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We were well into the forest before we saw our first indication of organized settlement. I should say, Alvin saw our first indication of organized settlement, as the evidence was in the form of smoke spotted high above the trees. It was not a wildfire, but rather smoke from a cooking fire. We never saw that one, but we did see huts built up in the trees, and tents built next to trees, and even a few shelters built entirely or in part under the ground itself. We kept an eye out for the residents. When we spotted one, we displayed our letter of introduction and asked who we should speak to about it, mentioning Ivan and Mauser's desire to join the colony. We were given directions along a network of trails through the woods, to a tree house, and told to find a woman named Gabrielle.
We got lost following the directions, but as the density of inhabitants increased in direct proportion to proximity to Gabrielle's residence, we easily discovered where we went wrong. Also, we had a lot of assistance. We collected a raffish entourage of women of many species: elves, humans, dwarves, gnomes, pixies, orcs and others. One of the women I mistook for a slender tree, until she moved closer to us for a better look. Astrea was startled, and even Jack and Leroy were nonplused. We all stared at her, and she stared at us, and eventually I thought to offer my hand. I was about to pull it back after a moment of non-response, but someone else hissed at me to wait a moment, and eventually the tree-woman extended a bark-covered, branch-like limb. She wasn't the oddest creature I'd ever shaken hands with, but she was in the running. Or standing. Or something. Whatever it was, it involved moving very, very slowly.
We eventually arrived at Gabrielle's residence, which was up in the boughs of a magnificent tree. Above us, we could see large hammocks and small platforms, all sheltered by branches higher up, and by tenting suspended from them. Access was difficult to detect, but a rope ladder dropped along the tree trunk as we stood discussing how one might go about knocking at a tree house. Members of our entourage started peering up into the tree, and we looked as well, in time to see Gabrielle descend the rope ladder.
She was a redhead, wearing green and brown. She had on short, loose trousers and a belted tunic. She wore no shoes, and her feet were calloused, tanned and, both flattened and gnarled. Whatever one might think of the aesthetics, they were functional. She was down that ladder in a breath.
She looked us over as we looked her over. Ivan and Mauser bowed slightly and offered her the letter of introduction from the gnomes in Divara Lyal. Gabrielle scanned the letter, looking up once to ask us if we had seen the centaur show while we were in Divara Lyal. We stammered out an affirmative. Gabrielle nodded, commenting that it was a must see, and continued reading the letter. Reaching the end, she folded it and returned it to the dwarves. She welcomed us all, saying we might stay for two nights, but no longer without special permission. Turning specifically to Ivan and Mauser, she directed them to a long, low building in a clearing beyond the tree she lived in, saying they could learn more about life in the colony there. If, after two days, they still wanted to join, they could begin their training.
Ivan and Mauser thanked Gabrielle profusely and walked towards the indicated building. We were all agog with curiosity. I think none of us had given much thought to what Ivan and Mauser intended in coming here. We asked where Alvin might alight and were told the clearing he had chosen was acceptable, and the closest they wanted him in dragon form. Gabrielle asked two of the pixies to be our guides. We had to listen closely to hear them, but they had no trouble flitting between us and Alvin, as needed. When Wanda went to tell Alvin his landing ground would be his home base while in the colony, Alvin immediately barraged her with questions. Wanda returned, annoyed and contemptuous. It took Leroy and Astrea several minutes of self-humiliation and obsequious apologies on behalf of Alvin to get Wanda to explain what Alvin had said to upset her so.
Alvin had tactlessly asked Wanda to confirm or deny or explain every rumor he'd heard about the women who lived without men. That is, he could see the colony included women of many species. Were they all warriors? Wanda had found that question stupid rather than insulting. Who had ever heard of a warrior pixie? Alvin next moved on to whether any members of the colony used bow and arrow, either for sport, hunting or the defense of the group. Wanda had said yes, and added that their current leader, Gabrielle, was a better than average shot herself. Alvin then asked the question foremost in his mind: did women in the colony who used the bow cut off one or both breasts to improve their skill?
