Marzi sat wide-eyed, staring at her. “That’s horrible. Who would do that? No. Why would anyone kill someone else? That would never happen. I never heard of anything like that.” She knew about people dying. They grew old and passed to the next life, or so she was told. And sometimes there were accidents.
Ariessa narrowed her eyes. She spoke with a low tone but also with a note of firmness, determination. “What of your army? How large is it?”
Marzi reached up and scratched her ear. These were strange questions. “I don’t understand army. We do have a lot of large machines, but I don’t know all the names of them. Maybe one of them is an army thing.”
She noticed Lothran’s face betraying a smile as he lowered his gaze. Other than that, she could not see any reaction from the group at the table. The empress spoke again. “No, little one. An army is a group of people, mostly warriors, whose job it is to defend their realm and those who live there.”
“Oh, okay. I understand. Army? I never heard it called that. We have a constable. He makes sure things stay all peaceful. And if someone does mischief, he goes to see the parents. And sometimes he breaks up fights.” She paused, struggling for the right words. “But we only have one of them.”
Smiles broke out on the faces of two of the elves, although the leader kept her own gaze expressionless. “I see.” She glanced to her right and left, at the other elves in her company. “What do you know of our people, the dark elves?”
Marzi shrugged. “My mom told us stories about elves. When we go to sleep on Mid-Winter’s Eve, the elves were supposed to ride down on moonbeams and hide sugar candies in the town square. All the children go searching the next day. Whoever finds the most gets a prize.” She focused her gaze on the leader’s icy stare. “But I guess they are different kinds of elves.”
“And?”
A thought occurred to Marzi, and, before she could check herself, the question was out of her mouth. “Why do they call you dark elves? I mean, you aren’t actually dark.”
A chuckle escaped Lothran despite his apparent attempt to suppress it. The others smiled, all except Ariessa, that is. “If it is acceptable to you, little one, I will ask the questions.”
Marzi felt her face turning red. She lowered her gaze to the table top and nodded.
Lothran spoke for the first time. “With your permission, Empress, I repeat what I said before. She is but a child. The story she told, as fantastic as it sounds, seems hardly something a young one would make up in these circumstances. I suggest that things are as she says, nothing more.”
Ariessa turned her head to gaze at the man, tilting her head slightly and narrowing her eyes as she considered him. “Perhaps.” She returned her attention to Marzi. “Perhaps.” She took a breath and turned to stare out one of the windows, seeming to take in part of the sky. “In any event, there are few options here. Marzi Gloam of Pangrove, it is with some hesitation that I agree to this, but we will allow you to remain here with us in Twilight Bough, provided that you obey our laws and respect our people. You will also be trained to take your place as a productive member of the community.” She returned her stare to Marzi. “Do you understand?”
Marzi nearly choked on the panic rising in her chest and throat. “No! I need to find my brother and go home. My mom and dad are looking for me. I want to go home.” She felt tears gather and stifled a whimper.
Chapter 18: Marzi
“No! I can’t be here.” Marzi pleaded with Ryshara. “I have to go home.” She felt foolish staring up, her head barely reaching the waist of the elf. “You need to help me go home.”
Rys returned the stare, a soft, sad look in her eyes. “Marzi, I would help you, but at eighteen summers I myself am just out of childhood—a young adult. Ariessa makes the decrees and we are bound to follow. And even if I would disobey our leader, I know not how to go about getting you home. Neither you nor I know where it is.” She turned to walk toward her house.
Marzi scampered after her, trying to keep up with the long elven strides. “But you know where I was, where you found me. I mean, I rode a moonbeam down. There must be something near there that would take me home.”
Rys stopped and turned to face her. “No. I have walked along that stream a hundred times. There is nothing there or anywhere near. I would have seen it. And even if I had missed it, our scouts and hunters move in the forest constantly. Something like what you describe would not have gone unnoticed.” She resumed her stride. “I tell you, there is nothing to be done.”
