Out of Time
“Come seek the Palace with me, brave Wolfriders. You have the strength and now we have our guide! The Palace is waiting for us!”
Swift frowned, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. It was not a simple request to leave Blue Mountain journey north, led only by a foolish bug that sang nonsense. And she did not like the strange light that had come into Voll’s eyes ever since Rain had awakened him from Winnowill’s trance.
“I don’t know, Voll. I don’t know.” She turned and looked over her exhausted tribemates. Suntop and Venka were still shaken from their encounter with Winnowill. Strongbow was tensed as tightly as his bow, worry written across his face. Pike screwed his mouth into an expression of disbelief. Clearbrook and One-Eye clung to each other, as way their way when things seemed too complicated for them.
And Scouter brooded in the corner, thinking of Dewshine, even now answering Recognition’s call with Tyldak.
Treestump approached Swift cautiously. “You know we’ll follow you whenever you lead, lass. But we’re all tired. Dewshine will be with cub soon... poor little lass... and we... well, we can’t very well go home to a legend!”
“I know, Treestump. I... I need to think.”
Swift drifted through the halls of Blue Mountain, deep in thought, holding even Rayek at a distance. At length Skywise sought her out. “You know, it’s been a while since we watched the stars together.”
“You’re right.” Swift sighed wearily. “So much has happened... there’s been no time.”
“We’ll make time. Let’s go.”
“All right.” Swift turned to the staircase that led out above the aerie. “Wait... what about Rayek? Where... where is he? Where are the cubs?”
“He’s looking after them, don’t worry. Come on.” He gently guided Swift towards the stairway.
“All right.” Swift glanced back at the gray wolf. “Let Starjumper come too. I like his smell.”
They climbed up to the aerie and stood on the rocks overlooking the valley. The scent of ozone lingered in the air after the recent downpour neither Swift nor Skywise had seen.
“Everything’s changed,” Swift breathed.
“Not everything,” Skywise said gently. “Just you... and me. You’ve become a real chief. Even Strongbow admits it. He’s the kind that wants to be told what to do.”
“I never understood that before,” Swift admitted. She bent down to scratch Starjumper’s brow. “In council I’ve always tried to hear every voice, to make decisions that would please everyone. My father’s shadow, I suppose. More than anything, I don’t want to become a chief like he was. But you know something? Sometimes listening too much is as bad as being deaf. There’s a time to ask opinions and a time to give orders... and I think now I know the difference.”
She sat down next to Starjumper and Skywise joined her.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’ve been up there... flying! Flying, Tam! I’ve always dreamed of being able to. Now I’ve seen the world as the stars see it – from a great height. But I still couldn’t touch the stars.”
Swift gave the lodestone a tap. “You already have. What’s this, after all, an owl pellet?”
“It’s a key,” still Skywise looked up at the stars. “Like that one you showed me from your sword. Yours opens the way to Two-Edge’s golden treasure, whatever that is. Mine points the way to... what? A crazy dream?”
“Or to the lost dwelling of the High Ones?” Swift finished.
“Will we ever know?”
“There’s one sure way.”
“Swift?”
“I know the others... they want to slow down... to found a new holt... to recapture the Way as it was before the humans destroyed Father Tree. The Wolfriders belong in the woods, not the desert. I know that now. And perhaps... I need to rethink the reasons for this quest. The Gliders have shown me that all elves are not of one heart and mind. And yet... if what Voll says is true... think of it, Skywise, the answer is within our grasp. But my tribe... I can’t just ignore them. They come first, I know that. After all we’ve gone through – Winnowill, Dewshine’s Recognition... how can I ask them to follow me into the wilds, into the white-cold... all for a dream.”
**Tam, we understood when you left us at Sorrow’s End. One year, you said. And we understood. And many of us wanted to come with you.** He smiled mischievously. **That year isn’t over yet.**
Swift smiled. “You’re only telling what I want to hear.”
“You’re right. And you’re the chief, and only you can decide what to do. And in the end... it’s up to you.”
She nodded. “I’ve decided.”
“The quest cannot end here,” she told the Wolfriders. “Not with the origin of our kin within our grasp. The descendants of the High Ones can never truly be reunited until the Palace belongs to elves again. But I can’t ask my tribe to risk everything for a vision, even one as glorious as the Palace. Death-sleep is on the wind. We have a chance to settle a new holt in the Forbidden Grove before the white-cold comes. I offer everyone here a choice – come with me and Rayek as we follow Lord Voll into the north, or stay here and found a holt. Just as we remain a tribe united even as Rainsong, Woodlock, and Grayling decided to stay behind in Sorrow’s End with the cubs, so we will remain a tribe united if you choose not to chase a fool’s vision.”
She looked to her uncle. “Treestump. I appoint you chief in my place to lead those who choose to stay behind... and to watch over my cubs. I promised you all in Sorrow’s End that my quest would be over in a year. I will keep that promise, and return to you by the flowering of the new-green. If you would find the Palace with me, then come. But if you are sick of quests, then follow Joyleaf’s brother to make a new home in the forest.”
Treestump scratched his beard. “We were separated once before, lass. I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now. This... isn’t right... splitting the tribe like this.”
“I cannot ask you all to come against your will. But neither can I deny the call of the Palace.” Swift glanced at Rayek and Skywise and drew strength from their presence. “If Voll is right, the answers we have sought since we began calling ourselves Wolfriders may soon be revealed.”
