"We will rouse the others soon," said Thanar. "Let them know this miracle. The Tree Ghosts do not keep it jealously—indeed, they wish all light souls could experience this place—but they are very protective. I only hope Keirkrad will think wisely and keep his dogma in check."
But Keirkrad's face was crossed with a look of naked awe, just like the rest of the group. Vell's eyes settled on Kellin and he was astonished at what he saw. In a state of glorious languor, her bright eyes open and staring at the world, he beheld her clearly as a creature of wonder. She controlled magic; it flowed into her and out, and now he saw her as magic itself, shimmering and glowing with all of its forbidden wonder and power.
What an effect this place had, Vell thought. It banished all that was inconsequential and brought into sharp focus what mattered most. The fog on his brain had floated away; he desperately wished it would never return.
"Vell," said Thanar. "Meet Rask Urgek, of the Tree Ghosts." Vell almost gasped to see the massive barbarian approaching him, wearing a glistening chain shirt. With large ears, orange-tinged skin, traces of fangs, and wiry hair pulled up into a topknot, Rask Urgek was clearly a half-orc. The North crawled with such hybrids, most of who served as mercenaries. They were regarded as the scum of the civilized world and as pariahs within orc tribes; few were allowed to join Uthgardt tribes. No trace of orcish anger appeared on Rask's features. Instead, he showed the warmth and peace of years spent in the company of this extraordinary tree.
"Vell the Brown," Rask said. "Walk with me. Your friends will be safe with Thanar watching over them."
Rask and Vell walked together, leaves crunching beneath their feet.
"Thank you for allowing us to come here," said Vell. He looked up and raised his palms, offering a simple gesture against the immensity of their setting. "I don't know what words could describe my feelings about this place."
"We Tree Ghosts spent many decades searching for this tree," said Rask. "It was the tribe's solitary purpose and drive. When I joined the search, I had a nagging fear that we would find it and it would be a disappointment. How happy I was that it was not so. Our village lies some distance from the tree now. We would not tolerate habitation under the tree's branches, as you would not on Morgur's Mound. Now that we found what was missing, it has not removed our drive but only sharpened it: Grandfather Tree must be kept safe."
"Perhaps that was missing from our tribe," said Vell. "Drive, purpose."
"You have it now, do you not?" asked Rask. "Thanar told me of your mission. We shall help however we can, for your quest mirrors our own. Like you, a hated enemy dogged our steps and meant to reach the tree before us. Look here..." He brushed some leaves off a rotten log and uncovered an ancient carving, to Vell a familiar and ominous one—the hulking, destructive Blue Bear.
"Sometime soon, this last trace of human habitation will finally rot away," said Rask. "It is the same with the rest of the world. Stone may outlast wood, but none of our stone menhirs or any of civilization's works will outlive Grandfather Tree."
"We don't know where we're bound," said Vell, impatient with this philosophizing. "Nor do we know why the beast sent us, or for what purpose it's empowered me. And our enemy..."
"Your enemy is the Zhentarim," said Rask. "I know them better than I'd care to. My parents were caravan guards on their Black Road, and I made that trip a few times myself. I would wager anything that Mayor Geildarr of Llorkh is part of this. The past is a fascination for him, and robbing it is his favorite hobby. Perhaps he has your chief as well."
"I am not the leader of this expedition," said Vell. "You should tell Thluna."
"We have," Rask told him. "But you are of special interest, Vell." Vell reflected that before Morgur's Mound, no one would have regarded him that way. "Your situation is most peculiar. The nature of your destiny is in question. It requires clarification."
"I agree," said Vell.
"There is magic in this forest that may help you. Nearby, atop one of the mountains that outsiders call the Lost Peaks, lie the Fountains of Memory. It may hold answers. With the Dancing Folks' permission, I think you should visit it and see."
"And Kellin as well," Vell added. "She and I were both chosen by the Thunderbeast. We should go together."
"Kellin, yes." Rask paused a moment. "You've put yourself between her and your chief in the past. It's created tension among your group. Was that what you wanted?"
"No." Vell lowered his head. "Some fear our tribe is being ripped asunder. I want it to stay unified as much as the rest. But Kellin..."
"What is she to you?" Rask's tone was vaguely confrontational. "A potential lover? Your lost twin? Like her father, she has made a study of our tribes and wants us to feel flattered to be the subject of civilized sagecraft. Tell me, Vell. What if we were to keep her unconscious? She would not be harmed and would be returned to your party once you left the tree."
"No," Vell said without hesitation. "You can trust her."
"Can we?" asked Rask, grim-faced. "She will write of our people if she lives to do so. Will she perhaps threaten our greatest secret: our location?"
"She will not," said Vell. Rask inspected him, then an improbable smile broke out on his tusked features. Vell instantly knew this had nothing to do with Kellin, but was a test for him.
"Come my friend," the half-orc said. "Let us rouse the others."
* * * * *
Something was different in the shade of Grandfather Tree. For the first time, the iciness that the party had carried since leaving Sungar's Camp seemed to fall away. The petty squabbles ceased. They felt not like a group thrust together by the whims of circumstance, but a true band of fellows, united by destiny and a common goal. Even Keirkrad was changed after he broke down and wept at the sight of the boughs spreading above, painting the sky with brilliant hues of autumn.
Kellin was especially awestruck. She held great reverence for the Tree Ghosts' unique ancestor mound, something her father once tried to locate by following the clues of the famed Harper bard Mintiper Moonsilver, who even claimed to have explored forbidden dungeons beneath the tree.
Would that her father could see her now.
Rask Urgek led them to the village of Ghostand just north of the tree, constructed on shadowed platforms above the forest floor in a stand of oak trees. The Tree Ghost chieftain, the grizzled Gunther Longtooth, met them at the camp's edge with Thluna at his side.
"Your cause is just," said Gunther. "We shall help you however we can." The roar that went up from the Thunderbeasts scattered the birds from the trees above.
The mood was light that evening as the travelers put aside the heaviness of their task for the morrow. Mead and elven wine flowed freely, and soon the Tree Ghosts, who had faintly distrusted the outsiders, were as brothers with the Thunderbeasts, and even the elves seemed like long-lost friends. Copper-tressed Faeniele Eshele, the de facto leader of the elves here, was as close an advisor to Gunther Longtooth as the Tree Ghost elders. She was all but an honorary member of the tribe herself. The camp, well hidden and safe in the deep woods, was transformed into an impromptu feast, one that brought great bliss to the weary visitors. No fire lit this place, but strings of luminous lichens and magical lamps bathed the festivities in a warm glow. Wood elf minstrels blended their flutes and strings with the Tree Ghosts' Uthgardt sagas, a warm meld representing the friendship and accord their two races had found in this strange place.
Keirkrad chatted with Gunther, a fellow of his generation, and with whom he was faintly acquainted from some dealings in the past. Thanar spent his time with lithesome Hala Spiritwalk—the Tree Ghost shaman—as well as some other druids visiting Grandfather Tree, some elves, and even one of the great red-furred creatures known as an alaghi. Ilskar, Hengin, and the rest found company among Tree Ghosts warriors of various ilk, and Kellin found a surprisingly appreciative audience in the Tree Ghosts' skalds and loremasters.