The Call To Adventure: Secrets of the Deranged Dryad

First of Yarran, 2004 PV

He sat under the oak, basking in a patch of sunlight that had made its miraculous way to earth through the twisted branches. He watched his friend dozing in the thick grass nearby and thought idly of waking him. They were ostensibly hunting, but had gotten sidetracked by this odd tree, all alone in the middle of a clearing. They had decided to keep it company for an hour, but had now used up most of the afternoon. Out loud, he mused, "I wonder what it is like. The Dying Lands, I mean."

Brian snorted, more awake than he’d looked. "A wasteland, likely. If it even still exists. The Humans have probably destroyed it utterly by now. They kill everything. Did a word of the Elders’ lectures sink into that thick skull of yours? Or were you to busy trying to catch a glimpse of the Baroness’ wrist?"

He flushed and shot his friend an irritated glance. "No, I listened. And I did see up her sleeve. Smooth and creamy as milk," he sighed. "But still, I wonder. They could have changed after we sealed the gates. And surely the Elders exaggerated. Nothing could be that destructive. It isn’t as if there is still any in living memory who has seen the Dying Lands, much less met a Human."

"There is a reason for that, my Friend," Brian replied, sitting up.

"You do realize all we have is the word of people who were dust when our grandparents were babes in arms." He drawled with a wicked grin. As expected, his friend immediately began to flush in anger. "Merely jesting! I do rather doubt that the Elders would lie. Yet surely even you should be able to admit that they are not faultless. Is it not reasonable to think that one individual may have exaggerated? And then another, and yet another, until we have what is, for all intents and purposes, a lie?" He finished proudly, "Our Elders could be very much mistaken and through no fault of their own."

Brian answered slowly, "Yes. I do see your point." He grinned and added, "I still think you are wrong. You generally are."

"Uppity Commoner!" He cried, violently throwing a wad of moss at the other man.

"Arrogant Noble!" Brian crowed, or tried to. The clump caught him in the face and he ended up spitting bits of moss out of his mouth. "We both know that there is no way for us to discover the ‘truth’ of the matter; the gates are sealed…" Brian trailed off at his friend’s wicked grin. "You’ve been speaking to that deranged dryad again, haven’t you? Did your parents not forbid you to associate with her?"

"I have indeed been speaking with her. She is most certainly not mad, Brian." He paused and pursed his lips. "Well, perhaps a bit eccentric. But, all that aside, she is ready to tell her great secret."

"The great secrets she’s been going on about for the last seventy years?" Brian exclaimed. "Let’s go."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

She twisted in her sleep, nearly waking. She dreamed that she was trapped in a roiling mist so thick she could not see her hand before her face. She cried out for her mother, but couldn’t find her. The mist thickened; she was underwater. A face appeared in the mist. Her mother! Her eyes were open, but sightless. She was too late. Something caught her foot, and she could not get to the surface.

She struggled, but could not get free. She cried out for her father. He appeared next to her in the murky water, but staggered as blood began to pour down his face. He slid deeper into the water, out of sight. Her lungs were about to burst. She used the last of her air to call out for help. Suddenly, a hand was reaching for her and a man pulled her from the water. "I will always save you from any danger," he murmured, "but never from yourself." He pushed her and she fell back towards the cold waters of a lake.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The dryad cackled," You want my secret, do you? And why should I tell you anything? Your fathers could tell ye if they’d put their minds to it. But they’ll not. They won’t even talk about it! But they saw, they know, they think they do not but they do. Why should I tell you? You got nothing I want." She stuck out her tongue and leapt back into her tree. Ten seconds later, she popped back out.

"Come close, come close. You have something I want. I’ll tell, but only if you swear you’ll tell my sister Whishsaw that I made it here with my sapling when you see her." They so swore and she nodded in satisfaction. "In the days when I was barely more than a seed, the Elders of that time went to each gate they knew of and closed them one by one. They searched most carefully to be assured that not a one was left unsealed. This was a slow business and the undertaking was onerous, so there came a day when they began to be less assiduous about their duties. They could not conceive of a dryad who would want to be a tree that existed in two worlds. There is indeed a gate open. I saw someone go through it, I did; a woman. But so far as I can tell, the thing is open but one day a year." She leaned forward and whispered, "I tossed acorns at it to see when it was open. Wasn’t that very clever of me?"

They assured her that it was indeed, and then Brian asked, "So when is it open?" He hoped they’d already missed it. He prayed it was so.

The Dryad gave him a sweet smile. "That would be when the sun touches the horizon. Today."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

She screamed, feeling one foot go numb the second it touched the water. She came to an abrupt halt. Another man had caught her. "Wake up. No matter where you are, I’ll find you." He seemed familiar, though she could not quite make out his features. He smelled of apples and earth and burning leaves. "Wake up, love. Wake up." Large black birds burst into the air around her and her eyes snapped open.

Not certain if she was still dreaming, she stood up. The knots in her back convinced her that she was awake. An odd protrusion on the tree caught her eye. A boot tip? What the…? She froze.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

It had taken long and long to convince Brian to come with him. Only when his friend realized that he’d go alone did he agree. They stopped by the old hunting cabin (they were not, for some reason, allowed to go there, though that had certainly never stopped them) to argue and pick up their supplies. Periodically, their fathers would travel here and spend a few weeks. There was much debate as to what exactly occurred during such ventures, though the general consensus was that it involved a lot of brandy wine and fishing. Since they had first found the place, they had discovered that the Count and his steward apparently did the upkeep themselves. That they were unaccustomed to such was proven once again when Brian’s foot went through a loose board. "God’s Eye! Let us leave here before I break my neck," Brian groused. He inspected his foot, and then paused. "Something’s under there." He knelt down and carefully reached into the small space. He withdrew a small, fat book. It was leather bound with thick parchment paper pages. The tiny clasp and heart shaped lock were made of an odd alloy that they were unfamiliar with.

"What do you think it is?"

"I haven’t the least idea, but it can’t be terribly old or it would have rotted by now." He glanced outside and swore. "It’s going to be dark if we don’t leave right now. And I think I’d prefer to be in another world than sleep the night in this place. We’d likely wake to it falling down about our ears."

Brian sighed and nodded. The cabin had always raised the hackles on his neck so he chose to ignore his friend’s exaggeration. Soon they were off, still debating as to whether or not to take the horses. It was settled when they reached the Gate and the horses absolutely refused to enter. They unloaded them and slapped them on the rump, knowing they would find their way home. He gripped Brian’s hand and closed his eyes. Slowly, he stepped forward, half expecting it not to work. After all, it wasn’t every day that one stepped into a tree. Unless one is a dryad, of course.

He felt a cool tingle on his skin, like a thin sheet of water, as he passed into the Gate. The light of a dying sun had warmed his back, but now he stood in utter darkness. The temperature was neither warm, nor cool, just as the air was neither fresh, nor musty. He took three shuffling steps and discovered that the unseen floor was smooth. He could hear nothing but his breathing and the pounding of his heart. Brian stepped into him and let out a string of curses. Brian gripped a too tightly, but he wisely refrained from commenting. They walked slowly forward. He once attempted to turn back; he might as well have been trying to walk through a stone wall. It seemed that they traveled a long way, but it was impossible to tell with no scenery.

At last, he felt a slight resistance that built gradually. "I think we are close," he cried joyously. Near the end, he felt as if he were forcing his way through a lake of molasses. Yet he had no trouble breathing at all. The light of a rising sun blinded him. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. His eyes widened in alarm. A Human stood before him, her eyes huge and her mouth in a little ‘O’ of shock. He smile and wondered if she were dangerous. No, surely not. What could a female do?