In Other Lands

by Sarah Rees Brennan

  This meant the official neutrality and private distrust between humans and dwarves had now become open enmity. Myra took to wearing her hair loose, hiding behind it like a veil, and slinking around the classrooms as if expecting to be hit.

  Elliot might at this point have slightly broken into Commander Rayburn’s office and found a large file of deeds and treaties that he confiscated and took with him to the library, where he sat studying them and trying to project an air of innocence. This worked until Serene came to drag him out to Luke’s next Trigon game.

  “I have no time to bother with Luke’s stupid game,” said Elliot.

  “Sure, all right, we’re going anyway,” said Serene, who was the most wonderful girl in the world but sometimes did not listen. She went over to grab Elliot’s arm, and as she did her eye fell on the papers. “Elliot,” she asked after a moment’s pause, her voice heavy with foreboding. “What are these, and where did you get them?”

  “Ahhh . . .,” said Elliot, reluctant to incriminate himself, and then stuffed the document he had been staring at for ten minutes in her hands.

  The treaty which sealed the alliance between the elves and the dwarves, in which the dwarves pledged treasure and the elves pledged land. The very land which the elves were now claiming was theirs.

  Everybody had seen the deed that proved the elves had originally owned the land. Nobody had seen this treaty.

  “My people believe the land rightfully belongs to them,” said Serene. “They would go to war for nothing less. We will not break any word, once given. If we knew of this document, we would never have agreed to fight. This war would bring us dishonor.”

  “Yeah, I kind of figured,” said Elliot.

  “Perhaps this treaty was overlooked by mischance.”

  “Yeeeeeeah,” Elliot said. “Perchance. Would you bet your honor on it?”

  “I would not,” Serene replied at last. “Would you go fetch Luke?”

  “Why can’t you go fetch Luke?”

  “I’d rather someone found me with the documents than you,” said Serene, and smiled a wolfish smile. “They can’t take them from me. Well, they’d be welcome to try.”

  “Okay,” said Elliot. He got up and dashed for the Trigon pitch, hoping against hope that Luke had been knocked out early.

  Of course Elliot could never be that lucky. The Trigon game was in full swing, the stands full, and Luke still playing. Elliot had to dodge several interfering people in order to make his way onto the pitch.

  “Uh, you’re not meant to be here . . .,” said Dale Wavechaser. “Uh, maybe you could wish Luke luck after the game, or something . . . ?”

  Elliot waved him away.

  “Only we’re really close to winning . . .,” Dale said, and his voice was faintly pleading. “Against the fifth years.”

  “That’s nice for you,” Elliot remarked. “Also disappointing for you in a minute, I suppose.” He whistled. “Oi, Luke!”

  Luke looked around, smiled to show his appreciation for the support, and gestured for Elliot to get off the pitch. Elliot shook his head vehemently to indicate that he was not supporting at all, and beckoned. Luke looked upset and shook his head. Elliot nodded insistently, beckoned again, and walked off.

  He heard the chorus of groans and booing as he left the pitch, suspected he was going to be even less popular from now on, and was not terribly surprised when Luke caught up with him outside the pitch, breathing hard and disgustingly sweaty.

  Elliot wrinkled his nose and pushed at Luke’s shoulder. “Please stand farther away from me.”

  “This had better be important,” said Luke. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to let down the whole team, in front of everybody, because you whistled and beckoned? I’m not your dog.”

  Elliot suspected the whole camp would blame him and still love Luke, so he didn’t see what Luke’s problem was.

  “And yet you came,” he said. “Come on, Serene’s waiting in the library. It actually is important.”

  “The library,” said Luke, and sighed. “Wonderful.”

  He stopped complaining when they got to the library and Serene showed him the treaty.

  Luke did not even suggest that the commander might have missed seeing the deed, and they should point it out to him and trust the matter would be settled. Maybe the commander had missed it, but they couldn’t be sure.

  “What would happen if we showed this to Captain Woodsinger?” Elliot ventured.

