by Wen Spencer
The main fight area was a chaos of torn earth and blood. The sekasha might be able to read the course of events, but to him it was only churned earth. The bark of surrounding trees was gouged in the dragon's five-clawed pattern.
"It had domi pinned. Little Horse attempted to penetrate its shield." Wraith pointed at a spot on the ground, and at the nearest scored tree. "It leapt to that tree. Rainlily said that the tengu was on the bridge, so that tree there"—Wraith pointed to a distant tree with claw marks halfway up the towering trunk—"is the next set."
The leap meant the creature was stunningly powerful without magic.
"Let's see where the trail leads."
The railing of the bridge was scored deep by the dragon's claws. After that, however, the track became impossible to follow with the naked eye. The sekasha considered the bridge deck, scuffing it with their boots.
"Too much metal." Wraith voiced the sekasha's collective opinion.
Wolf nodded; he'd thought as much. Using magic to track was rarely possible in Pittsburgh with its omnipresent web of metal in the roads, the buildings, and the power lines overhead.
There was whistle from the rear guard, indicating the arrival of a friendly force. Still, the a around him went alert when a limo belonging to the EIA pulled to a stop at the far end of the bridge. The oni had infiltrated every level of the UN police force; they could no longer automatically assume the EIA was friendly.
With a cautiousness that made it clear that he understood his position, Director Derek Maynard got out of his limo and walked the rest of the distance to Wolf. Apparently Maynard had spent the morning dealing with humans, as he was in dressed in the dark solid suit that spoke of power among men. Wolf thought it might be the way they perceived color.
"Wolf Who Rules ze Domou." Over the years, Maynard had picked up much of the elfin body language. He projected politely constrained anger as he bowed elegantly.
"Director." Wolf used his title without his name to mildly rebuke him.
Maynard bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the censure. He paused for a minute, nostrils flared, before speaking. He looked worn and tired. Time wore Maynard down at an alarming rate; in twenty short years he had gone from a young man to middle-aged. Gazing at him, Wolf realized that in a few decades he'd lose his friend.
If I could have only made him an elf too. But no, that would have destroyed Maynard's value as a "human" representative.
"Windwolf." Maynard chose to continue in English, probably because it placed him in the less subservient role. "I wish you would have warned me about declaring the treaty void."
Wolf sighed, it was going to be one of those conversations. "You know the terms. Pittsburgh could exist as a separate entity only while it continued to return to Earth."
"You've said nothing in the last two days about voiding the treaty."
"And I haven't said anything about the sun setting, but it has and will."
"The sun setting does not cut me off at the knees."
Wolf glanced down at Maynard's legs, and confirmed that they were still intact. Ah, an English saying he hadn't heard before. "Derek, pretend I don't understand human politics."
"The treaty is between the humans and the elves." Maynard followed the human tendency to talk slowly and in short sentences in the face of confusion. It made the time to enlightenment agonizingly long, even for an elf. "But the treaty is the basis for many agreements between the United States and the United Nations. It makes Pittsburgh neutral territory controlled by a UN peacekeeper force—the EIA—for the duration of the treaty."
"Ah, with the treaty void, Pittsburgh reverts to control of the United States."
"Yes!"
"No."
"No?" Maynard looked confused.
"Pittsburgh now belongs to the Wind Clan, and I decide who will be my representative with the humans and I choose you."
Maynard took a deep breath as he pressed his palms together, prayerlike, in front of his mouth. He breathed out, took another breath. Windwolf was starting to wonder if he was praying. "Wolf, I thank you for your trust in me," Maynard said finally. "But for me to continue acting as director of the EIA, it would require me to disregard all human laws—and I cannot do that."
"There are no human laws anymore. Humans must obey elfin laws now."
"That's not acceptable. I know you're the viceroy, and as such Pittsburgh falls under your control, but the humans of Pittsburgh will not accept you unilaterally abolishing all human laws and rights."
"These were conditions agreed to by your own people."
"Well, shortsighted as it might have been, it was assumed that if something happened to the gate that Pittsburgh would return to Earth."
"Yes, it was." Wolf did not point out that humans were typically shortsighted, rarely looking past the next hundred years. "But we knew that sooner or later we would have to deal with humans wanting to or needing to remain on Elfhome."
"Yes, of course," Maynard said dryly. He gazed down at the blue paleness of the Ghostlands. "Is your domi sure that we're truly stranded? We're still a week before scheduled Shutdown."
"Something fell from orbit. She believes it to be the gate."
"But she could be wrong."
"It's unlikely."
"Let us say that we wait a week to be sure before calling the treaty null and void."
"A week will not make any difference."
"Ah, then it will be no problem." Maynard spread his hands and smiled as if Wolf had agreed.
