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16. SAVE THE LAKE
It had been three days since Freegirl and Tyber were in the Verdure Ring, and still the Lore Halls seeker could remember details about the giant grove. Her companion could remember nothing. Several times she tried discussing the Sauls and the beautiful horses, but Tyber kept looking at her so strangely—as if she was from another planet—she finally stopped.
What he knew of the girl was enough discomfort for anyone to endure, so Freegirl decided not to mention her memories of the Circle of Secrets any more.
The world had been warm and slow for both children. They no longer saw the Whisper Waters on their left—it had meandered far into the west, and they were headed north. This meant no more swimming or bathing for awhile—but occasionally, they found small streams running through the meadow, to replenish their water.
Tyber announced proudly to his companion “Save the Lake is coming!”
He explained, located at the river mouth was an arch. Beyond the arch, a powerful dock had been built for carrying horses, and riders onto the middle of the water—where most of the homeboats were anchored. This dock was about two thousand feet long—painstakingly built with persevering hands.
Tyber’s Aunt Shasta dwelled somewhere at the edge of the long wooden dock. He and Freegirl expected to reach her riverboat late that evening.
The dwellers of Save the Lake lived in house-boats, and relied almost entirely on the aquatic basin for water, for food, and for transportation. A couple hundred floating homes placidly dotted the massive pool—an enormous canyon of water at the edge of a tremendous meadow.
The Whisper Waters flowed into the basin from the north, creating a monstrous lake. Living Forest was on the eastern side—with massive trees that grew to the water’s edge, leaving few or no beaches to dwell.
The Lake was like a small fresh water sea.
The sun was setting upon the horizon, darkening the giant green of Shadow Meadow into the summer evening.
The travelers plodded into the night. The moon was a sliver through heaven, a silvery slice where the sky dimmed. The trippers continued forth, even in the waning light, as they were excited about reaching the lake.
Once again, the youngsters thanked the universe and the Great Spirit for A-Na-Ho, as riding upon Wilson double had been very challenging. Freegirl received a smooth ride from her mount for three days. The mare was cooperative and responded to the girl’s commands immediately, never shying at unknown objects in the path. Fire and rank smells did not seem to spook her, and sudden noises or fast movements did not upset her. She was the perfect horse and friend.
But as Tyber and Freegirl neared the lake, unusual behavior began to emerge from this perfect animal. She started pulling hard toward the line of trees which marked the edge of the forest—the horse’s head demanding to lead right.
Freegirl tried each time to redirect A-Na-Ho left, toward the trail, and the rivermouth arch, only to find the horse became more stubborn by the moment.
When her mount began whinnying and pulling back to the line of trees, it became almost impossible to control her.
Tyber finally said to Freegirl, “Maybe she’s trying to tell us something. Let’s trust her and go towards the forest.”
“Tyber, the forest trees will block the moonlight, and it will be very difficult to see where we’re going.”
In the meantime, A-Na-Ho continued to struggle for her way. Finally, at Tyber’s encouragement, Freegirl let the horse take the lead.
A-Na-Ho headed straight for Living Forest, and walking determinedly along the water’s edge between the lake and the trees, she took the bewildered children on an unknown route.
As it turned out, if Freegirl and Tyber had made the horse stay along the trail leading toward the rivermouth as originally planned, they would have discovered the awaiting dock had been destroyed that winter, and washed down stream. (Of course, it was not until they hailed a sailing vessel, they discovered the truth of the dock, which was presently under reconstruction.)
The towers were easy to climb and equipped with signal torches. It is to one of these treetowers A-Na-Ho took the puzzled children.
The little golden mare quietly brought the children to the tree tower, and waited. The travelers looked skyward—and then Tyber made the climb.
The young woman held both horses and watched her partner ascend.
It had been less than two weeks since Freegirl left her family Gather. Her thoughts were of them most of the time, yet, nothing consumed her attention as much as the journey she was undertaking.
She bent her head back to look straight into the air, and beheld a very nice young man making his way up a tall ladder in a tree, in the late evening darkness. Tyber signaled the messenger boat from the tower.
Eventually, a large canoe was rowed to him and Freegirl standing by the horses, waiting.
They were taken to Shasta’s home on the water, while the horses remained on shore. The animals were not left in the open, but were placed in a protective coral for the duration of their visit.
It was well after sundown, and the guests were received happily. Many Children of the Glimpse stayed awake, late into the night, to enjoy Mother Nature in the dark. Waning moons, especially new moons were inviting to these mystical people. They honored the night time to relax and Contemplate the stillness, and usually needed no more than a short session of sleep per night.
