Lightning flashed and, like an obedient servant, thunder followed her with his crackling shouts. The smell of soil, water and ozone brewing in the electrified air told Odin that a violent storm was rapidly forming. Harsh rain began to fall, stinging their faces. Whirling winds sent swirls of leaves whipping across their bare feet and slowing their pace. Odin was certain the gullies ran deeper and mountain peaks higher than he remembered. Steep cliffs towered ahead, trapping them within stone walls. Odin worried that the sudden storm would fill the gully to overflowing and the rush of water would swallow them. By climbing higher, they might avoid the flash flood.
A white pine directly in front of them was struck by lightning. As the bolt seared into the pine, it burst into flames. The dazzling blaze revealed a cave’s opening carved into the high cliff. Laelia and Odin, with Punga safe in his beard, climbed to the cave’s protective hollow. Once inside, the thunder’s shouts dwindled to a muffled rumble. The only comfort to be found in their rocky shelter was the faint glow of crystals embedded in the walls.
Glancing off cliff walls and drawing ever closer was a shrill scream harmonizing with elated laughter. The cry, spinning closer to the cave’s entrance, sent Laelia huddling up to her brother. Flashes of lightning reflecting off the cave walls lit up the fear in her eyes. Hoping to drown out the scream, Odin reached into his pack and pulled out his flute. He mimicked the happy songs of ravens; his sister joined in with her sweetest voice. But even with the flute’s cheerful song, they could not escape the shrill cry that had swept through the mountain passes and into the mouth of their cave.
Electric bolts ripping across the sky cut gashes in the granite and broke loose gigantic boulders that tumbled down the mountainside. Stones shattered as they fell directly in front of the cave’s opening. Finally, the storm subsided and the unnerving screams stopped; the rubble’s dust settled and stillness filled the air. Odin, Punga and Laelia moved to the mouth of the cave.
When they stepped out into the woods, the scent of jasmine caressed the damp air. Wispy green mist curled around the fallen boulders and transformed into the banshee. Her eyes glowed green as she approached Odin and Laelia. She pointed to a boulder, split in half, that lay at their feet. Embedded in the rock were crystals blazing purple, green and blue.
The banshee stood for a long moment and studied Odin and Laelia’s eyes. Serenely, she delivered her message, “Look to the Milky Way.” Out of nowhere, a strong gust of wind blew over the banshee, softening to a slight breeze, playing and pulling her black hair away from her face. Magnificent in her long-legged femininity, she straddled the wind’s back and rode off, disappearing into the jagged mountain peaks and leaving behind her lingering scent.
Having heard the banshee’s message, Odin, Punga and Laelia watched her vanish into the night sky, blending into the green luminescence radiating from the Milky Way. When the three looked down, they were stunned to see that each crystal broken apart by the lightning strikes held an image of the Milky Way. Odin and Punga remembered Manti’s tale of the ancient legends. The prophesies were true. The crystals were the hidden source of power! Absorbing the sun’s energy, the crystals’ power would set the trolls free. No longer would they be dependent on the black oil that belched out of planet Ode’s entrails.
Odin would also use this knowledge to keep his promise to the noble trees. With the trolls’ new source of energy, the majestic trees would once again be free of the greed caused by oil. Trees would grow tall and flourish, releasing their life force of oxygen. Waters would run free of pollution. The three friends stood still for some time in awe of the power this knowledge held. Lightness entered Odin’s very being. He broke the silence and started up the mountain with the kind moon illuminating their way.
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It was some time before Laelia noticed the surrounding woods were alive with the song of a raven. He was mimicking her voice. The raven’s mimic was reminiscent of her old friend who had captured the sweetness of her voice and often teased her with his song. She would never forget that the unselfish bird’s last act of devotion was to lead her brother to Zote’s cavern. Her friend’s loyalty and his part in her rescue healed her grief and its burden of sadness.
Laelia reached out and touched Odin’s arm; they stopped and listened. The raven was perched in a tall tree just above her head. He must have been following their every movement as they climbed the mountain. His wings, black as night, kept him hidden among the branches in spite of the moonlight. A sudden rush of wings exposed the raven as he took flight in easy spirals into the night sky.
Without warning, he flew down and landed on Laelia’s shoulder, nearly knocking her over. She was startled, but not frightened, as this had been the habit of her friend the old raven. Laelia knew all ravens were mischievous by nature and this presumptuous bird was no exception. He began gently nibbling on Laelia’s earring, intrigued by its sparkling in the moonlight. She noticed he was a young raven, but his black eyes flashed with the wisdom of age. She guessed this feathered creature to be her raven friend’s offspring.
Laughter bubbled up in Laelia as she placed her hand around his glossy feathers and held him close to her face. The bird nestled closer, running strands of her hair through his beak. She knew this brazen raven would always be there for her. She removed the earring and gave it to her new companion. He flew off with the clear intent of hiding this new treasure in his cache nearby. He returned with a small stone held in his powerful bill. The raven dropped the stone into her small hand, kindling memories of her parents. It was a carved point made of green serpentine. This point, used in a dart, had to be one that their mother had carved long ago while working alongside their father. Laelia surmised this impetuous raven must now be living in the same nest as her old friend. Her newfound friendship with the raven and their return to Mt. Grieg prompted Laelia into humming a happy melody. Upon hearing Laelia’s lyrical voice, Odin and Punga knew she was once again going to be the delightful troll they had always known.
Punga’s alert eyes caught the outline of a large owl sitting in a tall tree and silhouetted against the moonlight. He was calmly waiting for the raven to fly away, as owls do not share sky space with ravens. Shrill laughter suddenly escaped from the gray phantom. Terribly uneasy, Punga climbed into Odin’s beard and peeked out. Would the owl swoop down, taking him for a plump insect to devour? Punga never did fully trust any owl. Shortly, the owl caught an updraft, circled, and then flew north.
Punga would later come to know he had nothing to fear from this raptor of the night. He would often see the great owl perched in a tall white pine and hear his hoot asking, “Whoooo? Whoooo?” The owl’s yellow eyes, shining in the dark, would watch over the little Jerusalem cricket as he did his night crawling. When danger threatened Punga, the owl would ensure his safety by snapping his beak, spreading his four-foot wingspan, and growling. The owl would remain Punga’s constant companion.
The long night blossomed into daylight. Odin’s shadow loomed tall in front of him. He had learned to trust his shadow and followed its silhouette up Mt. Grieg. This was his mountain and he now respected its boundless strength. The higher he climbed, the lighter his heart.
Laelia took hold of her brother’s strong hand and they turned to look down on the bottomland and its black water bogs. Beneath the vapor of fog that hung suspended over the swamps below Mt. Grieg, they knew that another life existed. A slight wind delivered the musty smell of rotting bark mingled with the perfumed scent of orchids. A cold wet wind swept the fragrance away and briefly replaced it with the primordial stink of crude oil. This odor reawakened their fears of the dreaded oil trolls and the nagging truth—the messenger of the wind had reminded them that their freedom would always be at risk.
Laelia thought of Zote, Amal and Manti. Would the dim-witted Zote be safe? She missed Manti and her crooked smile. Laelia wondered if she, in her old age, would have hair as white as jasmine and live in a yew tree.