B00JX4CVBU EBOK (13 page)

‘Yeah,’ said Turner holding out his hands. ‘I can feel it. I really can.’ The feeling was similar to what had happened to him the previous night, when the girls had surrounded him at the battle of the Scathers. An incredible feeling of strength and power, of clarity and precision.

‘Chloe says that the best modern way of thinking about it, is to imagine a giant battery that’s supplying good Gaia energy into our world.’ Ember looked Turner up and down, her eyes wide. ‘And into you by the look of it. Your aura is off the charts ,Turner.’

‘I love this place,’ said Turner, a huge grin on his face. ‘I feel so alive.’

He was wrong about the sounds, because he could hear birds … wait, now it was more like human singing. But as he tilted his head to hear better he realised no human had ever sung like that. It was an ethereal chorus, a thousand new age albums playing at once. He spun around looking for its source. And then he saw them: glowing, floating streams of greenish light, flowing through the forest, around the giant trunks, coming towards them. Ten, twenty and more.

‘Here they come,’ said Ember, throwing her arms wide.

‘Who? What?’

‘The True of course,’ said Ember, smiling widely at Turner as if it made all the sense in the world.

Soon Turner and Ember were surrounded by dozens of the singing, luminous beings. Orbs of translucent, scintillating green, each shimmering with the lights of a thousand tiny stars. Turner was not a religious person, but this had to be the most awe inspiring thing ever to happen to him. The ethereal music, the cathedral-like atmosphere of the trees, and the streaming light were sending shockwaves of tingling reverence through his body.

‘What … what are they?’

‘They’re called the True. They are the spirits of this dimension. Really, they are the trees as well. Soon they’ll … oh look, there they go.’

The floating green wispy lights lowered to the ground, and as they did they became human in form. To Turner, they looked like tall, slightly see-through ghosts of elves.

One of the beings floated forward and spoke directly into Turner’s mind, ‘No Turner, we are not elves. Although perhaps we are the original template for the elves?’

Ember gave Turner’s elbow a nudge. ‘Like the Vordene and witches.’

Turner couldn’t shake his grin. ‘You can hear them too?’

‘Of course.’ Ember bowed to the spirits. ‘Greetings, True. This is Turner, the Wickerwell Vordene’s Ring. As you can see, he’s an Ellring.’

The spirit which had earlier spoken to Turner, now lifted gently off the ground and floated around him twice. ‘Yes. We know. Such power does your Ellring hold, Ember. He holds within the equivalent of a True year.’

‘Meaning?’ Turner asked Ember.

‘Meaning oh-my-bloody-God, that’s what. Your
spooper
powers are a lot more powerful than we thought.’

‘That’s good, yeah?’

Once again the voice in his head. ‘It means in all probability your power will be needed, Turner. Monumental events await you. An Ellring’s lot is not an enviable one.’

Even half a day ago, these words would have had Turner running back to London. But here, surrounded by the trees and their sprits, he felt nothing except wonder, peace and awe. He was amazed just to be here.

He felt Ember take his hand. He turned to her and said, ‘Not to worry. In for a penny …’

Ember smiled gratefully. ‘You’re changing, Turner.’

‘He is becoming his power. Recast. Transmuted,’ said the spirit. ‘A mighty oak bursting fully-formed from a lowly acorn.’ Turner saw the other ghost elves smile, so he smiled too, although he wasn’t too sure about the ‘lowly acorn’ business.

‘If we may impose on the True, we seek shelter here for a day or two please,’ said Ember.

‘We know. We welcome you. We have created a dwelling for you beside the stream. Follow, please.’

Turner and Ember followed the spirit, along with the rest of the ghostly True. A short walk away they came to the stream: a clear running brook edged with large round boulders. The trees nearest the water, dipped their large roots like people dangling their legs in a pool. On the bank beside the stream, an enormous tree had widened out near its base, forming an organic cave. Turner looked through the doorway made of thick roots and saw wooden furniture within.

‘Wow!’ said Turner. ‘When did you do this?’

‘Just now,’ came the whispered voice in his head. ‘Do you wish for another room?’

Before Turner or Ember could say anything, a large root beside the wooden cave prised itself out of the ground and billowed out. It then split into smaller roots, which reburied themselves in the ground in rows, and morphed together to form the walls of a new smaller cave.

