by Jill Nojack
"It was fine." Tanji stabbed at the ice cream with her spoon. "You guys didn't need to stay together for me if you were unhappy. I mean, I wish she wasn't going to New York, but I wouldn't make her stay here just to make me happy."
"No. Neither would I," he said, as the glimmer of a tear appeared in the corner of his eye. He blinked it away.
"Oh dad..."
"Sweetheart, it's okay. We don't need to talk about how I feel, because you don't need to deal with the part that isn't about how much both your mother and I love you. You get that, right?"
"Whatevs. Now we're both single."
"You're still sure about the breakup with Thomas?"
"Yeah, it's kind of like what mom said. That sometimes people just don't want the same things." Her father flinched a little at this, but Tanji was looking off, remembering the conversation, and didn't see it. "I mean, I think about Thomas, and I still think he is one hot guy, plus crazy smart, and for a while he really started to loosen up and be fun. Then about a month ago, he went weird. Like, gonzo weird even for Thomas."
"No offense, but that's pretty weird."
"I know, right? He's gotten secretive and he acts like he barely knows I'm there most of the time. He's always someplace else in his head. And when I want to hang out, he's like 'I can't, I've got this thing I have to do', but he can't ever say what it is. Says that he'll tell me 'in the fullness of time'. Really, he said that—'in the fullness of time'—and that I will really like it. So what can that be about?"
Ron made a ya-got-me gesture . "So, how long will it take you to add 'in the fullness of time' to your favorite phrases list?"
"So kill me. I like words! Anyway, I get it now—what maybe you tried to tell me when I first asked if we could go out—we're two people who aren't right for each other."
"I always thought so, and it wasn't about the age difference. I just didn't see how the two of you were going to mesh. Even as friends, you don't have much in common."
"Well, thanks for letting me waste a couple of months of my dating life on a freak." Tanji stuck her tongue out at him, then turned serious. "I do mean that—about letting me figure it out on my own. I just wish Thomas would get a clue. He acts like we're still dating. And we are soooo not dating."
***
Freoric picked up the cage and tipped it sideways, shaking it to force the pixie dust off the bottom and into the ceramic bowl below. Inside the cage, the angry pixie buzzed and tried to bite his fingers through his heavy leather gloves. Freoric ignored the creature and set the cage back down harshly, sending the pixie slamming against the bars. It let out a pained yelp and then whimpered softly as Freoric picked up the bowl and walked away.
It was the darkest hour of the night. He had no fear of being discovered as he passed along what Thomas had told him the day before.
He removed a roll of blank manuscript from his pouch, sliced a section off, and returned the rest to its hiding place. With a quill dipped in a small inkwell, writing as much by feel as by sight in the dim moonlight, he scratched out the message he'd been waiting to send.
He wrote the details: it is almost done. He didn't write of his anticipation of the end of the plan, of his excitement about completing the job he'd been sent to London to accomplish before following Thomas to this far land. But he felt the excitement and anticipation keenly.
When he was done, he folded the packet, placed it into a small wooden box and shook the pixie dust into it. He put the lid back on and recited the words he'd been taught.
When he next opened the lid, the message was gone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
We Sail The Ocean Blue
Avenall sat stiffly at the table, unsure what to do with some of the utensils around his plate of food. The knife and the spoons were familiar. The implements with short prongs were more of a mystery. They would not be found on an elvin table. And why did he need two? He watched the other diners long enough to determine these tools were used to skewer the food just as a knife would be used. He picked one up to begin his meal. It served its purpose admirably.
That he had landed on a ship full of human elders and their mates was clear by the abundance of servants to bring them their food and drink, clear their dishes, and make sure that their needs were met. He was uncomfortable among the passengers despite his father's place in elvin society. He preferred the easy comfort of the barn and its inhabitants, but he could not say no to the captain every time he was asked for his presence. He would appear ungrateful. He'd felt obligated to accept the kind man's hospitality.
Seated on either side of him were pretty young women dressed in rich fabrics. Their bodies were more exposed than he was used to. They giggled and flattered him, making his face redden. He had little experience of females and had too recently learned that the one he cared for most thought of him as a son, a feeling that would forever prevent her from seeing him the way he wished she would see him.
He was glad when the silver-haired woman across the table addressed him.
"If you don't mind me asking, what was it like living in the shadow realm? I've never really understood what people mean by that when they talk about where the fae were before Fae Day."
How could he describe the shadow realm to someone who had never experienced it? It was a long moment before he answered. "On your TV, I've seen stories about ghosts who walk the world. In the shadow realm, we were the ghosts, and we had no reality to back us except what was invested with magic. There was little food, and little drink. We starved from morning till night with only the magic of the Tree of Life sustaining us."
The heavy man at the woman's left stopped eating to say, "I don't believe it. No one could live like that. You're what, sixteen or seventeen years old? How could you grow up without food?" He started rhythmically shoveling food into his mouth again, but he continued looking at Avenall, his eyes demanding an answer.
"As I said, we starved, but we did not die. Those who wished to die without an act of violence had to state their desire to the Tree or it would go on sustaining them for their natural lifetimes. Some chose this path to the other side. My father told me my own mother ended her life this way and walked into the forest to die of exposure."