We inferred that Alvin had asked that question. In relating her tale of woe, Wanda became too excited and irate to continue. I helped Wanda recover by agreeing it was a lunatic idea, spread by those who had it in for the colony, probably mostly spurned, male suitors of someone in the colony. When Wanda's temper had returned, she went on to explain that some women with large breasts, through maternity, weight or nature, did bind their breasts, but that was more to reduce the discomfort of running, walking, climbing and hiking, and had little or nothing to do with archery. Wanda also confided that the colony was home to a number of older women who might have died of growths in their breasts, but for their removal by the colony's doctors. Many such women joined the colony out of gratitude, or lack of options, having been spurned in some cases by friends and relatives who believed the growths might be contagious.
I thanked Wanda for the explanation, and commiserated with her on the sad state of health care for women. Wanda eventually accepted that Alvin, being male, and a youthful dragon, could be expected to be rude and inconsiderate, but had not, strictly speaking, intended ill for Wanda or the colony. Rejoined by Ivan and Mauser, we picnicked in the clearing with Alvin and Marion, enjoying the gathering dusk,.
Marion was enchanted by the colony, and the region of forested land its members inhabited and nurtured. They limited their numbers and enforced strict policies regarding the use of trees, animals, water and other resources of the land in which they lived. Marion indicated to Leroy and the rest of us who understood her style of sign language that many of the carnivores in the forest were werekind. The herbivorous werekind lived close to the residences of the non-werekind. The werekind as a group thus constituted, depending on one's perspective, an early warning of dangerous creatures, intelligent or otherwise, or a defense in depth against same. I asked Marion if she'd gotten into any trouble for unauthorized hunting or, horrors, accidentally killed a were. Marion sniffed, growled and signed that she was an adult and knew the difference. Leroy later said Marion had chased a were-hare onto a path, only to be confronted by Gabrielle, who demanded an explanation and, in turn, told Marion the rules of the forest.
After two days in the woods, Ivan and Mauser were still enchanted by the colony, and chose to remain. Marion was tempted, but Alvin successfully either bullied or coaxed or some combination thereof. Marion decided to continue south with us to Bolport.
When the pixies left us, after escorting us to the edge of the forest controlled by the colony, they warned us to keep a watch at all times until we reached the edge of the woods. The wolves south of the colony were often rabid; a bite was likely from any we might encounter, and might be fatal, whether treated promptly or not. As we traveled south, watching the woods to either side of the road, and the branches which overhung the path in many places, we compared our experiences in the colony with each other.
Jack and Leroy had each met a number of attractive, assertive women who took an immediate, sexual interest in them. They had been reluctant, in part because neither is quick to act, but also because they were uncertain about the local mores. They were reassured that no child would result, and diseases would not be transmitted. Curious and, as they were separate, unaware of what each was learning, they asked for details. The women were happy to demonstrate the prophylactics used, and the herbs used as contraceptives. Each had seen the prophylactics and heard of the contraceptives. Neither Jack nor Leroy would divulge the number, name or names of the women, or whether they had ultimately agreed to the service requested of them. I thought that was a shame, but neither felt a need to share with posterity.
Astrea, by contrast, was obliging. Gabrielle had been fascinated by a day walking vampire. Had Astrea been able to say with certainty that that unusual trait would be transmitted via her bite, Gabrielle would have begged to be bitten. As it was, she and Astrea sated themselves in an entirely different way. Astrea gave the impression that both Jack and Leroy had also spent time that night, or perhaps it was day, with Gabrielle, and they did indeed look chagrined to hear Astrea's tale. I, for one, am impressed by the amount of energy Gabrielle has. To judge by what Astrea said.
I asked Marion later on if she had had an encounter with Gabrielle. Marion pretended not to hear initially. When I persisted, she barked at me, and signed a question, "What do you think?", then ran ahead to be point for the next several miles. I considered asking Alvin, but thought better of it.
