Fields of Wrath

by Mickey Zucker Reichert

  Saviar curled up on the blanket, hoping to rest until something came to break up the monotony. Even had he felt tired, he doubted the shroud of pain that flared with every motion would allow him to sleep. His mind worked overtime. If magic could not be placed permanently, then how did the Mages of Myrcidë keep their village secret and in place? The building remained where no one who did not already know its location could see it. The windows did not move. It did not collapse during the night and get rebuilt each morning.

  Uncomfortable in his current position, Saviar rolled to his other side, inciting the chorus of aches again. As he slipped closer toward sleep, more basic worries harried him. Would he ever see his father and brothers again? Would he hold a sword in his sgrip? Did he have any chance to die in battle and find Valhalla? Why had he undertaken this fool’s mission when so many more important situations beckoned? Why did Chymmerlee’s opinion of him matter so much?

  Unable to sleep, Saviar sat up, put his head in his hands, and waited.

  War makes for the strangest of alliances, separates the incompetent from the skilled and the petty from the truly important.

  —Santagithi

  THE FIRST TWO TIMES Tae and Matrinka knocked on the bedroom door of Tem’aree’ay Donnev’ra Amal-yah Krish-anda Mal-satorian, they got no answer. As they stood in front of the teak panel a third time and Matrinka worked the bronze bear-shaped knocker, Tae could hear the thudding sound echoing through the room. Imorelda sniffed at the crack below the door, tentatively whisking her paws inside. *She’s there.*

  Imorelda had said the same thing the last two times they came, but Griff’s elfin wife had not answered then, either. Tae tested the latch without fully lifting it. It moved easily. He eased it silently back into place.

  “What are you doing?” Matrinka whispered.

  “It’s not locked.” Tae’s response did not address the question. He reached for the latch again.

  “You can’t go in there,” Matrinka hissed. “What if she’s not dressed?”

  Tae doubted Tem’aree’ay would care. Elves had a carefree attitude beyond the ken of most humans. They whisked through lives devoid of responsibility, the passage of time meaningless, their dwellings nonexistent on a world that had no weather. They did not suffer from disease or infections and had magic to handle any form of injury. Though freely sexual, they did not have to worry about accidental conception. They used their magic most commonly for petty, playful purposes.

  However, the longer Tem’aree’ay had remained among humans, the more like them she had become. She still took no clear notice of politics, yet she had learned to recognize Griff’s discomfort and distract him when affairs of state furrowed his brow. Though she still relied on the servants to choose appropriate attire, at least she understood human modesty and never raced through the corridors naked. She still had a childlike wonder about her, and no one who knew about elves would mistake her for human, but she had changed dramatically in her nearly twenty years at Béarn Castle.

  Ignoring Matrinka’s warning, Tae gently and silently pushed open the door. The room seemed larger than Matrinka’s own, which surprised Tae until he realized the appearance of space came from the paucity of furniture. The room had no bed, just a pile of earth-colored blankets in one corner. The furniture was simple: one wardrobe, one chest, one chair on which Princess Ivana currently perched.

  Ivana’s oddness never escaped Tae, nor anyone who looked upon her homely visage. She had a blocky body with short, thick legs, long fingers, and doll-like feet. Chubby cheeks nearly hid her small mouth and nose. She had elfin, canted eyes, an inhuman reddish-yellow in color. Her thick, straight hair fell, waveless, past her shoulders, blackish-blond with highlights of crimson and jade. White froth bubbled at the corners of her lips.

  Tem’aree’ay crouched in front of her eighteen-year-old daughter. Her slender body revealed all the grace Ivana lacked, her golden curls a riot of contrast to the princess’ limp and lifeless hair. She carried no bulk at all beneath a shift clearly not intended for crouching. It hugged her tiny buttocks, revealing the same boyish figure all of the elves shared. If not for the males’ tendency to keep their locks shorn, Tae could not have distinguished most elves’ gender.

