Resurrection
A lone human woman knelt in front of the great stone hand, a four-fingered hand twice as tall as a human, anchored in a square base. She laid out a basket of fresh fruit and flowers, then raised her hands high and held them palms up. The sun slowly shifted over the rainforest canopy as she waited in silence.
She heard a rustle in the trees overhead. A slight, red-haired creature dropped down onto the base of the stone statue. No taller than a human child, her eyes were as large as a noctural hawk’s, and her ears were long and pointed – wing-tipped as the humans called them.
“Spirit!” the woman bowed her head. “Redcrown! I honour you!”
“Miu’na?” Spar asked. She straightened. “What is it?”
“I would not trouble you with petty matters, spirit.”
“I know. Your clan has always respected our boundaries, and we’re grateful for it. What troubles you now, that you seek our aid?”
“My sister, Miu’taresh. Her infant son is ill with a dread fever. I beg you–”
Spar bit her lip. “Spirit medicine does not always heal humans. But I’ll come with you and do what I can.”
Miu’na wept. “Oh, bless you, Redcrown.”
Spar leapt down to the ground next to the tall Ulu-roa woman. She bade Miu’na lead her, and the woman hurried down the lightly trodden path. In the fifty years since the great city of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho fell, the invading Hoan-G’Tay-Sho had fled north, leaving the Ulu-roa to return to their traditional ways. At least five clans had sprung up in the wake of the city’s fall, and now five villages clustered around the Forevergreen Holt Spar and Door had founded. Most were peaceful, the descendants of those Ulu-roa who had faithfully served Door during his enslavement by the Geo’kali. Others were less so, and Spar kept a firm hand on her knife as she padded along the trail. Men of the war-like Poison Arrow Clan often raided the farmlands of Miu’na’s Long Reed Clan. And the Poison Arrows had not forgiven the “Sky Spirit” for his supposed complicity with the priests of the Geo’kali.
She leapt into the trees as they reached the camp. “I’ll see you in your hut,” Spar said. She had no wish to be ambushed by superstitious humans. From the understory, she followed Miu’na’s footsteps into a small hut at the edge of the village. Dropping down from the trees, Spar slipped inside behind the woman.
Her sister Miu’taresh sat in the corner of the small hut, rocking the emaciated baby in her arms. A wiry human male, presumably the baby’s father, made warding gestures at the sight of the elf, but Spar ignored him.
“I beg you, spirit,” Miu’taresh sobbed. “As our grandmother Arua honoured you–”
“Hush,” Spar said. She took the baby into her arms. He was several months old, but starved to skin and bones. His skin was hot with fever.
“He will take no food and little water,” Miu’taresh said. “I... I have made a broth of three-cluster leaves for him, but what little he eats passes in watery movements–”
Spar noticed the signs of dehydration and malnutrion, and she held up her hand to stop the woman. “Are you nursing?”
The man sneered. “This baby needs fat and medicine broth! I told her: three-cluster leaves always takes away fever. But the baby has no will to live.”
“You haven’t been breast-feeding?” Spar demanded. “The cub needs mother’s milk, not your fat-and-sap broth! No wonder he passes all he eats. He cannot stomach something like this!” she indicated the broth. “No.” She handed the baby back to his mother. “No ‘medicine’ can improve on mother’s milk.”
“But his fever–”
“Eat the broth yourself. The healing sap will find its way into your milk.”
“Witchcraft!” the man sneered.
“Then feed him this poison and watch him die!” Spar shot back. “I tell you, cubs this little are not made to eat anything but mother’s milk. That goes for humans, wolves, spirits – all! Take the broth yourself, Miu’taresh. Nurse your son. He’ll recover his strength in his mother’s arms.”
“Thank you, spirit,” Miu’taresh wept. “My life is yours.”
“I don’t want your life,” Spar said, not unkindly. “Keep it for yourself.”
