The Tower: Part 3: Samhain
Post #17: In which unlikely allies ...
(If you are a new subscriber, you might want to start at the beginning of the Webbd Wheel Series with The Hanged Man. If you would like to start at the beginning of The Tower, go here. If you prefer to read part 3 in its entirety, go here. For the next serial post, go here.)
CHAPTER 6
“It’s as though the sea is withholding itself from the land,” said Rapunzel in a low voice, though she and Persephone were alone, Clarissa having left to talk to Marceau, one of the sea kings, about what was happening at the lighthouse.
“It made me feel a bit sick. And walking back, seeing what should be hidden from human eyes, felt like a violation.”
“I know,” said Persephone. “I felt that way, too, when I watched from the top of the tower.”
“Do you think this has something to do with what Heks talked about? Yrtym?”
“She called it a web,” said Persephone. “A web of matterenergytime connecting everything. I thought of connections between people, though. Beings. What could disrupt the connection between the land and the sea? It seems impossible!”
“I wonder if there’s trouble at other thresholds,” said Rapunzel. “What about Rowan Gate and other portals?”
What about Hades? Persephone thought. But she didn’t say it aloud.
MIRMIR
Mirmir dreamed of a swarm of words, each one glittering like a white star. The swarm was airborne, but it wriggled like a skull full of white maggots. It was night, and he was in Yggdrasil, but the Norn’s cottage windows showed warm light, and he knew the company inside played marbles. He could hear their laughter and banter. He wanted to leave the tree and join them. His place among them was empty and cried out to him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the approaching swarm. It was beautiful, but it made him shudder. His tongue flickered, tasting the air. The swarm came upon him, and as though shattering against some invisible barrier, it broke into fragments, each fragment a still-wriggling word, and showered his body. The glowing words writhed with sharp little edges and sticky claws, moving slyly against the long length of his body, tickling unmercifully. He wanted to thrash and twist, tie himself in a knot and then release it, rub himself against Yggdrasil and rid his body of the maddening sensation, but he couldn’t move a muscle. He strained with all his might, emitted a soft grunt, an agonized giggle, and woke.
“Wake up, Mirmir! Wake up!”
The voice, high and piercing, came closer. He could feel Ash’s little claws as the bat hiked along the length of his body toward his head. He sounded thoroughly put out.
Mirmir, released from his dream paralysis, rippled his body in protest against Ash’s tickling claws, and the bat, caught unawares, exclaimed shrilly as he slid off and took wing.
Mirmir snickered.
“I heard that!” said Ash, alighting on the branch on which Mirmir’s head had been pillowed. “I’ve been trying to wake you for an age, you lazy reptile!”
“It’ss the middle of the night,” said Mirmir, reproachfully. “I’m supposed to be asleep.”
“It’s the middle of my day,” said Ash, “and I want your help.”
“Now? Can’t it wait until morning?”
“No, you laggard! It’s important!”
Mirmir yawned hugely, stretching the skin and muscles of his jaw and throat. He rubbed his body against Yggdrasil, ridding himself of the last of the tickling sensation from Ash’s efforts to wake him.
Ash yawned until his eyes watered in helpless contagion. He fluttered his wings peevishly and consoled his irritation with a few quick licks.
“Very well,” said Mirmir, wide awake. “What’s the panic?”
“I am not panicked,” said Ash with dignity. “I bring news. You do still want to hear the news, even if it’s not served up with your morning coffee and Verdani’s Current Events, don’t you?”
“Don’t be so huffy, flittermousse,” said Mirmir. “What’s up?”
“I’ve come from the lighthouse,” said Ash, “and there’s a new lightkeeper. You won’t believe it, but she’s an old friend of mine. Do you remember Rapunzel, the lovely girl whose foster mother kept her in a stone tower?”
“’Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden hair,’” said Mirmir.
“That’s right. She and I became friends. A few of us roosted in the tower. She and her foster mother were witches and knew something of our kind. She was lonely and bored and she often sat up on summer nights, watching us hunt and talking with us. Then one day she left, and I never knew what happened to her.
“And now she’ss the new lighthousse keeper?” asked Mirmir.
“She is. She’s cut her hair off, but when she spoke to me, I recognized her. We talked for hours. I told her about Verdani being ill, and you, and the Dvorgs. Mirmir, Queen Persephone is there, at the tower. She lost the baby and left Hades.”
“She left Hadess?”
“That’s right. And Rapunzel says the night sky is changing. She thinks Cerus the bull somehow fell and wound up at the lighthouse. She says Persephone found him and they spend all their time together.”
“Very funny,” said Mirmir coldly. “Pull the other one, and then let me go back to ssleep.”
“I mean it,” said Ash. “You needn’t take my word for it. Look for yourself.”
