by Kara Jaynes
Eldaren eyes me sternly. “That doesn’t give you the right to hurt them,” he says. “Animals have the right to life and happiness, same as humans.”
“But you guys eat . . .” My voice trails off, as I think. “Wait. Are you a vegan?”
“I am not familiar with that word.”
“Do you eat meat?” I ask.
Eldaren shrugs a single shoulder. “We try not to,” he says. “As elves, we believe that animals should have the privilege to life and—”
“Ugh,” I say, putting out a hand. “You are a vegan.”
“I am not,” he says, a touch belligerent. “Just because I eat only grains and other plants, doesn’t mean I’m a—whatever that word is. It sounds bad.”
“You have fangs,” I growl. “Those are for meat, you pretentious—”
Eldaren scowls, and I don’t finish my sentence. “Well, I eat meat,” I say instead, feeling defensive.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Eldaren replies. “We don’t condemn humans who eat meat to survive, or even those who eat it for pleasure—as long as it’s not in excess—but I think you are discovering you do just fine without it here at the base. Besides, it’s better for the Earth’s struggling environment.”
I nod slowly. Now that I think about it, the food I’d been served has been mostly grains and vegetables; soups, bread. But . . . “I was sure I’d eaten meat here,” I say.
“We have very skilled cooks,” Eldaren says airily. “But we’re getting off track from our original topic. Are you happy, Stella? Were you happy when you were with—” Eldaren cuts off with an exasperated huff. “My apologies. According to human custom, I do not know you well enough yet to ask such personal questions.”
“No, it’s all right,” I say, but my heart clenches, sadness engulfing me like a suffocating embrace. Yes, I had been full to the brim with joy during those brief, blissful months of courtship. Wilder was perfection. The time I spent with him was the literal highlight of my life.
And with that, I remember my anger with Eldaren. Hurting Wilder the way he did. “I was happy,” I say belligerently, my chin jutting out. “I miss Wilder very much.”
I regret the words as soon as I say them. The elven prince doesn’t respond. His expression doesn’t change, but he’s very quiet, and his shoulders are hunched.
Heaving a sigh, I stand and pat him on the shoulder. “Sorry. I’m just angry.”
“About what, Stella, mi—” he presses his lips shut, his brow lowering. He looks away.
Stella, mine.
“I’m upset that you were conducting experiments on humans,” I say. “We’re not animals, yet you treat us like we are.”
“Do I treat you like an animal?”
“No, not me,” I admit, “but we’re not lab rats. You shouldn’t try to test on us without our consent.”
“The dream vagrants can’t give their consent to undergo testing.”
“Yes, exactly,” I say. “You shouldn’t have done it. Now you have freaks running around town, my boyfriend, included—”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Eldaren growls.
“Whatever. The point of the matter is, you were wrong.”
“You’re right, to a point,” Eldaren replies. “But as I’ve mentioned to you before, we were trying to heal the dream vagrants. That’s different from the testing I believe you’re referring to. And the spell that went wrong? You’re right. That shouldn’t have happened. But what is done, is done.”
“He’s still out there,” I breathe. “And he’s lonely and scared.”
“How do you know that?” Eldaren’s voice is low, and he’s watching me with narrowed eyes.
Oops. “I merely assume,” I say loftily. “Unless you’ve killed him already.”
Eldaren flinches, and now I’m the one squinting, suspicion stirring in my gut.
“No, I have not,” he says coldly. “And I won’t, so long as I don’t see him.”
I bite my lip, wondering how far I should push this, and whether or not it’s a good time to argue. Eldaren had seemed almost relaxed earlier, but now he is a coiled spring of nerves.
The prince doesn’t give me a chance to continue. “Stella,” he says. “What is something you’ve never done but always wished you could?”
My anger and confusion fade a little as I ponder his question. “Well,” I say slowly, “there are lots of things I’d like to do, someday.”
“Such as?”
