Emily Rodda - The Shifting Sands

The fish ducked their own heads, then slowly swam away, their tails waving as if in farewell.

Kree squawked and took flight once more. Lief, Barda, and Jasmine followed him as he fluttered towards a tree that grew beside the water, its long, feathery green branches bending and sweeping the ground.

They pushed through the greenery and found themselves in a small clear space surrounded on all sides by drooping branches. It was like a little green room with the tree’s gnarled trunk in its center. Filli sat there waiting for them. He scuttled over to Jasmine and leaped onto her shoulder, chattering with pleasure.

Groaning with relief, the three companions sank to the ground. A thick layer of soft brown leaves cushioned their aching bones. Above them was a roof of green. Around them were walls that whispered in the gentle breeze.

“Safe,” murmured Jasmine. But for once there was no need for her to explain what the tree had said. They all felt its peace.

In moments, they were asleep.

When Lief woke, he was alone. Birds were calling above his head. It was cool, and the light was dim.

The sun is going down, he thought, shivering. I have slept the whole day through.

Where were Barda and Jasmine, Kree and Filli? Lief crawled over to the hanging branches that curtained his shelter, parted them cautiously and peered out. With a shock he realized that the sun was not setting, but rising. He had slept not just through the day, but through the following night as well!

Jasmine and Barda were coming towards the tree. He guessed they had been searching for food and hoped they had found something. His stomach felt hollow. It seemed a very long time since he had eaten. He pushed through the leaves and ran to meet them.

“Apples!” Barda called, as he approached. “Rather wizened, but sweet enough, and strangely filling.”

He threw an apple to Lief, who sank his teeth into it ravenously and soon finished it, core and all.

“It is said that stolen fruit tastes the sweetest,” Barda laughed, tossing him another.

“Stolen?” asked Lief, with his mouth full.

“Those trees over there are an orchard,” said Barda, pointing behind him. “Jasmine helped herself without troubling to find the owner and ask permission.”

Jasmine tossed her head. “The trees are groaning with fruit,” she snapped. “They are anxious to be picked. And you can see how withered the apples are. Who could object to us helping ourselves?”

“I am not complaining,” said Lief cheerfully. “The last time I had an apple —” He broke off, the sweet fruit suddenly dry in his mouth. The last time he ate an apple he was in Del, feasting with his friends. It had been his sixteenth birthday. It was the day he had said goodbye to childhood, the life he had known, his home, and the parents he loved. How long ago it seemed now.

Jasmine was looking at him curiously. He realized that his expression had grown sad and quickly he turned away. Jasmine had lived alone in the Forests of Silence, with only Filli and Kree for company. She had seen her parents taken away by Grey Guards, and braved terrors without number from her earliest childhood. He was sure that his homesickness would seem a weak and childish thing to her.

He took another bite of his apple, then jumped as a high-pitched voice rang out.

“Thieves!”

Lief squinted against the shimmering dawn light. Something was rolling through the long grass towards them, shrieking. As it drew closer he realized that it was a little old woman. She was so plump, and so wrapped and bundled in shawls, that she seemed completely round. Thin brown hair was screwed up into a tiny topknot on her head. Her face was creased and crinkled all over like a wizened apple, and red with anger. She was frowning furiously, shaking her fist.

“Thieves!” she shrieked. “Vagabonds! Give them back! Give them back!”

The three companions stared at her, open-mouthed.

“You stole my apples!” the old women shrieked. “You stole my beauties while my guards slept. Where are they? Give them to me!”

Silently, Jasmine passed over the three apples that remained in her hands. The woman clasped them to her chest and glared.

“Cheat! Where are the others?” she shouted. “Where are the other six? Every apple is numbered. Every one must be accounted for. How else can I fill my quota? Nine fruit you took, and nine must be returned.”

Barda cleared his throat. “I am very sorry, madam, but we cannot return them. I fear they are already eaten.”

“ Eaten?? ”

The old woman seemed to swell, and went so red that Lief feared she might explode.

“We — we beg your pardon,” he stammered. “We were so hungry, and —”

The old woman threw back her head, raised her arms, shook her shawls, and gave a terrible, high-pitched cry.

Immediately she was surrounded by a dark, whirling, humming cloud.

Bees. Thousands of bees. They had been riding on her back, clustered under her shawls. Now they were swarming in the air around her, waiting for the order to attack.

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine stumbled back. The cloud of bees surged this way and that, making patterns in the air behind the old woman’s head. Their buzzing was like the threatening growl of a great animal.

“You thought I was unprotected, did you?” screeched the old woman. “You thought you could steal from me without fear. My guards are small, but many, and act with one mind. You will suffer death by a thousand stings for what you have done.”

Jasmine was desperately feeling in her pockets. She found what she was looking for and held out her hand. Gold and silver coins gleamed in the sunlight.

“Will you take these for your apples?” she asked.

The old woman gave a start. Her eyes narrowed. “If you have money, why do you steal?” she demanded. But her wrinkled hand shot out and took the coins.

“No!” Lief exclaimed, lunging forward without thinking. “That money is all we have. You cannot take it all for a few dried-up apples!”

The bees surged at him, buzzing dangerously.

“Softly, boy, softly. Gently, gently!” cackled the old woman. “My guards do not like sudden movements, and are easily angered. Why, even I must use smoke to calm them when I take their honey from the hive. Even I.”

She made a soft sound and the cloud of bees behind her shrank and disappeared as the creatures returned to the folds of her shawls. She tucked the coins carefully away and scowled at the companions.

“Let this be a lesson to you!” she ordered. “And tell all your fellow vagabonds that the next thieves who come here will receive no mercy.”

Lief, Barda, and Jasmine hesitated.

She shook her fist at them. “Go on!” she shrilled. “Get back to the road where you came from.”

“We did not come from the road, old woman! And we are not thieves, either!” Jasmine cried.

The woman grew very still. “If you did not come from the road, then where did you come from?” she murmured after a moment. “There is no other way to my orchard. Except …”

Suddenly she reached out and grasped the edge of Lief’s cloak. Feeling its dampness, she gasped and slowly raised her head to look across the water and away to the horizon where a faint drift of smoke still rose over the Plain of the Rats.

A look of dread crossed her wrinkled face.

“Who are you?” she whispered. Then she held up her hand. “No — do not tell me. Just go! If you are seen here not even my bees will be able to protect me.”