Excerpts, Serials, and Out-of-Print

I have traveled the length and breadth of the Six Kingdoms on business for Seidhlóch the Moneylender, even to the Desert of Cuppar-Numbo and the gates of the city of Ogrothan on the shore of the Cerenarian Sea. I have faced many dangers, but none that were a serious threat until the day I learned of the Upas Tree.

I was resting in marbled Oonai of the gilded domes, partaking of its pleasures and entertainments, when I heard tell of a valley deep in the Karthian Hills, a poisoned hollow devoid of all growth and life, save for the Upas. My informant, a handsome, young dancer with whom I had spent the night, told me of it as we breakfasted in a tavern.

"I have heard tell of the Upas Tree all my life," he explained. "I once asked my mother . . ." he began, then paused. A strange look flickered across his face, as if hate, sorrow, and longing warred for dominance; I noted it, but thought little of it. Then his expression returned to normal as he smiled and continued.

"I asked my mother one time how deadly it was, and what I should do if I ever saw it. She replied that it was so deadly, a bird would fall from the sky if just its shadow touched the bark as it flew overhead. And if I did happen to see it, that I could be afraid but should not show it, for I would already be dead, even though I might not know it."

I scoffed at such a notion, but my companion insisted it was true. "Only just a year ago, an adventurer questioned the truth of these stories and went to see for himself. When he did not return after three days, a party went in search of him. They found him at the crest of the ridge within sight of the valley, dead, his face distorted into a hideous mask of agony."

I asked him why the party was not killed. "Because, they did not approach the ridge until after nightfall, when the tree could not be seen. Even then, one member, who thought he saw a vague outline, took to his bed upon his return and lay stricken for a fortnight before he recovered."

I have faced down basilisks with no harm, so I felt such could never be my fate, and I told him so. He gave me a calculating look, then inquired in a crafty manner, "Would you care to place a wager on your boast?"

That intrigued me, so we agreed as to terms and set off later that day. We arrived at the easternmost ridge of the bowl-shaped valley an hour before sundown, while there was still light enough for me to see the Upas clearly, but not for long enough to threaten my guide. We made camp and had a bite to eat as my companion told me more stories. I was especially interested in the tale of its origin, that it had appeared after a night when many shooting stars flung themselves across the heavens, and more than a few struck the earth. The valley beside which we were encamped was suppose to have been excavated by one such star. Such were not unheard of in my land of Erin, and I knew, as few did, that such 'stars' were actually pieces of stone or metallic rocks that fell from the sky. I told my lover of this, but he scoffed at such a notion.

We started up the slope of the ridge just as the sun began to touch the horizon. My companion stopped short of where he would be able to see over the crest into the hollow while I continued on. I was momentarily blinded by the sun as my head rose above the crest, but once I had topped it and shielded my eyes from the glare, I could see into the hollow quite clearly.

The valley was indeed a bowl-shaped crater, and almost totally devoid of life. The grass, herbs, and small field plants of the land that surrounded it ended in an abrupt line right at the edge of the crest; from there the ground that proceeded down into the hollow was an unbroken expanse of shattered rock and barren earth. The only living inhabitant sat at the exact center. In form it resembled an ancient willow, with thick, gnarled limbs and roots, its armor-like bark wrinkled and scarred, and a crown of delicate, slender branches that arced high over its top, then fell like a curtain to the ground. The only noticeable difference was that the bark was a dark charcoal color, while the branches were a bluish silver that appeared to glow in the waning daylight.

Observing it, I felt no pain or weakness, in fact no discomfort of any kind. If anything, I felt relaxed, as if I was luxuriating in a warm, fragrant bath. I began to doubt the truth of the stories, but then I happened to look down and saw a beetle approach the terminator of vegetation. It crossed that line as I watched, and in almost the same instant began flailing its legs and convulsing, as if stricken by an epileptic malady. In a matter of moments it lay still.