Marzi started to go with her but stopped, loudly proclaiming, “If no one will help, I will just go back by myself.” She stood, arms crossed, and watched as the elf stopped in her tracks.
Rys returned to Marzi’s side and knelt. “Marzi, you need to understand. Since you are not of our kind, the meaning of Ariessa’s words—you may remain—might have eluded you. She did not mean that you are allowed to be here. She meant that you must remain. You cannot leave. You are a prisoner.” The last few words trailed off as if the elf was trying to avoid the meaning.
Marzi exploded. “What? What do you mean? I’ve done nothing wrong. I haven’t hurt anyone. You have no right to keep me here.” She stamped her foot as she shouted.
Rys put a hand on her shoulder. “Keep your voice down. It is understandable that you are upset. But people will hear you—people who may not be aware of your circumstances. To them, you will seem perhaps dangerous.” The elf squeezed Marzi’s shoulder. “Keep in mind that you are something the likes of which we have never seen. You wander into our world unannounced and uninvited. Now you know about us and our world, you could take that information to our enemies.”
Marzi had heard the word enemies before but wasn’t sure of the exact meaning. From the sound of the elf’s voice, though, it didn’t seem a good thing. “Which enemies would I tell? I don’t know anyone but my own people.”
“And how do we know that your people are not our enemies?”
Marzi reached up and scratched her ear. “What, do you think that all people other than elves are your—enemies?”
Rys shrugged. “Our history speaks of other beings in the past—large, hulking warlike beastly beings that roll over other people with brute force. And another race of sentient beings that dwell in secrecy and darkness, plotting to conquer and rule all.”
Marzi thought this all sounded like some of the fairy tales her mother had told her. She shrugged. “I’ve never heard of anything like that. Besides, look at me. Do I look like any of those?” She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
Rys spoke over her shoulder as she increased her stride. “I do not know what you are.”
“So you assume I’m bad? Anything you don’t know about is bad?”
Rys stopped and turned to face her. “Our people have faced terrible times in the past. We have learned that, in order to survive, we must be constantly alert. And, yes, that means we are suspicious of anything unknown to us.” She tilted her head as she spoke. Her eyes, unlike those of Ariessa, shone with a soft sparkle that spoke of kindness. “So as harsh as this seems to you, our leaders must look out for our people. And that means that you will remain here with us.” She smiled. “But it is not so bad. Our lives are good.” She gestured around at the homes in the beautiful Bough.
Tears streamed down Marzi’s cheeks. “But this is not my home.”
Chapter 19: Tovi
Tovi handed his stone plate and cup to Mamaw. “Thank you.”
Klunk’s mother nodded curtly and turned to her son. “I have a delivery for you to make.” She crossed to the other side of the hut and retrieved a new leather pack with shoulder straps. “Take this to Mogurt. The cost is a red and two greenlets.” She held it out for Klunk.
He took the pack and nodded. “We are gone then.” He turned and strode toward the door. Tovi followed.
As the two made the brief trip across the kraal toward another hut, Tovi broke into a trot just to keep up. “Wait. Slow down, will you?”
Kl
unk paused and turned. “Oh. Sorry.” He resumed walking, although at a much slower pace.
Tovi hurried to catch up. “What is a red and a—what did she call it—a greenlet?”
“You will see. Come.”
As they mounted the stoop of the hut, Klunk called out, “Mogurt.” He stood and waited.
A voice floated out. “Yes, yes.” The leather sheet parted, and an older giant stepped out. “Ah, the pack.” He took the item and stepped back through the doorway, motioning the two with his head. “Come, please.”
Inside, two smaller giants, children by the look of them, sat over to one side while a female stood near a counter on the other side. Mogurt turned the pack over, checking it from different angles and then examining it closely. “Very good. Very good. Tell your mother that I am pleased. The stitching, yes, it is perfect.”
He went over and retrieved a wooden box from a table that sat against the wall. Opening the top, he turned toward Klunk and Tovi. “So it is a red and three greenlets, is it not?”
Klunk rubbed his head. “No. Mamaw said it is a red and two greenlets. That is all.”