Without another word, Mirmir slithered up Yggdrasil. Ash took wing and darted out of the canopy, circling the great tree and listening to Mirmir ascending. Together, they spiraled upward, Mirmir embracing the trunk and Ash a dark and silent shadow orbiting the tree’s bare crown. It grew steadily colder and the stars blazed. When Mirmir stopped, Ash pressed himself against his thick body. Both were unsuited to cold weather.
“Look,” said Ash. “See The Hunter? And there’s The Hound. And Cerus should be right there … You said the top of Yggdrasil was shedding, remember?”
“I remember. Cerus had a red eye,” said Mirmir.
“He still does. Rapunzel says the white bull at the lighthouse has red eyes. One of his horns is broken and he was injured, but he’s healed now.”
“All right. I’m freezing. Let’s go back down.”
After descending into warmer air, Mirmir draped part of his body over a thick, low branch, and Ash hung upside down within the loop.
“Go on, then,” encouraged Mirmir.
“Right. Well, this will sound crazy too, but at the lighthouse the sea has withdrawn from the shore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the water has pulled back, as though it doesn’t want to touch the land anymore. There’s nearly a mile of bare sea floor exposed and then a sudden wall of water. I flew out and looked. It’s the strangest sight I’ve ever seen, so unnatural it’s frightening. Rapunzel felt more disturbed by that than by anything else.”
“It ssounds bizarre,” said Mirmir.
“It is. Rapunzel has friends at a place called Rowan Tree, and she says a tree there is dying. There’s a portal there, too, and it’s breaking down somehow, so it no longer stays open. Nobody knows what’s happening or what to do. Isn’t there a portal at the base of Yggdrasil?”
“Yess,” said Mirmir. “It’s not always in evidence, but sometimes it opens up.”
“Has it opened lately?” asked Ash.
“No,” said Mirmir. “So, to summarize. One of the three Norns is ill and their ability to perform their roles diminished. Trees are distressed. The night sky is changing. The sea withholds itself from the land. Relationships are breaking down, as are portals.”
“It’s all division and disconnection,” said Ash. “Rapunzel talked about a thing called Yrtym. Have you ever heard of it?”
“No.”
“She described it as matterenergytime, a kind of web in which everything is suspended, sky, earth, water. She said something’s wrong with it and that’s what’s causing the trouble. That’s why the woman called Heks sent her to the tower. She’s trying to gather information. That’s where I come in, if you’ll help me.”
A chill breeze eddied around the tree’s bare arms. The sky paled into dawn. Ash yawned again and shivered.
“Shouldn’t you be hibernating ssoon?” asked Mirmir. “It’s getting too cold for insects. Urd probably still has mealworms, though.” Urd, aware of Ash’s frequent visits, had installed a bat house in the attic, left a window permanently ajar and began raising mealworms in case the little bat needed food. Periodically she gave Mirmir a handful as a treat.
“Yes,” said Ash, “but I’m thinking about staying awake this winter. Rapunzel has asked me if I’ll gather news for her. If I can find an insect volunteer to help resolve whatever is going wrong with Yrtym, Rapunzel will provide food for me all winter. As long as I stay warm, I can travel from place to place and collect information.”
“You want help recruiting an inssect to volunteer to feed you?” asked Mirmir in disbelief.
“Yes. Rapunzel can charm it so no matter how many times I eat it, it never dies. It would travel with me and help collect news.”
“What did you have in mind? The mosquitoes are gone, and so are most of the butterflies and moths.”
“A beetle,” said Ash, wearing a smug expression.
“A beetle?”
“A bark beetle. From Yggdrasil.”
“Hmmm.”
“I know they’re here. I’ve heard them before when I’ve spent the night. They’re protected from the cold because they live under the bark, and they depend on the trees. I thought maybe we could find an adventurous one.”
Mirmir sniggered. “An adventurouss bark beetle,” he murmured, as though to himself. “What next?”
“What makes you think a beetle will actually talk with us?” he asked Ash. “We eat beetles!”
“Don’t help, then,” Ash grumped. “I’ll do it myself. Webbd is unraveling and I want to do something about it. You stay here and coddle your sarcastic attitude while Yggdrasil falls around you!”
Mirmir gave an exaggerated sigh. Ash glared at him ferociously out of his small black eyes.
Mirmir had in fact noticed bark beetles in Yggdrasil. He made it his business to know every creature living on the body of the tree, no matter how small, and he regularly checked the lower branches for soundness, as Urd spent a great deal of time climbing among them and storing the results of Verdani’s spinning. The beetles were not numerous and apparently created no serious damage. Yggdrasil, until recently, had seemed impregnable in its size and health. However, Mirmir knew the beetles could invade and decimate whole stands of trees, so he kept a minatory eye on their numbers.