Yet curiosity overcame my caution and I descended into the hollow, heedless to the pleas of my companion. The feeling of relaxation intensified as I approached the Upas, until it became euphoric. It was like being intoxicated, as my inhibitions eroded and my better judgment fled. By the time I had reached the curtain of branches, I felt as if I was floating. I stood beside it for some moments, admiring its beauty, when for some inexplicable reason I collapsed.

I lay on the ground drained and exhausted, trying to catch my breath. I could barely breath, and I felt too weak to stand. That was when I realized what was happening. The Upas was draining the life-energy from me, and only my ability to draw power from the earth had protected me thus far. But there is a limit to even what I can endure, and I was dangerously close to that then. My proximity to the Upas had increased the strength of its effect beyond my ability to compensate, and my life was being siphoned off faster than I could replenish it. If I could not get away from it, I would be doomed.

With strength born of desperation, I forced myself to roll over onto my stomach and begin crawling back towards the wall of the hollow. Yet, it is interesting how my imagination worked when I faced death that day. While obsessed with getting as far away from the Upas as I could, I nonetheless began contemplating its nature, how it could do what it was doing to me. And perhaps because my mind was uncluttered by competing thoughts associated with everyday mundane activities, the answer came to me as easily as for the simplest question. It was in fact so obvious that I laughed at the absurdity of it. How could it be otherwise? The Upas had to have come from one of the Outer Spheres. It was probably borne as a seed on the meteorite that had excavated the crater.

I had by then crawled a scant ten feet, but already I had weakened to the point where I could go no further. Still, I was determined to grope on, even if I could only gain a mere few inches before my strength failed me. I refused to give up, even though the effort was futile. It was then that I saw my lover strolling towards me. The state of my enervation was such that at first I did not find that sight remarkable, and I vainly hoped that he was coming to rescue me. Then sick realization broke through the haze of my stupor and I knew what his true intention was.

When he had come within two feet, he stopped and regarded me for a moment. I had not the strength to even raise my head, so all I could see of him were his feet. They were surrounded by a thick fog, and as I watched the cloud expanded somewhat as the partially obscured form within it transformed into a new shape, one shorter, squatter, and more massive than any human being could possibly be. I knew immediately what he was.

The Fomórach spoke in a harsh voice that sounded like it came from the bottom of a deep tomb. "I have waited a long time for this reunion, Mother."

Eochaid Bres, the son I bore for the sorcerer Elatha, and after him my most hated enemy here in the Tíortha na Brionglóide. He had made himself a tyrant in my homeland of Erin, and I had deposed and killed him for betraying me and my people. Almost certainly he had wanted revenge ever since I first arrived in these lands, but only now had the opportunity presented itself. And a more perfect stratagem could not have been arranged. He not only expertly manipulated my desires and weaknesses, but he had maneuvered me into a situation that posed no risk to himself. As close to death as I was, nonetheless I admired the perfection of his plan, and felt the pride of any mother whose son exceeds her expectations. Even the fact that I had slept with him did not dampen my satisfaction.

"You always were a prideful fool, Mother," he continued to gloat, putting as much hate into that last word as he could manage, "but now your folly has brought about your ruination. You face not just mere death, but extinction; the Upas will consume not just your life, but your soul as well. You will cease to exist, not only here in the Dreamlands, not only in the Waking World, but throughout the whole of the Cosmos."

Had I the strength, I would have told him that he was not telling me anything new. The Upas shared this power with every being from the Outer Spheres; I have known this for centuries.

What I had forgotten, however, was that the Fomóraigh could read minds, and I was at present too weak to shield my thoughts, even from a half-breed such as himself. "Ah, but what you do not know, Mother, is why I lured you here. Are you not the least bit curious as to how I can enter its presence unscathed? It is because I made a bargain with it. When I first heard of it, I sought it out, hoping to discover if it was powerful enough to overcome even your strength. Indeed it was, and in learning this it nearly claimed me as well. But I also found out that, like a normal tree absorbing sunlight, the Upas uses the energy not just to live, but also to spawn, and it needed my energy to create its seeds. My life alone would not have been enough, but I knew yours would, so I persuaded it to spare me in exchange for you. It even taught me how to cloak myself in a shadow deep enough to shield me from its power. Now, after it has drained every last dram of your soul, it will release a cloud of spores onto the wind. They will disburse themselves throughout the Lands of Dreams; each will form a new Upas, which will consume all life within its reach and spread still more seeds. In only a few years, the Dreamworld will be scoured of human life, cleansing the Waking World, and then my people will be able to reclaim their rightful rule over the Earth."

