The Questory of Root Karbunkulus - Quill (13 page)

Root gasped at the sight. Everyone did.
Through the orange-y tinge Hilly Punyun could be seen permanently
petrified in a crouch. A perfect ‘o’ shaped her mouth. Her hands
were set stiff, held out in vain protection. To her left and right
were Pidge and Sharmay. Fear was forever mapped on their faces

Surrounding the Pinks were insects so large
the team was grateful they’d been captured and other strange
creatures, mostly rodents and a sickeningly large snake that was
entombed in the amber of sixteen trees (Lian counted).

Skubblenob dropped his remote, not because it
was burning right through to his palms but because he realized, for
the first time that he’d put his charges in danger. Serious
danger.

“Kidlets, I think it’s time to go.” He
whispered without moving.

A whimper brought their attention to a large
black tree to the right.

Poor Chesterly, didn’t even see it coming.
The resin was already halfway up his legs. Not even the desperate
pulling, yanking and pushing of three teens, three Hovers and one
old man could help him escape. The amber had caught him in its
gluey’d trap. And now it was slurping down the tree, sticking his
hair and ears and poor Chesterly’s short tail, no matter that it
had sunk between his legs.

The thing with swamp amber is that it is
everywhere. It leaks from trunks and branches, rises up from roots,
leaving nothing unstuck in its path. And so it was that sixteen
more legs were efficiently caught in its warm, thick syrupy
trap.

After Chesterly, Skubblenob was the next to
be entirely encased. Within mere seconds he became a permanent
fixture, forever reaching for his beloved Hover, a look of
desperate apology and regret etched in the lines of his face.

Dwyn was the last. He’d managed to get a fair
distance away before his legs could no longer push through the
amber. He turned to look for his friends and as the last golden
liquid gooped over his head he spied Root. Frozen. Her arms were
spread over her dear Stogie, vainly trying to keep him protected.
As Dwyn felt his own body seize up, his eyes caught the suspended
image Lian, desperately digging in the travel pack. Dwyn did not
see his beloved Hana behind him, frozen in her attempt to get him
on her back.

Now what many people do not know is that
swamp amber does not kill you. At least not right away. Lian
concluded early on that the amber put its victims in a sort of
stasis where bodily functions slow down to the point of
near
death, not Death death. But exactly how long this would take, he
had no idea. Digestion was already stalled and days later he was
still not hungry. He surmised that breathing had also slowed and
came about most likely through the thousands of tiny air bubbles
that had seeped in with the amber.

He was encouraged by the story of Inavere
Cracklin, who’d been rescued from amber after many months in its
belly. And yet, there was something about her that had changed. Her
body had swiftly returned to health but her mind…well, months of
isolation seemed to have taken a toll. She was never the same. And
so, with this in mind, Lian spent his eternal hours in a strict
regime of study. To him it was his best mode of defense against the
games his mind would soon play.

Dwyn, too had come to this conclusion but, in
the way that is Dwyn, he’d decided not to waste all this free time
in study but in adventure. He sent his mind on spectacular missions
and journeys using every ounce of his abilities as he did, facing a
myriad of dangers and forcing himself to live it, moment by moment.
If he couldn’t actually do it live, in his mind was the next best
thing. Either way he would eventually die feeling the same way.

Over the next few days Root relaxed her body
into its eternal mold, resigned to her doom, at least no longer
fighting it with the kind of tension that made her joints ache. She
did not slip so easily into ‘positive thinking’ as her teammates
had. Instead she spent many hours thinking the worst. And when it
didn’t happen, she felt herself drift into desperation. Into limbo,
the mind’s playground. Here she came face to face with many foes,
amongst them the great shadows, Doubt and Fear who taunted her with
delight.

“Who were you to have ever thought you could
be somebody?”

“Face it, you really are nothing more than a
common thief.”

“And now you’re going to die.”

“Come now. Be sensible. Just….let…go.”

“No!” Root attempted but it came out like a
feeble wet rag that made her feel even weaker.