“Yes,” Rain said. “We can’t ask you to abandon your quest now.”
**But what will we find in the frozen north?** Strongbow demanded.
“I’ve already spoken with Lord Voll. The Gliders are even now gathering furs and supplies for the journey north – and the journey to found a new holt. You have two days to decide whether you will stay or follow me. Forgive me for rushing you, but I want to leave before the north wind blows too strong.”
It was clear many Wolfriders did not need two days to decide.
“We’ve come too far to stop now,” Eyes High said. Shale nodded mutely. The two moved to stand by their son. “And we’re not about to let our chief face the north alone.”
“The chance to find the Palace – a Holt of all Holts,” Redlance breathed. Then he hesitated. “But... I can’t leave... the Wolfriders need a treeshaper for a new Holt.”
“Hey, now,” Pike said. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to see what the bug’s been buzzing about.”
“Our tribe should not be divided,” Clearbrook murmured.
“Aye,” One-Eye nodded.
**I don’t like this,** Strongbow sent. **I think there’s nothing to be gained by chasing north. But my place is with my chief. Winnowill’s attack taught me that.**
“If you go north, we will all accompany you,” Moonshade said.
“That is the Way,” Rain nodded. “Some things change, but not everything.”
“It didn’t feel right, letting you leave Sorrow’s End,” Moonsbreath said. “Now that we’re together again... how can we let ourselves be separated again? How can we let you face the unknown alone?”
Swift smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “And if we unearth another Winnowill?”
**Then we will defeat her,** Strongbow sent firmly.
Swift looked down at her cubs, standing uncertainly in front of Treestump. “Suntop... Venka. You should be back in Sorrow’s End, where it’s safe. You’ve both been through so much.”
“We want to come with you, Mother,” Venka said.
“Will you leave us here?” Suntop asked. “Please don’t make us stay behind.”
“We want to help you and Father find the Palace,” Venka insisted.
Swift laughed then. “You all leave me with little choice. The Wolfriders will go north.”
Only Treestump showed any worry. It was strange to see her jovial uncle so pensive, and Swift caught his eyes. **Treestump?**
**I don’t like it, lass. Now’s the time we should we remembering how to be Wolfriders. And Dewshine with cub – but we can’t very well leave her behind here, can we?**
Swift glanced over at Scouter, standing apart from the others. **No. Her place is here... with her tribe, her lovemate. Don’t worry, Treestump. If I’m right, we will soon know what it means to be Wolfriders – more than ever before.**
“Aye,” Treestump murmured. But his brooding countenance betrayed his lingering doubts. It was easy to laugh when Voll spoke of returning home to nothing more than a legend barely remembered in the oldest of howls. It was another to confront that legend head on.
Voll was delighted to hear that the entire tribe would be following Swift north, and Aroree reported that she had never seen her lord so driven with purpose. “A time long gone is born anew!” she clapped her hands and cried. “Oh, Skywise, little friend. You’re folk have made us all feel alive again!”
The Gliders provided the Wolfriders with rich furs, and Moonshade and Moonsbreath worked together to hastily convert their tribemates’ leathers into winter wear. “I don’t know what strange beast wore this fur before you, chieftess,” Moonshade said as she hemmed the cuffs of Swift’s new white jacket, “but you wear it well now.”
“Very well, indeed,” Rayek murmured, appraising his lifemate longingly.
“Hah, and you, Rayek, you look right enough in ravvit fur,” One-Eye teased as he pulled his fur-lined boots on.
“It itches,” Rayek ran his finger under the heavy collar Moonshade had sewn to his new tunic. His old smoke-blue leathers had not survived the quest through forests and mountains, and now he was once again dressed in his customary red.
“It’ll keep the cold from gnawing at your bones, you’ll see,” One-Eye laughed. “Me, I like the snow. I’ve missed it these seven turns of the seasons.”
“I can’t wait to see snow,” Venka exclaimed as Skywise helped her lace up her furred booties. “White sand that’s colder than the winds outside the mountain – it sounds like a silly dream.”
“It’s no dream, cub,” One-Eye assured her. “And you’ll be right glad of your new leathers when you take your first dive into it.”
“Are you sorry we won’t be returning soon to Sorrow’s End, my child of the rocks?” Swift asked Rayek as they drifted away from the others.
“Your brother is teaching my folk to fend for themselves – they do not need me as they used to. Besides, my home is wherever I make it,” **whenever you go, my Tam,** he added silently.
Treestump grudgingly donned the heaviest vest Moonshade had finished, but waved away the proffered detachable sleeves. He preferred his arms bare, save when it could not be helped. “Roll ‘em up and set them away, Moonshade. I’ll wait until the snow coats the ground before I bother with them.”
Scouter was still hanging back in the corner of the room, and Treestump went over to talk to him. The lad’s conduct during the whole unfortunate event with Tyldak had been beyond any reproach – it only proved what everyone knew: that Dewshine and Scouter were destined to become lifemates. Recognition had been denied them, but they would raise the unborn child together and be a true family.
If only Rillfisher could have lived to see her grandchild...
“Scouter, lad?” Treestump said gently.
Scouter turned, and his face was pale. “Where is Dewshine? It’s been nearly two days since she left. Why hasn’t she returned? Is... is she having second thoughts? Is she thinking of... of maybe staying here... with him?”
“Don’t even think it, Scouter. Dewshine loves you. Nothing will change that.”
“But Treestump, didn’t you say that ‘lovemates join from pleasure, lifemates for love, but Recognitions changes everything?’”
