by Wen Spencer
Louise wished she could laugh. Jillian was so fragile she couldn’t even weave a mask to hide behind. Laughter would have soothed her twin.
“I have no idea how we’re going to get you and the babies to Pittsburgh.” Jillian gripped Louise’s hand tightly. “We ran the luggage mules out of power getting all the gear through the caves, and there’s no way to recharge them. Crow Boy says there’s lots of oni moving through the woods around us; he’s afraid if we don’t travel fast and quietly, we won’t be able to avoid them. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Louise squeezed Jillian’s hands, trying to summon courage that she didn’t have anymore. It had all bled out when she was shot. It left a hollow space inside her, coated with a sick, cold dread that the babies were already dead and they were just moving icy remains around.
* * *
She’d lost track of time and, when she felt well enough to walk shakily out of the small cave they’d been camping in, was shocked. The leaves on the trees were tinged with fall oranges and yellows. Somehow, while she was too weak to notice, September had raced up to meet them.
The egglike nactka sat on a section of rock that had been polished to a mirrored surface and a large complex spell etched into the glass. The nactka sat at the center, wreathed in frost and mist. A small hut of wicker had been woven over both.
“How did Joy . . . ?” Louise trailed off, confounded by every part of the structure.
“I don’t know.” Jillian held on to her arm like she was afraid that Louise might fall over. It wasn’t a completely unreasonable fear. “And I don’t know how we’re going to move it.”
“Joy moved them once.” Louise clung to that idea. “She can move them again.”
“I don’t think even she can move them the whole way to the tengu village.”
“I mean onto something more portable. Like a shipping pallet.”
Jillian gave her a look that said she wasn’t sure that Louise was fully lucid.
“I’m brainstorming,” Louise said. “Work with me.”
Jillian sighed. “Okay. If we could get it onto the pallet, then we’d need wheels or something. Maybe use the ostriches—”
“We still have those?”
“God, yes. Joy dragged them through the caves.” Jillian glanced around. “They’re around here somewhere. They actually make good guard dogs against things like spiders and strangle vines. This would be so much easier if we’d been able to fit the hovercarts into the caves or we could make the ostriches fly . . .” She paused, squinting. “Do you think we could do that?”
“We could steal something that flies,” Louise said.
Jillian looked at her puzzled a moment, and then her eyes widened. “The gossamer call!”
* * *
They climbed up to the rocky outcrop at the top of the ridge. It was a clear summer afternoon and Pittsburgh was a break in the dense forest canopy on the horizon. The one thing they hadn’t packed was a powerful telescope. There was no way to tell if one of the massive living airships was docked over the airfield next to the enclaves. If there was, the whistle should be able to reach it. Everything the twins knew about Elfhome, however, suggested that the airships rarely traveled to the city. The common elves traveled via train. Only Windwolf and Sparrow ever arrived via gossamer.
Last the twins heard, the viceroy was at Aum Renau.
It was possible that the whistle could reach as far as the East Coast, but Louise doubted it.
Nor was there any guarantee that the gossamer would be unattended.
Louise pressed her hands together and prayed to any god that might be willing to listen. Please.
The whistle seemed dangerously loud and shrill when she blew the “come” command. A flock of birds flew up and something large crashed at the foot of the cliff, screened by the foliage. The twins squeaked and crouched down.
“What was that?” Jillian whispered.
Louise shrugged, heart hammering. Minutes passed and nothing emerged out of the forest. Cautiously, she stood up and blew a second “come.”
Crow Boy ghosted down beside them. One moment the sky had been empty and then he was settling silently on the rocky outcrop. Louise wondered how he did it; was it one of the ninja powers that Providence had given the yamabushi? There wasn’t even a noise from his metal fighting spurs on the bare rock. “How long before we know it isn’t coming?”
Louise winced. “An hour if there’s one in Pittsburgh. If we’re pulling one from the East Coast, it could take almost a day.”
“I’ll get the others ready.” Crow Boy sprang up into the air, black wings rustling as he unfurled them.
His confidence in her was at once calming and embarrassing.
* * *
An hour later, they spotted a gossamer floating toward them. The body glittered in the sun like a thousand diamonds. The sight of it took Louise’s breath away. None of the videos did justice to its massive size. It dwarfed any airplane she’d ever seen. The long wooden gondola slung under the beast was a comforting solid Wind Clan blue. Mooring ropes trailed down from the gondola’s underside.
“How are we going to anchor it?” Jillian asked quietly.
Louise breathed out a curse. “I’ll deal with the gossamer.” Louise gestured to the rocks and trees around them. “You set up temporary anchors.”
As Louise watched the gossamer approach, she tried to determine what else she might have forgotten. She planned to take the gossamer to the tengu village—probably scaring the daylights out of them—so probably sending Crow Boy on ahead would be wise.
As its massive shadow started to eclipse her, Louise played “hover” on the whistle.
Suddenly she was scooped off her feet in a fury of black wings. She squeaked in surprise as Crow Boy leapt backwards with her in his arms.
