Lira ran to her and kissed her on the cheek, holding her tightly. “Thank you, Mani.”
In a softer voice, Alarif said, “My darling child, that Elf you sat next to is a good male. I can hear his love for you. Please marry him, and break our curse. I do not want you to suffer alone as I have.”
“I will try,” Lira promised.
Another female stood. “Alarif’s bitterness has turned sweet, for her half-demon daughter has worked for our sakes and protected us from the evil sides of the humans. I, Utopir, will sign.”
“I follow my wife in all things, for she is very wise,” said her husband, walking up.
“Does the name of a child help?” asked a little lad in the back.
Kryvek raised his hands and shouted, “We need everyone! Every name! We thank you from the ends of our spirits.”
The first hundred Elves formed a line, while the others ran about making preparations for a communal lunch—not a feast in the strictest sense, for no one had shot a deer recently. One female began to sing, developing the words and notes as she went along. A friend of hers played a string instrument, similar to a guitar, following the tune. The song was about the need for cooperation and peace among the humans, Elves, and demons, and the majesty of all speaking things, and then the wonder of all living things. Other Elves picked up the chorus and repeated it. As they sang, the clouds formed shapes. No one knew what the shapes represented, but they were beautiful. There was no need for them to be anything else.
An elderly Elf, around a hundred and twenty years old, tapped Lira on the shoulder when he came to sign. “I would like to thank you on the Elders’ behalf for not bringing humans. It would not necessarily be a disaster if you did, but it would be a strong risk.”
“I kept the Clan’s feelings in consideration, Great-Uncle.”
“Am I your great-uncle? I cannot keep track of you all.”
“Especially since I am illegitimate.”
“Actually, in consideration of your service, we are discussing making it a Clan rule to be more kind to half-Eudemon children and their mothers. We are not sure how to go about it, and we will meet resistance, but your ideas would be appreciated.”
“I am afraid I will have to return to Laconia—the human town—this evening, but I can send you letters.”
“That would be acceptable. Let your young male oversee the signing. Come eat.” His smile lit up his smooth, wrinkled face, framed by shoulder-long white hair.
“So, I am your young male, Lira?” Edofine asked, grinning.
Lira handed him the book and playfully punched him on the shoulder. “You seem obscenely satisfied with the prospect, so as long as it keeps you happy.” She curtseyed to those who were waiting and headed for the tables.
The village gathered among the trees, weaving in and out of them. They would never fell a single tree to make a clearing. On five long tables, each between two long benches, sat what their gardens, gatherings, and hunting had recently yielded. There were also bowls of well water—Elves used heavily-diluted wine as medicine, because they were so sensitive to alcohol—and river-sand to scrub their hands.
A fourteen-year-old female climbed a tree and sang, “Though we share our food every day, what a joy it is! Though we run and climb every day, what a good thing it is! We sing to the spirits and they sing to us and keep the Eudemons away—when we are left alone together, what a miracle it is!”
“If the Eudemons come,” replied a sixteen-year-old male, “what an adventure it is. When we fight and beat them back, we celebrate our victory. Oh parents who have lost your children, be comforted by the Clan, and oh, children who have lost your parents, you will find parents in the Clan.”
Lira hummed along, then looked around, puzzled, when she heard a familiar voice. She couldn’t place it for a moment and then realized the reason she couldn’t was this voice had only once sung in Elvish in her presence. It was Kryvek, standing on one of the tables.
The rhymes were significantly better in Elvish, but he approximated it in English many years later: “Though you are not of my tribe, my dear Elves in the Arrows Clan, I wish to say I have never felt this way since my life began. I sought a different life to forget the tragedy my parents made, so I covered my ears and cut short my hair as my new family said. I had regrets of course, but by and large I forgot who I was, but now I have returned to celebrate my roots because...”
“What was that?” Lira shouted.