Shasta’s household was quiet—just what the travelers needed. The subtle sensation of the lake’s invisible rocking was relaxing to the newcomers.
Tyber and Freegirl sat luxuriously on pillows and fur rugs, inspired in his aunt’s living room.
Aunt Shasta was extremely beautiful, radiating satin skin with long red hair plaited over her shoulders. She had huge green eyes of knowing and insight. She was not lean, but broad and well built. A gown like a queen’s, ignited itself around her body—deep purples and soft grays, silver pins, silver buttons, silver jewelry, and silver streaks in her hair resonated with her skin.
She stood gracefully when her nephew and companion entered her wooden vessel.
“Noble ones,” purred Shasta, softly. She was a woman who expressed her mind readily and had very strong opinions, though her voice was always gentle and quiet. She breathed her words rather than spoke them, but had a force that could blow a storm.
Tyber had warned Freegirl not to mention the truth of her journey. The two children designed a story saying Freegirl needed to travel to the Lore Halls for help, because Mount Gold was sinking into the ocean.
If Shasta knew the truth, she would be very skeptical—as any Photopian would be. She would insist on Freegirl’s returning to her clan, getting family support, and organizing her journey more properly.
Acquiring a boat and a boat guide through this woman would not be easy. Tyber’s aunt would make sure Freegirl was not having some air-headed scheme with no substance or rationality.
As it was, the idea that a girl of eighteen was traveling 6,000 miles alone on her horse was preposterous, not to mention dangerous.
Freegirl was dreading meeting Shasta when she walked into the pillow-laid, and fur-lined room.
After holding both of Freegirl’s hands in her own, and creating heat in the child’s skin, Shasta unnerved the girl from Mount Gold once more with her amazingly soft, yet strong voice.
And Shasta had said, “Noble ones. How well your arrival. Blessed is the horse, I see, and light in your eyes.”
Freegirl bowed her head. It seemed like the natural thing to do—Shasta, appearing as if she was from another world. She had the aura of a goddess, and a voice ethereal. She was magnificent, her pale coloring, silky, and her presence fluid and graceful.
“Warm thy gentle bellies and hearts upon your cup, and drink your precious fill, for the next one you may never.” She handed each youth a goblet of hot chamomile tea.
As it happened, it was not a highly talkative night, and under the star-show of shooting lights, each person had gone to sleep.
There were fluffy beds on Shasta’s homeboat, and Tyber and Freegirl were treated ceremoniously. The regal woman’s sisterly massage-givers had healed both children’s week long excursion with a hot-oil rubdown, relaxing travel-worn muscles before resting.
The next morning, before the sunlight bedazzled the water, and the world was still dim, Tyber asked Aunt Shasta about Elfen—the little tattooed man, known as the Rower of the Rivers. Was he still on the Lake?
Elfen was a traveler who visited often with the Save the Lakers. He had spent the winter with them on the lake—and was still there in the summer—a fortunate coincidence for she who needed a boat with a guide.
Shasta knew where his boat was anchored, so she had one of the messenger boats fetch him for her nephew.
Tyber—Shasta told Elfen after he was brought to her dwelling—had an immediate request for his services—the nature of which the boy was reluctant to explain. She did not understand her nephew’s story about who Freegirl was, or why the young woman needed a boat.
In a small and humble riverboat bobbing upon the water, Freegirl met with the Rower of the Rivers.
Elfen was in his nineties and spunky, with the vitality of a child. He was a short man, rounded with stout muscles, and his entire upper body was tattooed. “Ink for every link,” he would say, and then he’d explain that “link” pertained to all the locations he’d visited in his life. He had plump, rosy cheeks, a sharp pointy nose, pink skin where it wasn’t tattooed, bright, glassy blue eyes, and a quick grin. His head gleamed a crown of baldness which ended in a silver hairline. He grew a long silver stream down his back—loose hair hung over his shoulders, as he relished no need to tie it in a tail—and a silver beard that touched his round, solid belly. Elfen was the embodiment of wit and joy, and Laughter was his realm.
The man never stopped smiling, as if he always had a joke ready to tell. He had a tendency to bounce, the way a small child would. His voice was slightly high-pitched and chipper as a bird’s, and when he laughed it was an absolute giggle.