Astrea, noticing a lull in the conversation, hauled out a small pouch and tossed it to me, asking me to make a note of the contents in this journal. I saw some small round balls, some hollow with weights inside, some connected by twine, some textured. Some of the items were cylinders with tapering tips of varying lengths and widths, a few textured. There were round rings, too large even for a large thumb, and squatter cylinders of uneven width. I put them all back into the pouch and handed it back to her, asking her what they were. Astrea looked at me, as if I must not be serious, and refused to answer. I applied to Jack, who shrugged. I had to catch up to Leroy to ask him. He says they are sex toys, manufactured in the colony and sold, mostly in the Divarae, but in a few other towns as well. He added that the shops which sell them are another source of potential fathers for colony children, not usually directly, but as a way of spreading the word.
I asked what else the colony made for trade and Jack, overhearing my question, opened a large bag and showed me compartments, each holding a different pointed or edged weapon suitable for throwing, poking, swinging or placing. The colony made both the weapons and the ingenious casings. Jack said the colony made the widest variety of types, sizes and weights he'd ever seen produced in one place. Best of all, they made almost anything one might want in right or left handed form. I've never seen Jack look so perky before.
I asked Jack and Leroy if they were sorry they could not stay. They both said it did not matter; Gabrielle had told them they could visit as often as once a month, for two days. Neither stayed in one place much longer than that for any reason. To be prohibited from staying longer was no hardship. Astrea's comment, when I asked her if she would have liked to stay longer was simple, "I like men."
The day passed without event. We were still in the forest when night fell. After discussion and consulting a map, we decided to make camp before we were too sleepy to have an alert watch. After lighting a fire and assigning watches, we ate a light supper and slept.
During Astrea's watch, Marion woke up and started barking. Astrea hadn't seen anything. Marion was almost incoherent, but communicated "wolves" shortly before their arrival. Thus we were all wide awake and ready for trouble when it arrived in the form of six enraged wolves, all foaming at the mouths. Jack, Leroy, Marion and Astrea each got one and Alvin got two. As we were congratulating ourselves on our skill, and the ease of our escape, the other dozen arrived on the scene. It is unlikely we would have evaded that ugly crew without ourselves being knocked about, had assistance not arrived almost simultaneously. What at first looked like an enormous wolf in the midnight forest gloom was instead an undersized warg. She scattered the wolves, breaking the necks of two in the course of her first pounce. Some had enough vestiges of sanity to run, but the rest rapidly succumbed to our combined offense.
When the danger was eliminated, Alvin carefully burned the corpses, and we shifted our camp away from the blood, downwind of the smoke. Leroy and Marion found a common sign language understood by the warg. They took the next watch together while the rest of us tried to get some sleep.
The following morning, I learned that someone else had already thought to ask the warg, named Hildagard, why the local wolf population was so large and, for that matter, so organized. Rabid wolves did not often travel in large groups in my experience. Gard said they were not local or natural wolves, and not rabid, either. They drooled. They behaved in a reckless and insane manner, but they were not infected. Rather, they were the remnants of a village to the south which had been cursed several years ago. I asked why the curse had never been lifted by anyone, and communication on that point broke down irretrievably. Leroy, Marion and Gard were all trying very hard, and we were sure the question was understood. Gard had an answer, but utterly failed to get it across. They kept at it through breakfast, and while the rest of us broke camp. Leroy concluded that curse was not the right translation. Magic was involved, and no one we could think of would want to be compelled to live the life of a rabid wolf, but curse wasn't the right term.
Gard decided to join the party. Leroy and Gard had hit it off immediately, and a night spent fighting and talking had created a bond no one cared to interfere with. Gard, according to Leroy, wanted to warn us about the region of the forest around the now-deserted village, former home of the wolves when they were nominally human. The warning was not dire. Gard was not telling us to travel around or away from the area. What came through their arduous attempts at communication was a desire for us to remain alert, and believe what our eyes told us, however bizarre. I argued with that interpretation, as the wolves hadn't been wolves, or rabid. Astrea reminded me that they had in every respect fought and died as wolves, and their hazard to us was as great if not greater than rabid wolves.
