“It’s not that I don’t like people. It’s just that when I’m in the company of other – even my nearest and dearest

– there always comes a moment when I’d rather be reading a book.”

- Maureen Corrigan

“Am I doing this right?”

“No, not at all.”

“Blast…how can I not draw a straight line?”

“It takes practice…lots and lots of practice.”

“You’re not helping.” There was a pause. “Ugh!”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll call it abstract.” Rafael chuckled. “Go on, your customer is waiting.”

Eustace picked up the mug and, with painstaking slowness, brought it over to me. I was itching to take it from him to ease his discomfort but he was concentrating so hard I was worried any attempt to help would only startle him. I could only hope that thunder wouldn’t roll and lightning wouldn’t flash as a downpour of epic proportions came down. Eustace needed all the concentration he could muster.

“One…coffee…” He said as he laid the cup on the table.

“Well done.”

Eustace looked visibly relieved to have made it to the table.

“What does the latte art look like?”

I studied the blurred image. “Um…a leaf?” Rafael snorted and Eustace moaned. “A tree?”

“It was supposed to be an open book.” Rafael declared.

“Oh,” I blushed, “I thought those,” I pointed to the lines, “were wavy branches.”

“Pages.”

“Huh…well…maybe it’s Rorschach art?”

“Gesundheit.”

“Ha ha,” I muttered at Bastian, “Rorschach inkblots were used in therapy. The image that is seen is based on what the viewer wants to see or what their mind interprets it as.” I pointed to the latte. “It’s art!”

Eustace brightened and looked at Rafael who shrugged. “All I see is a mess.”

“Maybe because your mind is a mess.”

“Oh now, don’t start fighting.” I sighed.

“What does it taste like?”

“Oh no,” I stood up and carried the cup over to Rafael, “unfortunately I don’t drink coffee and I would have a poor opinion of whatever you made no matter how good it was.”

Rafael sipped it and Eustace hovered nearby, anxiously waiting. He had been miraculously revived by his swim in the oceans of his world and regained much of his old bounce and yet none of his flightiness. Eustace had returned with a determination to learn a trade at the café. Rafael, surprisingly, offered to teach him how to make coffee.

“Coffee is the main thing we’re known for at ‘House of Figs’,” Rafael had justified his unexpected offer, “I’m the busiest out of all of us.”

“Oh you poor, overworked, underpaid vampire.” Bastian had snorted upon hearing his reason.

Rafael licked his lips. “The grind setting on the beans was too fine and the milk is on the edge of being burnt,” Eustace’s shoulders were sagging, “but compared to almost all other coffees I’ve ever had anyone make me in this world, it’s not half bad.”

Eustace looked at me. “Is that a compliment?”

“A round about one.” I giggled. “Well done you.”

He smiled, his blue eyes lightening as his worry lines softened. “Thanks.”

‘House of Figs’ had closed for the day and we were enjoying some downtime as we cleaned up and prepared for the next day. I told everyone about my idea to offer a complimentary muffin or cupcake to anyone who showed a medical certificate and bought a coffee. I asked Rob if I’d overstepped my bounds.

“I believe it to be in the spirit of Jo’s purpose for ‘House of Figs’.” He answered.

“Really?”

“You’re gonna have your work cut out for you, Faelan.” Bastian remarked. “Many more cupcakes to be baked.”

“I shall rise to the challenge.” He said airily, a bowl in his arms, whipping up a batch of egg whites.

“It seems so strange,” I admitted, putting the chairs back into place and wiping off the errant crumbs of cheesecake base, “that an elf would enjoy baking and making muffins and cakes…”

“I would be repulsed to handle dead things as often as Bastian,” Faelan remarked, glancing at the werewolf who grinned at the attention, “and I would rather face off against a hoard of flesh eating orcs than try to usurp Rafael’s position.”

“Wise.” Rafael tipped a shot down his throat.

“So that’s it? That’s why you handle the ‘sweet’ side of things?”

“It seemed to lend itself naturally to my skill of perfectionism.” Faelan carefully measured sugar and sprinkled a tablespoon of it into his egg white mix before continuing to stir.

“That’s not a skill, that’s a weakness.” Bastian snorted.

“And yet, if you applied your ‘slap-dash’ methodology to my role, you would quickly learn that some things require a finer touch.” Faelan retorted lightly.

“No one wants a timid massage,” Bastian linked his fingers together and stretched out his arms, the stretch of his shirt straining against his muscles, “they want strength.”

“You would do well in a study of humility.”

“Look who’s talking!”

It was nice to have the whole crew together. I found it to be a pleasant place to be. Despite the strangeness of it all and the possible violent connection to my aunt and her unexplained coma, I couldn’t help but warm to it. I had been at my workplace for two years yet in a month, I felt happier and more content at ‘House of Figs’ than I’d ever been in my clinical cubicle.

I even liked how I wasn’t insulated inside a ‘modern’ building. In my flat and at my work, I could never tell if it was raining. At ‘House of Figs’ I could see the sleeting rain, the wild clouds and hear the fantastic sound of countless drops hammering the roof.

Bastian served us an early dinner which was perfect as, due to the hours ‘House of Fig’ was open, we often missed out on lunch. He always made an excellent breakfast so, unless I skipped it, I wasn’t ravenous until after closing. Faelan promised a perfect pavlova for dessert and we sat around the one table that was large enough for everyone. Even Jet was there. He’d caught up with Eustace earlier in the day then sequestered himself into a corner with his headphones and portable game console. However, food was a wonderful motivator and he joined us at the table. I didn’t bat an eyelid as he made sure his food was neatly separated into five piles on his plate. I guess I was getting used to his idiosyncrasies.

“I did a search on the Observatory,” Jet remarked as we ate, Faelan pouring a round of his homemade lemonade for everyone except Rafael, “didn’t come up with much.”

“Oh.” I sighed. “I wonder why that is? It’s a Glenwilde landmark. Even without ‘House of Figs’ open as a café, the Observatory is on the list of ‘must see’ when visiting Glenwilde.”

“Don’t know.”

“What do you want to know about the Observatory?” Eustace asked.

“Um,” I swallowed, “just…the history behind it. It’s a unique building.”

“You mean the fact that it seems to be a portal for five fantasy worlds, unique?” Rafael asked.

I sighed and put my forkful down. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say or ask?”

“You might have thought I was prying.” I eyed Rafael. “You’re not the easiest of persons to talk to.”

Rafael wasn’t insulted. In fact, he looked bored, as if I’d stated an incredibly obvious fact.

“Jet suggested it would be wise if we understood more about the Observatory.” I said, skirting around my concerns about the connection between the guys and Aunt Jo’s coma.

“Query, have you discovered anything useful?” Rob asked, holding a cup of lemonade. I smiled at his attempt to be part of the group even though he didn’t need to eat or drink.

“Not really.” Jet shrugged. “All I get is the Glenwilde council blurb about it.”

“That is because a fire destroyed many records twenty years ago.” Rob announced.

“How do you know that?” I asked in astonishment.

“Jo felt the same way as you about the Observatory, that there was more to it than existed in official records.”

I looked at Jet. “I should have thought to ask Rob really.” Jet shrugged. “He’s probably better at searching through the internet than I am.”

I sensed a strange sort of defeat in Jet’s voice, as if the one skill he could offer had been taken away.

“I may be more efficient,” Rob remarked, “but I lack creativity. Jet has shown that he is capable of thinking ‘outside the box’.”

I recalled the way he’d immediately seen the words ‘Five Suns’ in the sketched illustration.

“It’s true,” I insisted with insight I couldn’t share but knew without a doubt, “you’re one of those lateral thinkers.”

“Yeah, what you lack in social skills you make up for with ‘beyond the page’ thinking.” Bastian declared.

“Thanks…I think.” Jet sighed. “I still don’t know how to find anything else out about the Observatory. I mean…we don’t even know who built it…but we could find out who used to own it…” He paused, his brow creasing. “Unless it was an anonymous sale…”

“Those records would be in Jo’s emails.” Rob nodded.

