what, young lady, can you talk to me about?” the stick man asked, with little sense of urgency about the conversation, but with his eyes protruding toward her as if they were going to pop completely out of their sockets in the expectation of a forthcoming—and acceptable—answer.
“Sir, I can tell you who each of us is, and that we are not from this land, and that we mean you no harm, but I cannot tell you more.”
“So, you . . . are?” the stick man inquired, his voice rising in pitch at the end of his short question.
“My name is Elli,” she said compliantly, “and these are,” she pointed in succession, “Beatríz, Alex, and Jamie. And, of course,” she added, “we are children.”
“Hmm . . .” the stick man said, continuing to look at Elli and puff his pipe. “Well . . . my name is Thorn, and I am what is called a Dactyl. My family and I lived along with other Dactyl families in this forest, and this is my home—at least . . . my home as long as the forest lasts,” he added, his voice trailing off and his eyes staring through Elli, as if he saw something behind her that had grabbed his attention.
“What do you mean by ‘as long as the forest lasts?’” asked Elli.
“But,” the stick man said, as if not even hearing Elli’s question, “I must hear more. Whatever are you doing in this forest—and where are you going?”
“I cannot tell you why we are in this forest, sir, except to say that we found ourselves suddenly surrounded by this forest and, to flee from some creatures that were pursuing us, we simply ran further into the forest in whatever direction The Beast was taking us,” Elli replied.
His eyes suddenly retreating back into their sockets, Thorn asked, “And who or what is this thing called ‘The Beast?’”
“Oh, of course. Well, we don’t really know what he is—or was—exactly, but it appeared that he wanted to eat us, and then he became our friend and wanted to lead us away from those who were chasing us. We just called him ‘The Beast.’ The sad thing, Mr. Thorn, is that we believe he is already dead—that maybe he sacrificed himself to give us time to find safety from the creatures when they were just about to reach us.”
“Ah, yes, so he did,” said Thorn, sadly. “I mean died in this battle you’ve described.” Thorn chewed on the stem of his pipe and added, glancing at each of the children briefly, “I saw the entire skirmish from above in the trees; it was this Beast you speak of that actually initiated the contact, rushing headlong into the clearing where your enemies had gathered. I don’t of course know whether he intended to sacrifice himself. What I can say with certainty is that without that distracting conflict we would not be having this conversation.” Thorn blinked. “But, none of this tells me why you are here in this land in the first place.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but none of us can tell you that. We are sworn to secrecy—and nothing will make us tell you, with all due respect,” Elli said, resolutely, but politely.
Thorn smiled a most tiny, barely visible, smile with his lipless mouth. “Well,” Thorn then said, “I simply needed to make sure.”
“To make sure of what?” asked Jamie.
“To make sure you wouldn’t tell me anything,” Thorn said.
“But,” Jamie added, “that’s what the woman . . .”
“Jamie!” Elli whispered loudly.
“I know what Hannah must have said to you,” Thorn said.
“So,” Elli replied, in a question veiled as a statement, “in other words, we don’t need to tell you anything because you already know—like Hannah!”
“Well,” said Thorn, rather matter-of-factly, “I’m not at all certain that I know all that Hannah knows. I only know that Hannah has told me—and others through the ‘maven-line’ as we call it—that if I ever encountered those who resembled you, I was to provide you safe passage through the forest—that is, as long as the forest lasts—and that I would know you because you would be children who would not tell me anything of your mission here.”
“Mr. Thorn,” Elli began.
“Just Thorn—no Mr. Thorn. Please.” He smiled, signaling with twirling fingers for her to continue.
“What do you mean by ‘while the forest lasts?’ I believe you’ve mentioned that twice now.”
“The forest, as large as it still is, was yet much larger when the Queen ruled this land. But Sutante Bliss, who now rules, has been depleting the forest of trees to build huge fortresses and palaces and many things associated with roads and bridges, as well as wood to sell to others for heat and light against the darkness and cold that have overshadowed so much of the land since the Queen’s death.”
“The Queen’s death?” asked Elli, with a stunned and troubled look of surprise.
“Why, yes. Did you think she was still living?” asked Thorn, with a puzzled look of surprise that included one eye rolled higher than the other.
The other children looked at Elli, wondering what those words meant, and what she’d say, and what they’d now do.
“Are you quite certain, Thorn? I mean, about the Queen being dead?” Elli asked, meekly.
“Oh,” he replied sadly, “I’m afraid that I am all too certain. I saw her killed, Elli, by the sword of Sutante Bliss. And I saw them bury her deep below the castle. No, I am quite certain, Elli, that the Queen is dead.” He paused and looked kindly upon Elli. “Does it matter to your mission, Elli?”
Elli glanced at the silver amulet on her wrist and asked it in her mind, with great reluctance, not being at all certain she wanted to know the answer, whether what Thorn had said about the Queen’s death was true. As she feared, and with a visible shudder, Elli saw the amulet begin to glow. “But, if true, then what does that now mean for our mission?” she asked herself. And she then wondered whether Hannah and Peterwinkle knew.
“But,” Thorn added, following another couple of puffs, awaiting patiently a response from Elli, but not expecting to get one, “why does it matter to you, Elli?”
“I cannot tell you anything about the mission, as you’ve already acknowledged, Thorn. Nor can I tell you whether it matters or not that the Queen is dead,” Elli said, forlornly, while looking away with tears in her eyes.
“But, Elli,” said Jamie, “doesn’t it matter that . . .”
“Jamie!” Elli said sharply.
“Dear young lady, Elli,” Thorn said, with a soft and sympathetic voice, placing a hand gently on her shoulder, “I feel bad that none of you knew about the Queen’s death, and that it troubles you. But whatever this means to you I have pledged to Hannah to do everything I can to see you safely through the forest, and that I will do regardless.” Thorn then added, “I would ask you which way out of the forest you wanted to go, but since there is only one way, it will have to be that way.”
Thorn puffed a couple of times on his pipe, which was no longer lit. “We will talk about all of this tomorrow. Now we shall go to bed. I am sorry to say I have no beds that will suit you. However, I will lay some vine rugs on the floor next to the fire and give