* * *
Spar returned to the holt as the sun was setting. Behind the ring of stone hands that signalled “spirit lands”, a stand of five tall flowering trees held a crude-shaped hut high above the forest floor. Spar smiled at the sight of her home. Her tree-shaping powers would never be more than rudimentarily. Still, draped in flowering vines and connected to nearby trees by a highway of knotted branches, the Forevergreen Holt was not without its beauty.
She found Kit sitting out on a little swing of braided vines beyond the landing platform of tree-shaped wood. The archer smiled at the sight of her old friend.
“Did you find out what the humans wanted?”
Spar nodded. “A mother and sick cubling, over at the Long Reed village.”
“Did you help?”
“I hope. Paugh! Humans haven’t the sense of grubber-pigs. They kill more often than heal with their potions.”
“They do what they can, I suppose,” Kit decided. “When you don’t have magic, you have to make up your own.”
Spar sat down next to Kit on the perch of vines. “So, where are those cracked Gliders we call our lifemates, hmm?”
“Littlefire’s not cracked!”
Spar sighed. Kit never could take a jest – any jest – about her fragile lifemate. “All right, where’s that cracked Glider I call my lifemate – and Littlefire.”
Kit giggled softly. “Inside.”
Spar crawled off the vine swing onto the landing, then parted the woven curtain that covered the doorway to the hut.
Inside the two Gliders sat on the woven reed mats that covered the floor of the hut. Door sat upright, his hands folded in his lap. Littlefire huddled against the far wall, his legs drawn up to his chest, his head turned towards the wall. Their eyes were closed, and they seemed almost frozen in their respective postures.
“What are they doing?” Spar wrinkled her nose.
“Sending. They’ve been like this since you went out hunting.”
“What are they sending about?”
Kit shrugged.
Spar looked at Littlefire. “Doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself.”
“Oh, he is. I haven’t seen him this relaxed in a long time.”
Spar frowned. “He’s relaxed? He looks strung tight enough to snap.”
“No twitches,” Kit added helpfully.
“Ahh.” Spar shook her head. Try as she might, she could never quite figure Littlefire out. “Where’s Aurek? And Vaya, for that matter? Are they off sending at statues too?”
“I think I saw Aurek in the garden. Haven’t seen Vaya for a while – I think she might have gone hunting too.”
Door stiffened suddenly, and slowly came out of his deep trance. He opened his eyes and saw Spar. “There you are, my precious. I was starting to worry.”
“Just visiting a few of our human friends,” Spar smiled fondly at his concern.
Littlefire slowly awoke from his own trance. He opened his eyes and flinched as he saw Spar and Kit. “S-s-startled me,” he stammered at Spar’s puzzled look.
“So what were you two sending about for so long?” Kit sat down next to Littlefire, taking his hand in hers.
Door slowly got to his feet and stretched. “Mh, my dear cousin was helping me revive some old memories from Blue Mountain... before everything went dark.”
Spar smiled again. Door always welcomed Aurek and Littlefire’s visits to the Forevergreen. A deep longing for family ran in her Fenn’s blood, and spending time with his uncle and cousin helped to coax free the elf he was before Winnowill enslaved him in his own mind. Several elves had been dubious that the former god of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho could be saved from Winnowill’s madness. But now, seven-eights after Sunstream first heard his cry for help, visitors to Spar’s miniature holt were often amazed by the transformation. Perhaps one day Door would even welcome an invitation to fly in the Palace, and make his peace with Winnowill’s spirit.
* * *
“I’m glad you’re here,” she told Aurek later that night as they stood on the lookout tower she had shaped high above the holt. The jungle was slumbering, yet with their sharp eyes they could clearly see four plumes of smoke rise up from forest clearings.
“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that human camp closer to your border since I was last here?” Aurek asked.
Spar nodded. “The Eagle Wing Clan. Ulu-roas seeded with third-generation Geo’kali servants. They haven’t given up hope of seeing Fenn return to be their captive god. But as long as they respect our boundary, Fenn is content.”
“He still longs for a community of elves and humans.”
“Aye,” Spar sighed. “And he won’t flee deeper into the rainforest.”
“The boundary is a good idea.”
