Chapter 24
The Jinn people keep outsiders out of their heartland as much as possible. This is easy for them to do – the Dragon Web and related magics do not work there, and magic of the Aos Si works nearly as badly, and it is desert country, and only lightly populated. This has allowed many legends to arise, and tales of flying monsters as big as a ship are common, snake-haired women with the legs of birds, sand dancers ready to lead the unwary away, a lake at the center of the wilderness that grants wishes, and the legend of Mount Qaaf, where the wisest person in the world lives, surrounded by countless amounts of treasure that can only be won by answering a riddle no one has yet solved are common stories that percolate through the Sunlit Lands. Some say the Jinn and the Peri people who live there encourage the telling of these tales, trying to keep other people away. Whatever the reason, the tales spin a story world both exotic and mysterious. I hope you find the stories gathered as interesting as they were to gather.
Preface, Tales of the Gray Lands by Maire Windwood of the Alder Branches
While the work party continued Cullin launched himself deep into the wood, resting on the lower branch of a large oak tree, still confused by the events at Mistress Gan’s house.
“Oh, there you are,” Leila the nymph said. “I could feel the ripples of something echoing through your forest. I take it you had an odd day.” She ducked beneath the branch he was sitting on and gave him a questioning look.
“And what told you that?” he said, still clutching the saucer with the slice of cake Gan had offered him. He stared down at it rather than meet the nymph’s eyes.
“Oh, little things,” said the nymph. She picked up a stray oak leaf, and making a single gesture, transformed it into a small carpet. Laying it on the ground, she gracefully sat down next to the Tree Shepherd. “First, the Wood Wives have been threatening the poor Urisk with mirrors,” Leila said. “You know how self-conscious he is about his looks. The fact that most of us thinks he’s ugly distresses him to no end. Why they would torture that poor, gentle soul that way...”
“Bah,” Cullin said. “Have they ever looked at their own reflections? Or do they think they look like you when they see themselves?”
“I think they do, actually,” Leila said. “You should hear them when they’re getting dressed. They go on and on about now they have to be sure not to make all the men in the forest not go mad over how gorgeous they are.”
Cullin guffawed.
“And Rusty was teasing the Old Stag. Almost got gored.”
“Stupid Faun. He would have deserved it. The Old Stag doesn’t put up with much. That’s why he’s the stag king.” Suddenly realizing he was still holding the saucer, he put it on the branch next to him.
“And...” she was about to list other things, and saw how Cullin wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, he stared off, a slight scowl on his lips.
“You’re off balance again. Was it Mistress Gan?”
Cullin sighed. “Not exactly.”
“Want to tell me about it?” She leaned back on the tree truck.
“It still has Gan in the middle of it, though. You’re right on that part of it.”
Leila tilted her head to the side and rested a finger on her chin, like she was contemplating a puzzle. “Not her fault, but she’s still in the middle?” Her eyes lit up as she remembered something. “Does this have something to do with Lady Elaine sending a work party over there?”
Cullin pulled his wide-brimmed hat down, hiding his eyes. “You know about that?”
“A panicked pixie told me.” Leila said, nodding. “Something about Ixip and all these workers coming in on monster wagons drawn by monsters.”
“The air reeked of it. No monsters but oxen.”
“To a pixie, an ox is a monster,” Leila said, “as scary as a wyvern.”
He shrugged. “Pixies see things differently. But it wasn’t just workers. Lady Elaine and her boy were there. And her…” he sighed, “..her sister.”
“Arriane? She’s back from the White Isle?”
“Last time I saw her she was a little girl with sticks in her hair and a skinned knee, lost in the woods. Now she’s….”
“All grown up and in the first flush of Daoine beauty?” Leila suggested.
“So beautiful. Like when the fireflies dance, or the Water Sprites on the Summer full moon rise up out of the lake to dance. Like when you stumble across the unicorn by the falls on a full moon night. Like the morning after the first real snow of the year, when the trees are all frosted in the sunlight. Like Leila when she laughs at one of the Old Oak’s rude jokes...”
He turned and looked at her. Leila smiled at that last item.
“Are you smitten with her beauty as an art object, or are you claiming love at first sight?”
“I don’t know anything about her. Love of her beauty at first sight?” He slid off of the tree branch. “Is there such a thing? Loving the beauty separate from the person?”
“Maybe,” Leila said. “I’m warning you, though – you’re starting to sound like one of my novels.”
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He gave her a sharp look. “Don’t even begin to make that comparison.”
“Is it just being smitten by Lady Arriane that has unbalanced you?”
“No,” he said. “Morvran will probably tell you everything about it. He was there.”
“Shall I go find him then, to find out all the details?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. But...but tell me - how did she get to be a beautiful woman so soon. It was just the other day she got lost on the edge of the forest, and I took her back to her nurse.”
“Time does pass. Look at Gan. She was a child when the Great Fire happened.”
Cullin nodded. “I told Morvran there were trees that sprouted, grew and died since that happened. It’s true.”
“Here in the forest there really isn’t much to signal the passing of time except the change of seasons, and they all blend into each other.” She rested a hand on his arm. “Think of how many years you’ve lived here, Tree Shepherd.”
“It all blends together.”
“But not for children. Even you were a child once, you know. And the whole world changed regularly until you came here.”
“I guess,” Cullin said. “All that time seems so gray. I was caught up in the Sundering war and lost all my family until Lady Sulis found me. And then I came to the forest.”
“I told you Gan would bring change. Not because she’s bad or making trouble, but because she’s new. Things will swirl around for a while, and then she’ll be as much as part of the landscape as the Old Oak.”
“But not as rude, I suspect.”
She smiled at him. “I do suspect. And she’ll bake much better cake.”
