Where was he?
And why was he alone?
Oddly, he didn’t feel hungry or tired-well, no more hungry or tired than he did when he came here. It was something in the air that felt nourishing-or maybe sustaining was the correct word. There was a fairly stiff wind, but he felt warm. He had taken off his heavy jacket for the first time in months. Then he unslung his sword from his shoulder and fitted it around his waist. He didn’t feel the need to hide it now. In fact, it was probably better that anyone he came across did see it.
Perhaps it was only his sense of time that was distorted, and not the world’s. He counted silently in his head and then out loud. He measured that against the steps he was taking and the progress that he didn’t seem to be making. Everything he was doing seemed to be normal and easiest explained by the fact that he was somewhere very vast.
And where was that? Another planet? Another dimension?
Could he be in his own mind-a hallucination? Perhaps he had been hit by a car and was lying in a coma somewhere. Maybe what he was experiencing was only a representation in his mind of what was really going on.
The steady regularity of his footfalls started to entrance him and his mind started to idle, not really thinking much of anything. After a time, he was aware that he was holding something- the slip of paper he’d been given in the church. It fluttered in his hand, spinning gently in the wind. It seemed an ordinary slip of paper, but . . . what was written on it? Was there anything on it? If there was, then he felt he should be able to read it, but he couldn’t. Perhaps it was blank.
He twirled it between his fingertips. It was comforting to him.
Hour after hour passed and he was gratified to see that he was definitely getting closer now. Not only had the green brushstroke along the horizon grown thicker, it now nearly encompassed his whole field of vision. This was encouraging to him, even though he doubted that he had traveled much more than half of the distance necessary. The sun, he could see now, was descending directly behind him, gently warming his neck and shoulders. He judged it would hit the mountain around the time that he reached the forest.
Evening, in other words, just as he met the border of two different places. The phrase like a pillar of smoke through a field of fog went through his head. He began to feel strongly-though acknowledging he had no reason to-that he would meet someone once he reached the forest. There would be a coincidence.
He started to pepper his pace with bursts of jogging, eager to get the meeting under way, if it was to happen, or just to reach shelter if it wasn’t.
The bottommost edge of the sun touched the very tip of the mountain, which was now very clear against the sky, being a dark purple. Daniel felt he would be able to say to himself that he was “almost there.” He could now pick out individual trees from among the leafy mass, but they seemed huge, like the redwoods he’d seen in pictures.
A couple more hours-the timescale was making him feel anxious now-and he was about throwing distance from the first trees of the forest, which looked to be fairly tightly packed. The sun was low enough that the mountain seemed to be wearing it as a halo. It threw a long shadow across the plain, overtaking him and making him cold once more. He put his coat back on.
Daniel approached the forest cautiously, on the lookout for any sign of someone besides himself. His eyes searched the landscape for anything else in this place that wasn’t grass or trees, and he found it in a speck of white that moved along the base of the tree line, far to the left of his vision. It was a cloud of dust rising from the ground and speeding towards him. Ahead of the cloud was a frantically moving speck of light grey that occasionally flashed white.
There was a moist, nostalgic smell of decaying leaves coming from the forest. The setting sun, now bisected and peering out from both sides of the mountain, displayed two orange sections that bathed the trees in a reddish light, making the treescape eerily beautiful. It reminded Daniel of another wall of incredibly beautiful trees . . .
A feeling of nervous anticipation grew inside of Daniel as the white fluttering shape grew nearer-it was a person on horseback. Daniel stopped near one of the trees and waited for the rider to catch up to him. He wondered if he should draw his sword.
In this new vast and slow place, he was able to watch the small image grow larger and larger until it slowed and stopped before him. The rider was a man, a young man, on a brilliant white horse.
“Hail,” the rider said, halting his magnificent animal.
“Hail,” responded Daniel. The two took a moment to study each other.
The rider’s face was fair and unwrinkled and was wearing a wry grin. He had loose blond hair that was cropped short around the ears and neck and fell forward over his long brow. He was dressed in a loose white shirt that billowed around the chest and shoulders but was gathered up and bound down the forearms to the wrists with ornate bands of cloth that appeared to be woven with gold. He wore dun-coloured leather trousers that stopped just below his knees, and his feet were bare. He sat atop the horse on a blanket that was bordered with intricate patterns. The horse was of a medium size-Daniel had seen bigger-but it had a narrow muzzle and long sinewy legs that made it very fast.
“Thanks be to the king,” said the rider. “I truly believe you are he.”
Daniel didn’t know what to say, so he asked the question most pressing on his mind. “Where am I?”
“You are in Elfland-the Faerie realms, to be specific. And because of that, I cannot speak long. It is important that you mark all that I say. When the sun’s last rays vanish, then I will be found, and at that time, we must already be parted.”
Elfland? This was probably worse than he imagined. “What’s your name?” Daniel asked.
“My name is Kay Marrey. But first, before any more is said-”
The rider quickly and effortlessly dismounted. Daniel now saw that he was quite tall, around six and a half feet. He looked back to the horse, reestimating its height. Elfland was taking some getting used to.
Kay took a long stride towards Daniel and snatched his coat from his hands. He started going through the pockets.
“What are you-?”
“I can feel it . . . like a buzzing insect. Ah, here.”
Kay reached into the front pocket and pulled out the slip of paper that Daniel had been given. Except now, when Kay held it, Daniel saw it was a leaf. A large yellow oak leaf.
“Where did that come from?” Daniel asked.
Kay Marrey held it upright by the stem, between his thumb and forefinger. “You were given this, yes? In your world. Did you know what it was?”
“At first I thought it was money.”
Kay nodded. “It is a leaf of a different wood. It was taken to your world as a way to mark and snare you.” Still holding the leaf, he rounded the horse and opened a satchel that was attached to his riding blanket. He drew out a suede leather cloak that was a very light-grey trimmed with white. “I am allowed to give you three gifts for you to keep for as long as you are in this land,” Kay announced, unfastening his cloak. “And this is the first,” he said, whipping it off his shoulders.
“Thanks,” Daniel said, reaching out his hand.
“Wait,” Kay said, pulling it back. “Give me your coat first. Take what you need from the pockets.”
Daniel did this and then handed his coat over. Kay told him how to fasten the cloak around his neck and then helped him on with his backpack. “How do I look?” Kay asked, pulling on Daniel’s coat and holding his arms out for an appraisal.