They sat upon his small version of a houseboat on the deck, amidst a soft dewy air. The moist atmosphere bathed their skin in the warm morning. Being near the shoreline, Living Forest permeated their nostrils, with the fragrance of the wild woods. Pines filled their eyes—tall owners of the sky—as the people discussed in view of the woodlands.
“I’ve taken people many places upon the continent of Synpan, Freegirl. I am the ‘Rower of the Rivers’ because I've traveled as a guide since I was a teenager. Imaaagine it! How many years! But I will tell you this, you who dare to venture, this will be the first time I’ve ever traveled as far as the Lore Halls.” His eyes had a great mischievousness to them, as if they were playfully saying, I can’t wait to meet the challenge!
Elfen was studying the map before him. Shasta and her husband sat at the table with the Rower of the Rivers, Tyber, and Freegirl. The five of them were on Elfen’s houseboat, in the fresh air on his sundeck—lulled by the soft movement of water under them.
Everyone was extremely excited, that is, everyone but Shasta.
“A journey to the Lore Halls! How exciting! To become an Image! And meet the masters! Weee!”
If they only knew…
The previous night, as the star shows began, while drinking chamomile tea out of golden goblets, Shasta, a wry one, had tried to pull the truth from Freegirl.
Sticking to her and Tyber’s fabrication, Freegirl had explained Mount Gold was sinking, the ocean was reaching higher ground every year, and the Images might be able to stop the settling. The Whisper Waters, which ran under the base of the mountain, was weakening the land’s foundation. The two clans inhabiting the caves would have to move, unless they found help.
Tyber had been pleased with Freegirl’s quick and convincing thinking.
Shasta, however, had not been. Surely, the older woman had countered, it’s easier to change the location of your home, than to go on a long, hard quest. An entire mountain could not be sinking that fast. And why a girl of eighteen, and not an experienced adult? And for safety’s sake, why alone?
At the older woman’s doubting, Freegirl momentarily become rigid. She did not want the gentle but commanding woman to convince her the trip was absurd.
Again, thinking quickly, Freegirl had answered, “It’s a test of my Will because I want to become an Image.”
Shasta held her words at the child’s reply. Her thoughts were a person could become an Image anywhere. One did not have to travel to the Lore Halls for the master’s information.
“This is what we will do,” said Elfen, getting to business.
The five people, seated at the table, viewed a large drawing of Synpan, the triangular continent of Photopia.
The Rower of the Rivers thrived on trips, maps at his fingertips. He explained to his listeners, “The Whisper Waters have a gentle current easy to push through. We will use the sails through Living Forest, and the oars through the Re-Legion,” he stopped to inquire of Freegirl, “You like to row, don’t you?” he asked her, in mid-sentence.
She nodded her head eagerly.
“Then resume sailing through Color Paradise and Hush Plateau, and on to the city of Tecmessa. Outside the city are the Hell Waters, which I would very much like to... avoid?” With his eyebrows lifted, Elfen had a way of understating things. Using a higher pitch in his voice than usual, and raising the tone at the end of his phrase, he would display a silly grin when speaking in irony. “I have handled the Hell Waters in the past, and they are not easy. I will manage.”
Then he looked at Freegirl and announced to her, “Imaaagine it! If we have kind winds, we could be three thousand miles from here in three months. This trip is not going to be easy, Little Trekker, for in Tecmessa we will be less than half way there, and winter will only be a few months away.”
As Freegirl felt her stomach sinking, Elfen explained to travel the distance to the Lore Halls, it would be best to leave in the springtime. Since the two were leaving in the summer, snow could detain them once they reached the northern regions.
Therefore, the travelers would probably have to stop and set up camp for six months, until spring melted the lands.
Freegirl felt her heart die then and there. She became dizzy, losing focus. The people in the room blurred sickeningly, and her hearing buzzed out of control. Three thousand miles in three months and only half way there? Camp for six months until the next spring melts the land? “What!!!!” she tried to ask. But instead she heard a soft woman’s voice interrupt her confusion. Shasta, with a tenderly deliberate tone, spoke of something not occurred to anyone. When she became concerned, she remained enchanting and silky in voice, though somewhat less poetic. “Not the Re-Legion, Elfen. And of your knowledge, you know. Violence is in there crazy, and disorder for the disappearance of the Waylords.”
The Waylords were Master Images who had lived in the notorious Re-Legion, for one thousand years—practicing mind over matter. Mysteriously, they disappeared two thousand years ago.
