by Pati Nagle
I tried to remember the last time I’d been fantasizing about Savhoran. Who was in the house?
“Shit!” I whispered.
“I can show you how to shield your thoughts.”
I gave her a look, but decided it was best to be open-minded. “OK.”
“You use white light. Ever done a guided meditation?”
“Uh, no.”
She told me about it. Sounded woo-woo but what the hell. It couldn’t hurt. We said good night, and I did the white light shield, then I took out Savhoran’s letter.
There was no hint in it that he wanted to see me again. No promise of anything for the future. I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.
After that, I was nervous about being around the cousins. Kept wondering if they were listening in on my thoughts. Not that I was all that entertaining, but it gave me the creeps to think they could hear every little stupid idea that went through my brain. It didn’t help that they never let me leave the house alone, and there was always at least one of them with us at home. I practiced the white-light thing every day, whenever I thought of it.
The only time I didn’t have at least one of the ælven nearby was when I was at work, and even then they hung around outside the library. I didn’t complain because I knew they were protecting me.
Every now and then I noticed one of them watching me—not just watching over me, but looking at me as if they were thinking something. Caeran did it most of all.
I wrote Savhoran another letter. I was careful not to plead or show any expectations, but I wanted to let him know I still cared. If we stopped corresponding it wouldn’t be my doing.
I kind of regretted thinking that, because he didn’t answer. After a couple of weeks I got really antsy, then I got depressed. I told myself it was for the best, but that wasn’t any comfort.
One night we were all having supper when Caeran made an announcement. “I would like to celebrate Midsummer.”
I stared at him, trying to figure out what he meant.
“Summer solstice,” Len said. “They celebrate the solstices and equinoxes.”
“Oh. You mean like religion?”
“Sort of. Closest thing we have to it is paganism.”
Caeran glanced at her. “Paganism is based on what we taught humans long ago.”
“So are a lot of our customs,” Len said.
“But not all.”
She smiled at him. “You going to tell them?”
A slow smile spread on his face as they gazed at each other. “Shall I?”
Len turned pink, which she rarely did. Caeran cleared his throat.
“Len and I intend to cup-bond at Midsummer.”
Mixed reaction from the cousins. Faranin frowned a little; Lomen smiled and congratulated them. I sat wondering what a cup-bond was.
“It is a promise of fidelity for a year and a day,” said Bironan.
Dammit. Forgot to shield.
“OK,” I said. “So, a short-term marriage?”
“In a sense, yes,” Caeran said. “We do not have marriage—that is a human custom. Our equivalents are the cup-bond and handfasting, which is a life-long commitment.”
“No divorce, huh? All or nothing?”
He nodded. “That is why we have the cup-bond. It is a way to try commitment without being bound to it forever.”
I remembered Len telling me he’d been married—to the human mother of his children—back in the 1700’s. So ælven could marry, except I figured they considered it life-long, like handfasting.
“Well, congratulations,” I said. “So Midsummer will be a party?”
“Yes.”
Caeran smiled at Len again, and I looked down at my plate. I was happy for them, but wished I could be as lucky. I still missed Savhoran.
Funny how you can get attached to someone on pretty short acquaintance. Maybe it’s true that absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I picked at the rest of my supper and listened to them making plans. The solstice was on the following Wednesday, so Len and I would be working. Caeran asked Faranin and Bironan to watch us while he and Lomen set up the back yard for their Midsummer ceremony. I was mildly intrigued, but it was ælven stuff and a lot of it I didn’t understand. Still, it was something to look forward to.
I didn’t ask if they were going to invite anyone else. They never had other humans over to the house.
Funny thing was, I didn’t miss my other friends. None of them were as close as Len.
The cousins were strange sometimes, and they tended to take everything too seriously (except Lomen, who occasionally cracked a joke), but they were OK companions. I’d gotten to where I wasn’t constantly comparing myself to them and coming up short.
Wednesday rolled around and Caeran drove me, Len, Faranin and Bironan to campus. I told Len I had stuff to do and asked if she’d mind not meeting for lunch. She probably guessed what I intended, but this was my only chance.
When my lunch break came, Bironan met me at the library doors. “Mind if we run an errand?” I asked him.
He frowned. “What errand?”
“I want to get Len and Caeran a present. Just at the liquor store—we can walk and be back by one.”
He shrugged and fell in beside me as I started for Central Avenue. The day was hot and I hadn’t thought of bringing a hat, so I’d probably get sunburned. Oh, well.
The liquor store had Gruet champagne—OK, sparkling wine, sorry French guys—a great New Mexico wine. I bought a bottle and stashed it in my backpack, then started back up the street with my escort patiently pacing me. I ducked into the campus pharmacy and bought a card, then picked up a junk-food sandwich and munched it on the way back to the library. Bironan said he wasn’t hungry.
The afternoon kind of crawled by. I did busy work at my station and couldn’t help remembering how last fall the other alben had come right into the library in daylight and abducted Len. I never saw him; Len said he’d worn a hooded sweatshirt pulled forward to protect his face. No reason why the alben girl couldn’t do the same. I greeted Bironan with a grateful smile when he met me at the doors at 4:30.