I eye him sideways. “I’m not sure how to answer this question. Do you mean possible things, or should I include the impossible?”
Eldaren studies me, tilting his head slightly. “What do you think is impossible?”
I shrug and look away, feeling foolish. “I wish I could fly,” I say. “Those are my favorite sort of dreams. The kind where the laws of gravity don’t apply to me.”
“Ah.” Eldaren nods once. “Yes, that is quite impossible for you—”
“You asked,” I break in, feeling a flicker of annoyance.
“You interrupt an awful lot,” Eldaren says.
“So do you.”
“I am elven royalty,” he counters in a lofty voice, placing splayed fingers on his chest. “It’s not the same when I do it. And to get back on topic, flying is something that is impossible for you to do alone. But with my help—” A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “—it would be possible.”
I stare at him, feeling a trickle of fear running up my spine. “Do you mean your space ships?”
“What? No.” Eldaren wrinkles his nose, and the expression looks so foreign on him that I laugh. “I don’t currently have any plans to take you from this planet,” Eldaren continues. “Why are you laughing?”
“Nothing,” I say, still grinning. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’d like to take you flying on my wind plank,” Eldaren says. “I think you’d enjoy it.”
“What is it?”
“Would you like to see?” The prince smiles tentatively at me.
“Right now?” That’s unexpected. “Don’t you have a meeting or something you have to attend to?”
“I cleared my day of meetings, and you’ve parked yourself by this goldfish pond. I don’t foresee a garden walk or much studying getting done in my near future. But I can take you flying if you wish.”
“Uh, sure, I guess. Thanks?”
Eldaren grins and grabs my hand, tugging me back toward the fortress. “You won’t regret this. Get ready to fly, Stella, mine.”
10
Stella
Gravel crunches underfoot as Eldaren and I walk around to the other side of the elven base. We pass several guards at various locations, some in plain sight, while others stand under trees and in shadows. It makes me wonder how many guards are about that I don’t see.
Eldaren takes me to what looks like a parking lot of sorts. But instead of cars and other gravity-bound vehicles that I am used to, there are several of what I presume are sky ships. Some of them have wheels, too, in their parked state. Some have wings, and others have sails. All look strange. I’ve seen airplanes and helicopters before, but these look utterly foreign to me. Uncertainty prickles my arms as I peer around. Sometimes I can almost forget that the prince isn’t human, but here, it’s all but impossible to do so.
His hand still gripping mine, Eldaren leads me to one of the smallest contraptions in the lot. “It looks like a longboard or something,” I say. But that isn’t quite right. It’s longer than one and has a crystal secured on the back end of it. It’s made of some sort of metal, the surface scuffed, paint peeling.
“It’s not a longboard.” Eldaren helps me on, never mind I’m capable of getting on it myself. He’s very attentive sometimes, and I can’t tell if it’s elven chivalry he’s displaying or if he thinks humans are really that incapable of looking after themselves. “It’s a wind plank. It can roll across the ground, as you can see by the wheels, but its primary purpose is for flight.”
“Really?” I peer
down at it. “How?” I don’t see any wings, propellers or jets of any sort. Eldaren, however, seems to be perfectly comfortable in its ability and positions himself behind me.
"What do I hold onto?” My breath is beginning to come in shallow gasps. I have no doubt we’ll be airborne in moments, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
“Nothing. I’ll hold onto you.” Eldaren demonstrates, slipping an arm around my waist. “Ready, my heart?”
“No.” I swallow, glancing around nervously. “I’m less certain about this, now.”
Eldaren doesn’t reply. He flicks his wrist, and the crystal embedded on the back of the contraption glows silvery white, a gentle humming reverberating through the board.
Wind plank, huh? I used a skateboard a handful of times in the past, and I have a sneaky suspicion that despite its appearance, this will be nothing like it.
“We’re off.” Eldaren now has both arms around my waist. How convenient. I chortle to myself, and the plank shudders and begins to move.