“Savin’s idea, I’m sure you’ve recognized.”
“The Islanders have found a way to coexist with humans that surprises me even today. In my sendings with Fenn he is always pressing for more knowledge about the New Land.”
“Perhaps he’ll finally choose to come to the New Land and the Great Holt. It would be a better place for him than here. I don’t trust these humans. The Ulu-roa seemed meek as tree-sloths when I first came here. But as soon as the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho fled and they became their own masters... their own ugliness surfaced.”
“There is beauty and ugliness in all creatures. Yet it is a misfortune humans have evolved so far yet never managed to balance the two.”
A pause. Then: “He wants a new Blue Mountain, Spar. He cannot hear enough of my tales of the old days... before Lord Haken’s disappearance and Winnowill’s slow descent into madness.”
“I had always hoped that once we freed him from those dark dreams, he would stop longing for the moutain.” She shook her head. “A longing born of Winnowill’s manipulations. He looks for a new beating like a human’s battered near-wolf.”
“It’s more than that. Blue Mountain... ah, I remember the days, long ago. When I was a child I knew only joy. Before tragedy claimed my father and grandmother, before Winnowill lost her reason – oh, it was not the world of lords and slaves your chief knew. No, it was a community, a sanctuary for our kind where we could grow and thrive, safe from the dangers of the outside world.”
“You cannot isolate yourself inside rock.”
“Oh, I know, young Wolfrider. It’s a hard lesson, and one I learned well. But... it’s one I fear Fenn will have to learn in his own time.”
“He would be so happy in the Great Holt. Or in Sorrow’s End, with Savah and Windkin.”
“But this is all he has known for years. You must remember – all those centuries he was enslaved by Winnowill are nothing but a dark blur to him now. The majority of his waking life was spent here with the humans. You’ve helped him awaken to a world he never imagined, Spar. But seven-eights of years is not enough time to reshape his entire way of life.”
“I know. It’s... I don’t trust these humans. Oh, the women from the Long Reed Clan I helped today – they are no more dangerous than the grazing beasts of the lowlands. But the warlike clans are always spreading out into the jungle, taking more than they need, wanting more than they can have.”
“Is that not the way of all humans?”
“I thought I could understand humans once. Now...”
Aurek shrugged. “I’ve found them quite transparent in their motivations. They are like... the small rodents that live in the underbrush. Their hearts beat too fast. They know their lives are as fleeting as a candle flame, and they race to do all they can before death catches them. They hoard everything – food, riches, experiences – in fear of the endless winter. And they breed like flies to outnumber the hands of death.”
“A plague of locusts.”
“Yes. Very much so. And just as much a part of this world as the locust. And we must learn to live with them. But living with them does not always mean living alongside them.”
“Fenn still thinks of them as his children.”
“It’s a dangerous belief. But one he must be weaned from slowly. You can’t force him to leave, Spar. You knew that when you rescued him from the city seven-eights ago.”
“I know. But I’m worried.”
“Patience, young Wolfrider.” He touched her shoulder. “Haste is a human failing. What is time to us?”
Spar nodded.
The fragrant scent of roasted meat drifted over the landing and Aurek smiled. “I think Vaya has our meal ready.”
* * *
Littlefire awoke in the early morning hours. Day was just beginning dawn on the rainforest. He rolled over in bed and nudged Kit awake.
“Hmm?”
**Going out,** he sent.
**All right, Wesh. Come back soon...**
He always woke her up before he slipped outside to relieve himself. The world often distracted him so that he would forget to return to bed. It was harmless enough in the Evertree Holt, but Littlefire had the vaguest idea that it was dangerous to go wandering here. Kit would find him if he tarried too long.
He floated down to the ground and found a quiet little spot a short distance from the holt. When he was finished he began to float back into the understory. A movement in the distance caught his eye and he flew over to investigate. It was a strange little furred creature, not unlike the sloths of the Great Holt, but with a more monkey-like face. Slowly it crawled along the tree branch, and Littlefire floated just underneath it, tracking it.
He should be returning to bed.