“Did I?” Treestump scratched the back of his head nervously. It sounded like something he might say. In truth he couldn’t recall. “Well – well, I wouldn’t worry, lad. Recognition may change some things, but it won’t change her love for you.”
Scouter cast a glance back at his parents. **Treestump? Could we talk together... away from the others?**
“Aye, lad, of course.”
Scouter moved further away from the tribe. When they were out of earshot he sat down on one of the many ornamental stone structures. Treestump sat down next to him.
“The waiting is eating at me. Until I see Dewshine and hold her in my arms again... I’m always going to be worrying... that she’ll change her mind, and decide to stay here. Mother and Father can’t help me through this. They’ve only know Recognition with each other. They believe that you can’t help but become lifemates when it happens. But you, you’ve Recognized others besides Rillfisher. Eyes High’s mother... you two weren’t lifemates. Can you... can you tell me what it was like?”
Treestump scratched his chin thoughtfully. “That’s a hard one, cub. It’s been so long.” How long had it been, in fact? He struggled to remember. Eyes High was younger than Moonsbreath, that he knew. But a little older than Grayling and Pike... certainly Grayling. He couldn’t remember when Pike showed up.
“River and I... we... were never lovemates before. Really, we didn’t really think anything of each other. The tribe was bigger then. Aye. And you didn’t all know each other as well as we do now. And then it happened. Can’t...” he frowned. “Can’t remember how it happened, really. But there it was. She looked up, and I looked down, and eyes met eyes. And... and I didn’t love her. I was... well, to be honest I had another lovemate at the time. And she didn’t want to have a lifemate – she didn’t like to think she belonged to anyone. Hah – I remember Eyes High was like that when she Recognized Shale. But... let’s see... well... we went and did what we had to. And we tried to see if we wanted to... well, to try it as lovemates. But after it was all over, and the fire left our blood... well, there wasn’t really anything between us. So we went our own ways. And River raised Eyes High herself – she said she didn’t need me to help. And... well... there it is.”
There was more, of course. But it was all swirling in a dull sort of fog that he could not quite penetrate. “All... memories are like drops of rain. They’re impossible to catch – they just pool together. But that’s all I can really put into words, lad. Does it help you?”
Scouter nodded. “I think so. I hope so.”
Treestump clapped him on the shoulder. “My little grandchild-to-be couldn’t ask for a better father. And my daughter couldn’t ask for a better lifemate. You two will be lifemates soon enough. I promise you.”
Scouter smiled wanly. “High Ones grant it.”
Treestump turned and walked back to the others. His memory jogged by the recent conversation, he sought out Eyes High and found her standing with Shale. She was experimenting with draping an oversized fur shoulder-cape around her torso while Shale pinned his new cloak around his bare arms. “Hello, cub,” he gave Eyes High a quick hug.
She laughed lightly at his crushing embrace. “What brought that on, old bear?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about your mother.”
She gave him a quizzical look. “My mother? You have spoken about her in years?”
“Well, I just got to thinking about her.”
Eyes High smiled. “Oh, I miss her so much sometimes, Father. She left the tribe far too soon.”
Treestump blinked. “Aye... aye, cub.” He touched her shoulder. “Too many have left us too soon.”
He moved away, leaving his daughter with her lifemate. She surely thought he was even now thinking of Rillfisher’s untimely death. He hoped so.
In truth, he was troubled by something else.
He could not, for the life of him, remember how River had died.
The next morning the Wolfriders were ready to leave. Voll summoned them all to the aerie to see the giant hawks saddled and ready for flight. “The Chosen Eight will accompany us on our quest,” Voll had explained. “We will not allow anything to happen to you, brave Wolfriders.” Sure enough, the hawks were soaring on the updrafts, waiting to fly. But a greater sight awaited the Wolfriders. Voll himself sat astride the largest of the hawks, his long sleeves and cloak trailing behind him on the wind.
“He rides upon Tenspan,” Aroree exclaimed. “The oldest and wildest of the great birds.”
“Look!” Scouter pointed. “Dewshine!”
Tyldak and Dewshine were flying, some distance away, circling with the hawks. Scouter called out in sending, and he heard Dewshine’s bittersweet reply. **Scouter, lovemate... I’m coming.**
She sounded so sad as she locked him out of her head.
Her arms still locked around Tyldak’s shoulders as he flew on the wind, Dewshine turned towards her Recognized. She felt his long bronze-brown hair brush against her cheek. **You must let me go now, Tyldak,** she sent. **I belong with my own people.**
She expected to hear acceptance, and understanding tinged with sadness. But she was wrong.
**No. I cannot let you go, Lree,** he sent back. She twisted a little to meet his gaze, and she saw that tears were brimming in his owl-like eyes. His arms locked tighter around her waist. **I thought I could, but now... stay with me, Lree. I cannot lose you.**
**I am a Wolfrider. I can never be anything else.** But even as she sent it, she suddenly wished she could transform herself into a Glider and stay with him in the strange labyrinth of Blue Mountain forever. They could spend their days in quiet peace by the fountain in his chambers, listening to the song of the tame birds, or out in the open sky, with only the clouds to hem them in. And when their little baby was born, she could watch so proudly as Tyldak taught the fledging how to fly.
No. She belonged in the woods, astride her wolf.
But she belonged with him as well. He was a part of her now.
No. She could not stay. She shook her head.
