by E A Comiskey
"My people are Hala and Jax. I've not lived with the Fae in two centuries. I am sorry for your loss."
Zoe's attention moved to Hala. "My people are sad today, but calm. Has that to do with your presence, demon?"
"In part. Freyja's Gifts are stronger than mine," he answered.
She stared into his fiery green eyes for a long moment. "No. I don't think they are. If you brought a measure of peace to this place, I thank you."
"You have a Gift with animals?" she asked me.
"No," I said. "Wolf needed me."
"Stay here as long as you need," she said, looking at Hala once more. "The Compound has long been a refuge for weary travelers and those who seek refuge, but please understand my people are hurting. We have lost a great deal."
Hala gave a slight bow, and she turned away without another word to us. Her stride was long and fast. A weapon bounced on her slim hip, looking absurdly huge.
"She's just a little girl," I said.
"Not anymore," Freyja said. She showed us where we could pitch our tents, wash up, and get food, and then sat with us near the warmth of the fire. Others came for food and sat on the other side of the blaze. No one came too close, but none of them made any sort of threat toward us.
"Tell us what happened," Hala said. "What provoked the Fae to attack?"
Freyja shifted so the four of us were in a haphazard circle, perched on wide cut logs that would be used to keep the fire burning through the night. "You have to understand the past to know what happened here. Faerie, the true Faerie, the original place, was not part of earth, but one of the Realms."
"That place is a legend, like Olympus," Risa said. "It's part of a child's tale."
"Stories hold the seeds of our origins. It is a mistake to dismiss them," Freyja said. "It is why The Storykeepers work so tirelessly to preserve them. A good book is not just entertainment. It is a glimpse into the collective consciousness of a society at any given time. Did you know that The Storykeepers have travelers now? It's fantastic. They carry books for trade, but letters and packages as well. It's almost as though the old postal service has been restored. Well, not yet, but it will get there. I'm certain of it."
"Focus, Freyja. What about Faerie?" Hala asked.
"Well, Faerie was one of the Realms. More solid than some, but still ethereal. It was a place of crystal and light. And then the Fae became aware of Earth. They tried to bring Earth into Faerie and created… well… it was…" She held her hands out in a helpless gesture. "It didn't work out."
"Faerie became incompatible for all except those who would reject matter forever," Risa said. "The rest escaped the jungle of madness, choosing to be earthbound."
Freyja nodded. "Earthbound and tied inexorably to nature. The Fae--from the tiniest winged beings to the human-hybrid orcs--became guardians of the forests, the mountains, the water. The history of the Fae is not so different from the history of the demons."
"Except the demons could still return to the Realms."
Freyja nodded. "Precisely, but the Fae could not. They were creatures of the Realms, making their home on Earth. And that was fine. For the most part, they were content with what was, but the human population began to grow. Cities sprang up across Europe, and the Fae retreated to the most rural possible locations. They interacted with humans, bred with them, changed and evolved, but it was a slow process. They clung to the old ways, and they thrived best in nature."
"Until humans destroyed nature," Risa said.
"Yes," Freyja agreed. "Human population reached a point where nature was compromised. The planet struggled under the burden of such an immense population. That was the age when Acedia sought to destroy all creation by provoking the wrath of The Creator."
I couldn't help but interrupt. "That's all interesting, but what does it have to do with what happened here, today?"
"Humans have short memories," she replied, "but the Fae do not. They have not forgotten what it was to suffer the death of the spirit. Their spirit was tied to the earth as it was slowly strangled beneath human rule."
"You make it sound as though the Fae were on Acedia's side. That's not true. Most of those who were involved stood with the humans," Risa said.
"Because they loved creation, not because of any great affection for humans. After the Great Battle, the Fae watched humanity die off and nearly become extinct over the next generation. They did nothing to intervene."
"So that's what the Fae wanted?" I asked. "To live on a planet where nature had free reign and humans were not part of that natural order?"
"The Fae never wished for the extinction of the human race," Risa said, a deep frown etched upon her brow. "We are not so cruel."
"I agree," Freyja said. "I don't think the Fae wished for that, or did anything to bring it on, but when it happened, the earth was healed and your people thrived.”
A group of children ran by, chasing a green and pink flashing drone operated by a boy on the other side of the fire. The key piece of the puzzle snapped into place in my mind.
"This place is a center of technology. These people have the knowledge to restore humanity to where it was and more," I said.
Freyja leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "So far beyond what existed before. It is hard to describe. The Great Population understood earthbound physics, and manipulated this planet with astonishing success. The researchers in this place have come to understand the will of matter. Led by the women who descended from those who survived Acedia's assault, they have created a society in which wisdom has been nurtured at the side of knowledge. Many people here are like those with great Gifts, though they have an almost completely human bloodline."
Hala scoffed. "You exaggerate, Freyja. We have traded with these people. They have built wonderful things, but they’re not gods."
