The Light at the End of the Tunnel
Chapter 14
The afternoon sun sprinkled through the canopy. Thousands of thin slicing rays danced on the blue ridge haze like long, spindly fingers. The rain had ceased and the warm breath of the day was upon the forest.
From around an oak and poplar, a small burst of light zipped through the branches at the speed of sound like a mad-dashing insect. It zigged, it zagged, and it trailed a brilliant streak of green and reddish orange behind it, ducking under fallen limbs and crashing through holly bushes and honeysuckle.
It was a faerie; specifically, one of the Yunwi Tsunsdi, and her name was Noya. Her skin was as green as the Kenai River. Translucent wings on her back shimmered red and orange when the sun hit them, yet glowed dim green in the shade. She wore a long, brown and red dress made from cardinal feathers, tied with sassafras stems, and sported a bloomed violet in her wavy, red hair which right now was straight as an arrow behind her, touching the end of her calves.
She raced for her life as an unfamiliar, large-headed bird with transfixed eyes, rapacious beak, gray-white wings, and deadly, hooked talons was hot on her heels and seeking feverishly to snatch a quick, albeit difficult, snack.
Noya’s day hadn’t been good from the start, except for the violet she had found that morning; for she always loved bright and lovely things, on account that she was a Laurel faerie, and the Laurel Clan always love merriment, beauty, and mischief.
She usually spent her days frolicking, swimming, and dancing in the sunlight. But ever since she had lost her home to that big, ugly oaf, four weeks prior, she had spent her days wandering in sadness around the forest. Thereafter, she searched for a place as beautiful as her home on the lake, but nothing could compare.
She had tried finding a place in a beautiful sugar-berry, but her store of blueberry scones and blackberry pudding was raided by ants the very next morning. The river pond wasn’t a good fit because the Rock Clan had already taken residence there, and had no patience for a little wild-child like Noya. Finally, she ended up on the far side of the enclave, at the north end of Newton; but after a week of thinking she had found a good home, this enormous, evil raptor came bounding out of the treetop for her and wouldn’t let up.
She had been picking violets under the rolling blue haze, near the shadow of the grazing whitetails, when the gray bird ambushed her. If it weren’t for the cautious doe’s sudden jolt, Noya would have been in the evil bird’s talons. She bounced off the ground and took to the air like a missile while the bird chased her like it had a mission sent from Hell.
All morning long she weaved and zipped through the forest, hugging the underbrush down low, her only advantage over the much faster bird of prey. She crossed south through Newton, cut west along Dark Canyon, and circled back northeast again up Merry-Hollow, before weaving over the Pactolus. but nothing could shake the determined deadly bird from her.
She was beginning to lose hope when she saw, just out of the corner of her lightning fast eye, an old chipmunk hole near Fool’s Pass, and she dove inside. The bird dropped on the hole a thousandth of a second later and thrashed at the roots and leaves, jabbing its long beak down the opening and screeching at her. The bird would not let up, and by its unabashed behavior, it was obvious it had some unknown score to settle.
Noya held her breath in the chipmunk chamber, waiting, waiting, and waiting. But, no matter how long she stayed put, the bird scurried and hopped about outside, perched on a maple sapling and intent on getting its meal.
In the darkness Noya’s wings glowed green, and beneath her, they revealed a passage opening a few feet below. Resisting her natural wisdom to fly back into the beautiful sunshine, she forced herself to crawl deeper into the earth like a mole.
Eventually the tunnel dropped her into a low chamber, surrounded by black, crystalline rock. Her glowing wings directed her through a labyrinth of vast and twisting tunnels entrenched by an underground river. Carefully, she fluttered along the chamber ceiling, keeping the splashing water away from her delicate wings.
Presently, claustrophobia set in and exhausted her. She became frantic, desperate for a way out. The danger of the hungry bird was gone, but no faerie likes to be away from the sun for an extended period of time. It is known that even at night, faeries will huddle together, naturally seeking one another’s dim glow. Therefore, the underground is unbearable to them; the stress of losing light can kill them, or what’s worse, make them bent and evil.