**Then let me fly with you,**Tyldak begged. **There is nothing for me here in Blue Mountain. It is nothing but a hollow shell without you.**
Only now did she realize how much she had wanted to hear him ask to follow her. But she thought of Scouter and her heart ached. **We agreed... we would not become lifemates.**
**Once we agreed we would not give in to Recognition. Could we not be wrong twice?**
**But what of Scouter – my lovemate – sworn to be father to this child?**
**My child! Our child! I did not realize... how much I would come to want this fledgling. Let me fly with you – at least... as long as you will have me.**
Tears stung her eyes as she reluctantly nodded. No, in truth, she was not ready to lose him either.
Was she ready to lose Scouter? She didn’t know anymore.
The Wolfriders and four of the Chosen Eight departed for the northern wastes, Voll leading the way on Tenspan. Swift and Venka rode behind the Glider lord while Rayek and Suntop followed close by on Aroree’s Littletrill. Far below the Wolfriders rode their mounts, while the giant hawks flew in a defensive circle around the little dots streaking across the plains. When the sun set and the Gliders’ hawks disappeared against the black sky, the birds cried out to reassure the Wolfriders, while Skywise’s lodestone kept the tribe on course. By morning on the second day they reached on the slopes of a rocky hill. Blue Mountain was a blue chip of stone on the far horizon. The Wolfriders spread out their bedrolls and gratefully ate of the fresh meat the Gliders provided. Strongbow and Kureel continued to glare at each other – the wounds they had inflicted each other burned fresh still – but on the whole peace reigned at the little camp.
Voll sent them all a vision of the Palace before they lay down to sleep. **You must see and know what it is that I offer you!** he proclaimed, and the tribe rejoiced as they felt as well as saw the legend emerge from the mist and assume a form in their linked minds. A great crystalline mountain, with elaborate spires and pillars they could not identify slowly shape-changed into a great sprawling collection of trees – a Holt of Holts – the ultimate refuge for their kind. Tears glittered in the eyes of most when the vision faded from their combined sight.
And tears lingered in the eyes of Treestump, as he struggled to understand what he had experienced.
Slowly the Wolfriders bedded down for the day. Treestump noticed with a certain discomfort that Dewshine chose to make her bed near Tyldak and the other Gliders. Scouter, sensing the distance growing between them, obligingly slept next to his parents and his sister Moonsbreath.
“Pike,” Treestump sought out the howlkeeper. “You going to sleep?”
Pike shrugged. “I guess. My head’s still buzzing from that sending. I think it’ll take me a while.”
“Do you have any dreamberries on you?”
“Dreamberries? That’s a funny request, Treestump. You usually hate getting too muzzy-headed.”
“Do you or don’t you?” Treestump demanded, a little more gruffly than he had intended.
“Well... no. But I have a feeling we’re not too far north to find a few growing wild. Come on, let’s go sniff them out.”
The two disappeared into the rough taiga, Pike leading the way. “Wha’cha want them for, anyway?” he asked.
“Never mind. I just... want to give the old memory a kick in the rump.”
“Huh. Didn’t think you cared about mucking in memories. Seem to remember you use to twit Longbranch about the point of it all.”
“Oh, I never meant it,” Treestump rubbed the back of his neck, a little bashful now. “You know that, Pike.”
“Oh, sure I do. It’s just that usually you’re so lost in the Now.”
“Lost... aye,” Treestump murmured softly, and Pike did not seem to hear him.
They continued the hunt in silence for a time. Finally Pike found their quarry, a small patch of dreamberries. The plant was weedy and the berries were soft and overripe, but Pike decided they would do. He began to pluck the berries off gingerly and placed them in his little leather pouch, but Treestump grabbed a handful of berries and ate them in one gulp.
“Hey, slow down,” Pike cautioned. “These aren’t the best –”
Treestump broke off a few more berries and gulped them down. Then he settled down on ground. “Ah,” he rested his head against the now somewhat denuded bush. “There we are. I’ll just sit here, Pike... for... uhn...” he wrinkled his nose as the overly tart aroma itched at his sinuses. “For a moment...”
His thoughts were already blurring as the dreamberries took hold – faster than he had expected. He vaguely heard Pike warning him about possible side-effects as he drifted off into visions. He saw the Palace before him again, all green and lush, like Father Tree – only larger, somehow more alive. A silver stream ran through the meadow at the roots of the old tree, sparkling with unearthly light.
He felt himself being drawn towards the stream. He looked down at his reflection and saw himself as a young elf. His facefur was gone, revealing a strong square jawline and eyes that seemed a brighter shade of blue.
His reflection changed, became a vague swirl of colours, and then reformed into the face of River. She was looking out at a distant point, her blue eyes vaguely dreamy, her soft blond hair falling in curls about her face.
No – that was Eyes High as a young cub. Treestump blinked and the image changed again. There was River, his once-Recognized, staring back at him. Her hair was straighter, longer, more white than blond, bound in two loose braids. Her eyes were darker, brooding with inner secrets he had never had a chance to uncover.
She stared back at him, bidding him to join her. He felt himself falling into the stream, falling into River, feeling her soul wash over him as it had that night they Recognized.
Suddenly he lay on a grassy plain. He had fallen, and now he watched as the rest of the tribe rushed in to subdue their quarry. A giant eight-pronged stag, very rare in the woodlands of the Holt. It had knocked him right off his wolf, and now he was sprawled on the ground, his wolf lying whimpering on the grass beside him. The stag had kicked her; her ribs were broken.
