Intro to Ahsah

Our next Marigold excerpt is gonna be a two-parter. Primarily because I don’t feel right making you read an entire chapter. But also because said chapter—where Mari is transported to the mystical realm of Ahsah—is too important to gloss over.

Thus, we’ll be camping out here for a few weeks; maybe two, maybe more. However long it takes to go from earth to Ahsah…

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Mari grunted as she lugged the yoga mat and easel up the hill. Her arms were so full, she couldn’t see the overgrown dirt path and she kept stumbling. Stupid tree roots.

Nature was not her thing. She liked to look at it, but from a distance. Miss Lili had this idea though, and when Miss Lili put her mind to something, there was no way of talking her out of it.

So, on they went up the hill that Mari swore was so steep it was almost vertical. Who knew an easel weighed so much?

A gnat was buzzing around her face—probably attracted to her oh-so-flattering sweaty sheen—but she had no free hand to swat it away. She tried to blow it away, even tried to launch it away by jerking her head. She felt like a cow when she did that, flicking its tail in a vain attempt to dissuade its persistent pest. But going by her latest hair color, Mari mused, she would have to be a hot-pink cow and bugs would probably stay away from such an unknown creature. Then again, maybe they’d think she was a giant cow-shaped flower. Maybe that’s what this bug thought now, minus the cow part. It was trying to figure out why her hair didn’t have any nectar or pollen or whatever. Did gnats even like that stuff?

Sick of herself, Mari tried to put an end to her constant inner-rambling—it was exhausting—by steeling her gaze on her destination: the towering oak tree at the crest of the hill.

Miss Lili was a few steps ahead of her, widening the distance with her exuberant speed. She climbed like her life depended on it, making Mari seem like the 70-year-old one. In her tan cowboy hat, matching green button-down and shorts, and glittery rain boots, Lili looked ready to take on whatever challenges this hike would reveal. Hot-pink cattle wrangling? Got it. Exotic snake bite? She had antivenom in the pouch on her belt. A flood of Biblical proportions? Rain boots. She was ready.

Mari, on the other hand, was ready to go back inside. The gnat wouldn’t leave her alone and she was this close to screaming like Tarzan in an attempt to scare it away. She got illogical when she was frustrated. And this whole day was frustrating.

She loved Miss Lili, you know she did, but today the woman was pushing her to her wit’s end. It started with a wake-up call at the crack of dawn; she played a video of a rooster crowing on her phone. To get them in the hiking spirit, Lili said.

Until that lovely start to the day, Mari hadn’t even known about Lili’s big plans (and like I said, there’s no talking Miss Lili out of an idea).

And what was this brilliant idea?

Yoga. And watercolors. On top of a mountain. Okay... not a mountain, but a very steep, never-ending hill.

Watercolors were fine, Mari thought, but everything else? Yuck. 

She’d never tried yoga before, but as she adjusted the strap of the mat that was digging into her shoulder, she was already starting to hate it.

If she wasn’t completely disoriented in this maze of trees, she would’ve

marched back down to the camper and got a cold glass of lemonade.

Great, Mari thought with a sigh, now I want lemonade.

They were getting closer to the top and it seemed like Miss Lili was getting faster with each step, like she was one side of a magnet being pulled to its other half. Mari followed limply, the easel’s legs dragging in the dirt.

She hated this muggy May heat and the gnat that wouldn’t stop buzzing. At the moment, she felt like shoving Miss Lili down the hill. Mari imagined her rolling down and down and down, her cowboy hat and lasso (don’t ask why she brought that on a woodland hike) flailing right alongside her…

She snapped out of it when Lili’s beaming face looked back at her.

What…

Mari had no idea where that’d come from. She loved Miss Lili; why’d she even think about hurting her? She shivered as a chill ran down her spine; her ears started hissing inside her head.

“Come on, girl!” Lili waved from the top. She was standing proudly under the oak tree, hands on her hips in a power pose.

Mari clambered up, desperate to shake off the thoughts. Her fear put a new pep to her step. She was joining Miss Lili before she knew it, being wrapped in a firm bear hug.

Now that the hike was over—and she was determined to ignore that nagging pushing-Lili-panic in the back of her head—Mari took in the scene before her:

They were in the middle of a circular clearing, the woods surrounding them on all sides. Mari wondered if it was manmade, as it was almost a perfect circle. The only thing that disrupted the smooth arches was the oak tree, the one that stood like a lighthouse—a faint glow distinguishing it from the other layers of foliage.

The tree was gigantic. It made the other ones look dwarfish by comparison. It was inside the perimeter of the clearing, like it couldn’t stand being aligned with the other trees.

Sunlight shone through the oak’s leaves, alighting them in brilliant green hues. They swayed in the breeze, their rustling sound echoed by the songs of the birds hidden amongst them.

The wind caught one leaf and it floated down to her. Mari startled.

For a second, she thought the leaf swirled up and when it did, a faint rainbow shimmered along its surface, before a distinct twirl sent it spiraling back towards the ground, green once again, like a graceful ballerina.  She must’ve just imagined it.

The falling leaf led her gaze downward, to the base of the towering oak. Its gnarled roots cascaded over the dirt floor, the tree’s age evident by their expanse. Mari always marveled at exposed tree roots. So complex and majestic, threatened by the elements, yet unwavering. She was kind of jealous of those trees.

The miserable hike was forgotten, as she gazed in awe at the mighty oak. She couldn’t explain it, but Mari had to get closer. She felt like it was pulling her in.

Dropping her supplies on the floor, Mari inched her way forward, like a deer approaching a stream. Somewhere inside of her, she knew being out in the open, marching toward this tree, was an invitation for predators. But her thirst overrode her fear. Something strange was going on, but she didn’t care; she’d never felt such peace. Mari felt warm, like her fear was melting away.

She took another step, bigger this time, confident.

A pull on her arm. Miss Lili.

“That’s enough for today,” she said with a knowing smile. “Come on, how about we make some lemonade?”

It took a minute for Mari to process.

“W-what?” she stuttered breathlessly. She felt like she was floating, gradually sinking back to earth. “But what about yoga? And painting?”

Lili had a gleam in her eyes, like she knew something that Mari didn’t. “I thought you’d need them, but turns out you don’t,” she paused, placing a hand on Mari’s cheek. “I’m proud of you, Sweet Pea.”

Still dazed, Mari allowed Lili to fill her arms once again. Vaguely, she realized that her mentor hadn’t brought any painting or yoga supplies of her own—like she was never planning on going through with it.

They set off back down the hill. This time, the journey went way too fast.

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Until next time, my fantasy-loving readers. May your weeks be as majestic and marvelous as this otherworldly tree.