The Power of the Crystalline Trees Read online

  Lan continued to travel with a bounce in his step through the forest, enjoying the day. He refused to let himself worry about Boosha. She’d be in the village waiting for him after his adventure and they’d have a laugh about things, like the squirrel scolding him. His life would go back to the way it had been.

  His shadow had switched from the left side of his body to almost nothing, then began showing up on his right side. It was past noon when he approached a thick grove of willows that ran east to west as far as he could see. Stopping to admire the silver leaves against the reddish branches, Lan remembered all the times he’d cut willow branches for Boosha. She used the leaves for tea to ease pain and the branches to make baskets. Lan loved that in the Balance of All That Is, willows wove together the edges of a stream bed to prevent erosion while they were also great for weaving into furniture.

  Just before Lan’s life had turned upside down, John had promised to show him how to make a bent-willow chair. He didn’t know if the willows would still be pliable by the time he got back. The thought, “if he got back” trickled through his mind, but he pushed it away. He couldn’t...no, wouldn’t, think like that right now.

  Keeping to his plan to make as much progress through the woods as possible, Lan decided to cut through the willows instead of hiking around. The willows bunched tightly together from the ground to their waving tips above his head. They did an effective job of keeping out larger animals that might chew on their soft inner bark. Lan wasn’t exactly small or short, but if he was careful where he placed his feet, his long arms could push back the willows to make room for the rest of his body. Stepping into the willow forest and opening the branches in front of him, Lan felt more than up to the task. A little bit of tough navigating in exchange for a shorter path was a good trade off.

  Lan’s good mood began to slip just a bit as he maneuvered through the willows. Their pungent, almost minty, smell seemed to be getting stronger as he resorted to twisting and turning and squeezing through the branches.

  He began to get irritated with his slow progress. Was that just his imagination that the trees were getting harder to get through? He’d push several willow branches aside and they pushed back! They grabbed Lan's tunic and threaten to tear the fabric if he moved too fast. He had to be careful with his clothes. They were the only ones he had. Who knew how long they had to last.

  Lan's appreciation for willows and all the ways they helped him in the past turned to resentment as they blocked his path. Like trying to break through a line of people with linked arms, the task felt impossible. It was one of him against the many willows. The only thing that kept him going was the determination not to turn around and go back. That would mean losing a whole day on his journey, not to mention having to admit to himself he’d been wrong with his plan.

  Now a new misery presented itself. Small black flies began attacking him, attracted to his sweaty neck and hands. The first bite felt like it took a chunk of skin from under his ear. Without thinking, Lan released the willow branch he was holding to slap at the fly. The branch immediately smacked him in the face, leaving a welt. It was clear he was going to have to just let the flies bite him until he forced his way out of the willows.

  Lan was so intent on moving forward, step by grueling step as he fought and wrestled with the willows, that he failed to notice he’d reached the end of the stand. Like being launched from a sling-shot, the willows ejected him from their midst. He almost sailed off the cliff in front of him. Gasping from exertion, Lan scrambled back from the edge.

  Before him lay a rocky ravine filled with piles of jagged, black shale. Breaking up the rocks were dark, leafless trees. It took him a moment to realize that what he thought were tree branches were actually up-ended roots. Like frozen mouths they gasped for earth instead of air. Everything was a shade of black, including the tree trunks, the rocky shale, and even the dark stream at the bottom. The sunlight, incapable of penetrating the ravine, had been sucked out of every object.

  Lan’s heart sank. This was a sizable challenge to navigate that made the willows seem easy in comparison. He was going to have to climb over a lot of dead timber on slippery footing on the way down and then do the same climbing back up the other side.

  Sitting down with the ravine in front of him and the willows to his back, Lan plotted out his route. He could see that the other side of the ravine offered only a few places where he’d be able to climb out. He had to get his navigation points clearly in his mind before starting. He imagined Boosha giving him a nod of approval for not launching himself headlong down the gully.

  Apart from the need to make a plan, though, he was glad to catch his breath. His hair was sweat-plastered to his head and neck. It was going to dry in stiff, hard clumps. He hated when it looked and felt like that. The fly bites were starting to burn and swell from the sweat and heat of his skin. One good thing about willows was that they grew in moist areas. Reaching into the rotted debris at the base of the willows behind him, he dug into the moist dirt and decomposed willow leaves and began applying the mixture to his neck and then hands. He put some on his face, too, where the willow had smacked him. The mud compound was cooling and he felt instant relief. The flies stopped swarming around his head now that they couldn’t reach any bare skin. The relief was so great he didn’t care what he looked like with his bright red face, plastered-down hair and muddy neck and cheeks.

  While he contemplated a way through the tree maze and the ravine, Lan picked up the stick he’d found. Taking the knife from his belt, he carefully notched the end, making a point on one side but leaving the other side untouched. John had explained to him that one notch kept the digging end strong while two notches would weaken it.

  And just like that he had his digging stick. He immediately dug a hole between the willows, knowing it would fill up with water to drink. When the water reached close to half a finger, he carefully dipped his cup into it. He rolled each mouthful around his tongue and inside his cheeks before swallowing. It didn't taste as crystal clear as the liquid from the Water Plants, but his body was grateful for hydration.