After the sudden departure of these chosen Images, strangeness began to surround the great cavern. Storms gathered out of nowhere. It was rumored rank smells, low growling sounds, bizarre apparitions, and a tingling sensation to the skin, when one approached, had developed.
As this strange activity was coming to life, it was also rumored that a lone Image, by the name of Innos, dwelled there.
Was she the cause of this abnormal phenomena, and if so, why?
In time, the bizarre activity multiplied. Travelers came back to report not only was there an increasing number of people living there, but these new inhabitants had renamed the dark tunnel the “Re-Legion”. This unnatural group of people—unnatural because they lived in the darkness—had warned travelers not to pass through. They claimed the cavern was full of dangerous forces.
Not everyone believed the stories.
It is to this place Aunt Shasta vehemently rejected.
And to this place Elfen had every intention of traveling. He was the Rower of the Rivers after all, and the Re-Legion was just another part of the Whisper Waters.
Still trying to maintain calm—her realization the Lore Halls were much further than she’d originally assumed, Freegirl said, “I’ve heard of the Re-Legion. Thunderbold, my father, used to tell me the violence came from Spirits discussing something vital, and that visitors in the tunnel would not be harmed.”
“Well, Freegirl,” answered a very solemn Shasta. “The Re-Legion’s offering is one of madness—a nightmare’s dose, to all too close. And the place is hazy in the Dreamscape.”
Freegirl did not want to believe anything dangerous could be standing in her way, so she replied, “That’s how the Lore Halls are, too, hazy in the Dreamscape. Not just anyone can enter. Maybe the Re-Legion is careful about who enters.”
The older woman, who was sixty and covered with youthful glowing skin, disagreed, while patiently rolling her eyes.
“A haze surrounds the Lore Halls, true…but clear is its aura. Obstacles discourage the weak, yet are no more than a maze of abstract riddles—a tricking of the mind, a test in the determination of the visitor’s entering. The Lore Halls energy hurts those of a careless nature—but never has an aura malicious.
"However, coldness clouds the Re-Legion and suffocates the living, humanity in peril—a pain cursing all outsiders. In my Dreams, I have tried to discover what activates there, what misery stagnates and why. But the passing of the first mile is for me unreachable, within that unholy cavern. A place to be avoided, that tunnel, for something vicious in there lives.”
Elfen loved Shasta. She had been his friend for a long time. But he was becoming weary of her pessimistic view, no matter how accurate she may be. In Elfen’s mind, even vicious things can be overcome by remaining calm.
“This is Photopia, Shasta,” he said. “Don’t we all live in paradise? If we do not conquer this force that stops us traveling freely, we will become its prisoners.” Elfen could not see an easier route than the Re-Legion’s interior, and he did not want to alter his plan.
“Prisoners, indeed. A disease of coldness grows poison, working to the surface, hence.”
Freegirl’s eyes widened at the impassioned beliefs spoken by Shasta. Coldness? Disease? It isn’t just me and my family, she thought.
The conversation was very tiring and the day had only begun. The concept of disease was too much. Calorion, Shasta’s quiet and patient mate, suggested they row Elfen’s houseboat to shore and take a walk. He reminded them, feet planted upon the soil balances.
So, before continuing their discussion, Elfen rowed to shore, where they found land under their bare feet for relaxation—as this was a subject not to be taken lightly.
The Fireye was peeping over the treetops. Five serious people strolled along the shore of Save the Lake.
Wilson and A-Na-Ho, who had been placed in a stable for the night, also greeted the morning with soft nickering.
Then again, Shasta brought up the subject of the Re-Legion. “Why not a walk through the mountains, Elfen? A trail runs a course, and parallel to the Re-Legion—in the Teeth it goes.”
Elfen looked at her, one eyebrow horribly crossed, as if she was possibly losing her mind, and answered, “With my houseboat over my head? For six hundred miles?”
“Leave the boat. Find you will as one comes later.” Then looking at Freegirl she said, “Bring favors to trade, did you?”
Before Freegirl could say no, Elfen spoke. Although impoliteness was rare in this world, the Rower of the Rivers was perplexed.
“Excuse me? My boat has been with me since before my father died. It is a part of me, my blood. My father’s hands, his brother’s hands, my brother’s hands, and my hands built the Mona Fidelity from the timber of the Blue Forest. You would ask me to leave it? Desert it for...who knows how long?”
Uncommon tension was rising in this usually peaceful society. Shasta did not know how to respond.
