Firefly Island, an Epic Fantasy

by Daniel Arenson

  Lale! Aeolia thought. So I really did see him!

  “We know, Taya,” Talin said. “He’s been following us for several days. I came here for your help catching him.”

  Taya became solemn. “He Lale, no? The man who kill my aunt.”

  Talin nodded, and Taya touched his cheek. She mumbled something soothing in Woodword.

  “Come,” Taya said, turning to Aeolia. “I help you catch him. I warrior now. Other warriors help too. I show you to pack.”

  She spun around and disappeared into the trees. Talin and Aeolia followed. Taya walked with wide strides—like a man’s—and Aeolia could barely keep up. She tried to doff her fear. Her plan was working. Lale was alone, Eeea had said. He had sparked violence in the Beastlands, and no doubt feared doing the same here, what with warriors like Taya, and so he had brought no soldiers. Now they would catch him. And then I can stop running, Aeolia thought. Then I can go find Joren. My brother. He is my brother, and I don’t care what anybody says.

  Taya stopped in a patch of beech. At first Aeolia was perplexed. Why had they stopped there? Then she saw movement in the trees, and she gasped. Forestfolk were standing all around, camouflaged in grass and leaves, blending into their surroundings. Aeolia had never seen such strange men, with tattoos on their cheeks, bones in their red beards, and flint spears in their hands.

  Taya approached one of the warriors, a burly man with a bear’s skull on his head. Aeolia knew at once this man was the leader. He was the strongest and tallest, and he beamed with the aura of command. When Taya finished talking to him, the man walked to stand before Aeolia. His chest and arms were very muscular, she thought, and his braided beard was thick.

  “Greetings, travelers,” the man said, his accent heavy.

  “You speak Northtalk!” Aeolia said, delighted. She was not surprised Talin’s relatives spoke the tongue, but she hadn’t expected other Forestfolk to know it.

  The man shrugged. “Clan once had Healer slaves, bought from troll for piles of fur, talk all the time.” He smiled. “Me is Uaua of the Aaee, Fang of this pack. And who you be, sweet girl?”

  Sweet girl indeed! No man had ever called her that before. But then, Aeolia had never met such a man as this chieftain, who stood as if his bare chest and wild braids were not animal but noble. And if she found his bold, approving stare embarrassing, she also found it heady. A giggly smile crept to her lips.

  “My name is Aeolia,” she said, “but no one calls me that, really. Talin always calls me Lia, but my brother, he always said Aeoly, and, well... you can call me whatever you want, I don’t mind, I—”

  Talin interjected in a dry voice. “I doubt our secret follower cares much about his quarry’s diminutives.”

  Aeolia bit her lip. She had forgotten her purpose completely. She nodded briskly. “We’re luring Lale, you see,” she explained to Uaua. “You know, the prince of Stonemark. I thought maybe, if you let us join you, you can catch him for hunting your guests. He’s worth a fortune of ransom, you know, and—”

  Uaua leaned close and hushed her with a finger to her lips. “Ransom money is good,” he said. “But sweet girl’s smile is gooder. Me bring for sweet girl Lale’s heart to eat, if only it make sweet girl smile.”

  Aeolia could not help but grin dumbly. “Isn’t that wonderful, Talin?”

  He said nothing.

  * * * * *

  He continued saying nothing most that day. The half-breed seemed to avoid Aeolia, and when she tried talking to him he answered laconically. Aeolia remembered what he had said, how they could never love. She wondered if that was the reason for his indifference. She watched him walking with the warriors, conversing with them heatedly in Woodword and not sparing her a glance. He’s probably planning how to catch Lale, Aeolia thought. After all, that’s why he’s with me. I am bait for him, that’s all. Bait and not a jot or tittle more. She felt a lump in her throat.

  When she heard crunching leaves behind her, she turned to see Taya regarding her with cool, green eyes. Aeolia had to tilt her head back just to see the tall woman’s face. Feathers were strewn through the warrior’s two orange braids, and boars’ tusks hung around her neck. Aeolia had always envisioned beauty as gowns and dainty jewels, but she could not deny there was a certain untamed charm to this woman’s garb and bold carriage.

  Taya said simply, “You is loving my cousin, yes?”