Kryvek smiled. “Edofine, my courageous kinsman he, showed me what modern life and the grand city was lacking for me, and though I maintain my new home, I surely wishwe could be friends and let me visit when I can, to show you need not forget the Elf when you become a Man.”
Everyone clapped. “Would you care to join us, Edofine? We do not blame you for surviving, and could use your courage and skill,” Lira’s great-uncle said.
Edofine blushed when he realized everyone stared at him. “I would, kind sir, except for one quandary. I love Lira, and I wish to spend my life with her wherever she chooses. She has friends in the human world, and so do I. Could we consider you family and visit, as Kryvek suggested? Lira has worked hard to carve a place in Laconia, and we need representatives for the Elves among the humans to keep the other Elves safe.”
“That is a brave thing indeed. I hear human life is terrible,” commented one Elf.
“There are compensations. Kryvek, could you hold the book?” He handed over his responsibility, and then Edofine slipped over to Lira’s side. “Have I embarrassed you?”
“Nobody has ever said they loved me while anyone else was listening.” They wrapped their arms around each other as Lira wept.
With smiles on all sides, the Elves went to their own ways of eating or waiting to sign the petition. A few females handed out foods and plates to the Elves in line, who then were able to enjoy the banquet without leaving their posts. Some of the youngest children signed with squiggles that their parents sang to, turning them into recognizable names in Roman letters.
Lira and Edofine helped with the cleaning up, washing dishes in the stream, scrubbing down tables, and stacking them by the side of the Council Hut. Once confident the Elves could handle signing the petition without him watching, Kryvek soon gathered a circle of enthralled children while teaching them the Do, Re, Mi song, with the solfege hand gestures accompanying it.
Alarif was watching her daughter from afar when a widower named Gythian approached her. “Remember when we were sweethearts?” he asked Alarif.
Alarif dropped her sewing, surprised. “Yes, I do. We were betrothed until that Eudemon raid, and afterwards you said you had no desire for a flower that had already been plucked.”
“I wish to apologize. I was happy with Hayannav, but when the Eudemons killed her I finally understood how you felt. I stayed away from you still when Lira joined humanity, for I thought you taught her to hate us. Now I see you taught her to think of us as her people and to remember her people. Would you give me another chance?”
They took each other’s hands, and then left the group to sit by the bank a quarter mile away. What passed between them was unknown to any other part or full Elves. The sewing lay there in the grass, undisturbed, for several hours.
After the meal the Elves who had already signed went to their homes and gardens. Holding hands, Lira and Edofine strolled by the neat wooden cabins, surrounded by flowers and vegetables. In order to not chop many trees down some houses surrounded trees, with the tree growing right through the middle of the living room with a hole in the roof to allow the tree to grow. Other houses curved in odd shapes so they could weave in and out of the trees.
“Have you returned to visit before?” Edofine asked.
“Late at night, when everyone was asleep, I sneaked in to spend a few hours talking to my mother. This is the first time I have visited in the day.”
“It makes one pity the Eudemons for their inability to make Space Enclosures, which hide the village so well.”
“If they did not spend all their time planning how to loot, rape, and murder us, they probably would have developed a spell of that kind by now. If they were forced to go without killing, they would find ways to accomplish magic besides blood sacrifice.”
“You genuinely hate the Eudemons, do you not?”
“I hate my father and I suppose that spread to the entire species.”
“Can we not make Space Enclosures for them?”
“We could if they stopped attacking us. Do you not feel any bitterness for how they destroyed your entire Clan?”
Edofine nodded. “Yes. Still, I think it is a shame. If we were kinder, perhaps the violence would end.”
“You should join the United Nations, Edofine. They need people like you.”
“I read of them in a book Sara gave me. I think I would like to be a pe-se-chia-ter-ist.”
“Psychiatrist?”
“Yes. Does the OMHI have any advice?”
“I will ask them. They helped one Elf become a librarian last year. If you can pass a state exam I think you can get a license. It’s an intensely long period of study, though. A minimum of eight years.”
