“He looks dangerous to me,” Rone stated flatly.
“Oh, he is,” the girl agreed. “Very dangerous. Wild, he would be uncontrollable. But Whisper is no longer wild. There may be a small part of him that still is, a memory or an instinct buried deep inside somewhere, but it’s all but forgotten now.”
She rose and poured them each a bit more of the wine. “Do you like our home?‘’ she asked them after a moment.
“Very much,” Brin replied.
The girl smiled, obviously pleased. “I did most of the decorations myself—except for the glass and silver things; those were brought by grandfather from his trips. Or some he had before I came. But the rest, I did. And the gardens—I planted those. All the flowers and shrubs and vegetables—all the small bushes and vines. I like the colors and the sweet smells.”
Brin smiled, too. Kimber Boh was a mixture of child and woman—in some ways still young, in some grown beyond her years. It was strange, but she reminded the Valegirl of Jair. Thinking of it made her miss her brother terribly.
Kimber Boh saw the look that crossed her face and mistook it. “It really isn’t dangerous here at Hearthstone,” she assured the Valegirl. “It may seem that way to you because you are not familiar with the country, as I am. But this is my home, remember—this is where I grew up. Grandfather taught me when I was little what I should know in order to protect myself. I have learned to deal with what dangers there are; I know how to avoid them. And I have grandfather and Whisper. You don’t have to be worried about me—really, you don’t.”
Brin smiled at the assurance. “I can see that I don’t, Kimber. I can see that you are very capable.”
To her surprise, Kimber Boh blushed. Then hurriedly the girl stood up and walked to where Cogline had dropped his forest cloak on the arm of the wooden rocker. “I have to take grandfather his coat,” she announced quickly. “It’s cold out there. Would you like to walk with me?”
Valegirl and highlander rose and followed as she opened the door and stepped outside. The moment the latch clicked free, Whisper was on his feet, padding silently through the door after them.
They paused momentarily on the porch of the little cottage, losing themselves in the splendor of the evening’s peaceful, almost mystical still-life. The air was chill and faintly damp and smelled sweetly of the darkened forest. White moonlight bathed the lawn, flower gardens, neatly trimmed hedgerows, and shrubs with dazzling brightness. Each blade of grass, soft petal, and tiny leaf glistened wetly, deep emerald laced with frost as the dew of the autumn evening gathered. In the blackness beyond, the trees of the forest rose against the star-filled sky like monstrous giants—ageless, massive, frozen in the silence of the night. The gentle wind of early dusk had faded entirely now, drifting soundlessly into stillness. Even the familiar cries of the woodland creatures had softened to faint and distant murmurs that soothed and comforted.
“Grandfather will be at the willow,” Kimber Boh said softly, breaking the spell.
Together, they moved off the porch onto the walkway that led to the rear of the cottage. No one spoke a word. They simply walked slowly, the girl leading, their boots scraping softly against the worn stone. Something skittered through the dry leaves in the dark curtain of the forest and was gone. A bird called sharply, its piercing cry echoing in the stillness, lingering on.
The three moved past the corner of the house now, through groupings of pine and spruce and lines of hedgerows. Then a huge, sagging willow appeared from out of the darkness of the edge of the forest, its branches trailing in thick streamers that hung like a curtain against the night. Massive and gnarled, its humped form lay wrapped in shadowed darkness, as if drawn inward onto itself. There, beneath its canopied arch, the bowl of a pipe glowed deep red in the darkness, and puffs of smoke rose skyward to thin and vanish.
As they passed through the trailing limbs of the willow, they saw clearly the skeletal form of Cogline, hunched over on one of a pair of wooden benches that had been placed at the base of the ancient trunk, his wizened face turned toward the darkened forest. Kimber Boh went directly over to him and placed the forest cloak about his shoulders.
“You will catch cold, grandfather,” she scolded gently.
The old man grimaced. “Can’t even come out here for a smoke without you hovering over me like a mother hen!” He pulled the cloak about him nevertheless as he glanced over at Brin and Rone. “And I don’t need these two for company either. Or that worthless cat. I pose you brought him out here, too!”
Brin looked about for Whisper and was surprised to find that he had disappeared again. A moment earlier, he had been right behind them.
Kimber Boh seated herself next to her grandfather. “Why won’t you at least try to be friends with Brin and Rone?” she asked him quietly.
“What for?” the other snapped. “I don’t need friends! Friends are nothing but trouble, always expecting you to do something for them, always wanting some favor or other. Had enough friends in the old days, girl. You don’t understand enough about how life is, that’s your trouble!”
The girl glanced apologetically at Brin and Rone and nodded toward the empty bench. Wordlessly, the Valegirl and the highlander sat down across from her.
Kimber Boh turned back to the old man. “You must not be like that. You must not be so selfish.”
“I’m an old man. I can be what I want!” Cogline muttered petulantly.
“When I used to say things like that, you called me spoiled and sent me to my room. Do you remember?”
“That was different!”
“Should I send you to your room?” she asked, speaking to the old man as a mother would to her child, her hands clasping his. “Or perhaps you would prefer it if Whisper and I also had nothing more to do with you since we are your friends, too, and you do not seem to want any friends.”
Cogline clamped his teeth about the stem of his pipe as if he might bite it through and hunched down sullenly within the cloak, refusing to answer. Brin glanced quickly over at Rone, who arched one eyebrow in response. It was clear to both that despite her age, it was Kimber Boh who was the stabilizing force in this strange little family.
The girl leaned over then and kissed her grandfather’s cheek softly. “I know that you don’t really believe what you said. I know you are a good, kind, gentle man, and I love you.” She brought her arms about his thin frame and hugged him close.
To Brin’s surprise, the old man’s arm came up tentatively and hugged her back.
“They should have asked before they came here,” he muttered, gesturing vaguely toward the Valegirl and the highlander. “I might have hurt them, you know.”
“Yes, grandfather, I know,” the girl responded. “But now that they are here, after having made such a long journey to find you, I think you should see why it is that they have come and if there is anything you can do to help them.”
Brin and Rone exchanged hurried glances once more. Cogline slipped free of Kimber Boh’s arms, muttering and shaking his head, wispish hair dancing in the moonglow like fine silk thread.
“Dratted cat, where’s he got to this time! Whisper! Come out here, you worthless beast! I’m not sitting around…”
“Grandfather!” the girl interrupted him firmly. The old man looked at her in startled silence, and she nodded toward Brin and Rone. “Our friends, grandfather—will you ask them?”
The wrinkles in the old man’s face creased deeper as he frowned. “Oh, very well,” he huffed irritably. “What was it that brought you here?”
“We have need of someone who can show us a way through this country,” Brin replied at once, hardly daring to hope that the help they so badly needed might at last be offered. “We were told that Cogline was the one man who might know that way.”