Ayla's Arc

Chapter 3 of 2

Ayla sat on the fur couch beside Jerry. The cat curled between them. He had confirmed the couch, the lamp, the cat were real. But Jerry himself was the one thing she could not test. He talked, he smiled, he scratched the cat's ear. A vision could do all that. If she gave him her trust and he dissolved like morning fog, she would lose the valley chasing a ghost. Twelve people waited downriver for a home. She needed to know he was a man, not a trick. "How do I know you're real?" she asked. "The couch I can throw rocks at. You, I can't." Jerry laughed. He reached for a long pipe by the firepit and packed it. "Smart question. Most folks never ask it." He struck a match. "The valley makes pictures. It can't make smoke you can breathe." He drew on the pipe and blew a slow cloud toward her face. It stung her eyes. She coughed. It smelled sharp and sweet and clung to her hair. A vision could not fill her lungs. A vision could not make her cough. Her shoulders loosened. He was real. The relief lasted one breath. Leaves parted at the far trunk. A huge figure ducked under them, far taller than any man. He stood near ten feet, wrapped in a blue robe stitched with small stars. A white beard hung to his belt. He gripped an oak staff, and a brown mouse rode his shoulder. He planted the staff in the dirt and studied Ayla without a smile. "You brought a guest," the tall one said to Jerry. His voice was slow and deep. "You know this valley does not like strangers." Jerry waved the pipe. "Easy, Zork. She passed the smoke test. She's flesh." He turned to Ayla. "Zork keeps the valley. He reads it better than I do." Ayla rose. Her head reached the giant's chest. The mouse watched her with black eyes. Zork leaned on his staff and looked her over, the way a farmer checks ground before planting. "The commune," Zork said. "Twelve souls. Jerry told me." He tapped the staff once. "I will not stop you. But the valley tests everyone who stays. It showed you a false couch. It will show your twelve far worse." He pointed the staff toward the ridge. Beyond the leaves, a pale blue castle rose where none had stood before, towers crowned with a bright lightning mark. "That is not there. It wants you to walk to it. If your people chase what the valley paints, they will wander until they starve." The castle flickered and was gone. "Jerry lets you stay," Zork said. "I give the same leave. But the leave is the easy part." He turned back toward the trees. "Teach your twelve to tell the smoke from the picture. If you can't, this valley will swallow them whole."