  “She’s loyal to the commander,” Serene said. “We can’t risk it.”

  They had to go to someone who had something to lose.

  Luckily, Serene had a plan.

  “I’ve been thinking since you were gone. We need to get quickly to someone who will believe us. One of my kinswomen is in a troop to the far north of this wood.”

  Elliot met her calm gaze, glanced at Luke, saw them glance at each other, and they all reached an accord.

  “Then it’s settled,” said Elliot. “We go to the elves.”

  They left as soon as they had gathered up a few necessities: rolled-up blankets and dried provisions and one or two books Elliot could not be parted from. It was barely dark when they went, but Elliot hoped it was dark enough that they would not be missed until morning. They left pillows arranged in the shape of bodies under their sheets, which was fairly basic subterfuge, but the captains didn’t check the younger ones’ beds as carefully as they did the older ones’, on account of indecency and lewd behaviour.

  “I would have thought the girls of the camp would be more careful not to dishonor the boys,” said Serene when Elliot explained this, deeply shocked. “The boys are already fighters, which cannot be pleasing to prospective wives, and if they are ruined on top of it, who will marry them?”

  There was an embarrassed silence in the hush of the woods as they walked along.

  “Kind of works differently for humans, again,” said Luke.

  “Is human biology so different to elvish, then?” Serene asked with interest.

  “Beg pardon?” said Luke.

  “Well, elvish women are driven by powerful lusts that men cannot understand,” Serene said in matter-of-fact tones.

  “Let’s just leave it at that, shall we!” Luke implored.

  “Please go on, Serene, don’t stop, this is very interesting,” said Elliot.

  “Once a woman’s passion is roused it can be very difficult for her to stop until the act of love is completed,” said Serene. “Preferably several times over. How can an innocent man understand such desires? As I understand it, men are completely exhausted when they complete the act of love once.”

  “Well, not completely!” said Elliot.

  “After the first flush of youth,” Serene said sadly, “men are only able to perform the act once a night.”

  “Please talk about something else or maybe kill me,” said Luke. “I don’t want to live in this world any more.”

  “Thus, necessarily, a man must perform attentions upon a woman when he is no longer aroused, which is why for a man such acts are more about feelings of the heart than of other areas,” said Serene. “Else how can a woman be satisfied with just one man? Of course, the elves in the eastern woods have different arrangements—”

  “You know what would be amazing?” Luke said. “If we were kidnapped, bound, and gagged—the gagged bit is really important—and put to death by brigands like right now. Right now. Brigands!”

  He looked around. The woods at night offered the hoot of an owl, and the rustle of leaves in a breeze, but no brigands.

  “We’re sharing differing cultural points of view and information,” Elliot remarked. “No need to be such a prude.”

  “Come now. It’s natural for a young pure gentleman to be abashed by such discussions,” said Serene. “Forgive me for being so frank with you and putting you to the blush, Luke.”

  “I am not blushing!”

  Elliot peered in the gloom. “He’s definitely blushing,” he reported to the ni
ght air.

  “I’m just going to go wander into the undergrowth all alone,” Luke said in a flat voice. “If I’m lucky a warg might eat me. I hope so. Don’t come looking for me.”

  “Okay,” said Elliot. “Can I have your cloak before you go get eaten by a warg? I’m freezing.”

  Serene undid the clasp of her cloak and handed it over. Elliot accepted it with profuse thanks. Luke selfishly kept his cloak and did not wander off to be eaten by a warg, but nothing in this life was perfect.

  They went to sleep snuggled into the roots of a vast tree. Elliot woke up first in the early morning because his teeth were chattering, despite the fact that Luke had donated his cloak in the night. Stupid magic lands, stupid nature, his stupid body and its learned dependence on central heating. Serene and Luke were still sleeping soundly, holding hands, Serene’s long dark hair caught up with the tree roots.

  There was a little bird perched on the lowest branch of the tree. It had bright button-black eyes and a yellow beak and had tilted its head in an adorable manner. It looked as if it was definitely considering covering Serene and Luke with leaves.

