173) The Salvation of Eden, Chapter 9 -- Good Things Coming to an End

They stayed for two weeks. They had hoped to stay longer, but Fate, as it were, intervened.

Kohra learned a great deal in those two weeks, shadowing Galen as he went about his daily tasks. He oozed wisdom, and was a fountainhead of knowledge about the art of living well.

She quickly forgot about the “crazy old man in the woods” stereotype. Galen was clearly a genius, and had achieved something in this swamp that seemed straightforwardly impossible. When she took a step back and looked at the whole situation objectively, she couldn’t believe that this was real, that this was where they were. But it was. Galen survived out here, all by himself, with his completely out-of-place horse paddock, spectacle-wearing chipmunk friend, and as she discovered, an entire garden, pharmacy and potion-supply depot spread through countless plants, mosses, moulds and slimes growing all over the swamp. Cut off from the “conveniences” of the city, from stores and markets, to entertainment and public life, he seemed truly content.

Galen wasn’t much into explaining what he was doing. But as she got better at observing, he got better at demonstrating, and before long, she had learned more about wild foods and medicinal plants, than her whole childhood of foraging had taught her.

One thing she learned for sure, which she would never forget, was how sorely she had misjudged Galen McKlein. How, indeed, the rest of the world misjudged “Old Man McKiller.”

She wondered, often, who the woman was in the pictures. He hadn’t responded when she’d asked, and she hadn’t been bold enough to ask again. Maybe it was better that way. Everybody is entitled to their secrets.

She smiled inwardly, imagining living in a little cabin in the woods, listening to the wind, watching the sky, making potions, having chipmunk friends drop in for tea. Once she began to understand the slow moving, day-to-day reality of living this way, she could appreciate — it WAS a beautiful life, as fulfilling as any other and moreso than most. She wondered if she would ever find her Home, the way Galen had found his.

I guess he didn’t exactly “find” his home. He made this place. It’s him.

* * * * *

Galen carried a different air with him on his return from his second visit to town; they had assumed he would be gone for several days as before, but just a few hours later, the very afternoon after he left, he unceremoniously stomped into the cabin, sat down heavily on the floor, picked up one of the pillow-rocks and put it on his lap, like a cat, took off his hat, rubbed his eyes and addressed both of them directly.

“This might come as a shock, and I am sorry for that, but your time with me is done. We’ve only got a couple of hours.”

Kohra clapped her hand over her mouth, too shocked indeed, to even respond.

“I know a way you can get safely into the Borderlands, and that’s your best course of action. You both have to disappear for a while. I mean, out of Anthor entirely.”

“What? How did…? The Borderlands?” Kohra spluttered. She had never been outside of Anthor. It wasn’t exactly something most people did. Especially children. The Borderlands were notoriously dangerous, both because of their proximity to the Wild, and because of the types of folks who would choose such a life of living on the edge.

Galen put his hand on her shoulder, reassuringly. “It’s okay; I’ll explain. We have enough time.”

He told them that he had it on “good authority” that the High Council had fallen. There were no further barriers to the King exerting his whim, untrammeled, over all of Anthor. And the King’s intentions were increasingly clear. We wanted to be a god; and he wanted to rule all of Eden.

In one fell swoop, the day of the mass “questioning” of the Connectors, the same day Kohra had narrowly escaped being picked up in the market, the King had removed almost all possible threats to his power.

Also that same day, the King had terminated the employment of his circle of Advisors and dismantled the High Council, giving himself sole control of all resources of the kingdom, including the Legions of the Spear.

The meager few who slipped through his clutches were now being hunted. Like them.

“Hunted! Us? Why?” Kohra pleaded. “Me and Dom are hardly going to overthrow the King!”

“You already know why,” he replied, matter-of-fact.

“Because of Shaping?” she asked. Dominic stared studiously at the floor for some reason, but Kohra didn’t notice.

Galen nodded, locking eyes with Dominic as he answered. “Exactly. He sees people who can Connect as risks, and he is Hells-bent on removing all such risks to his power.” He frowned, his old eyes looking shattered with sadness, like they had seen this before, too many times. “Or it might be worse.”

