Lina spent the next day tending her plants and taking a long walk down the road to check on the trees in her area. The day before had drained her. Healing the branch couldn’t have taken everything out of her. Doctoring normally invigorated her. Could it be because she felt guilty that she’d caused the tree pain? No, she’d helped it—the scar tissue had made the branch even stronger.
If guilt weighed her down, she wouldn’t make a good sage. A healthy sage made a healthy planet.
Could it be because she once again longed for something out of her reach—this time not for world travel, but for a man?
Her heart went out to Brad. He hadn’t seemed to enjoy being on the podium, even when his crew had dumped expensive champagne on him as if he was a winning Formula One driver. She pictured the liquid running down his forehead, making his dark hair lie in clumps over his eyes. He looked cute like that, almost boyish and vulnerable, and for a moment, her heart ached to hold him. Then, out of nowhere, a flash of sensation passed through her…. The taste of champagne on male skin…. Argh!
He’d seemed to be itching to leave. For a champion, he didn’t fit the mold. She supposed that made him more attractive to her. They would form an odd pair—she a naturalist and he a sportsman.
Shaking her head and mumbling to herself in disgust, she strode down the road, the gentle breeze blowing the line of trees edging the street.
Her cell phone pinged a message tone in her pocket. Sunday. Who would disturb her on her day off? Rest day, and she still had to look after trees.
Mom: Can I pop over later? I have something to chat with you about.
Her mom hadn’t visited her for a few weeks. What could be up? Was she okay? Stop worrying, worrywart.
Lina: You can come by in an hour. Just doing the neighborhood patrol.
Mom: Take a break for a change.
Mom said that? She never told her to take a break.
Lina: I have to do it. Didn’t do it yesterday.
Mom: I know. You went with Henk. Was it bad?
Lina: Talk to you later.
Taking an abrupt turn, she made her way home to whip up some muffins for her guest. She also needed to neaten up the nursery a little before Inspector Sage scrutinized her handiwork. Not that Mom was the critical type, but Lina always felt like she had to measure up to sage expectations. Did her mom carry the same burdens every day of her life? Maybe if Lina met another “dryad,” as her mother sometimes jokingly called them, she’d feel more normal, more a part of something. Mom was the only one she knew. If she could travel, maybe she would meet another one.
Enough already. She had to make do with her life, try to see the positive in everything, enjoy the good moments. At least her apricot trees had little green shoots bursting out of the stems. Her fingers itched to touch their soft, young happiness. She greeted them with gentleness, and they shimmied in the breeze in response. As she brushed past them on her way to the house, she promised to visit later.
Once her mother had arrived and they sat, glutted with muffins and lots of tea, the older yet still beautiful woman sighed and moved forward in her chair.
“It’s time.”
Lina swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, and ripples of tension mounted from her gut, ending in tingles at the tips of her fingers. “For?”
“It’s time for you to marry.”
“I’m sorry?” Her mother’s words sounded like some historical novel or even a science fiction series from centuries in the future. People nowadays married when and if they pleased. Mom had always been modern in her thinking, despite her sage tendency to be moralistic. “You can’t be serious.”
The dark-green gaze resting on her usually held love, sweetness, and patience. But today, her eyes gave off a vibe of sadness and a certain firmness. “It’s the sage way. You’ll be turning twenty-seven in three months’ time. You need to bring a child into the world before you turn twenty-eight.”
What? No way. Not ever. Good thing she’d finished her tea, else she might have flung the cup or muffin plate at the wall. Instead, her mouth hung open, poised to speak, but nothing came out.
“Why are you so troubled by the prospect?” Her mother was a cool, cruel creature—no longer the person who’d nurtured her and taught her how to heal the world.
Never could she let Mom know how much she hated being stuck here, hated the calling that kept her in one spot the rest of her life. She healed the trees, and they kept her strong, but her calling had bound her to Pretoria in the southern end of Africa, to the one city she’d never left in her life. Though she was forced to remain in a single location, everything within her cried for freedom. Only a strong sense of duty and conscience had kept her planted to the soil like the trees she tended in her nursery.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You know I haven’t had any serious relationships. I’m not ready to marry.”
