“Sylvie! Get down here… now!” Sylvan might be king to over a thousand sprites but that did not afford him any additional respect, at least not in Clarice’s kitchen. She had known Sylvan since he was just a tad and used to pull her braids by the waterfall.
Pollo’s ma sliced one of the warm loaves and spread the bread with nutty butter and honey. She instructed Pollo to bring Hiss a bucket of milk and they ate lunch while waiting for Sylvan to appear.
Sylvan Goodwing’s home was constructed around the trunk of a cedar tree. It spiraled up the tree in many layers of rooms, and the king kept his office and library at the top level, far from the hubbub of his large family and the animals under his care.
He heard his wife bellow from the kitchen, and sighed. I know that the village is a mess, Clary, he grumbled under his breath. What do you think I am doing, but organizing the clean-up efforts? He added with some guilt, as she had actually caught him napping. He stood up, smoothing his riotous red whiskers into order.
Shaking his head, Sylvan wondered at his own frailty. He knew that the dark magic he could feel in everything, and sense almost everywhere was sapping his strength. The fact that he had just received the worst news he could ever imagine did not help matters any.
Glancing at the missive on his desk, Sylvan sighed. The fair had been cancelled, apparently, and all magical beings were advised to stay home and to put wards around their homes, villages and territories as quickly as possible.
A tear fell from one of the king’s green eyes. Timeron, fairy king of the underworld, had just declared war on man.
Chapter 4
School was cancelled for the rest of the day. Sara, Nate and Chloe sat on a stone bench in the common area in front of the high school as busses rolled up and kids piled into their parents cars, or started their own automobiles to head home.
There were two injuries on campus, (a broken collarbone and a gash on the cheek which needed stitches), that required hospitalization for the unfortunate teenagers. The rest of the student body, however, was almost giddy with relief and excitement at being dismissed from school for at least a day, maybe more, pending investigation of the damage done to the building’s infrastructure.
Chloe was talking to her mother on her cell phone. Mary Tan was a nurse/practitioner at the local medical clinic. Many patients were lined up in the waiting room… older folks with bumps and bruises, one elderly woman with a broken hip, and a clerk at the grocery store who had been hit on the head by a falling piece of antique tack, used as a display piece in the meat department.
Sara heard Chloe say, “No Mom, we’re alright. A couple of kids were taken to the hospital, but Nate and I…” she glanced at Sara, “and a new girl are just sitting out front of the school watching everyone go home.” She listened for a moment, and then asked, “Mom, would it be okay if I brought my friends by the house? Sara’s dad,” she paused again, and added, “Sara’s the new girl I told you about.” She continued, “As I was saying, Sara’s dad called and said he’s stuck at the mine… there was a cave-in and some drillers were hurt.”
Chloe rolled her eyes in silence for a moment, and then answered, “Okay, thanks Mom… we will, I promise… bye!” Hanging up, she laughed. “My mom is freaking out, but she said it’s okay if you guys want to come to the house for lunch.”
Nate, who was still staring at the almost invisible cut on his arm, nodded and said, “Cool”.
Sara was so grateful for the invitation she felt like weeping. She still felt weak and shaky since doing… whatever it was she did to Nate’s arm. In addition, she was tense over having to start over again in a new school, and at what she thought she saw on her way here this morning. Now, the shock of the earthquake, the injuries sustained by some of the students, and everything else seemed to have caught up with her. Especially since her dad had said that if she was okay, he needed to stay late at work to assess damage to the mine’s tunnel walls.
She was exhausted, fearful and afraid of being alone. Chloe, however, seemed indefatigable. “Let’s go then, come on,” she ordered, picking up a backpack that was half as big as she was.
They turned left on the street and started walking into the town proper. The little town of Ashbrook contained large Cape Cod and Victorian mansions, sitting side by side with tiny cottages, and one-room, modernized shacks. First established in the late 1800’s, the town sprang up overnight when gold was found two miles away. Mine owners and wealthy land barons built houses, a general store, two churches, five bars, and a railway station while the miners themselves either made it big, or went broke trying.
