Elf Doubt

by Bryant Reil

  Hajar could see magic? Perhaps fortuitous she had come along, after all.

  Ymir swam over a door in the floor of a shop to obscure it. It bore a heavy iron lock, untouched by rust or corrosion. Marik assumed she had the stone he sought tucked away on the other side. She seemed nervous but smiled politely as Marik turned to peruse the shelves.

  ***

  Eunoe scanned her trainees: Kyla, Faron, and several bandits. It was fortunate she had brought her knitting supplies, but she hadn’t come prepared to teach a group of half-wits to build an animal. Aspen had experience, but Eunoe would not allow her to work until she had a few days’ rest.

  One of the bandits - a feline sort with sleek black fur named Loquai - bit his tongue as he tried to finish his first row of loops, but his short fingers weren’t suited for knitting.

  She walked over and adjusted each of his fingers on the needle. “No. Use your index finger - no, Loquai, that’s not your index finger – yes – now use that finger to pull the yarn from the ball. Better. Now take that yarn under the point, then over. Good. Now use your needle to pull it through. Watch your tension!”

  “Good start!” she lied. “That’s how you knit a polynucleotide. Now we need to learn to apply the amino acids in base pairs.”

  Guava, a stout dwarfish character with black hair and no bear, raised a hand. “What’s an amino acid?”

  She held up a box of guanine. “It’s a bead. There are four kinds, and they work together in pairs. You—I guess you don’t need to know how they work, but all plants and animals are designed using these four beads. I’ll show you how to place them as soon as I finish making the pattern for the cinqueno dog. For now, just finish your row so I can teach you to bind off.”

  Another of the bandits raised his hand. “I don’t understand. So, we’re making a dog out of yarn?”

  Eunoe couldn’t remember the fellow’s name. He was a human from a nearby jungle village. The others seemed to accept him as an equal, which impressed Eunoe, for though humans were animals they were far more intelligent than most species.

  “Yes,” she replied. “This is how animals are made.”

  “We’re making a stuffed animal? A toy?”

  “No. It’ll be a real dog. There are a couple other steps I’ll handle. I just need help with the knitting portion.”

  “I could go find a dog. Maybe just buy one.”

  Eunoe pondered this. It would be a challenge to find, but maybe easier than teaching these morons how to knit.

  Kyla interjected before Eunoe could send him off. “No, no. It’s a rare dog, and we don’t have days to waste looking for one. Only ten days to the next full moon, and these scarves are crazy long.”

  Eunoe shook her head. “Not scarves, Kyla. DNA.”

  “Call it what you like. It’s still a scarf.”

  There were times, like this one, that Eunoe supposed humans could even be considered the intellectual equal of elves. Of course, it was probably unfair to use Kyla as the standard for Elvish intelligence.

  ***

  Aspen leaned against the tree and caressed the bark. The tree was unfamiliar, and she didn’t even know its name, but despite the soreness and swelling she felt renewed. The trees’ demeanors had softened, though they were still timid. She didn’t understand what Ceiba had done to them, for trees couldn’t explain in such details. Trees were accustomed to orcs and elves and the like using them for wood, but the treachery of a guardian spirit had traumatized the poor things.

  Eunoe, acting the cloying matron, patted Aspen’s wounds with a damp cloth.

  “A bit of infection,” she clucked. “You need to keep these bandages clean. I can sense your hunger. Shall I catch you some fish?”

  Aspen shook her head. “That’s where I’m headed. I’d like to do it myself, if you don’t mind. Get away from those bandits for a bit. I’m going to sing a fishing spear from this tree. It is the kindest of the lot.”

  Eunoe gazed up at the canopy. “The trees have become more amicable?”

  “Yes, though still skittish. They are relieved at Ceiba’s demise. Handrin is a great hero to them.”

  “Us as well. You, especially.”

  Aspen shuddered. “Please be still as I sing. The trees frighten easily.”

