Dragonfly Web: Whitestuff

Twenty Five | Proxy In Hiding

That night Ciara curled on the rocks near the rim of the cave and stayed awake watching the moon. "Walter, How can I go to the Spire with Skye-voice, tomorrow? I can't even speak out loud in my class."

Both thoughts were disturbing. Why do I remember having a class? I haven't bonded to Circles. Which circle do I have the pictures of in my head? But she couldn't find more of her 'class' memories she could bring forward to think about more. "Walter? Are you there?"

I promised Skye that I would, but I'm much too afraid. I won't even have my own voice and he's just going to scare their whole Council—the magi—I know it. Which is likely what he's been doing before.

"Walter. You're no help. Where are you?" Skye's got to be wrong. I'm not the Proxy. It's not me! Speak up at Council? Her fear was paralyzing. How can I? I'm just a girl.  I'm not even a student! I don't have magic—

And before Ciara even knew what she was doing, she ran.

She leaped down the rocks of the cliff in bare feet, while Skye snored above. Further up the field she paused to put her boots back on and dashed, without thought, in the direction of moonlight on to the rainbow valley ahead and then right.

Be careful! Don't wander into the kids' camps TJ said would be out here.

She travelled through short grass and long, through flowers in their slumber, small streams which twinkled in moonlight and, at last, past a large out-jutting portion of mountain—all the while making certain to not cross the tracks of unexpected people.

Now she was far beyond the camp and the school and the magi and students. Even Skye wouldn't know where she'd gone. Out of breath and feeling bad about what she'd done—abandoning Skye—she wanted to sit down and wail. Someone might hear me! She needed somewhere to hide.

She clambered around the jutting of the enormous reaching arm of the mountain and looked for a crevice between large boulders. The rocks she came to weren't large enough—only shale. And above her on the ridge, a lone coyote was watching, at last trotting off.

So, she went further.

She stumbled through lower bushes and shorter grass, now seeming still in the moonlight. There was no breeze. She assessed the alcove she'd found herself in. She'd gained a little height climbing in the broad swath of the large mountain range and used her new perspective to look down far behind her.

From here she could only just see the Spire, to the side of her vision. The school would soon be quite out of her view if she travelled any farther.

A small trickle of water wound its way across from the top of the alcove and down to the valley the same way she'd found her path up. With the breezes so still, she hoped the moon would have no clouds crossing its face or she'd become submerged in the darkness. I'd not know at all where I was.

Only the stream seemed to whisper to her. Its glittering silver spoke a language she felt that she knew. She ate berries and slurped up some water. 

She wiped the sweat from her face with her hands and the front of her shirt. She could see in the moonlight that she'd smeared stains all over herself. They were a purply shade of the usual red-pink. Now I really can't go! I look more like a wild-child than a Skye-voice's Proxy!

Ciara heard, "Squeak," and a rustling sound.

Walter! I never thought I'd be glad to hear you so near! She laughed.

And then she felt heart-sick for breaking her promise. If I ran away, I'd be letting Skye down. I need to think. What do I do?

Her eyes searched hurriedly for a place to rest and now noticed a large tree far in the distance. The tree felt more inviting than any place else. It was bushy, with large reassuring branches extending outwards and upwards like big welcome arms.

She suddenly felt more home than ever before here. I could climb that and hide!

She set out for the old tree, still keeping watch for a hint of tracks and any students about.  She wouldn't let herself be consumed by any emotions until she was safely aloft in its branches.

The moonlight held steady, and the soil was still soft. It had not dried hard in the heat. This length of the valley was small and narrow, high up between mountains, off out of sight—in its own world. Spring had come later in here.

She kept her eyes both on the ground and took occasional glimpses as she walked to the tree—scanning. I 'feel' like a tracker. Am I? Is that what I am?

She thought about all that Skye-voice had taught her. Would my inner dual nature know what I am? The idea distracted her, and she became caught up in pondering it. Wait. What's that? A deep impression in the ground caught her attention.

These are tracks!

Walter squeaked.

And they were big tracks—not like any she'd seen here before.

Ciara bent to the ground. She touched her fingers to the earth and measured the foot lengths against her hand. Now I know I really feel like a tracker. Her instincts spoke loudly, with all the common sense she knew she had within her.

Her brain worked it around. How big would the creature need to have been to have his weight make the depth of these prints? Big. She pictured an imposing creature in her mind.

Then it struck her. She knew what sort of beast this was. And not only that, but thanks to Skye's training, she suddenly believed she knew exactly what might have caused it to come here.

Ciara had a theory. There'd be no time for tears. She also thought she knew what had happened to Aspher, the mascot! She looked at the tree and then ran straight to it, eager to confirm her suspicions.

She put her hand on the bark. "I know you! I feel home in both worlds!" She crawled on top of a large flat boulder that sat right by the tree's roots. She reached for a branch, looked for a foothold—right where she expected it to be—and moved forward to climb.

Before she could go any further, she heard a voice in the dark. "Hey, what the—?"

It was familiar—the young voice of a boy. She recognized it! The voice from the shadows to her right among rocks belonged to the boy who'd spoken to Robesaille and Magtha—the boy from the Spire.

"You'd better not climb that. You'd better come down. That tree is not safe any more. It's a terribly old tree."

"I think that it's safe." She had no clear reason for defending the tree, only a sense of kinship—it was her tree. Mine.

"Why are you here?" He sounded confused as to why anyone might be out in the moonlight.

"I think I've found the—dragon you sought." Ciara couldn't believe what had come from her mouth, but she felt this now had changed things.

He frowned. "How do you know—?"

Before he could finish, Ciara found her footholds and shot up the tree.  

The boy, Alphonse, approached the bottom and watched her—marvelling now at the speed she'd gone up. And, as she peered back down at his scarred face, she wondered how that might have happened. But she didn't have time to pause. She continued to climb.

She knew just where she was going. She felt she knew just which branch the right one might be!

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