Ambassador to the Freaks

(10) Earth and Water

He was in a dark wood. Vines grabbed at his feet as he ran. No matter what direction he ran, a tree was there to block his progress. He ran, kept running, couldn’t stop. Behind him were the steps of his pursuer, who was nearly silent, yet every step seemed to ring out clear. A cliff face! He couldn’t run. Trapped. Again. He turned. A monster stepped through the trees. A dark mass of fur, vaguely outlined in the moonlight. Teeth were bared beneath yellow eyes. Then the claws appeared as it moved from four feet to two, lumbering overhead at twice the height of a man. It could see him, smell him…

Lewin jerked awake. Sweat was beading on his head. He had thrown off the thin blanket, and beneath his bare chest his heart was beating quickly. He had had this dream for the past three nights.

No hope of getting back to sleep for a while. Lewin turned to sit on the side of his bed to catch his breath. He could not sit up all the way since Shen’s bunk was above him. They, along with Bertram and Roddy, slept in this small room at the front of Lovely Woman, though Roddy was not there now. He was driving the animals. They had spent a little too much time stopping for performances and Auren insisted they put a few more miles behind them. These wagons were built very well; the boards shook under Lewin’s feet, but it was not jarring. Once he got used to the rattling of the items on the wall and the occasional bump, he could sleep pretty well while the wagon was in motion.

Not tonight, though. He pulled on a shirt and decided to step outside. One of the doors in that room led to the main area of the wagon, where Auren and Phreeda slept, and the other led out to the front where the animals would be hitched, though right now this wagon was attached to Good Drink while the animals pulled both. Lewin headed out, squeezing between the trunks that flanked the door. These entertainers were surprisingly tidy, though with so little living space you had to be. Still, it was strange to have doors surrounded by trunks of clothes, since where he had grown up the portals were guarded by statues.

The wagons were traveling at a leisurely pace, easy enough to keep up with on foot. The Ambassador stepped down from the running board and hustled to the front of the train to let Roddy know he was out. Poetry was being driven alongside the other wagons. The cow pulling it (whom they had yet to officially name, though most of the group called her Little Auren) did pretty well on her own just following the rest of the group, though Roddy still had to threaten with his whip occasionally.

“Hey.”

The driver looked down and nodded. “Nice night, isn’t it?” It was just small talk, but true nonetheless. The skies were fairly clear, letting down a spotlight of moon and stars. They were nearing the great forests now and the whole world seemed greener. The high road they were traveling gave a great view of the verdant landscape, with farms or pastures making brown patches against the horizon. They had left the river a few days ago and would not meet up with it again for a while. Roddy lowered his voice, though there was no one around to overhear except the oxen. “Getting nervous?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I wouldn’t worry about the dryads. From all I hear, they are slow to fight, even to defend their own lives. They’re plenty strange, but not threatening.”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t the dryads keeping him awake. Truthfully, Lewin had not been thinking much about his meeting with the dryads, even though that was the purpose of this trip. When his mind was not being stalked by felians, the cyclopes took a prominent place in his worries. “Much longer tonight?”

“Bredan and Derrian seem content. We’ll go till they tucker a bit.”

“Right.” Lewin had trouble talking to Roddy. He was nice enough; the two just hadn’t found a common conversational ground yet.

The Ambassador let the wagons pass him and hopped on the back of Poetry. The running board was a bit thin and a little troublesome for sitting, but he got to watch the road disappear while the other wagons rolled along beside him. It was calming, more so than looking forward.

Lewin let his mind wander as he recited: “I am human, child of metal and sky, but I approach as Ob-Enon. In me is earth and water, bound with stone and fire, housing spirit. I stand before you to harvest your oath, while bearing the oaths of those who…”

The back door of Poetry opened, hitting Lewin’s arm. He slid over on the board to let it open all the way. Monsta was lying on the floor on a padded blanket, surrounded by crates and bundles stacked frighteningly high. She smiled her pointy-toothed smile up at him. “I approach as nereid, child of water and spirit.”

Lewin smiled back. “Just practicing. We’ll be meeting the dryads soon.”

Monsta scooted over so that Lewin could sit in the door, where he was less likely to fall. He moved in, sitting close enough that his elbow brushed her ear frills. “You finally get to be ambassador to freaks.”

“Yeah. Though ‘finally’ is a strange word, since it’s happening five years early.”

“I think you’re ready. You were good ambassador to me.” She rested her head down in her arms and watched the road disappear behind them. “Miss Auren will be good teacher.”

Lewin wasn’t sure if she was right, but he stayed quiet and let her believe it. Most of what Auren had taught him so far was some survival techniques, the most basic of swordplay, and how to sling (though really, what she had taught him was how to not hit himself in the head with a sling). She still insisted that sky magic would not work for him, but Lewin was determined to learn it someday.

He and Monsta said nothing for a while. They just gazed at the night together, and for a moment it was like the old days in the gardens. “Monsta, are you scared of any of the people we’ll have to meet?”

“You afraid of cyclopes?”

“Yeah, but the felians, the ophidians, the wraiths… we share Irid with some scary neighbors.”

She grinned and looked up with her emerald eyes. “You afraid of nereids?”

