Sean Cullen - The Prince of Two Tribes

“Waaaaa!” the tiny Faerie cried as she tumbled backwards, flapping her wings furiously. Titi sat primly on Greenleaf’s shoulder, casting her eyes heavenward as she took in BLT’s antics.

“If I may interrupt your playtime, children,” Greenleaf said, shaking his head, “I don’t think what Brendan has manifested is the Green Art. From what he described feeling, I believe we may be seeing a different kind of Art altogether.”

“What do you mean?” Kim’s face became serious. She swung her brown eyes onto Brendan and looked at him with interest.

“Drinks coming through! Hot stuff!” a squeaky voice cried, breaking into the conversation. A fluttering gang of Lesser Faeries struggled to keep a tray of foamy beverages aloft and upright. Kim quickly reached up and grabbed the tray just as the tiny waiters were about to lose their grip. She lowered the tray to the tabletop, depositing the drinks in front of her friends. The Faeries waited for the empty tray and then streaked off across the room, back to the counter.

“Well?” Kim asked, sitting down and turning her attention to Brendan once again.

“Tell her what you told me, Brendan.”

“Yes! But first,” Kim said, smiling, “try the hot chocolate.”

Brendan took a sip to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts. He’d had hot chocolate before, but this was something else. Rich, creamy chocolate flooded his mouth, filling him with warmth, sending a rush of pleasure exploding through him and tingling down his throat. An instant later, his mind was filled with the most wonderful, comfortable contentment. His eyes went wide. The chocolate was satisfying not just to his taste buds but to his mood as well. He felt safe, happy, and secure. A gentle smile spread across his face.

“It’s awesome, eh?” Kim smiled back. “No one does hot drinks like the Hot Pot.”

“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Greenleaf suggested. “Tell Kim what you experienced, Brendan.”

Brendan tried to settle his thoughts, feeling tempted to take another sip but resisting. Finally, he said, “I dunno. It’s hard to put into words. I was kind of desperate. I thought Greenleaf was Orcadia and I was gonna get fried, so I reached out with my mind for help. There weren’t any animals or birds close, none that I thought were big enough to help.” He paused, fidgeting with his spoon. He remembered the weight of the tree’s slumbering thoughts. “I tried harder. I reached out and sensed a mind, but it was slow and heavy like a sleeping… elephant or something.” He looked up and found Kim’s attention riveted on him.

“And then what?” she demanded. She was leaning forward, her tea forgotten.

“Well… ” Brendan shrugged. “I kind of… yelled at it with my mind. I woke it up and asked it to help me. That’s when that crazy tree grabbed Greenleaf. You know the rest.”^ 24

Kim’s head snapped toward Greenleaf. “I thought he made the roots grow around you. That is possible with the Green Art.”

“No,” Greenleaf said. “He didn’t cause any new growth. I believe he spoke to the tree itself.”

“But… ” Kim was flabbergasted. “That’s impossible!”

“I saw him do it,” Greenleaf insisted. “Furthermore, I don’t believe he merely spoke to the tree. I believe he Compelled the tree to protect him.”

Kim stared, her mouth open in surprise.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Brendan interjected. “What’s the big deal? So I talked to a tree. So what? I talk to birds and bugs and stuff. What’s the difference?”

Kim leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “There’s a big difference. A huge difference.” She sighed, frowned, and looked around the room. At last, she grinned and reached up to unhook a hanging ivy plant from its place above the table. Setting it on the tabletop, she lovingly ran her fingers through the trailing leaves. “The Green Art. An adept can use it to influence plants. That means I can change growing things. I can make them grow.” She laid a hand on the handle of her field hockey stick while closing her eyes. As Brendan watched, the ivy began to sprout and grow. Tendrils of vine wrapped themselves around her fingers. It was like watching the time-lapse films of growing plants they showed on the science channel. New stems unfurled from the pot. The stems sprouted new leaves, and within a few seconds, Kim’s hand was completely covered by a drapery of new growth. “I can make them die back.” The leaves began to curl and shrink. The stems shortened and disappeared. The plant withdrew into itself until only a single branch sprouted from the top of the pot, drooping forlornly into space with a scraggle of yellowed leaves. “That’s about as far as it goes. I can make plants grow, cultivate them, and even heal them. That’s what the Green Art is in a nutshell.”

“So?” Brendan was still confused. “What’s the point? That’s what I did, isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” Kim said emphatically. “You talked to the tree! You just don’t understand the significance of what you’ve done.”

Brendan didn’t know how to react. He hadn’t thought about what he was doing at the time-he’d just done it. Ever since he’d first learned of his true identity, he’d been experiencing similar things. He heard the voice of the wind, and sometimes plants and trees, and there had been the weird incident with the Snoring Rock, too.^ 25 He was about to open his mouth to tell them about how the rock had spoken to him, but something made him keep quiet. They were already freaking out about the tree: he didn’t need any more grief at the moment.

“So, I don’t understand,” Brendan grumbled. “What’s new? I’m in a state of almost permanent confusion.”

“You don’t get what we’re saying,” Kim insisted heatedly.

Greenleaf laid a calming hand on Kim’s arm. “How could he? He hardly knows what he’s doing. He hasn’t had the benefit of growing up with his powers the way we all have.” Greenleaf turned his attention to Brendan. “Brendan, a gift like yours is vanishingly rare. I’m not sure if anyone has ever had the ability to speak directly to trees. Not since the old times. Perhaps Pukh… or the Old Man.”

Brendan sat up. “Who? And Who?”

Greenleaf frowned, a cloud crossing his features. “Pukh is one of the Ancient Faeries, born before the Pact was struck, and a leader of the Dark Ones who fought to enslave the Humans. He was given the choice of imprisonment or surrender. He chose surrender and founded a realm he called Tir na nOg, the Everlasting Lands. He lives there with other Fair Folk who dislike living among Humans.”

“And the Old Man?” Brendan prompted. His mind went back to the old Faerie he’d seen just a moment ago.

“Let’s not dwell on the past. Suffice it to say that according to legend, the True Ancients had the gift. They were in tune with the universe in a way we aren’t today. Much has been lost. You appear to have a sensitivity. Nowadays, the trees have retreated so far into themselves that they have become impossible to rouse. Today, you seem to have reached in and woken that tree up.”

Brendan groaned. “Oh great! Now I’ve done something else that makes me weird. Y’know, I thought I was a misfit in the Human world. Here’s another excuse for me to stick out like a sore thumb in the Faerie world, too. Will I ever get a break?”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, can you?” Kim said, shaking her head.

Greenleaf chuckled. “Believe me, every Faerie would give anything to have your problems. Seriously, you have discovered an amazing new gift. You mustn’t feel that it’s a bad thing. Unfortunately, we will have to work much harder if we hope to have you ready in time.”

Brendan stopped in the middle of spooning whipped cream out of his mug. “In time for what?”