She stood up, eager to be useful, “Those look amazing. What can I do? How do we cook them?”
He was obviously amused by her enthusiasm. “Have you ever cooked anything over a fire before?”
“No, but I learn fast.”
He shook his head, already spitting the rabbits on branches and putting them on the fire, “Don’t worry about it then. Sit and rest and I’ll get dinner cooked.”
“I don’t want you stuck with all the work Kisusq, that doesn’t seem fair,” she said.
He laughed, crouching down near the fire where he could keep an eye on their dinner, “You sure you’re part elf? Not just elf by injection or something?”
Rolling her eyes good naturedly she pulled her hair back, showing him her ears. He kept laughing, “I see why you keep ‘em covered. I would too if I were you. You’re way to nice to be an elf.”
“Sal’s been helping you,” Allie pointed out, knowing she couldn’t really argue with him. The elves were undeniably elitist and classist – and speciesist if that was even a thing. They existed in a world, a reality, where they were the biggest most important fish in their pond and they knew it. And made sure everyone else knew it too.
“That kid’s only helping me because you’re telling him to,” Kisusq said, grinning. “One good thing about elves, if there is one good thing, is that they let their women take charge of things. Of course usually their women are bitches so it doesn’t make any difference but in this case it’s obviously working to our advantage. And yours if I’m any judge.”
Sal had walked in during this little speech, but he seemed unperturbed by Kisusq’s words. Then again Allie was pretty sure he’d agree, since most elven men weren’t exactly thrilled with their place in society. It seems like no matter who you are, unless you’re a well-placed elven woman, you’re under someone else’s boot, or licking it Allie thought to herself cynically. “I suppose I’m not in a position to complain at the moment.”
Silence fell over the little group, but it had a good feel to it. The tension was gone and for that Allie was grateful. She liked Kisusq, even though she didn’t know him well, and she didn’t want to feel awkward around him. Sal was looking at the native Fey thoughtfully, and finally as Kisusq took the cooked rabbit off the fire he said, “You really don’t like elves much do you?”
“What’s to like?” the Makiawisug asked shrugging and handing a spitted rabbit to each of them.
Allie watched Sal’s face close even as he nodded his thanks for the food. As she took her rabbit she decided to risk keeping the subject going. “Let me translate for Sal – he’s doing the elf equivalent of trying to politely ask you why you don’t like elves without bluntly asking you why you don’t like elves.”
Kisusq, stopped with the rabbit halfway to his mouth, “Seriously? Why not just ask if he wants to know?”
“It’s an etiquette thing,” she explained.
“Huh,” he said eyeing Sal as if he thought that was crazy. “Well that’s half your problem with elves right there. They hardly ever just come out and say what they mean. It’s always round and about and hints. Super annoying that.”
“What’s the other half?” Allie asked, curious herself.
“All of history, pretty much.”
“I actually don’t know that much about the native Fey here,” Allie admitted. “It’s not something they taught about in school, and you can’t find any good information in books.”
“How old are you?” he said, frowning at the fire.
“37,” Allie said, then nodded to Sal.
“A hundred and three,” he said after her prompting.
Kisusq shook his head. “Babies, the both of you.”
“I can’t really argue that, given the perspective,” she said. “I just wanted you to know, its ignorance on our part but it’s not willful ignorance. There’s just no source for information. Not for me anyway. The human view doesn’t even mention the native Fey, and most elves who were around during the Sundering don’t like to talk about the details very much.”
Sal put his hands up, still holding his dinner, “Don’t look at me, I wasn’t even weaned when the worlds meshed. All I know is what people occasionally mention in conversation, which is mostly major battles.”
“Babies,” Kisusq sighed taking another bite of rabbit before speaking again, “Not much of a surprise I guess. What is it they say? The victors write the history? And we’ve lost twice, first when the Europeans came and forced the tribes we were allied with into submission – or just massacred them – and then again when the elves came.”