“Sages may only birth children once they are married. It’s part of The Hedgerow.”
The Hedgerow was the book of rules Lina was supposed to live by. She’d read about marriage amongst its yellowed pages. “The Hedgerow says nothing about twenty-eight.” Lina took a deep breath to clamp back angry words. “I-I just wish to know why you are pressuring me.”
She’d always thought the rule book a little outdated and not something to abide by in the modern age. Centuries ago, the Celtic ancients had compiled it over several hundred years with the advice of trees as old as the beginning of creation, trees that had seen the ups and downs of humanity through its myriad wars. They knew which rules worked for life and which ones were unnecessary. Or so they said.
“The Hedgerow was written for the ordinary man—not for the sage.”
“The ordinary man never reads it.”
“They should.”
“So, what are you saying?”
Her mother picked up her large, tapestried handbag and fumbled inside. Was this why Mom always lugged around the oversized thing that dwarfed her petite frame? How many times had she offered to buy her a new one, something a little more chic?
“This is The Pinnacle—the Sage Order’s handbook. I’ve kept it away from you because it contained too much for you to comprehend when you were young. It’s disturbing in many ways, but enlightening in others. It’s time you read it.”
Tears pricked Lina’s eyes, and she shook her head. Her love palm on the coffee table stretched a thin, shaky leaf toward her. New strength infused her at the kind touch. Never would she be alone in this, no matter how trying it would be.
“It’s hard, I know. I had to find someone at your age, too. I chose Dad because he was already a good friend, but marrying him proved one of the hardest things I ever did.”
“You never told me that.” More tears ran down her cheeks. “You loved Dad.”
“Of course I did, but not in the beginning. Yes, I cared for him, but I couldn’t touch him in that way.”
“Mom….” She didn’t want to hear this. Dad had died sixteen years before, and it still hurt that she would never see him again.
“It’s difficult for me to tell you, but maybe it will help you understand. When Dad finally touched me, I ignited. I didn’t realize the love he’d shown me had made me fall in love with him. You were born a year later.”
“But what if the sage doesn’t have a baby in time? Pregnancy isn’t always guaranteed.” Her questions were in vain because she’d already decided she would disobey The Pinnacle. Who cared what it said? What did it matter if she chose her own way? She’d always done the right thing and was sick of it.
“Dryads are the most fertile women on the earth. When you touch the soil, it feeds your body. Probiotics and trace minerals many modern females lack are infused into you.”
“How do I know all this is true? I don’t even have faith anymore. I’m starting to doubt….”
Mom smiled. “You healed a tree yesterday, didn’t you?”
A shiver of dread prickled up her spine. How did Mom know? “What?”
“I sensed it.”
“I…. Since when did you start working out these things?”
“You’re closer to your time to bring a child into the world, so your powers have increased. I could sense your healing force from my home yesterday. You’re the only other dryad in South Africa, so it had to have been you. The apricot trees in the nursery…they should have died. In fact, many of your plants should have wilted because of a disease in the area.”
“It’s just my normal powers.” Pain throbbed behind her eyes.
“No, Lina, don’t deny it. Something extraordinary happened yesterday, didn’t it?”
Yes, meeting Brad. But Mom wouldn’t understand that. If she didn’t feel for Dad in the beginning, how could she understand?
Lina shook her head. The branch had looked stronger than before, but so what? “I don’t know.”
“Go see the tree you healed yesterday. You’ll be surprised.”
“Okay.” She dropped her hands in her lap. Sometimes the pure exhilaration of doing something extraordinary did keep her going. She couldn’t wait to see the tree. Had it blossomed and grown beyond its nature? Had it propagated to make more of its kind? Curiosity burned within her to return to the rally track.