In that moment, Wolf could see the tactfully charming young officer he had hand-selected out of the UN security force to act as the liaison between human and elf. Maynard had been so young back then. Wolf smiled sadly. "And if I agree to a week?"
"During this week, we draw up an interim treaty that basically extends the original treaty."
"No." Windwolf shook his head. "We could create an interim treaty but the original treaty can not stand. It makes humans too autonomous."
"Pittsburgh has existed as an independent state for thirty years."
"No, not Pittsburgh, humans. All elves belong to a household and to a clan. They hold a very specific position within our society. They are responsible to others, and others are responsible for them. It's the very foundation of our culture, and if humans are to be part of our world, then they must conform to our ways."
"You mean—you want humans to form households? Set up enclaves?"
"Yes. It's imperative. All of our laws are structured on the assumption that the people under our laws are part of our society. You can't be as independent as most humans are and still be part of us."
They searched late into the evening but found nothing more of the dragon. Storm clouds had gathered throughout the day, and as dusk became night, it started to rain. Unable to track the dragon farther, Wolf and his sekasha returned to the enclave. He checked first to see how his domi was doing. Tinker lay in the center of their shared bed, a dark curl of walnut on the cream satin sheets. Wolf paused beside the footboard to watch his beloved sleep. Despite everything, he found great comfort in seeing her back where she belonged, safe among the people who loved her.
A saijin flower sat on the night table, scenting the warm air with its narcotic fragrance. Little Horse slept in a chair beside the bed. The hospice healers had stripped off his wyvern armor; fresh bruises and healing spells overlaid the pale circles of bullet holes from two days ago.
I almost lost them both to the oni, Wolf thought and touched his blade brother's shoulder. "Little Horse."
The sekasha opened his eyes after a minute, rousing slowly. "Brother Wolf. I only meant to sit down for a moment." He looked drowsily to the flower beside him. "The saijin must have put me asleep."
The narcotic was starting to color Wolf's senses with a golden haze, so he opened the balcony doors to let in rain-damp air.
"Are you well?" Wolf took the other chair, waiting for Little Horse to wake up from his drugged sleep, wondering if he'd made a mistake pairing
his blade brother with Tinker. They were both so young to go through so much.
"I'm bruised, that is all." Little Horse rubbed at his eyes. "My shields protected me."
"Good."
"I was thinking about the oni leader, Lord Tomtom, before I drifted off. He checked on our progress either at noon or at midnight. Some days he would make two inspections. It occurred to me that he was rotating between compounds, overseeing two or three of them."
"So the number of oni warriors in the area might be much greater than the sixty you counted?"
Little Horse nodded. "From what I observed, though, the warriors are like sea wargs." His blade brother named a mammal that gathered in colonies on the coast; the male animals fought to gather harems of females, and any cub left unprotected was usually killed and eaten by its own kind. "Command goes to the largest of the group and he rules by cruelty and fear. They fight among themselves, but I saw no weapon practice or drills. I believe that not one of their warriors would be a match for a sekasha."
"That is good to know." It backed what Maynard had told him at one point. Warned by Tinker, Maynard had begun to secretly sift through his people two months earlier. Using Tinker's description of "cruel and ruthless people with no sense of honor" he found the hidden oni fairly simple to find. So far intensive magical testing had proved his guesses correct.
Little Horse glanced toward the bed and a smile stole onto his face, making him seem younger still. "Despite their large size and savageness, she terrorized them."
Wolf laughed. Little Horse yawned widely, so Wolf stood up and pulled his blade brother to his feet. "Go to bed. The others can keep watch."
"Yes, Brother Wolf." Little Horse hugged him. It was good, Wolf decided, that he paired Tinker with his blade brother. They would protect each other's open and affectionate natures from the stoic older sekasha.
After steering Little Horse to his room, Wolf detoured to check on Singing Storm. He expected to find her sleeping when he cracked her door. She turned her head, though, and slit open her eyes. A smile took control of her face. Still she greeted him with a semiformal, "Wolf Who Rules."
He lowered the formality between them. It was her ability to see him as nothing more than a male that made him love her so. "How is my Discord?"
Her smile deepened. "Good and just got better."
"I'm glad." He leaned down and kissed her. She murmured her enjoyment, running her hands up his chest to tangle in his hair. She tasted candy sweet from her favorite gum.
"I've missed you," she whispered into his ear. She meant intimately, like this, because she had guarded over him every day for the last two months. Taking Tinker to be his domi, however, had meant an abrupt change in their relationship. They hadn't even had a chance to discuss it afterward.
"I'm sorry."
She nipped him on the earlobe in rebuke. "No matter who, if they were the right one, you would have wanted this."
"It was graceless." He had given her only a few hours warning of his intention to offer for Tinker. She knew him well enough to know that he would want a monogamous relationship as long as Tinker was willing to give him one.
