Chapter 21
Bluebell Wood
Elora landed hard. The momentum carrying her forwards onto her knees, hands pressing down into a cold earth. It took a moment to adjust to the darkness, the rich aroma of wild flowers and wet grass reaching her nose as her fingers curled about fine stems of an unfamiliar plant. She plucked a handful of them from the earth as she rose to her feet and brought them closer to her face – bluebells.
She was in a forest of extremely tall trees with dark bark. Fireflies with a soft green glow buzzed about the canopy and weaved between branches, giving the area a magical feel whilst stars twinkled through the gaps above, adding to the atmosphere. The forest floor was covered in a blanket of bluebells that swayed to a gentle breeze, appearing like the waves on a soft ocean, so thick she couldn’t see below the pretty flowers to the ground beneath. An owl hooted, further out in the forest, hidden in the darkness; where frogs creaked to a rhythm accompanying the sway of the flowers and in the distance, she thought she heard the snatches of a piccolo playing a haunting tune.
The group stood in a rough circle facing out, swords drawn and looking fierce, except from Otholo who was busy singing to a firefly that lazily floated in front of his beaming face.
Diagus suddenly appeared through a large hole in the tree behind her, emerging through the blackness like stepping through a dark curtain. The white frosted runes that surrounded the opening fizzled bright for a second before fading into the tree bark. The gate vanished with the runes, leaving a man-sized hole in the tree.
When they were satisfied there was no threat, they slid their swords away. Ragna scratching his beard as he rested the shaft of his hammer on the ground and leaned his heavy arms over the steel head. Ejan weaved an arm through one of his and rested against his shoulder.
Bray smiled, his eyes catching the glow of a passing firefly and lighting his face. “Welcome to Thea,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her into a hug. “Are you cold?” he asked, rubbing her bare arms.
“No,” replied Elora, seeing that goose bumps had risen on her skin but that was due to the sudden fresh night air she was breathing, a world of difference to the dusty arid climate of the Shadowlands. The wave of excitement at experiencing this new place only adding to her nerves. “I can’t believe we’re here, on a different world.”
“Believe it Elora,” said her uncle, smiling from ear to ear. “This is where you were born. Where magic can happen.”
“Where the fairies live?” she asked, her smile matching Nat’s.
“Where we’ve got a bloody job to do,” snapped Diagus, the only one of the group whose face was grim. “And we’re putting this bluebell wood behind us before we make camp.”
“But the place is so peaceful, so beautiful,” said Elora, trying to soak up as much of her surroundings as possible.
Diagus snorted his disdain, then marched off between trees, swatting the glowing bugs away from his stern face as he went.
Ragna shrugged his huge shoulders, hefted his hammer around the back of his neck and rested his arms on the shaft, hands dangling. “Can’t sleep in a bluebell wood anyway,” he said, then followed the Shadojak.
“Or other activities that involve laying above the flowers,” laughed Ejan, slapping her husband on the backside. Otholo chuckled as he sauntered after, striking up a soft melody on his lute.
“What’s wrong with the woods?” asked Elora as Bray slipped an arm over her shoulder and began to lead her in the direction of the others.
“Even on Earth there is a myth about bluebell woods,” offered her uncle. “People go missing, children disappear and sometimes are replaced by strange creatures. There’s a kind of fairy magic about them; a mysterious force, playful to them but upsetting if somebody is lost. And it is said that if you were to fall asleep upon the bluebells, you will wake up in a different part of the forest.”
“But that’s not true, is it?”
“Not on Earth, no. Not yet anyway. But on Thea, there is always some truth about myths. Diagus is right to lead us away.”
Elora glanced around the blue forest floor as they followed the others, hoping to catch a peek at the fairies or pixies, but if they were there they eluded her. The only other creature she witnessed in the enchanted woods was a badger that regarded her with its beady black eyes before scurrying down a hole.
Further along she heard the piccolo again, this time playing a waltzing march in time to her footfalls. Otholo fretted a tune to the same beat, the two instruments accompanying each other and Ragna began to hum.
“Who’s playing the piccolo?” Elora asked.
“It’s not a piccolo. It’s a wood knoll,” answered Bray, “Each tree has one. Little creatures born out of hardened sap to protect the trees from unwanted fairies. They’re singing to each other now, warning themselves that men roam the woods.”
He unclipped something from his ear, she hadn’t notice he was wearing and passed it to her. It was a small silver disc, no bigger than a five pence coin, with a hole at its centre. Attached to one edge by a silver chain was a cylindrical clasp.
“Here,” he said, gently clipping it to the top of her ear so the disc rested above the lobe. “It’s a tinker’s tongue charm. It changes the language that’s been spoken as it hits the disc, so you can understand what’s being said. Tinkers use them when travelling through different countries. Merchants too. Listen.”
Elora listened as the piccolo sounds faded to a single buzzing tone, then a broken monologue; the buzz becoming the groans and creaks of wood. Then they themselves became recognisable words.
“Danger - men in the wood. Warning - Men in the wood. Flames that devour, steel that cuts. Danger - men in the wood.”
“This is amazing,” said Elora, touching the tinker’s tongue charm with her finger. The wood knoll voices buzzed until she withdrew it.
“It’s yours,” said Bray, kissing her softly on the cheek. “You’re going to need it more than I do. Nobody on Thea speaks English.”
Elora kissed him back. “Thank you, it’s amazing. But how does it even work?”
“It’s charmed. A spell was cast, then the spell was bonded to the disc. It takes two wizards, a caster and a binder to make an object charmed. I don’t know how or why, that’s for the wizards to know. But it works and now it’s yours.”
“I love it,” she said, wanting to jump up and down on the spot. “I love you.”
Bray grinned, taking her hand and leading her on once again. “Love you too.”
They trudged for what felt like an hour before emerging from the bluebell wood and entered a clearing with a shallow stream running down one edge. It’s waters sparkling silver in the moonlight as it gurgled over worn stones and rocks. Diagus ordered a halt for the night.
“I’ll take first watch,” offered Bray, taking his bread to a large rock by the tree line.
“Do you want company?” asked Elora, rising from the fallen log she sat upon.
Bray shook his head. “You need to sleep; we’ve got a long walk tomorrow.”
“I’m not tired,” she said, stifling a yawn.
“Get what sleep you can, Elora. We’ll be moving off at sunrise and you don’t want to miss the sun rising on Thea. It’s the second most beautiful sight a man can behold.”