“You need to find someone to marry as soon as possible so you may bring a child into the world. If you don’t birth a sage before you turn twenty-eight, your powers will diminish and eventually disappear altogether. If you do have a child at a later stage, that child will no longer be a sage, but a normal human being.”
So she still could have a normal life after all? Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful?
“I’m trusting you in this, Lina. You’ve always been the perfect sage even against your wishes. I know you won’t disappoint the planet and the Sage Order.”
“What do you mean the Sage Order?”
“We’re not alone in all of this. The Sage Order watches over us. There is one on each of Earth’s continents. The African Sage Order knows your life and what you do.”
Goose bumps washed over Lina in waves. She imagined they looked like pimples or warts, they felt so tingly. “I don’t like that.”
“You don’t have to like it. It’s a fact, and it’s for your protection. The Order has saved your life many a time from danger and severe illness.”
“I….” She’d always been a healthy child, never had broken bones or the usual childhood mishaps. She’d put that down to a mixture of good luck, caution, and being forced to stick in one place her whole life.
“That’s why the Order insisted you remain in Pretoria all your days. It enabled them to watch over you and protect you while you were still young and vulnerable. Once you marry, you are free to leave.”
“What?” Her voice betrayed her sudden excitement. She wished a blush wasn’t pressing heat into her cheeks and giving it away.
Mom smiled. “That’s if you want to. I know you love your nursery.”
Phew. Mom never noticed my response.
“You’ve been assigned to Africa, but once you marry, you may change your assignment, for your daughter will become the next sage. Once you give birth, you have the added powers of self-protection. You will seldom need a Sage Order to protect you.”
“You mean I could protect myself from danger?”
“Yes, yourself alone. Not your family or anyone close to you. The Sage Order on the continent where you choose to live will protect your daughter until she’s able to birth the new sage.”
Her head spun. Why hadn’t Mom told her these things much sooner? “Why did you stay here?”
“I had Dad. We were happy here, and when you were born, I couldn’t leave.”
“So if I have a daughter, she will be trapped, too?” The words tumbled out before she could hold them back. Mom didn’t need to know the extent of her hatred for the sage rules.
Her mother nodded. “Does it have to be seen like a trap? Look at the trees. Do they ever complain when they are planted in one place for the rest of their lives?”
Her face flushed again. She knew of their love for stability. They’d often spoken to her of it. How their roots and trunks remained stronger when they stayed in one place.
“So it would be better if I stayed in Africa?” She didn’t want to hear the answer, for she knew what it would be.
“Africa has fewer tree sages. As wild as the continent is, it’s going to lose its power if the tree sages keep on moving to other continents.”
“How many do we have?”
Mom went quiet.
“Do you know the answer?”
She nodded.
“But you can’t tell me.”
“I can sense it. You will, too, when your powers increase.”
“So I can meet other sages?”
“No, you can’t, and you shall not. Except for your daughter, of course, since you share many of the same genetics.”
“Why not?”
“When your powers come together, the consequences can be dire. The merging of sage powers affects the balance of the earth.” Her mom’s eyes bored into hers, the seriousness of her statement evident in the pursing of her lips.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“What for? You were always safe here.”
“What would happen?”
“If you meet? Read The Pinnacle.” She picked up the book and placed it on the center coffee table. “It’s all in there.”
“I….” She stared at the ancient tome.
“It’s time you study it.”
She nodded and bit her lip.
“I’ll leave you to it since you have a ton of reading to get through.”
Lina kept her head down, nursing her second cup of tea between her palms. The warmth from the mug did little to ease the cold reality seeping into her mind. She should see her mom out, but somehow her body didn’t want to move, and her brain refused to process the overwhelming flood of knowledge she’d just been given.
Rising, Lina’s mother leaned over to stroke her head. “We all have had to go through this at some stage, and it’s scary. New and overwhelming. Hard to process. But I know you’ll do the right thing.”
A tear plopped into her cup. Ugh, she couldn’t drink it. In fact, would she ever get her appetite back again?
“Thanks,” she whispered to the click of the front door closing behind her mother.