Chapter 5, Part iv

“River! What are you doing here?” Hector gawked in amazement.

River laughed amiably. “Do you think the togom would send you alone to find the Jabberwock? I'm here to help. And look, I brought some food for you. I figured you'd be starving when I found you.” He produced two large handfuls of dried meat and other useful-looking trail food that Hector didn't recognize. He and Burr gratefully scarfed them down. River laughed at the sight. “If I'd have known how comical you two are, I would have caught up with you sooner!”

Hector grunted with pleasure as he gnawed on the meat. He wished he had Burr's sharp teeth. “Wow, you're a real life-saver!” he said between bites. “But how did you follow us, anyway? We were on the Bandersnatch; that's how we got over the mountains.”

“I'm a resourceful guy,” he shrugged humbly. “Comes from spending your life with the tribe shaman. So, it looks like you're hopelessly lost. Would you accept my help in getting to the Tumtum Tree?”

“What's that?” Hector asked, and instinctively opened his journal to write with the jerky clamped between his teeth. Burr wouldn't stop looking strangely at River, as if he didn't trust him. Hector decided to simply be glad that the Tove had showed up when he did and not ask why.

“It's the place where the Jabberwock sleeps,” River explained. “You'll have to find the tree before slaying the Jabberwock. And where's Aric? And Lilly?”

“They went off different ways, to find the... er, wherever it was we were going. The Tumtum Tree, I suppose...” He was going to say more, but he caught the suspicious glance that Burr had aimed at him. Hector shut his mouth.

“Okay,” River nodded agreeably. “Right. We've got to find them, too. They're likely starving to death as well, though Lilly is good at finding food on her own. Follow me, I'll take you to the right place.”

“Thank you!” Hector gushed. River set off at a brisk pace into the Tulgey Wood, and they had no choice but to follow. Out of the corner of his eye Hector saw Burr mouthing something silently to him, but being unused to reading Tovish lips he couldn't understand. It seemed urgent, whatever he was trying to say, for Burr's eyes were wide with caution. Hector nodded in agreement. It was indeed strange that River would appear out of nowhere like this, but they didn't have any choice but to follow him.

*

Lilly turned one last time, walked a few paces, brushed past the wall of old vines and leaves that blocked her way and emerged from the dark maze.

She took a deep breath of awe as she beheld her surroundings. Here, the trees were not sickly and forgotten in appearance, but mature and sturdy. What surprised her was not their healthy appearance but the etchings that covered their smooth bark; she recognized them for Gimble carvings. Hundreds upon thousands of them, from the farthest tip of the highest branch, down to the very roots. Lilly scraped some earth from the base of the nearest tree and found that even beneath the soil the roots had been written upon.

And all of the writings were glowing green. A warm, verdant light filled the glade, making it easy to read the trees and find her way around; Lilly realized that these Gimble-trees were arranged in a large circle, easily twice the size of the togom's Gimble glade in Noosta; in the center was a tree, bigger and apparently older than the others.

Lilly took a moment to read the Gimble written all over the forest.

… and then the Growing Ones said to the Hopeful King, We shall not take the seed, save ye shall trade it for an share of deer meat …

And upon another tree:

Prince Glacier gave to his companion the green stone of authority, and the companion did take it to the temple for safekeeping...

“They are records of the Aztlav,” Lilly whispered to herself. “These writing are ancient... There are so many of them. All of them together must be the entire history of the tribe since its creation.” She walked slowly among them, completely entranced by their comforting glow. The trees seemed to hum with the Wabe-energy of the scripture carved into their bark. “So much history...” she mused. “All of it trapped here, where no-one can find it. If only I could take it back to Noosta...” She inhaled deeply through her nose, relishing the smell of rich earth and growing plants.

Lilly's eyes wandered and settled on the central tree. Unlike the smaller ones surrounding it, it didn't glow, and she couldn't see any Gimble written on it. As she approached the ancient tower of trunk and leaves, she realized that this tree was of a different species than its neighbors. Its bark was thick and rough, mottled in some places. She touched one of its huge roots, and gasped as the seemingly strong wood crumbled away lifelessly in her hand. She dropped the rotted fibers and took a closer look. Sure enough, there were a startlingly large number of places on the tree where the wood had died, and the bark was in the process of disintegrating into useless flakes.

“What is this place?” Lilly asked herself. She paced carefully around the giant tree, examining it. It didn't seem to have any Gimble. If it was dying, it wasn't dying naturally, for its broad leaves were still green. As an experiment, she used her Gyre; she formed a small ball of air between her hands and released it upward. It shot up into the space above her.

It contacted the leaves above, and a thrill of horror filled Lilly's stomach as she saw the leaves explode into green dust, which gently drifted down like a diseased cloud. She stared with confusion at the hole she had punched in the canopy; gray daylight streamed in through the hole.

“So strange,” Lilly whispered, and took a few more steps. She wasn't watching her feet, though, and she stumbled over a protruding root. She caught herself just before hitting the ground, but when she looked up, she realized with a terrible shock that she wasn't alone.