Cullin looked at the slice of cake laying in its saucer. He picked up the plate and took a bite. It was rich with the taste of spice. “No doubt indeed.”
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Late afternoon sunlight filtered into the quiet room through gauzy curtains. Outside, there was the sound of wind in the branches of trees, and the chirping of birds, and the very faint music of wind chimes in the garden beyond.
Although the light was soft and filtered, and to someone coming in from outside, it might even be called dim, Violette Greenleaf blinked her eyes three times against even that filtered light as she awakened. Released from her magical healing sleep, she had spent most of the last day drifting in and out of normal rest, barely aware of the times people had come to her room to check on her, feeding her broth, changing her bandage. This was the first time she felt truly awake and lucid.
Beneath her, she could feel the texture of the bed sheet she was lying on, fine smooth linen, and as she clutched the blanket covering her, she could feel the lightweight but fluffy wool. Breathing in she noticed that the air smelled of bitter herbal medicines and sickness, as well as a light floral odor, perhaps lavender, that had been placed as a sachet or potpourri somewhere in the room. All of these things, the texture of reality, were things that had been missing in her moments of dreamlike lucidity she had experienced for many days. She lifted an arm and made a fist. Her muscles were stiff from lack of use, adding to her awareness of the change in her condition.
“I must really be awake, finally,” she said, or tried to. Her mouth and throat were very dry, and it was hard to make sounds above a croak.
Turning her head, she saw a cup and a carafe on a wooden nightstand next to the bed, there among a stack of bandage material and vials of medicine. With some effort, she threw off her covers and managed to sit up. It was a mildly painful effort since she hadn’t really moved for awhile and her muscles complained, leaving her dizzy and short of breath.
“How long have I been out of it?” she whispered, sitting still as she focused on getting her breath back and allowing the lightheadedness she felt pass. Taking a deep breath after she was sure she could handle it, she reached out and grabbed the cup with both hands. It contained a clear liquid, and a sniff and a small sip confirmed it was water. She took another, larger sip and felt it go down and cool her dry throat. After a moment, she took another, then greedily swallowed the whole thing down.
“Better,” she said. Her throat still felt too dry, but at least she could make sounds. She almost reached for the carafe to pour another cup, but the way the water hit her stomach, she stopped.
“Where am I and how did I get here?”
The room had no answer.
Looking down, she noticed she was dressed in a plain white night dress and one of her legs was wrapped in a bandage. “How sick was I?” she asked. She vaguely remembered being bit by something, but everything after that was a mix of pain and drifting into darkness and Xhindi hovering over her. Wiggling her foot, she could feel small twinges in the bandaged area. “Doesn’t really hurt now. How long have I been here?”
She contemplated standing, but as she put the cup back on the nightstand, the door to the room opened up, and a tall jinn woman wrapped in white robes walked in. She, like Xhindi was dark of eye. Across her forehead was a red filet decorated with dangling metal beads that ended just above her eyebrows. Her hair was covered with a white veil. She gave Violetta a solemn, but pleased look.
She walked over to the bed.
“Ah, you’re awake, I see,” she said, resting her hand lightly on Violetta’s forehead. Pleased again, she gave the sick woman a quick nod. “Your body temperature has stabilized. All the fever has gone.” The next thing she did was check the now empty cup, then gracefully refilled the cup from the carafe. “And able to drink. That is good. I suspect you felt rather thirsty.”
Violetta nodded. “I was.” Her voice was still gravelly, but she could at least make sounds now. “Were you the one who took care of me?”
The woman in white nodded, then took Violetta’s wrist. Violetta could feel the tickle of the white-clad woman’s magic slither up her arm and into her aura as she did so, and it made her jerk, just a little.
“Thirst - that’s what happens when you have been kept in a deep healing sleep. The medicines and magic make it hard to get the patient to swallow as much as normal, or even drink. There are healer’s tricks to help, but it’s never enough. Feel free to drink more, but try not to drink too fast. Your stomach might over react.”
Violetta nodded, then looked around the room and back at her nurse. There were questions in her eyes which t he woman in white ignored while she concentrated on whatever she was sensing, but after a moment she let go of Violetta’s hand. “You are healing nicely. Not everyone who is Aos Si does so well after the bite of a blood fire spider.”
“Was that what happened? I don’t remember very much,” Violetta said. “Just pain, and Xhindi making me drink a potion...everything else is a memory of pain and dream.” She looked around the room she was in, and back at the woman tending her. “I don’t even know where I am. Or who you are. You look like a woman who kept coming to me in my dreams.”
The woman in white raised an eyebrow at that. “In your dreams?”
“She looked a lot like you, except her hair was bright red, and her robes were gray, not white. Almost like smoke.”
The standing woman’s eyes went a bit wide. “As for where you are --you are deep in Jinn territory, in a place you were never meant to be. We don’t usually let outsiders into our sacred spaces.”
“I...I am sorry,” Violetta said “I...”
The woman in white held up her hand. “None of this is your fault. Xhindi did right bringing you here. You would have died if he made for the next freehold. I am the Called for this place. That’s what we call the people who guard the sacred sites. When I came here, I gave up my name, so that is all I can tell you to call me.”
She moved to the door. “Since you are awake, I’ll have someone prepare you something to eat. Try not to get out of bed any more than you need to. I’m not sure if your leg is ready for much weight on it. Now, let me go tell Xhindi the news.”
“Xhindi’s still here?” Violetta asked. She, for some reason, was surprised.
The Called nodded. “He sat by your side many hours while you were asleep. If I don’t tell him how I found you now, he’ll be breaking down the door. Rest. We will help you get back your strength. But it is good that you are back with us. And maybe, if you feel like it, you can tell me about your dreams. I wonder about this woman you saw.”
And with that she stepped out of the room.