  Aspen faced the tree and gave a low bow. She hoped they liked the same songs as the trees back home. She decided on Eliquoy d’Alimar, as breath and water were universal to all trees. It was a staccato melody with a quick tempo: an advanced piece which had taken months to master, but was fun to sing. It ended abruptly, so Aspen gave the bark of a tree a gentle caress to let it know she was done. She felt it grant permission to take what she needed, and so she gripped the bark and drew a long rod from the trunk. The end splayed into six pointed tips to make spearing fish easier. She bowed to the tree before turning toward the river.

  Eunoe followed. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

  Aspen thought a moment and nodded. She wanted to be alone but could feel Eunoe’s love and strength. “Yes. Please. Only, may we walk without speaking?”

  “Of course.”

  The river was further than Aspen had expected, and she felt relieved Eunoe had come along. Much more distance and the spiritual thread that bound them would break.

  She heard the gentle flow of water as they approached. It was slow moving, and quiet, but due to the denseness of the trees she couldn’t see the water until they were on the bank. There was a break in the canopy over the water, and Aspen spread her arms and let the sun beat down on her arms and face for several minutes. Eunoe waited patiently; she knew how important sunlight was to the dryad. She had been in the dark woods too long, and without nourishment.

  Soon hunger overtook Aspen’s love of the sun and her eyes descended to the murky water. She wasn’t sure what creatures might be lurking in there. “What can we expect?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Just stay close to the edge.”

  Aspen nodded and dipped her toes. The water was warmer than she expected. Her feet sank into the silt at the bottom, and she panicked and fell back. Eunoe caught her by the shoulder.

  “Take it easy. Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?”

  “Yes,” Aspen gasped. “The mud is softer and deeper than I expected. I’m fine.”

  She continued until the water was halfway to her knee, and relaxed as she felt the soothing embrace of the water flowing past her swollen ankles. Her eyes glanced about for signs of fish.

  There. A glint of silver near the surface. She struck and came up with a fish the size of her hand. She held it up for Eunoe to see. “Look at the teeth on this thing!”

  Eunoe nodded in approval.

  There was a nip at Aspen’s left shin.

  “Ow!” She looked in the water. A small fish darted at her right shin for a bite and swam away. She looked around her ankles to see more of the fish watching her legs and feet with disturbing interest. As two more darted in, she splashed for the bank and stretched out her hand. Eunoe took it and pulled her up.

  “Those fish are bitey.”

  Eunoe bent over and examined the small wounds on Aspen’s leg. “Not too bad. Mean little things.”

  Aspen nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t mind. After all, I plan on eating them. Can’t be too upset if they try to eat me.”

  Eunoe smiled and sat on the muddy bank, and Aspen returned to her quest for lunch. Though the fish were small, and not especially tasty, never had a meal felt so satisfying.

  ***

  The next few days were blissfully busy. Eunoe had designed dogs before but wanted this one to be something both simple and special. The extra toe was an easy add, as were the colors, but she became absorbed in many of the extraneous details like floppy ears and big eyes.

  Among other distractions, Aias kept trying to push to the front of her mind. She supposed he was trying to figure out what she was doing and made a comment or two that the dog drawing looked nothing like the body he wanted.

  “N
ot for you,” she told him. He was beginning to understand simple commands and phrases.

  Back to the dog. A curly tail, a spot over one eye. He was going to be adorable.

  Aspen, her bruises fading to yellow, entered the hut. She had been out all morning soothing the trees around the camp. She handed Eunoe a gourd of water. “I had the trees save some of the dew from their leaves. Take it. You need a break.”

  Eunoe nodded and took a sip. She looked out the door as she heard Faron whooping outside.

  “Break time over everybody! Back to work!”

  “Hey! You aren’t in charge of anything,” Kyla’s voice flew back. “He is right, though. Back to work.”

  “They’re ready.” Aspen squeezed Eunoe’s hand and pulled her up. Eunoe could feel Aspen suppressing pain, fear, and rage as she spoke. “Come on, teacher! Your class is waiting.”

  Eunoe stood with a sympathetic smile. She stepped out of the hut to see her students picking up their needles and yarn, full of more enthusiasm than skill.