Mirmir led Ash to a slab of bark under which bark beetles, among other insects, occasionally sheltered. Woodpeckers worked in this area, and the bark had loosened slightly from the tree’s body. The two friends listened intently, and Mirmir could hear the tiny scritch, scritch of insect feet and jaws, along with assorted clicks.
“Excuse me,” piped Ash. “Excuse me, I’d like to speak to a beetle, please.”
Immediately, all movement stopped. Dawn approached and Mirmir heard a single chickadee call from somewhere nearby. Another eater of beetles.
“Who is that?” came a tiny female voice.
“My name is Ash,” said Ash. “I’ve come because I need help.”
“Help from us? What kind of help? Who are you?”
“I’m … Well, don’t be afraid, but I’m a little brown bat, and I’m here with my friend Mirmir, the tree’s guardian.”
Mirmir heard the scratch of several tiny feet on the run. He pictured insects under the bark fleeing in every direction. It sounded like stampeding fairies.
“Please,” Ash cried desperately, “I didn’t come to hurt you. If I was hunting, I wouldn’t try to talk with you.”
“What do you want, then?” asked the female voice with a definite snap. Mirmir wondered if she possessed jaws.
“I want to offer an adventure,” began Ash, who clearly hadn’t thought out exactly how to persuade a beetle to partner with a bat.
Mirmir rolled his eyes, but kept silent.
“You may not know, but there’s something going wrong with the trees,” said Ash.
“We know. The Yrtym is disrupted and trees are dying.”
“You know!” Ash exclaimed. He and Mirmir looked at one another in astonishment.
“Certainly. We insects and Tym are architects of the Green World.”
“Well,” said Ash weakly, floundering, “we want to find out more about Yrtym and what’s going wrong with it, and a friend of mine is a witch, and she said if I could find a volunteer insect to keep me fed during the winter, then I could gather news and bring it to her instead of hibernating, so I’m trying to find someone to do that. Feed me, I mean. Except you wouldn’t die! I could eat you as many times as I need to, but you’d always come back …” he trailed away, looking miserable.
Silence from under the bark. Mirmir wrinkled the skin over one eye and shook his head at Ash.
“This is all wrong,” Ash muttered. “It’s against nature. I thought I could help, but I’m not powerful. Most people never even see me. I should hibernate and leave the doing of deeds to people bigger and more important.”
He turned away, looking disconsolate.
Mirmir nudged Ash from behind. Ash glanced at him and then followed the direction of his gaze. A shiny black beetle peered out from under an edge of loosened bark. Its antennae waved.
“How would you carry me?” the female voice demanded.
“In my fur,” he said at once. “You can hold on with your feet. You’ll be warm against my body and my fur will cover and hide you. I’ll take you to Rapunzel, my witch friend, and she’ll perform a charm so I can eat you without taking your life, and then we’ll travel together.”
“How do I know you’re not just trying to get an easy meal?”
“Not an eassy meal,” Mirmir pointed out. “Easier for him to hunt in the usual way. His belly would be full by now.
“Hmmph. Say I agree to this plan. Will you bring me back here if we survive this adventure of yours?”
“Yes,” said Ash, “I promise. What’s your name?”
“Beatrice,” she replied primly.
Mirmir quivered with suppressed laughter. Beatrice the beetle.
“If Tym dies, we’ll die too,” said Beatrice. Mirmir couldn’t tell if she meant Yrtym or spoke of a different thing, but it wasn’t the time to clarify terminology.
“If you die, it will hurt my people,” Ash said delicately.
She sounded matter-of-fact. “Yes. It will also limit rodents and birds. We are essential in the web of life and the food chain.”
She crawled out from under the bark and surveyed Ash with a critical air. He smiled shyly, his ugly little face wrinkling. Mirmir grinned as he watched them size up one another.
“I’ll need to eat too, you know,” she said.
“Of course,” said Ash. “Trees grow everywhere.”
“When do we leave?”
“Tonight. I must eat and sleep today. Tonight we’ll go back to Rapunzel.”
“Come back here and call me,” said Beatrice. “I’ll be ready.” She crawled back under the loosened bark and disappeared.
Ash yawned again, slumping with relief.
“Bed for you, flittermousse,” said Mirmir. “Off with you. I’m going back to bed as well. I’ll see you tonight.”
Lazily, he began to coil his body. Ash flew to the kitchen window and showed himself to Urd, who was washing dishes, before darting through the attic window and seeking a roost in the bat house. He heard Urd come up, and the clink of a bowl as she set it on the floor. After stuffing himself with mealworms, he clambered back into the bat house and slept.