Suddenly he remembered. He looked up just in time to see River leap off her wolf, reaching for the antler of the tossing beast. She caught the antler and hung on as the beast thrashed. Her free hand held her dagger, and she brought it up to slit the stag’s throat.
“River!” Treestump shouted.
The stag bucked again, throwing River up over its head. She fell to the ground hard and the entire hunting party heard the loud “CRACK” as her head struck an exposed rock.
Now Treestump was standing at the side of the stream again. He was watching River lie in the water, the gentle current washing away the blood from her head wound. Her long cloak billowed around her, keeping her afloat. Bearclaw and Trueflight held River against the current. Then they let her go and the water carried her away, away from the Holt, away from the tribe.
“Saiye...”
He held out his hand, but she was already out of reach.
He drove into the stream, trying to catch her, trying to hold her. His fingers brushed against her long white hair – unbound now and swimming like watersnakes. But she drifted away, and he sank down into the mud at the bottom of the creek.
“Shh... my dear Birdcall...”
His old cub-name, whispered by a long-forgotten voice, drew him out of the darkness. Now he lay on a soft bed of grass, and he was smiling up at his lifemate. She danced before him, clad only in shadows and snatches of light, and her long black hair.
What was her name?
She laughed and disappeared, only to reappear a moment later, beckoning from behind a large bush.
Old Ravens-Eye’s daughter... what was her name?
No... she had no name... no enduring name, for she changed titles with the seasons. One moment Blackfawn, another: Shadow, another: Darkglim. She was all those names and more – she tried them on and discarded them like an impatient cub. She was always running... flitting from one experience to another. He remembered – he had always laughed at that quality of hers, he who preferred to dig his roots in deep and stay rooted.
“Birdcall... you are impossible...”
She of no name, and every name. To him she was simply Reth.
How long had they hunted alongside each other? How many dances had they shared in moonlight? There had been a child... a son... a beautiful boy with hair like his mother’s and eyes like his father’s.
Where had he gone?
Where had they all gone? Why had everyone he had loved disappeared? Why couldn’t he recall their faces? They deserved better than that.
“Treestump...”
Rillfisher... his beloved Firrn...
“Treestump...” she laughed in that clumsy way, her tongue tripping as she slowly forgot to speak clearly. Years of silence following the long fever made it almost impossible for her to recall the nuances of spoken language, and she when she did speak she only formed the outline of words.
He loved that soft voice of hers. It was like rain, shushing and indistinct.
He loved when she sang...
Now it was Rillfisher who lay in the stream, it was her blood the water washed away. Different circumstances, different culprits, but the same wound and the same sharp death.
“No...” he whispered. “No...”
She floated out of his reach. Now they were not in a stream but in a lake, and the gentle water was carrying her away. He waded after her, he waded up to his chest. But some unseen force pulled her away, held her just out of reach.
“Firrn! Reth! Saiye!” he called out into the gray mist. No one answered him.
He looked down, and now he was bleeding, now it was his blood that stained the water.
He let out a howl and the water receded. Now he was weeping on the grass beside the stream. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned. But the elf that looked down at him had no face.
A blur of colour and features hovered where eyes and mouth should have been. No ears graced the side of the stranger’s head. Treestump cried out and pushed the elf away. He raced for another tribemate, clad in the brown leathers of Bearclaw. But as he whirled his old chief to face him, he found himself staring back at another faceless creature. He rubbed his eyes and blinked repeatedly but still the faces around him were blurred as if seen through water. “Dewshine!” Treestump called. “Eyes High!”
He saw them walk by – or at least blond elves in their clothes. The faces were unrecognizable.
He was back in the lake. Now the water was black.
Now the water was rising.
Treestump threw his head back and howled as the darkness rose up to engulf him.
He awoke with a start. Pike was leaning over him, worry written across his face.
His face. Treestump let out a sigh of relief.
“Hey, Treestump... are you all right? You’re shaking.”
“I’m not all right... not at all.”
“I told you not to eat too many at once. They’re going rotten – it’s too late in the season–”
“Owl pellets,” Treestump muttered. He rubbed the back of his head as he slowly sat up. “How long has it been?”
“Not long. A while... the sun’s just coming up now, see?”
“Mmph,” Treestump grumbled. Pike held out his hand. Five little ugly berries sat in his palm. “Oh, no!” Treestump snapped. “No more.”
“Just these. It’ll help ease the headache. It’s not enough to do anything, you know that.”
Treestump grudgingly popped the berries in his mouth.
“You should have taken it easy, Treestump. You’re not used to that many at once.”
“Aye, aye, lad. Enough. I’ve learned my lesson well.”
Pike sat down next to the elder, patiently waiting. At length Treestump sighed. “I suppose you want to know what set me on such a blasted foolish course.”
Pike nodded.
“I... I needed to remember some things... things that I’d forgotten. Lives and loves... but I woke more than I expected.”
Pike nodded. “You’re the oldest of us, even a little older than Rain.”
“Aye. And I’ve seen so much... lived through so much... ah, I don’t know how the Mother of Memory does it – you know, Savah – everything is clear and sharp as the Now to her. But for me... memories are like raindrops, I told Scouter. They... fall... they scatter, and then they blur together into a puddle and you can’t pull just one out by itself. It’s all one. It’s all... right there, in front of you, but impossible to hold.”
“Treestump?”