Obviously, Bres was as mad here as he had been in Erin centuries ago, yet it was also obvious that his plan would succeed unless I could somehow stop him. I knew a way, slim as it might be; it all depended upon how much energy the Upas still needed to germinate. I knew a word of power, a command, that would destroy his shadow shield and render him vulnerable, if I could catch him off guard. Such was likely, though, for overconfidence had always been his greatest weakness, and as he spoke he had strolled past me closer to the Upas. My chance was now, and I resolved to take it, even if I would not survive it.

Summoning my last reserve of strength, I managed to roll onto my back, so that I could see him. I was nearly finished, but even as I felt the dregs of my life slip away, I spoke the word. It was barely a whisper, but it was enough. In an instant, Bres was surrounded by what looked like a swarm of fireflies. There is no defense against this geis, but before he could even react the 'flies' attacked the cloud that surrounded him. They bore through it, like sparks burning through cloth, and when they disappeared the cloud dissipated, being now too unstable to remain intact. For a moment he stared at me, too stunned to move or speak, then terror filled his eyes and distorted his features as he realized the full measure of his fate. He tried to run, but took only three steps before he collapsed, writhingand screaming in agony.

As I hoped, the Upas concentrated most of its attention on him, and I felt some strength return to me as my starved body drank power from the earth. Struggling to my feet, I staggered off towards the crater's wall, slowly at first, but faster with every yard I gained, as more of my strength came back. By the time I reached the crest I was running flat out, nor did I stop until I had crossed it, and then I threw myself down the other side. I landed on my stomach and slid a short distance before coming to a halt.

Now beyond the power of the Upas, I regained my full strength almost immediately. Yet I could not leave. Despite the danger, I walked back up to the crest. In the last waning glow of twilight, I saw what looked like a haze of smoke surrounding the Upas. As I watched, it began to form a column and rise into the sky. I had only seconds to act, so I did the only thing I could think to do: I sang the Song of Opening. Doing so is exceedingly dangerous, for it creates a gate through which anything may pass, but I concentrated upon the abyss surrounding the Outer Spheres, and when the hole opened in the sky, the air above the Upas rushed in, carrying the cloud of spores with it. I held the gate open until it appeared that all the seeds had been sucked away, then I reversed the song and the hole closed.

+ + + + +

Medb paused to take a long drink of wine, and the three adventurers waited for her to continue, but when instead she began eating a piece of fruit, they looked at each other in confusion. Finally one asked, "Is that all?"

"There is nothing more to tell," she confirmed. "I returned to Oonai, bathed, ate, passed what was left of the night with an acrobat troop, then returned to Ulthar."

"What of Bres?" asked the youngest and most handsome.

Medb shrugged. "I do not know. The Upas may have killed him, but he is resourceful; he might have escaped."

"And the Upas?" asked the next oldest and the strongest.

"It is still there; no power in this Sphere can destroy it, or hinder it for long. But it will be some time before it can consume enough life-energy to spawn again."

"Can you be sure that no seeds were carried away before you opened the gate?" asked the oldest and wisest.

Medb gave him a searching stare before saying, "No, I cannot."

"Then, what can we do?" asked the middling oldest.

"About the Upas? Nothing. But, perhaps the four of us can find some way to amuse ourselves for the remainder of the day. Assuming you have no more urgent errands to attend to?"

"Are you seriously suggesting we ignore this danger and just have sex?" asked the youngest, clearly agitated.

Medb shrugged. "Since we can do nothing about the former, do you have any objections to doing the latter?"

To her delight they did not, and so they retired to her rooms at The Laughing Cat.