“Worse! How can it be worse?” Kohra cried.

“He might see you as an asset.”

“You mean….” Dom’s eyes widened.

Galen nodded again. “Yes, I believe he’s forcing Connectors into his service.. They are far more useful alive than dead. After all, who could possibly stand against an army of Connectors?”

“But they can fight back!” Kohra cried. “Especially if he’s keeping them all together, they can fight back! You said it yourself, nobody could stand against them!”

He shook his head. “This is why none of the families have yet returned; they are insurance against anyone acting on rebellious ideas. And the King has unfathomable powers available to him. Nobody knows the full reaches of his networks into the Dark powers of the world. But make no mistake, eventually, he will take over their minds until they no longer will be able to formulate a rebellious thought. And then, yes, he hopes to have an army that is unstoppable.” He looked at Dominic, knowing the special pain this must be causing him,with his parents still imprisoned. “I’m sorry Dom, I only know bits and pieces of the bigger picture. But there IS a bigger picture, I can guarantee you that.”

“We’re just pieces on a chessboard,” muttered Dominic.

“Yes, we are.” Galen nodded soberly. “But sometimes, maybe, we can rise above our little square and see the larger board. And once we can do that,” he paused, putting a hand on Dominic’s shoulder until the young man looked up. “Once we do that, we can figure out how to win.  After all, you only need kill the King, to win the game.”

“You said we’re being hunted?” Kohra interjected. “What did you mean? Like, some Monster is after us?” She laughed. Kohra often laughed when she was nervous.

He put his other hand on her shoulder. It was more awkward than reassuring, but at least he made the effort.

He continued. “My guess is that the King is casting a wide net, placing spies and scouts everywhere, questioning everybody, and following up every lead or tip they get. This is why one of the most important things the resistance movement is doing right now,” (an image of Kohra’s father, dirt-smudged face, sneaking around in the dark on some clandestine mission, popped into her head), “is spreading misinformation, sending in fake tips. They’re trying to bog down the investigations, and make them as frustrating, time-consuming, and expensive as possible.”

“But in the long run, if you stay in Anthor, you’ll be found. Everybody makes a mistakes, sooner or later. Everybody leaves a trail; even you, Dominic.” He and Kohra caught each other’s eye in the same moment, and smiled.

“If he finds you, even I would not be able to protect you from what he would send. At least, not for very long.” He looked Kohra right in the eye. “And he is about to find you. Today. That is why you have to leave.”

“This is crazy! I still don’t…this is…what the Hells? Why go to all this trouble for us? It just doesn’t make sense. Right Dom? C’mon Dom, this doesn’t make sense, right?”

Dominic shrugged. He didn’t know what to think. He wanted to think like Kohra and just resist all this, refuse to believe any of it. After all, for all he had known of life up to this point, this really didn’t make sense. It couldn’tbe true. But he knew that it was. And he trusted Galen McKlein.

Galen tried again. “You must understand, you are part of a network, Kohra. And the King is bringing down this entire network, every piece of it.”

“But I’m not part of any ‘network’!” she protested. “I’m sixteen! I spend most of my time drawing pictures! How is that a threat to the freaking KING?!”

Galen persisted, calm but firm. “If the King allows even one person who can Connect to remain free, think of what that person might become, eventually.  The Connector who lights candles today may be the Arch-Mage who cracks the secrets of Old Magic, eventually.”

“And yes, you are most certainly part of a network. You’re connected to people like Ms. B., after all.  And who do you think she knows? She’s lived a pretty long life, and she’s a pretty special person. What has she been doing all this time? What allies does she have? What secrets does she know? How many friends does she have in powerful places?”

She stared at him wide-eyed. “I…I never thought of that before. I mean, sort of, but, wow.”

Galen nodded. “And believe you me, any of Ms B’s friends? They know about you, Kohra. They know about your progress as her student. They know about your potential.” 

Kohra scuffed the floor, squirming.