“What?”
“Back off!” Crow Boy growled, warding off an adult tengu male with his spar-sheathed feet.
“Yamabushi?”
“She is under my protection.”
“A human?” The male cocked his head to study Louise. “Wait—Tinker domi?”
“That isn’t domi.” A woman came floating down out of the sun. Hidden by the brilliance, she was only a warm voice and shadow of a female figure with wings arching like an umbrella above her.
Crow Boy gasped as if struck and lowered Louise to the ground. “Wai Sze!”
Louise gasped with recognition. She had seen this before. “You’re Mary Poppins!”
The female landed silently before them, black-winged and almond-eyed. She didn’t look at all like a British nanny. And yet, there was something very much like Louise’s dream. The female laughed with surprise and delight, “I am?”
“I dreamed of you. You are—were Mary Poppins.”
The female knelt down in front of Louise. “I’m Gracie Wong. Gracie Wong Dufae.” She took Louise’s hands in hers and gazed at them with wonder. “And you’re one of my beloved Leo’s babies. They said that there was just one of you, but I kept dreaming that there was a whole nest of you, still so young, needing me.”
Something inside of Louise released. She crumbled into Gracie’s arms and felt completely safe for the first time in months. Grief long buried deep inside her—too dangerous to release until now—roared out of her. The sorrow tore through her, hot and huge. She felt as if she would choke on it as it burst out of her chest, her throat far too tight and small to release it all. She clung to the safety she had glimpsed again and again in her dreams, desperately wanting to believe it was real.
“You’re safe, my little one, you’re safe.”
“I don’t know what to do!” Louise cried. Between painful sobs that tore through her, she tried to explain the whole horrible mess. Of the babies in danger of being thrown out and magical nactka and the nestlings and how their siblings were now trapped within the protective spell on the polished stone.
“I would bear them if I could. I loved Leo so much. Nothing wou
ld bring me greater joy than to have his children.”
With a loud rustle of wings, another tengu female came flying in from the southwest. “There’s a major force of oni not far from here. They’ve spotted the gossamer and are coming to investigate. If they have human weapons, the ship is too big a target to miss.”
“Get the children onto the airship,” Crow Boy ordered. He scooped up Jillian and launched himself up into the air. Jillian’s yelp of surprise trailed after them as he flapped upwards.
There was a thunder of wings as the tengu adults swooped down, snatched up the children, and carried them upwards to the waiting ship.
“We need to move the babies!” Louise stepped back to avoid being carried off. “Joy! Joy!”
The baby dragon appeared on Gracie’s shoulder. “Hello, who’s there? Oh! Providence!”
“Be nice!” Louise carefully took Joy from Gracie’s shoulder, mindful of Joy’s claws. “She’s here to help us. We need to move the babies.”
“Move?” Joy said doubtfully.
“Oni are coming!” Louise pointed to the east where birds rose up, scattered by something moving unseen in the dense forest. “We have to leave. You need to move the babies.”
Joy eyed Louise for a long moment, as if totally confounded by the request.
“Please, Joy. The babies love you so much, and they’re totally helpless right now. You need to help them or the oni will find them and . . .” The possibilities were too awful to say.
Joy sat back on her haunches, mane bristling out like it was filled with static electricity. She puffed up like a balloon and then howled. The sound rushed up the scale from a low rumble to a sonic shrill shriek. For a mile in all directions, startled birds flew up into the air. Overhead, the gossamer shied away.
Louise stuck her fingers into her ears, but she could still feel the sound in her bones. All the hairs on her arms raised up, and her hair felt like it was trying to stand on end. “Joy! What are you—?”
The rest of the sentence caught in Louise’s throat as the gleaming ghost of a dragon appeared in front of her. Its hide was a deep gold to Joy’s dusky rose color. Its mouth moved and Louise felt ripples of something move across her skin. But she heard nothing—only the wind rushing over the hilltop.
“Providence!” Gracie whispered with surprise.
Joy waved both paws at the ghost and launched into a tirade in some language that Louise had never heard before. The baby dragon threw in hand gestures she had obviously learned off the streets of New York and a butt wiggle.
There was loud rush of wind and a second dragon appeared, this one blood red and smaller. Smaller being relative—it looked nearly fifteen feet long from whiskered nose to crocodile-like spiked tail. Its eyebrows lifted with surprise at the sight of Joy and Louise. When it leaned in to press a paw to Louise’s chest (scaring her by its sheer size), Joy smacked its paw away.
“Mine!” Joy plastered herself to the side of Louise’s head.
“This is Impatience.” Gracie whispered an introduction. “He’s—he’s—helpful.”
Joy renewed her tirade. Louise guessed that the baby dragon had summoned the dragons to ask for their help. Louise wasn’t sure it would actually work; Joy was being extremely rude.
The conversation came to a sudden halt as all three dragons turned to eye Gracie.
The tengu woman looked surprised and then nodded, replying in their flowing language.
