Being a Green Mother (3 page)

“Daddy …” she pleaded one day.

“Maybe the hamadryad can help you,” Pace said.

“The what?”

“She taught the Magician his first magic,” he explained. “She’s a tree-nymph, like a sprite for a tree, and she befriended the Magician when he was a baby. We used to take him there to visit her for an afternoon, when he lived with us. They seldom deal much with our kind, but Luna’s the Magician’s daughter, and you are very like her, so maybe she will meet you. I know your mother will be glad to take you there, just for a visit.”

“Oh goody!” Orb exclaimed, hugging him.

So they went for a day to the cabin near the swamp that they maintained as a vacation house. Niobe made sure that both girls were wearing their polished moonstone amulets, for the Magician had given them these for protection, and there could be dangers in the swamp.

The swamp was impressive. The trees expanded their bases near the water as if to embrace as much of it as possible, and magic surrounded them. Luna kept exclaiming as she saw the interactions of their auras, and Orb as she heard their separate yet interactive melodies. Niobe evidently perceived neither, but realized that the girls were not teasing her.

They came to the giant water oak. “Hamadryad!” Niobe called. “Do you remember me? You trained my son, the Magician.”

The dryad appeared, perched on a stout lateral branch. She smiled cautiously; she remembered.

At that moment Orb suffered a recurrence of her vision-dream. She was walking down the aisle with the strange man, and the globe was turning, dead. Who was the man, and what had happened to the world, and how did she get involved with either? She tried to turn her head to see the man and managed a little, catching a fleeting glimpse of his profile. He was no one she knew now. And the world—she was responsible, in some fashion. She knew, and was horrified.

“I have brought the Magician’s daughter—and mine,” Niobe said, jolting Orb out of her vision. “Will you meet with them?”

The dryad peered down at the two girls. Luna and Orb, coached on this, smiled like twin moons.

The hamadryad nodded. She would meet.

“I will return in two hours,” Niobe said.

Orb turned on her in alarm. “You are leaving us here?”

“The dryad will not approach an adult,” Niobe explained. “Only a child. But you are safe here; she will not harm you, or let you harm yourselves, if you do what she says.”

Uncertainly, the girls watched Niobe retreat. They knew she would not put them in any danger; she was extremely fussy about that sort of thing, and her definitions of risk could be pretty annoying. Such as eating too much candy, or playing in deep mud. Still, the swamp seemed awfully big and dank.

When Niobe was gone, the hamadryad came down the tree. She did not exactly climb down, she walked down. It was as if her feet were glued to the trunk, allowing her to walk at a right angle to it. That was impressive.

In a moment the dryad stood before them. She was no taller than they were, but was more finely proportioned, more like the sprites. Her hair was green and leafy, and her body, though unclothed, had ridges resembling bark. She was pretty in the way a tree was pretty, and in the way of a woman, too.

“Hello,” the dryad said tentatively, as if not expecting any favorable response. She was poised for instant retreat.

“Hello,” Orb responded.

The hamadryad responded with a smile so brilliant it was like a shaft of sunlight reaching down to touch her. “You
are
his child!” she exclaimed.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” Orb said. “That’s Luna. I’m Niobe’s child.”

“What?” Luna asked, perplexed.

“She got us confused, that’s all,” Orb said.

“How do you know?” Luna asked.

“You heard her! She called me the Magician’s child.”

“But she didn’t say anything!” Luna protested.

“What?” Orb asked, in her turn.

“She did not hear me,” the hamadryad said sadly.

Orb turned to Luna. “You didn’t hear her?”

“Hear what? She only moved her mouth.”

Now Orb realized. “It’s like the music! I can hear it and you can’t.”

“Well, you can’t see the auras, smarty!” Luna retorted.

“She sees auras?” the hamadryad asked.

“Oh, sure,” Orb said. “I hear things, she sees things. Mommy can’t do either. But Daddy can hear the music, so he said we should come see you.”

“Who is your father?” the hamadryad asked.

“He’s Pacian Kaftan. He makes magic music.”

“Yes. So did Cedric, his cousin. The first time I heard it, I almost fell out of my Tree!”

Orb pictured the dryad falling out of the tree and she started to laugh. The dryad laughed, too.

“What’s so funny?” Luna demanded.

