by Wendy Mass
Two elves stood before them, towels draped over their shoulders. Gabriel thought they looked like regular Earthly teenagers back from a day at the beach except for a few very distinct differences. Their ears were indeed pointy—not like Spock on Star Trek pointy, but the tops definitely weren’t round. And second, these two would have been on the covers of magazines back home. Or been, like, pop stars. Pimple-free green(ish) skin, long flowing black hair, bright gold eyes. He couldn’t help gaping at them and didn’t think he could have spoken to save his life.
Dash cleared his throat, doing an only slightly better job of not staring. If the elves didn’t have those spears, they wouldn’t look very scary at all. “Um, I’m Dash, and this is Piper, Siena, and the one with his mouth hanging open is Gabriel. We have come to speak with the horn guards.”
“We are the horn guards,” the male replied, turning his head briefly to glare at Gabriel, who was too busy staring at the female elf to notice. “I am Tumar, and this is my cousin Lythe. Why have you come here?”
“Chris sent us,” Dash said. “You know, alien guy, brown hair, kind of serious all the time?”
“And very handsome,” Piper added.
Dash raised an eyebrow at her. She smiled and shrugged. Siena giggled.
“We know of no one by that name,” Tumar claimed.
Dash pointed at the tree again. “His picture’s right there. With all the colorful flowers around it?”
The elves glanced at the tree. “Oh!” Lythe said, her face lighting up. “You mean Chrysanthemum?”
“Chrysanthemum?” Piper repeated. “Like the flower?”
The elves nodded. “That was his name,” Lythe said. “There’s a famous song about him.”
“I’d like to hear that sometime,” Piper said, a mischievous gleam in her eye.
Dash had to force aside how easy it would be to tease Chris about this name when they returned to the ship. “Well,” he said, “we just know him as Chris. And he said you were aware that one day he would return to sound the horn and awaken the ogres.” Dash paused and tried to sound as commanding as possible when he said, “That day has come.”
The elves’ faces darkened, and their hands tightened around their spears. Dash quickly added, “It would only be temporary, like for one day, and then we’d sound the horn again and put them back to sleep forever.”
Siena made a slight sound of dissent, which Dash covered up by pretending to cough.
“Why would we do this?” Lythe asked. Gabriel thought her voice sounded like the wind chimes on his grandmother’s front porch. He loved those wind chimes.
When Dash explained how Earth was almost out of power and they needed this last ingredient to save their world, Tumar laughed. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, more a disbelieving one. “You come here on Feast Day, want us to end a hundred years of peace, then let a dragon burn down one of our trees? That is an absurd request.”
Unable to deny that it really did sound crazy, Dash said, “Guess our timing isn’t great, but we wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t so important. Like I said, our whole planet is in danger. Just a bit of dragon cinder is all we’re asking.”
Tumar and Lythe exchanged a look, and then a nod. Dash breathed a sigh of relief. They were over the first hurdle. But the elves didn’t move toward the tree. Dash glanced up. The suns were quickly moving across the sky. They needed to get the ogres on the move before dark. “I’m sorry to have to rush this,” he said, “and you two seem like really lovely people—I mean, elves—and we’d love to hang out and get to know each other better, but we’re really pressed for time. Can you bring us to the horn now?”
When they still didn’t move, it became evident they were never going to. Guess that nod was an agreement not to help them. Piper swiveled her chair to face them directly. “You may not like it now, but you did make a deal with Chris. You were to awaken the ogres one last time, and in return, he would take the horn far from here so you’d never have to worry about them again. You wouldn’t have had that century of peace without him. You owe him this.”
“Lythe and I made no such deal with anyone,” Tumar said.
Lythe leaned closer to her cousin. “But maybe our grandparents did?”
“Maybe they did?” Dash repeated. “Isn’t that why you’re guarding the horn? Because someday you knew we’d be back?”
“We guard it because our family has always guarded it,” Lythe explained.
Dash was beginning to get an uneasy feeling. Had Chris lied to them about having a deal? Or did the elves truly not know of the agreement?
