Heartwood

Milo, Tulgey, and Grognak approached the kennels under the light of a sickle moon. Grog opened his mouth to speak 'soft-like'. "Why, didja reckon, we need a scrap of yonder 'hounds fur?"

Milo winced, but Tulgy spoke up softly. "Magic. Seeking magic, like what's in a compass, except we're not trying to find north."

"I's heard that you needin a bit of the dog which bit yah, after you drank from the jug o' moonshine. Liken this ta that?"

Tulgy breathed in and was about to launch a long explanation into how a beasts nature was tucked away in so much as a whisker, but Milo touched his shoulder and cut in. "Precisely, like that." He gestured at the kennel ahead, "Want to keep a watch out while we do our thing?"

Grognak nodded and Milo and Tulgey crept across the street. As they approached, one of the dogs lifted its head and eyed the approaching strangers. A low growl left his throat and Milo and Tulgey halted. Milo reached into his pocket and pulled out the ribs of the rabbit he had caught earlier. The dog, a doberman, suddenly looked very keen, its ears standing at full height. Milo yanked a rib free and tossed it over the fence, and with that, the doberman was distracted. The two moved forward and came to the fence. The other dogs had heard the movements and smelt the food; now they came forward, eager. Tulgey pointed at a red dog, "That one."

Milo blew across the ribs in the direction of the bloodhound. For a moment it hesitated, then it moved forward in earnest. Milo slowly brought the bones and meat along the fence and the dog moved parallel with Tulgey. In a flash, Tulgey's hand pinched into the dogs flank and pulled. The cur yelped, and Tulgey lifted his closed fist in triumph. "Got some!"

There was a noise from the shutters on the house that bordered the kennel and Milo suddenly realised that the kennel master was not far at all. He hurled the remaining rabbit over the fence and hissed "Run!" As they crossed the street he heard the window slam open and heard the call of an angry man as well as the baying of hungry hounds.

"Damn kids, stay away from my dogs. If I catch yeh I'll skin yeh and feed yeh to them!"

Later, out of breath from running and from laughing, the three of the sat on the outskirts of Rhest. Milo nodded to Tulgey, "Got enough?"

Tulgey looked at the fist full of bristles he had and nodded. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Yew." A faint green glow eminated from his hand and seemed to pull it in a northwestern direction. Opening his eyes he looked to Milo and said softly, "This way."

They walked throughout the night, under starfallen light. The moon had set and now the only light they saw was from the white snow, silhouetting dark trees. They were trudging up a slight grade, Milo noted. As the hours wore on, a faint glow began to appear in the east. Finally Tulgy halted. "Here. It's here."

Ahead a clearing lay. Snow covered stumps rose in lines. Milo approached one and realized that they were not stumps, but eroded grave markers. "We're in a graveyard, an old one at that." He felt uneasy, and glanced to his compatriots. Tulgey looked around in interest, while Grognak shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should..."

Tulgey gave a start, "Look!" He pointed across the graveyard at a wide tree. The sun was rising and the light cascaded down the trunk, and gleaming red berries shone out from the green needles of an ancient yew tree. As the light of the new sun touched the trees trunk, a dark hollow was made visible to them near the base of the tree. Slowly, weapons drawn, the three of them moved forward.

Peering into the hollow, Milo was surprised to see that it was small shrine of sorts, eight feet wide and seven feet at its tallest point. Recessed at the back was vine and moss encrusted statue on a wide altar. Softly, Milo walked in and surveyed the room. A bundle of sackcloth was wrapped around something on the altar. He stepped forward and reached to brush away the dried vines to see the face of the statue, but Grognak spoke up, "I wouldn' touch that there bust, iffen I was you. Could be all sorts of hexes laid upon 'er."

Milo paused, and pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Tulgey, can you sense anything?" Tulgey moved forward and peered at the statue, then shook his head. Milo reached forward and began to remove the vines and moss. When he was done, he took a step back so that the sun could fall on it's nakedness.

Whomever had sculpted her had done a breathtaking job. She stood there in carven robes that could have been rippling in unfelt wind, left hand open and gesturing to the earth below, right hand resting upon her heart. Milo's eyes slowly climbed from the hollow of her neck and beheld her face in the new sunshine. Her lips neither frowned nor smiled, her sharp chin was set firmly and her eyebrows were drawn together in the slightest of frowns. Her eyes were ancient and laden with tiny slivers of sapphire. Milo found his gaze locked in her own dark, marble gaze and seemed to hear the sounds of the forest around him clearer then him and his companions movements. He would have gazed forever, had Grognak not pulled back the burlap wrappings on the altar.

"Milo, this here's a perfect stave of bow-worthy bona-fide yew. And it's right cured!"

Milo tore his gaze from hers and looked down. The beam was wide and solid, no knots and blemishes to be seen. He touched it and could almost feel the bow inside of it.

Tulgey cleared his throat. "I don't know if it's alright for us to take this. I'm not sure who built this place or who it's for, but this looks like an offering to me."

Milo looked back at her, this nameless goddess of cold beauty whose eyes gazed into his soul. Then an idea came to him. He unslung his own bow and unstrung it. Looking up, he saw two grooves opposite each other and gently eased his bow into place. It fit perfectly. He turned to his two companions, who looked at him with curiosity. "Can I have a minute alone, if you don't mind?" They looked at each other, shrugged and stepped outside. Milo turned to the statue and the alter.

"I'm going to be clear with you, I have had little use with gods and goddesses. I've seen what pious men will do when they believe that their god wills it. I have experienced their divinely mandated retribution." He swallowed, his mouth felt dry. "I've come here, not out of faith, but out of necessity. I need this timber, so that I can..." He trailed off and looked down. Why then? So that I can kill easier, protect the weak,...Then the words came to him. "So that I can hunt, according to my nature, the creatures both foul and fair, and a great many things that haunt me."

She gazed back at him, and it occurred to Milo, that her expression of graceful troublement was apt. The world moved on around her, and she watched for something or perhaps, someone. He felt neither assent, nor dissent, and decided to take his leave.

Milo stepped out into the cold, yet light winter morning, the beam tucked under his arm. His companions took note of it and his lack of bow, but said nothing. Quietly they retraced their steps, breaking their tired silence only when Tulgey noticed something beside the path they had taken, just outside of Rhest. He gave a shout and pointed. Milo and Grognak lifted their heads and stared in tired silence.

It was a yew tree, not more then twenty paces from the snowline of the town of Rhest. Milo gazed at it for a good minute. It was perfect in everyway, save that it was overshadowed by a large fir tree. "We walked right past it, and your spell didn't stop guiding you." He said to Tulgey, his voice even and emotionless. Tulgey only nodded.

Grognak appraised it. "It's as perfect as that there beam you got, almost at least. Jus' not cured." Milo nodded and said nothing. He had a lot on his mind as they turned and returned to the town.