Treestump’s face was anguished. “I’ve Recognized three times, Pike. To three different mates. Now they’re all gone. My daughters... they’re still alive and bearing cubs of their own, bless them. But my son... did you know I had a son?”
Pike nodded guardedly. “Longbranch told me once. Long ago.”
“Aye. I was barely older than Dewshine when I sired him. He died...” Treestump closed his eyes tight and balled his fists. “He died – and I can’t even remember how! One moment he was there. The other, he was gone. He just... fades out of my memory like a dream lost on the wind. He deserves better than that! He deserves howls and song! But what good are those howls if I can’t even keep them in my head for more than a few seasons! I feel like I’m dying from the inside out, Pike. I never realized until now... how much I’ve lost.” He paused. “I’m out of time, Pike. I’m floating... somewhere outside the past, outside the future, outside even the Now. I’m... lost.”
“Hey, hey,” Pike patted his shoulder. “That’s just the bad berries talking. Come on, old growler, you’ve got a lot keeping you in the Now. You’ve got your two daughters. And Skywise your grandson. And you’ll have a new grandchild soon enough. And you’ve got all of us, and we’re your kin too.”
“Rillfisher... I can still feel her death so clearly. What happens when I have a hard time remembering how it happened? What happens when I have to struggle to remember her face? What will I do when I can’t remember what Joyleaf’s voice sounded like, or the way Bearclaw used to laugh. I... I never thought of these things before. None of us did, because we knew only the Now and the Way. And now... we’re going to find the Palace! The Palace that I never thought was more than a cursed dreamberry tale! And... and I feel like I’m stumbling through life only half-awake.”
“I know. We’re all muzzy-headed from the sending. Except maybe Swift and Skywise – did you see how they were grinning?”
“Aye...” Treestump slowly got to his feet. “Everything is changing... and I’m an old growler who’d like to be stuck rooted in the past... if only I could touch the past – hold onto it.”
“But you can’t, Treestump. And you can’t hold the future either. Just the here and Now. You can just... just let the rain fall... and keep what you remember alive in howls. Hey... don’t worry. I may not be an elder, but I know my dreamberries, huh?” He winked. “And you’ll feel a lot better once your head clears. It’s like a bad dream, that’s all. Come on, let’s get back to the others. A good sleep and you’ll be yourself again.”
Pike was right. By dusk the tribe continued the trek north, and Treestump felt a new strength in his arms as he rode Lionskin. By the end of the second full night of travel they had left the lush forests behind, and now rode through scraggly woods and empty fields. Frost covered the ground.
Dewshine kept her eyes on Tyldak as he circled overhead. Scouter quietly rode at the rear of the party.
“Scouter is waiting for you, pretty cub,” Treestump said to her when they made camp for the second night.”
“I know. But... I don’t know if he should...”
“He loves you, lass. He’ll be a good father to your cub. What happened to the love I saw between you two an eight-of-days ago?”
Dewshine turned away angrily. “It’s my choice! You can’t make me choose Scouter!”
He was hurt by her rejection, but he tried to hide it. “Of course it’s your choice, cub. Recognition has been answered... it’s up to you now. And no one can make you do anything you don’t want to. Not me. Not Scouter. Not Tyldak.”
Dewshine threw herself in his arms and wept. “Oh, Father, I don’t know! I don’t know anymore. I love Scouter so much. I never imagined being with anyone but him. But now... I close my eyes and all I see is Tyldak. All I hear is Tyldak. He’s everywhere – he’s lodged deep in my very bones.”
“And what does Tyldak think? What does he want? You said he was repulsed by you – by all of us – because of the wolves in us all.”
“He says it still troubles him. But he wants to try, he wants us to become a family. Oh, Father, he wants a family so badly. He’s never thought it was possible to have children anymore. He thought families were nothing but an old legend, as old as the Palace. But now... what am I going to do?”
“Well... Rayek was troubled enough by the wolf in Swift... and they worked things out well enough. Never seen a pair as close as those two... but then Swift never had a Scouter of her own to deal with. I can’t tell you what to do, Dewshine.” He touched his forehead to hers. “But I’ll understand... whatever you decide. If you’re happy, that’s all that matters, pretty cub.”
He wished he could offer her more than words. He felt that he was losing his grip on her, that now it was Dewshine who was being borne away on the river.
By the fourth day of travel snow coated the ground. By the sixth the snow-covered mountain loomed above them. This had all been green and full of life when he had been a child, Voll explained. Now winter had gripped the land firmly, and allowed only the briefest of summers.
They could feel something on the wind... like the static charge that precedes a thunderstorm.
“Homeplace soon!” Petalwing cried. “Highthings see!”
By the seventh day they were in the foothills of the great frozen mountains. The largest of the peaks was an imposing barrier, all snow-white and dazzling, even in the gray light of the dismal autumn afternoon. The Wolfriders could see now way around it. But the Gliders flew high above, intent on cresting the summit of the first peak.
“There, my young friends!” Voll cried to Swift and Venka. “Don’t you see? The power of I spoke of... the magical aura of the Palace. See how it welcomes us after our age-long absence.”
“I... I see nothing,” Swift admitted. “But I – I know something’s there.”
“It is there! It is! The Palace! Is this not worth the small discomfort of a seven-days journey? See how close we are? Soon we shall home! Home! And nothing – no one – can drive us away from it again! Now I shall be reunited with my lost friends, my parents, my brothers and sisters. We are coming! We are coming home!”
Swift heard a whistle in the air, as deadly as a diving bird of prey.
