The Cursed Towers (37 page)

"Who is the Stargazer?" Lilanthe asked.

Corissa looked at her in surprise. "Cloudshadow is the Stargazer's granddaughter," she replied. "They are the family o' Celestines who live here in this garden. It is the Stargazers who have borne the brunt o' the Summer Tree's consecration these last sixteen years, and I have heard only a few of them survived the Ensorcellor's Burning anyway. They were always too quick to trust those blaygird humans." Lilanthe flushed a little, and the tree-shifter threw her a mocking glance. "Did your mother teach ye nothing?" she said.

"I did no' see her very often," Lilanthe replied gravely. "She left me wi' my father and wandered away. When I did see her, she was often shy and suspicious o' me, and thought I was far too much like a human for her taste." She sighed and asked no more questions, seeking out Niall the Bear's company instead. Like her friend Isa-beau, he did not seem to care that she was neither human nor faery, liking her for her own sake.

As the day passed, Lilanthe's mixed feelings grew more intense, so she did not know whether she longed for the meeting with her own kind or dreaded it. The garden grew more crowded as sunset approached, until every glade and grove was brimming over with the faeries of the forest, each bringing a handful of nuts or a bunch of ripe berries to add to the feast. The nisses wove garlands of flowers which were hung from branch to branch, and clusters of fireflies fluttered around, their lights winking. As the sun sank down into a blue haze, tree-changers began to wander in from the woods. Lilanthe was too shy to do more than stare at them, her feet crossing selfconsciously. Some were as tall and thick as an ancient hemlock, their heads crowned with prickly leaves and bright golden berries, their feet as broad and gnarled as the roots of an oak tree. Some had bark all scribbled over like the doodlings of a child, while others were slim and pale and smooth, with flowing hair all tangled with tiny green flowers, just like Lilanthe herself. They danced that night, weaving all through the trees, bowing and swaying like a forest in a storm, while the cluricauns played their drums and flutes and the nisses darted through the canopy, shrieking in excitement.

Lilanthe watched, entranced. When the tree-changers began to sing their strange, stormy song, she found herself swaying in slow and stately rhythm, her roots lifting and tapping. One caught her hand, then another, and she bowed with gladness in her heart, dancing along with them, her sap surging in her veins. She saw Niall was dancing too, flowers tucked into his wild hair and beard, a hobgoblin clinging to each rough hand. Brun sat on the bough of a tree, playing his wooden flute, then somersaulted down to jig alongside her.

All night the faeries danced to the wild, haunting music, the chain of dancers leading them deeper and deeper into the garden. Once or twice, as she twirled and swayed, Lilanthe saw that a tall man led the procession, crowned with antlers like a stag. Illuminated only by moonlight and the fitful light of the tiny fireflies, his face was carved with shadows. By his side danced the youngest of the Celestines, the one named Cloudshadow, and she wept from all three of her eyes.

Ali through the sweet-scented night they danced, winding their way to the secret heart of the garden. Lilanthe had not explored so far, the Celestines having always gently but insistently guarded the paths which led that way. She looked about her with fascination as they danced along an avenue of moss-oaks and into a wide clearing. Tall stones stood sentinel all around the grove, each topped with another stone to form crude arches. Within the stones a tree soared upward, its leaves black against the star-crowded sky, its roots writhing outward like the tentacles of a giant octopus.

All through the standing stones the chain of dancers wound, at last collapsing panting and laughing onto the warm grass. As dawn began to finger the sky with delicate color, the Celestines stepped forward, their pale robes shimmering so it appeared they were haloed with starlight. Silence fell over the gathered faeries as the Celestines held hands around the massive tree. There were nearly fifty of the tall, slender faeries, but even with their arms stretched wide, they were barely able to encircle the tree. The antlered faery stood with them, Cloudshadow clinging still to his hand. As he turned and bent his head, Lilanthe saw the antlers were bound to a mask which hid his eyes. The thick, white mane of a Celestine flowed down from beneath it, and his mouth was sad and stern.