  Aeolia furrowed her brow. “Love Talin? What do you mean?”

  “You not know it yet. But you is loving him. I see.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Taya smiled lopsidedly. “You will.”

  “You sound like your mother.”

  Taya laughed. “I nothing like my mother.”

  “More than you know!”

  Taya shook her head. “Our paths in life are different. My magic different.”

  Aeolia remembered how Taya had been a large cat. She asked, “How do you... become animals?”

  “I am Forest’s Firechild.”

  Firechild! Aeolia opened her eyes wide. A Firechild was blessed by the fireflies, and had magic tenfold stronger than others of the same race. Like Sinther, for the Stonesons, able to become stone instead of merely controlling it. Like Lale claimed her to be for the Esirens. . . .

  “It must be wonderful,” Aeolia said, “becoming animals.”

  Taya shrugged. “It useful for warrior.”

  “You mean useful for fighting?”

  Taya nodded and told Aeolia a story of how she had joined the pack, besting Uaua by using her magic. She told it so funnily, that soon Aeolia was laughing.

  “And you turned into a fish?!” she asked, gleefully wrinkling her nose.

  “And remember,” Taya said, “he was... how you say? Half crab. I was ascared he is wanting to eat me.”

  Aeolia laughed, but then fell silent. Hesitantly, she asked, “What about the Esiren Firechild? Do you know what he or she can do?”

  Taya seemed startled. “You not know?”

  “No, I’m... kind of ignorant... in the ways of the world.”

  Taya glanced at the tattoo on Aeolia’s hand, and comprehension softened her eyes. Aeolia quickly withdrew her hand and lowered her head in embarrassment.

  Taya broke the awkward silence. “They can... how you say . . . merge minds. All Esirens can share thoughts. Esiren Firechild can share senses too. Big weapon.”

  “Why is that?” Aeolia asked.

  “You cannot hurt Esiren Firechild. You only hurt yourself.”

  Aeolia felt fear trickle into her belly. Pictures flashed through her mind, of a rat fleeing its own bites, of an ogre feeling his own blows. The only one able to hurt Sinther past his stone skin, Talin had said. No, it was impossible! Aeolia tightened her lips stubbornly. Impossible. She was Stonish, and Joren was her brother. He was!

  “Well,” she said to Taya, forcing a smile. “Tell me more of your adventures. Have you ever tried turning into a bird and flying?”

  “Ah, that is interesting story—” Taya began.

  “Taya!” The shout came from behind them.

  Aeolia and Taya turned to see Uaua approaching. The Fang stopped before Taya and spoke to her in Woodword. Taya nodded, smiled apologetically at Aeolia, and walked away into the trees.

  Uaua put his hand on Aeolia’s shoulder. “We go hunt Lale now,” he said. “Don’t worry, sweet girl, we catch him for you.”

  “Thank you,” she said. She found his smile pleasant, but his hand was a little heavy on her shoulder.

  He touched her hair, much like Talin had, only Uaua’s touch was rough.

  “You know,” he said, “I can bring you back to clan. Make you concubine. Many women would be honored.”

  Aeolia cast down her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, “I’m really flattered, but I’m going to live with my brother in Stonemark, you see.”

  Uaua moved closer. His stale breath blew against her face. His coarse fingers rubbed her cheek. “You are like real w
oman. Small. Quiet. Not like that Taya, who thinks herself a man.”

  Aeolia did not like his voice; it seemed almost dangerous. She was glad when Uaua turned and walked away, giving her a small wink as he left. She watched him disappear into the trees.

  Suddenly she noticed that Talin had disengaged himself from the warriors and stood under a hazel, watching her. Finally! Aeolia had thought he’d forgotten she existed. She ran through the fallen leaves to stand before him in a patch of mushrooms.

  “Talin!” she said. “Have you been avoiding me? I’ve hardly seen you today.”

  “Perhaps you were busy looking at someone else.”

  Aeolia frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “We all need you, don’t we, Lia? For revenge, or for money.” He looked at her. “But you were more to me, Lia. You were more than bait. But you only wanted my sword, didn’t you? And now you want his warriors. You find a stronger man to charm and leave the other with the bat of an eyelash. I saw how he touched your hair, Aeolia. Was it also ‘so warm’?”

