Toby and the Secrets of the Tree
As Norz had known deep down for some time, Nils had gone over to the side of the enemy.
On the first day, he had refused to believe it.
It was an evening in the middle of autumn, and Norz was eating supper in the open air with big Solken, his oldest friend. Despite its being November, a warmish wind was blowing. The two woodcutters were listening to the night: the rustling of the last leaves, the chirruping of a May beetle that had lost its way.
They dined on bread and moss beer.
Norz Amen considered his friend to be the truest of the true. Solken had been the best man at his marriage to Lili, witnessing their joy on that day, watching the wedded couple’s traditional dance, nose to nose until daybreak, and sharing Norz’s horrifying despair when Lili had died giving birth to Nils the following year.
At the time, Solken had felt powerless to console his friend. He wasn’t even able to console himself over the loss of Lili, who was like a sister to him and to so many others.
Lili Amen was a diminutive young woman, very kind and gentle, with green eyes. Beauty makes people seem immortal. Nobody could ever have imagined that Lili might one day disappear — and still less in giving birth to her first child.
It took several weeks before big Solken, who was overcome with grief, could stand before his friend and say, “We all loved her dearly, you know. We’ll help you, my old friend.”
But Norz had remained stiff as a twig, refusing any help or support. He brought Nils up all by himself. Or rather, he watched him growing up all by himself.
Solken knew that it wasn’t Norz’s coarse voice and hearty slaps that had turned Nils into the exceptional person he was, but rather an ethereal, invisible hand: the hand of someone absent. And it wasn’t until that day in the Great Clearing, when Nils had saved Toby Lolness’s life, that Norz truly understood what a man his son had become.
Now, three years later, Solken was sitting opposite Norz Amen in the Clearing. And everything was about to crumble.
“Why don’t you say something?” Norz asked.
Solken looked at his friend. He could no longer find the strength to say what he’d come to say.
“Speak, you wood louse!” Norz burst out laughing.
“Your son, Nils . . .”
“Yes?”
“Where is he?”
“Don’t look so gloomy, Solken. My son’s at home in his hut,” said Norz. “If you want to ask him a favor, he’ll do everything in his power to help you.”
“I don’t want to owe anything to a traitor.”
Norz stood up, fist clenched, and went to attack Solken. His fist stopped just a hair’s breadth from his friend’s face.
“Repeat what you just said.”
Solken’s voice was trembling with emotion.
“I said I don’t talk to traitors.”
Norz closed his eyes to stop himself from beating his best friend to a pulp. His fist was still clenched and trembling, ready to spring into action.
“Forgive me, Norz, but what I’m saying is the truth,” Solken continued. “I saw your son up there, near the Nest. He goes there often, to meet with Leo Blue in secret.”
“Nils?”
“Yes, Nils. I saw him. If you can prove to me that I made this story up, then go ahead and kill me with your fist.”
Norz opened his hand, looked at his palm, and passed his hand over his face, as if to chase away a ghost. Then he turned to Solken and looked at him questioningly.
Brave Solken shook his head. He wasn’t lying.
The next day, Norz saw Nils’s sin with his own eyes. He even saw Leo shake Nils’s hand at the exit to the Nest. Norz had to bite his lip to keep from calling out his son’s name.
Solken swore that he wouldn’t say anything. He and Norz were the only witnesses to Nils Amen’s crime.
Norz knew what he had to do. Deep down, he knew. There is only one punishment for traitors.
For a long time now, he had warned Nils about choosing between freedom and death. The lives of hundreds of woodcutters depended on it, as did the survival of the Tree.
Norz would have to eliminate the traitor, even though it was his own son.
He planned to act alone, in order to keep Nils’s reputation intact. He’d lead people to believe it was a fatal accident. Nobody would find out about Nils’s treachery.
On the last night of the year, Norz had nearly gone through with it. He had been with Nils in his hut, and there was a weapon hidden in his belt. But he couldn’t find the strength to kill his own son.