“Can you access them?” I asked.

“That would be an invasion of privacy.” Rob paused. “However, her filing cabinet would have a copy of physical documentation…and you are acting on her behalf.”

“Then act on my behalf and go look.” I asked. “You would know far better what you’re looking for than I would.”

While Rob was searching, Faelan prepared dessert and the rest of us gathered the dirty plates.

“How’s BD today?” I asked Eustace.

“Rafael says blood flow is normal and Faelan detects no distress.” The water dragon picked up the tray that groaned with the weight of all the dishes. “That is as good as a positive diagnosis.”

“It’s nice to have you downstairs, being a part of ‘House of Figs’ again.”

Eustace smiled and I was struck at how much more settled he was. His hair was spiky and his skin had a glow that had been missing before his return to the dragon world.

“Leaving the egg, for short periods of time, is not as terrifying as it once was. I guess…I just needed to be made to see that I could trust others to look after it…while I looked after myself.” He gazed at me. “Thank you, Bethany.”

I tried not to blush. “You’re welcome.”

“I have the real estate records.” Rob came downstairs, saving me from blushing even harder.

“Who was the previous owner?”

“Janice and Owen Eichler.”

I looked at Jet. “Can you do anything with those names?”

“I could do a search, maybe find out if they built the Observatory or if it was there before they bought ‘House of Figs’.” Jet nodded.

“Unless they owned the property for at least forty years, I’d say you’ll be looking at who owned it before them.” Rafael remarked as he opened a new box of coffee beans and set the bags out on the counter, studying the information on them. “The Observatory is old.”

“Then I’ll get right on it.” Jet nodded, gathering his gear and heading for the front door.

“You’re not staying for pavlova?”

“I don’t like eggs.”

I laughed softly and saw him to the door, latching it behind him as he would be the last to leave that way. Jet disappeared into the haze, sprinting for his grandfather’s house across the street.

“Well, I for one love pavlova.” I turned and looked at Faelan. “Can’t wait to see what you make with it.”

“Yeah, come on Faelan, we’re starving here.”

“Starving? You just ate half a sheep!”

“I’ve got a wolf’s appetite.”

“You’re get a paunch if you keep this up.”

As Rafael and Bastian bickered, I gazed at Faelan’s back. He wasn’t moving. I let the others insult each other to distraction, going up to the counter and leaning to see what Faelan was looking at. He had removed his pavlova from the oven. It rested on the marble counter he usually worked on. I had seen many pavlovas before. The last birthday cake Aunt Jo had made me had been a pavlova, large, white, crisp on the outside and fluffy like marshmallow on the inside.

Faelan’s pavlova didn’t look like that. It had sunk in the middle and the exterior had cracked.

My eyes lifted from the pavlova to Faelan’s expression. While it was unreadable, the aura emanating from him wasn’t. I could feel the soul sucking despair.

I opened my mouth to speak when Bastian beat me too it and none too tactfully.

“Oooh, that’s a rather big fail right there.” The werewolf mocked lightly.

“What…did you do?” Faelan demanded, his tone cold and dangerous.

“Oh no, you don’t get to pin the blame on me. I touched nothing.” Bastian chuckled. “I’m just so glad I was here to witness your skill of perfectionism…fail.”

Faelan glared at Bastian, his pale green eyes burning with fury even as I whispered Bastian’s name in soft rebuke. The werewolf folded his arms, not at all bothered by the elf’s ire. I wondered if the tension between them was about to finally erupt.

Faelan turned, picked up the failed pavlova and carried it into the cool room. I put my hands on my hips and scowled at Bastian.

“What?”

“You reek of insensitivity, you know that?” I shot sharply at him.

“Oh come on,” Bastian snorted, “if that had been anyone else, even me, I would have borne the mockery with far greater fortitude. Faelan certainly wouldn’t have been able to resist a few snarky words in my direction so why am I being grilled for doing the same?”

“He was devastated!”

“Not because of his crushed pavlova,” Bastian shook his head, “but because of his crushed pride.”

“Bastian’s right,” Rafael nodded, still sorting his coffee as if nothing had happened, “Faelan has boasted of his perfectionism and finesse on numerous occasions. This humiliation is of his own making.”

“Might actually develop some humility in him.” Bastian agreed.

“Humiliation never produced humility.” I said, quoting my aunt. “It just produces shame.”

“Truer words were never spoken.” Rafael said. I would have spared a moment to digress and asked Rafael why he had agreed so strongly with my statement but I was already following Faelan into the cool room. He was standing with his back to the door, glaring at the failed pavlova as if it would somehow convey the method of its failure.

I wasn’t sure he’d heard me approach, so consumed was he in his failure. I opened my mouth to speak when Faelan’s fists suddenly came down, striking the pavlova, sending shards of meringue to the floor.

My words died on my lips, so shocked was I by the violence of the assault. Faelan’s rage, so unexpected and sudden, was even more frightening than one of Rafael’s dark glares. I took a step backwards, my elbow connecting with a box on a shelf. It was only a light touch but the soft scrape cause Faelan’s head to come up and he turned around and looked at me.

There was fury in his eyes but shame across his features. I had never known someone so calm to look so conflicted. It was as though someone had painted angry eyebrows and a sad mouth on a statue.

Faelan swallowed and at his hands that were smeared with mushy pavlova. He knelt and began to collect all the chunks of meringue he could. In the interim, where words seemed inadequate, I recognised that he was doing what he could to make amends.

“You know,” I blurted as he gathered the mess into his palms, “one of the most famous fails of all time is one of the most anecdotal desserts. Whether or not you believe it was a dog that sat on the picnic basket with the pavlova in it or it was dropped, gathered up and served anyway, it’s universally agreed that Eton Mess wouldn’t be an official dessert without the failure that created it.”

Faelan paused and shook his head, standing and scraping what he’d gathered onto the tray with the rest of the pavlova.

“Only those content with the mediocracy of low standards celebrate failure.” He said quietly.

I stared at him, trying not to let my own insecurities turn the remark into an insult directed at me.

Standing in the cool room, seeing him attempt to pull himself together like the remains of the pavlova, I knew the person he was being harshest on was himself.

“You really need to stop being so hard on yourself.”

“I…appreciate your concern,” Faelan met my gaze, his emotionless shield back in place, “and apologise for my…outburst.”

“Faelan…”

“I shall return to my world and rest so that I am better prepared for tomorrow.” Faelan said, walking past me. “I promise, I will not let you down.”

I watched him go, knowing my words had fallen on deaf pointed ears.

Over the next two days, Faelan was his usual self, returning from his world, rested and resilient. However, I suspected the resilience had nothing to do with learning from his failure. Instead, it had restored his mask of neutrality, detached from any emotional outbursts or anything that would trigger one. To Bastian’s credit, he didn’t bring up the failed pavlova again and no one mocked Faelan for it. Even if they had, I suspected Faelan would have deflected any insults or mockery as though he was behind a forcefield.

It kept him safe.

It kept him distant.

So when they all went home the day before a closed day, I let Rob know I was going haiku hunting in Faelan’s world.

“Query, would you like me to accompany you, Bethany St James?”

We walked towards the Observatory together. “No, stay here. If anything happens you can let the others know.”

“Query, would not Jet suffice?”

“Can he run a café?” I asked pointedly. “Really, I’ll be fine, Rob. I’m only going to poke around at the doorway to see if Aunt Jo left the haiku clue somewhere nearby.”

“Query, did you not think to ask Faelan to accompany you?”

I frowned. “Faelan’s been…different since the other day.”

“Query, when his pavlova ‘failed’?”

“Yeah,” I faced the wall of books Faelan’s world connected to, “it’s like he’s distancing himself from all of us. Besides, when I told him I’d like to visit, he kind of avoided answering the question.”

“Query, did he give any reason?”

