Chapter 8

Revive, Sacred Trees There were thirteen sacred trees and thirteen months in a fairy year. Alan explained that each tree represented a month in the fairy calendar. “You copied that down in your homework, too, remember?” Lotte asked me. I whistled, tuning her out. To start, we all trotted down the hill and stood in front of the first tree: a white birch. It was pretty impressive, with lots of long, slim branches curving upward from its thick, weighty trunk. Okay, but what did “reviving them” actually mean? Because they didn’t look dead to me. “They used to steep the leaves of all the sacred trees and drink it as a panacea in the past,” declared Feoras. “Is that the nasty stuff we drank?” Blech. Gross. In spite of myself, I stuck my tongue out. The mere memory of it was enough to make the inside of my mouth sting and prickle. “They say it was the source of the fairy king’s power. Sifla was lamenting that the sacred trees and their powers have weakened in the present.” “Meaning if we revive them, the fairy king’s power will return as well… Right?” Lotte fell to thinking. Sucy indifferently shrugged. “Either way, we need to do something about the trees first. Did the two of you receive any hints?” “Good question. Feoras, did you?” “Even if I had, I wouldn’t tell you people.” “Except you just told us about the cure-all.” “Th-that was charity! Because you seemed so terribly helpless!” Flushing bright red, he turned away in a huff. As he continued to pout, Sucy put a hand on the trunk of the tree and looked up into its branches. “Wouldn’t it be faster just to ask it directly?” “Directly? What do you mean?” I asked. “Have Lotte summon the spirit of this tree.” She pointed directly at her. “Wh-what?” Lotte stammered, suddenly at the center of our conversation. “I feel like an old tree should have a spirit living in it, just the way old tools do. Especially if it’s a sacred tree, right? I’d say that makes this a job for you, Lotte.” “Yeah! Sucy, you’re a genius!” “U-u-u-uh, but…” If you didn’t know, Lotte’s family runs a secondhand shop, where they have this mysterious song that’s been handed down for generations. It’s a special song to summon the spirits in old tools. “Go on, Lotte—try it. Think about how much it’ll help all of us!” I encouraged. “Uh, umm…” “Unless we do something about the sacred trees, we’ll never get back to where we came from.” “Uhhhhh…” “I’m asking you, too, Lotte. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you sing, and I’d like to hear it again,” Sucy prodded. “Um…” Yes! Lotte was finally starting to waver. Amanda reassured her with a nod. “Don’t worry. Even if you screw up, we won’t laugh or anything. Although we might if it was Akko.” “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!” “…All right. I’ll try it.” Lotte drew a big breath. La-la-la, lu-la-la, lu-li-la-la-la. She began to sing a gentle, tranquil melody, softly enveloping all of us. Li-lu-lu-lu, lu-la-la, la-la-la-la-la. I thought Lotte and her singing voice had a lot in common. They both somehow dissolved all my worries.