“It’s going to rain, anyway,” he said inside her head.
“A change will be good.”
“It will rain for a long time.”
“Aha.” After a moment of silence, Elena turned to lie on her back with her hands behind her head, and studied the clouds.
“How can you tell?” she wondered.
He tried to explain in words. That did not work, just not quite.
“It’s in the air,” Wilbur tried to make her understand. She took a deep breath, letting the sweet smell of the air fill her lungs.
“It smells different,” he explained and drew a breath through his nostrils. It was impossible to describe that feeling. All of a sudden, she knew what was different. She could smell it. No, Wilbur could smell it and her senses picked it up.
“And the clouds are floating around differently. As if they were full of water. Which they are.”
“Aha.” It would have been much easier had he pointed at the clouds.
“You’re messing up my head,” Elena stated matter-of-factly.
“Sorry.”
With a quiet, hollow plop, a raindrop fell into the grass. Why, it is going to rain! She reached for the letter and stuck it into her pocket. Wilbur stretched out a wing, resting its tip on the ground, offering her cover. Elena crawled under the wing and leaned against his side. For a long time, they stayed motionless, talking, while heavy rain fell on Wilbur’s hide. Twilight began to set in.
“I must go, it’s getting late,” Elena apologized and Wilbur grunted his assent. It was a pity she’d left her coat back home.
“I will accompany you,” Wilbur offered and she laughed.
“No need for that, but it would be nice.” She crawled from under his wing and passing by, gently caressed the side of his nose. With the silent, light step of the elves, she started towards home. It was almost completely dark under the treetops, which were so dense that only an occasional drop of rain fell through them. Somewhere above her, flew Wilbur, skirting the trees so low she heard him brush the leaves with his talons from time to time.
The moment she passed the last trunks on the edge of the piazza, the dragon soared almost straight upwards.
“Good night, Beastie,” she heard his receding voice through the whisper of the rain.
“Good night!”
Elena was drenched to the bone before she reached her dwelling. Taking two steps at a time, she burst through her door, finally stopping in the middle of the room. Satisfied, she noticed her run had left her only mildly out of breath. Something moved and her ears picked up an almost inaudible sound of little running feet. Miniature figures scattered through the dark room, heading for the wall. Some of them had pieces of various fruit bobbing above their heads. Elena jumped, and grabbed.
A kicking, squirming tiny figure stuck in her fingers. Even though the room was dark, she could see the pygmy quite well. She peered at it. Him. Luckily, gripping him the way, she did, she pinned his hands down to his body. Only his shoulders, neck, a bald head with a huge mustache under the nose, and legs with hobnailed boots stuck out of her hand. There was no doubt it was a he. A kicking, squirming and horribly swearing little man.
“Got you!” Elena proclaimed happily.
“Shucks, Gammer!” croaked the pygmy and bit her hand. She yelped, but this time, she was ready and managed not to let go. As she sat there, contemplating the urchin trying to free himself from her grip, a horde of pygmies appeared from nowhere and surrounded her. They were all armed. All were swinging little swords and battle-axes above their heads. Well, the weapons were little from Elena’s point of view, but judged by the size of the manikins, they carried heavy, double handed swords and axes. To Elena’s great surprise, it made the pygmies look quite dangerous. All were yelling at her, creating a deafening humbug.
“Nay, nay! Squab, bugrid!” a command sounded through the racket and slowly, everyone went quiet. Mesmerized, Elena watched them. While the brownie in her palm tried to free himself from her grip, she was trying to see as many details as possible, wishing it weren’t so dark. Every single pygmy was bald as a knee and had a huge mustache. All of them wore heavy hobnailed boots and all were armed to their teeth.
“Drop, Gammer!” whooped one of the manikins at her and stabbed her foot with his sword.
“Hey! Drop it!” she snapped at him. Light appeared,coming in through the window. Someone was walking up the stairs. The pygmy in her hand pushed his feet strongly against her fingers, forcing them open. The door opened. Light flooded the room. Elena turned.
