From Gate of Horn, Gate of Ivory

Chapter Three: The Pillar in the Hills

So I began to look forward to my nightly adventures, no longer afraid to go to sleep, or waking in fear-soaked sheets, muscles aching, hoping the dawn would come soon, drifting listlessly through the day to another night of fighting sleep.

I would happily go outside where an increasingly dejected monster awaited to give a perfunctory chase which ended when I paused, and then leaped over the dark hedges to the moonlit hills. After a few nights of this routine, it quit bothering to even show up, slumped sullenly in an ill-fitting dirty hide as to make a token effort to catch me.

Then they didn't bother anymore, and I began to look forward to going to sleep each night to go the place where my dreams began in the hills that were silver and green under the moon. There were occasional clouds that drifted past, and the fewer stars each had a significance of it's own, a place or identity, like they were some sort of people watching down.

That bothered me a little, and I tried not to stare at them. Something about this made me uneasy.

I climbed the nearest hill, and looked around at the top to see another hill and others to the right and left. Going down hill was easy, but climbing the next seemed to take all night.

I tried to make progress, but each night started out on the first hill. No matter how hard I tried or fast I moved the forest seemed to stay the same distance away.

Then I remembered. I could fly! Well, jump a long ways anyway. The joy of being able to defy gravity distracted me and for the next few nights I crouched and jumped with no real goal in mind, just getting the hang of it and thoroughly enjoying the sensation. After some practice I discovered something. If I thought in the right way, or to be exact, didn't think of landing, or just kept from looking down, I could keep going for a really long jump. And if I was very calm, I could soar for a distance.

My landings improved, too.

After I decided I had become good enough to use my skills, I set out one night to go as far as I could, in one great soaring leap after the other, concentrating on balance and direction, heading East. I remember that losing count of how many jumps and landings, and things had become sort of a blur, and I was also getting a little tired. So I landed and took a breather to look around. The hills looked the same and the forest was a little closer in the North, but when I looked down into the valley between the hills at my feet, I saw something very different.

There was something down there, a pillar of stone with several boulders at its base. I stepped and floated down to it.

The pillar was flat on the sides, and looked very old. The top was unevenly rounded off, and there was some moss in places at the bottom and on the stones as I went around it. It was as tall as a tall man, or maybe a little taller. And there was some writing on the other side that I couldn't make out in the shadows. I was getting tired, and wrapped myself up in a dark and heavy cloak that was folded on one of the rocks.

I lay down at the base of the pillar and fell fast asleep. Warm sunlight and the humming of bees and twittering of birds woke me up.

I got up and shook dust and grass out of the cloak then wrapped it around me again because there was still a little morning chill. Looking around at the bright yellows and reds of the flowers, I saw that the birds were flying around some nearby bushes.

Settling the cloak on my shoulders, I saw that it was a deep rich blue, with a soft silky lining of the same color with tiny golden flowers embroidered in a pattern. It felt good against my skin and I could feel the softness and warmth through my pajamas. I went over to the bushes, and the birds just flew around me as they ate berries. According to the lore of childhood, the berries that the birds eat are safe for us, so I tried one and it was sweet and good.

I had breakfast of handfuls of different berries, purple and blue and red, and as I moved from one bush to the other, I got closer to the trees and saw a path leading into the forest.

And I recall going back to the pillar, to try to read the writing. It was very old and weathered, and I could not make any sense out of any of the letters, which seemed strange, like some sort of forgotten language.

Not wanting to waste too much time with it, I went on to the forest path, meaning to come back some time and really try, but I never have.

Since then, I have talked about this now and again, wondering if anyone else has been able to read what was written on the standing stone. One fellow said that it was a warning that I should go no further. He seemed very serious, even portentous, and was offended when I told him that this happened long ago and even though I thought at the time it was some sort of boundary marker, I had no intention of stopping. And he had never been there at all. So I went on into the forest, following the path into the trees.

by David E. Freeman

davidefreeman@yahoo.com

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