Song Magick by Elisabeth Hamill Page A

rough beneath her hand, and it
felt no different from any other tree she had ever touched.
    “I don’t feel anything unusual,” she said
uncertainly.
    “Try another,” Mithrais encouraged her.
    Telyn stepped closer to the next tree. She
frowned and narrowed her eyes at Mithrais as she touched the
trunk.
    “You’re jesting with me, Mithrais! It’s just
another tree.”
    “I assure you, you will know.” Mithrais’
voice was rich with suppressed laughter. “There’s only one
left.”
    Telyn sighed, shaking her head. She stood
before the largest tree, and placed her hand on it, pressing her
palm firmly against the trunk...
    And gasped, startled! The spark Telyn had
felt when she and Mithrais had first touched their hands palm to
palm was there, and more. The tree was warm, thrumming with a deep
vibration that she could feel in her throat, beneath her feet, and
crackling overhead: a deep, pulsing, musical harmony threatened to
overwhelm her with sound. Unlike the sharing of senses with
Mithrais, which had been a gentle immersion by comparison, this was
drowning.
    Telyn jerked her hand away and stepped back,
the silence of night suddenly deafening in her ears.
    “What is it?” she said, almost
frightened.
    “It won’t hurt you. What did you feel?”
Mithrais was by her side, his presence warm and reassuring.
    Telyn shook her head, her hand on the hollow
of her throat. “It was like music, a vibration of a harp string,
but so strong that it felt almost painful.” A faint buzz was in her
ears, prickling the hair on the back of her neck. “I can still feel
it.”
    “Well done.” Mithrais wore a pleased smile
that she could just make out in the dimness. “The intensity of
contact will ease as you become accustomed to it. The resonance you
felt last night, the pulse of the Wood, is the way the Gwaith’orn
sense changes in their environment. I was able to find the tree
folk by following the vibration back to the source. Even those
without the gift can sometimes sense the Gwaith’orn, and it makes
them uneasy—the true reason, perhaps, behind the tales of haunted
groves, and spirits of the Wood.”
    “The Gwaith’orn are real?” Telyn was
dumbfounded and could not believe her ears, staring upwards into
the branches. “You can’t mean to tell me that those old tales are
true. Trees that speak aloud?”
    “They haven’t spoken aloud for hundreds of
years, but yes, the tales are true. They are living beings, with a
will of their own, and the Tauron are in their service as well as
that of the Lord of Cerisild. It’s through their resonance that we
learned you were in danger last night.”
    Mithrais placed his own hands on the tree,
and was silent for the span of a few minutes as the bard struggled
to assimilate the information. Telyn watched him intently. Although
there was no outward sign of anything occurring, her newly
heightened sensitivity to what Mithrais had called ‘resonance’ felt
a series of tingling pulses go out, and return moments before
Mithrais spoke again, removing his hands from the trunk.
    “Nothing moves in the western Wood tonight
but us. We’re two hours walk from the nearest outpost. It’s not an
active post, but we keep it supplied in case of need. I’m afraid
that the rain is almost upon us as well, which may add additional
time to our journey. Will you be all right until then?”
    “I will.” Telyn eyed the tree warily. “How do
the Gwaith’orn know where we are? Can they see us?”
    “Let me think how I can explain in terms of
music, although my tutors told me that I’m better suited for less
artistic pursuits.” Mithrais looked up at the tree, and back at
Telyn. “You likened it to a harp string. When the strings vibrate
together in a certain order, the sound is pleasing, and a chord or
a harmony is created. When struck in the wrong order, discord
results. Is that correct thus far?”
    “You’re making perfect sense to me. Go
on.”
    They resumed their journey, and