Sal twitched at that but didn’t say anything, focusing on his own meal. Allie nodded, “I can see that. What little I do know, after the Sundering the Holdings, most of them, just assumed the native Fey would be part of their, ah, system.”
“System,” he said bitterly. “Yeah, that’s one way to call it. You obviously know elves call anyone who isn’t them lesser Fey. Lesser. The term itself says exactly what they think of everyone else. There’s them and there’s the lesser people.” He shook his head, taking another big bite of rabbit. “Well we don’t think of ourselves as less than anybody else. So them suddenly dropping on our heads when the Sundering happened and then announcing that they were basically annexing all of our territory didn’t go over well. But what could we do? We were outnumbered a thousand to one, those who didn’t just disappear when the worlds joined. Some tried to fight of course, not straight battles but hitting where we could when we could. Some tried allying with the humans, but most of them were so paranoid about anything Fey at that point…it was just a mess. So we ended up pushed to the fringes, the places no one else wanted. What you call the Wildlands. But I’ll tell you it’s a better life than living under some elf’s boot, that’s for sure.”
Allie grimaced slightly hearing him echo her earlier thought but nodded. “It sounds like Wiyon is trying to improve things for all of you, with the information in the books he wants.”
“About damn time too,” Kisusq said. “No reason we should be stuck suffering and living rough when we can make it better for ourselves. See the problem has been getting access to what we need, including information. We can’t exactly go into the Holding – not that we’d want to – but the stupid laws the humans have mean we can’t easily get into Ashwood either. It’s a bitch of a situation.”
“Yeah, I see that,” Allie said. “But there must be some way around some of it?”
“We’ve tried, but humans tell us we’re under the elves Law, even though we say we aren’t,” he said. “And no one wants to swear loyalty to that queen just to get some paperwork to go into Ashwood.”
“Hmmm. Yeah I see the problem.”
“We’re lucky we have some contacts that do let us pass things back and forth across the border to earth, or it would be worse,” he said.
“So what he’s basically trying to do is build up your infrastructure?”
“Basically. And modify as much tech as we can to work over here.”
Allie glanced at Sal who was chewing and staring into the fire thoughtfully. “I thought human technology didn’t work in Fairy.”
“That’s what they want you to think,” Kisusq said, nodding sagely, “but what it really comes down to is that the elves prefer magic because they control it. They can do almost as much with magic as human tech can do, and they can do things with magic other Fey can’t do, so why should they want to give that up? That control is where the real power is. If we can modify human stuff to work here it would make a huge difference for us in a lot of ways.”
“Yeah,” Allie said, wondering if what he was saying was really true or if he only believed it was true. “that last part makes sense. I don’t know about the first part though; I certainly have enough trouble keeping my electrical stuff working in Ashwood and that isn’t even fully Fairy.”
“Ah, but it can be done, can’t it?” he pressed.
“Yes,” she said, nodding, “it can be done. With
spells to divert the magical energy away from the electronics.”
He leaned back gesturing with the remains of his rabbit, “So then why shouldn’t that same theory work just as well here?”
Allie frowned, trying to think it through. There was more magical interference here, but logically that should be a matter of stronger diverting spells to handle the extra energy. For a second her hand twitched towards the cell phone in her pocket, knowing she could test his theory easily right then and there, but she stopped. Part of her was curious, but a bigger part of her didn’t want to know, not really. She knew that the elves in general were often hard to deal with and just as often jerks. Their reputation for arrogance and out of proportion violent reactions to insults was as well-deserved as their reputation for hedonism. A year ago she wouldn’t have even tried to defend any of it, but a year ago she barely had anything to do with elven culture, it was little more than a childhood memory. Now she was deeply involved in it, far, far more deeply than she could ever have imagined being. This wasn’t just some abstract discussion about anonymous elves being controlling elitists – it was hitting home for her the same way she’d been struck by personal connections when she’d read her grandmother’s grimoire and had to face the fact that her flesh and blood had participated in killing people and had been seeking ways to benefit from Fey deaths. It was personal now and when she thought of elves she thought of Jess, and Brynneth and Zarethyn and the other elves she had befriended. Even of Bleidd who she had long ago stopped associating with elven society since he had been cast out of it.
