REALM'S END (BOOK OF FEY 1) by Jules Hancock Page A

                                                                  

Changes
     
     
                    Briok flew from the study chamber out into the great chamber. There, waiting for him was a spirit of a young bird. Though its body was no longer alive, this in no way impeded its ability to live a life in its spirit body. Briok recognized its tribe. Small birds that liked to nest down along the cliffs, which looked out over the sea. Briok bowed low to the bird. “Thank you little friend for your guidance today, I am honored.”
         The spirit bird seemed pleased with Briok’s words and while it did not make any noise that Briok could see, the tiny bird opened its beak, and threw its head back as if to sing. Then the bird turned and flew off into the long chamber. Briok hurried to catch up. He found it hard work to follow the spirit swallow. The little bird liked to fly in and out of the great roots the Rowan bent upward to hold the high ceilings in place.
    Within thirty minutes the two had left the well-lit area and were flying in near dark conditions. If the bird spirit body had not been made of light, Briok knew without a doubt he would have lost his way. On they flew deeper and deeper into the body of the Great Rowan. Briok grew tired, his wings hurt where they grew from his body, and still they flew onward. The tiny bird of light gave hints and glimmers of the great magic of the Rowan. Here and there Briok caught glimpses of the stately cavern, all of which was part of the Rowan’s body. Fantastic images rose up out of the darkness, only to be passed quickly by and replaced by other, even more fantastic images. Briok recognized images of tribes from long ago, they were nothing more than part of the Fey lore now. He saw exquisite fanciful shapes holding up the roof when the spirit bird flew near enough to the columns. He tried to use all the wonders of the chamber to keep his mind off his ever growing exhaustion. After what felt like an eternity, the bird flitted to a stop before a stone doorway.   The sweet scent of the sacred water wafted gently past him, on the breeze. Briok realized it had to be the doorway to the spring. “Wait for me will you? I need to fill my flask so that I might due my duty to the Great One.”
         The little bird again opened its beak as if to sing and then flew upward to land on the narrow door lentil, as if it meant to take its rest while Briok was inside.
         Briok flew slowly down through the narrow opening; he felt the strain of the Rowan’s barrier pressing against his body.  It was clear to Briok that the Rowan allowed few to enter this way and he understood the door was well guarded by the Rowan’s sacred magic. He was suddenly very glad the sacred tree had remembered to open the way for him. He didn’t want to find out what would have happened to him if he continued to push against the barrier if the way hadn’t been opened. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.
    Once inside Briok could see the crystals set tightly within the walls of the narrow hallway. The stones let off a surreal glow, and though he came to this cavern every day, he was not immune to the beauty of the shifting light. His wings carried him cautiously forward between the stalagmites; he continued along the twisting trail that came to an abrupt end on the sandy beach near the spring’s source. Quickly Briok landed and removed the container from his waist belt and pulled the stopper before he leaned down and let the water flow into the container. All around him he could hear the water laughing and singing a little song, he wondered if the girl’s arrival had anything to do with it. He had never heard the water singing before, or he wondered if maybe he just hadn’t understood it before. Perhaps it was left over from speaking with the Rowan. Briok shook his head and sighed as he bent low and reached out into