“Michael, look!” when she turned back, not only her hand, but the whole room, were empty. Confused, Elena blinked. She turned her head right and left. Nothing, they were gone.
“Where have they gone to?” she asked, bewildered. Her hand hurt.
“Where’s who gone? What ya’ doing?” Michael closed the door behind him and busied himself with lighting torches around the room. She sat there, water dripping off of her. Her hair was droopy around her face, drenched clothes were sticking to her body.
“You frightened them away!” she scolded him.
“Who?”
“The pygmies. They’re short, bald, have mustaches you wouldn’t believe, and they are dressed in something brown and they have swords and heavy hobnailed boots.” Elena explained.
“Sure. And that’s why ya’re sitting on the floor dripping water.”
“And they call me Gammer, the dirty little brats,” Elena went on, not really paying attention to him. Michael offered her a hand and helped her to her feet.
“Gammer’s ya’ all over,” he grinned.
Elena gave him a look. “There was a whole horde of them, just so you know.” She sounded reproachful.
“ ‘m not arguing.”
“Aye, you just don’t believe me.” Elena frowned, absentmindedly massaging her sore hand. He shrugged.
“If you had a mustache, you’d look just like them,” Elena barked at him moodily, and he ran his hand over his bare skull.
“I ain’t no pygmy,” he commented.
“Hm.”
“Ya’re all wet.”
“Cause it’s raining outside, haven’t you noticed?” Michael was silent. Elena kept looking the room over. Finally she looked at him.
“They stole all the fruit again.”
“Go change so ya’ don’t get a fever. Ya’re rambling already.” Michael tried to talk some sense into her.
“You seriously didn’t see them?” she made sure.
He shook his head. “Nope, just heard a lot of ruckus.”
“See!” she threw out her arms and he smiled at her.
“I ain’t arguing! I haven’t seen a thing, but heard something. If ya’ say them were manikins, then them was manikins. Now go get changed,” Michael urged. Elena hand-saluted.
“Yes Mom.” Turning on her heal, she disappeared into her bedroom.
Michael surveyed the room. A few forgotten pieces of fruit were scattered all over the place, someone had knocked over a chair and he could have sworn the table stood crooked. Thinking about it, he had to admit that even he was missing things from time to time. He stood the chair up and gathered all the fruit.
“Llillam wants us to dine with him tonight,” he announced to the bedroom door. The sounds coming from behind it went silent. Elena halted with a shirt half pulled over her head.
“What?”
“Llillam wants us to dine with him tonight,” Michael repeated patiently. Her head appeared from behind the semi-opened door. She looked a bit like a shaggy dryad. A fussy one, at that.
“You mean I’m supposed to wear a dress,” Elena was shocked. Michael rolled his eyes.
“Ya’ asking me? I’m not an expert on girly stuff.”
“Er …”
“Doesn’t matter as long as it’s dry,” he tried to hurry her on a bit.
“Hm.” Her head disappeared again. He could hear her rummaging around.
“Just don’t fuss over it,” he
rolled his eyes.
“Easy for you to say!”
“We’re supposed to be there in fifteen,” Michael said almost calmly.
“What?” Elena panicked.
“Ya’ should get a move on that decision-making.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Cause ya’ didn’t let me,” he laughed.
“I don’t have anything for him!”
“So what? He just wants to see ya’”
“But …”
“No butts about it! Get dressed and stop chewing on it!” he cautioned her. Her grandfather made her nervous. Elves and their social protocol made things somewhat complicated. Elena had no clue how to behave around her new-found relative. She had a nagging feeling he was trying to avoid her. In fact, he was avoiding her. And now this? What did it all mean?!
Michael was surprised to see Elena change so quickly. Despite her efforts to look older, she still looked like a little, very nervous and anxious girl, wearing dark green shirt and trousers, embroidered jerkin. She held a coat in her hand. Her hair was only partially dry, tied into an elegant fuzzed knot. In fact, she still looked even younger than her age. Michael grinned at her.
