Call of the Herald by Brian Rathbone Page B

reached the clearing, Catrin smiled
in recognition. There was the tree she had climbed so long ago in
hopes of catching a glimpse of the enchanted grove. She needn't
wonder any longer; now the grove was her destination.
     
    * * *
     
    In search of the natural stair Catrin's
father had mentioned, they approached the base of the falls, the
mist rolling over them in clouds. Sunlight danced in the moisture,
casting rainbows across the clearing, and they moved quickly,
hoping to avoid a thorough soaking.
    "There it is," Chase said, and Catrin
followed his gaze. Rounded lumps, blanketed with moss and soaked
with accumulated moisture, formed the crude base of the stair. The
rest of the formation created an illusion, appearing flush with the
rock face until the spell broke, and Catrin could see the form
plainly. A narrow shelf angled up the rock face, its slope
irregular.
    Heights had never been a problem for Catrin,
but the stair was daunting. There was no room for error; any slip
could send her over the sheer drop with nothing to break her fall.
As they climbed higher, the stair became dry and, in some places,
distinct and well formed. Catrin found them a wonder, as if fate
had carved a path for them, and she was thankful for the gift.
    The mental image did not last long, though,
as they soon came on a crumbled section of stair, which was barely
passable. Perhaps fate did not wish to speed her trip after all,
Catrin thought, laughing at herself. They managed to negotiate the
treacherous section of the stair with a bit of help from each
other, but none of them looked forward to climbing back down. The
remainder of the climb proved to be fairly easy, and they reached
the top of the cliff unscathed.
    Moving west, they searched for the trail
Catrin's father said they would find. Seeing no obvious breaks in
the tree line, they moved along it, peering through the branches.
Ahead of them, a buck emerged from the forest, his ears flicking
forward and back, as if he sensed them. With a snort, he bounded
back into the woods, disappearing from view but aiding them
nonetheless. As they neared the spot where he had been, a trail
materialized within the outer barrier of leaves.
    Catrin led them into the forest, following
the narrow trail. The canopy of leaves blocked much of the
sunlight, and they moved within a shady world that was filled with
life. Deer moved almost silently through the woods, while smaller
animals ran through the leaves with wild abandon. Squirrels at play
sounded like a herd of beasts crashing through the undergrowth.
Colorful birds flitted from branch to branch, their varied warbles
filling the air.
    Menacing spiders had built elaborate webs
that spanned open areas between trees. When Catrin walked into one
of the clinging webs, she thought she felt its occupant land in her
hair, and she gave the boys a good laugh while she tried to shed
the imagined spider. Afterward she armed herself with a long stick,
which she waved in front of her like a wand, clearing the webs as
she walked.
    The sound of the waterfall faded into the
distance, and Catrin picked up the hint of a noisy brook. She knew
a stream ran near the grove, and she wondered if it was the same
one. The incline grew steep, and sweat soaked them as they hiked,
their legs aching. Soon, though, they emerged from the forest onto
a large plateau, which was carpeted with thick, green grass broken
occasionally by weathered outcroppings of obsidian rock. Emerald
moss clung to the megaliths, marbling their surface, as the land
slowly reclaimed the masses of stone.
    Ancient and immense, the greatoaks were
unmistakable in the distance, towering above the tallest elm.
Unlike any trees they had ever seen, the greatoaks soared into the
sky, their tops obscured by low-lying clouds. As the group drew
closer, the sheer magnitude of the trees became even more evident.
Twenty-four in all, they were evenly spaced and formed a nearly
perfect circle, but each one was a force unto itself.