But another moment wouldn’t matter.
He watched the faint morning light play off the silver hairs of the creature, admiring the dance of colours.
The sloth-monkey moved on slowly but surely, and Littlefire followed.
* * *
The hunters of the Eagle Wing Clan were tracking a fat rooting boar by the light of the rising sun when their leader Ahka’san raised his hand for their to halt. Puzzled, the hunters followed the tall man as he lead them away from the boar tracks and into a little glade off the game trail.
A large branch of a flowering tree bent down to earth, slowly becoming a great buttress root. And lying on top of the branch, at the human’s eye-level, was a spirit.
It was a young male spirit, clad in tattered trousers and a threadbare coat. He lay on his stomach, contemplating a fat chrysalis that was about to yield up a great fan-winged butterfly.
“Holy forest spirit,” one of the hunters breathed.
“We should leave...” whispered another.
“We’re not in spirit lands... maybe the spirit’s come to us.”
Ahka’san inched closer to the spirit. The spirit did not move, did not seem to notice him. His huge grey-blue eyes were focused on the budding chrysalis.
“This is a prize for our village,” Ahka’san murmured.
The chrysalis tore open, and the twitching antenna of a butterfly peeked out. The spirit let out a cry of joy.
Ahka’san seized the woven net they used for catching boars and threw it high over the spirit’s head with a deft flip of his wrist.
* * *
**KIT!** Littlefire’s sending shattered Kit’s dreams. She awoke with a start. She had fallen asleep again while waiting for her lifemate to return.
**Wesh! Where are you? What’s happened?**
In return she received a long scream, a flurry of random images of sensations. The rough scratching of woven rope. The sharp bright light of sunrise. The sounds of frantic footfalls. The stench of human musk.
Humans...
“No, no, no, oh no no please,” Kit murmured frantically as she reached for her clothes. **Aurek, Vaya! Littlefire’s been taken by humans!**
* * *
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Kit wept miserably when the entire holt had awakened and joined her on the landing. “I... he woke me up before he went out, like he always does. I’m supposed to go looking for him if he’s gone too long. But I fell back asleep. And then next thing I knew he was sending to me a panic. They caught him. They had him all wound up in a net! Oh, High Ones!”
“Shh,” Vaya hugged Kit. “It’s not your fault.”
“I should have stayed awake.”
“It’s not your fault,” she repeated. She scoffed softly. “He would get lost trying to take a piss! He needs a leash on him. No point in standing blaming ourselves. Let’s get our weapons and go. We’ll slit ourselves a path through round-ears’ flesh and be back at the holt with Littlefire before that scatterbrain knows what’s happened.”
“No,” Spar said. “We can’t just go attacking the humans, or do you want them deciding we’re all evil spirits who need to be burned out of here?”
“They are humans,” Door sneered. “We are elves. And I swear, they will return my cousin or I will make them pay dearly.”
“Exactly,” Vaya bared her teeth. “How can they burn us out of here if there aren’t any left?”
Aurek lay a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s find our son first. We can make war then, if we must.”
“I know who took him,” Spar said. “There’s only one possibility.”
* * *
Sure enough, when Spar had left them through the trees to the squat little village of the Eagle Wing Clan, Kit almost leapt from the understory. “He’s there!” she squeaked, pointing to the great hut at the far edge of the cleared ground. “He’s in there! Oh, High Ones, he’s caged!”
“Shh,” Aurek touched her shoulders. “Peace, my son’s mate.”
“Peace?” Vaya almost shouted. “That’s our son in there!”
**Quiet!** Aurek snapped in all their minds. **What good will we do squawking like waterfowl. Now, he’s being held in that hut. How do we get to that hut without being seen?**
**Without being seen? Oh, no, lifemate! My spear will taste human blood for this!**
**If they haven’t hurt him yet we can still get him out of there without bloodshed, Vaya.**
**Play goddess for them if you want, Spar. But I’ll have my son back and I’ll have satisfaction.**
**Whoa!** Spar caught the trailing edge of Door’s caftan a moment before he would have leapt from the branch. **Hold still, old bird. We’re doing this right!**
“I am their god,” Door hissed. “They will obey me!”