You can ask anything of a father, except that.
After leaving Nils that evening, Norz hadn’t gone to join the feast with Shaine and the others. He had run off to hide in a hole and cry as he’d never cried before.
Two more months went by. And now it was March. Without even realizing it, Norz was avoiding his friend Solken, who had simply said, “I understand if you can’t do it. If that’s the case, I’ll take care of it.”
Norz replied that he was waiting for the right moment. Solken looked at him and pointed out, “Is there ever a right moment to bring about your own son’s death, my poor Norz?”
As for Nils Amen, he couldn’t have been happier.
Having gotten himself assigned to Elisha, the plan was going perfectly. Leo Blue seemed to trust him completely, and Toby was thrilled.
So everything was turning out for the best.
But there was something else. An event that set the young woodcutter’s head spinning and knocked him off balance. It was as if the Tree had suddenly found itself upside down and had started dancing on its Branches.
For Nils, the whole world had changed since the arrival of the divine Lila Asseldor.
Throughout the winter, Nils only saw her once a week when he went to visit Toby in the house deep in the heart of the forest.
“Have you come to see Toby, Mr. Amen?”
Nils didn’t dare say no, even though Lila was his main reason for coming.
He would watch the young woman washing her niece in a tub. She poured jugs of hot water over Snow’s head as the little girl splashed about.
Lila had her sleeves rolled up and an apron tied around her waist. Between the scalding showers, Snow shivered. Faced with this tender display, Nils felt horribly clumsy. He always asked how old Snow was, and Lila would answer, “Three. Just like last week.”
“Ah, yes . . . She looks younger.”
“Toby’s at the other end of the house.”
“Ah . . .”
But instead of leaving, Nils went over to the window and gave a running commentary on the weather. Lila would smile to herself behind the veil of steam. She didn’t understand how someone as important as Nils could be so shy. He had a thousand woodcutters under his command and oversaw forests that went on forever, but even so, he still blushed when he spoke! Lila was sensitive to this more vulnerable side of Nils. Her hands slowed down in Snow’s hair, and she joined in, “You’re right — it’s been cold since last night.”
“I’ll bring you some blankets,” answered Nils.
Sometimes he plucked up the courage to offer to fill the jug with water from the big cooking pot. He worried he might faint if he touched Lila’s fingers while handing over the jug. So he put it down next to her, on the ground.
When Nils eventually left, Lila always felt as if she was floating. She would start rubbing Snow’s tummy with the blue towel, and Snow would stare deep into Lila’s eyes with a little smile. She didn’t take her eyes off her aunt until Lila had rolled her up inside the towel and started tickling her.
“You don’t miss a trick, do you, little one? You don’t miss a trick!” Lila would laugh.
Oh, yes, the little one spotted everything. After they’d had a good laugh, Snow would put her index finger to her lips and whisper, “Shhhhh.” And Lila, playing the game, would copy her niece, dreaming that one day there might be a real secret to hide.
Nils regularly updated Toby on his visits to Elisha, but ther
e wasn’t a lot to say.
“I caught her eye for a moment today. At one point, she moved her hand.”
He repeated the same thing every time: “I’m sure she’s understood that you’re behind my visits.”
Toby was only worried about one thing.
“Leo. Doesn’t Leo suspect something?”
“No. He seems happy with me. Even old Arbayan smiles at me from time to time.”
Toby went quiet for a while. He didn’t trust Leo one little bit.
“Leo will never be happy with anybody. If he’s happy, that means he’s up to no good. I should know — he used to be my best friend.”
Toby pointed at Nils.
“The day he gives you a hug, it’ll mean he’s found out about everything. You’ll have to get out immediately! Vanish! Don’t stay a second longer in the Nest.”
“I’ll remember, Toby.” Nils smiled. “But for the time being, it’s all going fine. Maybe Leo’s changing.”