Into the hush rose a low, melodic humming which thrilled all through Lilanthe's veins. She leant forward, listening intently, and by her side Niall clasped his big hands on his knees, his head bent. The hymn to the sun reverberated through the clearing, and slowly the darkness dissolved till the leaves crowning the tree were all gilded with sunshine. Broad and glossy, the leaves were colored purple and green with a silvery underside so that when the wind blew, they flashed like the bright scales of fish crowded together at the shore. Clustered within the leaves were hundreds of creamy buds as large as Lilanthe's head. As the sun spilled down upon them, they burst open, showering the air with perfume. An excited murmur arose. The Celestines dropped their hands and stood with their heads bowed before the tree. Lilanthe breathed in the rich, spicy incense, feeling her whole being respond. Although she should have been exhausted after the night of dancing, she felt more alive and vibrant than ever before. Thousands of bright-winged nisses flew up into the branches, gathering the flowers and throwing them down so they covered the ground like a counterpane of snow.

The antlered faery dropped to his knees before the tree, spreading his arms wide. Another slow humming arose, though this time it had the melancholy tempo of a funeral dirge. Cloudshadow stepped forward and thrust her hand into the smooth trunk of the tree until it was submerged to the wrist. When she withdrew her hand, she held a long, wavy dagger made of wood, the hilt carved and set with mother-of-pearl. Lilanthe tensed, feeling such profound grief and remorse in the Celestine that tears again started involuntarily to her eyes.

"No," she whispered. "I thought the Celestines were a peaceful people."

"Wha' is wrong?" Niall whispered, but the tree-shifter did not answer, staring at the scene below her with painful intensity.

Cloudshadow brought the dagger to her mouth and kissed it, then she bent and seized the prostrate Celestine by his antlers, pulling back his head so she could slice his throat with the dagger. Blood poured from the gash onto the creamy petals of the flowers scattered before him, and there was a collective gasp from the crowd. Lilanthe sobbed out loud.

The antlered faery fell forward, his body slack. The blood from his terrible wound soaked into the earth and the Celestines all wept, their soft crooning changing to a discordant wail. Cloudshadow wept also, falling to her knees by the dead faery's side and trying to lift his body into her arms, her pale robe stained with blood.

An old Celestine, his face seamed with wrinkles, came and tried to raise her. She resisted for a moment, then allowed him to help her stand. The tears on her face shone with a silvery trace. The other Celestines clustered around her, embracing her and trying to console her. She composed herself and stood upright, raising her reddened hands to the dawn sky. They tore the bloodied robe from her shoulders until she was naked. Lilanthe saw with a little shock that the Celestine had three pairs of breasts. They were all swollen with milk above her distended stomach, and Lilanthe realized Cloudshadow was gravid with child.

The other Celestines used her robe to wrap the dead faery in, the oldest removing the mask with reverent fingers and placing it over Cloudshadow's weeping eyes. The victim was revealed as a young Celestine, his face smooth except for the corrugations of skin around his third eye. They heaped his breast with the blood-wet flowers and, chanting and humming, carried him away. Cloudshadow followed, her horned head downcast.

Lilanthe roused herself from her trance. Elala was perched on her knee and Lilanthe asked, with her eyes still hot with tears,
Why did she kill him? I thought the Celestine abhorred all violence! Who was
he?

He was the Treeblood,
Elala answered, her tattered wings drooping.
The Celestines must always slay
slaughter a lover beloved for the blooming of the Summer Tree.

But I thought they hated violence o' any kind,
Lilanthe protested. The nisse nodded, her triangular face sad.
Sorrow suffer for the slaying of the Treeblood, truly they
sorrow suffer.

Who was he? Why did she have to do it?
Lilanthe gazed after the drooping figure of the young Celestine as she followed the funeral procession out of the circle of stones.
Her lover beloved, her life-mate.

Ye mean that was her husband? The father o' the baby?

Always the lover beloved must slay slaughter the Treeblood,
the nisse said and hunched her tattered wings around her.

What about your wing?
Lilanthe asked.
Do the flowers o' the Summer Tree no' heal? Why did ye
no' gather some o' the flowers?

The Stargazers shall repair restore my wing,
Elala answered.
The flowers belong to them, for it is
their lifeblood bloodlife that was spilled to bless the tree.