  Aeolia understood, and it pinched her heart. What a fool she had been!

  “No,” she whispered. “No, I didn’t... I didn’t try to charm you, I... thought you liked me.”

  “I thought I did too.”

  His words hit her like a slap. She turned around lest he saw the tears that sprung into her eyes. By the time she dried them and turned back, he was gone.

  * * * * *

  Uaua returned the next day. Three of his warriors did not return with him.

  Aeolia quietly asked Taya what had happened.

  “He take us one by one,” Taya said, her voice flat. “Alone. Slice necks so quick no scream. But no worry. We hunt him again, this time all pack. We leave only some warriors here to protect you.”

  Aeolia stood watching as the warriors fixed their camouflage and hefted their spears. Spirit, she thought. Three people dead—because of her. It chilled her stomach. She saw Talin sharpen Stormshard, and realized he meant to go with them. Trepidation filled her. If something happened to Talin.... Aeolia wanted to beg him to stay, but knew he would ignore her. This was the moment he’d been living for since his childhood, his moment of revenge.

  And also the moment he ceases to need me, she thought. It filled her with a strange and poignant sadness.

  Within seconds the pack had vanished into the trees. Only five warriors remained to guard her. Before she could object, the five surrounded her, leaning on their spears, forming a cage around her.

  “There’s no need to be so protective,” Aeolia said.

  “We need protect you from Lale,” said one of the warriors, an albino with one ear. As Aeolia watched, he pulled a skin from his pouch and took a draft. Aeolia smelled spirits.

  “I need to go make water,” she said.

  “Then go here,” said the albino.

  Aeolia tried to push through the ring of warriors. They kept her safe inside.

  “Please let me go,” she said. “I want to go.”

  “We need protect you,” said the albino. He seemed to be the only one who spoke Northtalk.

  “I’ll be safer with Talin,” she said. “I want to go join him.”

  The warriors passed around the skin, taking long swigs. They muttered amongst themselves in Woodword. Aeolia heard the word “Esiren” interspersed in their conversation. Go to Esire where you belong, she could imagine them saying. Just like the boys. Just like her father, who had sold her.

  “Talin will hear of this,” she warned.

  “Talin never hear nothing again,” said the albino.

  “What do you mean?”

  The warrior produced a scroll from his pouch. “We find this on third dead warrior,” he said, and read slowly from the parchment. “‘A sack of golddrops for the Esiren.’” He grinned wickedly. “Much money.”

  Aeolia’s stomach knotted. Again she tried pushing past the circle, but the warriors held her fast.

  “Leave me alone!” she cried.

  Drooling, the albino drew his bone knife.

  Aeolia steeled herself, mustered her magic, and linked to the warrior. It was easier this time than the last two. She was too scared to have any qualms. Their minds merged, and she bit her cheek, hard. The albino screamed and dropped his knife into a pile of leaves. The other warriors unsheathed their own blades and drew closer. Aeolia released the link and stood firmly, prepared to fight as best she could.

  “Cease this!” Uaua commanded, emerging from the trees.

  Aeolia breathed with relief. Uaua had come to save her, just in time!

  “I told you no hand her in yet,” the Fang told his Claws, speaking Northtalk for her to understand. “Leave me and sweet girl alone. When I done with her, then we sell her.”

  Aeolia watched the warriors disappear into the trees. When they were alone, Uaua paced toward her, loosening his belt.

  “No,” Aeolia said. “No, Uaua, I don’t—”

  He slapped her. “You no talk.”

  Her cheek burned. Hissing words slipped past her lips. “Talin will kill you.”

  “Talin and Taya sent to be dead. They like you too much, make too much trouble. Now, now... calm down, me no hurt you. Me like Esirens. Like very much....”

  He shoved her to the ground. Aeolia suppressed a scream, knowing it would only alert Lale. She tried to fight, but Uaua pinned her shoulders down. She tried to reach the albino’s fallen knife, but it was too far. She arched her back, struggling wildly. She freed one arm and slashed her nails across Uaua’s face. He struck her backhanded, loosening a tooth in her jaw.

  Sudden rage filled her. She drew her magic. When Uaua slapped her again, Aeolia linked to him. He grunted, not understanding where the sudden pain came from. He hit her again, grunted again. Aeolia released the link and raised her knee into his stomach. As he doubled over she punched his nose.

