buzzing inside my head. The first: “What is this place?”
Tor looks at me as if expecting the question. “This is our home, the Great Oak. Our only refuge from Odon, established by rebels a generation ago when Odon was first rising into power.”
“Odon doesn’t know about it?” I’ve been told that Odon knows everything. He sees all; there is no escaping him.
“If he did, I don’t think we would still be here,” Tor answers.
I nod. I’m sure that Odon enjoys his power. He wouldn’t want it to be threatened by anyone, specifically a group of rebellious part-bloods.
I have another question. “There was a time when Odon was not in power?”
“When I was a child, the rebels were still attempting a complete revolution.” He shakes his head to clear the memory. “Odon is strong, but his power only reaches those who let it, remember that.” He gives a wink. Then he strides toward Dorian, the others taking notice as Tor approaches.
“I think Dorian has had enough praise for one day,” Tor shouts addressing the crowd. “Trust me, his ego doesn’t need it.” The group ignites with laughter and a few nods of regretful agreement. “How about we have an early dinner?”
There are no retorts of any kind as the youths hurry toward the opposite end of the platform. As they pass me, some shoot looks of suspicion. I focus on the ground, knowing that my hair remains just as brightly yellow as ever. I’m grateful as they disappear around the platform’s corner where it curves against the trunk of the tree.
“Sorry about that.” Dorian is beside me, watching the others hurry away. I jump slightly, thinking he has seen the others look at me. Then he jabs his thumb over his shoulder, and I realize he is talking of their excitement over him.
I relax slightly and shake my head. “No, don’t apologize, you deserve it.”
He concentrates on the branches above, unable to look at me while accepting the compliment. “Thanks. Are you hungry?”
I laugh. “Of course.”
I follow him as he makes his way down the platform, taking the same path around the trunk that the others had. As we turn the corner, we come across a building lying firmly upon the platform. I was not sure what to expect as shelter, but the wooden construction is impressive and fits snugly within the oak’s branches. The rounded roof is made of a single bending branch as its sole support, surrounded by smaller branches gathered and neatly laid along the curve of the main branch. The building hugs the trunk of the tree, wrapping around it and out of sight. It’s impossible to see its true extent.
The building glows slightly, and the smell of something sweet drifts past us from within. As I stare from the entranceway, an opening sheltered by a slanted awning, I notice the approaching night has darkened everything. I blink a few times to be able to see Dorian’s form as he hurries forward. A cool breeze kicks up and encircles us. I walk close to him, hugging myself to keep warm. There is a new life in the forest, sounds I have never heard before, coming from creatures I cannot see. It is a peaceful song that grows as the sun’s light shrinks. As I look out, past the ropes into the canopy of leaves, I see a small yellow light wink on and off. I approach the edge, stopping to get a better look. The light is gone from where I last saw it, but appears again a short distance away, glowing for only a moment before disappearing once again. To my surprise I notice many others, and they begin to fill the shadows like many moving stars.
“They’re fireflies,” Dorian whispers. His voice joins the chorus of the night.
I glance toward him as he grabs hold of the ropes at the edge of the platform. His face is barely visible in the darkness, and the building’s light silhouettes him from behind.
I nod, looking back out into the treetops. There is so much I have not experienced. I sigh, frustrated at feeling left out of this other world. I will have to
Tor looks at me as if expecting the question. “This is our home, the Great Oak. Our only refuge from Odon, established by rebels a generation ago when Odon was first rising into power.”
“Odon doesn’t know about it?” I’ve been told that Odon knows everything. He sees all; there is no escaping him.
“If he did, I don’t think we would still be here,” Tor answers.
I nod. I’m sure that Odon enjoys his power. He wouldn’t want it to be threatened by anyone, specifically a group of rebellious part-bloods.
I have another question. “There was a time when Odon was not in power?”
“When I was a child, the rebels were still attempting a complete revolution.” He shakes his head to clear the memory. “Odon is strong, but his power only reaches those who let it, remember that.” He gives a wink. Then he strides toward Dorian, the others taking notice as Tor approaches.
“I think Dorian has had enough praise for one day,” Tor shouts addressing the crowd. “Trust me, his ego doesn’t need it.” The group ignites with laughter and a few nods of regretful agreement. “How about we have an early dinner?”
There are no retorts of any kind as the youths hurry toward the opposite end of the platform. As they pass me, some shoot looks of suspicion. I focus on the ground, knowing that my hair remains just as brightly yellow as ever. I’m grateful as they disappear around the platform’s corner where it curves against the trunk of the tree.
“Sorry about that.” Dorian is beside me, watching the others hurry away. I jump slightly, thinking he has seen the others look at me. Then he jabs his thumb over his shoulder, and I realize he is talking of their excitement over him.
I relax slightly and shake my head. “No, don’t apologize, you deserve it.”
He concentrates on the branches above, unable to look at me while accepting the compliment. “Thanks. Are you hungry?”
I laugh. “Of course.”
I follow him as he makes his way down the platform, taking the same path around the trunk that the others had. As we turn the corner, we come across a building lying firmly upon the platform. I was not sure what to expect as shelter, but the wooden construction is impressive and fits snugly within the oak’s branches. The rounded roof is made of a single bending branch as its sole support, surrounded by smaller branches gathered and neatly laid along the curve of the main branch. The building hugs the trunk of the tree, wrapping around it and out of sight. It’s impossible to see its true extent.
The building glows slightly, and the smell of something sweet drifts past us from within. As I stare from the entranceway, an opening sheltered by a slanted awning, I notice the approaching night has darkened everything. I blink a few times to be able to see Dorian’s form as he hurries forward. A cool breeze kicks up and encircles us. I walk close to him, hugging myself to keep warm. There is a new life in the forest, sounds I have never heard before, coming from creatures I cannot see. It is a peaceful song that grows as the sun’s light shrinks. As I look out, past the ropes into the canopy of leaves, I see a small yellow light wink on and off. I approach the edge, stopping to get a better look. The light is gone from where I last saw it, but appears again a short distance away, glowing for only a moment before disappearing once again. To my surprise I notice many others, and they begin to fill the shadows like many moving stars.
“They’re fireflies,” Dorian whispers. His voice joins the chorus of the night.
I glance toward him as he grabs hold of the ropes at the edge of the platform. His face is barely visible in the darkness, and the building’s light silhouettes him from behind.
I nod, looking back out into the treetops. There is so much I have not experienced. I sigh, frustrated at feeling left out of this other world. I will have to
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