He tried to speak, but his throat was dry and words would not come.
"We have to get him out of this cursed forest," said Talisen.
But Collun was too weak and feverish to travel, and they stayed in the clearing for a day and a night. They began to worry that there had been poisonous venom on the sow's yellowed tusks.
Brie made several more forays into the forest, but still could find no trace of the path.
"I don't understand it," she said upon returning from her last effort. "It is as if the forest wants to keep us here. I know it sounds foolish..."
Talisen was nodding. "No, I feel it, too. Like some evil spirit is watching us."
"We will find our way out," said Brie, abruptly getting to her feet. She glanced at Collun, who was awake and had been listening to their exchange. He struggled to sit up.
"We must go on," he said. "If ... the forest ... is closing in on us ... we have to go somewhere ... anywhere."
And so, not long after, they set forth. Without the path to guide them, Brie could only guess at the right direction. Talisen, Silien, and Brie took turns lending a shoulder for Collun to lean on as he limped along.
The forest seemed to get even denser as they moved forward. The gloom about them deepened.
They all felt unnaturally weary and stopped frequently, sinking to the ground with strength enough only to breathe. Collun was close to delirium. He slept at each stop and often woke sweating and wild-eyed, as if from a nightmare. They had filled every bag they had with water from Silien's dying brook, and they tried to conserve it, giving most to Collun.
Because it became almost impossible to distinguish day from night, they lost track of time, though Brie estimated that it had been four days since the attack of the boar. And still they could not find the path.
Then came a terrible moment. Brie abruptly stopped short with a sharp sound of dismay.
"What? What is it?" asked Talisen.
"We have passed this tree before. Yesterday. Or the day before. I can't remember." Brie pointed at a tree with an unusual bole that curved in the shape of a question mark. She dropped to her knees in exhaustion.
"You mean ... we've been going in circles?" Talisen moaned and leaned heavily against the tree. Silien gently lowered Collun to the ground, where the wounded boy promptly fell into a restless slumber.
"He cannot go much farther," the Ellyl said.
"None of us can," Brie answered. Listlessly they made camp. They were down to their last drops of water and had long since run out of food, subsisting on the few edible nuts and berries they were able to find.
"Lend me your harp, Talisen. Perhaps I can cheer us." The Ellyl held out his hand, and Talisen silently passed his harp to Silien.
Talisen asked dully, as though he could not remember why it was important, "You will sing an Ellyl song?"
Silien did not answer, but began to finger the harp strings. Beneath his hands the harmonies that shimmered forth were not like music as they knew it. The notes the Ellyl found were crystalline and pure, so pure they even penetrated the mande of musty gloom that had oppressed them ever since they had entered the Forest of Eld.
Brie and Talisen both fell asleep.
The music wove its way into Collun's dreams. He was in a meadow back in Inkberrow. The tall grass brushed against his fingertips as he walked. A fresh breeze feathered his face, and there were purple wildflowers as far as the eye could see.
Silien sang on.
***
Abruptly Collun awoke. He saw that Talisen and Brie were just waking as well. Silien was watching them with his usual half-smile. His fingers were resting lightly on the harp strings.
"What did you do?" Brie's voice was sharp with suspicion.
"You needed sleep. Restful sleep. Do you not feel better for it?"
And Brie admitted she did. "I feel as though I have slept for days," she said in wonder.
"It was only several moments," replied Silien.
"You are a miracle worker, Silien," Talisen said. "But why didn't you do this before?"
"It takes much away from me," replied the Ellyl. "I keep that song as a last resort." And indeed Silien's face looked drawn and pale, as though the song had weakened him as much as it had strengthened them.
Collun saw that Brie was gazing at the Ellyl with a puzzled expression. He sensed she was confused by Silien—his coldness one moment and generosity the next.
"How do you feel, Collun?" asked Talisen.
"Better," he replied, though his leg still throbbed and his skin was hot.
"I'm afraid it will not last, but for a while the going will be a little easier," Silien said.
"Well, that's all very well and good," grumbled Talisen, "but I don't appreciate you knocking me out. I missed all the words to your song!"
"You would not have understood them," Silien responded. "I do not use words as you do."
They set out shortly after and made much better progress. But toward what, they knew not.
NINE
Crann
They had been walking a short distance when Brie abruptly stopped. "What was that?" she said.
"What was what?" asked Talisen.
"It was a flash of something—light, I think, only it was green..." She trailed off. "At least, I thought—" Her eyes stared ahead into the murk of the forest. "Yes, there it was again!"
The others peered in the same direction.
"I don't see anything," said Talisen.
"Nor I," Silien agreed, his voice soft with exhaustion.
"It was like the flicker of candlelight. And it was moving. I believe we should follow it," she announced unexpectedly.
"Follow it?" Talisen said. "Have you lost your wits? The rest of us can't even see the bloody—Oh!"
"You see it now?"
Talisen nodded slowly. "A will-o'-the-wisp," he murmured. "Brie, we cannot follow a will-o'-the-wisp. Surely you've heard tales of Gyl Burnt-tayle and how it leads travelers astray? We'd be certain to spend the rest of our days in the Forest of Eld were we to follow such a thing."
"I don't believe in superstitious tales," said Brie. "Nor do I believe it to be a will-o'-the-wisp. It is moving farther away. Come, or we'll lose it."
Talisen shook his head firmly. "I'll not be following Gyl Burnt-tayle..."
Collun listened to the two voices arguing back and forth, his eyes fixed on the irregular flashes of green light. Silien was sitting cross-legged beside Collun, his eyes closed.
"Let us follow the light," Collun said. He moved forward. Brie quickly stepped into the lead. Talisen helped Silien to his feet and, grumbling loudly to himself, fell in step with the other two. Fara brought up the rear.
So intent were they on keeping the elusive light in sight that they did not notice at first that the trees were thinning. But suddenly Talisen stopped dead in his tracks and, letting out an exclamation, pointed upward. They all looked up and through the branches of the trees, saw a patch of night sky. They had not seen' the sky in days, or was it weeks? Collun no longer knew.
"We must be near the end of this blasted wood," said Talisen with a broad smile. "My apologies for doubting you and kindly old Gyl Burnt-tayle," he said to Brie, with a small courtly bow in her direction.
"I cannot see it anymore," said Brie, squinting at the trees ahead.
"Who cares? It has served us well. Come, on to Temair," Talisen said, putting an arm out to Silien, who was leaning against a tree.
As if to punctuate Talisen's words, a linnet somewhere nearby burst into song. The last time any of them had seen or heard a bird was the scald-crow Collun saw when they entered the Forest of Eld.
Through the fog of his fever, Collun felt a piercing burst of joy. To finally be free of this wretched forest! But his ears rang with a high-pitched buzzing sound, and his leg still throbbed. It took all his concentration just to set one foot ahead of the other. He paused for a moment to rest his leg, and his eye was caught by a small red finch winging to the top of a nearby tree. Unexpectedly Collun saw a flash of light in the night sky above. It was a different kind of light than the will-o'- the-wisp: a white angular thrust. Brie came up beside him.