"With wisdom comes the understanding that not everything that can be built, or has been built, should be shared freely with any person willing to pay a price to obtain it. These people have become the guardians of technology that could open the entire universe to humanity. All of the universes."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "That's why you're here, isn't it? Goddess, protector of warriors and mothers. Where else would you find yourself but in a city of women, bound to be attacked?"
"If they have such great technology, why did they not fight back?" I asked.
"If they'd not fought back, this place would be dust in the wind." Freyja sighed. "The Fae who attacked this place will never war again."
"How many did they kill?" Risa asked, her face taking on the same mask-like countenance I'd seen before when her emotions were in turmoil.
"Dozens," Freyja said.
"It is truly war, then," Hala said, leaning forward, dropping his face into his hands.
"It is."
"Can’t we can find a way to stop it?" I asked. An image of the earth, soaked in blood, filled my mind, and tears burned my eyes.
"I pray you can, Jax," Freyja said.
"But with the humans, there is always war," Hala said.
Freyja nodded. "It seems that way."
~*~
Hala shook me awake. "We need to go, Jax. Right now." He could have been my father, for the urgency written across his features. I'd been woken like this before. In a moment my boots were on and Wolf was in his sling. I moved as fast as I could to help Hala tear down the tent and strap the roll to my pack. Risa stood nearby, trembling, tears running down her cheeks.
The camp was deserted. In the village, fire flickered in the night. Now was not the time for questions.
Freyja materialized from the darkness, her arms full of provisions. "I'm sorry." She offered no explanation or further words.
Hala took the items and handed them to Risa. He grasped her face between his hands and leaned in close. From where I stood, I could see her eyes, locked on his, but I had no way to know what he said.
Freyja's hand was light on my arm. "I think you're right, Jax. I think war can be stopped, but you'll have t
o be so very strong to make that happen. Stronger, even, than my friend, Simone. She created a pause in man’s endless battles. No more than that."
"I can force them to bend to my will."
The goddess nodded. "I guessed at that, but taking away free will…" Her eyes roamed the land around us, as though she'd find the words there. "Free will is The Creator's greatest Gift to all of creation. Do what you must, but act with wisdom." She glanced over her shoulder. "You should go now, before they have time to imagine connections between Risa's presence here and what has happened tonight."
Hala was at my side. "Time to disappear, kid."
And like that, The Compound was behind us, and we were racing southward through the night.
When the sun peeked over the eastern horizon, our pace slowed. My legs burned and my lungs screamed for oxygen, but we did not stop. The smell of smoke still clung to my clothes and hair. We followed Hala as he broke a trail through thickening greenery. If the others spoke, I was unaware.
Freyja's voice echoed in my head. Act with wisdom.
How could I know what that meant?
I followed Hala's path, but came upon no answers.
~*~
Risa stumbled, falling against Hala's back. He stopped and turned. "We should keep going," he said.
I couldn't see her face, but her shoulders were slumped. She shook her head. Sometimes words weren't necessary.
He glanced up at me. No doubt I was a mess. Sweat poured down my face now that the sun was high above us. My breath came in short gasps.
"Alright," he agreed. "We'll rest here for a while, but we can't stay. We need to put as much distance between The Compound and ourselves as we can."
We sat with our backs against the rough bark of the trees. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to get up again. It had been a very long time since I'd pushed my body so hard. "What happened?" I asked. Finally, there was time for understanding.
Hala pushed his hair away from his face and wound a tie around it to hold it at the back of his head. His eyes reflected the intense green that surrounded us. "The Fae must have planted something in The Compound before they left. There were explosions in the night. No one was killed, so far as I know. They were all in the camp, but the explosions happened in their main laboratories, in their storage facilities, and in the shops where new technology was built. Their most valuable assets were destroyed."
I remembered the identical long, low buildings. "How could they have known?"
"Someone told them," Risa said. "Someone that had been trusted."
"And they thought it was you?" I frowned. "It's not possible. You didn't know. We'd only been there for a few hours."
"They’re looking for someone to blame," she said.
I watched Wolf snapping at a bug in the leaves, trying to chase it, despite his bandaged leg. We'd run before they could accuse us of anything. "We should have given them a chance. We could have helped. They might have trusted you. Freyja trusted you. She could have convinced them."
Risa looked away.
"Do you really believe that? Do you think they would have given us a fair chance?" Hala asked.
No. I didn't believe it for a moment. I let his question dissipate into the air before asking, "Where are we going? Do you think they'll follow us?"
He handed me an apple and gave one to Risa. "We have to go south to get around the Great Swamp. We'll be in Amish territory. They won't follow us. They've more important things to do with their limited manpower than chase strangers into the wilderness."
"Who are the Amish?"
Risa rolled her eyes. "Religious fools."
Hala raised an eyebrow. "You think?"
"They cling to faith that should have died when the veils were lifted."
He turned to me. "I'll say nothing. You can decide for yourself what you think. You'll believe them the most foolish people you've ever seen, or the wisest. We can expect little help from them, but no harm, either. They are pacifist to the extreme."
"Pacifist?" I asked.