There was no real planning as the town arose, almost overnight. That is why the nicest houses in town rubbed shoulders with some of the worst. Sara saw evidence of this as they walked up the street toward both Chloe and Nate’s homes. Chloe and her mom lived in a handsome gray Cape Cod, with red shutters and a beautifully landscaped front yard.
Nate’s home was situated across the street and up three houses on the corner. It was a tiny ramshackle place, with peeling yellow paint and a sagging front porch. It was tidy enough, Sara thought, but looked forlorn and out of place sitting next to its grander neighbors. Nate looked ashamed when he pointed his house out to her, but grinned as he saw a dog come tearing out from under the porch.
“Hold on a sec,” he said and ran up the street to let the dog out of the yard. It looked like a German shepherd. Barking in joy, it spun circles while Nate lifted the latch on the front gate. Then the boy and his pet danced together on the sidewalk for a moment before walking back down the street to where Sara and Chloe waited.
“Don’t say anything,” Chloe murmured, “but Nate has it kind of rough. I’ll tell you about it later, okay?” Sara nodded, smiling, as the shepherd walked up to her, sat down and lifted one paw to shake. Laughing, she shook the dog’s paw and asked, “Hi buddy, what’s your name?”
“This is Mike, the dog,” Nate answered with a grin. “He’s a good guy.”
Chloe said, “Come on, let’s go in and get a bite to eat, okay? I’m starving.”
Sara followed her new friends up the driveway and onto the front porch. She saw a meticulously maintained yard containing a beautiful, tiny bonsai garden… Buddha and all.
They stepped in the front door, dropped their bags on a sofa and then followed Chloe into the kitchen. The young people talked while she fixed grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. For the first time in years, Sara began to relax. She felt like she was at home. After eating lunch, cleaning up the kitchen and going up to Chloe’s bedroom to hang out and watch TV, she fell asleep, secure in the knowledge that she was amongst friends.
*
In a different realm, Sylvan reached the ground level of his home and saw the large silhouette of Hissaphat the cat, darkening the doorway. Doffing his tall, pointed cap, Sylvan bowed slightly and said, “Greetings, old friend. What brings you by today?”
Hiss blinked and said, “Good afternoon, your highness. I am here to stand as witness for your son, Pollo.”
“Pollo!” the old king sputtered, “What has that boy done now?”
Hiss grinned and said, “Be at peace, Sir. Pollo has done nothing wrong except, perhaps be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Well, whole realms have fallen by that action, alone!” Sylvan retorted. “Stay there, Hiss, if you please. I’ll go and fetch the boy so that we can speak outside.” The king strode into the kitchen and a few moments later, he and his youngest son emerged into the great room. Hiss heard the king say, “… and if I don’t like what I hear about your latest adventure, I’ll take a strap to your backside, I vow it!”
Pollo’s face was red and he was frantically trying to wipe honey off his cheeks and nose as he scurried after his father, the king. Hiss couldn’t help but sympathize with the youngster. Pollo had been in trouble a number of times, after all. His mishaps were usually a lapse in judgment, however, or a failed attempt at being a hero… never, as far as Hiss could tell, had
the sprite done anything mean, or spiteful (unlike his brother, Peat).
Once, he had inadvertently flown headfirst into a beehive while trying to fly, like his two older brothers. Everybody knew, including Pollo, that sprites wings did not develop until they were well past adolescence. Still, tired of being outdone by his brothers, the sprite launched his body off a tree limb and took the whole hive down with him as he fell to the ground. Several bees were injured in the accident and the village went without honey for the season as punishment for the infraction.
Another time, Pollo snuck out of the house in order to give care and refreshment to a wounded elf, named Rondel. The tall, handsome elf was grievously injured and needed all the help the sprites could offer, but Sylvan’s people were warned not to interfere, or take sides in elven politics by offering asylum. Sylvan did not like it one bit, but he knew better than to get on the wrong side of Faryal, the current Elven queen.
