The tracking charm led Star and Stew right up to the edge of the river and beckoned at the other side. The current rushed along, sloshing water up on the banks. Star dismounted slowly. She saw no signs of the ogres’ crossing. Dread bubbled up inside of her as she considered, again, what would drive the creatures to actions so against their nature. Remembering the apparition in the field, Star shuddered and wondered no further. It would have many tricks and could invade the ogres’ simple minds with ease.
Scanning the opposite edge of the river, Star noticed two poorly constructed rafts—logs and twigs lashed together in a haphazard way with knotted rope. Unlike ogres, she could not tear down tree trunks with her bare hands and it would take an entire day to scavenge enough down wood to create a raft big enough for herself and her horse. Star crouched down on the riverbank and picked up a handful of gravel.
Unbidden, a memory of her mother pressed itself upon her. Star had seen six winters at the time of the memory. She walked along, hand in hand with her mother. On her mother’s other arm was a basket of plants they had collected at the edge of the woods and were taking home to dry. “Nature loves her children very much,” explained her mother. “She provides everything they need, just at the time they need it.” Star’s mother plucked one stem out of the basket from among the many. “Take tynslvine, for example. When I was a small child, there came a dark wizard out of the mountains to the North. He made his stronghold in that pass—” she put her hand on Star’s shoulder and pointed, “—the one where the sun sets in the winter. He had the gaze of an ogre and more power than the entire valley combined. He seemed immune to herbs and charms. He unleashed dark terrors on the valley and if he caught you in his ogre’s trance, he absorbed your essence until there was no life left.”
Star’s eyes were as big as serving platters, frightened by the tale and surprised at the gruesome detail that her mother was sharing. “But you had the talent, Mama. Weren’t you safe?”
“No one was safe—especially those with the talent. If you had the talent, he didn’t consume you wholly. He kept you alive and drew on your power. One girl could sometimes glimpse the future. He kept her locked deep in the caverns of his stronghold and used her to see what we would do next. The wizard only allowed plants with no known use to grow in his stronghold. One day, among the saberleaf, the girl found a patch of tynslvine. When she touched it, the leaves began to shine like the reflection of the sun off the washtub. She picked a stem and tried to tear it in two, but it was too strong. Murmuring charms, the girl caused the tynslvine to lengthen and grow stronger, until she had a length of cord that could not be broken. She used it to overpower her guards and climb down the mountains. Nature provided when her one of her children needed her most and the girl was able to escape and return to her family.”
That was how her mother had always taught—by telling a story. Thinking again of her current predicament, Star could not think of a single thing that nature could provide to get her across the river. There may be plants to grow rope, but none that Star knew of would grow a bridge. What other plants had her mother taught her about that day?
“But Mama,” asked six-year-old Star, “what happened to the dark wizard? How did the people of the valley finally defeat him?”
“Have you ever seen Maid’s Moss?” responded her mother. “We use it for cleaning because it is so absorbent. Well, the girl who escaped the wizard had a plan. Together with her sister, the two of them gathered as much of the moss as they could find. You see, Maid’s Moss doesn’t just absorb water; it soaks up whatever is the most concentrated in its surroundings. Most of the time, that’s air. When we clean, it is surrounded by water, soap, and dirt. The girls, however, found the dark wizard and bombarded him with clumps of the plant. They stuck to him, sucking his power out of him just as he had done to people with the talent. He began shrinking and bending over. Soon, all that was left of this great dark wizard was a shriveled old man. Like his victims, he did not die and his power would eventually return. Even without his great power, no one could destroy him, so they put him in the same cavern he had hid the girl and blocked the entrance, first with a layer of Maid’s Moss, and then a layer of stone. Guards were placed at the entrance to the cavern and there he has remained ever since.”
Her mother had taught her about all the plants in the basket that day. Casting her eyes about again, they fell on a patch of Maid’s Moss. She looked back at the river again and smiled brightly. If there was enough Moss, her plan just might work.