Orb realized that she would have to translate, or there would be trouble. Usually she was the one who got mad and threw a fit, but Luna could do it, too, when she tried. “She says when she heard Grandpa Cedric’s magic music, she almost fell out of the tree!”

Luna giggled. That
was
funny!

“But then he died,” the hamadryad said. “It was so sad. The Magician was right here with me, just a baby then.”

“A baby?” Luna asked when Orb translated. “My father?”

“Yes. He could hear the music and see the auras, but he couldn’t make them. But he was very smart and he wanted to learn, so I taught him the natural magic.”

“Can you teach us?” Orb asked. “Daddy can make such wonderful music, and he says maybe I can, but I can’t!”

“Come into my Tree,” the hamadryad said. “Perhaps I can teach you.”

“Oooo, goody!” Orb cried, clapping her hands.

They scrambled up into the spreading branches of the tree, unable to walk the trunk in the manner of the hamadryad. Orb scraped a knee a little, but she was used to that.

Above, the leaf foliage closed in about them, forming a pleasant bower. The branches twisted this way and that and had knots and boles that were like chairs, and they sat on these. Speckles of sunlight came through, making it pretty.

“Ooo,” Luna exclaimed. “The aura brightens where the sun strikes!”

“That’s because the light is the life of my Tree,” the hamadryad said. “Light and water and soil and air—four mundane elements.”

Luna’s brow furrowed as Orb translated. “I thought there were five elements.”

“Yes. We call the important one spirit, or magic.”

“That’s why my father studied magic!” Luna exclaimed. “ ’Cause you told him that!”

“Yes. He wanted to help the natural things, as Cedric did. We dryads are magic, but we don’t have much power over unnatural things, so I thought maybe if he learned …”

“I guess he’s still learning,” Luna said. “He and Mommy spend all their time with it.”

“Let’s see what we can do with your own magic,” the hamadryad said, diverting the subject to safer territory. Orb was still relaying her words to Luna, who could not hear them. “Can you do this?” She made a gesture in the air with her right hand.

Luna stared at the space defined by the gesture, though Orb saw nothing. “Ooo, lovely!” she exclaimed.

“Try it yourself,” the dryad said.

Luna made a similar gesture. “It’s not working,” she said, pouting.

“But the hand is only part of it! You must emote, too.”

“What?”

“You must
feel
! Become one with the natural aura, shape it to your desire. Try it again.”

Luna concentrated, gesturing again. Orb saw nothing, but the hamadryad smiled. “See? There’s a little!”

Luna had scrunched up her eyes in her concentration. Now she looked. “Ooo, uck!” she exclaimed with distaste.

“But it’s aura!” the dryad insisted. “You did it!”

Luna considered, as Orb relayed this endorsement. The truth was, Orb was tiring of this exchange. “I guess I did.”

“But you must practice,” the dryad cautioned her. “Art is not mastered in a day. It takes years to be good.”

“Years!” Luna exclaimed impatiently. “I want to do it now!”

“Most people can’t do it at all,” the dryad reminded her. “But you, when you learn, will be able to read the auras of people and to know whether they are good or evil, because you will know the types of auras. A person may tell you a lie with a straight face, but his aura can never deceive you. That was why I knew the Magician was good, even when he was a baby, and that he had greatness in him, though there was a dark side. Because of his magnificent aura.”

“Dark side?” Luna asked when all this reached her.

“He was good, but he had the capacity to relate to evil. Sometimes I still fear for him. If Satan turned him to evil—”

“Satan?” This was Orb’s query.

“Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that,” the dryad said. “Satan isn’t nice.”

Orb was bored with these proceedings, as they did not involve her, and words like “capacity” strained her resources. “What about
my
magic?” she asked.

The dryad turned to her. “Oh, you have been so helpful, Orb, I didn’t realize I was neglecting you. Yes, we must see about your own magic. Tell your sister to practice her aura-painting while I work with you.”

Orb, pleased with the compliment and the attention, decided not to quibble about the hamadryad’s error. Luna was her niece, not her sister. She relayed the word, and Luna was satisfied to face away and make her gestures of nothing.

“Do you sing?” the dryad asked Orb.

“Yes, but not the way Daddy does.”

“You, too, must emote. You must put your feeling into it. Magic involves the whole of a person’s desire. That may be why most people don’t have magic; they don’t really
want
it. Not as part of them.”