**Aurek, sit on him if you have to!** Spar sent. The long-limbed Glider firmly took his nephew by the shoulders and forced him to sit down on the branch.
**Now look, I remember the days when I was ready to leap at humans at a moment’s notice!** Spar sent to them all. **But they’ve got Littlefire in a cage in that hut, and that means they have the power right now, like it or not. So let’s do this right. If we can get him out without killing, we have to try. And if we have to kill – let’s make sure it’s only humans who bleed today.**
* * *
Littlefire crouched on the floor of the wooden. It had obviously been made long ago to restrain pigs, for it stank of boar spoor and blood, and the smell sent him reeling. The humans had given him water and a bowl of fruit, but he had overturned both bowls and hurled the contents at the bars. Now he bent over, his hands clapped over his ears, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. A low whine rose out of his throat.
A wizened human approached the cage. He cleared his throat and spoke in the heavily accented dialect of the elfin tongue. “Honoured spirit. We welcome you to the clan of Eagle Wing.”
Littlefire made a flying leap at the human. He struck the hard bars of the cage and fell back to the ground. Whimpering and moaning, he huddled back against the far corner.
“I am Mem’nem’ah, chief of the Eagle Wing Clan. You have blessed us with your presence, and if you will let us, we will treat you well–”
Littlefire clapped his hands over his ears and screamed, a wordless cry of agony.
“We beg you to bless us with fine crops and fertile hunting grounds–”
“Shut up! Shut up!” Littlefire shouted back. “Too sharp! Too loud! Shut up!”
“If you would just calm yourself, spirit, we–”
“NO! Noooooo!” Littlefire’s cry dissolved into a long moan.
“He’s mad,” Ahka’san growled.
“I don’t understand it,” the old chief frowned.
“He’s mad, is what it is. We caught ourselves a mad spirit.”
“Perhaps it is a child spirit. Perhaps he cannot understand us.”
“I’d say the spirit is trapped in a broken vessel. Look at how he twitches and shivers. He cries like a wild animal. Maybe spirits can be trapped in madness like men.”
“Perhaps,” Mem’nem’ah frowned.
“We should sacrifice him. Free his soul. He’ll come back in a new body and he’ll remember our kindness in setting him free.” A glint appeared in his eyes. He motioned the old chief closer. “Refresh me, chieftain. When we sacrifice a madman to the spirits, his soul always returns in the first child born afterwards, yes? It does not linger in the afterlife waiting the hundred-and-five years for a new body, but returns immediately.”
“Yes. Madness is a sign of favour by the spirits. They honour us with a good harvest for the sacrifice, and they give the freed soul a new body to make up for the lost one.”
“So... if we sacrifice the mad spirit, free him from his body... would he come back in the body of one of our children?”
The chief frowned. “Perhaps. Perhaps if we make the appropriate prayers...”
“And then we would have a spirit-child who could bring us blessings constantly.”
“I do not know, Ahka’san. Give me some time. I must meditate on this.”
Littlefire screamed again.
“Mediate quickly, chieftain. We’ll have no blessings from this one, that’s for sure.”
“I can’t send to Littlefire!” Kit exclaimed. “He’s panicking, locking me out.”
“Let me,” Aurek closed his eyes. **Littlefire... Littlefire, it’s your father. Do you hear your father?**
A disordered blur of sensations assaulted him, but the ageless Glider pushed them aside. **WESH! Listen to me!**
At length the static waned, and he heard a voice. **Father... Father... scared... too many... they want to kill me! I heard them! They want to kill me! Sacrifice they said! It’s too loud, too sharp, I can smell the blood! I’m so afraid!**
**We’re here. Don’t be afraid, little one. No one will hurt you, do you hear me? No one. We won’t let that happen. But we need your help. Will you help us?**
A pause. **Yes... yes I’ll help.**
**I need you to calm yourself. Remember all I taught you. Listen to the beating of your heart. Will it to slow down. Focus on your breathing and remember to breathe deeply.**
**Yes... yes... I’m calm. I’m listening – I am!**
His heart was still racing, but Aurek knew it was as relaxed as Littlefire could become under the circumstances. **Where are you? Show me.**
In his mind’s eye Aurek found himself looking through his son’s eyes. He saw the bars of the cage standing out in sharp relief. He focussed on the room beyond the cage and saw a human male standing in the shadows, his eyes pinned accusingly on the elf in the cage.