(Graphic 5.7: Lilly gapes in shock at an aged, Tovish woman slouched against the tree, almost hidden in the folds of the thick bark. Even though the woman's body is shriveled with age and her fur unkempt, her eyes are bright and piercing. She stares fixedly at Lilly.)

“You are the Guide,” said the strange woman. Her voice was faint, but calm and controlled. She had spoken in surprisingly modern Tovish; from the looks of things and from what she knew about the Tulgey Wood, this place was centuries old. So what was this aged woman doing here? Lilly blinked in shock before answering.

“Y-yes, I am...”

“Then where are the others?” she demanded. Her eyes were even more piercing than those of Ashes, her own togom. Lilly shifted her feet and twitched her ears in distress.

“They-- we-- we went our separate ways...”

“You fool!” the ancient woman breathed, though at a whisper's volume. She staggered forward, away from the tree, and supported herself on an arching root. Lilly took a step back in intimidation. “You ignorant fool! How could you leave them alone in the Tulgey Wood? Do you not know what horrors might befall them without your knowledge? You arrived here at the Tumtum tree because you are in tune with the Wabe, and you followed the veins of the forest's life, which were speaking to you! But how will they make it here? How will they escape?” Lilly held her ground. The words stung and made her skin feel hot with shame, but after facing the Bandersnatch – and Aric – she felt more resilient to such harsh words.

Having spent her energy, the woman sighed and dropped her head heavily onto her chest. She muttered to herself, and for a moment Lilly fancied that she was mad; but her eyes weren't the eyes of a madwoman, just those of someone used to handling important matters, like a togom or a king.

“Are you a togom?” Lilly asked quietly.

The woman's eyes searched the forest floor restlessly. “Yes... although my work is a bit different than the work of your own togom, Ashes.”

“How so? Do you interpret the Gimble written on all these trees?”

The togom shook her head and waved a paw dismissively at the surrounding trees. “No. Those writings are immaterial, now.”

Lilly cocked her head in confusion. “But those trees hold the history of generations and generations!”

“Meager, unnecessary details. They are distracting.”

“Then what is it that you...” Lilly paused. Something felt strange in this wood; the feeling had been present since she had entered this Gimble glade, and even since Burr had opened the Tulgey Wood with his blood. It was an all-encompassing sense of foreboding, of great and terrible importance. This pale togom and her words seemed to amplify this feeling until it weighed heavily on Lilly's soul. She swallowed. “Then... what is it that you do here, if you are alone?”

Without lifting her head, the togom raised her sharp gray eyes and connected them with Lilly's own. She pointed backward to the bark of the central tree.

“Come, Lilly of Noosta, and let us see if you can read Gimble.”

With great visible effort, the togom pushed away from the root and tottered a few steps forward. Lilly caught her before she fell. The old woman was extremely light and frail, and Lilly carefully escorted her around the tree. Just by looking at the massive thing, Lilly couldn't see anything particularly special about it, apart from the strange patches of rot along its surface.

“Why is the tree dying, togom?”

The shaman barked a bitter laugh and clutched the younger woman's arm. “It is dying because the beast trapped underneath it is stirring from its slumber. It would seem that the Tumtum tree has years yet to live, but it has only a few brief moments left before it crumbles entirely.”

“You mean, weeks? Or days?”

“Hours, child, perhaps minutes,” said the togom gravely, and aimed a harsh, grieving smile up at her. “You think you arrived early, don't you. Or perhaps that you arrived late. But you arrived just in time. Here, let me stand against the tree here...” Gently, as though the togom were made of glass, Lilly leaned her against the crusty bark, where she braced herself with trembling limbs. Her eyes, though, were as strong as ever. She nodded toward a place above them on the tree, so Lilly took a step backward and looked. What she saw filled her with amazement and concern.

(Graphic 5.8: On the tree there is a large, circular glyph surrounded by swirls of drawings and characters. In the center is a drawing of something coiled up and ominous in appearance, and above it there are four people-shaped drawings.)

The whole Gimble was glowing green, except for the very edges of the central circle.

“It is the Jabberwock,” Lilly realized. “That creature in the center. And... on the top, that is me, and Aric, and Burr and Hector. Just like Ashes said...”

“It is the same Wabe, child,” said the Tulgey Wood togom. “The same world. Shamans from all parts of the Wabe have been seeing similar patterns, but only parts of the whole that lies on this tree. Your togom Ashes knew that the four of you would be gathered at Noosta, and she was wise enough to send you here.”

Lilly pondered for a moment before speaking. “Well, we are here in the Tulgey Wood. I suppose that all we must do now is slay the Jabberwock. I will go and fetch Aric and the others from the maze--” She made as if to leave, but the aged shaman reached out and grabbed her wrist. She looked into Lilly's eyes with an oddly sardonic smile.

“No, Lilly of Noosta, you don't need to go. It is too late. They will be brought here soon enough.”

“By whom?” Lilly asked with a quavering voice. Her hackles rose with apprehension.

