Chapter the Second

 

Elvina was in her room, packing with an urgency like one who knows her home will be destroyed in less than an hour. She had a very large bundle-like bag she was overstuffing with traveling clothes; she had already raided the kitchens for all the long-lasting food she could find, and skin of water lay next to her cloak on her bed.

Someone knocked on her door. "Hello? Elvina? Are you there?"

"Just a moment!" she cried frantically. She whipped the water skin off her bed and stashed it out of sight. With her foot, she nudged the bag under the bed with it. "Okay, you can come in!"

In walked a young man. He was of light build but tall, his short hair, reddish-orange, shined like the sun, and his slight face was set off by almond shaped brown eyes and pointed ears. "Your face is completely flushed, Elvie," he said with a half-laugh. "The wedding is really sucking your calm away, isn’t it?"

"Oh, Brodie, it’s only you." She sighed with relief. Brodie was perhaps her best friend, an eighteen-year-old who, like herself, was half-fairy. Unlike her, however, his other half was star, on his father’s side. He couldn’t fly, sadly- his sister had inherited wings from her mother’s blood, and he, taking more after his father, had been left with only pointed ears, because of which he was constantly being mistaken by strangers for an elf. (Elvina and her siblings had no physical fairy-traits; likely a result of their mother Rayne being fifty percent human.)

"Glad to know I’m appreciated," Brodie said in mock-disappointment. Suddenly he cocked his head, studying her and the room and analyzing her face. The mirth on his changed abruptly, and in a low voice laden with concern he said, "You’re going somewhere; I can tell."

Foiled again. Had the Wolf foreseen this? "Why must you read my thoughts, Brodie?" Elvina sighed. Even her parents sometimes told her she wasn’t being open enough with them, but Brodie always seemed to know what she was thinking.

"Actually, two clues helped," he said. "One, I’ve spent far too much time with you to not know when something is up. And two- well, your cloak is laying on the bed." He smiled wryly.

Elvina automatically turned to look, blushing. "Oh. That’s embarrassing."

Her tone was casual; he matched it. "So, are you running away?"

"No!" she said with sudden vehemence. "I’d hope you know me better than that."

"But your parents don’t know," he said.

"They wouldn’t believe me," she murmured.

"What wouldn’t they believe?" he asked, surprise written all over his face.

Elvina was startled to find herself shaking. So he wouldn’t notice, she sat on the bed, but too late. Brodie sat next to her, and he looked so sincerely worried that she had to look away to keep from bursting out with the story. "Elvie, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me. Please tell me what’s going on," he said, voice dropping to murmur at "please." "I promise to try to believe you, no matter how crazy it sounds."

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "Brodie, I just can’t."

He blinked at her, and a peek into his thoughts tells us he was wondering if this was the first secret she’d ever kept from him. He was hurt; that much Elvina knew.

Then, out of silence: "You do realize I’m coming with you whether you tell me or not."

She jumped up in disbelief. "What?! No! You can’t!"

"I can and will," he said. "That, or I’ll tell someone."

"You wouldn’t dare!" At least, she hoped he wouldn’t dare.

"I’m not going to let you step into danger alone," he said, also standing. "I’ve been taking care of you since we were little, and I’m not going to stop just because you’ve decided to go who-knows-where for a reason you refuse to tell me!"

"Brodie, stop! You don’t understand!" she pleaded.

"You’re right," he said quietly. "I don’t." He sighed, and the silence that followed seemed awkward to Elvina.

"I’m sorry," she whispered.

He smiled disarmingly in return and said, "Where are you going, anyway?"

"The ruins of Wynd’s castle," she began.

"My mother’s castle?" he asked, startled. "Why would you go there?"

But Elvina was groaning. "May a thousand sticks fall upon your head, Brodie! What did you make me say that for?"

His confusion dropped, and a mischievous yet oddly charming grin spread over his face. "Sorry, Elvie. Now, shall I tell your parents? This still looks suspiciously like running away."

"It’s not," she snapped.

