Scarlet and the Keepers of Light (4 page)

5

The Largest Little Village

Dakota stopped at the base of the massive oak, bowed his head low to the ground, and then lifted his muzzle to the heavens and let out a mighty howl. Cricket and the wolves did the same, the canine chorus rising to a crescendo, echoing out into the night.

The myriad points of lights that had been dancing around the tree began to swirl together, forming a cyclone of vibrant colors that encompassed the Hopewells and the canines. Scarlet felt a tingling all over her body, radiating in circles just beneath the surface of her skin. Through the lights that swirled around her, she could just make out the foliage, and as the speed of the luminescent cyclone grew, so did the size of the tree above her. Within moments the ferns that had been underfoot now seemed as tall as trees, and the great oak, which had already been a mighty specimen, was now incomprehensibly vast. After a few moments the tornado of light slowed, and Scarlet could see that each light was actually a person, dressed in shimmering cloth, floating gracefully to the ground on wings that seemed made of the same iridescent material. This, Scarlet correctly guessed, must be the Tounder.

One of the Tounder landed in front of the family. “I am Xavier,” the winged figure said. “Elder of the Tounder and Keeper of Light.” He bowed elegantly and then waved his arm to introduce the many winged figures behind him.

The little man looked very old, with a long beard and hair that matched the glistening white of his wings. He was smaller than the other winged figures, and quite thin. The eyes that lit up with his warm smile were clear amber and shone with a radiance of their own.

“Ch—er—Charles. Charles Hopewell,” Mr. Hopewell mumbled. “I’m with the talking dogs.”

Xavier laughed. It was the most beautiful sound Scarlet had ever heard. “But of course you are. Come with me—you must be exhausted.” He beckoned them toward the massive archway at the base of the oak.

Confusion washed over Scarlet in waves. Nothing from the moment she had woken made any sense. It was as if she had never left her dream, and when she thought about it, that really was the most likely explanation for what was happening to them. A desperate need to wake warred within her with an insatiable curiosity, a sense of wonderment she could not shake. Perhaps if she focused on one unbelievable thing at a time? Work backward, if she must, to a final explanation. She took a moment to study the world around her, focusing not on the whole of the evening but simply on what was before her now.

Finally it came to her. It wasn’t the forest that had grown. They had shrunk.

Xavier looked at the bewildered family and frowned. “Have you told them nothing?” he asked Dakota.

“There was no time,” Dakota answered faintly. “I barely had time to reach some degree of maturity. The Mortada came earlier than expected. I lost a lot of blood and strength in the fight.”

Xavier nodded. “We couldn’t know how long it would take to get you over. That’s my failing. . . . You must be more than a little confused,” he said apologetically to the family. “Come into my home. You can rest while I do my best to explain what I can.”

He turned to Scarlet and smiled, bending down so they were eye to eye. “Yes, my dear.” He chuckled. “We shrank you.”

I didn’t say that out loud, did I?
Scarlet thought. As if in direct reply, Xavier winked at her.

***

Mr. Hopewell was an easygoing sort of man, but still, he liked to consider himself a rational person. It wasn’t that he lacked imagination or didn’t enjoy the occasional fantasy movie or book, but when it came to the world of nonfiction, what you see is generally what you get. He tried to wrap his mind around what he saw in front of him. Rational really wasn’t going to cut it. There was no rational way of explaining the circumstances of following a winged man, who called himself what amounted basically to “the old fairy,” through a hole in a tree that moments ago he wouldn’t have been able to fit his hand into. Not to mention that the tree was now twice the size of the tallest skyscraper Mr. Hopewell had ever seen.

He reached out and took Mrs. Hopewell’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. To her credit, she just smiled and shrugged, having obviously given up her earlier confrontational attitude as futile. Perhaps she was right. There was no point in trying to rationalize away any of this, for the moment at least.

Hand in hand, they walked beneath the arch and into the tree trunk.

