I was having so much trouble waking up and crawling out of bed this morning. It did not help that Carz was taking up half the bed and had draped himself across my feet. I did not feel all that rested and felt like the night had been filled with dreams. As I struggled to get up and move Carz off me, the events of the night came rushing back, one memory after another, like storm waves crashing against the shore. I quickly extracted myself from the tangle of covers and slid out of bed, only to stumble and hit my elbow on the edge of the cupboard, having caught my foot in the hem of the forest green shift I was wearing. It was piece of clothing I did not recognize as one I had ever owned or worn before.
My stumbling around must have disturbed Carz, for he pulled himself up, stretched, and yawned so wide had I been looking down his mouth I probably could have seen his ribs. With a great sigh, he curled himself up into a ball and went back to sleep, as if last night had been just an ordinary night. How I wished I could crawl back into bed, pull the covers up over my head, and pretend that last night had been just an ordinary night filled with wild dreams. As tempting as the idea of hiding under the covers was, I needed to begin to sort through my memories of the night before, so I could hopefully know what had happened and what ought to happen next. Since dawn had not quite broken, I had a little time before I needed to venture out. The campground would be stirring soon, and I needed to be ready to go about my day as if nothing had happened.
I was worried about Da and hoped he was alright, and I had a few questions for one flute player, if I could locate him. Right now everything was so hazy in my mind, a blur of disconnected pictures. I ran my hands through my hair and came away with bits of leaves and twigs, the smooth progress of my fingers being stopped by tangles and snarls. I needed to pull myself together, so I sat on the edge of the bed, began to work the snarls out of both my hair and my mind, and tried to bring some order to both.
Perhaps I should start at the beginning and work my way to now. I remember changing into my disguise and the joyous feeling of walking beside Da. I remember dinner with Da and trying to listen in on the conversation going on at the next table. I remember having something hit my foot and having the feeling I should not draw attention to whatever it was. I really do not know why I picked it up and hid it. I found that odd. Normally I am very helpful and would have picked it up and returned it to its owner. I am not sure if I did not return it because I did not want to draw attention to Da and myself. If that were the case, I could have just left it there to be found later. No, for some reason, I felt I should take possession of whatever it was, maybe because from the moment it hit my foot, both the pouch at my waist and the pouch at my neck got very, very warm, and it was all I could do to remain calm.
I remember the surprise I felt when I looked into the face of the flute player and realized that it was Beezle. I could not help but wonder if Beezle knew I had handed off something to him besides coins, and I am unsure why I felt it necessary to pass it on to him. Was the object important?
Once we had left the Inn of the Three Hares, my memories blur. We were supposed to return to the merchant’s house. There it gets a bit hazy, but something was not quite right there, so Da and I got out of the town and tried to make it back to my homewagon. I obviously had made it here, but what had happened to Da? Was he alright and safe? Even as I thought these thoughts, the rest of what had happened last night came rushing in, and I had to catch my breath and settle myself, so I could sort through what could only have been a dream, but I feared was not.
Da and I had left the town, had crossed the open space between the town and the campground without mishap, and had entered the woods, trying to work our way towards my homewagon without anyone the wiser. We had overheard searchers looking for us, or for the silk merchant and his niece we had pretended to be, and had headed deeper into the woods. I would have been hard pressed to explain why I was in a fancy, if somewhat disheveled, dress and not my normal rover clothing. It would also have been difficult to explain Da, not to mention awkward. We came upon a clearing, and I remember feeling compelled to enter it, being drawn towards the fountain. I remember hearing Da calling after me to come back, and then hearing a whoosh and the rustle of many, many leaves.
After that it gets very foggy, both literally and figuratively, for the clearing filled with fog, and I could see nothing. I think time passed, but maybe not. I am not real sure. What I do know is that I could not move even after the fog lifted. I found myself standing in the middle of the clearing, unable to move a muscle, surrounded by four hunting cats. The fountain I thought I had seen was gone. Striding towards me was one of the tallest women I had ever seen, and she did not look happy to see me. Dressed all in forest green tunic, leggings, boots, and gloves, she held a spear as one who knew how to use it.
“You would dare to enter the realm of the Huntress?” the imposing woman asked, leveling her spear at my chest where my heart should have been. However, it was no longer in my chest but had risen to my throat. “Speak up, lass, before you die.”
“I apologize if I am trespassing, Mistress. I, I, I, didn’t do so intentionally,” I had stammered. I am not sure if the stammering came from the fear I was feeling, or if it was because of the very numbing, creeping cold that was beginning to invade my body.
“A very pretty apology, but it will not keep you from the fate of all who trespass these woods without leave. You will provide much sport for my hunting cats,” the Huntress had told me. I would have been quaking in my boots had I had boots on or been able to move, since I was still frozen in place.
“I beg your pardon, Mistress, but I don’t know what I have done to cause you to want me to be a mouse to your cats,” I had said, trying to stall for time and live a little longer, thinking that I really did not want to die.
“You have done nothing more, and nothing less, than be human and enter my glen in the woods I protect,” she told me.
“That’s it. Because I entered your glen uninvited, I am condemned to death?” I had replied, beginning to get angry. “What gives you the right to just kill folks?”
“Because I am the Huntress,” she declared, as if that simple statement explained anything to me. “All who know of me know better than to go within these woods.”
I had very conflicting thoughts at this point. If I could continue to keep her engaged in conversation, then perhaps I could think of a way out of this mess. I felt if I told her that no one had mentioned her existence or suggested the woods were off limits, she might become angrier, which I strongly suspected would not be good for the option of me living a long and fruitful life.