He made Littlefire turn slowly around so he could see the entire room. One door. No windows. But a small smoke hole in the roof was big enough for one elf to fit through.
There was the matter of the human guard. But that could be dealt with easily enough.
**Keep your mind locked with mine, Wesh. We’re about to free you. But I’ll need to see what’s happening around your.**
**I... I u-understand. I can do that. I can.**
Aurek allowed himself a smile. **My brave boy. Hold fast. You’ll be free before noon.**
* * *
Door strode out onto a branch overlooking the camp. “People of the Eagle Wing Clan!” he shouted over the clearing, and all heads inside the village wall turned towards the forest, searching in vain for the speaker.
Door floated down onto an exposed branch, and smiled at the suitably awed gasp that rose from the farmers and warriors. At least thirty humans were staring up at him in wonder. “I am Door!” he boomed. “The supreme Sky Spirit of your ancestors. You are holding my kin inside your chief’s lodge – a spirit of sky and fire! You will return him to me at once!”
He saw their fear, and he felt the familiar rush of power. Yes, if they could not behave, his children would be punished.
The withered old man hobbled forward and raised his staff. “This is our business, doorkeeper, not yours. The spirit chose to bless us with his presence. And he is ours to keep. Even now, we are making preparations to welcome him as a member of our clan.”
“You mean to murder him! I know what you are planning – do you think I cannot read the hearts of men? You plan to sacrifice him on your sacred altar! Do you think you can defy me? Return my kin to men now, or suffer the consequences!”
“You are powerful, doorkeeper! But you are not our god. We are not Hoan-G’Tay-Sho dogs – we are free men! And we have a spirit of our own–”
“A spirit you keep locked in a cage? A spirit you torture!” Door raised his hand and a great pillar of stone rose up from the center of the village. The villagers scattered, stumbling as tremors raced through the ground. Archers gathered their bows and took aim at the offending elf.
“My patience is ended!” Door declared, floating up back into the trees, a few seconds ahead of the arrows. “You will pay for your insolence!” his disembodied voice cried back.
That’s good, Door, Kit thought to herself as she and Vaya crept through the trees, around the edge of the village. Keep them busy. Keep their eyes on you.
They crouched on a branch directly behind the chief’s hut. A twenty-foot gap loomed between the trees and the roof of the hut. Kit signalled for Vaya to hold her position. She smiled tightly, a grimace of frustration, as she held her short-sword at the ready.
Kit secured her quiver and held her bow tight in her hand. Taking a three-step running start, she braced the butt of the bow against the branch and vaulted herself into the air. She pinwheeled her arms, struggling to stay aloft a moment longer as gravity began to pull her down to earth.
She caught the edge of the roof and scrambled up onto it. She could still hear Door shouting at the humans while the Eagle Wing chief marshalled the warriors. Another tremor shook the ground as Door continued to shape deadly spires out of the ground, and Kit struggled to climb up the incline of the roof to the smoke-hole at the apex.
She dropped down through the smokehole and landed on top of the wooden pen that held Littlefire. The great bear of a human that was standing guard spun around, raising his great handaxe high overhead. But Kit was faster, nocking her arrow and felling him with one shot.
Littlefire let out a loud cry of combined fright and relief. Too loud a cry. Kit seized the human’s discarded handaxe and struck at the heavy woven cords that held the cage door in place. “Out, out!” she hissed.
“Kit!” Littlefire wept, throwing his arms around her. “Kit – Kit – I – we – I–”
“Shh, shh....” She held him tightly. “Let’s just get out of here. Up out through the smokehole. Now!”
