Emily's Saga

by Travis Bughi

  That, too, was why she was here with the elves. Why her? Nathok had called her by name and had made it clear they were only there for her. Of all the strange things to happen to her, this had to be the oddest one of all. For that very reason, she had jumped at the opportunity to find out.

  Emily sighed and looked around. Dawn’s first light was stabbing through every opening it could, though there were few. However, it was enough to show Emily her surroundings. To her surprise, the elves were already awake and rolling up their mats to place them back into the chest. They didn’t look up when Emily lurched awake, which told her that they were either discreet or unconcerned. Either way, it did not faze her. She had more important matters to attend to, like why she was here.

  “Nathok,” she said, grabbing the elf’s attention. “Good morning. Will we be moving soon?”

  “Good morning, Stout,” the elf gave her a slight nod before looking away again. “And, no, you will not be moving soon.”

  The elves, their packing finished, gathered around to open the trap door. They rolled the ladder out, letting it fall completely to the ground before four of them made the descent down to the forest floor. Now that it was light outside, Emily could clearly see the ground below.

  The distance was both comforting and unnerving.

  “Where are they going?” Emily asked.

  “They are going to do a quick scout to ensure that the centaurs did not pick up on our trail,” Nathok explained. “When they all return safely, we will be moving.”

  “Oh,” Emily replied and then added after a pause, “Nathok?”

  “Yes, Stout.”

  “What can you tell me about why you came for us, or me specifically?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” Nathok replied without hesitation.

  He turned to her and offered a shrug of his eyebrows before returning to the elves that had not gone to scout the forest. Emily didn’t like that answer, but she didn’t have the energy for a battle just yet. She considered waking up Chara, just to talk to her, but fortunately she didn’t have to. The morning’s activity had been enough to arouse the others from their otherwise undisturbed sleep. As Chara yawned and stretched, Emily sat next to her and welcomed her grandmother to another beautiful day.

  “And a good morning to you, too, Daughter,” Chara replied. “You seem a bit more excited today than normal.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?” Emily asked.

  “I suppose if I entered a land I’d never been to, only to be called out and saved by creatures I’d never seen,” Chara paused, considering the hypothetical, “then I guess I too would be a bit jittery. Though in truth, I’m much too old for this sort of excitement.”

  Emily smiled and rolled up her bedding alongside her grandmother. As they did so, Emily made a quick check to the corners of the room and was pleased to find Belen and Gaia both sitting where they had been left. She was glad another attempted escape had not been risked. Hopefully, Emily thought, we won’t be seeing any more of that so long as we are with the elves.

  All the amazons had finished packing by the time the four elves returned. They signaled up that the way was clear, and all but two elves climbed down to the forest floor. They were twenty humans and ten elves strong again when the rope ladder was hauled back up into the sky.

  “Keep your tracks concealed,” Nathok told the amazons. “Lok’har has not given up. Not by a long shot.”

  They traveled northwest at a casual pace. Emily was happy Nathok had decided to walk and guessed that it was because their destination was not far. She checked this theory with Nathok, and he confirmed her suspicions. They would reach their destination by mid-day.

  In the meantime, Emily was given plenty of time to think. So, she thought about the one thing she’d been trying to avoid: her dream. If she could decipher its message, then perhaps Quartus would let her sleep. In her mind, she broke the dream down. First, she inspected the characters. There were eighteen behemoths, which Emily could reasonably assume stood for the eighteen amazons she was traveling with. There was a thunderbird, which stood for someone with immeasurable power who could not be reached. Instantly, she thought of Count Drowin, the vampire who had hired the traitor. He was immortal, like the angels, and had the power to kill at his disposal. He seemed the reasonable choice.

  However, perhaps the thunderbird was Ichiro Katsu. If he really was a shogun of Juatwa, then he probably had excessive power as well. Also, being so far across the seas, he too would be out of reach. Yet, Emily admitted to herself, it was not the thunderbird that interested her. It was the banshee. The banshee was the traitor, she thought, and it took her by surprise every single time.

  Then again, maybe she was wrong about that, too. Maybe the banshee wasn’t the traitor? The banshee could stand for anything really, like the samurai, or vampire, or ogres. Perhaps the banshee stood for an enemy yet unknown. Maybe, just maybe, Quartus plagued her dreams because this was just one small part of a much larger picture.

  Emily pondered that for a few beats and then scoffed. That was ridiculous, really. The only thing that could be said for certain was that something was amiss, which was an odd and ironic thing to think.

  Out of nowhere, the treant entered Emily’s mind, and she remembered the centaurs pouring over the creature. She couldn’t say what made her think of it, but her heart sank knowing that it had perished to a vengeance meant for the amazons. The treant had willingly sacrificed itself so that Emily and Adelpha could escape, and Emily made a silent vow to make sure that its sacrifice would not be in vain. She would do something for the treant, perhaps plant a tree in a faraway land. Surely, it would have liked that.

  “Emily,” Chara said.

  “Huh? What?” Emily snapped out of her trance.

  “Look above you,” Chara whispered.