Mr. Hopewell had been expecting the space they entered to look like, well, the inside of a tree. Instead, beyond the entranceway stretched a great hall lined with glorious stone columns, carved in the shape of winged figures. The hall was alive with light, though there were no lamps or candles anywhere to be seen. A glow seemed to come from nowhere, and yet everywhere.

“There is a column for each of the elders past,” Xavier said, walking beside Mr. Hopewell. “All fathers of my fathers, going back to the beginning of recorded time.”

There must have been nearly a hundred columns, Mr. Hopewell realized.

They followed the Tounder down a wide stone staircase that wound for what seemed like miles below the earth. Finally they emerged onto the cobblestone street of a medieval village.

***

Scarlet couldn’t believe her eyes. It was a place familiar from her dreams, but those dreams had done nothing to prepare her for the grandeur of the reality. It was as if they weren’t underground at all. Light was everywhere, filling the space with a glowing warmth so much like the light of a summer’s day that her mind was reeling. Hadn’t she just climbed down an impossibly long staircase? Surely in her dreams she hadn’t imagined entering a hollow tree and walking beneath its roots.

Everywhere she looked were unbelievable sights—magnificent gardens, full of fairy-tale flowers, columbines and larkspur and Canterbury bells, around velvety lawns punctuated by dancing fountains; shops selling everything from strange fruits in jewel tones to golden loaves of bread to shimmering fabrics. The main street was lined with statues of fabulous creatures that seemed to be carved out of light. At the center of the town square stood a massive windmill, its long blades turning in languid circles, powered by what looked to be solar panels mounted on them.

Next to this glorious reality, the world of her dreams had been only a faint echo. Now, in the Tounder village, all of her fears and exhaustion melted away. Everywhere busy Tounder were milling around, working, shopping, gossiping, going about their lives as if this were the most normal place in the world.

Scarlet had been shuffling along behind her parents and the old Tounder, but as they passed an open pavilion, she stopped, drawn as if by a magnet to the scene she saw there. Seated on the floor underneath the awning, a group of young Tounder were watching what must have been their teacher working with his hands to form an orb of light. The young Tounder watched him, some taking notes on rough parchment, while others carried on their own quiet conversations, much as Scarlet and her friends did in math class. The teacher circled his hands over the orb, making it grow and shrink and then causing its light to brighten and flicker.

“It must seem quite astounding to you, dear,” Xavier said from right behind her. She started and turned to face him, her face flushed with excitement. “I imagine all this must be.” He paused, smiling at her, and then leaned in close, continuing in a voice just above a whisper. “I can assure you, though, it’s just the beginning of the wonders yet to come.”

Reluctantly, Scarlet pulled herself away from the class to follow Xavier down the street again. As they rounded a bend, what she had seen as only the hint of spires in the distance came fully into view, a gleaming white structure, something between a cathedral and a castle—a palace, maybe, Scarlet thought. It soared above the buildings around it, a spire rising from each of its four corners and generous windows of crystal, carved in the shapes of creatures both familiar and exotic, set into its walls. Two colossal roots descended from the oak tree behind the palace, flanking the spires at the back, running along the ground on each side of the building, and finally meeting to intertwine in an elaborate pattern at the front, where doors would normally be, guarding the main entrance to the palace. At Xavier’s approach the roots slowly unlaced themselves and curled back to allow the group to enter.

Xavier guided them through the grand foyer and into a warm sitting room with couches of wood, upholstered luxuriously with soft leaves filled with dandelion-seed down. Xavier motioned for them to sit on the sofa near the fireplace that dominated the far end of the room. Exhausted, the four humans sat, feeling the fatigue lift from their muscles, a feeling of security and warmth enveloping them.

Dakota seemed to be arguing with one of the Tounder, while Xavier took his seat in a large chair across from the family. He motioned to Dakota, who was reluctantly leaving the room through a doorway hidden in the wall. “He is loyal to a fault, I think. He doesn’t even want to leave you to get his leg fixed.”