It was rising up from below!
Petalwing cried out. Tenspan screamed as something struck him hard in the breast. The impact tore through the bird and its riders, and Swift stared down in horror as the giant metal spear which had just impaled Tenspan and Voll together gave to a gentle stop with a soft “tink” against her golden collar.
“Mother!” Venka cried.
“Hang on!” Swift clutched daughter and wolf-cub close.
Tenspan dropped from the sky. The ground rushed up to meet them. The heavy snowdrifts cushioned the blow, and Swift rolled off the bird, still holding her precious cargo. Mother, daughter and wolf-friend tumbled down a little slope until they came to rest, shivering with cold and fear.
Already the other Wolfriders were swarming around the bodies of Tenspan and Voll. Only the giant hawk’s solid breastbone had kept the arrow from sinking deeper and impaling Swift and Venka too.
Littletrill circled overhead as Aroree cried for her fallen lord. The hawk landed, and Rayek and Suntop raced over to comfort Swift and Venka. “I’m all right...” Swift whispered hoarsely as Rayek caught her up in his arms. “Oh... High Ones... we were so lucky.”
The Gliders Kureel and Reevol slowly lifted Voll up off the spear, while Aroree and Hoykar hung back in grief. Skywise watched in sorrow as the light he had seen kindling in Aroree’s eyes faded away, and her expression became hollow once more.
“But how?” Tyldak cried. “How did this happen? Where did the long spear come from? Where – ahhh!” he cried out as a searing pain ripped through his wing. He turned in time to see an arrow flying past him, trailing blood. It had punched a hole in his left wing.
“Tyldak!” Dewshine raced to his side.
“Dewshine!” Scouter and Treestump called out in unison.
The Wolfriders turned towards the source of the arrow. And their blood froze in their veins as they saw the terrifying gray-green monsters stalking through the snow towards them.
“We must escape!” Kureel shouted. “We must escape or we shall be slain just like Lord Voll!”
**Swift!** Strongbow sent. **More trolls from the other side. And with more of those strange weapons! They can fire arrows faster and with greater force than my bow!**
**The Gliders!** Nightfall cried. **They’re leaving.**
Aroree and Hoykar bore Voll’s body away to Littletrill, who circled overhead. Arrows flew by them, narrowly missing their limbs. Kureel and Reevol seized Tyldak under his arms – for he could not fly with his wing so mangled – and carried him up out of range of the arrows.
Dewshine set Trollhammer on one of the trolls, and the wolf tore the strange crossbow out of his hands. Strongbow and Nightfall fired at every troll within range. The Gliders on their hawks circled overhead, then began to fly south.
“Hey!” Swift shouted. “Wait! Don’t fly away! We need your help!”
Kureel’s answer was cold as ice. **You? But for you, Voll would still live! Die with him! We are through with you.**
“Are you mad?” Tyldak demanded as he sat behind Kureel.
“Leave them, Tyldak. They deserve their fate.”
“Cowards!” Swift cried, brandishing New Moon high. “You shame our race!”
“Aroree!” Skywise shouted.
“Tyyyldaaaak!” Dewshine called plaintively.
“No,” Tyldak pushed Kureel aside and sprang from the saddle of the hawk.
“Tyldak, you fool!” Kureel cried as Tyldak beat his wings ineffectually and clumsily glided down to the snow. “Die with them, then!” Kureel shouted over the sounds of battle.
“Tyldak!” Dewshine raced across the snow to help him rise.
“We have to run!” Skywise shouted. “Underbelly!”
“We don’t have enough wolves,” Swift shook her head as the advancing trolls drove their backs up against the side of the mountain. “Not with Rayek and the cubs... certainly not with Tyldak!”
“Scouter!” One-Eye cried out as he saw a troll pluck his son up from the ground and wrap his fat hand around the boy’s neck. “My cub!”
“Trollhammer!” Dewshine commanded her wolf. “Save Scouter.” Still she lingered at Tyldak’s side.
**Rain!** Swift sent. **Get the wounded to the higher ground. Take the cubs! Hurry!**
“I want to stay and help you–” Venka cried as Rain snatched her and Suntop away from Swift and Rayek. One-Eye snatched Scouter up out of the snow and carried him up to Rain. Dewshine pushed Tyldak up the hill to join Rain, then sprang back into battle before he could stop her. On their snowy ledge, healer, wounded and cubs watched in horror as the Wolfriders fought tooth and nail to defend the high ground. Pike gutted one troll with a swing his spear. Treestump sliced through a troll’s wrist with his axe. Moonshade pulled arrows out of the dead to keep supplying her lifemate with weapons. A troll’s heavy bolt caught her in the arm and she fell. But Treestump held his ground, as did One-Eye and Clearbrook, while Rayek and Swift darted about the edge of the fray, wounding and killing with sharp stings of sword and spear.
“Help!” Venka cried out, and Swift and Rayek turned.
“We need help!” Rain shouted now. Two trolls was advancing on the ledge, one armed with a sword, another with a giant spear. Eyes High and Moonsbreath were already rushing to defend the healer, but several trolls stood in their way. Swift and Rayek raced across the snow, which Rayek outpacing his lifemate by a few moments. He floated up onto the ledge and swung his spear up to block the sword. He pushed the sword away, but in doing so snapped his spear-shaft. The other troll saw the elf struggle and changed targets. Before Rayek could recover the second troll slammed into him, and the spear thrust deep into his right side, pinning him to rock.
