Sylvan Dreams by Elizabeth R. Alix

Author:Elizabeth R. Alix [Alix, Elizabeth R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780998524351

CHAPTER 12

Ruari fell asleep like a stone sinking through dark water. Gradually, he became aware of lying on his back, looking up through a tangle of branches at the night sky. The branches seemed to be swaying in a high wind, but the sound was on mute. His limbs and body felt heavy as he stared at the mesmerizing motion. Gradually he became aware of another movement at ground level and turned his head with some effort. A familiar tall, red-haired figure walked past his field of vision. Her arms were upraised, and she appeared to be chanting or speaking to the tree and the air around her. Sound returned to his perception with a roar of wind and voice. Her words sounded like snatches of Old Scots and a hissing, whispering that sounded like wind in the leaves.

She disappeared and reappeared again a few moments later, and he realized she was circling the tree. The hard bed of roots he lay on shifted under him like snakes made of wood and wire, slowly creeping over him.

“What are you doing?” His voice came out in a whisper.

She heard him and paused to gaze at him from her considerable height. “You leave me no choice. I will bind you to me, and you will forget her. I must have hands.” A faint smile curved her thin lips. She seemed to think she was being kind. “You will see that this is a good thing. We will create extraordinary things together. Your hands have more skill than your grandfather’s did, and your ideas complement my own. You will become famous among the men of your time.”

“You don’t have to do this. I can work with you like Granda did. Marianne won’t be in your way.” He tried to sit up and only managed to twitch his hands.

She shook her head. “She is a passing infatuation like the other one. As far as I can tell, you haven’t even bedded her.”

“That’s not important. I need her. I can learn woodworking on my own. Or I’ll do something else.” He concentrated on trying to move his hands, managing to slide one up over his pocket. A burst of lavender and mint scented the air as the little gemstones ground over the herbs. His head cleared and his strength began to return. He pushed at the twining roots.

“Your pitiful charm cannot protect you.” She raised her hands again and called out, “I invoke thee, o spirits of forest and air and storm, bind this human to me that we may glorify and remember you to the world of men. Old Man of the Forest, you are the one we look to for guidance. You have no love of humans. If you can hear me, help me bind this human to my service.”

Managing to pull free of the roots holding his arms, he sat up and tried to loosen the ones holding his legs in place. “Let me go,” he said through gritted teeth. Something tickled his face, and he brushed small tendrils away.

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