  Emily looked up and saw, soaring gracefully and high above them, a birdlike creature covered in purple feathers. It had a beak and four legs tipped with talons. She could just make out a rider on its back, an elf by the look of it.

  “A hippogriff?” Emily asked with a hint of awe in her voice.

  “Yes, Daughter,” Chara smiled.

  So the elves truly had tamed the elusive flying creatures of Angor. Emily watched the hippogriff’s rider turn his mount and circle back over them. He stopped the beast mid-air and let it hover casually. There were no reins to hold, and so the elf’s arms were free to rest on his winged mount. He reached a hand up and patted his bow while keeping a clear eye on the humans.

  The amazons were being watched and, apparently, not trusted.

  The hippogriff’s rider dug in his heels, and his mount screeched as it soared away in the direction they were traveling. Compared to a thunderbird’s, the hippogriff’s screech was much sharper. A thunderbird’s screech was a booming monstrosity, whereas the hippogriff’s was more like a call to others.

  Emily assumed the rider was a scout for wherever they were going, and she was proven to be correct. Soon after seeing the hippogriff fly out of sight, they came into view of their destination, an elf village.

  At first, Emily did not see the village. She only saw many elves making their way from one tree to the next in a wide area. That was until she realized the trees were the village. The elves had built their homes right into the landscape around them, just like the gnomes of the Great Plains. There were no walls, gates, or even fences to enclose the village. Like Emily’s first home, this community was completely open to the world. The only defenses were the few elves riding on hippogriffs and the occasional elf standing watch on the village’s perimeter. There wasn’t much to guard, though. The village was small, only housing maybe one hundred elves in total, Emily guessed. Of course, there could be more. When the entire forest was home, any number of ‘houses’ could be scattered all around.

  Emily had not been sure what to expect, but she felt a bit impressed with the simplicity of the elfish dwellings. There was no comparing this sanctuary to the harsh city of Lucifan. Where the elves l
ived in harmony with their surroundings, Lucifan cut and shaped the landscape to do its bidding. In an instant, Emily saw the sharp contrast between equality and dominance.

  And, just as quickly, she saw one of the trees move. It turned around, like no tree should be able to do, and Emily looked at the treant she had helped save. One of its eyes was closed tightly, but that didn’t stop it from smiling when it saw the group of amazons. Among the group, though, Emily was the only one to return that smile.

  “You asked me why we came for you,” Nathok said to Emily. “This is part of the answer.”

  “What’s the other part?” Emily replied.

  “Hm,” Nathok paused. “I’ll let the treant explain.”

  Chapter 11

  Emily was overcome with joy when she saw the treant alive. Nathok’s leading statement gave that joy a pitch of uncertainty, but she was too happy to care. The treant, too, had been thrilled to see Emily again and had no qualms about telling her so. In the short time they’d known each other, a quick friendship seemed to have blossomed, a friendship that had a blatant effect on the other amazons. As Emily walked off with the treant to hear its tale, none of the amazons joined her, and she could hear some of them whispering behind her back.

  “Not right, that one.”

  “I knew Chara was acting like a pixie when she picked her up.”

  Those insults were silenced with a hard glance from Adelpha, and no one said anything else so long as Emily was in earshot. It didn’t much bother her though. Her friend was alive, and she didn’t care if its skin was bark and its hair was made of branches and leaves.

  “The elves . . . saved me,” the treant explained.

  After Emily and Adelpha had charged off through the forest, the centaurs had attacked the treant, shooting out one of its eyes before Nathok’s elves had intervened. There had only been ten of them, but with the treant on their side, Lok’har had decided to take his surviving centaurs and flee.

  “I’m sorry,” Emily apologized. “If I had known, I would have turned back around to help.”

  “You had done . . . all that you could,” the treant brushed off her regret.

  After being saved, the treant told the elves everything and begged Nathok to help Emily. The elf had refused and instead helped the treant back to the camp where they were all at now.

  “I was . . . fortunate,” the treant breathed, “that an elf . . . elder was here.”

  The elder, the treant explained, was as close to a leader as the elves had. Though he was very old and blind, he listened well and, after hearing the treant’s story, decreed that an effort would be made to help Emily. So, despite strong words of disagreement, Nathok led his team out to track the amazons down and bring them back—a task they had performed admirably.

  “That was very kind of the elder,” Emily said, “and Nathok.”

  The treant nodded his agreement, showering them both with leaves and twigs.

  “So,” Emily started after brushing herself off, “Nathok said you were only one part of the reason I’m here.”

  “Did he say . . . the other part?” it asked.

  Emily shook her head and remained silent.

  “You must speak . . . with the elder,” the treant said.

  “And the elder will tell me?” Emily guessed.

  The treant nodded again, though slowly this time so as not to shake off as many leaves. Emily was thankful for that, but upset at the response she was given. She was tired of being led from person to person, only to be pushed off to yet another. She felt like she was being taken advantage of and no longer had the patience to wait quietly for the answer to come around. Somebody was going to tell her something.

  “Can you at least tell me what this is all about?” Emily asked, not bothering to hide her displeasure.

  “Yes,” the treant replied, completely unmoved by Emily’s anger. “I can tell you.”

