“Very . . . odd,” Daniel replied.
Kay laughed and stuck the leaf Daniel had been given in the pocket of the coat he was now wearing. “Now, listen-this is what you need to know . . .”
Kay put his hands on Daniel’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes.
“This place is not like yours-it obeys different rules. The most important of these, for now, is that objects have ownership. It is essential that you don’t take anything that isn’t given to you-for if you steal something, then that thing will own you and not the other way around. For instance, I gave you my cloak. If you had taken it, you would have been beholden to it. Do you understand?”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“Now I may give you your second gift.” He held out a sewnup skin covered in soft fur and laced with intricately woven straps. It was evidently a water container of some sort. “Carry it with you and take just a few sips at a time. It holds more than it appears to.”
Daniel removed the stopper and took a gulp from it. He was parched.
“You are about to enter one of the enchanted forests,” Kay continued. “If you take anything-a seed, a leaf, a pinecone-and put it into your pocket, you will not be able to return home. If you eat anything-a berry, a fruit, or an animal-then this land will own you, and you won’t be able to return home. Do you understand?”
Daniel nodded again, his head starting to spin. What had he fallen into now?
“However, this wood is a friend of my people. One moment, I will introduce you to it.”
Saying that, he turned to face the line of trees and started to sing in a different language. When he had finished, the forest seemed less intimidating somehow.
“That’s done,” said Kay as he turned back to Daniel. “So all you must do, if you need anything, is to ask for it and wait for it to be presented to you. But to do this, you must ask in a respectful way-you must ask in verse.”
“In verse?”
“Tunefully. Or, if it’s easier for you, in poem. Nothing fancy.
Couplets work well. Just so the forest knows that you honour it.
But don’t ask for anything frivolous, as you may anger it. This applies to everything, even the water with which you are to fill the skin. Everything must be asked for and never just taken.”
Daniel’s head took another spin. Couplets?
“Fauna: smaller birds can be trusted. Anything larger than a kestrel cannot-and that includes kestrels. Burrowers are honest, but they’re stupid, except for foxes, of course-don’t talk to the foxes. If you see a fox, ignore it. Bears . . . stay away from bears. Wolves shouldn’t be a problem, so long as you stick to the path.”
“The path?”
“Ah, the path-thank you for reminding me. When I have left, you must enter the forest and travel until you reach a clearing- any clearing will do. Then ask the forest for whatever you need in the night-food, bedding, a fire. Don’t ask for anything until night-you may be seen otherwise. When you are able to see the sun through the trees once more, ask the forest to show you the path to the wood-burner’s hut. Follow that path until you get to the wood-burner’s hut.”
“The wood-burner’s hut. Then what?”
“I cannot tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I do not know.”
“Will the wood-burner get me out of this place?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“So what do you know?”
“Only this-what I am doing now, that which I was told to do, which is far more than those who sent you here will suspect. They sent you here thinking that this world would claim you- these measures will prevent that, so that you may, one day soon, return.”
“How do I know that I can trust you?”
“Because I came here at great cost.” Kay Marrey looked over his shoulder to the setting sun. Just the tiniest slivers were still visible on either side of the mountain. “A cost that grows greater the longer I stop here.”
He reached into a pouch at his belt. “This is my final gift,” he said, unfastening a pouch at his belt and handing it to Daniel.
Daniel opened it and shook a flat stone about the size of a two-pound coin into his palm. It was a reddish-brown colour and rough. “Keep this in your mouth when you stop to rest or are idle,”
Kay instructed him. “It bears no enchantment, but those of your kind need such as this if they are to sojourn long in this land. That is all I have to explain or give. Do you have any more questions?”
Daniel turned the stone over in his hand. Questions? Where to begin? “Where are you from, and who sent you here?”
Kay turned and went back to his horse. He brushed its head and nuzzled it affectionately. “I was sent here by the Doubted King of this world who will one day return to rule righteously.”
“Is he a good king?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be good to you. He does what is right for his kingdom, even if that means that he’s hard on his subjects.”
“Am I one of his subjects?”
Kay rubbed his cheek against his horse’s muzzle and patted its head. “I don’t know, are you?”
“If I’m not, why should I do what he wants?”
Kay whispered into his horse’s ear and gave it a smack on the rump; it turned and cantered off the way it had come. “Because he’s right. No time for more questions,” he said, turning and scanning the sky. “Enter the woods quickly now, for I am being pursued by our enemies. Don’t exit the woods, no matter in what trouble you see me. Hurry now, your life depends on it. Don’t forget- take nothing that is not given!” he called out. “Oh,” he added, “and don’t talk to dead people!”
Daniel started jogging towards the woods and then remembered that he hadn’t heard the answer to one of his questions. “You never told me where you were from!” Daniel shouted.
Kay told him just as he started off at a run along the tree line.
Daniel reached the trunk of a large pine and crouched behind it. He watched Kay speed away from him, running easily. The sun finally set, leaving the sky a dusky pink. Just as Daniel was about to stand, he heard a screech from the sky, which was followed by several more. His eyes flicked upwards and he saw eight large birds, black against the sky, flapping and diving furiously at the small, dark figure.
The black birds-crows, maybe-descended upon Kay, hurling themselves at his back and shoulders. They were like guided missiles with sharpened beaks and talons that clawed at him. Then, opening their wings, they took to the sky, only to swoop down upon their target again. Even at this distance, Daniel could see that his thick coat, which had helped him tough out the cold streets of Oxford, was very quickly and easily ripped into shreds. Kay ducked into the forest, and the birds gave a long piercing cry and followed him in. Then it was silent and still.
Daniel took a breath and stood up. It was getting colder now that the sun was gone, although the sky was still bright. If there was anyone after him, he needed to make some headway into the forest before it got really dark.
And all the time, the words of Kay the Rider echoed in his ears: “I come from the Elves in Exile, who will one day return.”
CHAPTER SIX
Lights in the Dark
1
Before . . .
With a start that jerked him nearly upright, Daniel awoke. In less than a second, the details of his dream flew from his memory and he was left with just a vague impression of fear and of falling. He lay in the large bed a moment under the heavy covers. The mattress was hard but not uncomfortable, and the pillows soft and deep.
He rolled onto his back and looked up at the stone ceiling. It was carved in what was becoming his favorite style-with leaves and vines, branches and twigs, insects and small animals. In an underground world, the only thing available is a lot of stone, and in hundreds of years, with little else except for that around them, they’ve become very good at using it, he thought.