“He said it might be dangerous.” I looked at Rob. “You’re wondering why Aunt Jo visited multiple times if it was so dangerous.”

“I confess that was the query I was contemplating.”

“Yeah, me too.” I took a deep breath and put my hand on the door. “Oh…how do I open it? It’s just a bookshelf now.”

“It opens in towards the Observatory.”

“There’s no handle to pull it open though…”

“A light press,” Rob touched the book Faelan came from, ‘The History of the Highborn Elves of Ilanard’, “is enough to unlock,” he drew his hand back, the door swinging open, “the door.”

I paused a moment to study the door and its frame. The books on the shelves ceased to be individuals and became a solid mass, one creating the frame and the other, the door. None of the books were cut through so the vertical edge of the door was a little jagged, a thicker book sticking out here and a skinnier one pulling back in, the frame on the vertical edge was the mirror opposite so that when the door closed, it locked together without a single seam showing. The bottom of the door and frame were straight because they were the flat line of the bookshelf that sat on the tiled floor. The top of the door followed the line of books, some books taller than others but the frame was straight because it was based on the bookshelf.

I eased the door open wide and peered into the beyond.

“Hrm…it’s night.” I leaned in, feeling the fresh touch of mountain air on my skin. I couldn’t make out much from the doorway except for some stone paving and ruined pillars. “Faelan said the door opened in a ruined elven city in the mountains.” I tucked my arms around myself. “It’s quite cool…”

“Query, perhaps you should wait until morning, Bethany St James?”

I recalled Aunt Jo’s pale complexion and my heart constricted. She had been in the coma for over a month.

“No, I’m going to go now. If I don’t find it I can go back.” I paused. “I’m going to need a jacket and a torch.”

“I will procure a torch for you.”

We met back at the doorway after a couple of minutes. I did up the buttons on the jacket.

“After I go through, close the door.” I instructed. “If Faelan was telling the truth about it being dangerous, I’d prefer not to let anything get through.”

“This does not inspire confidence in letting you go on your own.” Rob replied. “Query, could Jet not accompany you?”

“I thought about it,” I sighed, “but I think I can handle a look around.” I paused. “If something happens and I’m not back in two days, you can send someone to look for me.”

“I am calculating a concern factor for this statement.” Rob remarked.

“It’s just a precaution.” I assured him.

“Query, can I take your place, Bethany St James?”

I wished I could take him up on his offer…but he had already told me what I needed to know.

“You said it yourself, Rob,” I looked into his brown eyes, holding my hand out for the torch which he set into my grasp, “Aunt Jo entrusted me with this…she wants me to figure it out myself. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

He nodded and I lightly touched the door, the bookshelf springing open. I opened it fully and stepped through. My boots clicked briefly on flat, smooth stone then crushed a little on gravel or slate, it was hard to tell. I looked back at the doorway to see Rob standing in the threshold, surrounded by sunshine. I smiled at him then began my search by scouring the doorframe. There was nothing there. The door existed between two pillars and an arch. Whether there was meant to be a door there or it had been an archway between one space and another, it was impossible for me to tell. The frame the door to my world existed in was the most solid piece remaining of the ruins.

I took a deep breath and nodded at Rob who closed the door reluctantly. Without the bright beam of sunshine through the doorway it was tempting to turn the torch on but I waited for my eyes to adjust. And really, once they had, I found I didn’t need it nearly as much as I thought I would.

The ruins were on a plateau set within a mountain range. There was no city, no skyscrapers or millions of household lights. It was just a mountain, me and the ruins…and endless sky filled with countless stars and a bright, white moon. It cast its soft, cool light onto the ground I stood on, turning shadows into crisp, black silhouettes.

I ventured further from the door, hunting for an envelope or a letter pinned somewhere. I checked under rocks and loose chunks of slate. There seemed to be a great deal of grey slate around, some loose and others set into the ground. It was possible the slate formed part of the roof or upper structure and had fallen and shattered when the walls had given way. The size of the ruined pillars and the spread of them certainly let me know that the original building had been impressive but there was so little left. Something remarkable had fallen into ruin and disarray. Weeds and tenacious clumps of grass clung to pockets of earth that had not been swept clear by the wind. Each of them appeared to be a letter until I got up close and saw that they were not.

I sighed and looked around.

“When Faelan said ruins…why did I think they wouldn’t be so…extensive?”

A brief look would reveal nothing. I was determined to search properly. I’d made the effort to come. Going home now would be pointless.

“Come on Aunt Jo,” I muttered, looking around, “where did you put it?”

I found some steps and walked down, glancing left and right and came to a wall that might have formed part of a watchtower or balustrade. When I reached the edge I gasped and stepped back.

“Oh…that’s high!”

The moon’s light glanced off the tops of trees, not penetrating more than a foot down so that the forest blanketing the slopes of the mountains were tipped with white light…with shadows as dark as death beneath. The forest swallowed the base of the mountains and it was as though the grand rocky slopes had grown higher and higher to escape its suffocating clutches.

And it was a long way down.

“I think I’ll search back this way.” I backed away from the lip of the wall and began to hunt for the perimeter of the ruins. “If Aunt Jo hid the haiku here, maybe she did so within the ruins…I can at least search here. I can’t go back with nothing.” The weight of responsibility was felt. Rob’s words, that I was the one who could save the world, had never been far from my mind.

“I know others might like that kind of pressure, of being a kind of saviour,” I muttered, using my torch to illuminate dark corners that shied away from the moonlight, “but not me. I hate confrontation. Why on earth would I want to be a saviour? What has Aunt Jo dubbed me in for? Why couldn’t she do this herself? Why me?”

I continued to mumble to myself, swinging my torch left and right, starting to realise that the enormity of the ruins might be impossible to search.

“Maybe I should come back in daylight hours with the guys?” I mused. “I can’t see anything. Maybe I’ll just go home…crap!” I slipped on a loose piece of slate and banged my knee as I fell, tumbled over several times before landing in a ditch. The torch had flown from my hand, its golden eye flashing briefly before disappearing, either broken or fallen into a crevice.

“Figures…” I growled. “Ow…that hurts.” I’d ripped a hole in the knee of my jeans and jarred my elbow on the way down. “Why can’t I come to one of these worlds and not get hurt?” I grumbled. “Bugger this…I’ll come back when its light.”

I grasped a tree and began to climb up the slope heading towards, what I thought were the ruins. However, in the fall, I’d gotten turned around and the ‘ruins’ I’d been aiming for were trees. I stood in the clearing, worrying my bottom lip, feeling panic nip at me.

“Don’t go there,” I warned my flighty heart that was beating with fear, “I just…need to get my bearings.” The problem was, I was surrounded by trees and could see nothing beyond them. “Okay, new plan. If I went up the wrong slope I should go down again and up the opposite side.”

I slipped and slid down the slope for much longer than I thought I’d climbed up it and, of course, because it was me, I became completely lost.

I swore softly over and over again.

“Honestly…a short recon and you manage to get lost? What is wrong with you?” I jumped over a little stream. “I mean, would it have been so hard to just go back to the doorway when you realised it would have been easier to search during daylight hours? What possessed you to think you were some kind of tomb raiding, adventurous survivor?”

Apparently, in lieu of any common sense, I had decided that the faster I went, the better my chances of getting back to the ruins. Panic had properly set in and I was becoming less than rational. I scrambled through the thick forest, tripping over exposed roots and getting slapped in the face by long branches and their ridged leaves. At one point I walked straight through a spider’s web and immediately thought of every story that had a horror spider in it, most of them larger than average size. I went from a fast walk to a sprint, swiping madly as if I could somehow bat the evil eight legged predator with my pathetic hand flapping…which led to my not seeing a sharp decline.

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By the time I reached the bottom, I was breathless, scratched and scraped and my ankle hurt like hell. It took several minutes before I could pick myself up, wiping the tears from my eyes.