Up.
“We’re going higher!” I squeal, and it’s all I can do not to turn and wrap myself around Eldaren. If this thing goes down, I’m betting he fares better than the wind plank itself. And I’ll fare worse than either.
The prince laughs, and the sound makes my heart skitter in happiness. It’s a breathless chuckle of exhilaration, and his grasp around me tightens.
We’re soaring over the streets, over treetops, and now we’re skimming the tops of buildings. The whole of Liberty is sprawled before me, and all is silent save for the wind plank’s gentle humming.
A lump rises in my throat. The city is so beautiful . . . and terrible. It’s in complete devastation. I knew we humans were in dire straits, but only because that is what my parents told me. Living off the leftovers of the city is the only life I’ve ever known, until meeting Eldaren. And while life has been mostly difficult for me, I’ve still had moments of joy. And now, I can see what I couldn’t before.
Liberty is in complete shambles. Even with the trees the elves have planted, and with their efforts of cleaning up the streets, I realize that there is still so much destruction that even they might not be able to undo.
And we’ve been resisting their help, I think. We’re idiots. Humans are proud, stubborn fools.
“I like being up here.” Eldaren raises his voice to be heard above the wind. “It’s less crowded, and I’m not constantly bothered.”
“If you didn’t want to be bothered, you should have left me down there,” I joke.
“You could never bother me, Stella,” is the grave reply.
Eldaren often doesn’t understand my sarcasm.
The wind runs through my long hair, whipping it back and up into Eldaren’s face, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“This is amazing,” I shout. “It’s like I’m really flying.”
“You are flying.” The prince sounds puzzled. “You are hundreds of feet above the ground.”
“In my dreams, I’m flying without the aid of a machine. It’s just me.” I smile over my shoulder at him. “But this is the next best thing, I bet.”
Eldaren grins back, and attraction shudders through me, fogging my mind and heightening my senses. He looks amazing; the wind whipping his black hair out behind him. His gray eyes glitter with our shared excitement, and his fangs are exposed in his brilliant smile. “I like it when you smile,” I say, still watching him.
The grin is gone. “I wasn’t trying to,” he replies. “Elves try not to show their emotion when they can hold back.”
“That’s stupid,” I reply. “You’re extra gorgeous when you smile, Eldaren.”
“Oh.” He looks taken aback. “I didn’t know that. There’s no accounting for human taste, I see.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.” I roll my eyes and turn my sights back to the city. “Can we fly over the water?”
“Of course.” Eldaren leans left, and the plank turns and shoots towards the harbor. I bite back a squeal, my fingers curling into fists. “We’re going to fall!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” is the calm reply. “I’m very skilled at flying this wind plank, Stella. I’ve had it for decades, which makes it older than you.”
My nose scrunches, and I swallow before speaking, trying to calm my nervousness. The wind plank straightens out, and I can breathe again. “That makes you sound old.”
“Not for an elf, I am not.”
We draw near the sea, and the sun breaks free of the clouds. The water is bathed in a glorious cloak of orange and gold. I gaze down at the waves, and then out at the vast expanse before me. “I didn’t realize the earth was such a big place.” I don’t shout, but Eldaren hears me above the wind and crystal’s hum, anyway.
“This is just a very small part of the planet, Stella,” he says.
The thought is almost frightening. It makes me feel small and insignificant. Like I don’t matter.
“Have the elves begun to help other areas?” I ask.
“Yes.” He turns the wind plank again, using his weight to control its direction, and we’re flying back toward the shore. “A few other cities, and what’s left of the forests. We also have elves stationed on the east coast of America, cleaning the air of radiation, though that will take a long time, even by elven standards.”
“You can do that?” I squeak, peering at him again. “Truly?”
A smirk tugs at his lips and is gone. “We can do many things, Stella.” I can hear the faintest flicker of satisfaction in his voice.
