Rebel Fay

by Barb Hendee

  Magiere hadn't forgotten why the man had come to Bela. If she came at him, she wouldn't be reserved in how she took from Sgäile what was hers.

  Sgäile gave her a pronounced nod. "I will carry them. You have my word."

  Leesil put a hand on Magiere's arm, then noticed Osha standing silently inside the doorway with his eyes on Wynn. The young anmaglâhk dropped his gaze with the barest hint of hurt on his long face. She hadn't suggested him as the bearer of arms.

  Strangest of all, Chap hadn't moved or spoken up. He lay quietly behind Wynn, his eyes equally on Magiere and Sgäile. The dog had been the first to turn vicious at the sight of Sgäile appearing with the other anmaglâhk, but now he was merely watchful.

  Leesil took a slow breath. Things were growing more tense by the day.

  Leanâlhâm returned from taking away platters and bowls. She stopped in the doorway but didn't seem to note the mood in the room. She remained in place, blocking anyone's exit.

  "I come with you, Uncle," she said.

  Sgäile's expression flattened, and then turned incredulous. Leesil had never seen so much unguarded emotion on the man's face. Before Sgäile could speak, Leanâlhâm rushed on.

  "We need beeswax and seed oil—for the candles and lanterns—and we are almost out of cinnamon…"

  "Such things are available in closer reach," Sgäile said, his voice rising a bit too much. "Closer than where we are headed."

  "It is a year since you took me to Crijeâiche. There are many craftspeople who gather there, and it is the heart of our land, is it not? Please, Uncle."

  Sgäile's jaw twitched. He switched to Elvish, speaking sharply to the girl. Leesil didn't have to know the language to get the gist of it. He suspected Leanâlhâm's request had nothing to do with cinnamon or beeswax.

  Gleann jumped in with a few words, and Sgäile's open frustration mounted. This festival of emotion on his usually passive face was almost amusing. But Leesil found himself agreeing. He didn't need some infatuated girl tagging along.

  "Let her come," Magiere said suddenly. "We'll look out for her."

  "Then it is settled," Gleann said.

  "It is not settled!" Sgäile replied. "Grandfather, you do not understand what—"

  "I will prepare you a list, Leanâlhâm," Gleann said. "Your uncle will help you find everything."

  Sgäile gestured at Magiere and Wynn, speaking Elvish again in short, clipped words.

  "That is no reason your cousin cannot accompany you," Gleann replied in plain Belaskian. "How could she not be safe traveling with two others of your own caste? Leanâlhâm, get your things, as everyone is now waiting on you.

  Sgäile almost threw up his hands.

  Leesil remembered Wynn's scant comments from their first night within the forest. The Anmaglâhk didn't have rank like soldiers. Seniority of experience aside, they obeyed the one chosen to lead a particular mission. It seemed family hierarchies were another matter, even among mature adults. Gleann was the household elder and had the last word.

  Leanâlhâm rushed past Sgäile and up the stairs. By the time Sgäile uttered two more frustrated phrases to Gleann, the girl scrambled back down with a hastily cinched canvas bundle slung over her narrow shoulder.

  Leesil groaned softly as he grabbed the skulls' chest and Magiere picked up her pack. Sgäile hauled the rest of the baggage out the door in silence, where Urhkar awaited.

  Others of the village were already out and about. Most paused to watch from between domicile trees or across the village's mossy center space. Once loaded up, Sgäile led their procession quickly back out the way they'd come. Leesil didn't look about to see the reaction of those watching, but he noticed that Gleann followed along.

  Once out of sight of the village, Gleann caught up to Leesil and stopped Magiere as well. He shooed the stoic Urhkar on ahead. Urhkar might have frowned, though it was hard to tell as he walked on.

  Leesil offered his hand to Gleann. "Thanks for the welcome stay."

  Gleann studied this gesture in puzzlement and slowly lifted his hand.

  Leesil had to take it in his own before the man smiled with understanding of the parting gesture.

  "Perhaps we'll see you again someday," Magiere added.

  Gleann turned serious, almost hard. "I do not hope so. For if so, I fear events will have turned against you. Finish what you must in our land… then leave quickly."