“I’m in trouble,” I rasped, “I’m in trouble…I can’t save anyone. I can’t save myself, let alone an entire world…someone…help me…”

My words were whispered to the darkness that closed around me. I felt like Snow White on the run from her evil stepmother, lost in the woods and frightened out of her mind.

“What wouldn’t I give for a friendly dwarf right about now?” I sobbed. “Maybe…maybe I should just call for help? Oh gosh…how angry will he be?”

I had just decided to brave Faelan’s fury at my trespass upon his world and call his name when the world seemed to become quieter…almost still…as if it was holding its breath.

My body trembled as I looked around my dark pit of despair, shadows far outnumbering any dashes of light…and then, in the shadows, what I thought was a leaf…a face lifted and looked at me.

I filled my lungs with the air for an almighty scream yet my body wouldn’t let it out. I was frozen in terror. The pale face stared at me, eyes lit like a cat’s eyes, reflective and glowing in the night. Then they blinked and words were spoken.

“You have trespassed upon our territory, human.”

“I…I…”

“You should not be here.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted, “please…please don’t kill me.”

The eyes blinked. “We are not humans who kill needlessly. You need not fear us.”

“What are you?”

There was a soft exhale of air, possibly a laugh or a snort of scorn, I couldn’t tell.

“Do you not know where you are?” I shook my head.

“Light a torch, Bedwyr…you know humans cannot see in the dark.”

A torch burst into flame, illuminating my pathetic state. I winced away from the light, the face no longer just illuminated by moonlight. In the light of the torch I stared in surprise.

“You’re an elf!” The elf gazed at me calmly. I looked around and realised there were another two elves behind me. “You’re all elves!”

“Of course we are. You are within our borders.”

The first elf, Bedwyr, looked up. “What should we do with her?”

“She should be taken to the edge of our borders and left to join the other humans.”

“But her presence ought to be reported.”

“Let us take her to Iffah, to King Cadeyrn. Her presence will be reported and we can leave her in the neutral territory between our land and the humans much more swiftly.”

“Agreed.” Bedwyr looked at me. “On your feet, human.”

“It’s Bethany.” I said, standing up.

“Your name is of no consequence to me.” Bedwyr turned his back and began to walk. The elves behind me waited and I realised I was expected to follow. My body was not impressed with yet another march through the forest but I had little choice. The elves walked confidently and calmly, moving with ease through the thick brush. I fought and scratched my way through, tripping over rocks and roots, becoming angry at the silent treatment. The torch Bedwyr held wasn’t much good in his hands as it didn’t illuminate the ground in front of me.

“Can I have the torch, please?” I asked at last. “I can’t see where I’m going.”

Bedwyr turned to me, his eyes conveying scorn. “How can humans ever accomplish anything?”

“For one thing, we’re capable of being polite.” I held out my hand and, after a pause, he handed it to me. With the torch in my possession, I was able to see the ground much better. Unfortunately, with my head lowered to watch my step, I did get the odd branch slapped in my face and I was terrified of setting the forest alight, a fear that was nearly realised when a cluster of dry leaves crackled and caught fire.

I screamed pathetically but one of the elves calmly spoke to the fire in his elvish tongue and the flames diminished until they disappeared. He shot me a look and I swallowed, burning with embarrassment.

I was extra careful as I followed them until we reached a path of braided vines. Hanging from overhead were bluebell-like flowers but these were green and inside each one was a soft, luminous glow. Bedwyr took the torch from me and doused it in a stream.

“Even your human eyes will be able to see where we are going now.” He remarked, continuing to lead the way.

He was right. The flower lights hung in clusters over the braided path that snaked its way around trees that were becoming so large I would have become puffed running around their trunks. Even the fig tree back home could not compare to the enormous trees and their roots, winding through and in some places, even becoming archways for us to walk beneath.

“I thought tree roots were meant to be beneath the ground.” I whispered, forgetting that my rescued were not the chattiest of people. Thankfully one of them chose to answer.

“Water has eroded much of the earth away.”

“What water?” I looked around.

“You will see.”

I could hear the falls long before I could see them. The rush of water was so loud I began to wonder if I had taken a wrong turn and ended up at Niagara Falls. The path we were on wound around and around before snaking between two large trees. On the other side, I was rendered mute and frozen at the sight.

To my left were the waterfalls that pounded the ground, causing even stone to recede. From where I was standing, I could feel the spray upon my face, icy and sharp. The waterfall emptied into a river that thrashed and coursed wildly through the forest, rampaging with all the energy it had accumulated as it had descended the mountains. On either side of the river were two trees that were over ten stories high, not including their roots. Their branches were so wide that they connected above the river, creating a ceiling of leaves and their roots formed a bridge as though the trees were holding hands.

“Look well, human,” Bedwyr said proudly, “you behold what few humans have ever seen…the divine light of the highborn elven tribe of Iffah.”

Even in daylight, I doubted much natural light would make it through the thick canopy of leaves. Light rested within the bell flowers and drifted in the air like sparkles of light kept adrift by the breath of the elves themselves.

“How…” I breathed. “How did the trees…how are they like that?”

“Water washed away the earth around them, but they held onto each other and remained strong against the tide.”

I felt my heart bloom, imagining that these trees were lovers who never wanted to let go, no matter the circumstances around them.

“That’s beautiful.” I breathed. “You all live here?”

“We do.”

One of the other elves cleared their throat. “Bedwyr…hold your tongue. Conversing with humans is prohibited unless absolutely necessary.”

Bedwyr looked admonished and nodded, leading us on. I felt a little bad that he’d been reprimanded just for answering my question.

“Sorry.” I breathed.

He gave me a look I didn’t quite understand yet said nothing more to me as I followed him along the path, heading for the roots of one of the great trees. It was only as we drew closer that I realised one of the giant trees was dead. Anything green and vibrant upon it was from its partner on the other side of the river, still clinging to its lover even though it had died. I was marched over the river, the waterfall singing in its many toned voice, bellowing like a rushing wind. The roots were thickly entwined. There was no way even someone as clumsy as I could fall from them.

From above the waterfall, there was a slight gap in the canopy, the sky lightening as dawn began to break. It was the only place I could see the sky and not just refracted light. One of the elves cleared their throat and I kept walking, having stalled to stare.

On the other side of the river, Bedwyr led us down around the living tree, to loop and go beneath it. In the darkness of the overhang were more bell flower lights and I saw stairs. They wound around and around the inside of the tree. All the decorations, the detail of Iffah was carved direct from the tree itself. As we climbed, we began to pass other elves. Every single one stopped and stared at me. Some looked surprised. Others looked disgusted and some simply stared with a kind of hollowness in their gaze that made my heart tremble. Just when my legs began to threaten to quit, we reached a landing, nestled in the middle of the tree beneath an arch with large carved doors adorned with living flowers.

“They’re planted…in the tree?” I gaped.

Two elf guards stood on the landing.

“Explain yourselves for bringing this human into our midst?” One demanded.

“She was found well within our borders. Had it been a minor trespass, we would have taken her to the edge of Iffah and let her return to the humans. However, we felt her presence needed to be addressed.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” I tried to insist.

“I will speak with the king. Wait here.” The elf guard turned and entered the, what I guessed was, the throne room.

“Can I sit?” I asked Bedwyr. He didn’t answer verbally but nodded. I sank onto the top stair and leaned against the wall. I was exhausted. I wanted to ask if anyone knew Faelan but suspected that I’d already used up my allocated question amount and was resigned to wait. While I did, I studied the elves. They all looked like carbon copies of Faelan. There were minor differences but, on the whole, they were extremely similar with their fine features, soft green eyes, pale gold hair and unreadable expressions. I realised I had assumed my captors were all male but even as I saw an elf in a gown exit the throne room, it occurred to me that they were so similar in feature, I’d be hard pressed to know the difference. Bedwyr’s voice had impressed me with male tones so I guessed he was a guy.

A soft horn sounded in the air. I looked at Bedwyr whose eyes flickered towards me then away again. The elf guard reappeared.