Tumar stomped his foot. “If our grandparents made that deal, then they were desperate and would say anything to get the ogres to leave us alone. Their generation had never known peace before Chrysanthemum arrived. But we have. We are not willing to give it up for some deal made a hundred years ago, if it was made at all.”
“That’s not good sportsmanship!” Piper told the elves, crossing her arms. Siena eyed the fallen branches nearby. One of them would definitely make a serviceable sword. She was pretty sure she could take ’em both in a fight if she had to.
Dash turned to Gabriel. “Any ideas here? You seem to be the expert on elves.”
Gabriel forced himself to turn away from Lythe to focus on Dash. Then he grinned and began to whistle. It took a second before the others realized why. Being met with spears had made them forget the customary greeting! It was too late to approach them backward, but they could still whistle. Dash joined in, followed by the girls.
It was not a pretty sound. The elves’ eyes widened, and they winced. “What are you doing?” Lythe asked, putting her hands over her ears.
They stopped, except for Gabriel, who was clearly enjoying himself. He may not be as good as Ravi, but he could carry a decent tune. He whistled a few more bars of “Amazing Grace,” and then bowed deeply. Siena clapped.
Lythe’s face softened a bit, and she lowered her spear. Tumar hesitated, then did the same. “Look, this isn’t easy for us,” he said. “We’d help if we could.”
“Then take us to your leader,” Dash said, cringing again. That was almost as bad as we come in peace!
“I assure you, King Urelio will tell you the same thing,” Tumar said.
Lythe motioned her cousin over and said something else in their elfin language. “I will bring the king here instead,” Tumar announced. “He is still at the sea and would not want a stranger at the ceremony.”
“Fine,” Dash said. Tumar gave Lythe instructions on guarding them and then darted off so quickly he looked like a greenish blur.
They stood around awkwardly. Gabriel began peppering Lythe with questions. How old was she? What was life like in their village? What did elves do for fun? Dash was about to tell him to give her a break, but realized Gabriel was doing an excellent job of distracting her. Piper saw it too. The two of them inched closer together until Piper was close enough to whisper into Dash’s ear. “The horn is halfway up the tree, directly over Chris’s head. I mean, over the drawing of Chris’s head.”
Dash pretended to stretch, and looked up. He could spot the glint of the white horn between the leaves. He whispered back out of the corner of his mouth. “If the king comes and refuses to honor the deal, we’ll be escorted out of here. This might be our only chance.”
Piper nodded grimly.
“Did I ever mention I was a pitcher for my second-grade peewee baseball team?” Dash said.
She shook her head.
“Yup. My fastball clocked in at around twenty miles per hour.”
“That doesn’t sound very fast,” she said.
“I was seven. What I lacked in speed I made up for in accuracy.” He squinted up at the window. “I think I can make it.”
Siena followed their gaze and quickly figured out what they were talking about. Her mouth formed a tight line, but she gave them a begrudging nod of approval. Then she walked over to Lythe and started talking hair care. Yes, hair care. Dash had never heard Siena say anything r
emotely girly before, and now she was comparing the difficulties of maintaining the shine and fullness of her long, dark hair in this humid environment and did Lythe have any tips on how she kept hers so smooth? Clearly flattered, the elf girl was only too happy to explain how she applied the perfect mixture of seaweed, pollen, and morning dew. Gabriel seemed fascinated by the conversation.
As they talked, Dash bent down and pretended to tie his boot while his eyes scanned the ground for the perfect stone. Most of them were too large, and he was afraid he wouldn’t get it high enough if it was too heavy. He would only have one chance.
He spotted a stone near Gabriel’s foot that looked good. He inched over, pretending to be interested in their conversation. This proved painful, as the girls were now talking skin care. Lythe had pulled a leaf off a nearby tree and was showing Siena the thin film of liquid you get when you scrape the underside with your fingernail. “It makes an excellent moisturizer,” she said in her singsong voice. “See?” the elf girl began rubbing the leaf on the back of Siena’s hand.
