Son of Thunder - Murray J. D. Leeder [44]
The year was well into Marpenoth, the month of leaf fall, and even this magically-charged wood showed the impact of the season. The ground was covered with coppery fallen leaves and many of the limbs above were bare. The autumn would give way to another bitter northern winter, like so many the Thunderbeasts had endured. This time, though, the tribe feared the winter might be different, that the tribe might not last till spring. Winter never failed to cull the weak.
They walked with caution across the forest floor, which lay covered in moss and fallen leaves, scarcely daring to disturb a tree branch lest the wood's masters be offended. Ahead, the solid ground became moist and marshy, and revealed a row of small pools, covered in lily pads and alive with jumping frogs.
"These were put here deliberately," Thanar said.
"Have you been here before?" asked Kellin.
"No. But how could they be otherwise? Look how even they are. The treants have placed them here so they can use the water against fires."
"The treants," repeated Keirkrad. "We're truly to put our faith in such creatures as trees that walk?"
"Perhaps they're listening to you even now," Thanar said. "There's no telling which of these trees might be a silent treant. This is their wood, shaman Seventoes, and they are aware of everything that happens herein." Thanar was not a worshiper of Uthgar and was less intimidated by Keirkrad than his companions.
"Let them watch," said Keirkrad, casting wary glances at the oaks around them. "All we need from them is our passage."
"No," said Thluna quietly. Contradicting his elder and shaman was not in his nature, and it showed in his voice. "We need more than passage. We need the treants' help."
They pressed on, and in time the woods grew darker, damper, and cooler. The only light was that which flickered down from the treetops, now looming so high above. They heard occasional rustlings from the underbrush and saw flashes of movement in the periphery of their vision, and wondered whether they detected animals or some intelligent inhabitant of the woods. The remaining light faded as the foliage grew thicker, and the forest around them gradually turned from green to blue. The color was not that of the trees, but of the light reflecting off strange bloblike forms on the ground and on the bark of trees, so many that they carpeted the forest as far as the eye could see. Thanar kneeled to inspect one of the blobs and marveled that it was slowly moving across the forest's mossy floor.
"What is it?" asked Thluna.
"Some type of fungus," said Thanar. "I've never seen anything like it. It is told that the treant Turlang has made a home in his wood for many animals and plants at risk in other parts of the High Forest-these creatures may be among them."
"In that case," said Vell, "I recommend we avoid stepping on them."
This was the first he had spoken all day, and all eyes turned to him. A few breaths later, everyone broke out laughing. Uthgardt belly laughs shook leaves from the trees. It was a relief to all to hear Vell make a joke.
They walked on through the strange blue-tinted wood, following hills and ravines until they came to a strange clearing where daylight once again greeted them. They found themselves at the foot of a massive oak that dwarfed all the other trees they had seen. Its great gnarly roots twisted high above the ground as if they were ready to rise up and walk. Although they had prepared themselves for the unexpected, the Uthgardt still jumped in shock as they spotted a craggy face staring at them from high up on the tree trunk.
"Who dares test the patience of my kind?" the treant asked. Its voice was deep, low, and rich with age. "Who intrudes on our domain?"
Thluna stepped forward. "We beg your forgiveness, noble Turlang…"
"I am not Turlang!" the treant rumbled, thrashing thick branches, gnarled and ancient, that suggested arms. Roots rose from the