“But Mommy doesn’t have magic!” Orb protested, thinking that refuted the statement.

“Niobe had more magic than anyone, and gave it up to marry your father,” the hamadryad said. “Now try to emote.”

Orb concentrated as she hummed a tune, but nothing happened. “It’s not working!” she said, aggrieved. “Why should it work for Luna and not for me?”

Before the dryad could answer, there was music from below. All three of them turned to look, peering down below the tree.

The music was approaching down the path, getting louder. It was a violin playing, and the man playing it was dressed in a bright, light blouse and dark trousers. He had glossy long hair falling across his shoulders and piercing black eyes. Beside him danced a woman in a glaringly red skirt and green kerchief about her hair, and no shirt at all. There were many rings on her fingers and long earrings dangling by her bare breasts, so that she flashed constantly as she moved.

Behind them came others, similarly garbed. Some played mandolins and some played instruments that Orb could not define at all, and all were dancing in their way. They came to the foot of the tree and drew up in a circle about it. There were perhaps a dozen of them, including a number of children.

An old woman stepped forward. “There!” she said, pointing directly at Orb and Luna. “Two magic children!”

“Gypsies!” the hamadryad exclaimed. “I have heard of them. Beware—they steal children!”

The man who had played the violin stepped up. “The seer knows,” he said. “Come down from there, Children. We wish to see your magic.”

“Go away, you ruffians!” the dryad cried. “These children are not for you!”

“Oho!” the man said. “A tree-nymph! Well, this is not your business, oak-spirit. All we want are the children.”

“You can’t have them,” the dryad said.

“Be quiet, dryad, or we’ll chop down your tree,” the man threatened. The hamadryad made a little squeal of outrage and pain, appalled by the threat.

“How come
he
can hear her when
I
can’t?” Luna asked somewhat querulously.

“Get up there and bring them down,” the man said. Immediately two husky young men ran up and scrambled up the tree. In moments they were in the branches and reaching for the girls, who were frozen in shock.

But as the hands of the men reached for Orb and Luna,
and touched them, both men froze. Their hands never closed; they merely remained touching.

“Get on with it,” the man called from below. “We don’t want to tarry long here.”

“We can’t,” one of the young men gasped, not moving.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” the leader demanded. “They’re only children!”

“They’ve got amulets,” the other said.

“Oho! I should have known that children as valuable as this would be protected. Well, there are other ways. Drop back down.”

The two young men did that literally, dropping from the big branches to the ground and landing lithely.

The leader smiled up at the girls. “We are the Raggle-Taggle Gypsies,” he announced. “We like children and we have wonderful times. Magic children have a fine life with us—the best of all. Come and join us.”

But Orb and Luna, heeding the hamadryad’s warning, balked. They simply stared down, unmoving.

“We’ll show you!” the Gypsy said. He snapped his fingers. Immediately the others brought out the instruments and resumed their music. The women danced, and the children cavorted acrobatically.

“Ooo, that does look like fun,” Luna said.

The music intensified, and now Orb heard a suggestion of the magic melodies of nature. The Gypsies knew that music!

“Don’t go!” the hamadryad cried. But in vain; the two girls, fascinated by the fun the Gypsies were having, just had to go down and join it. In a moment they were on the ground. The Gypsy children took their hands and formed a circle, and they danced, kicking out their legs with sheer abandon.

After a bit, the music stilled. “It’s not exactly the Llano,” the Gypsie leader said. “But we do enjoy it. It’s yours, if you join us.”

At the sound of the word “Llano” Orb’s pulse did a minor leap. Something about that word thrilled her. A suggestion of her dream-vision flashed by the backs of her eyes.

“We can’t join them!” Luna protested in a sharp whisper. “Your mother would be furious!”

But Orb was distracted by the word. “The ’Yano—” she started, unable to pronounce it the way the Gypsy had.

“Oh, the Llano!” he exclaimed. “You have rare taste in
music, child! But no one possesses the Llano, though many seek it. We Gypsies come as close to it as any, but all we ever capture is some trifling fragment. Come with us, child, and we shall search for the Llano together! Our seer says one of you can see auras, and the other can hear the songs of nature. With your help, perhaps we can find the ultimate song!”