The Road to Thunder

Kills-in-the-Rain counted twenty of them. Five groups of four, positioned to surround them, each aiming their deadly fire-sticks at her and her four friends. They would be killed in moments. Rootmen despised her people. To die now, this way, after everything… without finding her baby brothers. What would happen to them?

The Rootmen did not fire. Instead another Rootwoman, unarmed, emerged from the woods. She walked within striking distance of Talks-with-Beasts. She knew who was their leader because she was one, too.

“I am the chief of these-few Rootmen. You are here seeking the two boys.”

Kills-in-the-Rain gasped.

“Yes. They were here.”

Were. That was all Kills-in-the-Rain heard. “They were here.”

Speaks-with-Beasts spoke for her.

“Where are they?”

The Rootmen’s chief seemed to take years to answer. “Gone. A dragontree took them.”

“A what?” Kills-in-the-Rain was not sure who asked. Maybe she had. Maybe Speaks-with-Beasts. Maybe Makes-Fists. Was it Water? No, he never spoke. It didn’t matter.

“A dragontree. A maple-dragon, we-few am sure. We-all Rootfolk still study the dragon forestry, though you T’hills have all forgotten…”

The Rootmen chief paused, waiting for one of the outsiders to take the bait, to deny his accusation. None spoke. No one saw Water smile. He knew.

The others had no time for ancient grudges. Kills-in-the-Rain spoke up finally. “Please just tell us what you saw.”

“Alright. The boys were all alone. Little. We-few saw them toddling up from the flood, soaked, all-bedraggled, but seeming still strong and determined for tykes. Lost for sure, unsure. Walking from the still swollen river. Toward the Roots. Two tiny T’hill children. Then we saw her. The maple-dragon. She drop glided right down a-next the boys. Gentle. They were barely toddling but just looked up at the beast, quiet. Then the beautiful creature about sniffed the tiny things and we-few swear…” The chief of the Rootmen stopped.

This exchange, this talk, was likely the longest dialogue between Rootmen and T’hills in generations. Every one of them there knew this. The Red Flood and all the devastation it brought, most especially the springing up of the dragontrees, had imposed a natural hiatus to hostilities between the two people. Their fathers and fathersback had raided each other’s lands and spilled each other's blood. The return of the dragontrees placed both their peoples now in a shared understanding. All their energy needed to be spent rebuilding and protecting themselves from this new thunder.

“We-few swear their eyes contacted, the two boys’ and the beast-tree’s. Gazed. That maple beast meant no harm. She near encircle them and crane her neck ‘round, up and all-round. Sniffing. Listening-all. She knew we-few were close. She knew they alone were wrong. They did not belong out here… ‘n then she…”

The chief raised her face to the sky, her eyes and one outstretched arm tracing the route the maple-dragon had taken. East, back toward the Hillands.

Kills-in-the-Rain could barely speak. “Did it hurt them?”

The Rootmen’s chief looked at her. “It? The maple-dragon? I told you-few. She. Not ‘it.’”

Kills-in-the-Rain didn’t know whether to scream or weep. “Fine. She. Did she hurt them?”

“No, lass. I told you that a-too. Maple-dragon seemed gentle. She took them in her root-claws, one in each, like the babes they are ‘n she lofted ‘n flew back toward the swollen river ‘n your Hills, I suspect… back to Dragontree Forest.”

The band of T’hills all stood crestfallen, except for Speaks-to-Beasts and Water. They held each other’s gaze, one challenging the other to speak. Neither did.

The Rootmen’s chief broke the silence. “We-all then leave you wit’cha grief. As’n children are children, your’n our our’n, two at a time no less, we-all share your’n loss. This harm is such baddest we-few promise to do no more’n. We-few look to you-few to leave here w’out seeking no harm ‘pon any Rootmen nor our-all holdings.”

Speaks-to-Beasts nodded. “We came not to harm any Rootmen and have no desire for any of your-all holdings. We will go no further into the Roots.”

The band of Rootmen all backed away, keeping their firesticks trained upon the five T’hills. Long ages of distrust and ancient feuds could not be entirely forgotten. Each of the T’hills knew that the twenty or so Rootmen they could see were likely only a small portion of the band, and how close they had all come to being slaughtered.

Just as quickly as they had appeared, surrounding them, they vanished into the rocky woods. Then the T’hills were alone again, now feeling more alone than they had ever been.

The silence was overwhelming. Could this now be a world that would never hear the little boys’ laughter, like a harmony of joy? Kills-in-the-Rain almost wept. “They’re lost then. Gone… There’s no way there…”

“No. We’re going on. We will find them.”

“Captain, please. We can’t just walk into the Hills. Especially now. Even if we could… Dragontree Forest… There’s no way there.”

“Dragontrees get there. So can we-”

“They fly, Captain! Can we fly?”

“No…” Speaks-to-Beasts looked at Fears-the-Moonless-Night, who returned a long, steady gaze and shook his head. The Captain held his gaze upon his life-long friend, his brother, with whom he had shared twelve Renamings.

Fears-the-Moonless-Night finally relented, nodded, and turned to the others. “The Dead Religions were not wrong about everything. That is why we still study their texts.”

Kills-in-the-Rain could not contain herself. Religion? “What are you talking about? What does that have to do with my baby brothers? Speak clearly!”

Fears-the-Moonless-Night turned to look directly at her. “You know the Uprooted Gospels better than anyone here, Kills-in. Chapter two, verse five and six.”

She held in the explosion building inside her. “WHAT?”

Fears-the-Moonless-Night of the Forthills almost whispered his response, “Recite it.”

She looked at him. What was he talking about? “What…? We don’t have time for this.” She turned to Speaks-to-Beasts. “Capt-...”

He interrupted her, “No. What are the words? Tell us, impatient one.”

She sighed, crushed and enraged all at once. “Fine. Two, five and six…? ‘The righteous see the way to the forest where grow sacred Dragontrees. They alone can tread the road to thunder and perish not…’”

She let that set in. “But that can’t be…” Kills-in-the-Rain grew silent and looked back at Fears-the-Moonless-Night, then back to the others, one by one. Water, as always, stood smiling and quiet.

They were all silent now. She hoped someone would break, ask the question she could not wrap her head around. Finally Swims-Fastest, her closest, dearest friend, did.

“Are you saying Thunder Road is… real?”

Speaks-to-Beasts nodded.

He said nothing, held his head high, gazing in a way only he could, so that each of the other companions felt he stared into each of their eyes simultaneously, then turned and walked away from them, toward the east. He had not taken more than three strides before one after the next they followed after him, making no sound.

Except Kills-in-the-Rain. She could not move, or did not want to. They were out of sight in minutes. She was alone. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply. A long, gentle wind rustled the leaves on the nearby trees, and she heard in that noise, she thought, the music of young, silly boys laughing.

She caught up to the others in a moment, the wind still whistling behind them.