  The explanation started with the elder. His name was Renspar Dirthzea, and he was very old. Elves, although not immortal, lived far longer than humans, about four times longer to be exact. Dirthzea was not far from the end of his lifetime but had made the best of those many, many years.

  Dirthzea had been one of the few elves to leave the forest, of the fewer still to cross the ocean, and of the rarest breed to have returned from such a trip. He had gone as far as the desert, though the treant admitted it had no idea what or where that was. It was a place of few trees, which was enough to cause him a shudder. While Dirthzea had been there, he had lost his sight but gained the ability to read the minds of others.

  “Wait,” Emily held up her hand. “One cannot just learn to read minds. Are you sure that’s what happened?”

  The treant nodded.

  “And how does one learn to do that?” Emily asked.

  “I do not . . . know,” the treant replied, “but he wants . . . to read yours.”

  “That’s crazy. How can he—” she was cut off by the treant raising its arm.

  It pointed back behind Emily, and she turned to see Nathok with two other elves watching them. They stood in plain sight, and Emily wondered how they were able to avoid detection. She wished she knew their secrets.

  “It is . . . time,” it said.

  Emily turned to the treant, then back to Nathok, then back to the treant. She contemplated saying ‘no’ and demanding some answers, but then she reconsidered and thought that surely Dirthzea would have some. So instead, she gave the treant’s shin a pat of friendship, then walked over to Nathok and his elves.

  “What did it tell you?” Nathok asked.

  “You weren’t listening?” Emily countered.

  “We were,” Nathok admitted, “but I wanted to test your honesty.”

  “If my integrity is still in question, Nathok,” Emily said plainly, “then you need a better test.”

  Nathok’s rigid mouth made the slightest twitch upwards at the corner.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “Follow me.”

  He led Emily through the village. She noticed that the other amazons had been ushered over to a makeshift shelter, and they gathered around to stare at Emily being escorted by the three elves. Adelpha stood up as if to intervene, unsure of Emily’s status, but Emily waved her down and smiled to let her know everything was fine. Slowly, Adelpha relaxed her guard.

  Emily also noticed that the elves in the village made no effort at all to hide their discomfort at the amazon presence. Most took wide routes to avoid the group of women as if they held a sort of plague. They did not voice their displeasure, but it was plainly expressed by their faces. Emily sighed at the hatred they were being shown and wondered how grave a scar would need this much time to heal.

  Emily was led to a hut at the center of the village. It was simple in structure, and Emily did not even notice it until they stopped in front of its entrance over which a simple cloth hung. She thought that, for someone of such grandeur, Dirthzea lived quite humbly.

  Emily decided she liked that.

  “You may enter,” Nathok said to Emily, “but know that we can hear every word and sound.”

  “Do not fear, Nathok,” Emily patted his shoulder. “I will not let him hurt me.”

  Nathok opened his mouth to respond but could not come up with anything to say before Emily pulled back the cloth and entered the dark room. As the cloth relaxed behind her, the only light to enter were the rays that managed to penetrate the sheet, and Emily had to wait for her eyes to adjust.

  As she stood there, trying to look around, she felt the old feeling of her thoughts being pulled and tugged. At first she thought it was Quartus and said in her mind, Not now please, but then she realized this feeling was slightly different. This was not Quartus. It was someone else.

  “This is not the first time someone has read your thoughts, Emily Stout,” a voice, weak and frail, said from a corner of the room.

  “No,” she replied honestly, “an angel from Lucifan—”

  “Yes, Quartus,” the voice said.

>   Emily’s eyes had adjusted enough now to see that there was only one elf in the hut. He was thin, even thinner than the other elves, and hunched over while he sat crossed-legged on the floor. He wore a long, brown cloak, and had grey, bushy eyebrows and a shaved head. His skin at the top formed many freckles and age spots. His eyes were shut, and the nose that grew out between them was long and hooked.

  “Please, sit,” he said.

  “I thought you could not see,” Emily said.

  “I can’t,” he smiled, “but I can hear, and you have not moved since walking in.”

  Emily conceded her ignorance and sat down on the dirt floor. The elf waited patiently as she got comfortable.

  “Are you Renspar Dirthzea?” she asked.

  “Please, call me Dirthzea.”

  “Dirthzea,” Emily repeated, “I have a question for you.”

  “Yes?”

  “How is it that you can read my mind?”

  Emily had decided against leading up to the question. Her patience had run thin, and she could sense the elves were not people who could be tempted, bartered with, or bribed. If they wished to share their knowledge, they would. Otherwise, no amount of pleading or kindness would change their mind. It made Emily think of long ago when the amazons had stolen an elven bow. Now Emily knew why the amazons could not trade or ask for one of the bows. The elves were not people who could be swayed through enticement.

  “I’m glad you asked,” Dirthzea said now, “though it is quite the tale. Are you certain you have the patience for it?”

  “There is only one way to find out,” Emily replied.

  Dirthzea smiled and said, “That is true, Stout.”

  The elf cleared his throat and shifted his weight. He put his hands together and leaned his head towards Emily.