“You may enter and give your report,” he announced then looked at me and addressed me for the first time, “and you will give proper honour to the King of Iffah.”

I nodded and made a hurried attempt to neaten my appearance as I was escorted into the throne room. It wasn’t adorned with gold or anything opulent. Rather, the carvings and detail spoke for themselves. Even the throne was sculpted from the tree itself, however, not from the floor but from the ceiling. It was carved into a hanging throne, the ‘drapes’ that connected it to the ceiling delicately carved so that it was as though it was made of wood lace. Sitting on the throne, with soft light resting on his noble features, was King Cadeyrn.

The scouts that had brought me in stood in front of me and gave their report.

“…which is why we felt compelled to bring her before you, my lord.” Bedwyr ended with a shallow bow.

Cadeyrn waved his hand and the scouts stepped aside, exposing me to the King’s scrutiny. I swallowed, his gaze far less warm than Faelan’s. I couldn’t fathom why I was so distrusted. Perhaps humans in this world were not to be trusted? Maybe they attacked elves?

“My lord, your sons are here.”

“Send them in.” He said sitting primly on his throne. He wore a crown of twisted brown wood, simple, understated yet imposing in its own way. His clothing was made of robes of soft green and deep brown and had he gone for a walk in his forest, he would have been indistinguishable from the background.

It suddenly occurred to me that, if Faelan was of the royal bloodline of Iffah, then this was his father…so when it was announced that his sons were there…

I held my breath as the doors opened and three more people entered the room, walking around to my left to pass in front of the king. An elf, taller than Faelan, was first and he bowed before his father before turning towards me. He also wore a vine crown though it was not as elaborate as his father’s. There was something equally as steely in his eyes as there was in Cadeyrn’s. The second son bowed to his father and turned, also standing on his father’s left. While the first born and his father looked at me with coldness, the second son had a dangerous ire in his eyes that mimicked the rage I’d seen in Faelan’s when he’d struck the pavlova. My presence deeply offended the second son who wore a crown that had thorns incorporated into it and I wondered if, in a pinch, it could be used as a weapon.

I swallowed as Cadeyrn’s third son walked into my line of sight and bowed, taking place at Cadeyrn’s right hand. His face was impassive and his eyes, which did not meet my own, were devoid of all kindness. It was as if he didn’t know me at all. His crown was the simplest of all three and yet, while it more closely resembled his father’s crown, I saw thorns in its design that looked as though they were pointed inwards and not outwards.

My jaw trembled.

“Why is this…savage…before us?” The first son asked. Though he called me ‘savage’, I didn’t detect any anger. It was like he was just stating a fact.

“She was found well within our borders at the base of the mountains of Xephis.” Cadeyrn said calmly with poise and perfect diction.

“Really?” The first born son turned to his brother. “Urien? Care to explain?”

“It is not unheard of for a savage,” this time I heard real hatred, “to trespass so deeply…but I assure you, once I question her, I will make it impossible.”

For the first time ever, I wondered if elves were capable of torture.

“And risk further contamination?” First born shook his head. “The scouts have erred greatly bringing her here and must be brought to task.”

“That is my responsibility, Cybel, not yours.” Urien retorted.

“It should have never reached the throne room of Iffah.” Cybel replied.

Though the words spoken were polite enough, I could hear the underlying sibling rivalry. I wanted to look at Faelan but I was worried I’d get him into trouble. He stood still, even his robes, changed from his practical elven garb I’d seen him in the first day we’d met, barely moving.

“Such a breach of our borders requires my attention,” Cadeyrn said quietly, breaking the brotherly stalemate with calm authority, “and I have no fear of being seduced by the savagery of the humans. However,” he turned and looked at his sons as though gauging their souls, “I shall hear the council of my sons on this matter. What say you?”

“She must be removed at once.” Cybel responded without hesitation. “Humans have done nothing to add value to this world and they have certainly taken from it.”

“Urien?” Cadeyrn asked.

“The humans trespass time and time again…it seems an example needs to be made so that their corrupting ways are contained to their own species.”

Would he skin me alive? Even if he didn’t, I wasn’t going to get out of this place without a whipping according to Urien.

“We need not lower ourselves to their base standards of instinct and self gratification,” Cadeyrn responded and I suspected he’d just saved my life, “however, perhaps there is another way.”

“She could be taken to the nearest border into neutral territory…and set free.” Cybel offered.

“During the season of bears?” Urien gave a smile I did not like. “I should like to see her cross the low forest unscathed. If she makes it to the other humans, then she deserves to live.”

Would he follow me and shoot me down before I made it to safety? That’s what it sounded like. I turned to Faelan, unable to not look at him now. He was my only hope of getting out of this mess. All he had to do was say he’d escort me to the ruins…or lie and say he was taking me anywhere so long as I got home.

“Faelan, my son…you have said nothing. I would hear your council.” Cadeyrn turned to him.

I pressed my lips together, waiting for Faelan to leap to my defence.

He was an elf, for crying out loud!

He was noble.

He was good.

He was compassionate.

My breath hissed as I breathed in sharply at his gaze.

I trembled.

“Cybel’s word is sound,” Faelan said with a voice as hollow as the tree we were in, “and all contact must be cleansed.”

Urien gave a disgruntled huff which disguised my gasp of horror at Faelan’s coldness.

“My son speaks well,” Cadeyrn nodded, “have the scouts do as he has said and then return for the cleansing.”

Urien gave a sharp wave and I felt Bedwyr’s hand on my arm.

“Wait…” I gasped. “Wait!”

“You must come.”

“No…this isn’t…Fa…”

And just like that, I was hauled out of the throne room. The same scouts who had captured me were the ones who took me through the forest of the elves, following the path of the river. After a much smaller waterfall than the first, was a ferry on the river. Bedwyr bade me to get on.

“When it stops, get off and make for the closest human settlement.” He told me.

“You’re just going to dump me in a bear riddled forest?” I exclaimed, doing as he said.

“It is what was decreed.”

Yeah…and I know by who. It might have been Cybel’s idea but Faelan had confirmed it.

I looked at Bedwyr. “I don’t know where I’m going!”

His face twitched with concern. He leaned down to fiddle with the ropes but did nothing except speak in a low voice. “Do not dally in the low forest. Get out of it as soon as possible. Make for the smoke of human fire. If you can, run.”

With that the ferry was released, the wooden platform I was on dragged down the river. All too soon the scouts disappeared around a bend and I could see the mountains getting further and further away. The ride on the ferry was pretty smooth, taking me all the way to the edge of the forest of Iffah. I could even see the change in colour of the forest from dark green and luminous to a drier, warmer forest. I did begin to wonder if it would carry me all the way to the ocean but before the forest ended, the ferry was drawn to the riverbank by a pulley system and I had little choice but to disembark. Somehow they knew that I had alighted and the ferry began to be drawn back up the river, leaving me on the pebbled bank, further than ever before from the door that would lead me home.

“Rob must be frantic by now,” I whispered, “well, as frantic as he gets.”

Bedwyr’s words returned to me and I turned around, hunting for any sign of smoke. There was none.

I looked at the forest, how endless it seemed. “I’ve got to get back to the mountains.” I took a deep breath. “If I use the change in the way the forest looks as my guide, I can follow it around towards the mountains and try to climb back up from the other side.” Rage suddenly flooded me and my fists clenched as I looked up the river. “Damn and blast! You couldn’t have defended me at all, could you?”

Still reeling from his betrayal, I turned back towards the forest, took a deep breath and began my march. Day had well and truly broken over the world of Ilanard and it wasn’t long before I’d worked up a sweat. No longer chilled by mountain winds or the hospitality of the elves, I was quick to remove my jacket and then my scarf, my gloves, my jumper until soon I was carrying more than I was wearing.

Thankfully, knowing I would be hunting around ruins, I’d worn my hiking boots that had only ever traipsed a flight of stairs and the highest they’d ever gone was three stories until today. My jeans now had holes in the knees but I figured they’d be deemed as ‘distressed’ and I had worn a short ribbed tank top beneath my jumper. Everything else I bundled into the pockets of my jacket then tied it around my waist.

