After months of hard labor in the ruined forests, the Theron survivors began to suffer from prolonged exhaustion. Yarrod, speaking for the green priests, finally issued a compassionate plea from the worldforest. “Rest! The trees say this effort will take a great deal of time. If you all falter now, who will care for the trees? You must not hurt yourselves.”
Standing beside him, Mother Alexa added, “Already eleven of our people have died in accidents among the fallen trees because they were too tired and became careless.”
The weary Therons who had gathered in the temple ring of blackened stumps dragged themselves off to rest. Green priests draped their arms around the scaled trunk of any nearby worldtree and fell deeply asleep, dreaming through telink.
Solimar’s shoulders sagged. Soot smudged his green skin. “I am too troubled to sleep, Celli. If I did, I’m afraid I’d drown in the nightmares.”
Celli smiled at him, making an effort to keep her spirits up. “Then come with me. Remember that healthy grove of smaller worldtrees we found yesterday? Why not show me your treedancer moves, and I’ll demonstrate a few of mine? I think you’ve forgotten how to relax.”
He sighed. “Treedancing . . . it’s been so long. I don’t know where I’ll find the energy—but how can we dance among the trees now, in the midst of all this?” Despair and pain hung like fog in the air.
“I bet the trees will draw as much good cheer from it as we will.” Taking his hand, she led him to his gliderbike, and they flew off, heading in a straight line off into the distance, where they had found a partially intact grove.
Solimar had a spring in his step as they approached the patch of living trees. “I’ve lost track of what it feels like to be around the true life of the forest because I’ve been so focused on all this destruction. Here at least there’s something to celebrate.” He turned to her with a smile, stroking the golden bark of a nearby worldtree. “And, it’s hard to believe, but I do feel ready for dancing.”
Though his body was large and muscular, Solimar moved like a gazelle. Springing forward, he caught a nearby thin trunk, spun himself around, then lifted his feet as if to take flight. Bounding to another tree, he began to scale it. Celli ran after him, eager to show Solimar that even though he was the green priest, she had just as much ability when it came to the sport.
Treedancing had developed as a combination athletic competition and dance, but had evolved into a form of communion with the worldforest. The original green priests came from a variety of Theron colonists. Some of them were scholars content to sit and read to the trees all day long, but athletically inclined acolytes wanted to express themselves physically, through fluid motion. To the great tree mind, the lissome dances were just as fascinating as human legends and scientific achievements.
Celli scrambled up a trunk, swung from one branch to a second, then flipped up and over it before springing off again, somersaulting in the air to land gracefully between two trees on the ground. With each movement, she felt energy and joy surge through her to counter the oppressive pall of soot and gloom.
Solimar spun on his toes as he touched down on a springy branch, then launched himself even higher. Celli bounded up a tree beside him, grabbed a branch, and swung toward him. Feeling daring and trusting her green priest friend, she called, “Catch me, Solimar!” She released her grip on the boughs and soared across a void.
The muscular young man did not flinch, but caught her easily, as if they had practiced the routine a hundred times. “That was either brave or stupid, Celli,” he said as he used her momentum to swing her up onto a branch beside him.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me fall.” She hugged him close as they stood together, carefully balanced and catching their breath.
Some treedance moves were free-form, acrobatics and ballet combined with vigorous gymnastics. The result was a jazz of movement, an impromptu physical symphony. Connected by telink, the trees themselves could live vicariously through the green priest dancers; the motion liberated them from the deep roots that anchored them to the planet.
Solimar laughed with sheer ecstasy as he bounced from branch to branch. Celli saw with astonishment that he kept his eyes closed and let the trees guide him through telink. She thought it must have been a long time since the forest felt such exuberance. The other exhausted green priests, most of whom were resting now, probably felt the same rush as they dreamed in telink with the worldforest.
Unable to share in his symbiotic connection, Celli let herself be content with watching her friend’s happiness. An independent girl, she herself had never felt the call to become an acolyte, though her brother Beneto and uncle Yarrod were both green priests. That would not stop her from finding solace through her own joyous movements even among the blackened and broken worldforest.
As they danced together, she felt they were both drawing energy from the wounded trees . . . and giving it back as well. In her mind, she sensed the trees sharing a secret warm smile with the exuberant dancers. The forest was waking up and remembering—thanks to them.
Finally, when they’d exhausted their bodies, she and Solimar sat together on a wide branch, panting and sweating. Celli laughed and leaned against him in a comfortable, intimate moment. “Weren’t we supposed to be relaxing?”
Solimar’s eyes and expression held a potent vitality that she hadn’t seen since the day he’d rescued her from the burning fungus reef. “It may surprise you, Celli, but I feel more rested now than I have in a long, long time.” His fingers touched the hard bark, and he drifted into telink. He was smiling when he came back out. “And the trees would like very much for us to do this again.”