Unbeknownst to Pollo, the wounded elf was being watched and monitored as he made his painful way to a high peak, known as Frost Beard. He was hoping to find the healer, Torri, who he hoped would cleanse and bless the sword cuts on his shoulders and back, sustained during one of the more recent, incessant battles waged between the elves for political control.
Pollo saw the elf and felt sorry for him. His pale skin was flushed with fever, and his huge purple eyes were hollow with pain and fatigue. Those eyes had landed on Pollo with the weight of an anvil, as Rondel stopped for a quick cup of water close to the sprite’s village.
Pollo followed the elf as he made his way north and watched as Rondel lay down by an old cedar tree to rest. One tear, as bright as a diamond, fell from his eye as he curled up in his cloak and fell asleep.
Pollo went against his father’s orders and ran back to the village as fast as he could. He snuck into his mother’s kitchen, grabbed some bread, cheese, honey and milk, put them all in a kerchief and ran back to where the elf slept. Creeping close, as quietly as a mouse, Pollo placed the bundle on the ground by the sleeping figure, then ran away to hide in a tall tree.
Pollo had no sooner got himself situated when he saw two other elves walk up to where Rondel lay. One of the elves, an older one with long gray hair, glanced up at where Pollo perched in the tree and then helped himself to the food. The other elf, a handsome blonde-haired male with malevolent eyes, administered the sleeping elf a hard kick to the ribs and screamed, “No help, traitor…none!”
The wounded elf sat up, wincing in pain, as the others faded back into the trees and out of sight. Rondel searched the forest for a moment and then spied Pollo, who was jumping from limb to limb trying to make his way down from the tree’s heights and back home.
“Thank you, little sprite,” he whispered to the retreating figure. “I will not forget your succor.”
A speedy return home, however, only meant a hastier punishment, as Pollo would soon discover. The two elves that followed Rondel had already returned to the sprite’s village and spoken to the king about his son’s clear violation of Elven laws. They sought retribution now, in the form of physical punishment. Although rewarding Pollo’s kindness with discipline went against Sylvan’s very essence, the elves demanded no less than ten stripes for the boy’s crime.
Sylvan tried to explain that corporal punishment in the form of a whipping might ruin Pollo’s new, budding wings but the elves were adamant. Knowing that a sprite had less influence than an ant in the fairy world hierarchy, Sylvan had no choice but to agree.
An hour after Pollo’s return, the villagers gathered, weeping as the king himself delivered ten blows to his youngest son’s back with a stout willow switch. That the young sprite did not cry out, or wail with pain spoke to his courage and dignity. He was a good son, and Sylvan’s heart twisted with grief and newfound resentment toward the elves who lounged by a nearby tree, laughing with scorn as the sprite writhed silently against the pain.
That was two years ago. Although Pollo was always cheerful, and usually obedient, his wings had never properly developed. He could fly in short bursts for a limited distance, but the magical filmy filaments that comprised all sprites’ wings were damaged beyond repair.
Sylvan had never forgiven himself and now his eyes sought those of his son’s, as they joined Hissaphat in the yard to talk about this new trouble. Masking his fear, the king lit his pipe and growled, “Well, let’s have it, then.”
Hissaphat and Pollo exchanged a glance, and then Pollo said, “Pa, I found us a good witch.”
Chapter 5
Sara was still sleeping when Nate stood up and said, “I need to go home. My mom is going to want the house picked up when she gets back.” Mike the dog slid off the couch he was sharing with Sara and yawned.
Chloe nodded and stared at Sara thoughtfully. She and Nate had spoken quietly after their new friend curled up on the couch and fell asleep. Nate showed Chloe his arm. The large cut was healing rapidly and large, fading bruises colored the boy’s arm, in shades of yellow and green, from elbow to wrist.
Chloe had to agree… it looked like a serious injury sustained days or weeks ago, rather than just three hours before. “Does it hurt?” Chloe stared into her friend’s bright blue eyes.
Nate nodded, “Yeah, a little. It itches, like when I broke my leg two years ago, skiing.”