  He looked warily beyond Magiere at Sgäile and the others before he faced her again.

  "My grandson has a true if misguided heart," he said, "so trust his word, but not always his judgment."

  Magiere slowly held out her own hand. Gleann took it with a smile as if he'd said nothing at all—as if she were no more human than he. He walked back toward the village, with Leesil watching him in silence.

  When Leesil turned away, he found Sgäile waving to them, so he tugged Magiere's sleeve as he moved on. No sooner had they rejoined the others than Leanâlhâm took up walking close behind on his right. The rest stepped ahead except for Urhkar, who trailed at the rear.

  From far behind, Leesil heard the strange high-pitched song of a bird as on other days of their journey. And just as before, when he searched for it, he saw nothing.

  As they crossed a grass field beyond the village enclosure, Chap veered off, looking into the trees. Leesil spotted movement as a rush of silver-gray scurried by on all fours. Then another, as the majay-hì appeared one by one out in the forest. None came closer.

  Wynn stepped up behind Chap, and then something shook the leaves of a bush. A blur of silver-white burst into sight.

  The white female hopped forward and stopped. She yipped and darted at Chap, then quickly dodged away.

  "Go on," Wynn said to Chap.

  Chap didn't look at her but rather toward Sgäiles back, and then he trotted off.

  Unlike the other majay-hì, Chap always remained within sight. More often than the others, Leesil spotted the white dog roaming near him.

  Chapter Seven

  F our days passed without incident. The forest's monotonous sounds droned in Leesil's ears, but his mother was never far from his thoughts. Their routine was little more than breaking camp at dawn, trudging all day, and stopping only when dusk ended and night settled upon them. Every time Leesil asked how much farther they would travel, Sgäile only answered, "Days… more days."

  Chap ran with the majay-hì, returning often to pace close to the procession, at which point Leesil noticed the other dogs vanished. But the last time this happened, the white female stayed in sight among the trees.

  Osha tried steadily in broken Belaskian to coax Wynn into talking, as she ignored him completely when he spoke Elvish. Little by little she relented. If their conversation carried on too long, Sgäile halted it with a single look. But today, he was less vigilant, and the two continued, often slipping into Elvish. The longer Leesil listened to them shifting between tongues, the more he picked out words here and there. He wasn't certain what was a verb or noun, but perhaps one of two "root words," as Wynn called them, began to sound familiar.

  "Wynn," he called out, "none of our stuff has gone missing since we left Sgäile's village. Ask Osha if he thinks we've lost that tâshgâlh."

  She craned her head around at him, slightly troubled. "I already have. He said it may have found something more interesting in the enclave. The Coilehkrotall will not thank us."

  "The Co-il-ee… the what?"

  "Sgäile and Gleann's clan… people of the 'Lichen Woods.' "

  "Well, they can't blame us. We didn't invite that overgrown squirrel along."

  Though Sgäile didn't turn, Leesil saw the man shake his head as he continued onward.

  "Osha, what are these?" Wynn asked as she pointed to a large clear space between two silver birches.

  Leesil stopped beside her and leaned over to examine a strange patch of flowers. Normally, Wynn's fascination with plants bored him, but he had to admit these were odd.

  The pearl-colored petals—or leaves
by their shape—looked fuzzy like velvet. They seemed to glow under the bright sun filling the small space. Their stems and base were a dark green, nearly black where sunlight didn't touch them. Leesil crouched down as Wynn reached for one.

  Soft booted feet appeared beside Leesil, and a dark-skinned hand grabbed Wynn's wrist. Leesil rose quickly, nearly knocking over Leanâlhâm standing too close behind him.

  Osha shook his head, releasing Wynn. "No."

  Leanâlhâm took Leesil's arm, trying to pull him away.

  Magiere came up behind them. "What's all this about?"

  Sgäile hurried over and looked down at the flowers. "You cannot touch these. They are sacred," he said pointedly. "Osha should have explained before you tried to approach."

  Osha's jaw clenched. Clearly he was growing tired of being blamed whenever one of their charges broke some unknown rule.

  "Sacred?" Wynn asked.

  Questioning Sgäile was futile from Leesil's perspective, but it seemed an especially bad idea whenever he looked displeased.