“You know I’m right,” Kisusq pressed, and for a moment Allie couldn’t even remember what he was referencing, so deeply had she gotten lost in her own thoughts.
“Maybe,” she nodded absently then dug into her rabbit which was cold. It was good though and juicy. “This is delicious.”
He raised an eyebrow, but she smiled, “No really it is. I love rabbit but I hardly ever get to eat it. Do you want some cheese? Or bread? The bread’s a bit stale but the cheese is good.”
He relaxed a bit although she still guessed he thought she was trying to sidetrack him. “Cheese would be great. We trade for it sometimes but we don’t get much this time of year.”
Allie turned but Sal had already pulled the cheese from the bag, having finished his food while they talked and anticipating what she’d want when she’d offered it. She smiled at him and to her surprise he offered a tentative smile back. She broke off a good-sized hunk and handed it to Kisusq who nodded. “Thanks. I’m curious, did you grow up in the Holding or have you lived in Ashwood your whole life?”
“You’re welcome,” Allie said. “And not exactly either. I was born in another Holding, north of here, but moved down to Ashwood to live with my grandmother when I was just a kid, and I’ve lived here since.”
He snorted, “You’re still just a kid.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but she had to admit she was enjoying the good-natured banter. She was finding the Makiawisug much more direct to talk to than either the elves or the lesser Fey she had known before and it was nice. The rest of the meal and a short time after was spent in small talk which Sal added a few comments to, until Allie realized she was yawning as much as she was talking.
“I think I need to get some sleep,” she admitted, embarrassed because it was obvious that the two other Fey were not ready to turn in yet.
Kisusq nodded, gesturing towards the tent with his chin, “Plenty of room in there to lay down. No blankets but it holds heat well, and with all of us in there it’ll be warm enough.”
She got up awkwardly, “Thanks again for the rabbit. And putting up with us babies all day.”
Sal gave her an indignant look but Kisusq grinned, his eyes dancing. “Eh well, you aren’t so bad for kids who weren’t even alive when most of these trees were saplings.”
“Let me guess,” Sal said smirking and looking more relaxed than he had since the last time Allie had seen him in her store. “You were around to see these trees’ parents start growing?”
“Parents?” Kisusq laughed. “Kid, I was around when this area was covered in glacier and there were no trees here.”
The two kept bantering back and forth as Allie ducked into the tent, her head spinning. She didn’t dare let herself try to think about when the last glacier had passed through this area – it was a number at least in the 6 digits. She had thought the older elves intimidating whenever she encountered them and she could always tell when she met an elf who was more than two thousand – she thought anyway – because they radiated power. The idea that she’d just spent a meal around a fire joking and sharing jabs with a being who was 10,000 or more years old was something she simply couldn’t wrap her head around.
Dear ever-loving Gods she thought, still dumbfounded, as she settled at the rear of the tent with her back to the canvas wall, no wonder he thinks we’re babies. He’d probably think Bleidd was a baby and he’s over a thousand.
Pushing that thought away she struggled to reach out to Jess and Bleidd wanting to see how they were doing. She knew as tired as she was that she wouldn’t be able to stay awake for long now that she was laying down. Yet she couldn’t go to sleep without making sure that the people she loved were alright.
*************************
Jess rolled over, waking up slowly, the book he’d been reading resting on his chest where it had fallen. The fire was still burning brightly. Brynneth lay unmoving; Tashlin slept restlessly. Grimacing Jess sat up and finally saw Bleidd standing near the cave entrance looking out into the early evening forest.