Mogurt smiled. “So it is. So it is.” He pulled out a red crystal, easily the size of his hand, and set it on the table. He then took out two smaller green crystal pieces. Handing them all to Klunk, he nodded. “Here. And thank your mother, please.”
Tovi reached up and scratched his head. He had rarely heard so many pleases as he had in this hut. Maybe it’s just the way grown-ups talk here.
Later that night, Tovi lay on a pad next to Klunk in the darkened hut. Exhaustion had set in, but sleep eluded him. “Hey, Klunk.”
A groggy sound emanated from the huge bulk beside him. “Hmm.”
“What were those crystals that Mogurt gave you?”
The response came with an efficiency of words. “A red and two greenlets.”
“I know. But what are they for?”
“For the pack.”
“Yeah, but, I mean, what are the crystals used for?”
Klunk rolled over and pulled the sheet up over his shoulder. “Nothing. Just to trade. Mamaw made Mogurt a pack and he paid her with crystals.”
Tovi stared up at the top of the hut trying to figure it out. Back in Pangrove, they did this with coins carved and hammered from metal. Carrying them around in the pocket would be a lot easier than carrying those large things. But they were very pretty. “Where do you get the crystals?”
“Go to sleep. Tomorrow we must gather roots and nuts. And then we set traps for desert hares. Sleep.”
Chapter 20: Tovi
The isolated and shady grove of topar nut trees provided welcome respite from the blistering sun. He sat next to Klunk sipping water and cooling off. Despite scouring the ground all around them, Tovi saw nothing resembling a nut. He looked up into the trees and noticed spots of tan among the green leaves. “Are the nuts all up there?”
Klunk tilted his head back and looked up for a moment. “Yes. All up there. Anything that falls is taken away by small animals.”
“How do we get them down?”
The giant chortled. “I must climb the trees and jump up and down on the limbs to shake the nuts free. Then they fall. And we collect them.”
Tovi squinted as he stared up. “Maybe I could climb up. I’m smaller and lighter than you.”
Klunk’s laugh became a smile. “Yes, you are smaller and lighter, and you could climb the tree. But I think you are not heavy enough to shake the nuts loose.” He shrugged. “If you jumped up and down, I think that the limbs would not even know you were there.”
“Okay.” Tovi took another swig of water and pulled out a strip of dried hare. Tearing off a piece with his teeth and munching on the chewy meat, he mulled over his next question, one that he wasn’t sure how to ask. “Klunk,” he dragged the name out, “what are you?” He had never known anything but Azyreans, and the giant was definitely not one of those.
Klunk set his water skin down and stared at Tovi. “I am Klunk. You know.”
“No, I mean, what are you.”
Tovi pointed to his chest. “Tovi. Azyrean.” He pointed at Klunk. “Klunk…?” He waited with anticipation as Klunk seemed to puzzle over his question.
Recognition swept across Klunk’s face accompanied by a broad smile. He pointed at his own chest. “Klunk. Ogre.”
“Ogre?” Tovi had heard the term before, but it was when his mother told him fairy tales and bedtime stories. Strange that in those stories ogres are usually fierce, mean monsters. That’s not at all how Klunk and the rest of these ogres are.
Klunk nodded. “Yes.” He pointed to Tovi. “Tovi—Azyr...how do you say it?” He then leaned back against the trunk of the tree. “Klunk—Ogre.”
Tovi laughed. “Azyrean. Ah-zeer-ee-un.”
The giant joined the laughter. “Azyr ean. Azyrean.” He slapped his thigh with an open hand. “That is good one, huh.” The laughter gave way to another puzzled look. “Why are you so small?”
Tovi had never thought about being small. He was, after all, the same size as the other kids. But there was no denying that he was tiny compared to Klunk. “I don’t know. Adults are bigger, but I’m average for kids my age. Why are you so large?”
Klunk chortled again. “I am not so large, you are just so small. Another good one, huh.” The two settled into silence as they chewed their dried meat and sipped water.