I’m quiet for the rest of the trip. I didn’t know the elves were doing so much to heal the planet. For them, though, or for us? Maybe for the earth itself. I still wasn’t completely sure of their motives, but that they haven’t chosen to wipe out the humans seems to be a good sign. That’s what happens in the stories I’d read, when aliens came to Earth. But the elves haven’t done that. For all of their faults and strange ways, they have decided that humans are an important part of this planet.
Eldaren hovers the plank over the base for a moment, and we descend into the docking area, landing with a gentle bump.
“How do you feel?” Eldaren asks quietly. His hair is a gorgeous tangle about his shoulders, and the tips of his ears are red from the cold.
I consider his words. “I feel happy,” I say quietly, and guilt flutters through me at the words. Am I allowed to be happy around Eldaren? He’s not Wilder, and he’s an invader to my planet.
The prince takes my hand and kisses my fingertips, making goosebumps prickle across my arms at the contact. “Then I shall take you flying again,” he says. “I want you to feel happy when you’re with me. Good day, my dear heart. I shall be in my office, if you need me.”
Then he’s gone. I watch his tall form stride away, my emotions as clouded as the constant smog that hangs over Liberty.
What do I feel for the elven prince?
And is it real?
11
Stella
“Concentrate,” Sol says, his tone mellow, almost bored. “You’re thinking about how tired you are.”
“Darn tootin’,” I growl. Mother never approved of swearing, so I’ve had to get creative with my language, though occasionally it sounds ridiculous. I’ve been in a horse stance for five minutes, and I’m exhausted. Sweat trickles down my back, and I push a damp strand of blonde hair out of my face. My legs tremble from exertion.
Sol stands across from me, in the same stance, only I don’t detect even the faintest sheen of sweat on him. And I can see a lot of him, which is distracting. I’m beginning to think all elves must be perfectly sculpted. He’s only wearing trousers and boots and he doesn’t seem to notice that my eyes keep involuntarily roving over his pale, well-muscled chest. Stars in the sky, he looks as fit as Eldaren.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
“Maybe because I am,” I reply through clenched teeth. My breath is coming in shaky breaths, and my legs have
been unsteady for some time.
“Take a break,” Sol commands, and he straightens out of his horse stance in one smooth movement.
I mean to stand, and instead fall in an undignified heap.
“Easy, there.” Sol helps me to my feet, chuckling at my groan of pain.
“You push me even harder than Eldaren,” I say. “I’d rather exercise with him.”
“I doubt he would complain,” Sol says with a wink, “depending on the workout.”
“Shut up.” I punch his shoulder and hurt my knuckles.
Sol grips my upper arms and spins me around, pushing me forward with a shove that makes me stumble and almost fall again. “Climb the rock wall.”
“But I’m tired,” I whine.
“Now, or I’ll come up with something else for you to do.”
“You’re the worst,” I complain, starting forward.
“That’s not what she said,” he replies, and I laugh, despite myself. Sol is very fond of using human expressions and phrases.
I reach the wall and pull myself up, easily finding hand and foot holds. Climbing is my favorite workout by far. I enjoy it outside of exercise, really. I feel instinctively safer, creating space between myself and the world below and all of its troubles. I only wish that the wall was taller than it is. Pulling myself to the top, I’m met by Sol. His face is expressionless, but I see the amusement that sparkles in his pale blue eyes.
“How do you move so fast?” I complain.
Sol lifts his palms upward. “I’m an elf? I don’t know. I just move.”
“Hmm.” I turn my gaze downward, looking at the elves and humans training below. I see Quinn in a far corner, doing pushups. Beatrice is beside him, as well as the boy who controls water. I haven’t had the chance to talk to him yet. “I’m surprised the humans are still alive,” I joke. “You guys push them, us, way too hard, you know.”
“Eh.” Sol flaps a hand dismissively. “Humans are very resilient. It’s why so many of you are still around, despite the fact you’ve destroyed your planet and societies.”