As Astrea was remonstrating with me, she acquired a glow, as one might expect a holy woman or the avatar of a deity to glow. I heard her out, then indicated the glow to the rest of the party, and asked if they could see it also, or if this was another phenomenon visible only through my modified perception. It was visible to the others, also, and as they were inspecting the aura, I noticed that Jack and Leroy had grown small horns and serpentine tails. Astrea pointed that out. After our initial surprise, we traded jokes about devils and impishness. Alvin, meanwhile, had changed into human form. I had not previously seen him that way, and asked why he had chosen to transform. He looked very confused and stuttered when he explained that this change was both unintended and atypical. His hair was dark, and cowlicky this time, when it was usually blonde and curly. Also, he had never had difficulty speaking before. Marion had not changed nor, so far as I could tell, had I. The warg, meanwhile, had suddenly acquired human speech.
Gard said this part of the forest was enchanted, not just the village itself. The enchantment had the effect of making us perceive each other as embodying certain traits. We wasted several minutes hotly debating whether Jack and Leroy were devilish, if Astrea could be considered holy, and why Marion and I were as ever. We wound down, and Gard continued. If we wanted answers, the wizard responsible lived a short distance off our route and Gard would be happy to lead us there. We were all, at first, silent in response to this revelation. Leroy recovered first and asked for the name of the wizard. Gard either didn't know it, wouldn't tell it, or, possibly, could not. I don't know what good it would do to know; we knew no one in the area.
We debated the wisdom of chatting up a powerful wizard in general, and this one in particular, especially as we had no particular goal to satisfy other than curiosity. I said I suspected the crankiness of wizards arose from the fact that no one paid them any attention socially except when, as a supplicant, they wanted a favor. Why not, I said, pay our respects as any traveler might to a noted personage in the area? Alvin said he found himself unable to change back to dragon form, and would like to ask about the spell. He convinced the rest to turn off the road onto the path Gard said would lead us to the wizard.
We reached a clearing after a few moments' ride. A single, small tent and a campfire were visible within the circle of trees. We looked at Gard, who paced up to the tent flap and barked. When there was no response, Gard nosed the flap aside and peered within. I half-expected to see Gard disappear in a puff of magical smoke, to be replaced, perhaps, by a toad, a bunny or a leopard gecko. Nothing happened. Gard backed up, telling us the tent was empty, and suggesting we wait a few minutes.
Jack built the fire up, after putting some root vegetables in the ashes to roast while we waited. The root vegetables were done, and Jack was poking them out when a woman dressed all in brown walked into the clearing. We offered to share, and she joined us in our snack. She complimented Jack on the timing of the roast, introduced herself as Tzika and asked us who we were.
We were all flabbergasted, except Gard, who gummed Leroy's leg in an effort to get a response from him. Tzika pulled the hood she was wearing off, giving us a clear view of her face.
I'd prefer not to relate what next occurred, but the remainder of my tale would make little sense otherwise. When Tzika's face could be seen, I was utterly sure she was my mother, and all the rage I'd buried over the years spent with my foster father and alone, after his death, erupted, and I with it. I attacked her screaming, Leroy tells me, a detailed and horrific litany of what I would do to her.
Never mind that I knew my mother was dead. Gard had told me to believe what my eyes told me and I did. Fortunately, Tzika was not napping, and I was asleep midway through my lunge. I fell, but did not awake, and, according to Astrea, snored loudly with a beatific smile on my face. I think that aura must affect her vision and her hearing both.
When I was awakened, some minutes later, Jack and Leroy were each gripping one of my shoulders and Astrea was straddling my hips. I couldn't move, regardless of how much I might want to, and I tried very, very hard to move. Tzika got a few words in while I was struggling with my traveling companions.
Tzika asked me to concentrate on my mother's face in my earliest recollections of her, before she began her experiments on me. I threw back at her that she had begun before I was even born. Tzika was momentarily taken aback, but quickly recovered, asking me to think of my last recollections of my mother, after I had acquired true-seeing. I stopped struggling, because this was something I had never told anyone. I remembered that I had at first thought my mother replaced by another, until she spoke and moved and, worst of all, continued her experiments on me. She had definitely looked different, and not like Tzika. For that matter, Tzika in no way sounded like my mother, nor did she walk or move like my mother. How could I have failed to realize this? Why had I never thought to search for the woman my mother selected as her disguise? Given her obvious intention to deflect wrath rightfully directed at her onto an innocent party, it should have occurred to me years ago to search for the one whose appearance my mother had stolen -- the enemy of my enemy is at least a possible ally.