The silver-haired woman reached across the table and patted his hand gently, "Oh dear, that's so sad. I didn't mean to upset you. I just want to understand the fae better."
The man next to her stopped wolfing his food again to inject, "I don't believe a word of it. I think the fae are just playing us all for sympathy."
Avenall didn't have time to respond. The captain was standing now at the head of the table and addressed him. "Avenall, if you've finished dinner, I'd enjoy your company on a walk around the deck."
Glad to be rescued from the uncomfortable situation, Avenall was quick to bid his dinner partners goodbye. He was sure many fae would try to trick humans, but even so, the humans had no understanding that a good number of the fae blamed them for their captivity in the shadow realm. It had been, after all, a human who took everything away from the fae at a time when the races had been most at peace.
As he fell into step beside the captain, the captain said, "I'm sorry about what that passenger said. I should have chosen our dinner partners more carefully. It seems I mostly got it wrong. I didn't mean for you to be uncomfortable."
"If I am to be among humans, perhaps it is better not to be protected from what they believe. I find humans are much like elves despite their greater freedom to choose their own paths."
"What you described—surviving without food, drink, the basics of survival. That's how you lived?"
"Yes. But I grew up with privilege until my magic manifested, and we had a share of whatever was available. Plants and creatures invested with magic were solid in our realm and could be consumed, but there was not enough to go around. My father is an important man in our society. Eldest of an influential council of elders. In our culture, "elder" no longer refers to age, although it once did. He is still a young man in a
position that can be obtained through battle, influence, or wealth." He didn't add that his father purchased his position and may have poisoned his way to the top after that. It is what the servants said, anyway, when no one thought their master's son was within hearing distance.
Captain Collins took his leave at the base of the pool deck stairs. "I think I'll miss you when you're gone. I'll always be happy to find a berth for you if you want to travel with us again."
As he watched the captain walk away, Avenall knew he would never again travel with him. He would not leave the dragons. They were now the only family he had, and a ship was no home for them.
***
Avenall woke early as the gray light of false dawn lit the darkness. The dragons were restless. He could feel Fein pushing at his mind. He opened himself. Through Fein's eyes, he saw the tiniest glimpse of land on the horizon. They were nearly to the queen's land. It was time for them to depart.
He gave the dragons leave to fish and feed while he went himself to the large open room where humans congregated for their meals. He filled a rough cloth bag with enough bread, cheese, and canned liquids to keep him fed for the rest of his journey. If he was right, they could make it to the queen's village in two long days of flight. Avenall felt secure the dragons could do this. They were thoroughly rested and fed, and it would be no hardship for them in this condition.
Avenall returned to the upper deck and lashed his store of food into the larger pack he strapped securely to the pommel of his saddle. He unpacked the extra furs he would need to wear for warmth as they traveled farther north, then walked across the deck to visit the captain where he commanded the ship.
When Captain Collins saw Avenall peering through the bridge windows, he smiled, then walked to the door and onto the deck to greet the young elf. "Morning. How'd you sleep?"
"I am well rested, thank you. But the dragons can see the land now, and they are eager to return to flight. I would not hold them longer, but I will miss your hospitality and friendship."
"And I'll miss you, too, kid. Are you sure you can't stay until we disembark? There are a lot of people on shore who'd be pleased to meet you."
"No, I have a purpose in this trip. And it's time to continue it the way we started."
The captain offered his hand. "It's goodbye, then. Have a safe trip. And good luck."
Collins watched the elf walk away. He truly liked the kid—who wouldn't? But that was one heck of a meal ticket he was letting escape. His ship was going to be less interesting to the media from now on, even if he could manage a few perks due to the interviews he already had lined up.
The media had started calling this trip "The Dragon Cruise", and he wasn't going to disappoint anyone by telling tame tales of dragons lazing around on the pool deck and fishing off the stern. He was already working up something much more interesting from Avenall's stories of his father and his experiences in the shadow realm. People didn't need to hear how calm the dragons had been. Dragons aren't always calm. Stretching the truth a little never hurt anybody.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Up In The Air, Junior Birdman
In the cafeteria, Tanji sat down and shoved her phone in Lizbet's hand before opening her pack and pulling out the lunch bag which contained her daily regimen of magic-enhancing foods. She said, "There's your boy. Looks like he left the ship and was last reported flying the friendly skies over West Virginia. Spent the night at an 'undisclosed location'. I guess that means the vultures lost track of him at some point. Looks like he's almost here."
Lizbet watched the newscast until Tanji pulled the phone away again. Before she did, Avenall's oh-so-familiar face appeared, then disappeared as an image of the dragons flying overhead filled the small screen. The female newsperson was a little too squee about it for Lizbet to think it was actually news. More likely she was just into the whole idea of dragons and hot-looking elves. Both had become fashionable in the media since Fae Day. Any elf, but particularly one who brought along a herd of dragons, could write his own ticket in Hollywood. She hoped Avenall wasn't one of those fae.