Crow Boy landed silently beside Louise and knelt down in respect to Providence. He listened for a moment and his eyes widened and he gave Gracie a worried look.
“What’s going on?” Louise whispered. “The oni are coming! We don’t have time to stand around and talk!”
Conversation stopped again as everyone focused on her.
Louise squeaked in surprise. “What?”
Providence pointed a long clawed finger at her and then flicked it up, toward the gossamer.
Crow Boy bowed his head low and rose, scooping up Louise.
“Hey!” Louise cried as Joy leapt to Gracie’s shoulder. “Wait! Are they going to move the babies?”
“Yes, they are.” Crow Boy vaulted upwards, unfurling his great black wings. “We must be ready to leave as soon as they do.”
Louise glanced back down at Gracie and gasped. The tengu woman blazed as if crafted from light. “What are they doing to her?”
“She agreed to be the babies’ surrogate mother.”
“She said she couldn’t.”
“They are making it so she can. Joy needed Providence’s permission to use his dream crow.”
A mote of light wafted from where the broken nactka sat to the gathering of dragons. It merged with Gracie.
Louise went limp in Crow Boy’s arms as he winged upwards. It was done. For better or worse, the babies were on their way to becoming real.
“I still say it’s a little creepy,” Jillian said sleepily.
Open warfare between the elves and oni had spilled into the streets of Pittsburgh. The tengu had allied with Alexander, hence the reference to “Tinker domi.” Hours before the twins had stolen the gossamer, however, Alexander had gone into hiding. Until Alexander resurfaced, the tengu wanted to keep the girls and the babies safely hidden. So the twins were living with Gracie at the tengus’ secret village.
Gracie had a little house, two hundred feet up a massive old ironwood tree. It was charming until the twins realized it had no Internet and its meager power came from a mix of tiny windmills and solar panels. There was no refrigerator or television or even electric lights.
After dark, they were only permitted elf shines that drifted about the room like fireflies. Enchanting, unless you actually wanted to see something. There wasn’t much that they could do after dusk except talk and sleep.
Not that Louise really minded: the enforced rest was healing. Jillian stopped hiding behind masks and stated hard truths in her own voice.
And yes, their siblings’ eggs were a little creepy.
They had been in the tengu village only a day before Gracie started to lay the four eggs. The eggs were a beautiful shade of sky blue with black speckles. They were also surprisingly large for having come out of petite Gracie Wong. Not that the twins saw the actual laying. They had been busy exploring the tengu village. While the twins delighted in the countless wide-scattered tree houses, the aerial gardens, and the cunningly hidden subterranean community baths and bakeries, Gracie laid the eggs, one at a time. They’d return from their explorations to find another egg had been added to the blanket-lined, temperature-controlled, nesting box until there were four.
And Louise was fine with that arrangement. She’d seen her own birth enough times—thanks to the video their parents had made—to know that the event was probably stressfully painful and icky. The twins really weren’t up to experiencing that four times with a total stranger.
“How can we know it’s really”—Jillian yawned deeply—“them?”
“It’s them.” Louise touched each lightly. “This is Green. This is Red. This is Nikola. And this is Chuck.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Completely. Totally. It was an amazing, wonderful feeling.
Jillian lay back on the floor beside the nesting box. “We should get a marker and write their initials on them. Little smiley faces. Except Chuck. She gets fangs or something.”
“I wonder if they’ll remember anything,” Louise said.
“I hope they don’t. I hope they forget it all. If nothing else, I think Chuck would be mad to find out that she can’t pick her gender.”
Louise laughed.
Joy appeared at the edge of the nesting box, a fabric bag clutched in her front paws. “Cookies!”
“What kind?” Louise took the bag and untied it. “Oh, awesome, rugelach!”
Jillian took one and tasted it. “Oh! These are super awesome rugelach.”
They were probably the best ones Louise had ever tasted, pure buttery bliss in one mouthful.
“Nom, nom, nom.” Joy stuffed one into her mouth. That she only took one meant that Miao the baker had probably given her several dozen in addition to the bag for the twins.
Jillian took three more, trying to make sure Joy didn’t eat them all. “Why in the world are the tengu making Jewish cookies?”
“Because Miao learned to bake in Brooklyn.” And Miao was super nice to them because they were Joy’s Chosen and Tinker domi’s little sisters and the dream crow’s foster children. And Louise had mentioned that rugelach were her favorite cookies. Obviously Miao was trying to make Louise happy.
After the indifference of Ming’s staff, the small act of kindness was cathartic. It made Louise glad that the room was so dim, so Jillian wouldn’t see the tears rolling down her cheeks. Jillian wouldn’t understand that Louise now felt safe enough to cry.
Joy licked clean her paws and climbed in with the eggs to sleep. In a matter of minutes, she was stretched out on her back, front paws on her full belly, gently snoring.
Even though it was stiflingly hot next to the nesting box, the twins lay bracketing it and ate rugelach and whispered about nothing more important than what they would name their baby sisters. The elf shines drifted through the darkness like fireflies as the night wind gently rocked the house.