  “I’m watching you, little bird,” Elliot said darkly. “Don’t even think about it.” He hugged his knees to his chest and waited for the others to wake up.

  When the others did wake, it was still early morning but a little brighter, the sky the colour of peach juice with light shining through it. Elliot could not believe he was drinking juice and eating fruit so much he thought about it in similes: he yearned for the food of his people, wrapped in foil and basically made of chemicals. Oh lost Coca-Cola, he mourned. Oh pizza, gone but not forgotten.

  First Luke yawned and stretched and rolled away from Serene, then Serene’s eyes opened. Her eyes were clear and she was alert in an instant, whereas Luke had to spend a whole lot of time looking dopey and rubbing his eyes. Elliot nobly refrained from teasing him.

  “Are we far enough away, do you think?” Serene asked Luke. Nobody asked Elliot’s opinion, Elliot noticed. Far enough away for what? What were they planning to do?

  He found out when Serene rummaged in her bag and brought out a horn, made of bone and delicately carved. She blew on it gently, and the sound went rushing through the trees as if there were windchimes hanging from every bough.

  In a few moments, sooner than Elliot would have dreamed possible, came the response. Through the trees in a shining cavalcade and a patter of hooves lighter than falling leaves, wheeling and turning in a perfect circle like birds whose flight patterns were guided by sheer instinct into absolute smoothness, came the elves. In the lead was a woman beautiful as the dawn and calm as a lake nobody had ever even breathed on. Her gray eyes widened as she recognized Serene.

  “Hail, kinswoman, Swift-Arrows-in-the-Chaos-of-Battle!” called Serene.

  “Hail, kinswoman, Serene-Heart-in-the-Chaos-of-Battle,” Swift returned, and then a smile split her grave sweet face. “Out in the woods with a couple of boys?” she asked. “Why, you little rogue!”

  “Ma’am, it is not at all what you assume,” said Serene. “They’re decent gentlemen, I assure you. Human ways are different, and besides, this is an emergency.”

  “That’s what all the young girls say when it comes to dalliances in the woods with trollops,” said one of the other elves, and Elliot gave an indignant squawk.

  “Two of them, as well,” said Swift, who had Serene’s fine bones and translucently pale skin, though her braided hair was chestnut, much lighter than Serene’s, and her expression was mischievous. “Certainly your mother’s daughter. Chip off the old wood block.”

  “Ma’am, Luke Sunborn is my swordsister,” Serene said severely. “We swore the holy oath, over a tree trunk by moonlight.”

  “What, a boy?” said yet another of the elves, the youngest by all appearances, with rippling gold hair, and she let out a rippling laugh to match it. “Who ever heard of such a thing?”

  Elliot was even more indignant about this evidence that the ritual had been extremely complicated and meaningful than he was about being called a trollop.

  Luke sidled closer to him and murmured in his ear: “Can you understand them? I do not like the way they are looking at us!”

  “Of course I can understand them. What, you don’t even know elvish?” Elliot asked. “Fine swordsister you are.”

  “What?” Luke asked, and Elliot snickered. After an exasperated pause, Luke said: “What are they saying?”

  “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “Quite, quite sure?”

  “Yes!”

  “Well, if you’re really sure,” Elliot said blandly. “That one with the black braid just said you were a pretty, pretty thing and looked like you’d be a fun afternoon.”

  Luke went a slow, horrified scarlet. Elliot beamed.

  “But the undersized one,” said Swift. “I’m not sure of the appeal. With the wild garish hair—carrots, my dear—and the squinty look.”

  The blond elf snickered and said a single word.

  “Deh’rit,” Luke whispered, triumphantly. “She looked right at you and she said it! What does that mean?”

  Elliot thought about lying and saying that it meant “totally awesome, very handsome, in a respectful way,” but he was hoping Luke would submit to elvish lessons very soon and lying was no way to begin teaching him.