No, of course he's not. She rejected the idea completely as she wrinkled her nose in distaste watching Tanji scarf down a spoonful of what looked like baby food. He'd have nothing to do with it. She was assuming that his basic personality had persisted through his reincarnations as Thomas's had. Although she had no proof of it, she believed that Thomas would always do harm because he viewed the world through a single-focus lens like Faolan had done. She also believed that Avenall would always do good because he was as just and thoughtful as Arthur.
Tanji held a spoonful of mashed ick out to her. "You want some of this? Builds up your healing essence."
Lizbet's lips curled in disgust. "Uh, no. It smells like dirty toenails. There's no way I want to be greeting Avenall with that on my breath. It looks like he's going to be here in like five hours, so I'll need to go meet him then. Are you sure your dad's still okay with sticking the dragons out in the barn at your grandfather's old place?"
"Sure. As long as you're still giving the royal guarantee the dragons won't eat the gnomes."
"I am. Avenall said the only reason dragons ever ate gnomes was because the elves made them do it. Apparently, elves don't like gnomes in their gardens any more than anyone else does. It was also good practice for other two-legged creatures they might decide to battle."
"Then you're good to go. Dad cleaned it up a little and made some room. Gramps kept all his junky old 'classic cars' in there, so it's probably big enough for a bunch of dragons and one fine-looking elf."
Lizbet backhanded her friend gently on the shoulder. "Really? Don't you ever give it a rest?"
"Why? You have a problem with this guy? You can tell me to find someone who's more like me all you want, but if I have to wait around for a mixed race, mixed species guy whose parents are going through a divorce, I'm not going to be doing a lot of dating."
Lizbet shook her head. She was more than happy to give Tanji's new crush her BFF stamp of approval as long as it helped her get over the last one. "You know what? I really don't have a problem. Go for it. Just try not to overwhelm him, right? He doesn't just come from a different place. He comes from, like, a whole different time that modern countries mostly left behind centuries ago."
***
Lizbet and Tanji met up at the bottom of the stairs, hugging the wall to avoid the steady stream of students happy to be heading away from school. "Can you meet us at the barn? I'll give you a call and let you know when we're going to get there."
"Sure. Or I'll just watch it on the news."
"Yeah, there's that. Let's hope they don't figure out where he's landing, or it will be a whole other circus."
There were a lot of kids still hanging around in the parking lot, so Lizbet walked around the side of the school to be out of sight for her disappearing act and to pop her wings out in advance so she'd fly instead of fall when she got there. Even though she'd done it dozens and dozens of times, she was still the tiniest bit afraid she'd disappear into the aether and never be heard from again. But everything went fine. She thought of going to where she'd seen Avenall and poof! Just like that, she was there.
The dragons startled when she appeared suddenly off to the side of their flight path with her scarf and wings flapping. They veered sharply at the same time, synchronized in their movements. Avenall rocked in his seat and grabbed onto the saddle just in time to prevent being spilled off the side.
In the moment before the dragons veered away, she saw him as Morgan had seen Arthur many times: pensive, regal, and intelligent. Despite his young age, he had a look of world-weariness. She had no doubt that this Avenall was her Arthur. She would trust him with her life. There was no doubt at all.
When the dragons calmed, Lizbet flew closer to Avenall and pulled the scarf away from her mouth so that she could talk to him more easily. Even then, she and the dragons were moving swiftly, and she was unsure her words would reach him before they blew away.
<
br /> "I was going to fly along with you, but it's too cold for me. How can you stand it?" She mimed hugging herself for warmth and shivered as she flew.
Avenall nodded his head. He understood about the cold. Beneath his furs, his hands were icy and his ears felt like they would never be warm again.
She continued. "I'm going to aether myself a little ahead for each step along the way. Just head for me. I'll be a marker for the way to go." She demonstrated what she meant by disappearing and then reappearing several hundred feet in front of the dragon's flight path. She beckoned to them. Although the dragons startled again, Avenall was prepared this time and quickly soothed them as he sent the message to find the girl as she disappeared and reappeared. Soon, they understood and followed this strange beacon as it flashed off and on, leading them onward.
***
Lizbet put herself back on the ground for a couple of minutes to give a quick call to Tanji. She had no interest in dropping her phone from flying height. "Yeah, Tanj, about half an hour. See you there." Then she projected herself into the sky again.
What a life, she thought. I'm using something I don't understand to travel through the air so that I can guide a gaggle of dragons to a barn where my best friend's father relocates the gnomes and pixies he gathers. And for what? To try to find a person who turned into a tree and heal her before she dies from an arrow wound. Really? And I used to think physics class was a challenge.
Soon, she was just above the barn. She floated down toward it slowly, hoping Avenall would catch the hint that this was the place to land. He did.
As she headed for the ground followed by the dragons, she saw Tanji pull her car up in front of the barn and get out, then stand there, looking up and saying what looked like "Wow" over and over again, with a probable "Yike!" thrown in for good measure. Mr. Ross exited from the passenger side, and his actions matched his daughter's except with more wows. Lizbet was glad somebody was getting a kick out of this. Because she was exhausted and freezing and could hardly wait to get back home and take a hot shower so she could feel her toes again.