Rebel Fay

by Barb Hendee

  It was still winter, even here, but far warmer than the Broken Range or its chill labyrinth of caves and tunnels they had traveled. Here, winter would feel like early autumn to outsiders. He did not know why. Perhaps the elves had lived here for so long that the region itself responded to their nurturing presence and returned it in kind.

  He hopped another brook. Wynn scurried to catch up and dug her fingers into the fur between his shoulders. She gripped him too tightly until he complained with a whine. She need not worry about losing him.

  A wandering line of elms, silver birch, and willows led to a small open slope. On its far side rose an old cedar, its trunk stout and wide as a grain wagon.

  "It's enormous," Magiere said. "I've never seen its like, even in the depths of Droevinka."

  Chap sniffed the scent of clean loam on the breeze.

  "We're here," Leesil half-whispered. "We actually found it."

  They had all suffered for it. Now Leesil walked a vast foreign territory, with little notion what to do next or where to look for his mother. In truth, Chap was little better off.

  He shrugged free of Wynn's grip, though she was reluctant to let go, and drifted back to lick Leesil's hand with a whine. Leesil was only half-elven, but could he feel the life that pulsed around them? If he let its current run through him, perhaps it would cleanse some of his burdens.

  Leesil scratched lightly behind Chap's ear but did not look down.

  Chap called up one of Leesil's distant memories of Nein'a leading a ten-year-old half-elf through the forest outside of Venjètz. The two moved in sync through the trees.

  Leesil breathed deeply. "I know. We have to go deeper."

  Magiere stepped close on Leesil's far side, brushing her shoulder to his.

  "Almost a dream of sorts… wasn't it? As if we'd never really find it."

  He did not respond at first, but finally hooked his tan fingers into her white ones.

  "Yes… no matter how hard we looked."

  "But we're here," Magiere added.

  "Have you learned to read minds now?"

  The jest held only a hint of Leesil's old mocking humor, but Magiere still smiled and pulled him forward.

  "Let's find your mother," she said.

  He followed but turned his head both ways, as if looking for something and then frowned.

  Wynn looked back at Chap over and over, to make sure he was still there. He trotted ahead to catch up to her. Her eyes wandered, but even as she passed black-stemmed amethyst flowers sprouting from dank tree branches, her wonderment was brief. Tiny hummingbirds of brashly mixed colors darted in and out of the large blooms.

  Chap led them deeper into the trees, and the world shifted completely to rich hues pulsing in the somber light filtering down through the forest canopy. He pondered calling a rest while he hunted for food on his own; his companions were fatigued and hungry, but at the same time, he was wary of letting them out of his watchful sight.

  "Did we pass those trees before?" Wynn asked, grasping his fur again.

  Chap barked twice for "no" and took another step. He led them true with certainty. Within a day he hoped to reach the nearest river sighted from up the mountain.

  Wynn's grip tightened and pulled him to a stop.

  "I don't think so," Leesil answered, and glanced back at the cluster of elms.

  Magiere released his hand, looking back along their path.

  "We're lost!" Wynn whispered sharply.

  "No, we're not." Magiere pointed to the old hulking cedar by the clearing slope, still within sight. "You can just see the line of trees back to the brook we crossed."

  Her gesture pulled Chap's attention, and Leesil followed it as well, but his brow wrinkled with uncertainty.

  "Yes… that's right," he finally agreed.

  "No, it is not," Wynn said.

  She turned a full circle, switching hands to keep hold of Chap. Twice she looked to where Magiere pointed, but her gaze flicked quickly about in confusion.

  "It is not the same," Wynn whispered, and shook her head.

  Chap was baffled. Even without scent he could backtrack their exact route by sight.

  "Not the same?" Magiere asked. "Not like… the elven lands near your home?"

  "No!" Wynn snapped. "I know those flowers—blhäcraova—and the birds feeding upon them are vänranas, but… but they are not where I saw them last."

  Chap stared at the purple tree-flowers and garish hummingbirds. They were exactly where he had passed them.