  "They are sacred," Sgäile repeated. "Do not disturb them."

  He motioned everyone to start moving again.

  For the first time, Leesil had some idea what it must feel like to be Wynn. Maybe he was sick of Sgäile's evasiveness, or maybe he just wanted a real answer for once. The notion was interrupted by a burst of chittering overhead that sounded oddly like laughter. To Leesil's surprise, the elves all looked up with brightened expressions. Wynn tilted her head back so far that Leesil thought she might topple right over.

  "Now what?" Magiere asked.

  The trees seemed to come alive with movement as small creatures jumped from one branch to the next, making the leafy limbs shudder as if they too were laughing.

  "Good fortune," Osha said in Belaskian, his lilting accent so thick the words were barely recognizable. He called Wynn over with the wave of one finger, pointing above as he spoke to her in Elvish.

  The little creatures tumbling and hopping among the leaves had arms and tails longer than their thin furry bodies. Their heads had flat snouts and wide mouths between rounded ears, making them look almost human. Soft cream-colored bellies and faces broke their overall rusty coloring and matched the tuft of light hair springing from the ends of their long, curling tails. Oddest of all, they had feet like long hands.

  "Fra'cise!" Wynn smiled widely. "Osha says they are filled with the playful spirits of the forest and bring good luck to those they follow. They are similar to a type of monkey."

  "A type of what?" Leesil asked, as he'd never heard of such a creature.

  Wynn started to reply, then simply shook her head and went back to watching the antics among the branches. One fra'cise hung upside down by its feet and swung so wildly back and forth that Leesil started to get queasy.

  "They don't look fortunate to me," Magiere said. "More like a tâshgâlh that's been sneaking someone's ale."

  Leanâlhâm put her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. "These are not thieves, just playful ones of our forest."

  The fra'cise didn't come closer. They continued to swing and chatter overhead. Then as quickly as they appeared, they were gone, lunging from one tree to the next and off into the forest.

  Wynn's barrage of Elvish erupted so fast that Osha looked overwhelmed.

  The appearance of these idiotic little animals seemed to cut away Leanâlhâm s wary shyness. She dashed out into the forest, following them and pointing ahead to the branches above. Wynn jogged after the girl, a little less gracefully in her oversized clothes, and they slipped from sight among the tree trunks.

  Magiere took two steps after them. "Both of you get back here!"

  From somewhere in the brush, Leanâlhâm cried out, "Sgäilsheilleache!"

  Leesil lunged off the path behind Magiere. Then he remembered they were unarmed. He ran on with the chest slamming against his back. Magiere dropped her pack, trying to keep up with him.

  Sgäile was already five paces ahead, running through the trees, smashing his way through underbrush around stout cedars and oaks.

  Far off to the left, Urhkar outdistanced all of them. Osha came up quick on Leesil's heels as they broke the edge of a bare ground clearing with patches of long-leafed yellow grass.

  Wynn and Leanâlhâm knelt at the center before two adolescent elven males, bare to the waist… or were they elves?

  They were shorter than even Wynn, if she were standing. Their bodies and faces were marked with strange symbols in blue-black ink or paint.

  They had the pointed ears, triangular faces, and amber eyes of elves but wore no shirts or boots—only loose breeches of rough natural fabric frayed off below the knees. Their wooden spears with blackened and sharpened ends were pointed at the women on the ground. One had an ivy vine wreath around his neck, and he stared at Wynn in horror. When he lifted his gaze to Magiere entering the clearing, his reaction grew to trembling outrage.

  Sgäile froze at the clearing's edge. He raised a quick hand for his own comrades to halt. When Magiere didn't stop, he grabbed her by the arm. She turned on him, but he shook his head.

  "Please stay," Osha whispered behind Leesil.

  And more of these short elves appeared from behind all the trees around the clearing.

  Some carried bows with arrows drawn. Like the spears, these ended in sharpened points without heads. A few carried cudgels of polished wood shaped as if made from gnarled tree roots. Most had wild hair pleated back or bound with cords of twisted wild grass.

  Chap burst from the brush at the clearing's far right.

