away. Within hours he felt the effects of moving a distance from the forest. If he had been walking, there was little doubt his energy would have run out. He and Nereya had exchanged their stories over the first few hours, Jakan carefully avoiding the more painful details, but they had spoken little since.

Around mid morning, the cart came to the top of a hill and Jakan’s heart skipped as he saw a sight he never expected. In the distance lay a carpet of dark green; a forest. Something about it jarred on his mind and he frowned as he tried to decide what bothered him. At last it came to him. The green of the forest was uniform. There was no variation from olive to viridian, no difference in height as in Arrakesh or Dralgo. These trees were all of the same species and of the same age.

Nereya must have noticed his puzzled expression, for she halted the cart for a moment.

“What’s wrong, Jakan?”

Jakan gave a short laugh. “I know that this is going to sound a strange question, but what is that?” He glanced at Lasran, who gave him a shy smile of amusement.

“It’s the Garuga Plantation,” Nereya said, resting her elbows on her knees and relaxing the reins. “It’s a fairly recent idea, to plant out huge numbers of trees to provide wood. There are a few around the country, but it’s still too early to know if it’s viable.”

“I’ve never understood why the Carlikans wiped out the forests in the first place. Why didn’t they do things more selectively?”

“We were just in a hurry to expand, I suppose.We cleared it for farmland, we used it for building towns and cities, we burned it for fuel.” Nereya’s voice held a hint of impatience. “It’s easy to say, in hindsight, what we should have done, but it’s too late now.”

Jakan studied the plantation, avoiding her eye, thinking bitterly of Beldror’s plans. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it personally.”

“No offence taken.” Nereya flapped the reins and the horse walked on. “You look tired. Are you unwell?”

Jakan could feel Nereya watching his face, but still he did not turn to her. “I’m fine. How much further?”

 “That’s Lasran’s line.”

Jakan looked at her now and saw her face fall as she realised what she had just said. Lasran still remained silent. The boy smiled at his mother, a slight, slow smile of apology.

They travelled in silence for some time. The road wound through walled fields, stocked well with fat sheep. Lambs stuck their tails in the air, butting their mothers for a drink. Here and there, dark stone buildings dotted the landscape and every few miles a small village lined either side of the road.

Nereya did not stop at any of the villages, but drove through, raising a hand of greeting to anyone she passed. They had eaten a good breakfast, so there was no need to stop.

At last the road entered the plantation and Jakan looked around him in uneasy fascination. The uniformity unsettled him. The pine trees stood in perfect rows, like the wooden skittles Arrakeshi children loved to knock down with rag balls. The smell of pine tickled the back of his nose, giving Jakan the urge to sneeze. It seemed so sterile and strange that an overpowering sadness washed over him. He shut his eyes and covered his face with his hands.

Nereya stopped the cart. “Jakan? What’s the matter? I thought travelling through here might build your energy as Dralgo did.”

Jakan peered into the darkness of the plantation. He took a deep breath. “This place can’t give me energy. It has none.”

 “You get energy from Arrakesh Forest, you got energy from Dralgo. Why not here? It’s a forest, isn’t it?”

Jakan pushed his fingers through his hair and looked up into the branches. There was a haunting silence.

“Arrakesh is the one who gives me energy. He’s the spirit of the forest. For a forest to have energy, a spirit, it needs balance.” He spoke slowly to give himself time to put his thoughts into words. “One plant is in balance against another plant, one beast against another beast. But most importantly, there must be balance between life and death. Life comes out of death. If there’s no death, the spirit can’t grow.”

Jakan stopped. Nereya didn’t understand. He could see it.
This is the talk I had hoped to give to Dovan one day,
he thought with a heavy heart. He shrugged. “There’s no balance here, no death.”

“Of course there is.” Nereya gave a nervous smile. “They chop these trees regularly.”

 “And then they take them away. In a real forest, trees fall at their assigned time. They lie on the forest floor for years, providing shelter for birds and animals, growing fungi, rotting away into the soil to make it rich for the seeds that fall. There’s little else here but pine needles. Nothing else will grow in them.”

Nereya signalled the horse to move on once more. She was silent for a while, obviously thinking on what he had said. “How does that work for people?”

Jakan thought for a moment. “People leave behind memories. Other people’s spirits can grow from those memories, if they let them.”
Or they can shrivel if they don’t,
he added to himself, his heart like a heavy stone. "Our physical and spiritual bodies return straight to Arrakesh to strengthen the forest."

“Jalena.”

Jakan and Nereya jumped as the name came from Lasran’s lips. Jakan felt the blood leach from his face and a cold shiver slid down his back. Why had Lasran chosen Jalena’s name as his first word? It was as if the boy had spoken his own thought. Nereya put an arm about her son. She looked at Jakan with tears in her eyes. Then she pushed Lasran away from her a little and gazed into his face.

“What did you say, Lasran?”

Lasran eyed Jakan. “Jalena. She’s dead.”

Jakan shook and he looked away, watching the horse in front of him flicking its tail at the flies. Nereya’s hand came warm over his. “Jakan?”

He swallowed. “How does he know that? Does he read minds?”

 “You said the name when you awoke in Dralgo. He sometimes senses things, things that are strong or painful in people’s minds. I’m sorry. Was she…?”