Galen waited for her to look back up, and smiled warmly. “You’re not anonymous, Kohra. You play a key role in things, even if you never know what that role is. But even when times seem dark, as they do now, remember, there are Paladins for Good out there, and they do keep an eye on things.”

Kohra stuck out her chin, as she tended to when being stubborn. “Then why don’t they just kick ass or something? If there are all these super-powerful Paladins of Good or whatever, why don’t they just stop all this craziness? I don’t understand any of this!”

He sighed heavily. Galen had carried this knowledge far longer than Kohra could have believed, from even before Susannah Springer had “miraculously” survived her leap to freedom, and it was wearing on him. For all this time, he and Clarion had worked to prevent the coming cataclysm. But regardless, here they were, and the future was more opaque than it had ever been.

“There are many things, Kohra, that I cannot see. It’s dangerous to poke around too closely in the plans of powerful Beings. I have to stay hidden too, you know.”

* * * * *

About an hour later, they were sipping mushroom and pepper-root tea, going over Galen’s instructions for how to get out of Anthor.

“From the Swamp where you exit, you know Dom, by that tall grandmother Oak who I introduced you to? From there, head to DannyBoy Creek and the Bonny Pass; aim straight for the cleft in between the two escarpments you’ll see on the horizon, and you’ll find the waters soon enough. If you meet ANYONE in the forest, tell them the truth, whatever they ask you. And if they are about to kill you, which is likely, then tell them The Green Wizard sent you.” They looked at him, puzzled. “Just tell them! Green Wizard!”

He looked over his shoulder suddenly, like he was listening to something far away. Then he focused on them with even more intensity than before. “We are almost out of time. Listen carefully.”

The chipmunk chittered loudly, interrupting them.

“Oh, right,” Galen replied, turning to the little critter. “Thank you, Faeron; he had slipped my mind; please hurry! We’ll need him to run interference.” The chipmunk saluted and promptly dashed through a mouse-hole in the side of the wall. 

Galen turned back to them. “You with me?”

Dominic nodded. “Grandma Oak, Dannyboy Creek, Bonny Pass, Green Wizard. What else?”

Galen nodded approvingly. “Good. You’ll find a section of the Dannyboy where a little tributary splits off. There’s a 12-trunked birch tree there, with a little lamp. Light it, and wait. Someone will come and help you. Just know this — when you get to the other side of the River, you are outside of Anthor. You are mostly, but not entirely, out of the King’s reach there. The farther away you get, the safer you will be.”

“When can we come back?” Kohra asked.

He shook his head, shrugging. “I don’t know.  I’m sorry, but I just don’t. This is what happens when the world changes. Everything feels upside down and you can’t see even one day into the future. It’s hard, I know. Believe me, I know.”

“It’s like the Flux,” Kohra murmured. “Always changing, always flowing, nothing to hang onto.”

Galen’s old eyes lit up for a moment. “Yes, exactly.” But he said nothing more about it. “Now, the lands outside of Anthor are far more Wild than anything you’re used to. If you go walking around on footpaths in the forest, for example,” (he looked pointedly at Dominic), “you will end up as someone’s snack in short order.”

Kohra groaned. This just gets better and better. Soon he’s going tell us that some ancient Demon from the pits of the Hells is stalking us and will hunt us day and night until it devours us….

“The Borderlands are spotted with little hamlets and farms that have carved out an existence in the scrublands. There are roads, rough but traversable by wagon. You MUST stay on these roads.”

Galen looked at Kohra to see if she was still listening. “And don’t carry anything of value! Practically everybody and their grandmother will be sizing you up to see if you’re worth mugging. Just stick to crowded places and blend in. There are always people passing through, and Borderlanders on principle don’t ask questions. Lay low for a while. Get a job slinging beer in a local pub, keep up with the gossip and news, and just lay low. It won’t be forever, only until we have time to put together a plan. Don’t worry, I’ll find you again.”

“How?” Dominic asked.

“I’ll find you.” He winked, smiling at Kohra. Then he turned toward the door. “It’s time.”