  Two of the small newcomers leaped out of his path. One more ran up the side of a tree trunk and clung to its lower branches. None appeared worried by the dog's snarling, only startled as they watched him.

  Chap worked his way toward Wynn, still rumbling with teeth exposed.

  Urhkar stepped forward with both hands open and empty at his sides. He crossed the space slowly and placed himself before Wynn and Leanâlhâm. The first savage short one stepped back, and the second lifted his spear.

  Sgäile barked one word of Elvish, and Chap stopped growling.

  One of the pair facing Urhkar snapped something at him, nearly shouting, and Wynn cringed back, pulling at Leanâlhâm. The girl looked as frightened as the sage, but her eyes turned toward her uncle in confusion, as if she had no idea what was happening.

  "Sgäile…" Leesil whispered harshly, "do something, damn you." Sgäile's eyes never left the scene before him. He rapidly placed a finger to his lips and that was all.

  Leesil's frustration vanished in dull surprise—Sgäile was afraid.

  Sgäile had too many people to protect, a mission to complete, and now Wynn had made things even worse. He could not allow violence to break out here but hesitated to speak.

  Although Sgäile had authority over this mission, Urhkarasiférin was clearly the eldest among them. Such distinction was all that these people—the old race of this land—would respect as authority. Sgäile let him take the lead.

  Then Chap glanced his way.

  A memory of grief-enraged Én'nish rose suddenly in Sgäile's mind. He did not know why this came to him now, and he pushed it aside.

  One of the diminutive pair before Urhkarasiférin was called Rujh. Sgäile had seen him before as a messenger sent to the an'Cróan by the man's own people—the Äruin'nas. They had been in this land long before Sgäile's people, or so it was said.

  Rujh spat an accusation at Urhkarasiférin. "You break faith with the trees!"

  The elder elf shook his head with steady calm. "No. We are in guardianship of these humans and act on behalf of Most Aged Father."

  His words had no impact on Rujh. "Your aged leader has no right to such a choice. We do not answer to him or your kind. The forest's own law is above his wishes—and yours."

  "We escort these humans to him for questioning," Urhkarasiférin explained. "We must know how they entered this land… before others follow in their path."

  "The forest h
as its way to deal with such!" Rujh nearly shouted. "It has no need of your assistance. You defile it with no remorse, and it is offensive enough that we now find mixed-bloods walking here."

  He gestured to Leanâlhâm and then to Léshil. Sgäile crept slowly inward, blocking Leanâlhâm from Rujh's sight.

  "They have the blood in them," Sgäile insisted. "And the forest has not seen fit to reject them."

  Rujh turned his head toward Sgäile, and frustrated reluctance filled his angry face.

  "We accept those who have blood that should not be spilled, but the other two…" He pointed to Wynn and then Magiere. "If you will not kill them, then we will do it."

  "Do not attempt to violate guardianship," Urhkarasiférin warned.

  Rujh tilted his spear slightly toward Urhkarasiférin, but the elder elf did not move or flinch.

  Sgäiles stomach began to tighten. No doubt Urhkarasiférin and Osha would follow his orders if violence broke out, but it was the last thing he wanted. They could escape Rujh's numbers, but getting Léshil and his companions out would be a harder fight.

  Én'nish's face flashed again in Sgäile's thoughts. He pushed the image away. Why did he keep thinking of her? Then came a memory of Rujh appearing out of the forest at Crijheâiche.

  It startled Sgäile. He could not clearly remember which occasion this memory came from or why he thought of it now. But it made him study the short man.

  Rujh had spotted Léshil too quickly as half-blooded. Had he known before Léshil appeared?

  A flash of Én'nish came again. It flickered in and out with the memory of Rujh appearing from the forest. Sgäile felt dizzy, and then he realized…

  There were too many Äruin'nas here at once. Not a hunting party or even an envoy to one of the elven clans. They lived to the northwest, where the forest thickened against the range. How had Rujh known to come here?

  Someone had sought out the Äruin'nas, or sent word to them.

  Én'nish's blind anguish and hunger for vengeance went further than Sgäile had thought possible. Perhaps Urhkarasiférin should not have dismissed her from his tutelage but kept her close and watched.