Turner grinned widely at Ember. ‘Instant tenements! It’s like an en-suite.’

The True speaker, at least Turner thought it was the same one, floated over to Ember and said into their minds, ‘We will leave you now. Feel free to use the water for drinking and bathing. There is food indoors, we hope it will suffice. If you have need of anything else, just ask or think it, and it will appear. We have a Gathering in about twelve of your hours. You are most welcome to join us. We will return then to show you the way to the knot. To the clearing.’

Ember bowed slightly. ‘On behalf of the Wickerwell Vordene, I thank you so much, True.’

The humanoid ghosts morphed once again into hovering green wisps and drifted off into the forest. Their choir-like singing began again, and the spirits vanished behind the trees. Their song became fainter and fainter, until all that was left was the echo of the song, or maybe just its memory.

*

Turner was still gazing off into the forest, trying to comprehend everything he had just seen when he noticed Ember yawning.

‘Sorry,’ she said, covering her mouth. ‘Back home we’d be getting ready for bed. Plus you have to admit, it’s been a big couple of days.’

Turner nodded. Sleep did sound good. ‘You’re not wrong there.’

‘I might go and take a bath first though.’

‘A bath?’ Turner poked his head in the shack. There were two low beds, two chairs and a table, but no bath.

‘In the stream. It won’t be cold. You only have to think of it being warm and it will be.’

‘Oh. Don’t know if I need a bath just yet, but my clothes sure do. Can I wash them in the stream?’

Ember walked to the edge of the water and ran her hand through it. ‘Sure. Then just hang them over the edge of our little wooden cave there. They’ll dry by the time we wake, and if not, I’ll help them along.’ She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers.

Turner imagined himself beside the stream washing all of his clothes. Hmm. ‘Ah, we might need some dressing gowns, you know, bath robes or something.’

Ember stood up. ‘Check the end of the beds.’

Turner walked into the little hut. The furniture was all made roughly of wood, Robinson Crusoe style. There on the end of each bed was a pile of folded material. He was sure they hadn’t been there when he looked in a minute ago. Stepping over to the closest bed, he picked up the pile. There was a towel, a dressing gown, and amazingly, some underwear. And all of it made from a heavy off-white cotton or hemp material.

‘They made me new underwear!’ Turner yelled over his shoulder.

Ember came into the hut and sat down on the other bed. ‘They must have heard you thinking about it.’ She stood up, taking the dressing gown and towel from the end of her bed. ‘I’m going for my bath. More of a swim really.’ She looked at him and then down at the towel. ‘Sure you don’t want to join me?’

The old Turner, from a few days ago, probably would have reddened, and stammered out a quick ‘no thanks.’ But the new Turner, as he was thinking of himself, smiled and looked Ember right in the eye. ‘I’d like that actually. Let’s go.’

A stone’s throw downstream the water ran quickly over a row of boulders creating a small waterfall. A large, deep pool had formed in front of the falling water. Turner and Ember stood beside the pool, both quiet. Turner wasn’t sure, but he thought Ember was probably thinking the same thing he was.

‘Swim in our underwear or …’

Ember didn’t take her eyes off the water. ‘Well, underwear this time? At least at first?’

Now the uncomfortable decision had been made, Turner quickly stripped off his t-shirt, jeans, socks and shoes. To give Ember some privacy he headed straight into the water. It was cold at first, but started to warm up as he stood there. ‘Thank you,’ Turner said to the trees.

Turner heard Ember enter the water behind him and turned around. He was unprepared for what he saw. She was only wearing her black, lacy underwear, and held back her hair as she manoeuvred around some stones. She really was gorgeous. He loved the way she looked: toned, sensual and graceful.

Ember looked up, saw his appeasing gaze and blushed slightly. Turner couldn’t help himself. ‘You’re beautiful, Ember. Really.’

Ember joined him in the waist high water. She grabbed his arm as she half tripped on a sunken rock. Her gaze followed the muscles of his arm to his chest. ‘You’re not too bad yourself.’ Her voice low, almost washed away by the sound of the falls.

‘You were right about the True making the water warm, it’s like a huge natural spa bath,’ said Turner. 