I stopped trying to squirm out of the grasp of my friends, and asked Tzika for an explanation. Tzika didn't have one. Collectively, we did piece together a theory. Tzika did not recall meeting my mother, but that didn't mean they hadn't met. Certainly Jerome and Tzika had met. Why mother had decided to experiment on me, we were no closer to knowing, although Tzika was skilled and knowledgeable enough to describe the effects in detail. She gave me pointers on how to control and use at least some of the abilities which had resulted. Mother, speculated Tzika, had thought ahead far enough to realize her experiments, if successful, might result in a hazard to herself and so disguised her appearance to me, in hopes of being able to foist the blame on someone else. Tzika felt that that must have been the limit of her ability to think ahead, and was more likely suggested to her by someone else entirely. Why else foil the disguise by giving me true-seeing?
We finished our meal, belatedly explaining the purpose, or relative lack thereof, of our visit. Tzika reassured Alvin that he would be able to resume dragon form once beyond the reach of the enchantment. Tzika invited us to spend the night and continue visiting. We agreed, and she asked us about our adventures. Jack told her about my journal.
Andy , your friends tell me you leave a lot out of your journal: entire sequences of events, or sometimes just the mention of the tone a remark is uttered in that makes so much difference in how it is to be understood. We all do this, in our minds, when we think of the past, but I think perhaps that events may be edited before you even experience them. That is limiting, and if anyone is in a position to experience to the fullest without fear of the consequences, that person would be you. How you got to be you may have been harrowing, Andy, but you took down a god that sent me running for cover. Have a little faith in yourself.
I want to add a few comments here about what you did to me when you attacked me, thinking I was your never-to-be-sufficiently-damned-unfortunately-too-dead-to-punish-directly mother. I'm not complaining. I'm telling you in writing in your journal so you'll have something to remind you, even though you have already edited it out of your own recollection.
You did not just scream, as you quote Leroy (accurately, but incompletely) saying. You enacted an appalling list of attacks upon my being. Before the first one hit me, I had already completed a spell to induce a deep, peaceful sleep upon you. The fireball was relatively easy to deflect. You can still see the burned trees if you look before we break camp. The lightning I ducked away from. We all took a jolt, though, because the ground wasn't completely damp. Try to go easy on your friends for the next few days. Their hearts have taken a beating, so to speak. I mean that literally. In the process of ducking the lightning bolt, I jumped to one side, fortunately, away from the hole that opened up in the ground. It swallowed part of the flames left over from the fireball instead. The trees and shrubbery in the area have over time grown to know me, partly as a result of the spells that are constantly present. They resisted your efforts to convince them to engulf and strangle me. Still, it took several hours to disentangle Leroy and Astrea. I'm not sure how Jack made sure he was out of the way. Possibly the foliage was a little bit afraid of him. I find that flora are often wiser than fauna when it comes to making that kind of judgment call. Your attempt to turn all animals in the area against me extended only to Gard, who still has a bruise on her temple where she hit her head against a tree trunk rather than humiliate herself by turning on me. You should be very polite to her for the next few days. She has a tendency to hold a grudge. I saw at least three other spells fizzle as you finished falling asleep. If you ever recollect what they were, I'd love to hear about them.
Tzika stayed up much of the night reading my journal, long after I'd turned in. When I got up the next morning, Tzika asked for a word with me alone. She talked to me about what she wrote above. She made me believe her. That shook me. She not only read my journal, but convinced Leroy and Jack to tell her my real name. She wasn't shy about using it, either. She says she's going to tell me the same thing every morning until I get it, and she'll use my name to make sure it gets through, and she insisted I write down what she's going to tell me, to help me remember after the reminder wears off, or someday when we go our separate ways.