“Ooh, soft,” Siena said.
“Look at that cool bug!” Dash exclaimed, crouching down and yanking Gabriel down with him.
“Go on the other side of Lythe so she has to turn around to face you,” Dash hissed as he palmed the stone. “I need ten seconds.” He pulled Gabriel back to his feet before he could ask any questions. Gabriel did as he was told, and Lythe turned her body away from the Horn Tree. Dash stepped back, and Piper positioned herself between him and the others.
Knowing he couldn’t afford to hesitate, Dash raised his arm and threw the stone at the tiny sliver of the horn that he could see. He heard the leaves rustle as it sailed through the branches. The rock hit the horn squarely, and Dash held his breath as it teetered before finally tipping completely over and falling straight out of the opening in the tree.
Dash paused for just a second before racing to stand under the falling horn. It was larger than he’d imagined, and he had to catch it cradle-style when it almost reached the ground. The horn was so heavy, it knocked Dash on his back when he caught it.
Lythe stopped midsentence, hearing the noise behind her. She stopped to turn, and just when Dash thought he was caught, Gabriel caught Lythe’s hand. With a terrified look on his face, Gabriel pulled the elf close and, just like he’d seen in the movies, tipped Lythe back and tried to deliver the most romantic line he’d ever heard. Instead, he said, “Live long and prosper.”
Dash gaped at Gabriel and Lythe for a moment before Piper whisper-shouted, “Do it!” Returning to the task at hand, Dash rushed to stand up. He lifted the great horn to his mouth. He took a deep breath and blew into the mouthpiece of the horn as hard he could and…
Nothing happened.
Dash lowered the horn to inspect it. Maybe there was something clogging it?
Lythe suddenly shoved Gabriel away and turned to Dash. “No!” she shouted.
“Guess you’re not a Star Trek fan…,” Gabriel said, blushing.
Lythe advanced toward Dash and tried to snatch the horn out of his arms. Piper flew between them, blocking Lythe’s reach.
“Why did you do that?” Lythe cried.
“I didn’t do anything,” Dash insisted.
“You sounded the horn!”
Dash, Piper, and Siena exchanged puzzled glances. How did she know? They hadn’t heard anything.
“Maybe the sound resonates on some higher frequency,” Piper suggested. “Like it’s so high-pitched only dogs can hear it. Dogs and ogres, that is.”
Lythe threw her head back and howled.
Piper slid down in her chair. “Um, we might want to run.”
Ten miles to the east, in a deep, dark, moldy cave, one hundred ogres yawned, stretched, and sat up. In single file, they staggered out onto the rocky shores of the Dargon coast, squinting and bumping into each other. They grunted as they saw each other’s extra-long nose hair, felt their stiff bones, and realized something was very, very wrong.
On the beach now, the ogres grunted and yanked at their nose hair until it tore right out. They threw it on the sand in disgust and took long, deep breaths through their tunnel-like nostrils. They spread out on the shore and sniffed in all directions. The scents that filled their noses were familiar—the sea air, the fresh soil of the nearby woods, the sickly-sweet smell of the elves, the overripe-cheese aroma of giants, and something…new. They sniffed harder, turning this way and that, trying to identify this new scent on the wind. It did not pose a threat, they could tell that, but the ogres liked to be in charge of their environment at all times.
They sniffed until one of the ogres turned to face the northern mountain peaks and the others followed. At once, their lips spread wide, revealing rows of broken yellow teeth. This was the closest the ogres came to smiling. The new scent forgotten, they filled their lungs with the ashy, sharp, smoky smell of fire. Their favorite smell of all. The smell of dragons.
The ogres were hungry. They were angry. Somehow the elves had trapped them in that cave for a long, long time. It was time to get the dragons and seek revenge.
