Shadow Tree Read Online Free PDF Page B

being a hundred and ten – I’ve done that too – and believe me it’s not fun.”
    Marta.
    It was Marta talking. Alfonso was certain of it; and she was talking about being an ageling. Suddenly everything was starting to make sense. This is precisely what Alfonso had become – an ageling. The last memory he could recall was of being in Jasber, running through the burning remains of the monastery, with a bag of green ash tucked under his arm. Then he had tripped, fallen, and gotten a great deal of that ash into his eyes. This must have transformed into an ageling and now, apparently, he was a newborn baby. This was, to say the very least, a serious downer. He’d have
to re-learn how to walk, talk, and use the bathroom.
    Alfonso tried to talk, but instead he merely burped.
    â€œTake it easy,” said Marta. “First thing’s first, you need sunlight - the Abbot says that’s the only thing that will make you feel better.” Very tenderly, Marta set baby Alfonso down on a blanket that she had laid across the ground. Alfonso squirmed for a moment and then he closed his eyes and relaxed.
    As baby Alfonso rested on the blanket, Marta looked around with some small measure of satisfaction and admired what she had been able to do. She had made it to the foothills of the Urals – largely on her own. The Abbot had escorted Marta and Alfonso for part of the way. He and several of his monks led them out of Jasber, through the maze of razor hedges, and across the Sea of Clouds in a boat. Before they could all set out for the foothills of the Urals, however, the Abbot fell ill with a high fever and the other monks all agreed that he needed to be taken back to Jasber at once. Marta insisted on continuing onward by herself. Alfonso had taken on the form of a baby and Marta declared that she would simply carry him herself.
    â€œYou both may die,” warned the Abbot weakly. He was covered with sweat and shaking. “You mustn’t do this!” he warned. Marta didn’t waver. She explained that Alfonso had saved her entire family and, at the very least, she owed it to him to try and get him better. “So be it,” said the Abbot with a sigh of frustration, “You always were a stubborn child.” He then removed a gold chain from his neck. It had a small, circular Pendant on it, embedded with several emeralds. He handed the chain and Pendant to Marta. “When you are ready to come home,” said the monk, “Build a fire and place the Pendant in the coals. Within a few days time, we will find you.”
    Before parting ways, one of the monks grabbed her firmly by the shoulder. He was a big man and very muscular. His name was Michael Papa and, before serving as a monk, he had been one of the “sweepers” who patrolled the labyrinth that surrounded the entrance to Jasber. In fact, he had been one of the so-called “Rogue Sweepers” – one of the very few who were, occasionally, allowed to leave the labyrinth and roam the landscape beyond. It was Michael who had navigated their boat across the Sea of Clouds. “Listen to me and remember this,” Michael said as he pulled Marta close. “Avoid anyone you see – especially the children.”
    â€œThe children?”
    â€œYes,” said Michael. “The slave traders have captured so many of the adults in this region that hoards of children roam the hills – and they are wild and as fierce as wolves. They may call for help, but ignore them, or they’ll quickly tear you to pieces.”
    Marta blanched, but said nothing.
    â€œGood luck,” said Michael.
    After parting with the Abbot and the monks, Marta had walked for several days through a pouring rain. Both she and Alfonso got drenched to the bone. Alfonso’s health appeared to worsen by the hour. He grew pale and sickly looking. His soft, wet skin glimmered like the moon as Marta held him close to her chest. He