  "It changes," Leesil said quietly. "Sometimes… I think. The forest changes."

  Magiere grabbed his arm. "Nothing's changed."

  "I see where we came through." Leesil's uncertain gaze drifted back the way they had come. "But if… it's like I'm not sure until I look hard. And even then…"

  Chap studied all of them. In his youth, he had encountered no elf with memories of humans in this land. The mere thought raised fear, even among the Anmaglâhk, who walked secretly within the human nations. He knew some of the forest's natural safeguards, such as the majay-hì, but was there something more? Perhaps there was a reason no outsider ever returned from searching for this place.

  It seemed the impassible mountains were not the only barrier to entering the elven Territories.

  Chap studied the forest's depths. Something here addled the minds of his companions. It rejected those foreign to it, and each of his charges had human blood.

  "What about you?" Leesil asked.

  Magiere shook her head. "It all looks as it was."

  A question occurred to Chap an instant before Leesil asked it.

  "And why is that?"

  Chap eyed Magiere, wondering at this strange inconsistency. Magiere looked to him, and he huffed twice, for he had no answer.

  Leesil's lesser confusion, compared to Wynn's, could be attributed to his half-elven blood, but Magiere was as human as the sage. The only difference was her dhampir nature. But Chap could not see how that would make her immune. And if it did… such a twist left him deeply disturbed.

  Dusk thickened among the trees and undergrowth.

  "We must camp," Wynn said too quickly. "I do not want to walk this place at night."

  Chap agreed. Before he barked approval, a flash of movement back near the massive cedar caught his eye. He growled.

  "What?" Wynn asked too loudly.

  Leesil jerked loose the holding straps of his punching blades as Magiere drew her falchion. Chap pulled free of Wynn's grip and inched back the way they had come.

  From a distance, two of the cedar's branches seemed to move.

  They separated from the others, drifting around the cedar's far side and into the clearing. Below them came a long equine head that turned toward the interlopers. Large crystalline eyes like Chap's own peered through the forest.

  A deer would have been dainty next to this massive beast, though this was the closest comparison that came to Chap. Silver-gray in hue, its coat was long and shaggy. Two curved horns sprouted high from its head—smooth, without prongs, but as long as Chap's whole body.

  He had never seen such a creature near the elven enclave where he was born.

  Leesil pulled the crossbow off his back and quietly cocked its string, as Magiere handed him a quarrel from the quiver strapped to her pack.

  The enormous silver animal stood motionless, staring at them through the forest. It slowly stepped an arc along the clearing's slope. Its crystal eyes never blinked, never strayed from watching them. It had no fear. Perhaps it did not know it was in danger.

  Chap turned cold inside.

  In the wild elven lands, this creature did not know of being hunted. He barked twice, as loudly as he could.

  "Quiet!" Leesil ordered in a whisper. "We need food."

  The animal did not start at the sound of Chap's voice. Whatever this creature might be, it appeared that neither elf nor even majay-hì hunted its kind. If they had, it would have fled at the sight of Chap himself, if not the others. And its eyes…
the hue of its fur… so similar to his own.

  Chap whirled about and lunged at Leesil with snapping jaws. Again, he barked twice for "no."

  "Leesil, stop!" Wynn hissed. "Chap says no!"

  "I heard him," Leesil answered, but remained poised with the crossbow aimed through the trees.

  "Leesil…" Magiere said.

  He simply held the crossbow in place, fingers wrapped around the stock upon its firing lever.

  Then the animal pawed the earth once, lifted its muzzle skyward, and a deafening bellow filled the air.

  The sound rose up from its wide chest and out its open mouth and rolled through the forest.

  Wynn sucked in a sharp breath, and even Magiere backed up a step.

  Chap froze where he stood, not knowing what this meant. Then he bolted toward the creature, weaving through bushes and underbrush, until he slowed to stand beneath the cedar's branches.

  The deer ceased its bellow, muzzle dropping from the air, and it studied him in stillness.

  The scent of musk and something sweet like lilacs filled Chap's head.