  Tae stepped inside, while Matrinka hung back, clearly uncomfortable with the intrusion. Inside, he noticed the wood composing the furniture remained true to its original form, still swathed in bark, mostly branches lashed together. The window had no curtains. Sunlight beamed in, burning his eyes and forcing him to blink, though it did not seem to bother Tem’aree’ay at all.

  Imorelda’s voice speared into his thoughts. *You’re acting rudely.*

  Suddenly feeling like a voyeur, Tae cleared his throat.

  Tem’aree’ay stiffened and turned. Tae had never seen her without a smile on her lips, and she did not disappoint him. Though small, it set off her dainty features and canted, sapphire eyes, bowing her heart-shaped lips. “Hello. I didn’t expect company.” Catching sight of Matrinka, she gestured for the queen of Béarn to enter. “Oh, Matrinka. Please, come in.”

  Matrinka complied, though she minced her steps as if the floor burned her feet. “I’m so sorry we bothered you when you obviously didn’t want company.” Her words were clearly intended for Tae’s benefit. “We can come another time.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Tem’aree’ay’s smile grew. “You’re welcome any time.” Her triangular tongue caught and held Tae’s attention.

  Ivana made a braying noise of welcome, so loud and abrupt it startled Tae. He felt his heart start pounding but covered his discomfort as well and quickly as he could.

  More accustomed to the half-human, Matrinka only smiled and addressed her directly. “Hello, Ivana.”

  Ivana grinned at the attention and jumped down from the chair. Clumsily, she ran toward Matrinka. Imorelda rushed out of her path, and even Tae found himself recoiling. The girl threw her arms around Matrinka in a large, sticky hug.

  Tem’aree’ay’s smile grew wan, but it did not disappear. “Ivana, go out and find Nahnah, please. Matrinka and I would like to chat.”

  Ivana clung to Matrinka, and the queen returned the embrace with a genuine warmth Tae would have had to feign. He would endure a hug for the sake of propriety and his friends, but he much preferred that the strange and barely intelligent creature not touch him.

  After longer than most would find proper, Ivana did release Matrinka. She looked around, as if trying to decide what to do next. Tae braced himself.

  Tem’aree’ay glided in front of her daughter and made sure to catch her eyes. She enunciated each word clearly. “Ivana, go find Nahnah.” She pointed out the door.

  Ivana’s gaze followed Tem’aree’ay’s finger.

  “Go find Nahnah.”

  Emitting loud, wordless noises, Ivana walked out of the room, and Tem’aree’ay closed the door behind her.

  Imorelda had a guileless way of making difficult points. *Why do they keep that monstrosity?*

  Tae winced. He wondered if he would have the strength and compassion necessary to care for a child so horribly crippled. *Humans love their offspring. No matter their . . . differences.*

  *Differences?* Imorelda loosed a catty snort that sounded more like a sneeze. *She’s not different. She’s misshapen and almost mindless. If she were mine, I’d have eaten her at birth.*

  Elves never acted hurried, and Tem’aree’ay seemed prepared to wait hours for Tae to explain his decision to enter her room unbidden. Matrinka, however, gave Tae a pointed stare. She had promised to let him do most of the talking, gathering as much information as possible and revealing as little as necessary. Matrinka had a tendency to simply lay out every truth and let things happen as they would.

  Tae sighed. Now was not the time to get into a discussion of what constitutes humanity and proper human emotion with a cat.

  *Besides,* the tabby continued, *H
er mother isn’t human.*

  Tae also did not wish to discuss elfin emotion with a cat, especially when he did not know much about it himself. “We’re sorry to bother you, Tem’aree’ay. It’s just that we’re concerned about the Kjempemagiska returning.”

  Tem’aree’ay bobbed her head, guessing. “You want me to try to talk the elves into joining the battle against them.”

  Tae fell silent. It was not the prospect he had intended to raise, but it was at least equally as important. “Well, yes. That’s one reason.”

  Tem’aree’ay pursed her heart-shaped lips. “I didn’t have any luck convincing them to come for this last battle.” She shook her head, finally losing the smile. “The only time elves went to war, it split us in two: the svartalf and the lysalf.”