We walked to the parking lot, but Caeran wasn’t there so we walked on out to the street. I was just beginning to worry when I saw Len’s car coming toward us. I didn’t mind squeezing into the middle of the back seat. Safety in numbers.
At home—funny, I was already thinking of it as home—I hurried into the kitchen and hid the champagne in the bottom of the meat bin under all of Caeran’s lettuce. Pots were steaming on the stove top, and the smell from the oven made my mouth water.
There were voices talking in ælven out in the living room, and when I went out to investigate I saw Madóran standing there chatting with the others. Nathrin and a woman I didn’t recognize but who was obviously one of the clan were there too.
Nathrin saw me hanging back and beckoned to me. He and the woman turned toward me.
“Mirali, this is Amanda. Amanda, this is Mirali, my partner.”
Partner. OK, good thing I hadn’t tried to go for Nathrin.
“Hi,” I said, remembering not to offer a hand. Hand-shaking was a human thing. The ælven clasped arms instead, and they didn’t do it that often.
“Hello,” said Mirali.
“You guys come down for the ceremony?”
“Yes,” Nathrin said. “Midsummer is one of our sacred days. It is important to celebrate with kindred.”
I nodded like I knew all that. Mirali looked a little shy and I didn’t want to pester her, so I turned to listen to what the others were saying. They had shifted to English; Madóran was explaining how he’d got a neighbor to drive them down from Guadalupita.
He noticed me listening and turned to me with a smile. “I am glad to see you again, Amanda.”
“Thanks. It’s a nice surprise to see you, too.” I hesitated, feeling myself turning red. “How’s Savhoran?”
His face went serious, and he took a second to answer. “The last time I saw him he was
well. He has left my house.”
“Oh.” I was already blushing, so what the hell. “I wrote him a letter…”
Madóran nodded. “It arrived after he left. I kept it for him, but if you wish me to return it—”
“Oh, no, no. Not important. Just give it to him when you see him again.”
If you see him again. I didn’t want to say that.
I cleared my throat. “Would you like something to drink?”
By the time I fetched drinks for him and Nathrin and Mirali, I’d stopped blushing so hard. Everyone made themselves comfortable in the living room, sitting on the floor when they ran out of furniture. I played hostess until everyone had a drink who wanted one, then opened a soda for myself and drifted over to where Len was sitting on the arm of Caeran’s chair.
She smiled up at me. I bent down to whisper, “So when does the ceremony start?”
“Sunset. There’ll be a feast after.”
Sunset. As in, night coming. I was surprised Caeran wanted us to be outside after sundown, but then, the yard was fenced, so it was pretty private. And we’d all be together.
Sunset would be late—this was the longest day of the year, I knew that much—which meant that dinner would be late, too. I thought about sneaking a snack to tide me over. Caeran picked up a bowl of nuts from the coffee table and passed it to me.
Thanks.
He smiled and kept on talking. I took a handful of nuts and put the bowl down, and worked on practicing my white light for the rest of the evening.
Eventually Caeran got up and went out back. I collected empty glasses and put them in the kitchen, then returned and saw everyone filing out the back door. I followed.
The yard looked beautiful. It was always nice—lots of shade from the trees and tall flowering bushes along the fences, so it was very private—but now it was pretty enough for a wedding. Paper lanterns hung from all the trees, and a circle had been drawn on the lawn with something white—chalk dust, maybe. Four poles stood spaced around the circle, each holding a lantern of colored glass and wound with ribbons of the same color: yellow, red, blue and green. I could just see the flames of the candles glowing through the glass.
I stood on the back porch staring at it all. The little fountain that Caeran had given Len for her birthday was running, and the sound of the water settled my nerves. The candle on the patio table was lit, flickering inside its glass globe. It was still warm, but a slight breeze cooled the air a little and brought me the smells of candle wax and green grass.
Madóran was standing beneath the yellow lantern at the east side of the circle. He had put on a long, gold robe covered with embroidery around the neck and cuffs, and held a staff that was beautifully carved and decorated with fluttering ribbons. The others gathered around him, and Len beckoned to me to come inside the circle.
I felt a little self-conscious, but I joined them. Fortunately none of them looked at me as if I shouldn’t be there. Lomen even smiled, and Madóran gave me a welcoming nod.
Len came over and whispered in my ear. “I’ve been to two of these. They’re lovely and simple. Nothing to worry about.”
Everyone else quietly chatted while Madóran stood silent, staring west. Finally he raised his arms, lifting the staff high, and everyone shut up.
We all watched, standing still for a long time until Madóran struck the staff three times on the ground. He said something in ælven, then in English he added “Welcome, all, to this Midsummer celebration.”
He turned around, raised his arms toward the pole with the yellow lantern, and said a bunch more in ælven. Then he started walking around the circle, and we followed him. At each of the other poles, he stopped and talked in ælven. Len whispered to me again.
“He’s greeting the guardians of the four directions.”
I nodded. I could handle that, if it didn’t get too much weirder.