  It began wandering off the way it had come, but in a few steps it stopped. With long horns tilted to touch its own back, it lifted its muzzle high and bellowed again.

  Chap ducked behind the cedar and raced back to his companions. A third bellow rang in his ears as he reached Leesil.

  Leesil turned with the crossbow still raised, following the deer's passage. His eyes shifted once toward Magiere.

  "That thing is making a lot of noise. And it would still make a decent supper."

  Chap snarled at him.

  Wynn stepped in front of the crossbow. "Put it away."

  "He's joking," Magiere said, but cast Leesil a warning glance. "He's not going to shoot it."

  The deer vanished into the forest's depths, but another bellow carried from farther off as Leesil lowered the crossbow.

  "Let's put some distance between ourselves and that loudmouth."

  Chap searched for any recollection of this strange being but found nothing among his memories. The deer's continued noise unnerved him, and he agreed it was best to get away from it. He started into a trot but immediately slowed so Wynn could take hold of him. He pushed the pace as fast as the little sage could manage.

  Daylight was nearly gone. Somewhere behind them, the deer bellowed again—and again. No matter how far or fast Chap went, the next tone was no farther behind them. The deer was following.

  A flash of steel gray darted through a teal-leafed bush ahead.

  Chap dug his forepaws into mossy earth, and Wynn stumbled as he jerked to a halt.

  The movement vanished in the deepening dusk behind a cluster of pale pines.

  Not the deer, for it was too quick and low, and the ground did not tremble beneath large hooves. Chap heard claws cutting the earth as it flashed by.

  He sidestepped, herding Wynn to the nearest tree. He settled himself, ready to charge anything that might rush from hiding.

  Undergrowth rustled, and his head snapped to the left. Another movement flickered in the right corner of his vision, then another ahead. This time he caught a glimpse of fur, four legs, and glittering eyes. A scent drifted to his nose, but too thin as yet to recognize. A canine?

  Chap slowly turned, watching darting forms circling around, out in the forest.

  Across the way, Leesil half-crouched and blindly aimed the crossbow out into the trees. He jerked it quickly to the right. Magiere stood behind him with her falchion drawn.

  "Light the damn crystal!" he snapped. "Now, Wynn!"

  A head peeked out from behind a fir tree.

  Chap growled before he could stop himself. He sniffed the air as Wynn's crystal lit up the narrow clearing. Something pushed its way through the teal-leafed bush into clear view.

  Chap's tension melted in shock as he heard Magiere exhale.

  "Majay-hì!" Wynn whispered.

  Crystalline irises like sky-tinted gems stared at Chap from a long face covered in silver-blue fur. Its ears rose up to match his own, and Chap's breath caught.

  At least five more circled in the forest around the intruders, weaving in and out of the vegetation. Like himself, they were long-legged, long-faced, and tall as hounds. Two were a darker shade of steel-gray, nearly as alike as twins. And one more was darker still.

  His dark color, like ink brushed into his thick coat, made his eyes float in the dusk-shadowed space beneath a fir tree. He loped an arc to another overhang of branches, and the crystal's light caught the gray peppering in his muzzle.

  The one peeking out from the teal-leafed bush dipped his nose, head cocked in puzzlement. He looked from Leesil to Wynn and wrinkled his jowls to expose teeth.

  Chap answered with a low rumble and exposed his own fangs.

  Leesil backed toward Magiere, crossbow still raised. "Chap?"

  He had no answer, even if he could have given one. He had no idea what these majay-hì wanted or why they closed in. A glimmer of white darted from around the tree where the black-furred elder stood watching.

  The female's coat was so pale it looked cream-white in the crystal's glow. A hint of yellow sparked in her irises. She was delicate and narrow-boned, and stepped so lightly that Chap wondered if her paws even left prints in the loam.

  "Look," Wynn murmured, and the sight of the white majay-hì seemed to blot away her panic. "Like a water lily… I never thought others would vary so much from Chap."

  "Don't get any ideas," Magiere warned. "They're not Chap… and I don't think they want us here."

