by Daniel Kirk
Soon they were airborne, sailing through the clouds of Elf Realm back to the place where the adventure had begun. Tomtar rode with Matt in the cab of one Arvada, and Asra rode with Becky. “I never thought I’d have to get into one of these things again,” Becky said, lying flat on her back and looking up at her friend, sitting beside her.
Asra stroked Powcca’s Goblin head and nodded. “The last time I flew in an Arvada, I was hurrying to Hunaland, hoping I’d find you alive, Becky. I sat up in the front with—” Her words caught in her throat and she turned her head away, gazing from the window.
“With Macta,” Becky said, grimacing. “Was it awful?”
“Ah,” Asra said with a wistful smile. She wasn’t sure Becky would understand; she wasn’t sure she understood it herself. “Well, yes and no.”
“What do you mean?”
Asra sighed. “I never had an adventure like this in my life. Never. And if it weren’t for Macta, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you now. He saved my life more than once. Don’t you think that means something?”
Becky eyed her friend warily. “I suppose.”
“You know,” Asra said. “If there was anyone in Macta’s life that he really hated, it was Jardaine. But if there was anyone whom he truly loved, it was me. I pushed him away for so long, and for many good reasons, too! But toward the end I realized I’d been doing it out of habit. Toward the end I realized that the fact that he loved me might well be enough, that it would suffice when I became his Queen. I truly considered ignoring everything else.”
“You were going to marry him?” Becky asked incredulously.
Asra scratched Powcca under the chin. The Goblin lifted his head and grumbled contentedly. “We’ll never know, will we? Despite everything that happened, there was a time, not long ago, when I might have said yes. I never met anyone else like him, Becky. He wanted to help me find you; he cared more than anything about my wishes, my desires, my safety …” Asra paused, collecting her thoughts. “I suppose I should feel honored that the one who inspired such conflicted emotions in me is the one whose name will live in legend, for sacrificing his life for the sake of the new tree, for the sake of Elf Realm.”
“What was it like when he … when he died?” Becky asked. Being under Jardaine’s spell at the center of the world, she remembered very little.
Asra tried to block the image that immediately appeared in her mind: Macta and Jardaine joined in a fiery white ball of energy, and an emerald spray of Blood. “It was strange, and very, very sad, too. I keep thinking there was something I could have done to stop it, if I had it to do all over again … but I suppose everything happened the way it was meant to be! What about you, Becky? Is there anything you’d have chosen to do differently?”
Becky furrowed her brow. “Well, I didn’t trust Tomtar, for one. I should have, but I didn’t. I listened to Jardaine’s lies and believed them, because …” Becky frowned. “I don’t know!”
“Because Jardaine was a good liar?” Asra suggested. “Because you’re young, and young people always prefer to believe what older people tell them is true? It makes the world seem like a safer, more predictable place. That’s what we all want, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” Becky said slowly. “I like feeling safe. But that’s not why I went to Helfratheim with you, or why I went to Hunaland with Jardaine. I wanted to help the people I care about. That’s all. Even if I didn’t really help them, I tried. I just wanted what I did to matter.”
Asra beamed. “You did more than try! That’s why you mean so much to me, Becky. I never knew a Human before I met you. When we met, I never thought that I’d see something in you that I admired, something that I wanted to be. You should be proud of yourself, because what you do does matter. It will always matter to me.”
Becky bit her lip. “Are we going to be able to be friends, once we get back to Alfheim? Once this is all over?”
Asra took the girl’s hand and squeezed it.
Matt lay in the second Arvada, with his knees pressed up against the roof of the craft. The brass ceiling yielded to the pressure of his knees, and every time he pushed, the Air Sprite above responded with a rumble of irritation. “I’ll make him cry for mercy,” Matt said.
“Better not,” Tomtar replied, sitting beside his friend with his flute on his lap. “That’s my job!” He picked up his flute and played the first part of “The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond.” The cab rocked as the Sprite let out a roar.
Matt and Tomtar laughed. “He really doesn’t like music,” Tomtar said.
“At least, not your music,” Matt said. “That was some risk you took playing your flute down in the cave, when those snakes were after us!”