She fluttered in spastic rhythm above the river for a few more hundred yards, begging for light, until…There! At the end of a long, shimmering tunnel, a beam of golden blue light marked the way out.
Her heart leapt, and feverishly, she made her assent out of the darkness. But something stopped her; at first she suspected it sounded like the echoing caw of a raven, but after inclining her ear more intently, she discerned it was a voice screaming. More importantly, it was the cries of children, and no Yunwi Tsunsdi alive can resist the responsibility of helping a child in need.
Instinct outweighed her natural fears, and she turned back on herself, speeding through a series of tunnels toward the young voices. Confused and confounded by the notion of children down here, she kept racing forward until the tunnel came to the low opening of a monstrous chamber.
The river was very close to her now, but she managed to squeeze through without much water spritzing her wings. As she carefully flitted her way round the mouth of the passage, she saw four little heads bobbing in the river. Above them shone the ominous alluring light of the Uktena, lake serpent.
Panic and action filled her heart like the violent embrace a parent feels when they see their unsuspecting child about to step off a cliff. Uktena hadn’t revealed himself yet, but why were the children were not running away?
A deep, ugly hiss boomed in the cavern, and sent bats sprawling from the ceiling. Before she had time to zoom to the aid of the four children, she was getting pounded and beaten on all sides by foolish, discombobulated bats; their flapping black wings shrouded her path and made her lose all sense of direction.
There! The children had somehow got behind her, but—oh, no!—the Uktena had already revealed his monstrous glory; the spiked antlers protruding over his glowing crest.
His toxic fumes filled the chamber, and Noya gagged. The children were wildly swimming toward her; the Uktena dove into the water and serpentined after them. Noya kicked a brainless bat out of her way and flurried forward in the darkness.
***
The water palpated in little volcanoes underneath Aaron and the Dolor children; the stench poured down from above; they screamed into the water as they swam faster than they ever had in their short lives.
“Kep goin!” Aaron hollered. “Kep goin!”
Herbert looked away from the tail of the menacing monster as it dove beneath them, and peered ahead into the darkness. Over Aaron’s shoulder he saw the green light shimmering brighter and brighter, heading straight for them; it was an emerald faerie, zipping through the nonsensical flutter of the bats.
The red horn of the Uktena rose from the water beneath Marian; its blazing diamond-crest erupted next; she closed her eyes and kept swimming, bracing her heart for what was to come.
The emerald faerie was a lightning bolt upon them; she flew into Aaron’s face, barely missed him, halted, and exploded into a vibrant white flash. Light poured like soft milk through every crack of the chamber; the entire cucumber dome lit as if made of white fire; the water as bright as a beach on a summer day; the children and beast were blinded. A pair of ivory fangs snapped inches from Marian’s face before retreating underwater and swimming away from the bright light, as it slowly turned from white to gold to a dim emerald green.
But before the children could regain their senses, the river, much more rapid at the end of the tunnel, swept them through the narrow mouth at the north end and propelled them at topsy-turvy speeds through a series of underground passages. The children banked, left, right, up, down, over, in, and out, while keeping their heads up and growing fearful of what rocks they must avoid yet ever more relieved that they were gaining distance away from the Uktena.
After several minutes, the water slowed and they caught a glimpse of light ahead; smooth, slick rocks became rough, loose pebbles under their feet. They clasped one another’s hands and stood with the water up to their waists. The rushing water continued to pound them forward, onward to the cave outlet, but they were walking now, and far from Uktena’s chamber.
The water shallowed to a few inches. They gasped for breath, relieved, grateful, and collapsed in a laughing huddle of arms, legs, and spluttering tears.
On the top of Herbert’s head lay a little green faerie, gasping for air and visibly weak.
Esther stopped her cheering to watch the panting little faerie on Herbert’s head. “Are you alright, little pixie?” She asked gently.
Faeries cannot speak in our human languages, but Noya smiled and patted Herbert’s head while she closed her eyes to rest; her little chest beat up and down as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.
“Thank you so much for saving us,” Marian whispered to the little lady. “We would be dead without you.”
Herbert gently put the sleeping faerie in his shirt pocket.
“We-all needs to get outta this cave,” Aaron said.
Keith G. Alderman 