“I am sorry Gadreene, I did not mean to fall asleep,” he said chagrined.
Bleidd turned unable to fully hide his relief seeing Jess awake. “Do not worry Commander, if you slept it was because you needed it. How is the leg?”
Jess cautiously stretched his injured leg out and then moved it back and forth slowly. “Still painful, but improved. I believe by tomorrow I will be walking with a minimal limp.”
“Then it is well you slept.” Bleidd said. His mood seemed off to Jess, but he didn’t want to push. He knew that the former Outcast had been dealing with a lot over the past few days and also that he was as tired as the others had been, including Jess, yet had stayed awake to guard them.
Jess tucked the book away, a paperback that Allie had given him and which he had never found time to read, before climbing to his feet. The two injured elves slept, and there was a large pile of firewood, so he went over to Bleidd, “It is your turn to rest now.”
“I can stay on guard with you,” Bleidd said.
Jess shook his head, “No, we don’t know how long the others will be out and if it is you and I alone who will be taking shifts for an indeterminate amount of time then we should each rest when we can. Get some sleep, and I will tend the fire and keep watch.”
Bleidd hesitated then leaned in, wrapping his arms around Jess’s body in a fierce embrace. “As you will Commander. I wouldn’t want you putting me on notice for insubordination.”
Jess smiled at the jest, “I wouldn’t waste the time filling out paperwork for what is clearly a personality characteristic.”
Bleidd responded with a ghost of smile, moving across to the bed Jess had just vacated. “You know me too well.”
“I will take that as high praise,” he said, watching until Bleidd had settled himself into the blankets and closed his eyes. Only when he was sure that the other elf was actually trying to sleep did he go to sit by the fire, unknowingly taking the same position Bleidd had spent most of the afternoon in.
A thick silence fell over the space, broken only by the small noises of breathing and the fire crackling. Jess had not expected to feel so lonely, but the sensation hit him as he leaned against the cave wall. He had commanded a Guard squad for nearly a century and had assignments go badly before. He had lost people under his command and dealt with injuries, as well as finding himself in skirmishes and full battles of various circumstances. But t
his was the first time in all his duty with the Guard that he had found himself trapped away from any kind of immediate backup or support, with all of his people and himself hurt and their goal not accomplished. It wasn’t even the failure that gnawed at him but the isolation, the feeling of being alone and still having a job to do.
He stared at the sliver of clear sky visible above the tree line from where he stood, grateful that at least the weather was holding so far. Glancing back he watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Bleidd’s chest and was certain that the other elf slept. To have fallen asleep so quickly he must have been truly exhausted. Jess allowed himself the brief luxury of worrying about how tired the mage was, not as a fellow Guard member but as his spouse. I should not have allowed him to do this Jess thought morosely to join the Guard. No matter how much I value having him at my side it is too dangerous for both of us to be serving. What will Allie do if we both perish? Could she even survive that? And if she did how would she manage without us? She needs us as much as we need her. And yet what could I have done? It is not for me to turn away a worthy candidate when we are looking for more Guards and he is eminently qualified. I think Zarethyn would have asked him months ago – would have asked him indeed as soon as he was redeemed – if he had thought for even a moment that Bleidd would consider joining us. Yet why should he think so, when he insists on being called Bleidd and not Morighent and won’t even name his clan publicly? He has acted for all this time as if he does not want to rejoin society. Even when I gave him that sword as a courting gift he had to be persuaded to take it, knowing what it meant. And yet now he lunges at the opportunity to join us and to claim a place among the Guard here.
Jess sighed aloud, still feeling like he should somehow have prevented this and yet unable to see how, and unable to deny that he still, despite it all, was glad to have Bleidd by his side. He was adding another large branch to the fire and debating eating some of their emergency rations when Allie spoke into his mind. All of the tension flooded out of him at the sound of her voice.
Dark of Winter: A Between the Worlds novel Page 21
