Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [236]
When they were in their private quarters, Estarra clung to him in a warm hug. Her brown eyes were awash with a mixture of tears and delight. Her expression was filled with love, as if she could no longer contain her news.
Peter laughed. He had never seen her act this way before. “All right, Estarra—you look as if you’re ready to explode. What is it you want to tell me?”
She smiled at him. “I’ve found an unexpected way to get rid of your worries about Prince Daniel being an unworthy successor.”
Grinning because of her infectious good humor, he shook his head. “What on Earth are you talking about?”
“Not even Chairman Wenceslas would have guessed this,” she said. “I didn’t expect it myself…it was an accident. But I’m pregnant, Peter. We’re going to have our first child.”
Chapter 121 — CELLI
Though the endless work continued, a spark of hope and fascination grew within Celli. She returned day after day to the near-impenetrable thicket, threading her way through the deadfall until she reached the central clearing.
She kept the strangely growing man-shaped totem a secret, watching its features sharpen, the bark-skin thicken, the wood-grain eyes track her movements without focusing. Solimar often asked Celli to explain the secretive smiles and the unexpected energy she’d showed in recent days, but she wanted to wait until she had more answers. Even the green priests, with their special connection through telink, did not seem to know about it.
Intrigued by the changes she witnessed in the wooden shape every day, Celli paced around the lumpy, curved stump covered with plated bark scales. The ripples of twisted curves looked so much like human limbs and muscles. But this was more than a statue or a carving; it was alive, drawing energy through deep roots in the forest soil.
“I wish I knew what you are,” Celli said aloud.
The round knots that were its eyes moved. She could tell the thing was looking at her, though its detailed facial features were still covered with an outer woody shell. The irises of the eyes had a whorled pattern like the rings of a tree.
All her life, Celli had heard green priests describe how the worldforest could see all of Theroc through a billion invisible eyes in its leaves. But this was different, an aspect intentionally grown and shaped to evoke human features and expressions. And it looked oddly familiar to her…
One afternoon, as Celli stood in the cool shadows, smelling the rich soil and the moist underbrush, she heard a loud crack. She rushed over to the man-shaped stump. There was a louder pop, and then a long snapping sound, as if bark was splitting. The outer covering had broken like an eggshell beginning to hatch.
She took two steps away, then curiosity forced her closer again.
The gold-scaled bark peeled apart to expose fresh pale wood beneath it. It was smooth and golden-grained…like skin. The large knotted branches began to stir and finally broke free, extending from the central torso-trunk like the arms of a newly awakened man stretching. From its curled, tucked-under position, the rounded lump of wood now lifted up and turned its face toward her, its features still covered with thick patches of bark.
The wooden arms reached up; at the ends, a set of thin branches reminiscent of fingers splayed outward, flexing. As the living carving touched its face, the ends of the twigs broke off like old scabs, leaving only perfect fingers.
Speechless, Celli watched as the wooden hands fumblingly peeled away the remaining bark to expose a smooth brow, then a nose and an entire face. She recognized the features.
“Beneto?” Her voice was the barest whisper. It looked exactly like her brother who had died when the hydrogues destroyed the worldtree grove on Corvus Landing.
The legs of the tree figure divided into two narrow trunks in the ground. The wooden Beneto strained, trying to lift the legs, and finally they broke free, disconnecting from the roots. The manlike sculpture took a single plodding step forward and