Cheryl had seen the hurt in his eyes when he’d been dispatched up to the red stag patch of woods, and had tried to comfort him, but he’d wanted no pity, and had brusquely left her behind when he’d stormed out of the guard lodge and left everyone behind. He felt badly for having been rude to Cheryl, and he knew he needed to apologize. Their relationship was on undecided ground as it was, as Kestrel competed with every other full-blooded elf in the western end of the forest to capture the affection of the lovely girl. Kestrel couldn’t compose bad poetry that compared her red hair to the flowers that blossomed in the spring, nor could he offer her combs of honey that the bees magically led some elves to find and confiscate, nor could he offer her riches and prestige, especially not prestige with his shameful heritage. He knew that all of those elements were part of the wooing campaigns that were vigorously exercised by his competitors for her affection.
But he could make her laugh, and he could listen to her talk about her dreams, and he could empathize with her, in a genuine way, as they shared the same dream of a peaceful glade in a distant forest, where they would be isolated from the worries and petty jealousies of the world. And he was the fascinating, unusual member of the elven race who could successfully appeal to the human race’s deities, which made him a fascinating subject that Cheryl liked to scrutinize, as she bombarded him with questions about the how and the why and the feel of those inscrutable communications.
There was no commitment between them, but it felt like more than friendship.
Suddenly, Kestrel’s nostril flared with the faint scent of wood smoke, and his mind almost seized up in panic at the possibility that there might be a fire in his sector of the forest. Kestrel hastily rose from the fork in the tree where he comfortably sat, and began to climb higher, up to where the thin, high branches of the chestnut swayed and bent dangerously, even under his light elven build – light for a human, though Kestrel was comparatively heavy for an elf. Once he was in the topmost branches, Kestrel was above nearly every other tree in that portion of the forest, for the chestnut grew atop a small upward buckle in the ground, giving it an advantage over the others. That was why he had settled into the chestnut for his assignment, that and the fact that it gave him a perfect view of the wide forest track that qualified as the only road in that sector of the forest
Far to his right Kestrel saw smoke rising from the forest, a considerable, roiling mass of dark smoke that filled his heart with pain and fear as it rose in a pillar. Although he knew the elven commanders hadn’t known what they were doing when they had dispatched him to this distant patch of forest, far removed from the battle, it turned out that they had made a brilliant assignment, for only Kestrel had any hope of fighting the forest fire before it became a threat to the safety of the elven woods.
Kestrel shut his eyes and grabbed tightly to the tree branches around him as he considered what he needed to do. There was heavy smoke rising from a location deep in the forest. Kestrel couldn’t imagine how a fire could have started there – the sky was clear, without any possibility that lightning had struck, and he couldn’t imagine any other likely cause of a fire. But the smoke from the fire was clearly evident, and posed a clear threat to the inhabitants of the forest.
The young elf kept his eyes closed and his mind clear as he began to prepare himself to call upon the powers of the human gods, asking them to come to his aid to help alleviate the crisis in the forest. Kestrel understood the irony of the situation, that as much as he wished to deny his human heritage, it was that particular heritage that made him so unique among the elves, and gave him his unrealized value to the society of the Eastern Forest elves. If not for Kestrel, the elves would only be able to call upon the lesser powers of their own deities. Beyond Cheryl, Kestrel had never told others about the ability he had. Now though, in the case of the growing fire, Kestrel was sure that he needed to ask for the human gods’ assistance, because he knew that the elven gods did not have sufficient power to suffocate the conflagration.
Kestrel began to create the necessary images in his mind, the vision of stark white surroundings that allowed him to focus on the great deities. He needed to decide quickly which of the human powers he would call upon. His closest, strongest relationship was with the Air goddess, Kai, who reached out to him and touched his dreams on occasion. But Kai’s abilities didn’t seem suited to the task of dousing the fire; that would seem better suited to Shaish, the water goddess. Plus, Kai was paired with her mate, Growelk, the fire god, and Kestrel wondered if she would help him fight her own husband’s element. But the water goddess, Shaish, was distant from Kestrel; he seldom prayed to her, and never knew his prayers to be answered, so to call upon her seemed pointless.
His mother hadn’t taught him to reach the human gods; he had been instructed in the worship of and prayer to the elven entities. But he had been curious about the human gods, the heritage that he wished he didn’t have, and that he was too often reminded of. He had secretly taken the instructions for elven worship and applied them to the human deities, reaching out into the emptiness. He had found no success for the longest time, and would have given up, except that there was no harm suffered from spending his time trying again at random moments when he had nothing else to do, and he felt an intangible pull that urged him to keep trying, to try to find the positive elements of his humanity. Finally, in a lonely dusky hour at sunset, when he had sat alone in his tree and closed his eyes and let his consciousness rise from his physical world, he had felt a brush of divinity upon his mind.
Kestrel had obligingly opened his mind and heart, and promised his humble devotion to the otherworldly entity that was examining him. It had been Kai. She had found his elven mentality exotic, an interesting change from the pure humans that she normally interacted with – toying with them, granting their prayers, punishing their misdeeds. She had accepted his worship and granted him status as one of her own, knowing that he had the potential to play a unique role if circumstances required.
And so, as he confronted the dangerous smoke in the woods, Kestrel had to make a choice. In the end, he decided to rely on Kai, and hope that the air goddess would intervene on his behalf either directly somehow, or as an intercessory with Shaish, persuading the other goddess to use her powers to quench the flames.
“Powerful goddess, answer to my prayers, provider of movement and breath, I beseech your help. You have helped me in the past, and I have felt the warmth of your attention. The flames in the forest threaten my home and my friends; please extinguish this fire. Save the forest where I live – protect us, please,” Kestrel prayed to the air goddess, then repeated his prayer twice, sure that more was better than less when trying to ask a favor of an immortal being.
“You have been faithful to me, and so I will intercede on your behalf. But know that someday, I will ask for a demonstration of your devotion to me in return. There are troubling signs of evil abroad in the world, and I will call upon you to carry out duties for me,” Kestrel was startled to hear the words, implanted in his consciousness in a dreamlike manner. He’d never heard a response from the goddess so directly during his waking hours, and his spirit twisted with a twinge of uneasiness over the prospect of owing a favor to a goddess.
“I will do your work, great goddess,” he whispered in acknowledgement, then began to descend from the height of the tree, dropping down from branch to branch, then landing on the soft forest floor. He began to run through the woods in the direction of the fire, eager to see how Kai would prevent a greater conflagration.
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Tangled Engagements (The Memory Stones Series Book 4) Page 30