Again, Calorion came to the rescue. “Freegirl, why don’t you—along with Tyber—ride your horses through the Teeth Mountains to Hush Plateau? I know the people there are silent and private, but passed them is the territory of Brefay. Someone there will help you.”
Freegirl could feel a deep chill in her gut expanding.
Tyber knew she was getting worried, so he spoke on her behalf. “Calorion,” he paused to suck in the oxygen. “I am going no further than here, and she cannot travel that far alone.” Freegirl thought she was hearing her father speaking.
“She is a sensible girl, Tyber,” said Calorion. “She can avoid danger long before she gets near it. We are humans capable of sensing threats before we walk into them, are we not?”
Freegirl noticed how firmly the man supported Shasta’s advice—suggesting the child go alone...to get Elfen and his boat out of the Re-Legion.
Something scary about that tunnel!
“What if something happens to her horse?” protested Tyber.
Freegirl thought she was going to explode. She would leave them all this instant if she knew her course better. “I’m with Elfen! I say we go through the Re-Legion!”
“A-ha! That’s my Little Trekker!” exclaimed Elfen, as he flung his arms around the young girl, and gave her a friendly hug. “Imaaagine it! Guts make life!” Then he held forth his fist and flexed all the muscles in his stout little arm. With his chin up, he pointed his arrow-shaped nose into the sky, always smiling.
Shasta threw her arms into the air, and with exasperation articulated, “Oh…my… soul… Ideas you have none, of what faces you.” Her features were strained and exaggerated with feeling. She was so flustered, she abruptly spun around and headed back to the waiting houseboat.
Anger and frustration were usually absent among Children of the Glimpse. Shasta’s rude departure was shocking—and everyone felt uncomfortable, as they watched the normally calm and majestic lady leave in a blur.
This journey to the Lore Halls was bringing out strange behavior, in those involved.
Elfen gave a cheerful little grin and said to Freegirl, “I trust Shasta, she knows much. But I’ve never seen her this stubborn, or so intense.” He tilted his round, bald head, silver hair spreading over his shoulders and added, “Or is it me?”
The next morning—after a restless night’s sleep—the houseboat belonging to Shasta and Calorion came to life with company from the green valley.
Tyber was the first to arise, in the dawn’s dim. He went straight to Freegirl and awakened her. “Take this,” he whispered, as he looked into her sleepy eyes.
He handed her a tiny pouch filled with the tooth of a wolf, the claw of a bear, and the bud of a rose. A crystal was attached to the outside of the leather. The tiny purse was strung on a leather cord, so she put it around her neck along with Veronna’s green crystal, and gave him a hug.
The boy said, “Don’t be frightened, Freegirl. I believe in you. You know something no one else does. Get to the Lore Halls and find out what killed those fish!”
Nervously, Freegirl started to laugh, thinking with all that had transpired, Tyber's concern was with some mysteriously dead fish.
She knew he was keeping it light-hearted, for her sake.
Elfen was anchored in his houseboat not far from Tyber and Freegirl. He could see the children on Shasta’s deck, sitting in cots drinking hot ginseng. “Hey, kids!” he called softly, not to disturb the peace. “My boat is loaded and ready to go. It always is. We leave after the Fireye rises and we salute.”
Calorion, a fisherone and hunter, had caught a fat bass from the lake and roasted it for breakfast the morning of Freegirl’s departure. So plentiful was their territory, it took moments to find food. Shasta prepared wild rice and the family and visitors ate together.
Elfen and Freegirl said goodbye to everyone, as the Fireye peeked over the tree tops. The party stopped, and as always, the humans ceased with their doings to honor the sun rising.
Then Shasta gave Freegirl an amethyst crystal stone and said, “There are those consumed—and there are those who consume. Let you be the latter. Fare well—and ever there what happens, do not Fear—for Fear is one alone, your only enemy .”
Something about Shasta's deep and vague look made Freegirl think the woman was not saying everything. The young girl managed to smile anyway, and dropped the crystal in the pouch Tyber had just given her.
When it was time to say goodbye to Tyber, and Wilson, and A-Na-Ho, Freegirl had to choke down tears.
Tyber assured her all would go well, and said, “Do not fear, you are in excellent hands.”
While Elfen put up his sails, Freegirl boarded. The two sailors waved to the houseboat they were leaving, as Shasta, Calorion and their nephew, Tyber, watched them go.
Nobody saw the little yellow mare lift her head over the gate, unlock the latch, and leave. Nor was she noticed as she walked along the waterline, following Elfen’s white sails.
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