She didn’t need to tell him twice. Littlefire floated them up out of the hut, beyond the roof, and into the safety of the trees.
“Wesh!” Vaya shouted, heedless of the danger. Littlefire nearly dropped Kit in his haste to reach his mother. Vaya spread her arms wide and Littlefire collapsed against her, burying his face in her shoulder.
“Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” Vaya whispered. “Shh, my little mite. You’re safe now. My brave, brave little mite.” Hot tears fell down her cheeks. “Let’s get away from here. Father’s waiting for us.”
* * *
“Door!” Spar called. “Kit and Vaya have Littlefire. Let’s go!”
Door gestured, and another spire of rock rose from the ground, scattering the humans. The rock then folded in on itself, a sharp needle aimed at the aging chief.
“Fenn!” Spar snapped.
Door made a fist, and the rock descended on the old man. Spar leapt out onto the branch and seized Door’s arm. The rock slipped to one side, narrowly missing the old man.
“Release me!” Door commanded as Spar yanked him out of range of the warriors who were now taking aim with their bows. “I will see them pay!”
“We have Littlefire. He’s safe, and the humans are running scared. That’s enough, now come on!”
Arrows whizzed through the trees, striking leaves and branches and dropping harmlessly to the ground. Spar dragged the unwilling rockshaper along the aerial trail.
“Release me!” Door tore his arm from her grasp. His face was livid with rage. “I will have my vengeance.”
“You can’t kill them all.”
“Watch me!”
“Days ago they were your children! Now you want to kill them?”
The anger drained away, leaving only horror and despair, an expression Spar recognized instantly. Before he could withdraw further, she took his hand firmly and pulled him along the maze of branches, back to the dense thicket where Aurek and the others were waiting for them.
* * *
Littlefire seemed no worse for the wear after a full meal and a dunk in the river to banish the lingering scent of boar. And three days after the raid on the Eagle Wing Clan, the humans had taken no vengeance on the “spirits.” In fact, they had fled their ruined village, leaving the jagged spires and loops of rock behind as a warning for future human invaders. Peace seemed to have returned to the Forevergreen.
But Aurek and Vaya were anxious to return to the safety of the Great Holt, and Kit and Littlefire were equally intent on going home to the Evertree. Within three days of Littlefire’s rescue, the Palace came and went. Door and Spar were alone once more.
“Leave this place,” Aurek had told them as they parted ways. “It’s not safe here. It never was.”
Door had been despondent ever since Spar had stopped him from destroying the Eagle Wing Clan. Now with the departure of his uncle and cousin, he slipped into a deeper despair.
“Fenn...” Spar joined him at their little lookout perch high above their holt. “Fenn, what is it?”
“Aurek is right...” he sighed. He looked down at his hands folded in his lap. “Those humans... they’re not my family.”
Spar touched his arm gently. “No. Your family is Aurek and Littlefire. And Tyldak and Windkin. Your family is elves.”
“I only wanted to recapture what was lost. I hoped... time and patience and I might have the golden days of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho once more.”
“The golden age of the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho? Or the golden age of Blue Mountain?”
“Oh... it was beautiful once, Sohn. Before it fell apart... before she took me away. It was beautiful! All I wanted was to recapture a hint of that beauty – a sanctuary for all our kind, a world where we are safe from the dangers of the outside.”
“You cannot cage elves inside stone, Door.”
“Winnowill pulled Blue Mountain down around her. She destroyed the dream that once burned. But Aurek’s sendings do not lie! Once... oh, as sweet a dream as the first days here in the Forevergreen.”
“Aye, dreams are always sweet in memory. But life is no dream, Fenn. Life is... life.”
“I thought... once the Geo’kali were gone... but these humans are all the same. They say they believe in you. They say they honour you. Yet they will twist the truth to suit their own ends. By the Egg, they would have murdered my cousin to enslave his spirit! How can one reason with them?”
“You cannot. And you cannot fight them either, Door. Humans are a part of this world. A part of life.”