"You’re going to break their hearts," he said seriously. "And what of Princess Gwindreth’s wedding?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "I have to do this. They’ll lock me in my room if I tell them… but they need to know I’m okay." She drummed her fingers on the bedpost, undecided. "All right, you can come!" she announced.

He smiled.

"On one condition!" she added hastily.

"Of course you’d say that," he groaned.

"I need you to stay behind for a day and tell my parents why I’m gone. I’ll wait for you where the Wood’s Way starts."

"I don’t even know why you’re going!" he cried. "How exactly am I to tell them?"

"I’ll write them a letter. Will you deliver it?"

"Elvie, I need to know why you’re leaving, too," said Brodie, quiet again. "You know I won’t make you tell me, but if I can’t be sure I’m doing the right thing by helping you, I’ll have to tell your parents. My conscience is already tugging at me…"

Elvina, Elvina. Tell him. Why are you holding back? said the Wolf’s voice in her mind.

I’m afraid he won’t believe me, I AM.

Don’t fear to tell others about Me. I have touched more lives than just yours. You’ll be surprised at the places you’ll find them.

Can I tell Brodie later? The question was layered with a depth of pleading.

A sigh echoed in her head. O small faith, it said. It will hurt him if he does not know soon.

The Voice faded.

"I’ll tell you soon, Brodie," she promised, brushing back her light hair in desperation. "Really. You have to trust me!"

She could see a spark of frustration in his eyes. "Elvina… If I hadn’t known you for so long there is no way I’d be doing this."

"Trust me," she whispered, twisting her ivory hair in her hands.

It was his turn to be undecided. He stood there stiffly, until at long last their eye contact became too painful and he looked down. "Write that letter before I change my mind," he muttered, striding out.

Elvina collapsed on her bed, twice as exhausted as any physical work had made her before. "I will tell him," she swore. "I will. I must. Soon."

**********

Eloa had made a makeshift raft, although to Cala it looked more like a flimsy stretcher that would collapse under her weight. The mermaid had tied the edges of the net to long pieces of driftwood, and it now floated along on the top of the water- "Just waiting to snap into pieces or fall apart," said Cala hesitantly.

Eloa rolled her eyes. "Look, skyling-"

"Cala."

"Khala, you can’t stay on this rock forever."

The star knew the truth of it. Her arms had already slipped several times, but that scrap of seaweed and bark wasn’t a happy alternative. "And why not?" she snapped.

"Because when the tide comes in it will be covered, even if you could survive here with no strength, food, or water."

Cala gingerly let go of the rock and let Eloa ease her onto the "stretcher." As a star, she didn’t know how to swim, and even if she had known, her leg was in the splint Eloa had made.

"How is this any better?" she asked.

Eloa’s green hair was coming loose from the knot at the back of her head. She tucked a lock of it behind her ear. "This is only temporary. Soon I’ll be able to get you the Rock Circles."

"What are those?"

"It’s where we kept the human my mother tended," Eloa explained.

"What happened to him?"

"Her," corrected Eloa. "Eventually, we gave her to the elves. And they took her."

"What was her name?" asked Cala curiously.

"I don’t know," Eloa replied blithely. "She was unconscious all the while."

Cala was thinking that it was a long time to be unconscious, but Eloa continued, "Well, let’s be off. It’s much safer there." She took hold of the front piece of wood with one hand and pulled it along, with Cala perched on top.

From Cala’s perspective, she was being led through endless water, water, water, on all sides. No "Rock Circles" appeared- Whatever those are! she thought. Only once did the star attempt to make conversation. Eloa did not talk for what seemed to be hours, and Cala began to wonder what the mermaid was thinking. "Eloa, what are you thinking?" she asked.

"Khala, if you must know, I’m resisting the urge to dive and tow you under, so if you would please see fit to let me concentrate-"

Cala fell silent again, her fingers gripping the netting so tightly that they felt as though they would never come uncurled.

Finally Eloa came to a halt, though they were still in the middle of nowhere (as far as Cala could tell). "I’m too tired to go further," said the mermaid. Her voice certainly sounded tired. "I’ll wager you’re hungry, at least. I’m going to see if I can find some food."

