Chapter 22: Voices in the Wood

The Shar were not a quiet people I discovered, only shy and light sensitive. One of the adaptations given me by my transformation from the boy Speck Hellerin into the Fenrim Winter Hellerin, was excellent night and low light vision. Weaver explained part of it as being an 'extension into the infrared and ultraviolet bands of the spectrum', whatever that meant. I enjoyed the new aspect of myself with much less clinical detachment and wizardly mumbo jumbo.

What I could see was more important than what I understood in this case. The lights of SharHom were a pretty purple-lavender that spread from clusters and strips of crystal embedded in the walls, ceilings and floors of their underground world.

We stopped at one point to let a glowing crystalline creature that Slate called a Crysophage move past us at a cross-tunnel. The Crysophage moved slowly, its clear, glowing crystal body moved in an oddly still and static fashion that reminded me of watching cattle lit by lightning. You knew they were moving but you only saw them in brief illuminated bits and pieces. The creature paused for a moment and the room was suddenly filled with what sounded like someone running through a pile of fallen oak leaves. Slate raised a hand and I followed suit.

"The Crysophage wishes you well on your journey," Slate said.

"It knows why I am here?" I asked.

"The Shar are each of two minds," Slate said to me in reply. "Each Shar has its own mind, this is the mind of identity and emotion. Each Shar also shares the SharMind, the group mind. This is the mind of calculation and logic. The SharMind watches over us all, and in it we share our knowledge and awareness."

"To speak to a Shar then is to speak to all?"

"Yes, even those who cannot hear the spoken word will know your words because another Shar has heard them."

It was not just the Crysophage's crackling words. The deep tunnels of SharHom were alive with sounds. Sounds that ran through the tunnels and sounds that came through the rocks. From deep thrumming to high pitched clicks and every kind of noise in between. I listened and marveled as Slate led me through the maze of tunnels moving further and further down into the depths of the mountains until we reached a huge cavern with a lake of cold, black water in the middle of it.

"Here is where you must trust me," The Shar emissary said, with his typical deadpan expression. From the little hints here and there, Weaver suspected that perhaps Slate had been dead once, kept in storage like a tool that the Shar could pull out and use as needed. Perhaps there was no Slate left inside this flesh and in its place was only the SharMind. That thought made sudden sense to me, and I shivered.

We came at last to stand on a little spit of rock that rose a few feet above the otherwise flat rim of the Black lake. Slate waved his hand, and for a brief moment the black water pulsed a deep, deep blue.

"You must jump into the water. Do not close your eyes and be prepared," Slate said. I must've had a questioning look. "You must trust me," he said again.

I jumped.

Moss came to the pool because the Rock Mote had told her she needed to be there on this day, at this time. It had told her this when she was only five, and she had kept this knowledge buried in her secret mind where she kept her other private thoughts.

She came back to the pool many times in the ten years that had passed since then, sometimes alone, sometimes with others. Each time she came she learned a new trick or interesting bit of information from the Rock Mote. It had been the one to teach her the trick of touching minds. A great caution had come with the trick. A caution to never touch another mind unless there was urgent need to. The Rock Mote had taught her how to pick up rocks with her mind and toss them, faster even than an arrow, almost as fast as lightning strikes. She had used this to tease her Tree mates, but never in anger, and never to do damage. As she grew older she found it wasn't fun to tease them like this if she couldn't show them the trick, so she stopped.

It was a good trick though, and she was a mighty hunter for her Tree. Bringing down the delicious, plump Blacknecks that roosted high in the upper canopy was easy. She always had a pouch full of smooth hard river pebbles, and her sling of course, for appearance sake, to go along with her small bow. She was able to nab the occasional Musk Runner or Gully Hog as well with the small bow along as excuse, but she had to leave the larger ones for now. When she got her longbow she would at last be able to claim the larger game animals if she wanted. The Rock Mote had been reminding her of her appointment on this day every couple of years. Every time she learned a new trick he mentioned it as well. Today the day had finally come.

Her mother and father had given her permission to come to the pool today, even though she was old enough to decide for herself where she went in the Heartwood. She was just coming to the age when she would either find Transition, or remain one of the people of the Trees. Either way she could then begin considering a mate, and that would mean leaving her parents to make her own way in the Imhur. It would mean taking the first steps towards beginning a family of her own. It would be another few months before that would normally happen, though some did achieve it at her age.

Finding Transition early was considered a sign that the Spirits had something planned for you. It happened too rarely for Moss to worry about, but that was probably why her parents were being so much more protective right now.

On this special day Moss had left early and gone hunting. It was still no trivial task to kill a Blackneck. They kept to the high canopy, and the Tree people were not adapted to tree climbing like the Little Men. This kind of hunting favored the smaller stature of the women, especially the young unmarried women like Moss, though she was already taller than most full grown woman of the Tree People. She had always been taller than any of the other girls. Yet another of the differences that marked her as one apart in the eyes of her people.