Tomtar shuddered. “Horrible. I assume they all got crushed when the rocks came crashing down and the tree roots pulled out … but there are probably a couple of little baby monsters left, and they’ll find a way to survive until the next time a Seed needs to get planted!”
Matt nodded. “That was a weird way to plant a seed, wasn’t it? I thought that somebody would have to dig a little hole in the dirt and tuck it into the ground. Once we got the seed down into the middle of the earth, though, it didn’t seem to need much help—the way it floated, burning like the sun, and shot out its little roots like they were snakes! Amazing.”
“Snakes, snakes, snakes!” Tomtar said. “If I never see another thing that reminds me of a snake, I’ll be happy!”
“Well, I don’t suppose we needed to see any snakes to begin with, since you and I weren’t really needed down there, anyway. Tuava-Li got it messed up from the beginning. Everybody did, thinking that the whole quest thing needed an elf, a troll, and a human. When that turned out to be wrong, it was pretty clear that you and I went down there for nothing.”
Tomtar shook his head. “As far as the Goddess was concerned, it seems like a Princess stood in perfectly well for a Prince, to go with the King and the Mage! And as for you and me, Matt, I think we played a pretty important role.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“You might never have agreed to go on the quest if it weren’t for me comin’ along, ’cause you weren’t sure you could trust Tuava-Li.”
“And now I know why!” Matt exclaimed.
“Jardaine never would have come after the Seed without havin’ Becky to help,” the Troll continued, “’cause she thought she needed a Human to go with her.”
“You’re right about that.”
“And think about it, Asra and Macta never would have come, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Macta wanted to kill Jardaine and Asra wanted to save Becky! The Seed would never have gotten planted at the center of the earth without the help of each and every one of us!”
“Seems like you’ve thought the whole thing through pretty carefully.”
Tomtar shrugged. “It’s all clear as day.”
“Yeah.” Matt laughed. “We were all there to do our job. Like Tuava-Li used to say, the goddess always provides!”
When the Arvada sailed within view of Alfheim, the crowds of Faerie Folk cheered. Snake-tailed kites flapped in the breeze as Elfmaids in ceremonial garb danced joyfully, and bonfires sent clouds of colored smoke into the air. The Air Sprites roared and shot pillars of flame. “You’d have thought they’d have had enough of fires around here,” Tomtar said, gazing out the window. “I’m surprised they’re even tryin’ to rebuild, after all the destruction that took place. You’d think the Mage would be afraid to come home, but they say that the fires cleared the land of contamination!”
“What does it look like?” Matt asked. “Alfheim, I mean.” He’d strained his neck to peer from the Arvada portals, but from his angle, all he could see were clouds.
“’Tis green,” Tomtar said. “Things are definitely growin’ back. There are tents, hundreds of ’em. Some big ones, too. And lots of Faerie Folk!”
“All hail the returning heroes,” Matt said, shifting uncomfortably. He thought of Kalevala Van Frier, the Mage of Alfheim. He knew
he’d be seeing her soon. She’d sent him on the quest with Tuava-Li expecting that his life would be sacrificed at the end of the journey. Though Tuava-Li had time to regret her decision, there was no reason to think that the Mage ever felt guilty about it. He couldn’t wait to tell her what he thought of her.
The Mage of Alfheim stood on a viewing stand facing the field, watching the Arvada descend. Beside her stood her friend and fellow Mage Neaca, Queen Shorya of Alfheim, Queen Metis and King Adon of Ljosalfar, as well as Tacita, the Secretary of the Synod of Ljosalfar. Behind them, representing the kingdom of Helfratheim, were Prashta, the Most Reverent Official Agent of Dockalfar Security Operations, and Lehtinen, Director of Operations. Hundreds of other dignitaries, religious figures, and royal families from neighboring kingdoms were gathered nearby, waiting to see who had survived the ordeal at the North Pole and the center of the earth. The crowd would have been far bigger, but for the fact that the Cord was now in a transitional phase. As the roots of Yggdrasil grew anew, overground travel was still the only real possibility. Many others from more remote outposts were still en route and hoped to arrive in time to get a glimpse of the heroes, fresh from their adventure. At the back of the crowd, a contingent of Green Men stood proudly, their leafy branches held high.