Cala didn’t know what mermaids ate, and she wasn’t likely to want to eat it herself, but she wasn’t going to say, "No, don’t bring any food for me!" She couldn’t be picky- Eloa had saved her life, and she was hungry. Her real concern was sensible, if nothing else. "What if the raft drifts off while you’re gone?" Or sinks, she added to herself.

Eloa’s face betrayed concern. "I hadn’t thought of that."

They stayed there in silence, rocking with the pull of the waves. Cala felt as though water was seeping into her bloodstream, and though the sun was bright overhead she was very cold. "…Well?"

"I’m thinking," said Eloa, the eyebrows on her green-dappled skin furrowing. "Do you think the Rock Circles are far from here?"

"How should I know?" Cala asked, restraining the bite in her mood. She didn’t want to argue. It already feels a thousand years since this morning, when I hardly had any problems, she thought. Now I’m with a mermaid, wondering how to survive. My parents will be looking for me, but how will they know to look here, of all places?

She shivered, only partly with cold. That voice in her mind… another mystery. Was it searching for her even now?

"You must be miserable," said Eloa suddenly. "Far from home, no food, no warmth, wanting fresh water for your thirst-"

"Please, don’t," pleaded Cala. Her throat felt even more parched and cracked because of the words.

"Sorry," said Eloa. She laughed bitterly. "Some healer I am. Can’t even get you somewhere safe, much less-"

"Wait," interrupted Cala. "Have we been moving?"

"Not much," said Eloa, thrown off-balance by the subject change. "Why?"

"Because if we aren’t moving toward it, that thing must be moving toward us," Cala said in a small voice, pointing behind the mermaid’s head.

Eloa turned to look, one hand still on the raft. There was a sparkle of purple parting the water as it came their way, fleet as the wind.

"What is it?" asked Cala.

"I think," responded Eloa with a hardness in her voice, "it is Maela."

"Who?"

Before the purple dot, which was looking more and more like a person, reached them, Eloa whispered, "Some merfolk say she has the second sight, but I doubt it. She is wise, though, no doubt. I lived with her a short time after Mirree died, but all she ever did was weave. Weave and tell stories about ancient bonds between Elves and Merfolk to which no one cared to hear."

"I like ancient stories," said Cala absently. "Ancient and new both, actually. My parents tell fantastic ones."

That was when the purple mermaid- Maela- reached them. She was violet from hair to fin, with a wide yellow swath of cloth about her shoulders and shell-studded bag. "I heard your last bit about no one listening to me tales, Eloa," she said wryly, in a voice that seemed almost masculine. (She did not contradict the statement, however.)

Eloa looked down in shame, mumbling something incoherent and blushing a dark green.

"But," Maela continued, "I heard rumors that Seema’s daughter had seen a bird falling onto the Drying Rocks and was setting out like a madmaid to rescue it." She looked pointedly at Cala. "I see they were, at least this time, correct."

"Cala," cut in Cala. "Not exactly a bird, but a star."

"Cala the star," repeated Maela with a smile, pronouncing the name perfectly, to Eloa’s greater chagrin. Cala, however, was taking a tentative liking to the other mermaid.

"In any case," Maela continued, lifting the strap of her bag over her shoulders, "I knew you, Eloa, were likely to be in such a rush that you would forget food or drink for your guest, and possibly would need help." Her dark violet lips parted in a smile as she opened the bag. "I managed to find some drink she’ll find herself able to swallow, I think, as well as some food that she’ll have to try, since she can’t very well make a fire and cook anything."

"Thank you," said Eloa grudgingly. Her silvery, webbed hand strayed to the bag and drew out a flask of red liquid, which she gave to Cala.

Cala’s gratitude was boundless. She took a deep gulp- the liquid was sweet, clean, and slipped easily down her dry throat. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said ardently, wiping a red stain from her lips.

Maela only laughed. "Cala, you are very amusing. Where are you headed?"

"The Rock Circles," supplied Eloa. Her voice was a little softer after seeing Cala’s relief, and she was not feeling as weary.

"That’s still a distance to go," said Maela, although she didn’t seem surprised.

