Yellowhair: An Elf Hollow Prequel

TWELVE | The Camp

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Camp

"It is not by chance you bring her here." Krendal had returned from the inside of his cave. "The fates have willed more than you sense." He looked at the girl, now unconscious with sleep.

Thadiac was not fully paying attention, "Did not her lips move? I swore I heard her try to say a clear word." He was still keeping his rhythm, now deep in thought, pacing back and forth across the open space of the hole in the woods that was Krendal Offshaw's place where he lived—and, of course, his fine garden and private apothecary.

The man called Offshaw, sharpened his voice. "You each play a role in your futures yet."

Thadiac's eyes suddenly looked to the herbalist's face, in something akin to quick revelation and then in a warm moment of awareness, he conceded. "Humph. Sometimes, when I listen to you, I forget who's the wizard." He put a comforting hand on the herbalist's back. He laughed, gladly distracted. "Yes, I didn't see it. You've made your point."

Krendal walked back towards the cave. "You can now watch her. I have things to do. She's comfortable for this moment. You'll need to play out your role, as you are going to be shown," Krendal called back over his shoulder.

Thadiac sighed and nodded, frowning, "I was looking for answers." He mused. He was thinking of his earlier hillside communion with Truth. The child. She did interrupt at the point of my apposite query. Is this happenstance or—is this the response? His face had changed. He peered down at the girl with new surprise and sought out possibilities. He searched in her face. What gifts have you brought, Lass? What would you tell me? The girl moaned in pain. Her skin looked quite pale.

Given his instincts, the potent force that lived inside Thadiac's chest moved with his heart. And his heart, in turn, grew warmer toward the small child. His power now moved out of his arms to encompass everything surrounding Qello, easing her pain. As he did, Thadiac caught a quiet inner whisper of wings off in the distance, just at the point his consciousness crossed with the girl's. His head tilted in query, eyes tuning in. And he brought his vision of her deep inner space into his own mind.

His vision cleared, slowly at first. Thadiac saw the lump, and the mud, then the raging river—a hand—The woman—is hurt! His magical instincts called out through the All.

Thadiac dropped flat onto the ground into deep trance, dust rising. His mind tore free and then he was flying. He focused—the mud on the river, where her mother must be. He called out for help, pushing his hands hard, down into the earth. He heard the hawk cry and the voices that answered.

A presence filled Thadiac's awareness and then the scene shifted up to the sky. "My hawk has eyes there," a powerful voice spoke out of the silence and into Thadiac's mind.

Another scream and the buzzards had scattered—a glint and a gleam—orange beak, flit of an eye. The hawk was there and, No, it's no ordinary hawk of the earth. This is the voice and the power of some further talent—but familiar—or something else? As his consciousness scanned, Thadiac reached out in a whisper. "And I'm with the child," he answered back.

There was a pause and then the voice echoed, "And what is it she is the answer to?" The voice had been watching. Thadiac's mind swirled with visions. He saw what the child saw. The knowing thoughts answered him out of the All. And then he saw something, someone—the woman. She talked to the child. She entered the girl's dream.

Thadiac fought for control in being with Qello. What troubles you child? Who are you seeing? Then, he knew who the female presence was—it was her mother. Now, with a flash of huge dark wings, above her, the woman spoke with love to her child.