  Tae knew enough of their language and history to identify the terms: the dark elves and the light elves. The first group had tried to eliminate humans, blaming them for the Ragnarok and the ultimate destruction of Alfheim. The second group, to which Tem’aree’ay belonged, wished to live in peace with humans, though not necessarily among them.

  “The svartalf would never help you, even if you could find the world to which they got banished. To the lysalf, war is . . . unconscionable. To many it’s a . . .” Tem’aree’ay waved a hand, clearly seeking words that did not translate well. “. . . a nonconcept. A state of humankind beyond our understanding.”

  Tae spoke the elfin word she chose not to use: vitanhvergi. It translated literally as “understand a nowhere,” and they used it to refer to ideas that did not translate from other cultures to their own.

  Tem’aree’ay’s eyes widened, and she stared at Tae. “You speak Elvish?”

  Tae shrugged, accustomed to this reaction to his gift. “A few words.”

  Tem’aree’ay turned a critical eye on him, as steady a blue as a sapphire, without the star-shaped core so often seen in humans. “That’s not exactly a basic, conversational word.”

  As always, Matrinka revealed more than she needed to, “He has an amazing ability with languages. Picks them up easily.”

  Tae did not reprimand her, not even with a raised brow. It was his own fault for casually inserting an elfin term into the conversation. He had done it hoping to win Tem’aree’ay over with his interest in things elfin. “I do all right, I guess. My current interest is khohlar.”

  “Khohlar?” Tem’aree’ay cocked her head. “Most humans just seem confused by it.”

  “I am, too,” Tae admitted. “But I’d like to understand it.”

  “Why?” A hint of suspicion entered Tem’aree’ay’s tone. Despite being of the lysalf, even though she had chosen to live among humans, she still clearly had doubts about humans’ intentions toward elves. And if she worried about their motives, Tae had to imagine the other elves certainly did. And more so.

  Imorelda’s voice appeared in Tae’s head. *Matrinka says you need to tell her.*

  Tae did not need two females impeding his work. Matrinka had surely also noticed Tem’aree’ay’s discomfort and worried Tae had missed it. *Tell her I’m as good with wordless communication as any other language. I work better when neither of you is interrupting me.*

  Imorelda curled up on Tem’aree’ay’s blankets. So long as they remained in the same room, with no doors or walls between them, she could continue to “talk” to him. *Well. Excuse me for relaying a message.*

  Tae tried to address Tem’aree’ay’s question as well as her underlying concerns. “Because the Kjempemagiska—”

  Imorelda intruded, *I wouldn’t want to interfere with your sparkling genius by sending a message I was—*

  “—and the alsona—”

  *—asked to convey by a queen who is like a sister to you.*

  “—have a mind-language similar to khohlar that I—”

  Tae felt sweat breaking out beneath his collar as he tried to hold together the threads of two separate conversations without revealing what he was doing to Tem’aree’ay or Matrinka. *Imorelda, please. Be quiet until I can finish, and I’ll let you yowl at me the rest of the day.*

  The cat broke contact, leaving a clear concept of righteous indignation.

  “—have mostly figured out.”

  Tem’aree’ay stared. “You have ‘mostly figured out’ a mind-language?”

  Tae glanced at Matrinka before nodding. She seemed relieved he had explained at least that much to the royal elf. Matrinka’s main hope was to protect Imorelda’s part in the translation, just as he did.

  Tae nodded.

  “Humans don’t do mind-languages.” Tem’aree’ay’s long, slender fingers settled on either side of her dainty face. “They have no magic.” The smile wholly vanished, leaving nothing but innocent question on her features. “Do they?”

  “None that I know of,” Tae said. “Except for this . . . this mind-language thing. Is it actually magic, or something else? I’m wondering how the alsona/Kjempemagiska mind-language relates to khohlar.”

  Apparently, even Imorelda had become interested enough in the conversation to neither interfere nor sulk; at least she did not barge into Tae’s thoughts. The tips of Tem’aree’ay’s fingers drummed gently against her temples. “The one Kjempemagiska I saw strongly radiated magic. The ones you call alsona had only a very faint aura. Perhaps it’s this mind-language you speak of.”