"I know," said Eloa ruefully. She swallowed her pride for the sake of her patient. "I believe I could use your help- please?"

Maela, looking pleased indeed, nodded, took the yellow shawl from her shoulders, and gave it to Cala. "This is wet, but it should be of some warmth to you," she said.

"Thank you again," said Cala, wringing it out before wrapping herself in it.

Maela took the front of the raft, and Eloa pushed the back.

For two minutes a sense of calm settled over Cala, until Maela began the story of seamaid who saved the life of a shark, and Cala began to imagine dangers lurking in the water. The story ended happily, with the mermaid being rescued by the shark later, but Cala wasn’t put too much at ease because she had heard different versions of the story before: one with a lion and a mouse, another with a lion and a human, and in both cases she knew real lions would eat someone rather than let them save their lives, and didn’t doubt the same of sharks.

She didn’t have to time to ask whether the waters were shark-infested or not, because Eloa picked up the thread of conversation where Maela left it.

"Funny," said she, in a warmer tone to Maela than she’d used all the trip. "You didn’t mention Elves in your story."

"Believe me, I don’t know quite so much about the Elven folk as I should wish- though apparently more than enough to satisfy the curiosity of most of my listeners."

"I know little of elves," put in Cala, "but I can tell you all about stars and reclaim of Llorleya, which I believe…" She hesitated. "You know, I believe both of you might have had a hand in it."

"How so?" asked Eloa. "I couldn’t have been more than a child among merfolk when the ships passed." (That was how merfolk dated the war, by the passing of the elf-ships.)

A mysterious smile crept over Maela’s face, leaving understanding in its wake. "Ah… If you are referring to what I think you are referring to…"

Cala nodded. "Well, probably."

"I knew that human was special," smiled Maela. "Though Seema was far more certain than I. She was at the point of threatening anyone who dared to touch the human."

"What?" Eloa said. "My mirree?"

"She wasn’t quite human," said Cala, responding to Maela.

"Please tell me what you are talking of," Eloa said, holding the raft firmly in place. "I won’t budge until you do."

Cala laughed. "It’s my mother. My mother was- is- the human you and your (what is the word you use?) mirree took care of at the Rock Circles, unless I mistake my guess."

Eloa’s face did not change. Her voice, however, betrayed considerably more doubt. "Your… mirree? How? Are you not a star?"

"Yes, and she is too, though she didn’t know it then," said Cala, almost gleefully. "How remarkable! That we should meet, as if by chance…"

"Not by chance, though perhaps you were not the one who planned it," said Maela in her deep voice. "Your mirree, I think, would much prefer that you, Cala, were spared this meeting, however remarkable, and returned home to her."

The star’s face fell. "Yes. She would. And so would I." She looked up at the sky. "I’m eighteen- old enough to leave home, if I wish it- but I don’t wish it. At least, not like this. And if I should ever be called upon to rule-"

"Wait," interrupted Eloa. "Rule?" Maela looked similarly puzzled.

Cala made a face. "It’s complicated. Stars are immortal, but you never knew when calamity might kill someone. Distasteful topic, but unfortunately necessary."

Eloa was till obviously perplexed by the "ruling" business. Merfolk have no system of government, and besides that no one had mentioned to Eloa or Maela that Cala (or her mother) were royalty.

"So as soon as you can fly again, will you go home?" asked Eloa, with a trace of disappointment in her voice that Cala barely caught.

She shifted her unbroken leg and opened her mouth to answer.

"Cala- you cannot fly?" This was Maela, and there was no mistaking the worry lacing her words.

"Noooo," said Cala slowly. "But I think it’s only temporary." Then she remembered the voice in her head, and wasn’t so sure.

"That is something," Maela said, with a cryptic furrowing of her eyebrows.

Uncomfortably, Cala tightened the yellow cloth around her shoulders. "Do you mean-"

"I don’t mean anything yet," Maela cut in, brushing the air with her hands as though shooing a fly. "But I shall be think about this, and Eloa should too. I think you had better tell us more about stars and Llorleya after all… At any rate until we reach the Rock Circles."

Cala shrugged nervously and began.

**********