Read Online Willow by Wayland Drew - Free Book Online

been the mist swirled away from the sun.
    Willow tucked the acorns safely into his pocket beside the braid of Kiaya’s hair. When he got to the path, the rest of the expedition had gone ahead except for Meegosh, who waited to help carry the baggage pole. For the last time, Willow Ufgood embraced his wife and children. He settled his end of the pole on his shoulder. And then, in the sun of the new day, he and Meegosh set off through the meadow, to the place where the forest opened like the mouth of a dark tunnel.
    From the slopes behind them the Nelwyns called good-bye—a long, sorrowful sigh.
    Many wept.
    So began the long journey of Willow Ufgood, a journey destined to end even more strangely than it began.

I V

DAIKINI CROSSROADS
    F or several leagues northward through Nelwyn Valley the road was broad and level. It led straight through the forest along the old flood plain on the east bank of the river, where the trees grew tall and open. Through them, the travelers could see the Freen and often the forest creatures that went down to the bank to drink.
    Vohnkar sent his two men to scout ahead while he led the little procession, lance at the ready. Burglekutt followed next, carrying only his staff of office and his heavy self, sweating copiously and complaining at every inconvenience—a muddy quagmire, a toe stubbed on a projecting root, a horsefly nipping his fat neck. Behind him struggled Meegosh and Willow, bearing the baggage of the expedition slung on the sagging pole between them.
    As it approached the northern end of the valley, the road curved away from the river and narrowed, becoming a cart track, and then a trail, and finally a footpath so overgrown that even Vohnkar sometimes lost it.
    Burglekutt kept falling back so that Meegosh frequently trod on his heels. He was frightened by every sound—even the squawk of a raven, even the sudden scolding of a squirrel—and his cries were so loud that they often brought Vohnkar gliding back, hissing for silence.
    They were entering a region where few Nelwyns ever ventured. Only hunters in close pursuit of game dared come this far north, and they never lingered, for beyond the end of the valley the Daikini world began. Vohnkar moved slowly here, taking all precautions, often scouting far ahead before he beckoned them on.
    On the second night they camped in a small cave at the very end of Nelwyn Valley, a considerable distance away from the path. It was a secure campsite. They built a small fire and ate well, and Burglekutt was soon asleep and snoring. The warriors took turns keeping watch, and there came a time late in the evening when Meegosh and Willow were alone with Vohnkar beside the fire.
    They were old friends. They had known each other well when they were boys, but their ways had parted years earlier. Vohnkar had left the valley for a time, while Willow and Meegosh had taken on the jobs and homes of their fathers. They had seen little of each other since.
    Now they sat together as they had when they were boys, beside the river, or among the boughs of a great oak, or in some cave like this one.
    “It’s a good place, Vohnkar.”
    The warrior nodded. “The last. Beyond here we’ll be in the open. Many nights.”
    Meegosh leaned forward. “Have you . . . have you been to the Daikini crossroads, Vohnkar?”
    “Oh yes.”
    “And beyond?”
    Vohnkar nodded. “Once.” He looked at them through the smoke. He looked into the watching eyes of the child in Willow’s arms. “When I began my quest.”
    “A quest? What for?”
    “Tir Asleen.”
    “Tir Asleen! But that’s just . . .”
    “Just a legend? Just a myth?” Vohnkar peered at Meegosh, his eyes narrowing in the drifting smoke.
    “Well . . . yes. Isn’t it?”
    Vohnkar smiled.
    “But it is just a myth, isn’t it, Vohnkar? You didn’t find Tir Asleen.”
    “No.”
    “Then your quest failed.”
    “Oh no!” Vohnkar laughed softly, shaking his head. “If my quest had failed, my friends, we would