As the sun reached its apex in the sky, the forest faeries again assembled at the circle of stones. Again the long procession of Celestines gathered at the foot of the massive old tree. This time Cloudshadow led the procession, robed again in white silk, a child in her arms. There was a look of exhausted peace on her face, and her hair was bound back with the fragrant, white flowers of the Summer Tree. To the accompaniment of low, sonorous humming, she held the child aloft. The baby's three eyes were wide open and wondering, and the crowd all round erupted into talk and laughter.
See my daughter,
Cloudshadow said in Lilanthe's mind.
One day she too may have to murder her
beloved so the Summer Tree shall continue to grow and blossom. Such is the heavy task laid upon
us, and indeed my heart is burdened with sorrow.

Lilanthe's heart swelled in sympathy, and she saw Niall the Bear was choking back tears. She took his hand and he gripped it tightly.

Come, bring me Elala,
Cloudshadow said.
Now I have eaten of the Summer Tree's flowers, my
powers are stronger than ever. This is the reward for the price I have paid.
Lilanthe carried the quivering little nisse through the crowd and across the lawn to where the Celestines were grouped. She saw many other faeries were following her, all with wounds or injuries they wished the Celestines to heal. Among them were curse-hags and satyricorns, and Lilanthe was amazed that the gentle Celestines would extend their magic even to these malicious faeries.
All are welcome in the garden of the Celestines if they come with no thought of hatred in their
hearts,
Cloudshadow explained.
What they do once they leave our garden is a matter for their own
character and conscience.

When the Celestine laid her hands upon the little nisse's forehead, the tattered remnants of her wing wove back together until it was again whole, as brittle and diaphanous as a dragonfly's wing. Elala gave a piercing shriek and shot up into the air. High above their heads she soared and somersaulted, and all the other nisses darted up to join her, till the clearing resounded with their commotion. It took some time to heal all the creatures of the forest, for squirrels, deer, woolly bears and wolves were among the many to crowd down into the clearing. Cloudshadow was not the only Celestine to heal by the laying on of hands, and she explained that all those that ate of the flowers were given restorative powers, as well as the gift of prophecy and clear-sight.

All Celestines carry the sap of the Summer Tree in their veins, for once swallowed it soaks deep
into the very stuff of our bodies. Each generation that inherits the powers is less 'potent, however,
and it is only those Celestines that have eaten of the flower itself who have the greatest powers,
Cloudshadow said.

Lilanthe wondered at her ability to read her thoughts and the Celestine smiled wearily at her across the crowd.
I
have only this hour eaten of the Summer Tree and its juice runs riot in my veins. I can
hear the thoughts of all that are here and the thoughts of those that are far away. My ears are
clamoring with the noise, and my heart thunders in my body.

By the time all were healed, Cloudshadow was looking dangerously pale, dark marks like bruises under her eyes. She came to Lilanthe and held out one of the huge white flowers of the Summer Tree. A rich, spicy perfume rose from its golden heart and its silken petals were still stained with smears of blood.
This
is a charge for you to carry and guard. You must protect and preserve it as you would your own
life. When it is time, you will know what to do with the Summer Tree flower.
Lilanthe shook her head involuntarily, thinking at once of Isabeau's braid of hair. The Celestine pressed it into her hands.
You will guard it well, I have no doubts or dread. You must trust yourself. Can you
trust others if you do not have trust in your heart for yourself?

The tree-shifter brought the flower to her nose and breathed deeply of its gorgeous perfume. The tears which had sprung to her eyes dried and the thickness in her throat dissolved.
Thank you, I will guard it
well.

The child, which had been laid in its bed of bloodied silk for all to greet and examine, was now wailing with hunger and tiredness. Cloudshadow lay on the flowering bank and let the child feed, saying wearily to Lilanthe,
Now is the time for you to speak, if you wish to win the faeries to peace. The Summer
Tree makes all at harmony, and we have exerted much effort and energy to bring so many to be
here for you. Alone among the people of the forest do we the Stargazers trust you of the Coven,
and we have made many sacrifices, in lifeblood and love, to help you today. Speak well, child of
the sap and the blood, and the world will make a turn to the sun.