“People don’t change without a reason,” Toby reminded him.
“He loves Elisha. He’s changing because of her,” Nils suggested one day, and immediately regretted it.
Toby turned away sharply and headed off.
At precisely that moment in the South Egg, a gleaming dagger landed on the mattress, just missing the sleeping face of Elisha Lee. She opened her eyes and rolled off her bed.
For a long time she stayed still, panting against the Egg wall.
The bad news was that somebody had just tried to kill her. But there was good news too. With a weapon, she might be able to escape — if she could stay alive for long enough.
Elisha started crawling on her back. The knife must have been thrown from the gap at the top of the Egg. If she kept an eye on what was happening up there, perhaps she could avoid further attacks.
Hands and feet flat on the soil, she made her way like a spider to the middle of the Egg. She was on the lookout for the tiniest shift in the light. She tipped her head back and glanced at the dagger that was gleaming in the dark.
Finally, she was level with her mattress. Without taking her eyes off the gap directly above her, Elisha shot out her arm to grab the weapon.
She repeated this move several times, before turning her head.
The dagger was gone.
At this point, she leaped backward, landed on her hands, and pressed down on the ground with all her strength to land back on her feet, upright, in a defensive position.
Somebody had retrieved the dagger. He had to be there, lying in ambush in the gloom. The assassin might pounce on her at any moment.
A minute went by. Nothing moved in the Egg.
Elisha went over to the mattress again. What magician had been able to retrieve the weapon without revealing himself? Elisha found a square of pierced paper, which she hadn’t noticed before. It must have been on the tip of the dagger. There were a few words written on it, so she held it close to her face and read slowly.
I am . . .
A flash of light. Elisha looked up at the opening to the Egg. She was sure she’d seen a shadow passing overhead.
She read the message again.
I am a friend of Nils Amen.
Elisha wasn’t a confident reader or writer. She had learned in secret, never confessing to Toby this gap in her knowledge.
Isha Lee, her mother, didn’t know how to read or write at all.
Elisha could remember the times when Toby had shown her a piece of paper or a notebook with long sentences written on it. It was always painful for her. After a while, he would ask, “Well?”
Elisha couldn’t read, so she would answer, “It’s not really my kind of thing.”
Given that she was interested in everything, it hurt her to have to say that.
So, little by little, she had gathered a few of the secrets of writing. Pol Colleen, the old poet of the Low Branches, had taught her how to read and write.
The proof of Colleen’s talent lay in quickly dismissing his student with a little note that read:
If you can read these words, then you don’t need me anymore. Farewell.
But Elisha still felt clumsy and unconfident in herself, so she read the sentence for the third time before whooping with joy.
Nobody was trying to kill her. On the contrary, somebody wanted to help her. The Shadow was on the same side as Nils and Toby. They were busy organizing her escape. Perhaps that Shadow might even . . . Elisha imagined Toby’s face.
For the first time in years, she asked for something. She let all her tough masks drop and whispered in the silence of the room, “Help me. Tell me what I should do.”
The Shadow seemed to listen to these words before disappearing.
Elisha collapsed onto her mattress. She would do everything she was told to. She was no longer alone.
She lifted her hand. There was a damp patch at the top of the mattress, close to her face. She smiled. She finally understood the mystery of the dagger. These March nights were still very cold, so the message must have been attached to a knife made of ice. The warmth of the room had melted it.
Not far away, the Shadow slipped under a footbridge, avoiding a few noisy guards, and pushed open the door of the East Egg. Crossing this threshold and entering the light, Leo Blue had just enough time to drop his black coat before Arbayan walked in.
“You called for me.”
Leo looked at his adviser, “Perhaps you were right.”
“What?”
“Perhaps you were right about Nils Amen. He’s not on our side.”
Arbayan put his hand on the sheath of his hornet’s stinger sword.
“I take no pleasure in this news,” said Arbayan. “I would have preferred to be wrong.”