  Suddenly, Uaua’s skin greened. His irises yellowed and his pupils narrowed. His arms slimmed and grew scales. His fists shrank and hardened, becoming snakes’ heads. Aeolia bit her lip with horror. Uaua wrapped one snake-arm around her throat, slowly constricting her.

  “Try that again,” he hissed in a buzzing, inhuman voice, “and I break your neck.”

  His forked tongue shot between sharp fangs and licked his chops. Aeolia grimaced in disgust. She tried wrestling, wishing she were strong as Taya, but her soft limbs could not resist him. Uaua’s one arm coiled around her thigh, spreading open her legs. The other snake tightened around her neck. She saw spots dancing before her eyes like fireflies. Blood dripped from his nose onto her chest. The fight began ebbing out of her. If only she could reach the knife!

  Then Aeolia had an idea.

  She feigned a submissive face. “Okay, Uaua, I give up,” she said.

  He leaned back, his slit pupils focusing on her.

  “Then why you still struggle?”

  “Because here are rocks and roots that hurt my back.” She tried to look shy. “Please, take me over there, in the pile of leaves.” The leaves where lay the blade....

  Blood dripped into his mouth as he grinned. He brought his jaws to her ear, and his forked tongue touched her when he spoke.

  “I knew you want this,” he hissed.

  He lifted her and tossed her into the leaves. She spread her arms over her head, waiting for him. Uaua lowered himself slowly. The albino’s knife entered his heart quickly.

  The blood washed her hands, like the blood of the ogre only half a moon ago. Aeolia winced. Again she had killed. But there was no time for guilt or mulling now. She rolled the dead man away and retrieved the knife. She allowed herself only a brief moment of relief before fear swept over her again. Talin and Taya were in danger. Lale was hiding in the trees. Aeolia stood, her feet wide apart, staring around wildly.

  “We are alone at last,” came a voice from the woods.

  Aeolia started with a yelp. She dashed into the opposite trees, her heart thrashing.

  “Why do you flee me, Aeoly?” The voic
e came from in front of her.

  Aeolia spun around, running madly, her hope trickling away. He was toying with her. A desperate cry fled her lips.

  “You have run too long,” the voice said soothingly. “You are tired. Come to me, let me relieve your weary head.”

  “Leave me alone!” she cried. “What do you want from me?”

  “Your life,” he answered, his voice coming from in front of her again.

  Aeolia turned and ran, stumbling over roots and rocks. The woods became tangled as ogres’ hair. Branches snagged her, roots tripped her, but still Aeolia ran, never looking back. On and on she raced, crashing through the foliage, swimming through an orange sea. Up ahead she saw a cluster of laurels. She dashed into one and hid in its leaves, panting.

  “Where are you hiding, little Aeoly?” she heard him say.

  Aeolia peeked through the leaves and saw him, his gray robes moving amid the bushes, gliding like a ghost. She remained still. He couldn’t see her. She dared hope he’d miss her and walk on.

  “Do you know how I first found you?” Lale asked, walking amid the bushes. “A man turned you into me, the only man who knew you are a Firechild.”

  Aeolia winced, his words like the blows of a cane.

  “He tells me many things, you see,” Lale said. “I am his best friend. He loves me better than he loves you, who had once been his fostered sister.”

  Tears burned in Aeolia’s eyes. Her mouth curved bitterly. Was it true? She remembered her dream. In that dream she had been adopted (found in a gutter?!), raised Stonish, and sold before discovering her true heritage. She remembered Eeea’s words. Not your brother in blood... Joren was not her brother. He had lied to her. Aeolia bit her trembling lip not to cry out loud.

  Lale continued speaking. “They call him Butcher Joren, I am told. Do you know how many thousands he’s killed? I have long lost count. He told me where you were, and do you know why? Because he will never find peace, Aeoly.... He will never find peace until you die.”

  Aeolia’s heart seemed to shatter inside her. “NO!” she screamed. “You lie!”

  Lale’s sword whirred at her. Aeolia leapt aside, and the blade caught in the bush. She began fleeing through the thick flora. Branches and bushes slapped her, cutting her face and arms.