Pagans liked to dance naked, I’d heard. I wondered if that was one of the things they’d learned from the ælven. I wouldn’t have minded watching the clan do that, but I’d have been too shy to strip down myself. Also, the yard wasn’t completely private, and there were laws against indecent exposure. Whether these guys knew about them was another matter.
Madóran reached the yellow lantern again and turned around to face us. He said some more in ælven, then added, “This is the longest day of the year. From now until Evennight, the days will grow shorter. May we rejoice in the beauty of summer and the bounty of the harvest to come.”
He finished with a little more in ælven, then beckoned Nathrin and Mirali forward. He said some more stuff—looked to me like a blessing—and I wondered if they were doing a cup bond too. Then Madóran held his hands over Mirali’s abdomen and I got it. She was pregnant. Yes, a little baby bump there that I hadn’t noticed before.
I looked around at the other ælven. All their faces were intense, more than they’d been when we were walking around the circle. They were family, and in that moment I saw that every one of them treasured the unborn baby that Mirali carried.
I guess if it’s hard to get pregnant, you care a lot more when someone you know does it. Also, Mirali was the only female ælven I’d seen (except for the alben, who didn’t count). I wondered if the male-to-female ratio was as skewed throughout the ælven population.
Madóran said something and they all answered in ælven. Nathrin kissed Mirali’s cheek and they moved away, and Madóran beckoned to Len and Caeran.
It was dusk now and the sky was that glowing blue color that’s so magical. The paper lanterns in the trees looked like full moons, filled with soft, golden candlelight. A bird twittered somewhere.
Faranin brought a goblet filled with probably wine, and gave it to Madóran. He held it forward, and Caeran and Len both took hold of it, their hands overlapping.
“I promise to be yours and yours alone for a year and a day,” Caeran said.
Len repeated the words, and they each took a sip from the goblet without letting go, then kissed over it.
That was it. The ælven all cheered, and broke into laughter and talking. Music started up, and I looked around for the source. It was Lomen, playing a wooden flute. The others started clapping, and suddenly they were dancing in a circle.
If you think folk dance you’d be getting close, except I never saw a folk dance so intricate. Madóran took the goblet back from Caeran and Len and they jumped into the dancing, Caeran leading Len around and rescuing her when she got in trouble. The rest of them didn’t seem to mind when she messed up. I felt a little jealous, because she had to have learned that dance before; it was too complicated to wing it.
Mirali left the circle, laughing. When Nathrin followed her she shook her head and shooed him back into the dance, then sat in one of the patio chairs to watch. Madóran joined her. I decided against being a third wheel, and instead leaned on the wall beside the fountain and watched.
Dancing in the glowing light of the lanterns the ælven were even more beautiful, which I wouldn’t have thought possible. Caeran, who was usually so serious, was laughing and smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
I noticed one ælven standing outside the circle, watching the dancers. He was the only one not smiling, the only one with his hair pulled back. He sensed my gaze and turned his head to meet it. The skin across my shoulders tightened and I suddenly couldn’t breathe.
It was Savhoran.
= 7 =
I stood frozen, scared to believe it was really him. For a second I thought I was hallucinating, then he smiled just a little.
Oh, man. If there hadn’t been dancing partying ælven in the way I would have run straight to him. Instead I worked my way around the outside of the circle to where he was standing by the trunk of a tree. He watched me all the way, arms folded across his chest.
I stood staring up at him for a minute, then remembered to talk.
“Hi.”
“Hello,” he said softly.
“I didn’t know you were here.”
He looked down. “I was unsure whether I should come.”
“Well, I’m really glad you did!”
His voice took on a wry note. “It is nice that someone feels that way.”
I glanced at the ælven in the circle. “They’re your family. I’m sure they’re happy to see you.”
He gave a small shake of his head and a sad smile. “Mirali is not, for one.”
I looked across the yard and saw her staring at us. Of all the ælven I’d met, she was the least friendly.
“Why?” I said, half to myself.
“She is concerned for the safety of her child. I understand; I do not blame her.”
I could see the pain in his eyes so I changed the subject. “How’ve you been? I’ve been thinking about you.”
A lot. A lot a lot.
“I am … managing. It is difficult.”
“I heard you left Madóran‘s.”
“Yes. I am here now.”
“In Albuquerque?”
He nodded. My first feeling was indignation, but I put a quick damper on that. I wasn’t mad at him, just at life.
I thought of a million nosy questions, but knew better than to ask them. If he’d wanted to see me before then he would have; he knew where to find me. I had to assume he didn’t.
“It is best for me to be near a large city,” he said. “Less likely that my hunting will be noticed.”
I didn’t like the word “hunting,” but I let it pass. “Do you have a place to stay?”
“Yes. Caeran found me an apartment.”
So Caeran knew he was in town, and hadn’t told me. Maybe Savhoran had asked him not to. That hurt.
The music wound up to a big finale and everyone clapped and cheered. Mirali and Nathrin stood up and said something to Madóran, then all three of them went into the house. When I glanced up at Savhoran I saw him biting his lip.
“Hey, you want something to … drink?” I asked, barely saving myself from a faux pas.
“No, thank you.” He looked so unhappy I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t dare.