  ***

  "This is the worst adventure ever!" Kyla moaned as she fumbled with yet another loop. She had opted to knit, thinking it would be more interesting than snapping the beads in place, but seven days of this made her service to Mokosh seem like a holiday. And she was getting worse daily, with her fingers getting all sore and bored.

  “I kind of like it,” Faron chirped. “Relaxing. Better than guiding stupid tourists around all day.”

  “I’m one of those stupid tourists,” Kyla reminded him.

  “Yeah. I don’t mean you guys, though. You’re the best clients I’ve had in a long time.”

  “Yeah. I’ll bet.”

  "I'm running out of adenine." Faron sifted through the beads as Kyla struggled to undo her tangled yarn.

  Aspen stood and brushed the dirt off her bum. "I'll get you some."

  “Thank you,” Faron smiled. “Hey, Kyla, did you know I tried dating an elf once?" he said as Aspen poured some more adenine into his basket.

  Kyla nodded. "Yeah, I remember you saying something about it.”

  "Yeah. Couldn't deal with my feet. I don't get why everyone has such a hard time with them. They're just feet."

  "I'm sure you'll find a girl who likes 'em".

  "Well, if we find the ciguapa. My friends and I've been talking about heading north for years. And all this time there's some right here!"

  One of the bandits laughed. It was Freilim, a small, horned ogre with sharp joints. "Ciguapa aren't interested in dating men. Only in eating them."

  Faron shrugged. "Those are just stories. They have to take mates, else they'd die out!"

  "Yeah. They mate, then they kill the poor sucker and eat 'em."

  Faron wrinkled his nose. "I'm not scared of fairy tales, They're people, just like anyone else. Worth a try, anyway. What, you think they're going to slaughter us if we find them?"

  Kyla knew little about the ciguapa, but Sophrosyne wouldn’t send her into an armed conflict. Would she? So far Kyla’s assignments indicated a certain negligence from her patron.

  "I'm sure it's fine," she finally muttered.

  ***

  Eunoe looked up as Kyla started complaining about the work. After the elf's many adventures, she was having a hard time spending her days sitting and knitting. The elf needed more of an outlet for her energy.

  "Why don't you sing for us?" Eunoe suggested. The elves were a musical people. Kyla was a bit pitchy, but her voice pretty.

  Kyla pursed her lips. "I only know two songs. One of them is kinda mean, it turns out. Do you want to hear The Ballad of Kinsel King?"

  Faron lit up. "I love that song! Let's do it!"

  "Okay. Just give me a second to find the note." Kyla hummed to herself until she looked satisfied with her pitch. Faron joined in, belting out the lyrics in uneasy harmony.

  'Kinsel King! The Ballad of Kinsel King!

  Kinsel King! The hero of Am-lareen!

  A god taken form, a heroic elf,

  He fought and he died, but not for himself:

  Kinsel King! The Ballad of Kinsel King!'

  Faron's voice softened as the song continued, as he didn't seem to know all the words, but he would follow with a low hum until he found a word or phrase he knew and shout it out.

  'His mother in birth, her wails could be heard,

  Across the seas and all over the world.

  The mid-wife was called and ran to her bed,

  But it was too late for the woman was dead.

  The baby inside gone too, so they feared

  The family wept and bathed the bodies in tears.

  When a loud battle cry the laments broke

  From inside the womb, the baby awoke

  And cut his way out with a sword in his hand

  And marched into the light to the sounds of a band

  And the hearts of all elves knew they had been blessed

  As the baby appeared, garbed in full battle dress.

  A hero was born, a response to the plea

  The long darkness was over, and all would be free.'

  At the chorus, Faron joined at full volume.

  'Kinsel King! The Ballad of Kinsel King!

  Kinsel King! The hero of Am-lareen!

  A god taken form, a heroic elf,

  He fought and he died, but not for himself:

  Kinsel King! The Ballad of Kinsel King!'