  Chap knew they were not like him, and not only in the way Magiere meant. They were only majay-hì—distant descendants of born-Fay from long ago and guardians of this wild land. They were like his mother and his siblings of childhood.

  "Their faces…" Wynn said, the edge in her voice returning, "the way they move. I do not think any are inhabited by a Fay. But can they still understand us at all?"

  Chap took two steps toward the silver-blue before him. It backed into the brush, sniffing the air. A growl pulled Chap's attention to the dark elder beneath the fir tree.

  A steel-gray and the white female circled him. As they passed each other, they touched or rubbed heads, one to the next. Chap reached out, trying to snatch any surfacing memory passing through their thoughts.

  Jumbled images assaulted him, one after the other. Some repeated and the order disjointed further. He fought to grasp and sort them, but there were so many coming so fast. He caught only pieces…

  The strange massive deer, and its urgent voice.

  Racing toward its distant bellow.

  A glimpse of an anmaglâhk in forest-gray attire.

  Himself…

  In the last flash that Chap grasped before it was buried in another cascade of sights, sounds, and scents, he saw himself through their eyes.

  And these pieces of memory echoed from one among the touching trio to another.

  Chap watched the majay-hl brush heads as the white and gray circled about the black elder.

  Memories passed each time they touched. Not the random, scant surfac-ings of humans, but images passed willfully, one to the other.

  Chap withdrew his awareness, shutting out the kaleidoscope that filled him with vertigo. It was too much to take in. But one image lingered as the silver-gray in the bush stepped forward.

  An anmaglâhk in forest gray.

  Chap backed away, looking again to the trio beneath the tree.

  His eyes locked with the white female's. There were indeed flecks of gold within her chill-blue irises.

  Chap's inaction left Leesil dumbfounded. He didn't know how much threat these dogs posed, and he expected some kind of lead from Chap.

  All the majay-hì froze under another thrumming bellow in the forest.

  Far out in the trees Leesil spotted the dim shape of the large silver deer. It stood posed upon a deep green hillock.

  The majay-hì circled away into the forest like smoke thinning into the dark.

>   Chap stood rigid, ears pricked forward.

  "Why are they are leaving?" Wynn asked.

  Leesil had no answer. "We need to get out of here… find a place to camp."

  Magiere's gaze remained on the trees where the majay-hì had vanished.

  "What about food?" Wynn added.

  Leesil had no idea where or how to find food, let alone what might be edible. This forest played with his wits, and even in daylight he had to concentrate just to see which way he had come.

  "Camp first," Magiere said. "Then maybe Chap can come up with something."

  Leesil sidestepped toward Chap, still watching the trees, and laid a hand on the dog's back. Chap was trembling.

  "Can you find us another clearing?" Leesil asked.

  Chap shook himself. He glanced about, circled around for Wynn to take hold, and padded off away from the sound of the deer.

  A long arrow pierced the earth in front of Chap.

  Leesil grabbed Wynn and jerked her back.

  "Find cover!" he yelled.

  With Wynn tucked behind him, he backed toward a moss-covered old log to his right. He heard a knock as something struck wood.

  Wynn gasped. "Leesil!"

  Another long arrow shuddered where it stood, embedded in the log. The shining metal head was familiar enough, like the bright-bladed stilettos his mother had once given him.

  "Smother the crystal," he whispered.

  Wynn closed the crystal in her fist, stuffed it into her coat pocket, and its light vanished.

  Leesil couldn't see anything up in the branches, but he didn't wish to give their attackers the advantage of light. He heard something strike the earth to his rear, and then Magiere's voice.

  "Damn it!"

  Leesil didn't need to look for the arrow that had cut her off. "Get up against that tree, and don't move until we see them. We're open targets down here."

  Chap rumbled from somewhere out in the darkness.

  Leesil knew the dog was trying to sniff out their assailants. None of the three shafts had struck them but rather blocked any attempt at escape. He reached under with his left hand and undid the catch-strap of the stiletto on his right wrist.