His grandfather stared into the embers, his expression somewhat sentimental. “I used to have a couple of dogs, but they died a long time ago. I haven’t had the heart to get any since then. Plus, I don’t think the landlord would appreciate it.”
“Landlord?”
“The goddamned cat,” clarified the old man, picking his teeth with a splinter of wood. “He really doesn’t appreciate dogs. He’d probably increase the rent.”
How much could one cat eat? wondered Will, but he didn’t bother voicing his thought. Instead he asked, “How long ago was that? When you had the dogs?”
“Oh, it’s been a while,” said his grandfather. “Before you were born.” He chuckled, then added, “Before your mother was born.”
“You must have been a lot younger then,” suggested Will.
“Not so much,” said the hermit. “It’s all relative I suppose, but I was already pretty old by then.”
Unable to restrain his curiosity, Will was direct with his next question. “How old are you?”
His grandfather looked up sharply. “None of your damn business.” Then he stood and dusted himself off. “Time for bed. Make sure to clean the dishes before you sleep.”
***
The next morning Will rose early, and after stuffing himself full of eggs and buttered toast, he began his reading. After a couple of hours of that, his grandfather informed him that he was free to go and finish the woodcutting. With any luck, he thought he might get enough to finally finish the task.
As he started out the door, axe in hand, the old man reminded him, “Only dead wood. I know you’ve scoured the woods clean close to the house, but don’t be tempted to cut a live tree. You couldn’t afford the payment. Take your time and go farther out if you have to, even if it means you need to spend another day at it.”
His grandfather had been giving him similar warnings every morning, though Will really didn’t understand the prohibition against cutting live trees. He knew better than to go against the old man’s orders, however, and he couldn’t think of much worse than spending a day at hard labor only to get no supper. “I won’t forget,” he assured his guardian.
He set off toward the west, the direction opposite that of the village, since it hadn’t been scavenged for wood quite as much. He remembered seeing a fallen tree in that area previously, which should provide more than enough wood. The only downside was that it was farther away than he would have liked, which meant a lot of extra hauling to get the wood home.
The ground had a gentle upward slope, since the hills that separated Barrowden from the village of Branscombe lay in that direction, but Will figured that was a good thing. It meant the trip back, while carrying a load, would be much easier.
Despite the cold wind of late autumn, the sun was shining brightly and there were no clouds that day, making his hike an almost cheerful affair. Will found himself whistling as he went, and he began to study the plants along his path. At this time of year most of the trees had lost their leaves, but some of the hardier perennials that lived beneath them were still green. Mentally, he named them as he went.
As he walked, a thought occurred to him. He’s supposed to be teaching me herbology, but I haven’t had a single lesson on the topic. It’s all been reading, math, and cooking. He glanced at the candle in his hand. And whatever this is supposed to teach me.
His eyes fell on a tall plant he didn’t recognize. “What’s this?” he muttered. It was unusual for him to encounter something his mother hadn’t taught him to identify already. Ovate and dentate leaves, square stem… Mentally, he made note of its features for future reference. It stood almost three feet tall and was still green despite the late season.
Concentrating, he focused on the plant, attempting to use his strange extra perception to learn something about its properties. He was disappointed, as he got the sense that it wasn’t useful for much. It wasn’t astringent, antiseptic, or good for any other purpose he could discern. It was edible, though, and it resembled sage, so he wondered about its taste. If it had a good flavor, he might be able to surprise his grandfather at dinnertime.
His mother had always warned him about trying new plants, but that had been before he discovered his special ability. Reaching out, he started to pluck one of the leaves, and as soon as his fingers touched it, he felt something new. A strange essence stirred within the plant, something he didn’t recognize, mysterious and tempting.
Will plucked a large leaf and held it to his nose, noting a scent reminiscent of sage. Maybe it’s a variety of sage I’m not familiar with, he thought, before biting a small portion from the leaf. The taste didn’t match. It was more like lettuce, with a faint, thyme-like flavor. He pressed the rest into his mouth and chewed.
The flavor remained mild, but a slightly bitter aftertaste began to build. Despite his former caution, he picked a second leaf and began chewing it as well. The bitterness grew stronger, along with a smoky flavor that hadn’t been noticeable before. “This would go well with some of the milder greens,” observed Will.
The candle flame was shifting now, changing color. It had done that before, but in the past it had always been shades of yellow or orange. Now it had turned pink and was shading toward lavender. “That’s odd,” he muttered.
Then the ground fell away from his feet, and he found himself spinning. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. He couldn’t think at all. The world had become a swirling mix of colors, and he could only watch, mesmerized as his body melted into the earth that reached up to swallow him.
A timeless period followed, filled only by shapes, textures, and strange colors. His body was gone; he was gone. His self had faded away to join the infinite beauty that surrounded him. Emotions remained to him, but he felt no panic or fear, only peaceful curiosity, awakened by his newfound connection to the universe.
Eventually the experience faded, and he discovered himself again, lying quietly on the forest floor. The treetops swayed in the wind above him, somehow reflecting the gentle motion of his own soul. From the sun and the angle of the shadows, he could tell that less than an hour had passed, but although his mind seemed to have recovered, the world was not the same.
Squinting, Will tried to focus his eyes, but no matter how he tried, his vision remained a mixture of perfectly normal shapes and bizarre streamers of color. It was similar to the glimpses he had seen in plants before, but now it was everywhere. He could see energy pulsing within the trees, moving to a slow, steady beat. Wide, diffuse bands of light that were almost too faint to see floated through the air, moving around him as though he had fallen into some giant, ghostly river. More energy moved through the earth beneath his feet.
Everything was connected.
Then Will noticed the candle, which had fallen to the ground beside him. It hadn’t changed, but he could see a slender thread of light connecting it to his chest. Is this magic? he wondered. Am I seeing magic?
The sound of laughter floated to him through the trees in high tones. A girl? Will stood and looked around but saw no one close by. Bending over, he reclaimed his candle and axe, then he took a step in the direction he thought he had heard the laughter coming from.
The sound vanished, and somehow he felt he had moved the wrong way. Stepping back, he heard the girl’s laughter again. Turning his head from side to side, he could see the faint streamers of light diverged there, slipping into two similar but different forests. Not that way, this way. Acting on instinct, he turned a different direction—it was hard to describe, but he stepped sideways, entering the other forest. The laughter grew louder.