They looked at Sara again. The pretty, blonde-haired girl slept with her hand between Mike’s ears. She was deathly pale and blue shadows stained the hollows of her eyes. She looked ill and Nate wondered if they should awaken her to see if she needed help.
He voiced his concerns to Chloe, but she shook her head. “Nah, I think she was just really tired, Nate. I’ll let her sleep and have my mom take a look at her when she gets home.” Chloe glanced at the Minnie the Mouse clock on the wall above her computer, adding, “That’s in an hour.”
Nate stood up and Mike the dog joined his master as Nate gathered his book bag and jacket to go home. “Okay, Chlo, I’ll see you tomorrow at school… if there IS school. Otherwise, call me if anything happens?”
Chloe followed him down the stairs and said, “Hey, do you work tonight? Maybe, if Sara is up for it, we can come down and say hi later.”
“Yeah, from 7:00 to 11:00, if the earthquake didn’t do any damage, that is…” Nate and Mike strode down the walkway and up the sidewalk toward home. Chloe stared after him for a moment. Nate was the nicest guy in the world, or so she thought, anyway. It just didn’t seem fair that he was saddled with the worst parents… ever.
Nate’s dad, Lenny, was a long-distance truck driver, who spent more time on the road than he did at home. Unfortunately, when he did come home, it was only to give his wife and son a beating, or an apology for spending his paycheck in the casinos of Las Vegas, which his route took him through every four days. Nate’s mom wasn’t much better. A waitress at the same truck stop she had first met her wayward husband, Nadine worked the morning shift and spent most of her tips in the bar after work, before heading home.
Nate was essentially on his own. He got himself off to school, made good grades, worked a dishwasher job at the at the Full Moon cafe four nights a week, and did all the house and yard work at home. More importantly, he did it all with a smile and a generosity of spirit that sometimes rendered Chloe speechless with sympathy and anger at the casual cruelty of Nate’s parents.
Chloe went back inside and grabbed two Cokes from the refrigerator before heading up to her room. She saw that Sara was awake and staring blearily at the TV as she entered. Smiling, she handed Sara one of the soft drinks, and said, “Hi, are you feeling better now?”
Sara grinned. “Yeah… a lot, actually. I’m sorry I conked out on you guys. I don’t know what came over me.” She took a drink from the can and looked around. “Where’s Nate?”
“He needed to head home but, you know, I was thinking that maybe, if your dad says it’s okay, we could head down to the Full Moon tonight? It’s a restaurant where a lot of the kids go to hang out on school nights. I bet there wi
ll be a pretty big crowd there tonight, after what happened this morning,” Chloe grinned and added, “also, Nate works there.”
Sara blushed. “He seems really nice. Are you two…?”
“… An item?” Chloe finished Sara’s unspoken thought. “Nah, we’re just friends. We’ve been friends since the fourth grade and, although I think he’s pretty hot now that he’s getting past the geek stage, I don’t think either one of us are interested in anything more, you know?” She studied Sara’s face for a moment. “I think Nate might feel differently towards you, though, especially after what you did for him.”
Sara shook her head. “Really, I didn’t do anything! I think that there was just a lot of blood, and we both thought it was worse than what it was…” she stopped, staring at the floor in confusion as the memory of Nate’s arterial blood spurting out of the deadly gash in his arm surfaced again in her mind.
Chloe watched her new friend’s face for a moment and then said, “Okay, fine. He’s all right now. That’s what matters, right?”
Nodding gratefully, Sara stood up and said, “Wow!” as the room swirled around her.
Chloe grabbed Sara’s arm and said, “Hey, are you dizzy? Sit down for a minute. I think my mom should have a look at you… she’ll be home in just a few minutes.”
For a moment, it sounded as if Chloe was a million miles away and then, with a rush, Sara was back and staring up at the tiny girl with wings who was gazing back down at her with concern.
“No… no,” Sara smiled. “I’m fine, really! Just stood up too fast, I think.”
She did feel good, suddenly, as if the nap she took had healed what ailed her. She was also happy and hopeful for the first time, in a long time. She had found a new friend it seemed, and maybe even a possible new boyfriend…
The War of Odds Page 3