“If anything, I’m afraid of traveling to their home. A land beneath the water, vast and open and deep enough to cut out the sunlight, filled with great castles of coral and stone.”

As he described it, Monsta smiled hungrily, as if he were describing a hearty meal. “Will we meet them soon?”

“Probably not. We might see some of your people on the way if we travel by rivers, but their kingdom is at the southern mouth of the Irid Strait.”

Monsta lowered her head again. “I’m… not afraid of felians.”

Lewin heard what she was not saying. “You’re afraid of your own people?”

“What if they don’t accept me? Because I’m different, and ugly?”

Lewin had sneaked her into the castle once to look at the mermaid statues. She had wanted to look upon one of her own people, aside from her own reflection. When she had seen then, she had very quickly asked to be taken away.

“Monsta, they’ll welcome you.”

“But if they don’t, I won’t have home.” She turned her head away from Lewin. “I won’t go back to Joten.”

“I’ll never make you go back there.”

She turned to him and smiled. In the past, she used to ask him to promise things like that. Whenever he said he would do something, she would demand that he promise. A few years ago she had stopped, though.

They resumed their silent vigil. The caravan passed by some trees. In this country, it was difficult to avoid them. From what they had heard from the locals, it was considered back luck to cut them down, especially the bigger ones. And certainly some of these were big. Ancient trees sometimes grew near the others, gnarled old things with roots that stretched and reached and created bumps in the road. They felt the wagon slow down so that Little Auren could step over one of these great roots, and then felt a jolt as the first set of wheels climbed over it. The thump sent a small shock up Lewin’s spine. He hopped down onto the road to avoid the inevitable bump from the back wheels.

Beside him was the tree causing the trouble. It towered over the road, casting shadows with the wide fan-like leaves that were still as green as in spring. The roots connected to its trunk and then climbed up the side like columns until fusing with its shape. These kinds of trees were valued in Joten for supporting beams in structures, as important parts of wooden machinery, and in addition they burned well. They were rare enough that he had overheard nobles arguing over the rights to them whenever news made it up that one was to be cut down.

A breath of wind shifted the leaves and made Lewin pull his arms in to brace against the cool summer night. The moving foliage cast strange shadows against the tree, making it seem like something was moving against its surface.

Then Lewin saw that it was no illusion. The surface of the tree was shifting and bending. Something was coming out. He stepped away from it, but in his surprise he did not think to call out or flee. The mass of wood began to separate from the tree itself, leaving a hollow indentation in the trunk. It then stood before him. Stood, because it had legs. It also had a body and head, all vaguely human-like, though thicker and thinner in strange places. Two eyes opened in the face, both solid amber orbs.

Lewin and the creature stared at each other, neither speaking. Monsta flopped around to open the front of her wagon so that she could tell Roddy to stop. Before she could manage this, the wagons left the Ambassador quite alone with this arboreal creature. It moved closer. Instead of toes or feet, its legs ended in thin roots that seemed to plant into the ground where it stepped. An arm raised and moved toward Lewin, but slowly, as if asking permission. The Ambassador stayed still. The creature extended its arm (or branch), which seemed to grow longer as it stretched out and took Lewin’s head in its spindly wooden fingers.

The feel of those fingers was solid. If it held more tightly, Lewin wouldn’t have been able to escape it. If it held even more tightly, well… that could be bad. But it held him softly as a break formed in the branches of the tree above. Starlight shined down and revealed his stony grey eyes.

“Have you come early?”

Lewin nodded, or at least tried to; his head was still held in those branch fingers. “You are a dryad?”

It did not nod or show any other sign of communicating. But then the voice came again, like shifting branches in the wind. “I am of the forest.”

As it held him, Lewin felt the fingers on his head seem to spread. Leaves tickled his neck as thin woody tendrils spread on his body. It was mildly pleasant. The wood of this creature’s body was smooth, unlike the bark of trees that must endure constant weather, and so become a crusty shield. It was also a cool touch, which was strange for a living thing. It had no warmth from blood, no pulse, and it was remarkably still. Lewin could have napped in its embrace.

From down the road a wooden slam told him that a door had been thrown open. He could not turn to look, but thought he heard Auren calling his name. The creature turned its amber eyes to see, but did not seem afraid. Lewin saw a reflection in those eyes of Auren, dressed only in her nightgown, charging toward them with her bare sword shining in the moonlight. His previous calm all turned to panic as she struck, hacking the creature’s arm.

The sword buried in the smooth wood and stuck. Auren tried to pull it out, but the creature’s other hand moved casually up and wrapped around the blade. It pulled the sword out and held it awkwardly, staring at it like a curiosity.

His trance was now over, and Lewin wanted to be free. “Release me, please.” The tree creature obliged, it’s fingers peeling from his head. “I’ll take that.” He held out his hand for the sword. It was handed to him sideways so that he had to reach up to take it by the hilt. “Sorry about that.” He motioned to the wound, though it had stopped oozing sap and was already starting to heal.

“All things fall.”

“You are a dryad, then?”

“Yes. And you are the Ob-Enon.”

“Yes.”

“You have arrived early. Apple spoke true: humans always hurry.”