Mary Lennox is clutching a book, today, as she enters the bar; she makes her way over to the counter, climbs up onto a seat, and sits down to flip through it, a faint scowl of a frown on her face
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And he peers at it, with a very professorial air...which quickly changes to an expression that Mary might well have seen on Will not so long ago. An ageless and yet ancient watchfulness, still as the surface of a calm deep lake.
'Ah, yes,' he says softly, reflectively. 'A very good suggestion indeed.'
"I want to plant one," Mary explains, earnestly. "By the door of the greenhouse - I know it will not do everything, but it will help, at least, won't it?"
'It may,' he says at last. 'It may help. It can do no harm, at the very least. I would suggest rowan myself, for it is a tree that the Dark does not greatly care for.'
He gives Mary a small smile then. 'And the brightly-coloured berries are very pleasing to the eye. It should be lovely to look at, as well as serving a purpose.'
'Sorbus aucuparia,' Merriman intones, the tree's Latin name coming easily to his tongue. 'It may not look strong, but it is. It can withstand the worst winters, even up in places like the north of Norway where it is dark for the better part of the year.'
A slight pause, before he adds:
'It was also used in the old days to guard against lightning and protect sailing vessels against storms. It was said to be useful against witches and malevolent magic...and the druids used rowan wood for their staves and walking sticks, for greater protection during journeys in the night.'
"I do not think anyone is likely to be sailing in the greenhouse," she says, after a moment; then, a little hesitantly: "But I remember there was a storm - that night, there was a storm."
Merriman remembers it well. Particularly a bone-freezing cold that took the better part of a day and a half to fade into only the memory of the pain.
'That was the Dark's power -- or part of it was. It is strongest in the winter, when the days are cold and the nights are long, and so a winter storm is not the least of what it can conjure.'
He taps the book lightly. 'If you were to ask the old women and men back in your world, the people of your time who know the legends and the stories, they may have one or two things to say as well about what type of trees have special power there. If it is a passageway to your world, it should be protected by a tree that is special to those in your world as well.'
"I will ask Dickon and Martha - they will know, if anyone does."
She pauses.
"I had never seen a winter, before I came here - not a real one," she admits, and then looks up at him. "I suppose I did not know all the dangers of them.
'The winter has its dangers. But summer turns to autumn back in your world, you will see how the flowers and trees that return every year protect themselves against the cold and the snow. And men and women have protected themselves as well, over the long years, by watching the trees and the flowers to learn if the winter will be a bad one or if it will last longer than usual.'
'Good evening, Miss Lennox,' he says quietly, with a grave but polite nod.
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"You are Mr. Lyon.
You helped to take the spell off of me, I think."
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He might be watching her a trifle warily as well.
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You are one of the same kind of person as Will Stanton - one of the ones who work for the Light. Aren't you?"
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'I am,' he says simply. 'Will and I both serve the Light -- I am the oldest of our kind, and Will is the youngest. Have you spoken with him lately?'
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He certainly looks like he could be the oldest, she decides.
"I talked with him the last time I was here," she says. "He told me some things."
She holds her book up, a little. "That is why I am looking at this."
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'Ah, yes,' he says softly, reflectively. 'A very good suggestion indeed.'
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'It may,' he says at last. 'It may help. It can do no harm, at the very least. I would suggest rowan myself, for it is a tree that the Dark does not greatly care for.'
He gives Mary a small smile then. 'And the brightly-coloured berries are very pleasing to the eye. It should be lovely to look at, as well as serving a purpose.'
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"This is the rowan, my book says," she tells him, and then, after looking at the page, "It is very pretty - but it does not look very strong."
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A slight pause, before he adds:
'It was also used in the old days to guard against lightning and protect sailing vessels against storms. It was said to be useful against witches and malevolent magic...and the druids used rowan wood for their staves and walking sticks, for greater protection during journeys in the night.'
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"I do not think anyone is likely to be sailing in the greenhouse," she says, after a moment; then, a little hesitantly: "But I remember there was a storm - that night, there was a storm."
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'That was the Dark's power -- or part of it was. It is strongest in the winter, when the days are cold and the nights are long, and so a winter storm is not the least of what it can conjure.'
He taps the book lightly. 'If you were to ask the old women and men back in your world, the people of your time who know the legends and the stories, they may have one or two things to say as well about what type of trees have special power there. If it is a passageway to your world, it should be protected by a tree that is special to those in your world as well.'
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"I will ask Dickon and Martha - they will know, if anyone does."
She pauses.
"I had never seen a winter, before I came here - not a real one," she admits, and then looks up at him. "I suppose I did not know all the dangers of them.
It is still summer, at home."
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'The winter has its dangers. But summer turns to autumn back in your world, you will see how the flowers and trees that return every year protect themselves against the cold and the snow. And men and women have protected themselves as well, over the long years, by watching the trees and the flowers to learn if the winter will be a bad one or if it will last longer than usual.'
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"I always watch the trees and flowers."
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