“Um,” Mr. Hopewell fumbled. He seemed to be struggling valiantly against an intense desire to close his eyes and go to sleep. “Yeah, he’s a great dog.”

“Yes.” Xavier laughed. “That he is. I guess some answers are in order.”

“That would be nice,” Mrs. Hopewell said wearily.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Melody whispered. Somehow she’d managed to sleep through almost the whole ordeal.

“Oh, how rude of me!” Xavier waved to a group of Tounder waiting by the doorway. “Perhaps the ladies might like to retire for food and rest. I’ll explain what I can to you, Mr. Hopewell.”

Mrs. Hopewell was reluctant, but, looking at the exhausted
children, she agreed to follow the Tounder out of the sitting room with Scarlet and Melody. Cricket followed, not wanting to let the girls out of her sight.

***

Once they had left, Xavier turned back to Charles, handing him a glass of cool liquid that a Tounder had brought in on a platter. Charles drank it down quickly, feeling his thirst instantly quenched.

He looked quizzically at the glass. “What was that?”

“We call it water.” Xavier smiled. “I guess you might call it fairy water.” He let out a bellowing laugh, apparently finding this a grand joke.

Charles smiled back uncomfortably, too tired to enjoy the humor. “Of course. What else would it be?” Looking down at the glass, he realized that it was full again. He was too weary to be shocked, so he just gratefully took another sip.

He’d fully intended to listen keenly. Now, he hoped, he could get some answers, make sense of what was happening to him and his family. He had so many questions, so many fears. Yet somehow just now they didn’t seem as urgent as they had just moments before. A profound feeling of peace enveloped him. Surely it wouldn’t hurt if he laid his head back to rest, just for a moment . . .

Within seconds he was fast asleep.

***

Xavier had expected this. After all, what Mr. Hopewell and his family had been through was exhausting in every possible way. He motioned for another group of Tounder to come and take Mr. Hopewell to his family, then sat down again, relief washing over him.

For the first time in fourteen years, for a moment at least, he could be at peace.

It had been a long time to wait for the greatest gamble of his life to pay off. Although he’d had full faith in Udd Lyall, he could not help but worry whether he’d played his own part well enough. But now that Scarlet was safely under his protection, Xavier could fully concentrate on the next phase of the plan.

Prince Thanerbos was growing stronger with each passing moment. Xavier had no way to tell how long they had left before he reached the full height of his powers. There was no time to waste.

Although he knew that Udd Lyall would only shrug off any expressions of gratitude, Xavier decided that he would try to offer thanks anyway. Even if he hadn’t known where the castle Tounder had taken him, it would not have been difficult to find Udd Lyall. Xavier could hear his disgruntled growls of protest the second he left the sitting room.

He found Udd Lyall lying in the castle’s infirmary, a well-lit room that, small as it was, sufficed for the needs of the entire village. A larger space was not needed; Tounder rarely experienced injuries or got ill, and when they did, it was usually something simple and easily treated.

The Tounder treating Udd Lyall seemed to be quite energized at the chance to handle such a nasty wound. This would be the worst injury most of them would ever witness, and they found it a real treat to hone their skills on something so significant. Udd Lyall, on the other hand, did not appear to be amused in the slightest.

“Watch it,” Udd Lyall growled as one of the Tounder poured a cleaning solution on his shoulder.

Xavier approached the table where Udd Lyall lay, giving his friend the warmest of smiles. Udd Lyall looked up at him with a flash of anger. “Thank you,” Xavier said to the Tounder healers. “You may go.”

Reluctantly the Tounder left, leaving Xavier and Udd Lyall alone. Xavier placed one of his hands over the wound and began singing in a voice so quiet that even Udd Lyall, with his superior canine ears, had difficulty hearing him. It was a soft, lilting song, and as Xavier sang, his hand began to glow with a warm yellow light. The wound on Udd Lyall’s shoulder closed, healing in a manner of minutes.