“We could make a Time Bubble in Kryvek’s apartment, and I could study for years in there and come out with you having aged only a few days. Then I would be older than you.”
“We will look into that. I told the other departments to contact as many Elves as they can.” She kissed him. “Your idea might save the OMHI from those budget cuts.”
A little female, probably ten years old, ran up to them. “Can you help us play tumbleball?”
“Certainly, flower bud,” Edofine replied. “Lira, would you like to join?”
“All right,” Lira said.
The sun was setting when Kryvek, Edofine, and Lira left the Arrows Clan, laden with goodies for Christine and the Tufts, and possibly even Krith if someone could burn them badly enough. After they passed a yew tree with special symbols carved on it, the forest shrank until what was a ten-mile radius on the inside became a one-mile radius on the outside. No houses or Elves were visible in the darkening wood.
Chapter Thirteen
Innovators and Junkies and Culprits
Lira had just walked in the door and still wore her business suit, gray, with a necklace of pearls as the only ornament. For once her deeply maroon hair was not hanging loose, but instead was swept back in a butterfly clip, revealing her pointed ears.
She dumped five textbooks on Edofine’s lap, ignoring his quiet exclamation of, “Ouch!” Then she sat down, speaking with a tone of admiration. “The OMHI has received nearly three million signatures on the petition for funds. It’s all because of you, Firefly. The letters are still pouring in after two days.”
Edofine blinked, smiling broadly as Lira kissed him on the cheek. He wore a t-shirt for the first time in his life, a Greenpeace design obscured by his waterfall of brown hair. “I enjoy the diminutive you have chosen to call me. I knew not there were so many Elves in contact with the Official Magics-Human Institute. What are these?” He picked up the books one by one and examined them: The Human Mind, Andrews and MacMillian Guide to Psychology, The Diagnostic Dictionary, and A Complete List of Psychiatric Disorders, Symptoms, and Treatments.
“First, we don’t know all those Elves and part-Elves, but everyone we called knew of others, who knew of others, and so on. One of our mail sorters claims he has ten signatures from New Zealand, though what Elves are doing there I have no idea. Second, these books, a CD containing the other information you need, all the food you’ll require for eight years in a time bubble, and all the forged diplomas and credentials they’ll fabricate once you pass certain tests at the end are the OMHI’s payment for your assisting them. You have to sign a contract promising to be on call to help them in the future. It’s in my briefcase.” As Lira spoke, Christine staggered into the apartment, taking off her bulky coat and flinging it across the room.
Christine looked around. The place gleamed on every surface and had the scent of an old-growth forest. “Thank you for cleaning our home, Edofine. It’s marvelous. Did you use magic?”
“I sang as I scrubbed, that is all. You are welcome, fine lady.” Edofine turned back to Lira. “It seems a great reward for a simple idea.”
“People pay millions for good ideas,” Christine replied. “If you were the mercenary type you would have insisted they hire you as a creative consultant. Lira, is it okay if I take a shower? The office’s air conditioning’s been cut off and I’m all sticky.”
Lira waved her approval. “Go ahead. Where’s Kryvek?”
Edofine said, “School began today, so he had to leave and teach students how to sing. Why do human children have three months off from learning?”
“Only in this country. It used to be so they could help their parents with the harvest but now it’s obsolete. They’d make a huge fuss if someone tried to take it away, though. So what are you doing for dinner?”
“Sara and John have invited me, for Sara wishes for John to know me better. Have you asked anyone else what to do with Krith? Kryvek is complaining about his electric bill from having the oven constantly turned on and Krith is complaining of ennui from sitting alone in the oven.”
“I asked as many people as I could, and no one knows what to do with an exiled Archaedemon. It’s a pity he can’t emit heat without losing body mass, because otherwise he could replace the OMHI’S furnace. We haven’t heard yet from D.C. about whether they will restore our funding. The post office sent some of the petition off today—the rest must wait until they have pasted all the signatures into one or more books.”