Her legs ached to run and hide but the amber
held her like a straight jacket The rest of her body panicked,
struggled in its trap. Her mind ran toward hysteria. She could feel
madness slinking in, trying to sway her into a doughy
surrender.

That’s when Jorab’s words wafted up warm and
comforting, like the healing mists of a hot spring. “
The mind is
mighty for it houses belief, which is everything. And belief in
one’s self is mightiest of all.
Hold fast, little
Root.
”

With that, Root’s mind heaved a great sigh of
strength, turned and staggered away from its bleak and warped
playground. Soon, she found herself back, encased in amber, looking
at the world through a copper tinge. With all of time before her
she would at the very least enjoy her own company. And the company
of anything else within eyeshot. In this case, the startled body of
a giant guinea pig or marmot of some kind. Great. The entire rest
of her life would be spent staring at a rodent. It was an ugly
thing with wiry hair clumped here and there along its fat, sausage
of a body and blotchy grey face. She had no idea what it was. So
with nothing better to do on the agenda she spent hours pondering
it. And the more she did, the more she realized it was less a
rodent and more a pig…or a cow. Yes, even the nose, fat and wide
was a cowish nose. Plus the legs had hooves….Definitely of the
bovine family. But so small…wait! Maybe it was a thumb horse? No,
too big. And too ugly. A thumb cow? Does DréAmm have those? When it
dawned on her that perhaps this cow-pig-rodent was a baby
cow-pig-rodent, her heart seized in the kind of way one’s does when
one sees a puppy. Poor baby! No matter that this was probably the
ugliest cow-pig-rodent-puppy she’d ever seen. A baby is a still
baby and well, this posed all sorts of maternal feelings. And moral
outrage! Poor thing. It just wasn’t fair.

“Fairness is subjective.” Came a deep, low
scratchy voice in Root’s head. If she hadn’t been stone stiff
she’d’ve surely jumped. But instead she endured the thumping attack
of her heart. Was this Fear returned?

“I will not fight you.” she thought and once
again turned her focus away.

“You cannot fight us. You are immobile.”

“In body, perhaps but not mind.” she
responded.

“Clearly yes, but it is not your mind we are
concerned with.”

Root wondered what ‘we’ meant. Had madness
come as well? Was she losing this game after all?

“Who is this?” she demanded.

“We are the Glawering.”

“Who?”

“We that have so captured you into tombs
of

our blood.”

Root paused. Blood? Tombs of blood?

Okay, this was getting way too…Wait a minute…
“You mean the amber?”

“We do.”

“You’re the trees?”

“Not mere trees. We are the Glawering,
the

Shepherds of Life.”

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job!”

“Perhaps, from your perspective as you have
been delayed of life.”

“Not just me. Look at all the other innocent
creatures you’ve captured. What did they do to deserve this?

“The amber spills without prejudice. Until
the hour of restitution, all who trespass shall bide such
fate.”

“Hour of restitution? What’s that supposed to
mean?” Root had hated Shakespeare in school and now resented having
to decrypt the baroque language of these things, too.

“Once many and proud, the Glawering spread
from sea to sea. But now, at the hands of your nations we are all
that remain. Thus all life that housed in our branches and took
breath from our essence and ate of our nourishing leaves and took
safety in our hollows, are gone.”

Before Root could make sense of what the
Glawering was saying she had to make sense of herself. Had she gone
mad? Or was she actually somehow conversing with swamp trees?

“Quatra has given you much of itself, Root
Karbunkulus. We have not seen the likes of its power in one since
the ancient days.”

So she
was
conversing with them. With
real trees, albeit trees that were clearly feeling justified in
keeping her hostage.

“So, what happened?” she asked.

“You tell us.”

“I…I don’t know. You said there were many of
you? And now there are few? Were you…chopped down?” There was no
reply and she knew it was true. They’d been somehow destroyed.

“But, can’t you…y’know propagate?” Wow, good
word. Lian had been rubbing off, after all. “And grow somewhere
else?”

“In this we are barren.”

“Why?”

“The last of our seed is fallen. It lies
dormant in this black place, where the soil is poisoned from
battle. We do not bear fruit. We do not bear leaves, we do not bear
the sweet blossoms of life.”

