Thomas Swann - The forest of forever

Unaccountably my voice lacked its usual resonance. No doubt I had lost my boom in the company of soft-spoken Saffron. Sunlord craned his neck to catch at my words and I had to repeat the insult. He took it with wry good grace.

“If I had, you wouldn’t see me now, would you?”

As I strode into the forest, my first feeling was triumph. I had accomplished my purpose. I had proved Saffron’s guilt. Now I would wake Eunostos and tell him what I had learned. If I found him sufficiently rested, we would call on the Centaurs and plan Kora’s rescue. Why then did I feel a curious malaise? Why had my parting sally at Sunlord emerged as a whisper instead of a thunderous insult?

“Ho there, Moschus,” I called to test my voice, though unhappily Moschus was not in sight. Even if he had been behind the next tree, he would not have heard my thin whisper. Now I was feeling downright somnolent. I’ll stop a moment, I thought, and catch my breath. My adventure-the danger, the confrontation with a deceitful woman-has exhausted me. I leaned against the friendly bulk of a cypress trunk. I slid onto the ground and fought to open my eyes. Had Saffron drugged me? I had been so careful not to drink her wine!

The little creature around my neck had grown as heavy as a bronze collar. I tried to raise my arm to remove him. The arm fell to my side.

“Sleep well, my dear.” My last image was Saffron standing over me, flanked by workers. Their thick hands were reaching toward me like knotty clubs.

“No,” I gasped.

“Yes,” she smiled. And I lost consciousness.

I came to my senses in a room whose walls were glazed with wax and whose sole furnishings consisted of two leopard-skin rugs, one of them under my prone, aching body, one of them under Kora.

“Kora!”

At least my voice had returned.

She stirred fitfully but she did not open her eyes. She was deathly pale; her green-gold hair lay in wild confusion about her face; her lips had turned blue. I knew the signs. She was not drugged, she was suffering the prolonged separation from her tree. The vital forces were slowly draining out of her.

Saffron, flanked by two workers, stood in the door. “How long does your friend have?” she asked.

“Without her tree, you mean? Five or six days. Seven at most. She’ll weaken each day.”

“And so will you, I presume. We’ve had her for three days and she’s already peaked. I imagine you’ll hold up better-because of your, how shall I say, bovinity.”

“If you mean I’m fat, why don’t you say so?” I snapped. “My lovers call me voluptuous, but you wouldn’t know about that with your skinny little frame.” I tried to struggle to my feet but sank back onto the skin. “Why don’t you let Kora go? You have her pendant.”

“Aren’t you interested in how I captured you?”

“You must have drugged me. I don’t know how, since I didn’t drink your wine.”

“No, and I had to lend you one of my friends.”

I was slow to grasp her meaning. “The Strige?”

“Exactly. He relieved you of some excess blood. You see, his tongue is like a delicate needle. He inserted it into your neck without your feeling a thing and drew forth just enough blood to make you faint. Fortunately for you, we removed him before he had drunk his fill.”

“Why doesn’t he drink your blood?”

“It’s yellow. He only likes green or red. You see, he’s very particular, the dear little fellow.”

I was quick with questions. “And Kora. Why did you buy her from the Panisci?”

“They captured her for me in the first place. For a price, of course.”

“But why?”

“Bait.”

“For Eunostos!” I shuddered. “You had her captured to bait him into your hive.”

“Exactly. I entered into negotiations with a Paniscus chief-Phlebas, is he called? But he refused to deliver Eunostos without maiming him. Said it was quite impossible. He suggested that Kora would be easier handling and accomplish the same purpose.”

“But what do you want with a harmless Minotaur calf?” As if I needed to ask!

“A young bull, I would say. Have you noticed his horns? The best drone is barely adequate as a lover. Consider the one you met, Sunlord. Would he satisfy you?”

“I would rather remain a virgin than give him a try.”

“Exactly. However, if a Dryad can mate with a Minotaur, why not a Thria? A full-grown Minotaur, to be sure, would be a trifle large for me. At the very least, he would muss my wings. But Eunostos is only six feet. It will be interesting to see what offspring he sires. Something more animated than a worker and more manly than a drone, I trust. Perhaps a winged bull like those you see in Hittite monuments.”

“But isn’t it true that the drone who mates with a queen is”-and my voice fell to a quaver-“doomed?”

“Our mating is somewhat turbulent. The drone is generally-and forgive my coarseness, but then I can’t shock you, can I? — gutted.”

I had partially recovered from my loss of blood to the Strige and not yet begun to feel the effects of separation from my tree. Thus, I was still alert if not exactly vigorous. But Kora, poor thing, was fading like a plucked chrysanthemum. Marmoreal whiteness had become unhealthy pallor, and the solar twinklings had departed from her hair. Her movements were slow, lethargic, labored. She needed immediate sustenance.

The waxen walls thudded dully but failed to crack when I smote them with my fist. The wooden door, bolted from the outside, creaked but did not yield beneath the weight of my shoulder. Our hastily constructed room was a constricting prison. Well, then, they must come to us. I stamped on the earthen floor and let out the roar of a wounded she-bear. Almost at once the flutter of wings announced the approach of visitors. Saffron, flanked by two gray workers, glared at me from the doorway. With my somewhat whimsical fancy, I pictured her as honey poured between slices of wheaten bread and imagined the three of them being devoured by a Cyclops.

“Are you trying to bring down the walls with your bellowing, you old cow?”

“I’m a Dryad, not a female Minotaur. There’s no such thing. My friend is hungry and so am I.” The workers were armed with bamboo spears, like giant stingers, narrowed to lethal points.

“Honey and pollen tea? Sorry, my dear, the offer is withdrawn. Or perhaps the partridge you brought me? It would hardly be gracious for a guest to eat her own gift. Besides, I’ve eaten it myself, and it was quite palatable. That’s more than I can say for the acorns. I almost broke a tooth on the first one I bit.”

“If there are any left,” Kora began.

I hastened to interrupt her. If Saffron suspected that we craved acorns, she would feed them to the squirrels. “I expect they were a little stale. Honey then? Pollen bread?” I pleaded.

“Food is in short supply while my workers are building the hive. Why should I waste it on temporary guests?”

“If we die too soon, you won’t be able to show us to Eunostos and have your way with him.”

“My beauty and my wiles should suffice.”

“Not if he thinks you’ve killed us.”

“I’ll simply tell him you’re my captives. I don’t have to say whether you’re dead or alive.”

“He’s been on his own for a year and he isn’t easily fooled. You’d better keep us handy in case you need some proof.”

She managed to scowl without wrinkling her flawless forehead. Her mouth curved down like an overturned bowl.

“Oh, very well, I guess I can spare you something.” The bowl righted itself. “I’ll send you a special dinner before I call on your friend.”

Special dinner. Perhaps she intended to poison us.

“Never mind,” I said to Kora when Saffron had left the room. “Eunostos will come looking for us. Did you know he’s been scouring the forest ever since you disappeared? He got himself beaten up on your account.”