As We Go Along, Ch. 8

I decided I'd have to ambush Colin the next time we stopped. If I caught him alone, maybe I could ask him more questions. I didn't have to wait long. We soon came to the Dark River (these people weren't very creative with naming things) on the edge of the Darkwood, which we had to cross, and to everyone's dismay, it was flooding, and the bridge had been washed out.

Braydon said something impolite.

Carrington's eyes went as wide as plates. "Not. In. The. Presence. Of. A. Lady," he hissed. He was a chivalrous old soul. I didn't bother telling him I'd heard much worse from the kids at school, in far less dire circumstances.

"We can't cross here," Braydon said, ignoring his friend. "And this is the shallowest part of the river. Which means we can't cross at all. Vesperzo, when will the flood go down?"

Vesperzo looked dubiously at the swollen, raging river. "Tomorrow at the earliest, and only if it's not still raining in the mountains."

"It's always raining in the mountains," Braydon grumbled.

So, we all dismounted. Vesperzo tied up the horses, and then he and Braydon went looking for another place to cross, Braydon loudly grumbling that they wouldn't find one. Carrington sat down on a stump and took a knife and a chunk of wood from his pack. He began to whittle.

Colin eyed me as if he was afraid that I was going to burst into conversation at any minute, which I was. Then he said something surprising. "I'm going to look for something better than toast to eat," he said. "Do you want to come?" His voice was very soft. I was beginning to think whispering was his natural form of communication.

"Sure," I said. I tried not to look too eager - I didn't want to scare him off.

Carrington looked up. "Don't wander too far," he said. "Stay within shouting distance."

Colin nodded, and I smiled reassuringly. Thank goodness, Carrington had looked back to his whittling before I'd smiled. My reassuring smiles are enough to make adults panic.

We walked a little way into the Darkwood. Another surprise: Colin spoke first. "You can hear the whispers, too?"

"This has been established," I said. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You're from Earth."

"Yes, I am. So?" Answers!

"So am I."

Aha. Just as I'd suspected. "How did you get here?" I asked.

"I have no idea," he said. "I don't remember."

"Don't remember?"

He'd been staring steadily at his feet the whole time but now looked up. "I don't remember how I got here.  For a while I didn't even remember my own name. I woke up one day in the Darkwood, when there were still leaves on the trees. I had no idea who I was or where I was or how I'd gotten there."

I frowned, wondering if all transplanted Earthlings got amnesia when they came here. I hoped not. "When was this?" I asked.

He shrugged. "A year ago? More? Less? Braydon could pin down the exact date. Things were pretty blurry for a while. Sometimes they still are. I just remember the trees were whispering when I woke up."

"If you forgot all that, how do you know you're from Earth?" I asked. "And how is Braydon involved?"

Colin's forehead wrinkled, and he spoke more slowly. "Braydon found me. I was basically useless then, just wandering around. He helped me get my memories back. He wasn't able to retrieve all of them. I can remember growing up on Earth, and I can remember most of what's happened since I came here, but I don't know what happened in between. My last memory of Earth is..." He trailed off and turned red. "Never mind."

I desperately wanted to know what would make him blush so dark - he looked like a Red Delicious apple - but I didn't dare push. "How did Braydon get your memories back?" I asked. I had a mental image of Braydon threatening Colin with a sword, 'jogging his memory' like a villain on TV.

Colin was silent for a while as we walked. I had no idea if we were still in shouting distance of Carrington, and I hadn't seen anything edible. The bushes were as dead as the trees. 

He finally said, "He was a magic-user. They all were."

"They?"

"Carrington. Braydon. Vesperzo. They were magic-users once. Now they're not. Braydon was the last one to lose his magic. He used the last of it fixing my memory."

Now it was my turn to be silent. None of these men struck me as particularly magical, and certainly not Braydon, but now at least I understood why he was so bitter, Carrington so pensive, and Vesperzo so acid. Loss of magic sounded... horrible. But how did it happen?

"The Fading?" I asked.

Colin shrugged. "Braydon thinks so."

"You don't?" I pressed.

"I'm not sure," Colin said. He looked up at the trees, as if imagining a beautiful canopy. "I don't know if Braydon really thinks it, either. It's just - the thought it might come back someday, even if we're not around to see it - it's comforting." He shook himself suddenly. "I'm not making any sense."

"No, you are," I said. "But if it's not the Fading, what is it?"

Colin fell silent again. Then he spoke haltingly. "That - powerful magic-user. The one that's making the Darkwood die. She's doing it."

"She?" I asked.

"The most powerful ones are always witches," he said.

"But how do you know a magic-user is doing it? Can that even happen? Can you steal someone else's magic?"

He shrugged. "How should I know? Ask Vesperzo."

I didn't know if I would. Then I'd have to explain this conversation, and it felt like a private thing. There was a reason Colin had gotten us away from Carrington before he'd explained this. I thought I might know why.

"We're both from Earth," I said, "and we both hear the dryads."

He nodded.

"Do you think that's just coincidence?" I asked.

"No," he said. "And I don't think it's coincidence we were both brought here. I don't think it's coincidence Carrington is lumping us together - he knows something is up. I don't think it's coincidence or Fading or whatever that the magic is going away. It's not just magic. Do you see these trees?" He looked angry, sounded animated. "They're dying! They weren't magical in the first place. They didn't even all have dryads. Only a few did. But the dryads are scared and in pain, and the trees are dead. Something is sucking the life out of this place, and you and I just show up to see it. That's not coincidence, Madalyn." His face was a storm-cloud now. I left him to his troubled thoughts as we returned to Carrington and the horses, empty-handed.