Alan Dean Foster Kingdoms of Light

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There was room for all, without rhyme or reason or regard for climate or soil.
Aside from the natural competition for sunlight and sustenance, it was truly a
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magical place, Oskar marveled.
If only it wasn't trying so hard to kill them.
"I don't understand." Ducking a flung, unrecognizable nut somewhere in size
and shape between coco and filbert, he and his companions waited while Samm
strode forward to chop down the offending growth. "Doesn't this forest
understand we mean it no harm?"
Their white maple guide strove to explain while simultaneously shielding Oskar
with its trunk from attack by the surrounding vegetation. "Most of the trees
in this forest kingdom consider all nongrowing things a threat. Unlike my
friends and I, the majority of them are only broad-leafed, not broad-minded.
Mobiles dig up our roots, devour our seeds, rip off our bark to eat, or bore
through it to lay their parasitic eggs in our heartwood. Those capable of
thought like yourselves cut us up and use our bodies for shelter, or burn us
to provide the additional heat their own bodies are not capable of producing."
Branches leaned in the direction of the perambulating sycamore.
"When but a sapling, Oppin there had a particularly close grove mate. They
shared soil and the same access to sunlight. One night the other had a dream,
of marching bipeds like yourselves armed with things called saws. Its screams
upon awakening unnerved a whole section of forest. Poor thing was never the
same after that. All his leaves fell out, he developed a severe scale
infestation, and eventually he just withered."
"I'm sorry about that," Oskar responded, "but it's no reason to fear my
friends and I."
"Well, not you, perhaps. But your companions are different."
"We're all different. And we're not actually bipeds."
"Ah, an enchantment! Ever since you roused us from our plots, I have been
wondering about that. It does not matter. You are bipeds now, and will
continue to be perceived as such by the forest."
"It doesn't matter." Cezer started forward as soon as Samm indicated that it
was once more safe to proceed. "With our serpentine friend to clear the way,
we'll be through in no time."
"His activities are certainly making an impression." Ambling along on its
strong, magically emancipated roots, the oak inspected the carcass of the
fallen bousoun tree. No longer would it grow, or throw, potentially lethal
bousoun nuts at wandering travelers. "Each passing day sees a steady
diminution in the frequency of these attacks."
Mamakitty shuffled thick leaf litter with her feet, wishing she had the time
and the anatomical structure to scamper through the crunchy, crackling ground
cover on all fours. "Hopefully, the trees that lie ahead of us will find out
from others what is happening and let us pass without incident." She nodded in
the direction of their oversize companion. "I worry that our large friend may
be getting tired."
The giant overheard her. "Not at all," he rumbled in response. Resting on his
shoulder, the stone blade of the great axe was now stained with sap. "I like
cutting down trees."
Off to the left, Oskar thought he saw a stand of sugar pines shudder. That was
not surprising. Word of Samm's ongoing depredations on behalf of the advancing
travelers had surely spread throughout this part of the kingdom by now. What
was unsettling was that Oskar thought he could feel the trees shudder. No
matter how dense their network of roots, they ought not to have been capable
of disturbing the earth that forcefully.
There it was again: a distinct and unequivocal trembling underfoot. And then a
third tremor, stronger still.
"What do you make of this quaking?" In the olivine-tinted light, Cocoa's
striking green eyes appeared almost black.
"You feel it, too?" He shifted his attention to their sycamore. It had edged
closer to the willow and the maple. The oak continued to stand off by itself,
studying not the route ahead or the surrounding trees but the soil underfoot.
"I don't need a tree to tell me what's happening." Wary and alert, Cezer had
come to a halt. Though his sword remained in its scabbard, he scanned the
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surrounding woods uneasily. "Something's coming."
"Something big." Samm unlimbered his implacable axe.
"There!" A startled Taj whistled as loudly as he could.
It came crashing through the dense woodland, its massive crown overawing the
surrounding growths. The green-hued light could not entirely obscure the fact
that its trunk was an odd grayish hue, with a highly distinctive scale-like
bark. Branches grew up rather than out, and many were themselves thicker [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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