The togom laughed bitterly. “By the Mome Raths. They are here as well. Come, let us hide and wait for them; it matters not if they capture me – I am simply here to orient you in the right direction, beyond that I no longer serve any purpose – but you are vital to the rest of the quest. Come, come.” She pushed herself off the bark and hobbled toward another protruding root. “There is a hollow here, where they will not think to look.”

“But – how did they follow us here?” Lilly asked incredulously. “We arrived so quickly, so much earlier than we had planned --”

“Did you hear nothing, little pup?” the togom chastised softly. She glanced over her shoulder at Lilly. “I just told you. You did not arrive early. You did not arrive late. You arrived just in time. Here it is; do you wish to enter first, or shall I?”

Lilly stood still, folded her arms and sized up the hunched, frail togom of the Tulgey Wood. She was a strange character, that was sure, but then again so were all togoms Lilly had ever met. Moreover, Lilly was the last Tove to doubt the wisdom of the Gimble – but it was always more of simple predictions and forecasts made by nature itself, and never something set in stone or deterministic; how could she know for sure that everything was going according to the Wabe's needs? Could she trust this stranger to guide and protect her?

Did she have any choice?

“Togom,” Lilly said, as politely as her racing pulse would allow.

The togom peered at her from the dark hole in the tree. “Yes, pup, I hear you.”

“What will we do when the Mome Raths arrive? How will we stop them?”

“They have their place in the Gimble,” the togom reassured her, with all the confidence in the world. “They, too, play a part. Everything will work out.”

“There is much that I still don't know,” Lilly said firmly. Arms still folded, she braced her feet in a defensive stance. “Tell me about the rest of the Gimble prophecy. How are we to defeat the Jabberwock, and also overcome the Mome Raths? I am not hiding in there with you until I know for myself.”

The shaman waved a paw lazily toward the giant, glowing glyphs on the tree. “You know how to read Gimble, little togomila, little togom-in-training. Read it for yourself. But a warning: even now, the Mome Raths are but minutes away from arriving. Come and hide.”

“No,” Lilly insisted. “I don't know if I can trust you. How must we slay the Jabberwock?”

The togom leaned ever so slightly from her hiding-place and glared severely at her. Another bitter smile tugged at her mouth as she spoke. “So. You are as stubborn as you are impatient. A bad mix, my child. Fine. I will tell you. But I will tell you only because you asked me.

“According to the Gimble, in approximately four minutes the Mome Raths will arrive with the Sword-Bearer, the Aztlav prince and the librarian, whom they will have captured. Many secrets will be revealed, about the Mome Raths, the Tulgey Wood, the Jabberwock and about yourselves. They will take the vorpal sword from you. They will take you, Lilly, and steal your Gyre--”

Lilly choked. The togom continued in grave tones.

“Yes, Lilly, they will take your Gyre from you. All of you will lose heart. Then the Mome Raths will use their cursed book of ancient knowledge, the Manxor Slithe, to awake the Jabberwock and enslave it. Thus those meddling humans play their part. Then you must take back the vorpal sword and wound the beast.”

Limbs trembling, her fur damp with sweat, Lilly waited for the togom to continue, but the creature said nothing. “And... a-and then what, togom? How do we finally slay it? You sound so sure of everything. Tell me, don't just stand there! If the Mome Raths awake and enslave the Jabberwock, how are we to slay it?”

“Slay it? Ha!” barked the togom. Her smile was a hopeless one: the grimace of one who tries to maintain hope after a loved one has died. “Ashes thought you would slay it! Oh, naïve, innocent whelps, all of you. No, Guide, you are not going to kill the Jabberwock. You are only going to stun it, subdue it, stall it; put it to sleep for another thousand years. Then more brave souls, ages from now, will need to repeat the same process. And so it must be, forever and ever, as long as the Wabe shall stand. For how can you slay the unslayable?”

Lilly shook her head in disbelief and took a step backward; she stumbled on a stone and fell, grasping at a large root, but it crumbled unnaturally in her hands and she landed flat on her back, which knocked the wind from her lungs. She gasped for breath as the world swam around her and the togom's words rang mercilessly in her mind like devilish laughter. Not slay it? We didn't come here to slay it? What if we fail? Oh, they are going to take my Gyre from me... no, please, take a limb, cut off my ears, but don't take my Gyre from me...

“They're coming, Lilly of Noosta,” called out the togom with ominous calm. “They will capture you if they find you out here.”

She struggled to raise herself, but her legs wouldn't budge. She felt betrayed. Betrayed by Ashes, and by the Wabe, and by the whole world. “We are nothing but fodder,” she said to herself. Her ears twitched as she heard a sound coming from the surrounding forest. There was a shout of anger, some words spoken in Humish, and suddenly a host of black-clad figures appeared from between the glowing Gimble-trees. A tall, statuesque man wearing fine clothes and with slick, black hair emerged from among them and surveyed the grove. His eyes were small and murderous, his stance was arrogant and proud, and his jaw was turned up so that he could look at everything from a condescending angle. Lilly hated him at first sight.

Quickly and silently, she slipped into the darkness of the hollow and hid from the Mome Raths.