—
On board the Cloud Leopard, Ravi and Niko were just returning from leaving the tank on the planet. They were following a long list that Chris had given them on how to prepare the ship to handle the Source. The power surge would be so enormous, Chris was worried it would fry the electronic components on the ship. He had all available hands—human and ZRK—reinforcing the weak links with a special surge protector he’d cobbled together. Chris himself was spending all his time down in the Cloud Kitten.
Ravi checked his MTB for the time. By now, the elves should have sounded the horn and awakened the ogres. The ground crew was no doubt working with the elves to help steer the ogres away from the Elfin Forest.
—
What was actually happening on the planet below was a little different. Gabriel, Dash, and Siena were standing inside the Horn Tree, about halfway up. Piper hovered outside the window, since the stairs inside were too narrow for her to navigate. If they weren’t flanked on both sides by elves with spears, Gabriel would totally enjoy what was hands down the coolest tree house he had ever been in. Oil lanterns glowing red, then yellow, then blue, lit their way up a winding wooden staircase, where every stair had been stained a different color. Circular beds hung from vines, and zip lines zigzagged all the way from the top to the floor. Gabriel itched to try them.
The leader of the elves—a robed man with a silver beard who looked exactly how Gabriel thought a king of the elves should look—was currently screaming at Dash for having the nerve, the gall, the sheer hubris to sound the horn without permission.
Gabriel was indeed using his skills of charm and sincerity, and he was hoping these traits would help them now. While Dash bore the brunt of the king’s fury, Gabriel was doing his best to convince Lythe to keep the leader from re-sounding the horn. “Please tell them how important this is,” he begged her in as loud a whisper as he dared. “They wouldn’t have made you the horn guard if they didn’t trust your judgment.”
Lythe scoffed. “Look where my judgment got me!” she whispered back. “I’m the last person they’ll listen to now.”
“I don’t think so,” he insisted. “Guarding the horn is in your blood. Yours and Tumar’s. They have to listen to you.”
Lythe let his words play in her head. She had to admit this alien—the first she’d ever met—was growing on her. She liked the dark-haired girl too. She was a good listener. Usually no one asked her for tips on anything. Even though the boy with the messy hair had gone behind her back to sound the horn, for some reason she wanted to trust them. She could tell they weren’t lying about the agreement—somehow she just knew they were telling the truth. This boy who called himself Gabriel was right—the legend of the horn was in her blood.
She squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t see his pleading gaze. She just wished she had some proof! A few seconds later, her eyes flew open. She did have proof! She glanced
at Tumar. Had he started to believe them too? She didn’t have time to find out.
“Please, my lord,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “As one of those entrusted with the job of guarding the horn, I ask that you hear my words.”
The king turned to her. An expression of annoyance flitted across his green face. She looked to the boy Gabriel for support. He gave her a nod, and his eyes were warm. She took a breath. “I believe these strangers are telling the truth. The tree itself tells the story.”
“What do you mean by those words?” the king asked.
She took another breath. “Outside, sir. The old paintings. They have been covered by branches and vines for many years. There is a painting of the horn being lifted onto a ship. A ship that flies! One just like the one we saw in the sky only this morning. This must mean that their story is true. We must help them, and then they will help us one final time and take the horn far away forever.”
The king lowered his spear. The tips of his pointy ears twitched. He looked at Lythe for what felt like an eternity before slowly nodding. “If this proves true,” the king said, “you shall have your one day. I will place guards at the four corners of the Elfin Forest to protect our sacred trees from the ogres, but if we cannot keep them away, I will sound that horn.”
Dash wanted to remind him that part of the deal would require the elves to lose at least one sacred tree, but decided it would be wiser to hold that back for now and let the king focus on the ogre problem. So he simply said, “Thank you, sir. One day is all we ask.” He didn’t add that one day was all he had.
“And I demand to see Chrysanthemum for myself,” the king added. “I will need to verify you are acting under his orders.”
Dash was about to tell him that was impossible due to the signal being blocked by the sound waves of the horn, when he realized that wasn’t true anymore. He turned over his wrist and typed in a few numbers, hoping Chris was wearing his own MTB. He noticed the elves were tightening their holds on their spears.