Edith Pattou - Hero's Song

They came to another turning and paused. Collun absently ran his finger around the edge of the silver-green leaf etched onto the stone beside him. His eyes fell on a small pile of what he thought were rocks. But when he peered more closely at them, he gasped. It was a pile of bones.

He tried without success to stifle the horrible, unbidden thought that flooded his mind. Ever since he had woken in the darkness of the dungeon, he wondered if Nessa had been there, too. And what if, like them, she had escaped into the labyrinth and gotten lost in the pitch-black twistings and turnings? He knelt down by the small pile.

"Those have lain here a long, long time," came Brie's voice from over Collun's shoulder. "Too long."

"Are you sure?" Collun stared down at the grisly heap.

"Yes. If they were your sister's, they would still have some flesh on them," Brie said, her voice matter-of-fact and still distant. She moved away.

"Yet they are too new to be those of the Ellyl maiden for whom the labyrinth was built," said Silien, holding the light over the bones. "Some other victim of Lord Bricriu's treachery, perhaps."

Suddenly Talisen's random playing took on form and he let out a triumphant laugh. "I have found it," he said, his voice loud with excitement. "Listen. It is not exactly the same, but it is close enough.

"' In spring I am gay,

in handsome array.

In summer more clothing I wear.

When colder it grows,

I fling off my clothes,

And in winter quite naked appear.'

"There," Talisen finished with a flourish. "Can you guess the answer? It is simple, really."

There was a short silence.

"A tree, of course," Talisen cried out impatiently.

"But what does it mean? Could the labyrinth be fashioned in the manner of the roots of a tree?" asked Brie.

Collun had been listening with half an ear, his eyes still fastened on the bones. But then something stirred in his memory. The picture at the turning. It had been a leaf. A mulberry leaf. He stood and crossed to the design. He stared at it.

"Perhaps it points the way out," he said more to himself than the others.

"What?" asked Talisen.

"Where the leaf of a tree is, perhaps that is the turning we are to take."

There was a silence, and then Brie said thoughtfully, "And perhaps because there were two brothers, there are two kinds of leaves."

"This is a mulberry," said Collun. "I remember seeing leaves of hawthorn, ash, and rowan earlier."

"There may be dozens of kinds of trees. How do we narrow it to the two we seek?" queried Talisen.

"Perhaps it lies in the riddle," Collun suggested.

"I don't see how..."

"Nor do I," confessed Collun.

"Well then, let us just choose one at random," said Talisen. "Although..." He paused. "You realize, don't you, that while one leaf may indeed lead us to freedom, another may lead us right back to Bricriu..."

There was another silence. Collun's eyes strayed to the pile of bones, and he shivered slightly.

The light in Silien's hand had grown dimmer, and they all noticed that his limbs were trembling with fatigue.

"What leaf is this?" asked Brie. Her voice was overly loud and echoed in the passageway.

"Mulberry," answered Collun.

"Then let us try mulberry," said Brie.

They began to move down the passage marked by the mulberry leaf, but Collun hesitated, reluctant to follow. "'In spring I am gay...,'" he murmured under his breath." 'In spring' ... spring ... winter..."

"Collun?" Talisen called back to him.

"I am coming," Collun said. He moved forward to join them. "What of this: The riddle names spring and winter. Perhaps the two trees we seek are ones that flourish in those two seasons..." He trailed off. Spoken out loud, his reasoning sounded unimpressive.

But Brie immediately spoke up. "It is well thought. Come, let us look for spring and winter trees."

Silien's light had grown dangerously low by the time they had narrowed their search. They chose the silver fir for the winter tree, as it was the only evergreen they found, and the hawthorn because of its vibrant spring blossoms.

"And now," wondered Talisen, "which of these lovely trees do you suppose leads to freedom and which to Bricriu's dungeon?"

Nobody spoke.

"Let us choose the fir. 'Twas my mother's birth tree," said Collun abruptly.

And so they took the turning with the silver fir markings. As they continued on, they passed several turnings that bore the design of a hawthorn leaf, but they went straight on. At first, the tunnels kept slanting downward, and Collun began to fear they had chosen wrong. Silien was growing weaker and weaker. He could not muster strength even to talk. All the energy he had was focused on the dwindling ball of light glowing in his palm. If the Ellyl's light was to go out, thought Collun, they would be lost. They were all exhausted, hungry, and more than anything else, thirsty. They had finished the water in their skin bags some time ago.

Finally the way began to slant upward, and they felt a glimmer of hope. But going up took more effort.

And then, without warning, Silien's light faded. He had stopped for a moment and was leaning up against a wall, staring blankly down at his hand. The light guttered, like a candle, and then went out, plunging them into total darkness.

THIRTEEN

Nemian

Collun laid his hand on the tunnel wall to orient himself. If Silien was to fall into one of his long sleeps now, they would never escape the labyrinth. They'd die of dehydration. He fought down the panic that began to rise in him. They could be entombed in these narrow tunnels forever, tons of earth and rock lying between them and the open air. He saw again in his mind the pathetic pile of bones, and his throat closed up.

His hands shaking, Collun groped his way back to the Ellyl to see if he was asleep. He found Silien still upright, breathing shallowly. When he spoke, his voice was a cracked whisper, difficult to understand. Finally, though, Collun was able to make out the words "goat's thorn," the name of one of the herbs Collun carried in his wallet. He used it to heal coughs and sore throats.

Collun fumbled with the opening, and in the darkness his fingers sifted among the different herbs. He pulled out several leaves and smelled them to be sure they were goat's thorn.

"What is it?" asked Talisen through the darkness. "Has Silien fallen asleep?"

"No," Collun answered shortly.

He could hear Silien crush the leaves between his teeth. The Ellyl coughed several times, then they heard a faint humming sound. Collun realized that, once again, Silien was singing. His voice was thin and cracked, but the pink light slowly rekindled in his hand. It was not as bright as before, but it gave off enough light to see the drawings on the walls.

Collun and Talisen again supported Silien as they resumed moving forward, their minds and bodies numb.

And finally, almost without warning, they came to the end. They rounded a turning marked by the familiar silver fir marking, and in the flickering pink light they saw a rotting wooden barrier, about chest high, with ivy growing between the cracks.

Collun and Talisen put their shoulders to the door, and the sound of rotted wood splintering filled the tunnel. They scrambled up through several layers of decayed vegetation and finally emerged into a small copse of fir trees.

It was nighttime. Hundreds of stars twinkled above. The travelers gazed about numbly, taking deep breaths of the crisp autumn air. The Ellyl had already fallen asleep beside the tunnel's entrance; Fara settled quietly at his head.

Brie moved forward, following the sound of running water. She led them to a small, clear brook. They dropped to their knees and gratefully scooped handfuls of freezing water into their dry mouths. It made their teeth hurt and their stomachs ache with cold.