He raised his arms high and let himself fall backwards. The warm water enveloped him and he could feel the power of the True in its embrace. He swam to the centre of the pool where the water was up to his neck. Ember surfaced next to him laughing, her dark red hair even darker wet. She was about a head shorter than Turner and couldn’t find footing in the deeper part of the pool, so treaded water for a moment before placing her hands on Turner’s shoulders. She was still blinking water from her eyes, and her wet hair was plastered down one side of her face, but Turner thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He placed his hands on her hips, and as they looked into each other’s eyes, their smiles disappeared. Turner pulled Ember to him and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They kissed. It was long, wet from the water, and for Turner, breathtaking. Going by Ember’s aura which now radiated outwards like a massive solar flare, it was more than good for her as well. 

Pulling back, Ember searched Turner’s eyes and said, ‘I feel like I’ve been waiting for that my whole life.’

Turner was so full of intense energy he laughed like a mad man and hoisted Ember out of the water. She whooped as she came down, grabbed his shoulders once again, and pulled him under with her. 

Then, beneath the waters of a magic pool, in the heart of a shadow world, they kissed again, tumbling over and over.

*

The wholeness, potency and music of creation turned within a leaf. 

Turner was a starlit ball of energy, his body gone, his mind and soul one. He was surrounded, subsumed within the endless forest of the True. He was a scintillating orb of stars, each one aware of its surroundings. He could sense himself, the forest of the shadow world and … something else. 

It was Ember. 

The glowing forest all around them, a gleaming river, engulfing, pulling them together.

Whiteness blazed, an eruption of primal power. Turner and Ember spun, out of control, swept away up and away. Their their atoms an endless expanding universe, pushing outwards, swirling into new galaxies. Ember surrounded him, was within him, and he in her. They danced with each other’s souls, merged and flew apart, only to collide again in a supernova of music, incandescence and joy. 

And then, all momentum expended, they fell back in, shooting, faster and faster, to a pinpoint of light. A pinpoint holding all of the shadow world. 

Turner was the True and also Ember. The light, the pulse, the fullness of life enveloped them both and they saw their true selves. Their True selves. All impurities blown away. Raw. Fire and spirit.

In that moment Turner and Ember ceased to exist. 

There was only one, and the one was True.

*

Turner woke. He was in the hut again. The same light streamed through the roots and leaves of its construction. He listened to the silence of the forest for a moment. The complete lack of animal sounds should have been unnerving, but he found a strong peacefulness in just the faint sounds of water and wind. 

He frowned slightly as he remembered the dream he’d had. He turned his head and saw Ember staring at him from the other bed. She smiled.

‘I had the most intense dream,’ said Turner, ‘I was part of the True and you were there.’

Ember sat up and stretched. She was wearing a bone coloured nightdress the True had made. Turner let his gaze wander down her arms to her legs. 

‘I think it was more than a dream, Turner.’

Turner flopped back and stared at the rough roof. ‘Wow. I remember … you and I … part of the forest … everything within us …’

Ember stood, then bent down and gave Turner a soft kiss. ‘It was almost like a Binding. I feel so close to you right now.’

Turner ran his hand up her arm. ‘Me too.’

Ember sat down on his bed. She placed her hand on his face and Turner thought she was about to say something when a voice whispered in his mind, ‘The Gathering has begun. Follow, if you please.’

Ember turned and Turner looked around her to see the ghost elf from yesterday floating outside the doorway.

Ember turned back to Turner. ‘This is not something many people have ever witnessed. We should go.’

‘Of course. As long as it doesn’t involve hideous hell creatures, I’m all for new experiences.’

Turner rose, and ducked slightly through the doorway. The True spirit now hovered a few feet off the ground on the other side of the stream. Turner’s clothes were draped over a few horizontal roots which made up their hut. He felt them. The t-shirt and underwear were dry but his jeans were still slightly damp. He shrugged. He would have liked to watch Ember use her powers to dry the jeans, but knew the True spirit was waiting, so he pulled them on over his True-made underwear. 

Without turning around, he asked, ‘Are you decent?’ He wanted to give her some privacy and knew the roughly built hut had as many holes as not. 

Ember came out of the hut combing her hair with a large wooden comb. ‘I am now.’ She held out the comb. ‘Wished for it and it was there. Want to use it? You’re hair’s kind of scruffy.’