“My wife.” Jakan still could not meet her gaze.

Lasran pointed a stiff finger at Jakan. “He’s going to do something bad.”

Jakan’s eyes met Lasran’s as he turned in surprise. He stared at the boy for a moment. Lasran gazed back without blinking.

“No, boy, you have that wrong at least.” Jakan looked from Lasran to Nereya, but she shook her head.

“He’s never been wrong before. Why are you going to Garuga?” He eyes narrowed, suspicion clear on her face.

“To find Varyd. I was sent to bring him. That’s all. I don’t know why Lasran said that. I have no plans to –” He stopped abruptly, remembering Hekja’s warning. Evil thoughts. Could that be what she had meant? Kel’s warning, too, came to mind. He had to stay calm. With arms folded across his chest, he stared ahead.

“Can we please just keep going?”

The horse snorted and the cart creaked as Nereya urged more speed.

***

The blue of the ocean brought Jakan out of his silent thoughts, making him sit up and stare. He gulped a mouthful of air and tasted the salty tang. The immensity of the treeless Carlikan landscape had shaken him enough, but this blueness, stretching out to fall off the horizon, almost froze him.

With difficulty, he tore his gaze from the sea and turned to study the city of Garuga. It nestled on the side of a steep hill, rising along a promontory from the ocean. At the point where land met the sea, a huge wall rose, protecting the limestone from erosion. At the base, four ships rolled with the slight swell, their ropes tied to a stone wharf. Above lay a profusion of buildings that seemed to be tumbling on top of each other down the hillside. In places, on the seaward side, rounded walls and vaulted roofs disappeared into the cliff, where rooms had been carved into the soft rock to make well-protected homes.

Jakan gasped. How would he ever find Varyd in this rabbit warren? As if reading his thoughts, Nereya spoke for the first time since the plantation.

“Do you have an address for Varyd?”

Jakan’s mind felt full of fur. He would need to find Varyd quickly and get back to the forest. “Address?”

“Do you know where he lives?”

Jakan shook his head and stared once more up the hill.

Nereya pointed. “That limestone building there, with the towers, that’s The Academy. If Varyd is a scholar as you say, they will probably know where to find him.” As she spoke she steered the cart onto a road that ran up the side of the hill. “I’ll take you there first.”

The road was steep and the horse, tired from the long journey, made slow work of it. The houses on either side seemed to watch them as they passed, dark windows like eyes gazing from the walls. People trudged along paths on either side; some richly dressed, others looking care-worn and weary. The smell of fish and salt wafted on the sea breeze from the wharf below. Above them, strange grey and white birds he had never seen before wheeled on the wind, their high-pitched squeals like the sound of children playing.

As they pulled up outside The Academy, Nereya handed the reins to Jakan to hold. “I’ll go and ask.” Without waiting for an answer, she jumped from the cart and hurried up the path to the entrance.

Jakan watched her knock at the embossed metal door. A tall, thin man answered it. He leaned towards Nereya as she spoke, then stood up straight and nodded, peering over her head at Jakan and Lasran sitting in the cart. His hands moved rapidly as he apparently gave instructions for getting to Varyd’s house. When he stopped, Nereya laid a hand on his arm, a gesture of thanks and waved goodbye.

Soon she climbed back up to her seat and took the reins from Jakan. “Varyd Kohl lives just further up the hill, near the schoolhouse.” Nereya jerked her head as she spoke. “It won’t take long.” She gave the reins a hard shake and with a petulant snort, the horse moved off.

Jakan felt his shoulders tense as they climbed the hill. This was something he would never have believed possible when Beldror held him in his grip. He should have been dead long ago, yet here he was, many miles from home, about to meet Varyd in his own territory.

He took a deep shaking breath. What could he say to Varyd? He did not really even know why he had been told to find him. He had simply followed Arrakesh’s will. What could Varyd do that the people of Arrakesh could not? Or Arrakesh himself? Jakan clasped his hands between his knees to stop them shaking and stared at the cobbled road ahead.

Nereya manoeuvred the cart with confidence up the narrow streets. Soon she gave a satisfied murmur. She pointed at a sign on a door a few feet away and stopped beside it.

 “That’s Varyd Kohl’s house.”

Jakan didn’t move. He stared at the arched doorway, set back into the plain limestone wall and swallowed deeply. He’d expected something more impressive than this simple home.   

Nereya leaned over and squeezed his arm and he turned to give her a diffident smile.

“You’re sure this is it?”

She nodded. “That’s what the sign says. Jakan, you’re sure you’re not here to do something…” She broke off, glancing at Lasran.

“I’m here to see Varyd, to get his help. That’s all, believe me. Varyd was a good friend to me.”

She searched his face for a moment and nodded. Suddenly she leaned forward and lifted the hem of her skirt a little. She picked at a piece of thread. It came loose easily and she pushed her fingers into the fold of the hem. Sitting up, she held her hand out, palm upward towards Jakan. “I want you to have this, in thanks for saving our lives.”

Jakan gazed at the metal medallion that lay in her hand. It was about the same size as Nereya’s small palm, engraved with an intricate design of a strange bear-like creature and hung on a chain of silver.

BOOK: Treespeaker
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