Prashta and Lehtinen sweated profusely as they watched the Arvada land. As of yet, they had no idea whether or not King Macta was alive. Both had substantial bets riding on their leader’s fate. War planners, meanwhile, had worked out strategies for every possible scenario. The Council of Seven had provided not only the Arvada, but resources for setting up tents and providing food and entertainment for the guests at the celebration. They were prepared to pay quite substantial funds for the rebuilding of Alfheim, as well, as long as certain requirements were met. They had promised to reveal their terms at a meeting with the Mage of Alfheim and those who returned in the Arvada.
All eyes were on the hatch door as clouds of dust blew up around the great brass cabs. Aeronauts climbed down ropes drawn from the riggings, and anchored the craft to the soil. The Air Sprites twitched in discomfort in being lashed to the ground, for they were born to fly. The first Elf to emerge from the cab was Princess Asra. Her mother, Queen Shorya, cried out in relief to see her daughter smile and wave. Asra grinned at the cheering crowd and descended the steps to her homeland. Royal guards escorted her to a large gray tent. Members of the flight crew were the last to exit the craft. Aeronauts at the back of the cab turned the enormous screws to release Becky, for the final time, from her flying prison. There was substantially less applause when the girl crept into the sunlight, wiping the dirt from her hands onto her jeans, and hurried to follow her friend Asra.
Then the hatch door opened on the second Arvada. Tomtar stepped out, ducking his head and squinting. Raucous applause erupted in the crowd as Tomtar’s cousins, Megala, Mitelle, and Delfina, cheered and clapped their hands. Tomtar waved and smiled broadly, wondering how they’d managed to get invited to the ceremony at Alfheim. Guards hurried him toward the tent before he had the chance to greet them personally. When it was clear that the captain and his crew of Aeronauts were the last Faerie Folk to leave the Arvada, Prashta and Lehtinen exchanged glances of enormous relief. Macta, they rightly assumed, was dead. “Let us meet the others in the octagonal tent,” Prashta said to the Mage. “We have much to discuss with you as well as Princess Asra and the Troll.”
Having seen Asra and Tomtar get out of the Arvada, but not Jardaine, Macta, Nick, or Tuava-Li, the crowd dispersed. Until the evening, when they would gather again to hear the story of the quest revealed for the first time, they were content to gossip, and speculate on what had happened, and enjoy the refreshments provided for their comfort and pleasure by the good folk of Helfratheim. Meanwhile, Aeronauts released Matt from the back of the cab. The Queen’s soldiers trembled visibly, unable to hide their excitement at being part of this momentous event, as they led Matt into the tent.
“Have the Humans sit on the floor,” Prashta ordered the soldiers.
The rest of them took their seats at a long table that had been brought in for the meeting. Queen Shorya arrived at the tent flap and cried out, “Asra!”
The Princess leapt up from her seat and raced into her mother’s arms. Both Tomtar and Becky wiped happy tears from their eyes at the sight of the reunion. Prashta and Lehtinen, however, were disturbed by such a public display of affection, and grumbled, shuffling papers in their hands, until the mother and daughter had taken their seats next to the Mage. Queen Shorya touched the sleeve of the Mage’s robe and whispered, “I’m so, so sorry! Tuava-Li was—”
“I knew it,” the Mage murmured sorrowfully. “’Tis no real surprise. When the Arvada arrived I reached out to her in thoughtspeak, and heard nothing in reply. I knew she would not be returning to me.”
“Wait,” Asra said soothingly. “’Tis not what it seems! I’ll explain it all, as soon as—”
Prashta got to his feet and said, “Let me begin by extending my welcome to Princess Asra and Tomtar.”
Lehtinen kicked Prashta’s shin and scowled at him. Prashta scowled back and added, “And of course the Humans, Matthew and Rebecca.”