"Like you," he said. "They'd rather carry the weight of a half-dead dog than be the one to kill it in the name of mercy."
My cheeks burned under his teasing.
Chuckling, Hala pulled the strings on his pack tight and pushed himself to his feet. "Come on, lovely ladies. Time to move on."
"You said they wouldn't chase us," I pointed out.
He cocked his head to one side. "I've been wrong before." He offered a hand to me and then to Risa, who rose to her feet and shouldered her pack without speaking another word.
Ten
The edge of the Great Swamp provided every good thing. Water was plentiful. Game practically walked into our hands. Berries and edible greens grew in every nook and cranny. Unfortunately, the insects thrived as well as everything else. Covered in itchy welts, I tossed and turned at night in my little tent. The pup curled next to me, seemingly unbothered by the pests.
Risa grew more sullen and grouchy with each passing day. It was hard to see their conversations while we walked, but I caught enough to understand what was happening. She didn't understand why we'd ever left the comfort of home, why we couldn't have ridden horses, or even used a transport. She wanted to know how long we would wander, where Hala intended to settle, what life would be like in the new place.
I had all the same thoughts, but said nothing.
If Hala said we were to walk, if he said he was being led by a greater power than I understood, I would follow him. So it was that day after day I plodded along through the tall, thick, grass and scratching, forested areas. I carried Wolf in a wide band of cloth around my chest. He seemed content enough, and whenever we stopped he would stumble about, his leg held out at an awkward angle.
Hala never said a word about him, not even to complain when I took the time to share our food with the animal.
Sitting around a smoky fire that helped to drive the dreaded insects away but burned my eyes and lungs, Risa asked Hala a new question that frightened me as none of the others had.
"If my people are at war when we arrive, what will we do?"
He took a bite of meat and stared into the fire. "We will find a way to keep the peace. If they are killing one another, I will have no part in it."
Risa curled into herself, hiding her expression by burying her face in her knees.
~*~
The quality of light changed. The way the air smelled was different, less primal. We walked on and emerged from the vine-hung forest into a field of wheat. On the east side, a thin row of pine separated it from another field; corn growing there. To the south and the west, wide, smooth, dirt roads cut grooves between the wheat field, a bean field, and a tomato field. The plants grew in perfect, straight rows, dizzying to the eye.
"These are Amish fields," Hala said to me.
We made our way to the road and walked with gravel crunching beneath our feet. Deep drainage ditches separated the fields from the roads. The grass that grew there was neatly trimmed. It was as though Mother Nature’s housekeeper had come along and tidied up the land here, shutting out the wilderness and putting a neat order to everything. Even the dust from the road stayed in its place under a thin sheen of oil that glistened in the sun.
We continued south past the wheat, the beans, a cattle paddock, and a large flock of sheep that looked thin and awkward with their wool shorn down to mere fuzz.
Three men stood near an enormous red barn a hundred yards off the road. They watched us pass, their faces shadowed by the wide brims of their black hats.
The Amish village was larger than The Compound; a little town of log cabins painted white with chimneys that puffed out smoke, even in the warmth of mid-day. As we came closer, a wagon pulled by two slow-moving oxen came into view. Two more men, dressed identically to those we'd already seen, rode on a bench-seat at the front of the wagon. The one with the reins gave them a tug, and the animals came to a stop.
Hala bowed his head. "Good afternoon."
The man
nodded, the motion causing the sun to glint of the copper highlights in his thick brown beard. "And to you." Now that they were close, I could see the other passenger was just a boy, beardless and wide-eyed. His resemblance to the older man was striking.
"We're traveling through, heading to New Faerie. Perhaps you'd like to trade?" Hala asked.
"Perhaps," the man said. "But I'm not the one to talk to. Head into the village, there. The blacksmith will be working right across from the schoolhouse. He's our bishop. He'll be the one you'll be wanting to talk to about trade."
Hala bowed once more. "Thank you, sir." He took a step, stopped, and looked back up at the man. "I'm sorry to bother you when you're obviously in the middle of a busy workday, but we've heard rumors. The Fae are at war? Could you tell us if that's true?"
The man's eyes darted to Risa, to me, and back to Hala once more. The boy stared at her, his mouth pressed shut in a tight line. "We've no war with the Fae or anyone else, and little to do with rumors. Bishop Yoder will be taking a break for lunch soon. It's a good time to catch him."
It was the most polite dismissal I'd ever witnessed.
We continued on the road, past the first houses where women in pastel-colored dresses that reached well past their knees and flawless white, starched aprons hung clothes on lines. Chubby pink-cheeked toddlers padded around their yards on bare feet. Every eye glanced up at us, every head nodded in greeting, but so far as I could see, not a single person said a word to us.
At the end of the town's main street was the tallest building. A brass bell gleamed in a tower and a cross was hung high on the wall, centered between two doors.
"They use it as a school for five days, have a day of work, and then come here for worship on Sunday morning. Males and females use different doors and don't socialize in public," Risa told me.
I pointed at a strange structure of wood and rope in the small yard next to the building.