  Handrin started singing as well, though his voice was soft, and his eyes remained focused on his work. A few bandits joined in as the second part continued.

  'His childhood had six lifetimes within it

  What we do in a year he could do in a minute

  He’d the eye of an eagle, the mind of a fox,

  The stealth of a jaguar, the strength of an ox

  While hunting for food, at just two years old

  He looked at a bear and knocked it out cold.

  No braver elf has ever been made

  Fear never touched him, for it was too afraid.'

  The Ballad of Kinsel King, it turned out, was terribly long, and Kyla knew all the words. Fortunately, her stamina was unable to keep up with her vigor, and after a few hours she lost her voice and the crew continued its work in blissful silence.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Unlikely Discovery

  Hajar swam over to Marik with several small items in a stone bowl. Marik set down the curious statuette he was holding of a woman being birthed from an orca.

  Magic. Hajar beamed as she held up one of the items: a small pendant in the shape of the sun. The magic on this one is white and delicate. New magic.

  She was speaking to Ymir, who was standing behind him, but no matter. Hajar was proving useful.

  Ymir touched the pendant with her finger. Yes. This recently arrived. It fell to the ocean floor, and a local mermaid found it glowing in a dark crevasse. It stores light. I believe it is for children, who store it at their bedside. It collects the light by day, and sends it off during the night, to stave off the dark so the child can sleep in peace. She looked at Marik. A useful trinket, if you have children?

  No, Marik thought back, perhaps too forcefully.

  Hajar put the pendant back in the bowl and drew out a green stone with spikes coming out in all directions.

  This magic is rough, and green with pink swirls. I’ve never seen that before.

  An experiment. Ymir grabbed the stone and tossed it out the door. Where it landed on the ocean floor, a fern grew, its leaves swaying with the current. Only that fern will die soon, and never spore. Perhaps useful for a table dressing, if you and your wife entertain guests.

  Marik frowned. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Carmin appeared put off, though he couldn’t tell if it was from Ymir’s comment or his reaction to it. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t the perfect woman he had initially hoped. Real or fake, Sophrosyne had built her wrong.

  This one? He grabbed a necklace from the box. A shiny black stone hung from a thin gold chain. It wasn’t the same sort
of black stone as the fragments of the Stele of Bachtris. Those were opaque, but this was translucent.

  Old magic, and purple, Hajar thought.

  What does that mean? he wondered.

  Ancient magic. The sort in Kyla’s ring.

  Ymir shrugged. A bauble. I call it Solitude. It protects others from reading your thoughts down here, if you are concerned of something private pushing its way to the surface. Not a popular concept, as secrecy is a shameful habit in the Undine.

  Well. Marik held the necklace up before putting it around his neck. Ymir helped as his fingers fumbled with the clasp at the back of his neck.

  Can you hear me? He waited a few seconds, and when he heard no reply, he tried again. Still nothing.

  Smiling, he removed the necklace and looked at Ymir. Does it only work on surface thoughts? Or will it also guard from mind-reading?

  Who knows? Not much call for it down here. Can’t say I’ve tried it out, but as your friend says, it is an ancient magic, and the ancient wizards didn’t fiddle with trite enchantments. It is yours, if you wish, as I need to close.

  Marik thanked her and clasped the necklace back in place. Oh, the sweetness of privacy!

  Ymir gestured him toward the exit. I apologize, but I need to close shop for lunch.

  While Marik couldn’t tell time while in the depths of the ocean, he was sure it was too early for lunch. She probably wanted a chance to hide the stone fragment he sought.

  Come on. He beckoned Carmin and Hajar to follow as he swam out the nearest opening.

  Hajar put a rainbow-colored stone back on its shelf and hurried to catch up.

  Carmin was slower to follow and looked confused. Did you get it? The stone fragment for Sophrosyne?

  She is closing. We will have to come back another time.

  In truth, Marik no longer cared. He knew whom to contact should he want the fragment later. This necklace was a more important find. He needed to test it against Sophrosyne’s mind-reading abilities, and if it worked, he would be free of her constant prying.