“I look like I’m from the nineties.” I muttered, striding onwards.

The leaves crunched beneath my feet. There was a covering of them over the ground. I looked up at the trees. It must have been autumn as the leaves were dropping everywhere. There was still plenty of warmth in the air from the sun but I could see how quickly it would become cold at night.

“Do I even know how to start a fire?” I wondered. “I am so out of my depth.” Faelan’s unfeeling expression returned to me and my jaw tightened so hard I thought it might snap. “Unbelievable…unfathomable…unthinkable!” The anger in me writhed and twisted and turned so hard, my nails dug into my palms. “How could he? Is my trespass so despicable that he would disown me? Or worse! Not acknowledge me at all?”

I picked up a stick and began striking out at the trees that were not nearly as large as the ones in the elven city of Iffah.

“Am I so disgusting in his eyes? What are humans like here?” I had a sudden and frightening image of any and all movies where humans had turned into mindless, violent cannibals, hellbent on destruction. “I’ll just have to avoid all elves and all humans. Where did those mountains go?”

Despite the daylight, soon my exhaustion caught up with me. “Oh yeah…the time difference.” I had wisely left my phone behind as I’m sure it would have been destroyed in the tumble down the mountain or lost. It wouldn’t have been much good to me in Ilanard. “So if I left at five, ish, and I’ve been here for…oh hours…

Anger and fear could only keep a person going for so long. Despite my determination to keep walking until I reached the ruins, I began to falter and become clumsy. My stomach was growling and my head was hurting.

“I don’t even have anything with me to hold water.” I sighed. “I’ll have to drink up deep every time I find a stream.” I did spy some fruit on a tree that looked a lot like apples but I didn’t know if they were safe to eat. I figured I could suffer a growling belly for a while but finding water was becoming a desperate necessity. I’d never known what it was like to go without it for so long, especially with all the exercise of climbing mountains, escaping spiderwebs and trekking through forests.

An hour later I was stumbling rather than walking. It was inevitable really that I fell, putting my foot into a rabbit hole and twisting it as I tumbled into the leaves that broke my fall but did nothing to stop the wrenching of my ankle. I was pretty sure all of Ilanard heard me swear. I clutched at my ankle, rocking back and forth, my eyes smarting with the pain until it began to subside. I braced myself against a tree and tried to put some weight on my foot. The screech I made sent birds flying from their nests.

“Ow, pain…pain…lots of pain.” I slid down the tree, slumping in the leaves, my body exhausted. “I really, really, really want to visit a world where I don’t get hurt.” My ankle throbbed relentlessly, joining in assault with my pounding head. “I need…I need to rest. Maybe it won’t hurt so much…after I rest.”

I dozed fitfully, on and off for goodness knows how long. The sun was beyond its zenith when I opened my eyes properly, the light making my dehydrated head pound with renewed vigour and looked around at the shadows that were lengthening.

“I need to keep moving,” I murmured, “I need to find water…what are those?”

Next to me was a pile of the apple fruit I’d been sceptical of earlier, neatly stacked into a pyramid so that there was no way to mistake that they’d been placed there deliberately. Resting in the leaves beside it was a canteen. I looked around but was unable to see anyone.

“Hello?” I called softly yet no one answered. I picked up the canteen and opened it, sniffing the water inside. “Please…don’t poison me.”

I gulped the water with barely a pause and almost immediately my head began to feel better. With my wits about me I studied the apples.

“There’s only one person I know who would do something like this…and make sure they weren’t seen to be doing it.” I gritted my teeth and, deliberately, only took the first apple off the top of the pile, refusing to take the rest. “I won’t take more than I need. Not from you.” I said quietly even though I was pretty sure he wasn’t anywhere nearby to hear.

I began to walk away and after about ten paces I stopped.

“My ankle…” Rage nearly floored me. I spun around, ran back to the remaining apples in their pile and kicked them hard, scattering their round bodies across the leaves. “You hypocrite! You heal me in secret because you’re ashamed of me?” I threw the one apple I had taken and stormed off.

“He couldn’t have defended me against his father or at least offered to escort me back to the ruins, oh no…but he will offer the paltry serving of fruit and heal my ankle to sooth his wounded pride. Damn. Blast. Stupid freaking elf! I wish I’d never come!”

Stomping and raging, I never noticed the bear until I was almost on top of it.

I saw it’s back across the clearing, its snout buried into a carcass, its claws ripping apart the body of a deer. At my noisy approach it began to turn and I was too far into the clearing to escape being seen.

Its yellow eyes locked onto me and it drew itself up to full height, at least eight feet tall with claws as long as my fingers, still slick from its fresh kill. Its muzzle wrinkled into a snarl, saliva dripping from its jaws and it roared at me a split second before it charged.

I had never seen anything move so fast. One moment it was roaring and the next, it was halfway across the clearing, tearing leaves up in its charge with the same ease that it was going to rip into my body.

I had no time to think or react. I might have tried to move but it was too little too late.

Abruptly there was a whistling next to my ear and in the next instant the bear bellowed, an arrow sticking out of its left eye, deeply embedded into its brain. Its enormous body tumbled head over heels, crashing towards me to halt at my feet, still and dead.

I gave a little whimper and took one step back…then another…

…then was grabbed from behind.

“Are you hurt?” I was spun around, Faelan’s eyes fixed upon my own. “Bethany, are you hurt?”

I stared at him…then the forest rang out with my fingers slapping elf skin.

I hit him hard with all the fright, flight and fight responses rolled into one.

Faelan barely moved but his skin immediately blushed red except for a handprint across his cheek which almost glowed white.

“You…bastard!” I yelled at him. “You said nothing! Nothing!” He stared at me without arguing or protestation. It only served to make me angrier. “You dumped me on the wrong side of the damn mountains in a bear infested forest!”

“I had to.” Faelan blurted.

“Why? Because I’m a savage human? Because I might contaminate you?” Shock had set in and I was shaking. I yanked myself out of his presence, giving the corpse of the bear a wide berth as I stormed away from him. “You are utterly despicable!”

I was halfway across the clearing when he spoke. “You did not tell me you were coming.”

I stopped and faced him. “You made it pretty clear you didn’t want me here.”

“With good reason.” Faelan strode towards me. “It is dangerous here.”

“No, it’s dangerous for humans here.” I retorted. “Your brother wanted to skin me alive!”

“He would never have done that.”

“You’re telling me he wouldn’t have enjoyed making me bleed just a little?” I snarled. “He wanted to watch me get mauled by a bear!”

“I would never let that happen.” Faelan argued.

I couldn’t make it work.

I couldn’t put the two halves together.

Faelan who killed a bear to protect me and had tracked me to keep me safe.

Faelan who ignored me and acted like I was…poison.

“But who will you be in the next instant?” I demanded. “My friend or a fiend?”

Faelan’s expression flickered and I wondered if I’d found it, the one who’d hurt Aunt Jo.

Suddenly his bow was in his hands, an arrow resting in the shaft. I don’t know why he’d want to shoot me at such close range. He could have stabbed me with the arrow we were so close.

“What are you…”

“We are not alone.” Faelan’s eyes grazed the clearing’s edges. I could see nothing. “I will protect you.”

“I wish you had.” I muttered.

A clapping was heard from within the shadow of a tree. A young man in tunic, trousers and boots approached. His black hair was cut in an angular style and his eyes were piercing.

“Quite the little melodrama.” He chuckled. “Oh, stay your arrow, elf. I’m not here to pick a fight with you.” He sauntered around us with a chuckle, Faelan keeping his arrow on him. “I am very curious, though, about the fight between yourself and the young lady.”

“That is not your concern.” Faelan replied darkly.

“When you dump humans in a bear infested forest, we tend to take it personally.” The young man looked at me. “I heard your words. You don’t have to stay with him. We can protect you.”