“What of the ones you help with your herblore? Why can we not–”
“Fenn.” She touched his cheek. “There are good people in the Forevergreen. But humans... they live and die so swiftly. A blink of our eyes is an entire lifetime to them. The good ones fade away. The blind ones... those who will always look to their own interests first... they linger on. Listen to me – I know you dream of building a society of elves and humans. But every time elves and humans have managed to share land it has been through separation. Blue Mountain and the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho. The Islanders and the humans of Crest Point. You cannot be a god to these humans and expect to live among them. And sooner or later the Eagle Wing Clan will want revenge for what we did to them. No–” she held up her hand to stop him before he could argue. “It does not matter that they wronged us first. None of that matters. These are the hard lessons I learned from my parents. In the end, humans are humans and elves are elves. Humans will always look out for themselves and so must we.”
Tears stung his eyes. “How?” he clenched his fists tight. “How can I restore what was lost? Windkin told me to dream a different dream! What is the dream I’m struggling to touch? What will fill this emptiness that gnaws at me?”
“You need your family. You need to leave this place. Please, Fenn. We can be in Sorrow’s End in a few eights.”
Door shook his head. “We were meant for something more, Sohn. Oh... I wanted to give you such a world. A world where we strive for something more than simply surviving... farming or hunting or simply... existing!”
“You can have all that in the Palace.”
“No... not the Palace.”
“Winnowill–”
“It’s not her, Spar. But... I doubt I’d feel safe around her spirit. No... it’s more. I... want to create something. I want to give life to a dream... not simply feed of another’s. That was Winnowill’s great failing... and that’s what drove her mad. No... I will not be a slave to another again. I will create a world where I–”
“Rule,” Spar finished softly.
“It is so wrong?” Door snapped abruptly.
“Fenn... I want you to be happy. I want to see that flicker of joy that appears in your eyes when Aurek and Littlefire visit. But we can’t stay here. This place...”
“I know,” Door hung his head. “I... I am lost. I have been since the city fell. I have struggled to fly... oh, how I want to leave behind the... relics of the past. But something binds me still. Something... calling to me – or am I calling to it? I want something more, Sohn. I... I have existed for so long. I am sick to death of existing. I want to live! I want to give life! Is that so wrong?”
Spar turned his face to hers and kissed him softly on the lips. “It’s a fine dream, lifemate. And you’ll find a way to make it reality. I know you will. One day.”
Door’s gaze drifted back to the forest canopy, despondent.
Spar finger-combed a lock of hair behind his ear. “I’m going to go inside. Come to bed soon, all right?”
Door nodded miserably. Spar could think of nothing more to say, and so she turned and climbed down from their lookout perch.
Door continued to watch the night envelop the rainforest. Small columns of smoke rose through breaks in the canopy.
One day the entire Forevergreen will become a human’s hut, with crude smokeholes cut through living trees, Door thought bleakly.
As he had done many years before, he sent a heartfelt cry out into the night. **High Ones, Firstcomers – your lost child needs your guidance! How can I restore what was lost? How can I resurrect what was doomed to fall? There was such beauty once – beauty of the purest soul! Must it all turn to dust? Must the light always fade into shadow? Show me the way to rekindle the flame? How? How can I seize my dream at last?**
He imagined Spar heard his anguished cry as she readied for sleep. He imagined her crying silently, suffering as she felt her lifemate’s pain.
He hung his head sadly. The jungle slumbered on, heedless of his grief.
And then, a reply. A sharp sending pierced him as though the sender stood at his side.
**I hear your pain, grandchild of my son. At last I have found you. Now we can reclaim what was taken from us.**
Door’s mouth went dry, and he shuddered at the power of the sending.
“My lord...”
Elfquest copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. Elfquest, its logos, characters, situations, all related indicia, and their distinctive likenesses are trademarks of Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Some dialogue taken from Elfquest comics. All such dialogue copyright 2014 Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Alternaverse characters and insanity copyright 2014 Jane Senese and Erin Roberts