“Something about Krith perturbs me. He continues to plead for asbestos cigars and boiling whisky, and now when I speak to him or watch him play solitaire he constantly trembles and seems in low spirits. We managed to move the visual box so he could watch the stories.”
“Is there any show he particularly likes?” Lira couldn’t resist running her fingers through Edofine’s chocolate tresses.
“Something called Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It has demons in it, even if they are mostly not the real kind. And everyone knows vampires survive sunlight. It merely gives them headaches and takes years off their lives.”
Lira snuggled up against Edofine’s chest. He blushed, but grinned, and put an arm around her shoulders. “He may be in withdrawal. Alcohol and nicotine are powerful addictives, and ceasing to use them is very difficult. Or so I’ve heard—I’ve never tried any mood-altering chemical.”
“Should I bring a gift to John and Sara when I dine with them? I know not the etiquette.”
“For something casual, among friends, not celebrating a holiday, you don’t need anything. For a formal dinner party you would take a bottle of wine—or sparkling cider, if they don’t drink.”
Lira and Edofine indulged in a more elaborate display of affection before Lira reluctantly pried herself out of the cushions. “I need to change and do some work that I brought home. If Kryvek’s still gone after you’ve left the Tufts, care to come over?”
“Christine prefers an evening alone with you, without my intrusion.”
“See? That’s why I regret not hearing the thought-music. You’ll have to be my emotional interpreter.”
“Certainly I will, Joy Tears.”
“If my name meant Joy Tears instead of Fierce Tears, I’d be called Tira.”
“Patronymics are truly an enthralling subject, Tira. Wish me well.”
“I always do.”
Edofine left Lira and swiftly arrived next door. He knocked. “Mister and Mrs. Tuft?”
The open doorway revealed John in a red plaid shirt, long black pants, and a stony face. “Hello, Edofine. Come in.”
Edofine felt wounded, since he could hear John’s reluctance, but said nothing. The apartment was neat and fully unpacked, if sparsely furnished. Kryvek explained to Edofine that recently married couples often have little money. Instead of a couch there were four large, square, yellow cushions in a pi
le, and the kitchen flowed into the dining room with no clear separation. There were two pictures in frames, one of Sara’s family and one of John’s, sitting on top of the refrigerator, which had a built-in microwave. The walls were decorated with posters—two of the same man singing from different angles with the label ‘Bruce Springsteen’, and five that sported drawings of very thin youths with strangely-colored hair and humongous eyes.
“Tell me, what are those?” Edofine asked, gesturing at the drawn posters.
“Oh, those are manga characters,” Sara responded. She was busy setting the table with blue plates that were all cracked. Edofine sensed that she was happy, slightly nervous, and keeping a pleasant secret.
“Manga?”
John strode over to his wife and encircled her waist with his arm, kissing her on the shoulder. It was an unmistakable statement of this is mine, and I’m not sharing. He said, “It is a Japanese art form of graphic novels.”
“Books with pictures?” Edofine spotted a trench coat and a mound of sewing equipment on the coffee table, and went closer to inspect it.
Sara snatched it up and hid it in the bedroom. “You can see it when it’s finished.”
“She won’t even tell me what it is,” John said. “Care to sit? Would you like a drink? We have lemonade, orange juice, beer, and coffee.”
“Water will be sufficient,” Edofine said, pouring a glass from the sink and taking a sip. He placed it on the table. “I appreciate your efforts to conceal your hostility. It’s very gentlemanlike of you. How are you dealing with new knowledge?”
John took a seat. “I’m still getting used to it. It gives me the heebie-jeebies when you tell me what I’m feeling, though. Could you pretend you couldn’t tell?”
“He’s been asking all sorts of questions,” Sara added. “I told him about Krith’s exile and your singing that makes all the flowers appear. I also said you hated leather.” She went over to the stove and ladled soup into a serving bowl.
Humans and Demons and Elves Page 11