As he held his hand out, I heard the string on Faelan’s bow tighten even more.

“You will not touch her.”

“Why? Because we’re savages?” He sniggered. “You elves really need to stop believing everything you hear.”

“I hear you and the nine others with you. I swear, if you touch her, I will kill you as I did the bear.”

“Enough!” A strong voice carrying authority entered the clearing. We all turned and saw an older man with long, brown hair, strands braided from his temples into a tail at the back of his head, striding towards us. He also wore a tunic but unlike the young man, he had a collarless shirt underneath with ties at the neck and wrists. His vest was quilted with leather insets and his trousers looked well worn and tucked into heavy boots. His eyes were brown with little flecks of yellow in them, like the autumn leaves that were falling around us.

“You’ve had your fun, Micael, but perhaps I should intervene before you get yourself and the others killed.”

“Aye sir.”

The older man eyed us both with a certain amount of intuitiveness in his eyes.

“Well, a rendezvous between an elf and a human in the woods…it’s not the first but it’s hardly common.” The man looked directly at me. “Dumped in the forest by the elves of Iffah?” I nodded even though he must have already known. “A lone human is easy pickings during this season. Bears hunt and consume vast amounts before they hibernate. It’s practically a death sentence. It’s a good thing you had an elf to protect you.” I stepped to the side, putting distance between myself and Faelan. The older man seemed to interpret much by this action. “Ah…less of a good thing and more of an…inconvenience?”

“Do not think to guess my motives.” Faelan said coldly.

“You’d be surprised how well I know elves.”

“You would be surprised how much you know is false.”

“Excuse me,” I darted forward, out from Faelan’s reach yet not quite putting myself into the older man’s, “look, I’m not here to get into a racial war. I just want to get to the ruins of Xephis.”

The man turned and gazed at me with startling revelation in his eyes. “Are

you…from ‘House of Figs’?”

My jaw dropped and I gaped at him. “How do you know about it?”

“I know someone from there. Johanne…W…something. I’m terrible with names.”

“West.”

“Yes!” He nodded. “She used to visit often but a few months ago…she stopped.”

“She’s…in a coma.”

The man creased his brow and sighed. “I am terribly sorry. She was a nice lady. She got along with my wife…like putting two wildfires together. It was all I could do to keep up.” He glanced at Faelan. “I’m guessing, then, that you’re Faelan Iffah…well, well, well…apples do tend to fall from trees don’t they?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing, not my story to tell.” He cleared his throat. “My name is Asher and we’ve been tracking that particular bear since it was targeting our sheep and getting a little close for comfort to our village. I can take you there tomorrow and from there, you can ascend the mountains back to the ruins.”

“Tomorrow? I can’t go now?”

“Unless you know where you’re going and have the speed and surefootedness of an elf, it’s a roundabout trek.” Asher pointed behind us. We turned and I gagged, the crew of hunters, mostly young men and a couple of women, carving into the carcass of the bear. “No point it going to waste. We’ll set up camp nearby, use the remaining light to pack the meat as best we can, stack it onto our sledge and drag it back tomorrow.”

“You’re going to camp out here? With the bears?” I trembled.

“I promise you’ll be safe.” Asher insisted.

“We will find our own way.” Faelan said, putting his hand on my shoulder. I pulled away from his grasp and stepped towards Asher.

“I can’t speak for Faelan, but I’ll stay with you…as long as you promise I’ll be safe not just from the bears.”

Asher’s eyes grew sad. “I can only guess what you’ve heard about the debased and predatory humans…but you have my word that no harm of any kind will befall you from my people,” his eyes lit upon Faelan briefly, “or others if ever you need it.”

“Asher, can you make sure we’re cutting this up right?”

“Excuse me.”

I watched Asher walk over to the carcass and heard him give instructions to the young hunters.

“Bethany,” Faelan whispered urgently, “you cannot trust these people.”

“Yeah well, I thought I could trust you.” I said coldly and walked away from him. Unfortunately the only place to go where I knew he would not follow was closer to the bear. The young hunters were extremely fast at carving it up, stripping the fur from its back, talking animatedly as they did so as though the concept that their hands were red stained with blood that was yet to truly cool was not repulsive. Asher watched over their work, commenting now and then but mostly standing off to the side. I hovered close to him, using him as a barrier between myself and the diminishing form of the dead bear.

“They’ll be able to handle it from there. Micael?”

“Yes sir?”

“I’ll take…Bethany was it?” I nodded. “I’ll take Bethany to where we left our supplies. We’ll make for the overhang. That should be within the dead bear’s territory. I’ll set up camp.”

“You got it.”

Asher turned to me. “I’m sorry to ask you to walk even further after how far you’ve travelled but this bear ran when it knew we were tracking it and I suspect we’re in another bear’s territory now. I would prefer to retreat to a safer distance.”

“If the bear ran, why bother tracking it? Surely it was just scared?”

“Of ten hunters, yes,” Asher shook his head, “but hunger is a fierce motivator and it would have returned before long to prey on our lands. So far we have only lost livestock. I’d struggle to forgive myself if we lost a child to it.”

“That’s fair. I can walk.” I tested my ankle again then heard my stomach growl. “Sorry.”

Asher chuckled and led me to where they’d left their supplies. We passed a hunter who was leading a pony with a sledge hitched to its back towards the bear.

“Make sure the seals on the barrels are tight.” Asher warned.

“Yes sir.”

“Here,” Asher handed me an apple from a bag, “give your stomach something to gnaw on before it chews its way out of you.”

“Thanks.” I bit into it, surprised by the bitter bite to it. “Oh…I was expecting it to be sweet.”

“Not to your liking?”

“Oh no, it’s fine. It’s just red apples tend to be sweet in my world and green apples are sour.”

“Green apples? Who ever heard of green apples?” Asher chuckled. “Our worlds are quite different.” He picked up a large knapsack and heaved it onto his back. “Come. We’ll go ahead of the others. They’ll catch up in no time.”

“What if they’re attacked by that other bear?”

“They’ll do what I was intending to have them do with your bear. This was mostly a defensive hunt but I did want my young hunters to show me how well they could track.” Asher explained. “We have about an hour’s walk ahead of us.”

“I’m ready.”

If I’d been entirely rational and not been betrayed by an elf I thought I could trust, I would have considered what I was doing to be rather foolish. Here I was, traipsing deeper into the forest with a man I barely knew without any idea of how to get home or if he could be trusted. Once my stomach was satisfied, doubts began to gnaw instead of hunger. I glanced at Asher’s back, wondering if I’d put myself in the power of a man I couldn’t really trust just because I was angry with Faelan.

I glanced around, looking for the elf but could see no sign of him.

“He’ll be keeping an eye on you, don’t worry.” Asher’s deep voice reached me and I blushed at being caught out. He chuckled and continued to lead me to the ‘overhang’. It was a large splinter of rock sticking out of the ground, forming natural cover. Tucked against the overhang where it met the ground in the deepest cover was a pile of sticks and logs. In the middle of the clearing was a ring of rocks and charred sticks. Asher dropped his pack on the ground and set about clearing up the old fire.

“Can I help?” I asked, feeling a little useless.

“Could you fetch me some water?” He pointed over his shoulder. “It’s just that way.” I took the bucket he offered and urged my feet to make one more walk. The stream wasn’t far at all, burbling happily as it ran. I dunked the bucket into the stream, scooping up as much water as I could carry. When I looked up I spied Faelan amidst the trees on the other side. When I blinked, he’d vanished.

I sighed and hauled the water back. Asher had started a tiny fire which was already growing.

“Thankfully we don’t have to go looking for firewood.” He said, using the stash at the back of the overhang. I watched as he took four wrought iron posts from his pack and made a pyramid over the fire, tying them together at the top. He then suspended a pot from the tie and tipped some of the water I’d toted into it. A package from his pack went into the water and he stirred it. “By the time the hunters return with the meat, the broth will be well on its way.”