  After all the exertion to get through the willows, Lan not only felt ravenous but also a bit weak. He hoped he’d find some mushrooms on the dead trees below and failing that, some kind of insects that he could eat. He flinched at the thought of having to munch on bugs but his stomach was driving the need for food and it wasn’t being particular about the type.

  Lan peered intently at the ravine in front of him and spotted a fallen tree off to his right that crossed the creek. He’d have to angle that way on his way down. He noticed a good spot off to his left on the other side for making his way out of the ravine.

  How could he keep his bearings once he was in the darkness of the ravine? What he needed was a marker to help his navigation. Lan spotted several light-colored stones near him and began stacking them on top of each other to create a pyramid. They weren’t perfectly white, but they were lighter than the rocks in the ravine and stood out against the backdrop of the red willows. His simple pyramid would direct him to the right angle to reach the log bridge, then he could reposition himself to reach the spot for climbing out on the other side.

  Lan drank one more cup of water and stripped some leaves off the willows to take with him. If the bug bites continued to bother him, he’d have a remedy on hand. Then he lowered himself cautiously over the edge. Immediately his feet sank into the loose shale and he began to slide, arms flailing to keep his balance. He managed to stay upright until he reached the first log, but his momentum caused him to tumble over it. He landed face down, his hands breaking his fall, disturbing several rocks. Underneath ants were scurrying around trying to move their eggs to safety. His stomach over rid his squeamishness, and he began eating the round, white pellets that stood out starkly on the black rocks. Salty and crunchy, the eggs surprised him with how good they tasted. Lan wondered if it was because he was so hungry. He didn’t know how many he’d have to eat to fill himself up, but it helped a little for now. Lan moved several more rocks looking for larvae while he was still on his stomach, then slowly got to his feet after he’d devoured them all.

  Moving cautiously, Lan inched his way down the slope. Each step seemed to threaten a small avalanche or another fall. He had to decide whether to step between the rocks and risk slashing his ankles or step on the rock and have it shift and move. Slowly he began finding a rhythm. It wasn’t graceful but it avoided face planting at each turn. Shifting sideways, he stepped down, waited for the rocks to quit moving, then stepped down again. When he arrived at a log, he skirted the huge roots until he reached a smaller part of the trunk. Climbing over it, he then started the step, stop, step down again. Occasionally, he looked up to check his location in relation to the rock pyramid and then continued.

  Lan was so focused on not falling he hadn’t noticed the sounds coming from all around him till he stopped to rest his legs and knees. High pitched “eeeeks” came from certain rocks. He noticed small clumps of cut grass laying on the flat, sharp-edged stones, but Lan couldn’t figure out what was making the sounds. Peering intently at one rock close to him, Lan finally saw a small, furry ball with big ears and no tail, hidden in the shadows of the rocks. It did not like the intrusion of the big giant in its backyard and warned the others about him. Lan had never seen one before, but Boosha had told him about these cute critters called pikas. Evidently this ravine wasn’t as lifeless as it had appeared from above. That cheered him up and he felt slightly less alone.

  It was getting late. The already dark ravine darkened even more. Lan decided to stop when he reached the bottom, where he’d have access to water and flat ground, then climb out first thing in the morning. Just then the hawk swooped over his head, crying out as it did. Startled, Lan stopped and looked up at the red flash of its belly as it sailed up the other side of the ravine and landed in a tree. It seemed to be the same raptor had he’d seen earlier. Was the bird following him? Lan shook his head, dismissing the thought as silly, but wishing he had his own pair of wings.

  The pikas abruptly stopped calling to each other. Lan wondered if they were hiding from the sharp-eyed hawk. From above and off to his right Lan heard a low thundering sound. He turned toward the sound, trying to figure out what it might be. The sound grew louder, but Lan could not see anything making the noise. The willows were all stillness above him and the downed trees in the ravine had lost their ability to respond. Suddenly, he was knocked on his back as a savage, howling wind slammed into him. With the wind, total darkness descended.

  Blinded and consumed by the howling wind, Lan crawled toward a large log, hoping to take cover. The wind buffeted him from over the top and around the sides of the trunk while roaring in his ears and sucking out his breath. Squeezing as tightly as he could into the rocks underneath the log, Lan curled into a small ball with his arms over his ears.

  He’d heard of this wind and had been told it was a result of the Earth changes, but he’d never actually experienced it. People in the village said this wind could drive you mad. If this was what had knocked down the trees, how could he survive?

  Throughout the night the wind relentlessly pounded him, blocking all of his senses. Lan was unable to escape it. He grew colder and began shivering. He briefly thought of retrieving the cloak from his bag but sitting up in the wind seemed impossible. And even if he succeeded in getting it, surely the cloak would instantly fly away or be shredded.

  Eventually every thought was driven from his mind as he endured the endless onslaught of the wind. His eyes filled with so many tears they glued shut. When he tried to get a sense of time by looking at the stars, he discovered his eyes wouldn’t open. Lan felt himself separate from himself. He became part of the landscape like one of the trees that had blown over. A pain in his head grew in crescendo to match the wind. He clung to one small point of light in his mind that was his last anchor to reality.