“Speak up, lass, or should I let the cats have your tongue?” the Huntress threatened.
Before I could reply, I had seen a look of surprise take the place of the arrogant look on the Huntress’ face, and then the four hunting cats surrounding me howled, to be answered by the challenging howl of a lone hunting cat. All I could think of in that moment, for I knew the voice of that lone hunting cat, was, No! Carz, go back! Run! There are too many of them. Before I could say a word, several things happened at once. The four hunting cats, who had been surrounding me, swiftly moved to stand guard and protect the Huntress. Carz, with equal swiftness, placed himself in front of me. Once the Huntress’ four hunting cats had moved away, I began to regain control of my body.
“I may have to revise my opinion of you, lass, for it would seem you command a hunting cat. I would have him freed. You will release him to me, and for that, I will let you live,” stated the Huntress. “So you have two choices, give me your hunting cat, or die. Take your time. Think carefully.”
“I can’t give you the hunting cat for . . .”
“You would choose to die over the possession of a hunting cat?”
“I can’t give you the hunting cat for he is not mine to give. I don’t own him. He has chosen to be with me. He and I met when he was a half-grown kit, and he has been with me ever since. He is my friend. You don’t own friends,” I said.
The anger inside me was beginning to overcome the fear at this point. I was tired of this woman threatening to kill me, and while the odds of five against two were not great, I was determined not to go down without a fight. Carz had reached up at that moment and put a paw on my arm, and I felt such an infusion of warmth that all the chill inside me, deep down to my bones, melted away.
“How can I believe you when the hunting cat that stands beside you wears a collar?” the Huntress asked.
“Oh, no, it’s not what you think. The collar is mostly a joke and really for his protection,” I answered, and was answered back with a skeptical raise of the Huntress’ eyebrow. “It’s a long story.”
“I have nothing pressing at the moment except choosing the fate of your life,” she had replied, and so I told her the story about the first fair we had gone to, Carz getting his own fair badge, and that I had gotten one for him at each subsequent fair. He had allowed me to put the collar on, and with it on, no one objected to him accompanying me into each fair, if he chose to come with me.
“If you don’t object to me moving, I will remove it so you can see that it holds no power over him.”
The Huntress nodded, and so I removed the collar, told Carz he should go, that I did not want to see him hurt, and yet he held fast next to me.
“It would seem you have spoken the truth about the hunting cat, so perhaps I have been a bit hasty concerning what else you have told me. Come.”
I really cannot begin to describe what happened next, but it felt like the world slipped sideways, and I found myself following the Huntress down a short path which opened up to another small clearing in the center of which was the remains of a huge tree trunk. The Huntress and the four hunting cats walked up to the base of this trunk, and I do not know what she did next, but a portion of the trunk swung aside, creating an opening. The four hunting cats seemed to flow through the opening, and the Huntress indicated Carz and I should go next. I was very reluctant to go, but Carz padded ahead of me, so I followed.
I do not know why the inside of the tree trunk surprised me. After the day and night I had had, I would have thought I would have been numb to any more surprises, but the interior of the tree trunk was so stunningly beautiful that I stopped just inside the opening. I would have remained there, probably with my mouth hanging open for some time, had the Huntress not nudged me with her spear. The interior of the tree trunk formed a large room which looked to have been hollowed out mostly by nature. The walls were smooth and glowing wood, but that is not what astounded me the most. All of the furnishings were beautifully and intricately carved in a style and a manner I did not think I had ever seen before. The woodworker in me wanted to spend hours looking and sketching the patterns. I could not help myself from running my hands over the top of the nearest chair, and as I did so, a memory flashed through my mind so swiftly I could not hold on to it.
There was much to admire in this hollowed-out tree trunk. There was at least one more level above the main room we were in, for I could see a ladder leading to what must be a loft above. Many of the furnishings around the walls were either cleverly made or had been carved out of the interior walls of the trunk itself. Whoever had built this place and carved all of this was someone I could only dream of learning from. It was with some reluctance I pulled myself back to the present.
Now that the Huntress was not immediately trying to kill me, she had turned into a gracious, if somewhat reluctant, hostess by motioning me to take off my cloak, have a seat, and asking if I would care for something hot to drink. I chose a chair by the fireplace, and Carz came and curled up on my feet. The other four hunting cats had arranged themselves on various benches and rugs scattered about the room. Once we were settled, she finally asked the question which I thought was long overdue.
“Why were you in my woods this night?”
I did not know where to begin, so I decided to keep it as simple as possible. “There were folks looking for my companion and me, and it was not in our best interest to be found. I was trying to make my way back to my homewagon, and hopefully safety, when we were chased deeper into the woods than we would have chosen to go. Again, I’m sorry if I trespassed. Neither my companion nor I ever intended to go any deeper into the woods than the very edge.”
“Because you feared me, correct?” the Huntress responded.
“I’m sorry, no, that was not the reason. I have never heard of you, or believe me, I would have been more wary of these woods if I had. Folks avoid these woods because they have a feeling of wrongness about them. No one seemed to be able to explain why, when it came up in conversation in the campground, nor could the local folk when asked,” I had told her.
“I don’t mind so much that I have been forgotten so long as the woods are safe. One way or another, the heart of this woods needs to be protected, to be kept out of harm’s way, until such time as it can be restored. Do you know what this tree trunk we are sitting in once was?”
“No.”
“It was a heart home to the Neebings, and I and mine failed to protect it.”