“Okay…”

For the size of the bear, it really didn’t take the hunters long at all to arrive just as the sun was dipping so low it sent dazzling shafts of light through the trees.

“Any troubles?” Asher asked.

“None whatsoever.” Micael held out a leather parcel. “For the hungry hunters.”

“Go wash up while I’m cooking.”

“You mean burning?”

“Be off with you.”

It dawned on me that I was probably about as unkempt and feral as could be. I followed the others to the stream and knelt at the edge to splash water on my face.

“You’re better off upstream.” One of the girls jerked her head.

“Oh…sorry.” I stood up.

“Well, you don’t want to wash your face in our grime.” She waggled her fingers at me and I noted how bloodied her nails were.

I tried not to gag and went upstream. The hunters bantered and laughed with the same kind of camaraderie as I had with the guys at ‘House of Figs’. It was nice to hear them chatter although I felt a little removed from it. I still didn’t know if I could trust them. I glanced at the girl who had warned me about being downstream and as she finished up her ablutions, she tucked her milk chocolate brown hair behind her ear…which displayed a decidedly elven point. I stared, astonished. She didn’t notice my gaze and wandered back to the campsite. I followed and found a place around the fire. I noticed that no one sat too close to either side of me. I wondered if the humans found me equally as despicable as the elves had.

Asher was busy cooking meat on a griddle he’d laid on the fire.

“Grab a bowl and have some broth.” He instructed.

“Okay.” I spooned a little of the broth into a bowl I was handed. The pack Asher had put in seemed to contain vegetables and the seasoning had thickened the water slightly so it was quite a decent portion. “Spoon?” A round of chortles was heard. I looked at the hunters who slurped from the edge of their bowls. “Oh…” I did the same.

“On a hunt we pack as light as possible.”

“Yes, because spoons are really heavy.” I said then clapped my hand over my mouth.

The young hunters roared with laughter and even Asher chuckled.

“Don’t want to put too much weight on an old man’s shoulders.” Micael snorted.

“Just for that, you can go last when it comes to the meat.” Asher retorted and Micael groaned. “Bethany?”

“Oh…thank you.” I looked at the browned meat on the griddle and picked over it, finding a small piece. “Um…was this the…bear?”

“Part of the shoulder.” Asher paused. “It is not poisoned if that is your concern?”

“It’s not that…” I swallowed, staring at the nicely cooked piece of meat. “I just…don’t eat meat of animals I’ve seen the face of.”

“Huh?” The girl with the pointed ears took a piece of bear meat and tore a chunk out of it. “How would you eat it otherwise?”

“I go to a supermarket and buy it in a package.”

“A whole bear?”

“No, no,” I shook my head, “not bear. Um, beef ground up into mince or steak…in a tray…with wrapping around it. Just a single piece…”

I was unnerved to see that I had the attention of all the hunters.

“You go to a…market…and just…buy meat?”

“Yeah…”

“You don’t kill it? You don’t have hunters?”

“We have slaughterhouses.”

“For all the bears that run rampant in your world?”

“Not bears. Cows, pigs, chickens, sheep…lots of animals.”

“And they’re just there?”

“Yeah,” I looked at Asher who was chuckling softly to himself, “what did I say?”

“We do not have ‘markets’ for meat. In our village, we have a communal supply of livestock that is managed by a steward and a team of hunters,” Asher gestured to the young men and women around the fire, “who kill any predatory animals or hunt when livestock is getting low.”

“You hunt, kill and prepare your own meat.” I shuddered, gazing at the meat. “Buying it the way I do must seem really…”

“Lazy.”

“Fantastic.”

“Convenient.”

“Boring.”

I nodded. “All of the above I guess.”

“You don’t have to eat it,” Asher insisted, “but given that it was going to eat you, I think you eating it has a sense of irony about it.”

I braced myself then shoved the piece into my mouth and chewed. The flavour was strong but the texture wasn’t bad at all. I chewed over and over then forced myself to swallow.

“Well done.” Asher chuckled and the hunters clapped.

“Thanks.” I slurped some broth to wash it down. Thankfully it was hearty enough on its own so that I could avoid any more bear meat. I edged a little closer to Asher.

“Yes?” He asked, anticipating my question.

“Is that young huntress over there,” I pointed as subtly as I could, “an elf?”

Asher smiled but didn’t answer. Instead, the young woman did.

“My great grandmother was an elf,” she announced across the fire, loud enough that everyone heard her, “I inherited her ears and hearing,” she jerked her head towards another young man who looked quite similar except his hair was a little lighter in hue, “my brother who is also my twin inherited being sneaky.”

“You mean stealthy.”

“I know what I said.” She shrugged and he rolled his eyes. She looked at me. “I’m Alana and that’s Emer.”

“Bethany,” I gestured to myself, “you know…cause I guess I haven’t really met any of you properly.” There was a round of introductions and I knew I would forget most of them despite my best intentions. “So, your great grandmother was an elf?”

Alana nodded. “Yep. She defected over sixty years ago.”

“Defected? You make it sound like she was a Russian during the Cold War.”

A sea of blank faces stared at me. “Why would a war be cold?” Micael asked.

“Perhaps it was just fought in winter?” Emer shrugged.

“No, no, it was…oh forget about the Russians and the Cold War.” I sighed. “I mean, with elves thinking humans are pretty repulsive…”

“That’s the point, really.” Asher explained. “In the minds of the elves of Iffah, and all pure bloodline elves, humans are lower class beings.”

“We’re savages.”

“Violent.”

“A corruptive influence.”

From their tones, I knew they were partially joking but I suspected there was a little resentment in them.

“Elves do not mingle with humans,” Asher continued, “and any contact is considered to be extremely corrosive.”

“Which is why they have something called the cleansing?”

“Exactly.” He nodded. “Because of their aversion to our kind, human and elf romances are few and far between…but they do happen.”

“When you say few and far between?”

Asher nodded at Alana. “Olwyn, Alana’s great grandmother, defected over half a century ago. Since then, only one other has chosen to leave Iffah.”

“And they’re not allowed to go back?”

“And pollute the pure bloodline?” Emer shook his head and made a warding sign with his fingers then shrugged.

“That seems extreme.” I looked at Asher. “What’s their problem?”

Asher held up his hand, stopping the young hunters from answering my question. When they had all clamped their lips shut he lowered his hand and gazed at me sadly.

“As a community of humans and elves, or the elvan which is what we call our village, we are hardly in a position to be neutral in our opinions or even able to provide insight without prejudice. I hope your questions will be answered tomorrow.” He looked around at everyone. “Time to sleep. Bank down the fire. Bethany,” he held out a bedroll, “it gets cold at night. Make sure you’re not too far from the fire.”

“Thanks.” I watched how the others laid out their beds and tried to copy their movements. I’d never been camping before and I’d never seen the appeal but given my situation, it was clear I had to swallow my pride and camp. Asher wasn’t wrong about the chill in the air. Summer might still be clinging to the autumn season during the day but at night, winter crept in to remind everyone that it was not far away. I looked into the darkness, wondering if Faelan was cold.

“Asher,” he glanced up from his bedroll, “I don’t suppose you have another blanket or bedroll?”

He nodded and handed me a blanket. “Are you cold?”

“I just thought…” I shrugged and nodded my head to the darkness. Asher followed my eyes and somehow understood my vague request.

“I don’t mean to belittle your kindness…but I doubt he needs it, let alone would accept it.”

“I know.” I sighed.

“But it can’t hurt to try.” Asher smiled. “Sleep well, Bethany.”

I crept into the edge of the firelight, where the shadows were thicker and laid the blanket on the forest floor.

“Don’t freeze to death.” I said quietly to the darkness. “Sleep well, Faelan.”

I returned to my bedroll and, wearing everything I’d come into the world, huddled down between the roll on the ground and the blanket sewn over the top, creating a cocoon. I gazed at the fire, hearing the young hunters talk quietly amongst themselves and wondered if I could undo the mess I’d made in the morning.