“There was a battle here?”

“War and war again.”

Root went silent. And then she had an idea.
“I know of one who can nurse your seed and give you back your life.
He’s my friend, captured here in your amber. I believe there’s no
one better to do this.”

The Glawering tumbled out a long, deep laugh
that sounded like distant thunder. “You think us fools!”

“No! No, I don’t. It’s true! He’s a
Natruid!”

The trees hummed a deep rolling of sound.
“The Natruids are gone the way of death. They seek to dominate
nature, not harmonize with it.”

“That’s not true! Lian loves nature. He
respects it as no one I’ve ever seen! He’s gifted in this and I’m
certain beyond doubt that he can help you.”

The Glawering whispered and hummed with a
bottomless boom that made Root’s amber cocoon vibrate. “And then
what, Root Karbunkulus? Who shall take our seed from this land of
death? Who shall spread it back into the corners of DréAmm?”

“I will!” Root shouted. “I will do that.”

She was answered with silence. A long silence
that pressured her to persuade further. “I will do it, not for my
escape, nor the escape of my friends, nor the escape of the
innocent animals amongst your prey. I will do it because, despite
your actions here, you are deserving of this. As are those that
would benefit from you. I will do it because I…because I want
to.”

“We have heard these words before.” The
Glawering thrummed. “You are no different, Root Karbunkulus.”

Root felt them leaving her. Her heart
fell.

“In these words you may trust.” came a new
voice. It was not the Glawering and yet its round and mellow tones
had a familiarity Root could not place. It continued. “I have seen
this child. She acts in heart and you will do well by her
offering.”

Who is that?
Root thought. She flipped
through her files of memories, trying to put a face to this voice
that she knew she knew. It wasn’t Jorab. He comes in more clear.
This voice came in more like a flicking pulse of feeling.

“Root Karbunkulus.” The Glawering said with
the ring of an old ancient bell. “The Tagit snake claims you as
true to heart.”

The Tagit! The Tagit! Oh my goodness! Root’s
mind leapt as she reconciled the voice with the double-headed
snake. Her friend! The Tagit, who had taken her and hundreds more
on his back to help them escape slavery. Who had stripped himself
into two and sacrificed one for her freedom. Then she made the
connection. This was the other half that had escaped and was now
encased in the amber of sixteen trees.

“Tagit?” she said.

“Greetings, friend.” The snake replied.

“I am so sorry that this is what became of
you. I hope you can forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Root
Karbunkulus. You gave me many months of freedom and more, a union
and a hatchling. I could never be more grateful.”

Root felt a shiver try to make its way
underneath the skin of her back. She smiled inside. A shiver, in
this tomb. Imagine that.

A tremor rose up from the earth. The sky
seemed to greet it in magnetic waves. Root could hear something,
whispers and rustling of thought. She felt like she was
eavesdropping on gods, too far away to hear actual words, but close
enough to sense enormous power. The power that creates life.

When the sky folded back and the earth buried
its tongue once more, the Glawering raised their deep, haunting
voices. “Root Karbunkulus. In this we shall release you.”

“No!” she cried. “ I offered Lian, not me.
He’s the one who can help you. I don’t know anything about…”

There was a deep, vibrating hum again. Root
felt warmth spread from the crown of her head, down her back and
along the length of her legs and with this a slow softening of her
copper shell as it slowly slid away.

When the last of the amber drooled from
Lian’s ankles, he looked around with blinking, startled eyes. Root
was standing in front of him, goopy and gunked with, of all things,
a smile on her face.

She gave him no time for savoring relief or
even asking questions before thrusting him into his duty. A duty
way, way, way beyond his ability. He couldn’t imagine what she had
told the Glawering but whatever it was was surely overkill, if not
flat out lying. He had heard Root talking about him before, words
like ‘amazing Natruid’ and ‘the best’ and, sure he could’ve
corrected her but c’mon, who wouldn’t like to be praised like that?
Besides, it was to kids who didn’t know any better; who wouldn’t
ask him to prove it. Not nasty black tree spirits.