“What happened to the dress?” He was kidding her, but she took him quite seriously. She shuffled her feet.
“Well, Wilbur said it’s going to rain heavy and for a long time. A dress would get wet and muddy up to my knees,” she mumbled quietly.
“And ya’ don’t like to wear them,” he chuckled.
“No, that’s, well…” she began to defend herself and stopped. “Oh well, I don’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that a dress would get muddy and wet and therefore would lose a fair amount of elegance.”
“OK, let’s go then, missy.”
She stuck out her tongue at him. Together, they walked into the rain.
◆◆◆
For lack of any other expression, Elena called her new home a city. It was, however more of a big settlement. Some elves lived in homes built inside huge living trees, others in spherical nest-like dwellings set up in the treetops, the rest in low shacks or neat houses spread among the trees. However, around the space Elena was used to calling it the square, lived very few. Most dwellings were spread throughout quite a large area, some accessible by paths paved with shells and pebbles, some only by narrow footworn paths. These houses were spread so far apart that none were within eyeshot of the others.
So far, Elena had spent most of her free time browsing the neighborhood, looking for different homes. Often she watched the elves perform their crafts from distance or, if she had timidly asked and was admitted inside the workshops, she would sit quietly in a corner with her knees and hands under her chin. But soon, the elves began to talk to her, mostly out of their own curiosity, obviously perceiving Elena as an interesting, exotic animal and subject to research. Elena did not mind much, since she was inquisitive and wanted to learn as much as possible. Before long, she dared to ask questions and to her surprise, got answers. Even though reluctant at first, the elves began not only answering her questions, but also explaining and showing her how to do things. With interest, they watched her try take part in their work. More so, she was a skillful child. Everything she tried, she did with a bemused, concentrated expression and quite a lot of resolve. Even though her skills could hardly be any match for the elves’ hundreds of years of practice and gained precision, Elena got over her initial failures and soon made sufficient progress.
These little trips of hers also led to her being quite familiar with all the paths and surroundings. It was useful now. Michael followed her silently. Along hardly visible paths, she led him to Llillam’s house. It was a lot faster than him trying to find the way. Llillam lived in a low oak cabin tucked quite far into the forest, away from all the other houses. A smithy occupied a large part of the house. Elena knew where to find it, even though she was well aware of not being welcome in her grandfather’s home, and was avoiding the cabin. Only sometimes, sitting under the trees, at a safe distance, she watched Llillam work.
Elena halted in front of the door. Not really sure what she was waiting for, she did not knock. Patiently, Michael waited with her.
“Come on, it’s raining,” he prompted gently, after a while. She turned her head to him, but he couldn’t see her expression because of the cape. Very quietly, she knocked. After a spell, the door opened. Elena took a breath to pronounce the required greeting, but stopped midword. Öron stood in the doorway. After a painful second, she remembered her good manners and said: “Good afternoon, may gods watch over this house.”
Öron said nothing, but made a complicated gesture with his hand and stepped aside to let them in. Elena entered. Michael followed, frowning at the elf. Since Öron treated Elena with open hostility, there was no love lost between the two guys.
They walked through a short passage and entered a fire lit room. A large, burnished table with simple chairs dominated the room. One of the corners was occupied by three armchairs and a divan, all very simple and practical, everything adapted to serve a huge man, whom Llillam undoubtedly was. The furniture’s simplicity and serviceability were in stark contrast with an obvious gentle woman’s touch. Valances and flower boxes decorated every window; the table had an embroidered tablecloth on it, and an ornamental cover protected the divan.
Surprised, Elena halted a few steps behind the door. Michael almost walked into her. By now, he should have been used to her doing that and should be taking it into account. The table was set for five. Not really knowing why, Elena realized that the evening would be more complicated than she had expected it to be. At the same time, she had a strange feeling, as if she just walked into … her home.
