Tree Singer

she’d been dreaming, the visions flowed in.
The aspens sent pictures of their history. They were all connected, Mayten realized. As though they’d all come from the same root source yet were not the same. They were introducing themselves to her in a new way, building a deeper relationship. She could almost see distinct personalities as she brushed the awareness of different trees. Was one shy, another almost demanding her attention?
Her vision of the trees kept expanding, getting bigger. The trees were so much more than she’d originally thought. They were individuals, but they were also connected by species like the people in her clan. Broader still, they connected through their root system to each other and through birds and insects who traveled among them like messengers, connecting throughout the island. She suspected they were connected beyond the island somehow, but the thought overwhelmed her.
~ * ~
They walked through the day taking only one short break and eventually found a nice flat spot to stop for the night. The trees opened up into a small meadow. Each camp felt the same, yet each was lovely in its own way. Mayten and Cather started toward the far side of the camp to gather wood.
Tray turned and then paused. “Guess I’ll go over there and gather some wood.” He pointed in the opposite direction of the girls.
That was their normal routine—she and Cather would go one way and he’d go the other. Was he too torn in his new role as leader to admit that he was scared?
“Wait,” Cather said, “Could you maybe stay with us? You know, for protection?”
“Sure,” he agreed, relief evident on his face. “For protection.”
They moved through the trees together, gathering small branches and broken twigs for the fire.
Once again, Cather proved she understood boys in a way Mayten never could. But false dependence? Was that what boys wanted in a girl?
If it was, she’d be lucky to ever find a mate. She’d never know when to pretend to need help.
There had to be men like her da, Mayten decided as she added another branch to the pile in her arms. He was good and kind and didn’t seem to mind her mother’s strength and confidence. One time she had entered the kitchen and heard him say to her mother, “Castanea, you’re as stubborn as a mule, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Then they’d kissed. It seemed like her parents were always kissing, which was why she had so many brothers and sisters.
Still, if there were men like her da in the world, maybe someday she’d find one worth kissing.
Once again, she found herself missing her family—even her mother—so much it hurt. Her anger toward her mother was a thing of the past. What if she died out here like Hunter? What if the last thing her mother had to remember her by was a grumpy scowl?
She’d almost filled her arms when she noticed Cather and Tray working side by side. Cather bent down to pick up another branch and placed it on the wood already piled high in Tray’s arms. Tray just watched, a silly grin stretching his face wide.
Could it be that Cather’s years of waiting for that hard-headed boy-child were finally paying off? Just because Cather pretended to need his protection?
Or was it the close brushes with death they’d experienced over the last two days?
Maybe, she thought a bit more generously, his being thrust into a leadership position, to bear the responsibility of being a man, had made him more aware that Cather was a woman.
Mayten snorted and headed back to the camp with her armload of wood, whistling for Anatolian to follow. Anatolian had been rolling in the dirt and was a dusty mess. She dumped her load of wood and found a small pinecone.
“Come on, boy. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Anatolian’s tongue lolled from his mouth as she worked carefully to untangle his knots and get rid of the burs and dust. She had the fire started and Hunter’s pot simmering with a meat stew by the time the other two wandered in.
“Took you long enough,” she said, surprised at the pang that made her stomach feel pinched. She was happy for them—but why did they have to stay gone so long?
The glowing smile on Cather’s face made the world seem brighter. Mayten’s foul mood melted. She couldn’t be mad at her friends. It would be nice if at least one good thing came out of this trip.
She had a chance to reconsider her position during dinner. She’d never seen so many ‘googly eyes’ before.
Finally, she could stomach it no longer. “Tray, what did Adven tell you about the cat’s attack? Why didn’t Hunter sense the cat? Don’t woodsmen learn to sense animals—especially dangerous ones—as part of their calling?”
Tray picked up a handful of pine needles and tossed them into the fire one by one. The needles flashed into flame, quickly curling into ash. The smell of burning pine sap hung in the air.
“Adven and Hunter were arguing about something,” he finally said. “That’s why Hunter didn’t sense the lion. Adven was pretty broken up about it. Thought it was his fault.”
Mayten snorted. “Broken up? That’s hard to picture.”
Tray jumped to his feet. “How can you say that? Hunter was like a little brother to Adven. And what he has to do . . . you have no idea how hard that will be.”
Mayten flushed with guilt. She’d never seen Tray this angry before. “I’m sorry, Tray. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve just never seen him anything but mad. I don’t know why he hates me.”
“It’s not just you. He hates all singers.”
Mayten flushed with heat that had nothing to do with the fire. Singers were gentle people, loved by everybody. She bolted to her feet, facing him across the fire. “What has a singer ever done to hurt him?”
Tray glared at her. He opened his mouth. Shut it again.
Anatolian rose and pressed against her leg, alert, but looking a bit confused.
Cather stood and