  After an eternity of no-time, Lan slowly came back into himself. It was day. The wind had stopped. His ears throbbed in the deafening silence. He rubbed his eyes to unstick them but could barely see, they were so gummed up and gritty. It was strange to be in the ravine, now quiet in the daylight, as if nothing had happened.

  Lan stood with legs trembling from cold and fatigue, and stumbled toward the swiftly moving creek. His whole sense of direction had been blown out of him during the night. Glancing back up at his rock pyramid, he was surprised and reassured to see it was still standing, glinting in the sunlight. Evidently the wind didn’t stray out of the ravine. The sunlight at the top of the ravine woke a fierce longing to be out of this lifeless place. He sprinted across the log bridge and began making his way up the other side. It proved to be slow going, as he took a step and slid back, then took another step and slid back, but the hiking warmed him and his deep core shivering finally stopped.

  Eventually he reached the top and felt a small flicker of relief that he’d navigated right to where he’d planned. With one final heave, he was out of the ravine. He lay on his back, looking up at the sky, exhausted, hungry and discouraged. He was beginning to doubt his plan and himself. A few more obstacles like the ones he’d just endured and he feared he’d be finished forever.

  As the life force flowed back into his limbs, Lan’s mood shifted. Maybe the worst was behind him. Lan chuckled, feeling his natural good humor restored now that he was safe. If only that wind had been in the willows, it could have done all the work of carving a path through the branches and kept the flies off him as well!

  Up ahead, Lan caught a wonderful sight for his starving body. Could it be? Yes! A whole grove of pecan trees. Their grey, furrowed bark and towering sizes told him these trees had been around for a while. The last time he’d seen pecan trees this big, Boosha had told him they had to be at least 100 years old.

  The ground was covered with hundreds of utterly delicious and nutritious nuts in their brown coverings. Eagerly scooping them up by the handful, he carried them over to the base of a tree that looked like a natural chair. Sitting down, Lan grabbed two rocks and began cracking the pecans open. Cramming the meat into his mouth, he kept eating until his stomach was full and extended. A satisfied belch was his signal to stop. Completely satiated, Lan rested in the sunshine between the trees. His limbs were so heavy he felt like he was melting into the ground. Listening to the bird songs in the grove, he decided to rest and take up his journey in a little while.

  Feeling warm, safe and hopeful, Lan fell asleep with a smile on his face. He didn’t see the hawk that swooped over him and disappeared into the tree branches, nor the fog that settled in, obscuring the sun. And he definitely didn’t see the Map Compass go blank.

  Chapter Three

  Starting Over

  Lan woke with his face stuck on his arm, dried spittle acting as glue. He grimaced as he rubbed off the crusty stain on his face. The things his body did repulsed him sometimes. He never thought he’d miss brushing his teeth or changing his clothes, but the past few days had shown him how those simple actions helped him feel good overall. Now he felt gritty, grimy, and clammy. What had happened to the warmth from the sun?

  His brain began to register the dense, grey fog that had settled in. The birds, twittering and singing in the pecan grove when he arrived, had gone silent. With no vision, his ears strained to figure out where he was. Getting slowly to his feet, he tried to peer ahead through the grove. At least, he thought he was looking the way ahead. With visibility less than an arm’s length, nothing looked familiar. What if he walked in the wrong direction and plunged off the edge of the ravine? He’d have to either wait out the fog or proceed very slowly. Then Lan remembered the Map Compass.

  Taking it out of his pack, he eagerly looked for the needle’s sweeping arc and the point that would show his present location. The screen was blank. Thinking the moisture from the fog might be to blame, he wiped off the device. Nothing appeared. He shook it. It remained blank. Lan took a few steps in the direction he thought was right while watching the face of the Map Compass. Without even a flicker, it stayed maddeningly dead.

  Should he wait out the fog until he could use the sun for guidance? Without the Map Compass, though, Lan’s confidence in his plan was gone. Boosha always told him to stop doubting himself. What was it she said? If he received three positive signs, his inner knowing voice was telling him yes. But if he received three negative signs, that was a no. The trouble was trying to figure out if a sign was positive or negative. Like that hawk that swooped over his head twice yesterday, was that a positive sign? And besides, the bird hadn’t appeared a third time so maybe that didn’t count.

  Just then a hawk’s single sharp cry called out from somewhere in the fog, startling Lan with its timing. He guessed that could be the third sign, but was it good or bad? Lan thought back on the day before, looking for other signs, and began counting with his fingers. One! Those willows seemed like a clear “no.” Two! That ravine and the awful wind, that had to be a “no.” Three! The Map Compass going blank and the fog obscuring everything was certainly a negative sign.

  Slowly it dawned on him. With the Map Compass going blank he wouldn’t be able to proceed. If he wanted to avoid being lost forever in the Forest of Dandaka, he was going to have to follow his tracks back to where he’d started. Suddenly his heart lifted and he smiled. He could go back to Boosha and tell her he couldn’t do what she wanted because the Map Compass had failed. He’d try to look upset when he told her.