Get over it, Andy. You took down Squiddie. You have nothing to fear.
It's not true, of course, however many times Tzika says it, the reality is that I had a lot of help with Squiddie. She says that no one would have lasted long enough to do anything without my protection, though. I don't know what to think, but I feel better today than I remember feeling in a long time, maybe ever. I also feel worse.
Tzika wanted to see the snake that wound around my body. I obliged, as she had helped me already with advice, and I still felt guilty about lunging at her. I asked her why she lived out in the woods here, alone, with only a tent. She continued staring at my body, tracing the snake with one finger. When she reached the head of the snake, the hood of it expanded, and the snake lunged at her. She jumped back, startled. That had never happened before. Then again, no one had ever paid that much attention to the snake before. She was at a loss to explain what it meant.
I closed my clothing again, and asked what else had happened while I was unconscious yesterday, since a lot more time had elapsed than I had realized. Tzika explained she was here, hiding from a former client that had turned on her a century or so back, a client I realized must have been Squiddie, based on the description. They had all pieced this together yesterday. Astrea said Tzika was initially dismissive, but after reading the journal passages about Squiddie, especially the battle of Kathmandu, she became more and more excited and even bubbly. She thanked everyone (except me, since I was still out cold, grinning madly and snoring loudly), kissing and hugging everyone. Astrea says Tzika wrestled with Gard briefly, then made the rounds, hugging everyone again, and making Alvin blush by giving him a hicky on the neck.
Tzika, had we found her when we were looking for her, would have helped us, but had no ability herself to defeat someone like Squiddie. After that transaction went seriously awry, she had attempted to ally with other gods. None would hire her, however, blaming her for Squiddie's renaissance as a newly popular god. Had she not intervened, Squiddie's followers would have died, been killed, or turned to the worship of less horrible gods, leaving Squiddie to fade back into the primordial muck from which deities emerge. I asked Tzika what she meant by that, and she shrugged, saying it would take hours to explain. Instead, she continued her story. She had traveled further and further south, attempting to protect herself by influencing cities and regional governors, banning the worship of Squiddie in both incarnations, and working to eradicate their adherents. Nothing had worked. Forced out of city after city, castle, hut and hovel, she had resorted to a nomadic existence in the forests south of the colony and north of Bolport. The colony had wanted nothing to do with her, despite several attempts to ingratiate herself with each of the last three leaders. She did not know Gabrielle. She'd abandoned efforts at contact several decades ago.
Living in a tent had some favorable aspects. So few possessions, she said, were easy to care for, simple to replace and not valuable enough to attract thieves. There was plenty of time to think and learn, to explore the worlds around her, physical, magical and, of late, spiritual. Having no access to many of the expensive components she had previously needed to work her magic, she learned enough to substitute natural and commonly available items, becoming more powerful in so doing. The local enchantment was the result of a long series of experiments on the edge of magic. She pointed out that the enchantment had fooled even my true-seeing. I agreed, and she happily expounded on why that had worked. The explanation made little sense, but the gist was that transformations which brought the transformed closer to the perceived state of their inner self were difficult, if not impossible, to detect by magical means.
By this time, everyone else had packed and eaten and was ready to go. Tzika intended to leave most of her stuff, but Jack talked her into taking most of her possessions along at least until we reached a place where they could be replaced. She gathered her things, and we helped pack them with ours. Tzika was excitable as we traveled, and we found it difficult to get her to pay attention to simple questions directly related to the safety of the group, like, could we expect further attacks from the wolves, or other unusual creatures in the forest, resulting from that or other enchantments. Her replies were flippant and unsatisfactory, and she was far more interested in asking us questions about rulers long dead, cities we hadn't visited, or hadn't stayed in long, or in some cases, had never heard of. She turned to asking about the latest tales making the rounds, popular songs, new styles of dress and grooming. Astrea was helpful here, as was Leroy, and I was not too far out of date on how those with more money than taste wasted their gold.
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Copyright Rebecca Allen, 1999.
Created: July 8, 2012 Updated: July 8, 2012