It was her strength, agility and mind that made her a success in the high canopy. She had sewn cured leaves from the BloodKnot to the inside of her leggings, and wore gloves with the leaves sewn into the palms. The BloodKnot was a carnivorous plant that clung to the base of the great trees that rested in bog water. Their inner leaves had millions of sharp points, harder even than stone, that pointed in towards the sticky pool at their base. The plants trapped insects and small animals and slowly digested them. With the leaves on her gloves and leggings, Moss could cling to the great trees with little effort, and in the higher canopy she could climb much faster than anyone else. Well, not faster than the Little Men, but faster than any other of the People. The Little Men were not her competition for the birds anyway. The Little Men did not eat meat, but only the fruit and flowers of the light upper canopy, but if they had wanted to, the furry brothers could have caught far more Blacknecks than she could, and they would have been able to do it with only their bare hands.

The cool quiet of the pool had her lost in her own thoughts again she realized. The Rock Mote had not appeared to interrupt them and she had drifted off. She looked around, casting her senses out like the Mote had taught her. The pool was deserted, even the usual animal life that she would normally find nearby were absent. That was suspicious! It had just made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up when suddenly she felt something that made her glance at the pool just in time to see a shape come splashing up out of the water, flying ten feet into the air before seeming to pause in midair before falling back into the water. Long, muscular arms and legs flailed and a voice that started deep but ended in a surprised high pitched 'uh!' were followed by another loud splash as the body hit the water again. It came up sputtering and began paddling towards the edge of the pool.

It was a man! Or maybe a boy close to her age, Moss thought. Tall though, and muscular. Probably transitioned. Still mostly boy she thought.

"hello there," she said from her perch on the huge runner trunk she sat on above the pool. The boy turned towards her.

"Are you my guide?" He asked in his deep/not deep rumbling voice. "Were you sent to meet me here?"

"I do not know that for sure," Moss answered. "I only know that I have been told to be here on this day at this time."

"Who asked you then to be here today? Perhaps I should be speaking to him. My name is Winter Hellerin, by the way. What is yours?"

"I am Moss Grayleaf. Well met Winter," I answered. Truly he did seem like Winter, for when I felt his eyes on me I found myself shivering. "The Rock Mote is more of an it than a he. You don't really see him, you just know he's there."

"And is it here now?"

"It would seem not," I answered. "Now that we are introduced, is it safe for me to come down off my runner trunk here and join you? I am getting dizzy and restless just sitting here staring down at you."

"Of course," he said. I took off my leggings and gloves and tossed them to the bank below. The BloodKnot leaves were cured, but would not survive a good dunking.

"Catch!" I said, throwing him the four Blacknecks I had tied together on my belt. He caught them casually. I followed that with my small bow and the short arrows that I used when hunting in the high canopy. It looked like a toy compared to a normal bow, but it was a lot easier to carry and use when clinging to branch and limb in the upper forest.

I rose up from where I had been crouching and tried to execute as graceful a dive into the pool as I knew how to. I had been making this dive since I was five, now would not be the time for finding a new flaw in my technique. I came out of the water away from him and shook myself off before retrieving my leggings and gloves and walking over and smiling up at him. He had to be close to a full head and a half taller than I was.

"Hello again," I said holding out my hand. He took it, smiling down at me. He forgot to shake it for a moment, and I shivered again.

"If I was home, I might ask you to join me for midday meal at the nearest inn or tavern, but since I am not home and you are, I will defer to you."

"Since you're deferring to me, I say we take these four fine specimens of feathered tastiness home and you have lunch with me and my parents. We will be early for it and will have time to visit before we eat."

"Lead on, Lady of the Wood," he said, smiling again and bowing while making a sweeping gesture that suggested I move on past him. I shivered again!

I heard him moving through the undergrowth behind me, not quite as quiet as one of the People would be in the forest, but close. In any case, we were in the Heartwood. We were as safe as any of the People could be walking within the Imhur. We were within a few minutes of the nearest stair tree when I suddeny remembered. I stopped and wiped sweat from my brow, shivering again.

"Winter, are you Transitioned? Are you Fenrim?" I asked.

"Yes." Came his quick answer.

"We cannot go to my parent's then. It is in the Mid-tree of the Heartwood and the Fenrim do not go there, just as the Tree People do not go to Spire Rock.

I shivered again and then things truly hit me. I had thought the shivering was a maidenly lusting, my first, but it was not! I glanced at Winter again and reconsidered. It was not just that. I was beginning to Transition!

"We need to get back to the pool!" I said without explanation, and began running back the way we had come. It was no great distance and we were there in minutes.

"Do you remember your Transformation?" I asked Winter. "The symptoms you first felt?"

"Yes, I was restless and sweaty and shivering at the same time."

"I have been feeling the same way since you came up out of the pool, and foolish girl that I am I dismissed it as reacting to your, ah masculinity." I said with some embarrassment.

"I will confess to having had my own reactions to you," Winter said, flashing that smile again. "Especially when you shook the water off after coming up out of the pool."

I smiled back. What a time for Transition!