Lehtinen nodded appreciatively. He knew it was in the best interest of them all to acknowledge the part the Humans had played in the quest. Prashta continued, “I congratulate you all on the completion of your quest. You were given an incredible opportunity to serve Elf Realm, and your performance was truly admirable. Now, let me stress that the gentle folk of Helfratheim are brokenhearted to discover that it was not King Macta’s fate to return with you.” He raised an eyebrow and gazed intently at Asra. “As we’re very concerned about preserving our leader’s memory and reputation among our people, we want to make sure that the story the two of you tell about your quest reflects the importance of Macta’s sacrifice, and protects the legacy we plan to build around his name. As we discussed with your Mage and Queen, we’re prepared to offer substantial sums of money and resources for the rebuilding of Alfheim, to provide shelter for all of its inhabitants until the trees of the forest grow anew, to provide food, and public education for the young ones, as well as medical care for those in need. All that we ask for in return is the control over the tale of King Macta’s bravery and heroism. Do you understand?”
Asra stared at Prashta in disbelief. “You don’t even know what happened, and you want to dictate how the story will be told? You’re not even interested in the truth!”
Prashta and Lehtinen exchanged glances. “The truth is a rare and precious jewel,” Prashta said, “a jewel with many facets. We simply want to see that the light is directed properly!”
“Aye,” said Asra. “Now would you like to hear the truth?”
Prashta and Lehtinen pursed their lips doubtfully and nodded. Asra then proceeded to relate the story of what had happened to her and Macta when they reached Hunaland, and what the Goddess had in store for them at the center of the earth. The picture she painted of the adventure was a revelation to all that heard it. Even Lehtinen and Prashta appeared to be moved by the tale. “And Tuava-Li,” she ended, “the one whose vision led to the quest, and the planting of the Sacred Seed, will remain at the center of the earth, watching and waiting. When all of us are long gone, Tuava-Li will remain, the chosen of the Goddess, to ensure that the Seed at the heart of Elf Realm is safe and secure.”
Tears ran down the Mage’s cheeks to know that Tuava-Li was still alive. Though she’d never ever see her protégé again, she was proud beyond measure that Tuava-Li had been chosen to perform such an important role and that her name would live for all time.
Queen Shorya, too, was proud to see that her daughter spoke so freely and with such confidence. It was obvious to her that Asra was meant to tell the story of the quest to plant the Sacred Seed, and to spread the news far and wide. Whether or not Asra ever married, or had children to pass on her name and her legacy, Shorya knew that Asra had found her true calling, and that her words would inspire any
and all who heard them.
But Prashta and Lehtinen were of a different mind. “Thank you for sharing your versions of what transpired,” Prashta said curtly. “It warms the heart to hear it. But now I shall tell you the version of the tale that must be told. The security of Elf Realm depends upon it!”
“Indeed it does,” Lehtinen agreed.
Prashta cleared his throat. “An Elf, a Troll, and a Human, re-creating the epic, ancient quest of Prince Fada, traveled to Hunaland.” He paused to cast stern glances all around. “Their names were Macta, Tomtar, and Matthew. The Great Goddess granted Macta the honor of carrying the Seed of the Adri to the center of the earth. Now as in ancient times, the Human’s life was to be sacrificed so that the Seed could be born anew. But King Macta, to show his love and compassion for Humankind, generously offered his own life in exchange for the boy’s. The sacrifice of the King makes him truly unique in the history of Elfinkind, and though he no longer walks this earth, he lives on in the mythic tree, in the Cords that encircle the globe, and in our hearts. Without Macta, Elf Realm would not have survived. Because of Macta, we are all graced with the blessings of the Goddess, for now and evermore. And when the day comes that Human and Faerie meet again, we will be prepared to show them our kindness, and to enter into the kinds of partnerships that will prove financially beneficial to all.”
Lehtinen raised a finger. “We will accept that the Princess and the Human girl were there as witnesses, but the two of them must agree to keep silent, and let us, as representatives of Helfratheim, relate the tale throughout the realm. That is, if you understand the wisdom in accepting our offer.”
“Your view of the truth is quite selective,” the Mage interjected. “Where is Tuava-Li in all of this? What will happen next time the Seed must be planted to save our world, if your tale is taken at face value? It was providence that this quest was ever completed, given how misunderstood the task that lay before our heroes turned out to be! You may offer us money and resources, but what are they, compared to the truth?”