The sun beat down relentlessly, but beneath the trees a cool breeze swept over them. Cool, at least compared to the hot, blistering wind that pelted them on their journey from the kraal. After finishing his snack, Tovi leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. At first, he thought about home and his mother and father. But then, he started feeling good. He and Klunk had made the trip here together. And Klunk talked to him like, well, like it was fun, and like he was a grown-up. No one ever treated him that way back home.
He opened his eyes and glanced over at the ogre, who sat making circles and lines in the sand with a small stick. Klunk turned and considered him. “Your home, it is far away?”
Tovi thought about the question. He wasn’t sure how far away home was. But Pangrove has seven moons, three of which are always up. And none of them are named Brahl. And ogres only exist in stories that his mother told him. Reality hit him hard—he was a very, very long way from home. “Yes. I think so.” He pointed up. “I think Pangrove is on another world, but I don’t know where.”
Klunk’s gaze shifted upward in the direction that Tovi pointed. “Yes. But maybe Myhrren can help you.”
Tovi hadn’t thought of that. “Myhrren? Is he the leader of the ogres?”
“No. He is not an ogre. I think he is a human, but I have never seen him. Sometimes the chief goes to see him and comes back and talks to us.”
The possibility of going home washed over Tovi. “When do we go see him?”
Klunk stood and stretched. “Soon.” He walked around the small grove examining each tree trunk. Finally, he stood beside one and patted it with this hand. “I think this one. It is time to gather nuts.”
Chapter 21: Tovi
Tovi’s pack was considerably heavier when the two left the copse of trees and ventured back out into the sun and wind-swept desert sands. “What’s next?”
Klunk strode out in front, periodically pausing to let the Azyrean catch up. “We need to dig up some carod roots.” He pointed ahead. “There, maybe one-hour walk.”
Already the sun had passed overhead, and the shadows began to get a little longer. The heat had intensified while they gathered nuts. Tovi took out a piece of cloth and wrapped it around his forehead. He wanted another drink of water but figured he’d wait until Klunk took a drink. After all, the ogre knew the desert better than he did.
Tovi struggled under the weight of his pack. “Is your family going to eat all these nuts?”
Klunk responded without looking back. “No. Not all. We eat some and trade some for crystals.” He kept up the pace.
Altho
ugh it seemed like forever, eventually Klunk pointed ahead. “There. We will dig roots and get more water. A spring is among the trees.”
As they trudged into the small oasis, Tovi dropped his pack on the ground and rushed to a small pond. He scooped the cool water into his mouth and then splashed his face. “Ah. That’s good.” He sat back and gazed across the desert toward the direction from which they had come. “Why is there water here, right in the middle of the desert?”
Klunk shrugged as he rummaged about in his pack. “There is water under the ground everywhere. Just in some places it comes to the surface, like here.” He pulled out an empty cloth bag. “We should start digging roots. It is a long walk back to the kraal and we don’t want to be out in the dark.”
Tovi glanced around the area. Long grass grew near the pool of water and, further back, leafy plants abounded. “What do the roots look like?”
The ogre strode over to some of the leafy plants. “These, the ones with the jagged edges on the leaves.” He reached down and grasped the plant by the stalk just below the foliage and pulled it out of the ground, revealing a long, orange root.
“Oh, those are carrots.” Tovi had seen lots of those. He’d just never had to pick them. He plopped down next to a patch.
“Be careful, though. Desert snakes hide near the plants. If you reach down on one, they bite. Not kill you, but make you really sick, so you cannot move for maybe a day.” Klunk held his hand out and pointed with his other. “See this scar? I got bit once while I was out picking carod root. I spent the night alone and others came for me the next day. Bad bite. Be careful.”
Tovi moved a few leaves aside and inspected the ground around the plants—nothing that looked like snakes there. He reached down and pulled up a carrot and stuffed it in his bag. Nothing to this. He reached for another. “Where is your father?”
Klunk hunched over some plants. “Papaw works in the mine getting crystals. He stays there at night for a while, then he comes home for a while.”
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