"Listen, I don't think we have much time, and since you came through the Forest Gate, I can only assume you are not of the Imhur. I am of the Tree People. When two of the Fenrim mate, their offspring is born as one of the People. When one of the Tree People gives birth, that offspring is also born as one of the People. Within the sixteenth year of that child's birth they will either undergo Transformation, or they will not. Of all the offspring of the Tree People and the Fenrim, only a quarter will become Fenrim, the rest will remain Tree People. Because of this, the Fenrim choose to let their children be raised with ours here in the Heartwood. The Tree People and the Fenrim, who are really one people if you look at it objectively, have made treaty with each other. The Heartwood is the domain of the Tree People and everything outside of it is the domain of the Fenrim. Does this make sense so far?"

"I'm not sure if I believe it makes sense, but I think I understand it."

"Part of the Heartwood treaty establishes a place where the Fenrim may come to bring their young, and where the newly Transitioned may go to meet the Fenrim and join them. As Fenrim, you are technically violating the treaty, being here in the Heartwood with me now. But being from outside the Imhur, you would normally be given exception until you could join the Fenrim and be given guidance. I almost led you into a terrible situation, and all I can do is blame this onset of Transition for keeping me from thinking straight."

"I remember my Transition as being nothing but chaos. So far you are handling the beginning of it better than I did."

"You did not have the benefits of having been raised with all this information," I said. I found a safe, dry place and stuffed my pouch and my leggings and gloves inside of it. I hung my bow and quiver on a dry inner branch nearby.

"I am getting close myself here. I can feel it. I have to take my hunting leathers off now, or they will be ripped to shreds at the change. I would rather have something to wear when things are done. I"m sorry if it embarrasses you."

I began to strip off my leathers. My nipples were knotted up and I felt heated, and none of that had anything to do with Transition. I was naked in front of the first interesting male I'd ever met!

"I will go wild, and you must bring me back!" Were my last words as one of the Tree People.

Imagine finding the most desirable women in the world, finding her charming and bright as well. Imagine her stripping naked in front of you. Then imagine her falling to the ground in front of you, screaming and writhing in pain!

I had not expected my adventures in the Imhur to begin in such an odd way, but here I was, and here she was. Her figure began to blur and change as she shifted for the first time into her Fenrim form. Again she screamed in pain as a wave of Transformation caught her. I quickly found a low hanging limb to hang the brace of Blacknecks she had tossed to me, and which I was still carrying. Unencumbered, I shifted myself.

In Fenrim form it was much easier to see the swirling heat and energy that swirled around her. It was no Wizard's Sight. I wasn't seeing Magic, as Weaver might, but I was seeing the heat and energy involved in the changes happening within Moss' flesh and bone.

Moss no longer, the Fenrim female in front of me rolled into a crouch suddenly and sprang away from the pool at a dead run. In her wildness she ran wherever the trees and the ground gave her room to. I remembered her concern at the treaty and the provision that made my presence a violation. She didn't have a chance to tell me what provisions were made for those in Transition, so I chose to err on the side of caution and forced her away from our earlier direction of travel. I had no idea if I was driving her away from the Heartwood as she called it, or further into it!

Her wildness expressed itself as fear at first, and she fled me, running and climbing, leaping and swinging through the thick undergrowth. I kept her pace enough to steer her course, and hopefully keep the fear to a minimum. I do not know how far we ran within the Great Wood before the fear turned to anger and aggression. Her claws came out then, and she turned on me with a snarl.

Perhaps I would tease her some day, far down time's road, about our first dance. The heat and excitement of it were not related to the very real attraction that had existed at first sight. Instead it was the wild killing lust of madness. It was anger and anguish I danced with. Screams and snarls were the music and Blood and sinew were the instruments they were played on.

The anger in her faded just as quickly as it came, replaced by fear and confusion. She leapt into a nearby tree limb and began to run up it, claws extended. I leapt to follow, and the chase was on again.

The widely spaced tree trunks at the ground level of the Imhur did nothing to suggest how closely grown they became as they went up into the sky. The spreading limbs started long before they began to show leaves and blend into the canopy that covered the ground below so completely. This young girl knew these heights though, and the Fenrim she had become was making full use of that knowledge, even in the madness of Transition.

She ran me through nests of insects and aggressive plant traps and carnivorous bird colonies. Sprinkled in between were long leaps from limb to limb and mad dashes up and down vines and trunks and limbs, large and small. When she had me almost used to the upper heights and the almost too small to navigate branches and limbs of the high canopy, she ran us down again into the darkness of the lower depths, abandoning the trees entirely again and dropping us into the dripping muck and mist of a swampy stretch of hidden forest floor.

We had been running, hunter and prey for several hours, and I think she would have been happy to run for hours more, but we hit a mound of rock and sand that rose steeply in front of us and she began to scramble up it with me close behind. I was only a few feet behind her as we crested the rise and the light and glare that met us froze her in place for just a moment.

Behind her, and in position at last, I ignored my surroundings and took my moment. I leapt, and caught her from behind, wrapping my arms tightly around her, pinning her arms to her sides. I wrapped my legs around hers and we went crashing to the ground.

"Moss! Calm down!" I said, trying to sound reassuring. My calling to her roused another wave of anger and frustration. We rolled across the soft earth, and while we did I suddenly heard Weaver's voice, as I had the day of my Transition. He had found my thoughts and heard them denying my name. Speck. My old name!