Leo Blue was no longer in any doubt. All winter long, he had listened to the mysterious words uttered by Nils to Elisha, but he had lacked proof.
After several months, he’d had an idea. By making the Shadow seem as if it was Nils’s friend, he would get his proof. If Elisha asked for help from the Shadow, that meant Nils was an enemy to Leo.
“The next time Nils Amen comes,” Leo Blue declared feverishly, “I don’t want him to leave this Nest alive.”
Arbayan saluted and left the Egg.
Poor Nils, whose heart was dancing joyfully because Lila had just said to him, “See you soon. . . .” Poor Nils, who was heading home at that very moment . . . He had no idea there were at least two death warrants hanging over his head.
“There’s a man outside with his daughter. He wants to talk to you.”
Arbayan knew this wasn’t a good time to bother Leo Blue. But he also knew he mustn’t go against the wishes of these important visitors, who were close friends of Joe Mitch.
“Kick them out,” said Leo.
“He’s a Master Worm Rearer. It’s in our interests to listen to him.”
“What does he want?”
“He’s offering his help.”
“His help . . .”
Lying in his hammock slung in the gloom, Leo started laughing quietly. He had barely left his Egg in three days. This business with Nils Amen had plunged him into a violent, despairing mood. He had trusted Nils, allowing him to get close to Elisha, and Nils had abused this trust.
“I’ll show them in,” Arbayan ventured. “I’ll explain that you don’t have much time.”
Leo didn’t answer, which was his way of agreeing. He was deep in his thoughts again.
A few moments later, Arbayan introduced two rather extraordinary characters into the East Egg.
The father was on the plump side and wore a shirt with a ruffle from another era. His hair had been greased back and combed using fly gel, which gave his hair blue glints. His white shoes were polished, and he kept blotting his face with a big polka-dotted handkerchief. He looked suspiciously like one of those glowworm rearers who had gotten rich quick when fire had been banned in the Treetop.
It was hard to behold his daughter without wincing. She was as dull as he was shiny: a sort
of fourteen-year-old doll who had been decorated with a bow or two, a few ribbons, and a bit of lace on her dress. The expression on her face was as blank as blank could be.
“Dear sir,” said the visitor, who sensed Leo’s presence in the gloom. “I bring you good news.”
Leo sat up gingerly. There wasn’t much in the way of good news just now.
“Please forgive my indiscretion,” whispered the man in the white shoes, “but I understand that you’re currently experiencing a few romantic problems.”
This time, Leo nearly fell out of his hammock. Nobody had ever dared to speak to him on this subject.
“Mr. Blue, I am here to put an end to your troubles once and for all.”
Leo tried to stifle the urge to strangle this nitwit.
“If you follow my advice, you’ll be married tomorrow. Your situation is completely ridiculous. I mean, you’re a laughingstock throughout the region. . . .”
Leo leaped to his feet.
“There’s a very simple solution,” his visitor continued calmly. “And I’ll tell you what it is in just a moment. . . .”
Posted at the door, Arbayan was listening in. He knew this would all end very badly; he could see it in Leo Blue’s eyes.
“The solution,” said the man, “is right here. Marry my daughter, Bernice.”
Poor Bernie (for it was indeed the unforgettable Bernie) tried to curtsy, but she snagged her right heel on the bow of her left shoe. She slid to the floor without a sound. Gus Alzan rushed to her aid.
“Bernie-wernie, my little . . .”
He was trying to pick her up by the collar, but she kept falling back down again. It looked like he was cleaning the floor with a mop.
In just a few years, the terrifying Bernie had changed. The girl who used to knock out prisoners by the handful in the ball of mistletoe at Tumble, the girl who used to bite the neck of anyone who bent over to kiss her, the girl who used to spend her life chewing on the toenails she kept in her pocket . . . Well, terrifying Bernie had become as expressionless as a toilet seat. And her father almost missed the Bernie of before.