“Nooo!” Swift leapt atop the second troll and sunk New Moon square into his skull.
“Rayek,” she let the troll fall and rushed to his side. “Skywise?”
“I’m here!” Skywise took up a defensive position. “I’ll cover you.”
Rayek was shivered on the ground. Blood welled in his mouth and dribbled down his chin. “Shh, shh, oh High Ones...” she soothed. “Hold on, beloved. This will hurt.”
Gently she reached into the wound, her fingertips probing for the barbed spear. Gritting her teeth, she twisted the spearhead, widening the wound but snapping off the deadly barbs. Slowly she pulled the length of the spear out, releasing a gout of blood.
“Don’t waste time on me...” Rayek moaned as he tried to rise. “Keep fighting.”
“You’re getting a healing.”
“No... no time. We have to keep fighting...”**We have to protect the healer and the cubs!** Rayek tore out of Swift’s grasp and hefted the troll’s broken spear. Even unbarbed it was lethal. With one hand over his wound, he waded back into the fray, and Swift could do nothing but follow.
Treestump fought his way through the fray, striking out with his axe-blade. His blood sang. Nothing else existed now. Not the future, and fears for Dewshine and her baby. Not the past and the faceless souls of the dead. Only the here and now. And Treestump could scarcely remember when he felt so alive. Every fiber in his body was tensed, focussed only on the moment. He felt the wolf inside him snarling, and he gave himself up to his instincts, to the wild moment.
He looked and saw Rayek fall, then saw Swift right him. He turned his back to the lifemates struggling to rise and face the trolls once more. Moonshade was down, and Strongbow was standing over her, defending her with his dwindling supply of arrows. Nightfall had fallen, bleeding from a head wound, but Eyes High was covering her while Redlance helped her up. Undaunted, Nightfall staggered her to her feet, dagger drawn.
Dewshine... where was she? He snapped out of his battle trance long enough to spot his daughter in the snow, battling a large troll from wolfback. He was reassured – astride Trollhammer she was safe.
The trolls were advancing again, and Treestump waded back into the fray, axe raised high. He chopped another troll’s hand off at the wrist, then delivered a killing blow to the neck as the troll fell. He shut out the sounds around him, shut out any fears for his cubs or his tribemates. He sunk himself deep in the Now as the trolls clustered around him, and he drew strength from the wolf within. Everything seemed to grow dark and quiet beyond the foe right in front of him. Nothing else mattered but the moment in front of him.
Strange, in the midst of battle, he felt something almost akin to peace.
The last of the trolls about him fell. For a moment he was alone.
“One-Eye!” a voice called him back to the outside world.
“I can’t... Clearbrook – cursed sword... stuck fast in bone!”
Treestump looked across the bloodstained snow. Nightfall’s wolf Woodshaver lay dead on his side. Beyond him, One-Eye was struggling to pull his sword out of a dead troll’s back.
He didn’t see the other troll sneaking up on his blind side.
“One-Eye!” Treestump roared. “Behind you.”
The elf abandoned his sword and sprang out of the way an instant before the studded mace would have crushed his head. But unarmed he remained, and the troll swung his mace wildly, narrowly missing him again.
Clearbrook was fighting her own troll. She could not aid her lifemate.
Treestump was closest.
He sprinted across the snow. Once again the rest of the world seemed to fade away. All that mattered was crossing those few precious paces between him and the troll.
“One-Eye, down!” Treestump shouted.
He threw himself into the troll’s path, axe held high. With his free hand he pushed One-Eye out of way.
The old chief’s uncle was quick. But the troll was quicker. Mace came down as axe went up. Metal sunk into flesh as a crushing weight met elfin bone.
He felt no pain, only a faint ringing his ears.
He fell to the snow, but he no longer felt its chill.
He stared ahead, his vision unfocused. He saw One-Eye’s boots retreat out of sight. He saw blood staining the snow at his side.
Everything had gone so still... so quiet...
He did not see the stags come riding out of the growing blizzard. He did not see his hysterical daughter being born away by Eyes High.
He knew he was lying on his side, but it seemed now that he was staring up into the clouds. Snowflakes were gently falling now, achingly slowly.
“Treestump...”
He could see Rillfisher... smiling that wide, reckless grin of hers...
“Birdcall...”
He could see Reth, all mysterious allure and otherworldly beauty...
He tried to speak, but he could not.
“Shh... just let go. Just... swim...”
He could see River...
He felt his body sinking away, sinking deep into the snow, while the rest of him rose up into the silver stream. He felt himself pass through a ribbon of beautifully cool fresh water. And then he felt himself surrounded by such light... such... clarity, that it brought tears to his spirit’s eyes. The souls of his lost friends and kin wrapped themselves around him, carrying him ever higher, and he found he remembered them all. Past, present, and future overlapped, and he felt the soul of Dewshine’s baby, and the souls that baby would one day sire. He was nowhere and everywhere at once, yet every sensation was bright and sharp, unforgettable.
Dewshine would be all right, he knew. Her heart would ache at first, but she would emerge stronger than ever before.
The tribe would go on. They would survive the war that was coming. They would find the Palace as Voll had promised.
He was already there....
Elfquest copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. Elfquest, its logos, characters, situations, all related indicia, and their distinctive likenesses are trademarks of Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Some dialogue taken from Elfquest comics. All such dialogue copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Alternaverse characters and insanity copyright 2014 Jane Senese and Erin Roberts