  “Uh . . . the closest translation would be that she called me a bluestocking.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Um . . . like, a nerd,” said Elliot, and sighed. “Something along the lines of, someone who always has their nose buried in a book and who nobody wants to marry.”

  “Oh,” said Luke, and grinned. “Well, they’re not wrong on all counts then.”

  Elliot ignored him and concentrated on what the elves were saying. Tragically, Serene was still apparently involved in a conversation about whether Elliot and Luke were her wanton floozies.

  Swift continued eyeing Elliot in a way he found upsetting and insulting. “He must have a really great personality,” she said at last.

  “You know, I really don’t,” said Elliot, impatiently and in elvish.

  Swift looked a little rueful about being caught out, but not as embarrassed as Elliot had expected. She was still looking at him as if, after all, Elliot should accept that of course he’d hear comments like that about himself.

  The blond elf snickered and said: “Told you he was a bluestocking.” Luke perked up at the one elvish word he now knew. Elliot scowled at everybody.

  “Smile, sweetheart,” called the elf with the black braid.

  “Uh, I’m a total stranger and my whole family could’ve just died in a unicorn stampede,” said Elliot. “You don’t know. I don’t feel like smiling. What right do you have to tell me to?”

  Black braid rolled her eyes and sent her horse turning in a playful little circle. “Might want to get your boy to loosen up, Serene, or how is he ever going to be any—”

  At this point, Serene lost her temper and strung her bow. She held an arrow poised to fly at Swift’s face, her hands and her gaze steady.

  “They are my comrades,” she said. “I hold their honor as my own. One word more said to defame it, and I will consider that word a challenge.”

  The elvish troop stopped grinning and snickering. Elliot was briefly furious that it was Serene’s anger that got them to stop, but then he recalled how Luke could quell the boys at camp when it came to Serene in a way Serene herself could not. It was an uncomfortable thought and he did not like it, so he reached for the roll of parchment in his bag instead.

  “We actually come on a question of honor,” he said. “Unless you’d rather sit around and laugh at young boys all day long.”

  Swift’s face hardened. She jumped off her horse in one smooth motion and came striding through the grass toward them.

  Serene did not put her bow down. “First you apologize to my friends.”

  Elliot had the sudden crushi
ng realization that the adults were not going to be adults about this. Human adults had already messed things up by being greedy liars, and now elvish adults were going to be stubborn, and Serene was too good a friend to back down, and Luke did not understand what was going on and would be too direly embarrassed to be helpful if he did.

  Being obnoxious was not going to work.

  Elliot got out the treaty and waved it until Swift’s eyes went to it and her attention was on him.

  “I’m sorry if I was short with you,” he said, as if the elves hadn’t started it all. “It’s just that I’m so worried about this, and I thought that if we found you, you would know what to do!”

  Swift visibly wavered, to Elliot’s secret amazement.

  “I only want to do the right thing,” Elliot proceeded, and fixed Swift with a limpid gaze.

  “Of course,” said Swift, almost reluctantly. “Poor dear.”

  Elliot nodded with conviction and felt his stupid hair wave about all over the place. “Honor’s so important,” he said wistfully. “I wish I understood this paper better. But I am such a silly thing! I need guidance.”

  “What is Elliot saying,” Luke whispered to Serene, “and why does he look so weirdly upset?”

  Serene, clever girl and mistress of Elliot’s heart as she was, shushed him.

  “Oh,” said Swift. “I suppose we were a bit rough with you. Lot on our minds, you know? Womanly things. I’m sorry about that, little gentleman.”

  “Apology accepted,” said Elliot, and tried to smile in a winsome fashion. Serene put away her bow.

  Swift glanced from Serene to Elliot and back again. For a moment Elliot thought it was all over, but Swift grinned, as if Elliot being manipulative was only to be expected and a little charming.

  She slung her arm around Elliot’s shoulders. “Don’t you worry your pretty head about a thing,” she said consolingly. “The women are here to take care of you. How about you sit down with me and explain this piece of paper?”