"When did we start to care about grace? Wasn't that the whole point of leaving court, all the false elegance? I like that we're honest with one another—and I like her—which is not surprising since I like humans."
"She's an elf now," Wolf gently reminded her.
"In the body, but not in the mind. She speaks Low Elvish as if she was born to it, yes, but she doesn't know our ways, Wolf. If you don't have time to teach her, then get her a tutor."
Wolf found himself shaking his head. "No. I don't want a stranger trying to force her into court elegance."
"Are you afraid that she will lose all that makes her endearing to you?"
Only Discord would dare to say that to him—but then—that was another reason he loved her. She would risk annoying him to make him face what needed to be faced. For her, he sighed and considered the possibility.
"No," he said after thinking it through. "Yes, I love her humanity and I'll mourn it if she loses it completely, but she is so much more than that."
"Then have someone teach her. She nearly got us all killed today because she couldn't bear to sacrifice me."
He knew better than to argue with Discord on that but was pleased with Tinker's decision. It was Tinker's courage and ability to pull off the impossible that had initially attracted him to her, and he would have been deeply saddened to lose Singing Storm. "I'm trying to find a solution to this. I know she needs to be taught our customs, but I don't want her to necessarily conform."
"I never said anything about conforming." Discord nuzzled into his neck. "Conforming is for chickens."
He laughed into her short blue hair. "That's my Discord." He kissed her and drew away to consider her. From her hair to her boots, Discord challenged everything elfin. Yet of all his sekasha, she was the only one that had grown up at court and had high etiquette literally beaten into her. There was no one more knowledgeable, yet less likely, to force those skills on Tinker.
"What is it that you want of me?" she asked.
"You know me too well." He tugged on her rattail braid. "I want you to keep close to my domi and be there when she needs guidance."
"Pony is her First." Discord switched to English, a sign that she wanted to be bluntly truthful. "I'll be stomping all over his toes. I don't want to piss him off. He's one of the few that never said shit to me about being a mutt."
"Pony is not the type to put pride before duty. He loves Tinker, but he knows that he doesn't fully understand her. He hasn't spent enough time in Pittsburgh, away from our people . . ."
"Like me?" It was a point of sadness between them. For decades they had ignored all the little signs that they could not be more than domou and beholden. The fact that she would choose Pittsburgh over being with him had made clear that while they were good together, they were not right.
"Like you." Wolf took her hand, kissed it, and moved on. "Humans are still mysterious to him."
She thought for a moment and then returned to Elvish. "As long as it does not anger Storm Horse, I will be there for her."
4: ON GOSSAMER DEATH
The next morning, shortly after dawn, the oni made their first attack. Wolf heard a muffled roar and then the loud anguished wail of a wounded gossamer. Luckily, his people were already awake and ready. Only Tinker, having been drugged the night before, still slept.
"Have Poppymeadow lock down the enclave," Wolf told Little Horse. "I'm leaving you just with her guards and Singing Storm. Everyone else with me."
Wolf arrived at the airfield, though too late to scry the direction of the attack. All he could do was watch the gossamer die in the pale morning light. The great living airship wallowed on the ground, its translucent body undulating in pain. The remains of the gondola lay under it, crushed by the massive heaving body. The clear blood of the gossamer pooled on the ground, scenting the air with the ghost of ancient seas.
"We can't get close enough to heal the wound." The gossamer's navigator was weeping openly. "Even if we could, I doubt we could save her. It's a massive wound, and she's lost too much fluid. My poor baby."
The gossamer let out a long low breathy wail of pain.
"Did you see where it came from?" Wolf wasn't sure what "it" was because none of the crew had seen the attack clearly.
The navigator shook his head. "I felt it hit before I heard anything. She shuddered, and then started to go down, and I jumped clear."
"Here comes another one!" Wraith shouted as he pointed at some type of rocket flashing toward them.
Wolf flung up his widest shield, protecting the crew and sekasha surrounding him. "Stay close!"
The rocket struck his wind wall and exploded into a fireball that curved around them, following the edges of his shield. The deflected energy splashed back in a wave of pulverized earth, like a stone thrown into mud.
A piece of metal skimmed overhead and struc
k the gossamer. The shrapnel smashed the gossamer sideways, blasting through the nerve center of the creature. The airship gave one last agonizing wail and collapsed.
Wolf shifted carefully to maintain his shield and did a wind scry. The scrying followed the disturbance of the rocket path through the air, making it visible to him. It pointed back to a window a few houses down from the paparazzi's spy perch. The Rim had razed all the buildings between the airfield and the street at the first Startup, so he had an equally clear shot back at the sniper.
Wolf summoned a force strike and flung it along the scry. The power arrowed away, plowing a furrow in a straight line to the human structure. The force strike punched its way through the building, reducing the structure instantly to a cloud of dust and a pile of rubble strewn into the alley behind it.
