Brian Rathbone - The Dawning of Power

The mental image did not last long, though, as they soon came on a crumbled section of stair, which was barely passable. Perhaps fate did not wish to speed her trip after all, Catrin thought, laughing at herself. They managed to negotiate the treacherous section of the stair with a bit of help from each other, but none of them looked forward to climbing back down. The remainder of the climb proved to be fairly easy, and they reached the top of the cliff unscathed.

Moving west, they searched for the trail Catrin's father said they would find. Seeing no obvious breaks in the tree line, they moved along it, peering through the branches. Ahead of them, a buck emerged from the forest, his ears flicking forward and back, as if he sensed them. With a snort, he bounded back into the woods, disappearing from view but aiding them nonetheless. As they neared the spot where he had been, a trail materialized within the outer barrier of leaves.

Catrin led them into the forest, following the narrow trail. The canopy of leaves blocked much of the sunlight, and they moved within a shady world that was filled with life. Deer moved almost silently through the woods, while smaller animals ran through the leaves with wild abandon. Squirrels at play sounded like a herd of beasts crashing through the undergrowth. Colorful birds flitted from branch to branch, their varied warbles filling the air.

Menacing spiders had built elaborate webs that spanned open areas between trees. When Catrin walked into one of the clinging webs, she thought she felt its occupant land in her hair, and she gave the boys a good laugh while she tried to shed the imagined spider. Afterward she armed herself with a long stick, which she waved in front of her like a wand, clearing the webs as she walked.

The sound of the waterfall faded into the distance, and Catrin picked up the hint of a noisy brook. She knew a stream ran near the grove, and she wondered if it was the same one. The incline grew steep, and sweat soaked them as they hiked, their legs aching. Soon, though, they emerged from the forest onto a large plateau, which was carpeted with thick, green grass broken occasionally by weathered outcroppings of obsidian rock. Emerald moss clung to the megaliths, marbling their surface, as the land slowly reclaimed the masses of stone.

Ancient and immense, the greatoaks were unmistakable in the distance, towering above the tallest elm. Unlike any trees they had ever seen, the greatoaks soared into the sky, their tops obscured by low-lying clouds. As the group drew closer, the sheer magnitude of the trees became even more evident. Twenty-four in all, they were evenly spaced and formed a nearly perfect circle, but each one was a force unto itself. The trunks were so massive that twenty people could stand around one, with arms outstretched, and still their hands would not meet. Awed by the magnificence of the place, none of them made a sound, afraid to break the spell.

Magical in its beauty, the grove lured them, but Catrin was drawn by more than just the aesthetics. She could feel the power of the grove, a place in which the very air seemed alive with energy. They walked in slow reverence, as if entering a holy place. Much of the grove was blanketed with lush grasses, but an irregular circle of bare stone dominated the heart of it. There were no writings or symbols, nothing beyond its sheer might to indicate it was sacred, but it felt that way. The black stone was smooth and level with the grass, and Catrin found it strange that no moss or grass had encroached on it. It seemed almost as if the plants kept their distance out of respect for the mighty stone.

"I don't think we should camp in here," Osbourne said into the eerie silence, and yet the spell remained unbroken. "I feel like we're welcome, but I don't want to disturb the beauty of this place."

In quiet agreement, they walked toward the far side of the grove in search of a suitable campsite. The western clearing was much the same as the one in the east, and at about the same distance, the forest began again. Only the area between the two sections of forest was clear of underbrush. As Catrin searched for a place to camp, she concentrated on the sound of running water and moved toward it.

An almost imperceptible waterfall glistened down the valley wall. The water flow was slight, but it fed a small stream that lay hidden in the folds of the land. The stream was narrow but its water cool and clear. Not far from the base of the fall, Catrin spotted a large shelf of rock protruding from the cliff face and knew it would provide some shelter. On further inspection, it was obvious that others had camped there before, though it appeared to have been some time ago. A bare spot looked to have been used as a fire pit, and a few rocks still lay in a circle around it.

Catrin and the others knew without saying a word that they had found their campsite. They dropped their packs and stretched sore muscles. Catrin went in search of stones to complete the fire circle.

"Would you boys gather some wood?" she asked, and they set off for the western forest since no dead trees or branches were to be found in the grove. By the time they returned, Catrin had finished constructing the fire circle and gathered dried grass for kindling. Chase and Osbourne dumped their armloads of wood directly into the circle of stones, and Strom started a woodpile off to one side.

They left Catrin to start the fire while they ventured out for more wood. The wood they left was damp, and she knew she would have a hard time getting it to burn. Strom had left some sticks and leaves along with the larger pieces of wood, and Catrin gathered what was dry, placing it at the center of the fire circle. She retrieved her tinderbox from her pack and pulled out some dry shavings and her flint. She piled the dry shavings neatly at the base of her kindling pile and grabbed some larger pieces of wood, leaning them against one another so they formed a cone above her kindling.

Sparks flew as she struck her stones against one another, but few actually made it to the shavings. After several sparks hit the shavings, going out almost immediately, one took hold, a small flame blooming around it. She cupped her hands and blew gently, and though the tiny flame went out, the shavings glowed red. The flames returned, double their size, and quickly consumed the kindling but barely even dried the damp branches. Piling even the damp kindling atop her small blaze, she sent a cloud of smoke into the air. With a few puffs, though, the flames returned, licking eagerly at the branches.

"Is that little fire the best you could do? I was expecting you to have dinner cooked by now," Chase said, dumping his armload of wood, and he jumped back as Catrin took a swipe at him. He laughed and went to lay out his bedroll. He chose a spot that was near the fire yet still shaded by the rock overhang; Osbourne and Strom threw their bedrolls down near his. By the time they were comfortable, Catrin had a nice fire going. The air above it shimmered, and the light danced over them.

She retrieved her bedroll, only to find all the sheltered spots taken, and the boys pretended not to notice her irritation. She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at each of them. Chase could no longer keep up the ruse and was the first to start laughing.

He and Osbourne moved their bedrolls closer together, and Strom moved his to the other side, making a spot in the middle for Catrin. She curtsied and pounced on the newly cleared spot, leaving them no chance for reconsideration. Something about being in a strange place together and sitting around a fire made everything seem right with the world.

They rummaged through their packs in search of various goodies, and they feasted on sausage breads, cheeses, and dried fruit. They made sure to leave themselves enough supplies for a few more meals, but what they ate was delicious-it was adventure food, free of restraint and responsibility. There was nothing to clean up when they were done, and they could relax with full bellies. They had no reason to wake in the morning, no chores awaiting them; it was a glorious feeling, only slightly dampened by the knowledge that it was temporary.