Coming from the wet cold outside, the room was nicely warm, thanks to a fire crackling in a huge hearth. A woman was bent over kettles hanging above the flames. With a slow, graceful motion, she straightened her back and turned to face the newcomers. Though she was rather short, for an elf, she was very slender, with bright green eyes. Shiny, straight, raven black hair cascaded almost to her knees, emphasizing her delicate features. As green as her eyes, was her long flowing dress, weaved with miniature ornaments only a shade lighter than the dress itself. In one word, she was striking. Her beauty was breathtaking. Standing behind Elena, Michael gasped with surprise.
The woman smiled an almost invisible smile limited only to her lips.
“Welcome to our home,” she greeted them and Elena bowed to her slightly. Inconspicuously, she nudged Michael in the ribs. He remembered himself and closed his mouth. Öron appeared from the corridor behind them. At the same time, Llillam walked through the door on the other side of the room. Quickly, the smith deposited the logs he carried by the fire and greeted them with a complicated gesture. Both children replied properly.
“You know my son Öron, I presume. This is my wife Írimë.” Llillam introduced his family. Michael was quite surprised how calmly Elena performed a gesture declaring her pleasure at meeting the woman. She even managed to smile. Her family affairs were getting considerably more complicated by the minute. At least it explained why Öron treated Elena with such hostility. What surprised Elena the most was that Írimë was willing to admit her, Elena, into her home. Not even amongst the Berber, did women take kindly to their rivals and most of all, to their offspring. Elena being a half human in the world of elves made things far, far worse.
◆◆◆
They sat down around the table. Írimë served a delicious smelling soup. With the usual complicated protocol out of the way, conversation began to drag, to say the least. Happy to have an excuse for the inadequate attempts at talk on her part, Elena began to eat. After several minutes of awkward near silence, conversation had just gotten under way when Llillam began asking questions about Elena’s education. Öron was silent, confining himself strictly to curt answers to questions directed to him. His face settled into a prickly, cactus-like expression. So much for elves not showing their emotions.
&nbs
p; Most likely it was because, for an elf, he was still a youngster. He couldn’t have been older than … Wait a moment, how old was Mother? Simply, he had to be younger than Ashka. Probably. Elena hoped. Did Ashky know she had a half-brother? That actually made him Elena’s uncle. Which meant, Írimë was Elena’s step-grandmother. The second course was served. At least the food was delicious. On the other hand, the thoughts running through Elena’s head were not only disturbing, but made communication that much harder.
Öron excused himself the moment he finished eating and disappeared into the rain. He was one of the forest sentinels and he was on duty tonight. While he wished fond farewells to his parents, he hardly nodded to Elena and Michael, which was the bare minimum he could do out of courtesy.
Llillam watched his granddaughter sitting with her arms folded, a strictly neutral, but thoughtful look on her face. Granddaughter. He rolled the word on his tongue. He really was far too young to be a grandfather. Even so, his grandchild was sitting opposite him; dangling her feet in the air, because the chair was far too high for her, thinking about gods knew what. Írimë was not happy to have her in the house. That, he understood, but blood was thicker than water. Despite all tradition and protocol.
Elena was thinking about heritage, about the birthright she carried in her blood, about the legacy of three nations. Considering the most recent events, it was more than probable there were quite a few matters, which she was being held in the dark about.
But, hopefully, she was a descendant of only three nations. Blood of the Berber, Adragon and elves circulated in her veins. She decided not to think about the dragons. Things were complicated enough even without them. Let’s concentrate on the theory of the three nations. Her whole life she had been forced to juggle the Berber and Adragon legacy, trying to make do with all the principles, believes, truths and laws that often contradicted each other. As if that weren’t enough, now elves had entered the picture and she was losing her grip. To a great extent, both Berber and Adragon were family people. With the elves, family was important also, though in a strange and maybe twisted way.
The Witch (Dragon Eyes Book 1) Page 15