  Tae knew too little of magic to add much speculation. “Or some means the Kjempemagiska have of controlling them.”

  Tem’aree’ay nodded with an all-too-human thoughtfulness that baffled Tae.

  “You know, don’t you?” Tae tried.

  Tem’aree’ay swung her features around to him. They remained creased and curious. “I know what?”

  “You have some idea of why the alsona radiate magic. Something you would not have thought of until we had this discussion.”

  Tem’aree’ay shook her head. The oddness of her expression vanished. “No. You’ve just triggered some new ideas about an old problem.”

  Tae suspected the elf had useful information he needed. “Perhaps we could help one another. I wonder if we don’t have different pieces to the same puzzle. If we brought them together . . .”

  Tem’aree’ay’s head movement went from a slow shake to a slower bob. “The only human I’ve personally met with internal magic is Chymmerlee. I wish I had had a chance to talk to her about her abilities.” She added thoughtfully, “To my knowledge, the only humans who ever possessed and shaped chaos were the Mages of Myrcidë, but they were annihilated before my birth, which was more than two hundred years ago. You know that Chymmerlee and I worked together to suppress the Kjempemagiska’s powers in the recent battle, but she left me with a conundrum. She claimed two elves assisted her from the rooftop of Béarn Castle.”

  Matrinka finally spoke. “So at least one of the other elves came to help! That’s wonderful.”

  Tem’aree’ay’s head moved more vigorously from side to side. “You were on the rooftop with me during the war. Was there another elf?”

  “I just thought maybe . . . someone . . . I didn’t see . . .” Matrinka shut her mouth tightly, then started over. “I thought maybe he or she remained hidden.”

  “No.” Tem’aree’ay studied her small hands that looked so odd to Tae. The palms seemed doll-like, the fingers like overgrown stalks of fragile reeds. “I would have known if another elf had come, especially if he or she bonded with us; but I didn’t.” She wore an expression of dismay that went beyond what Tae thought logical.

  Perhaps Chymmerlee miscounted. Maybe, in the excitement of the moment, Tem’aree’ay did.

  “I thought Chymmerlee had made a mistake, but her insistence convinced me. Someone helped us contain the giant, someone who felt magically elfin to a human and human to an elf.” Tem’aree’ay looked up at Tae as if she hoped he would connect the dots without her.

  Matrinka had bee
n there at the time. She knew exactly who had waited anxiously on that rooftop during the battle. Nevertheless, doubt tinged her voice so thickly, it seemed unlikely her guess could be correct. “Ivana?”

  “It had to be.”

  Imorelda snorted again, another catty sneeze. *Impossible.*

  *Is it?*

  *She’s mindless.*

  *Is she?* Tae wondered if they both might learn a valuable lesson in not giving up on seemingly hopeless causes.

  *Would she act as she does if she weren’t?* Imorelda did not seek the most optimistic answer, as the humans and elf did. Whether this stemmed from her aversion to offspring or to more steady grounding in reality, Tae did not know.

  *Perhaps there is another answer.*

  Another snort.

  *It’s worth looking.*

  Imorelda did not seem convinced, but she did drop the subject. Matrinka, however, rushed eagerly forward. She always gravitated to the happiest possibilities, whether or not they panned out. “Does Ivana have . . . the capacity . . . for magic?”

  Tem’aree’ay tipped her head. “I don’t know. She has some elfish blood, so I have to assume she carries chaos. Whether or not she has the ability to shape it into magic . . .” She lifted one shoulder until it nearly touched her cheek, then dropped it. “I would not have thought so if not for Chymmerlee’s certainty that she had.” Tem’aree’ay continued to talk, but her voice gradually lost volume. “Combining chaos to assist others is the most basic and easy form of magic, but it is magic nonetheless.” By the time she finished, she was at a whisper. It obviously bothered her to share information about elfin methods with humans. That did not bode well for Tae.