Tuesday’s Short—A Legacy of Elves

This week’s short story takes us from a far-flung future of VR battle arenas, to a post-apocalyptic Earth, where magic has returned and elves and trolls are real. Welcome to A Legacy of Elves.

We had to find refuge from the trolls before sunset, but a chapel in the woods? With hot, running water? It had to be a trap—even if the pixies and the unicorns didn’t think so. But the pixies needed help, so we stuck around—and now we have to deal with the trolls…A Legacy of Elves

The glade had been over-paved with concrete, its trees long ago destroyed. The well-spring giving the surrounding forest life lay buried deep underground, feeding fresh water into a long-abandoned sewer system. In its place, stood the arching ceiling of a small chapel, whose whitewashed walls bore faded images of everything the glade used to be.The Honey Badgers knew nothing of this. We only knew we had found a safe place to camp for the night, a place the trolls wouldn’t come. We had arranged the chapel proper into compartments, divided by lines of gear. Each Honey Badger had their own space because, contrary to that old saying, Honey Badgers do care.We’d been forced to abandon the centre of the city when the scrapers started to collapse, making the overgrown canyons between them even more dangerous than before, but we hadn’t gone far, because the city was all we knew— the only place we had any idea of how to be safeForty years ago, magic had met plague and natural disaster in a maelstrom of havoc. Science had been treasured and abandoned in equal parts. Of those who hadn’t been able to flee the natural disasters devastating human civilisation, some had actually survived. Of those who had grown up in the world that was, some had reached old age, protected by those they had protected through the Maelstrom and its aftermath. Now, they raised their children in the ruins, and contemplated what to do next.Like them, we knew of the Otherlands, knew of the Dwellers-in-the-Stars, and we knew our world had been left to lie fallow, too unstable for any to colonise, but still too populated for any to claim. ‘Honey Badgers’ was the name chosen by the oldest of us in his Harley-riding days, because Honey Badgers just don’t care. Those of us he rescued called him Papa Bear. If he’d had any other name, it was lost with his Harley, and the world he knew.When we found the chapel, on the fringes of the skyscrapers, Papa Bear had been cautious.“Make sure it’s not about to collapse,” he said.I nodded and scouted on ahead to check. Far as I could tell, the building was as sound as any other— and with thicker walls, high narrow windows and lockable doors. In the end, it had been the doors that made Papa Bear decide in favour of calling an end to the day.“Lockable, huh?” Papa Bear said, just after the first roar reverberated through the concrete canyons and rebellious trees. “Better get our asses inside, then.”Asses… it was just the way Papa Bear talked.Jonas looked down at the children and nodded.“Hurry up,” he’d said, and they scurried off to join Yolanda, Jonas’s partner and the woman they’d chosen as mother. It was a relief for me to still be able to walk where I wanted without needing to confirm the pitter-patter of little feet behind me, but there were days I wondered.By the time I got in there, after making a second walk around, Yolanda had found a broom, its strong, plastic bristles still in good enough condition to help her move the leaves that had built up inside.“But I like ’em underfoot,” Carlita had wailed, and I saw Jonas frown.“We don’t know what’s underneath ’em.”As far as I was concerned, he made a good point. Country might be a bit colder than it used-to-was, but it was still home to a host of poisonous bities that had only gotten worse since the magic came.“Yeah, we do,” our littlest rescue argued, and I remembered she had ‘the gift’, or ‘a gift’, or somesuch. We never could define it. We just knew it worked.“Over there youse gots a mouse nest, and they need the leaves.” She pointed. “And over there youse gots a wolf spider, but she’s leaving, now, case she gets stepped on, and in that corner is a ’kidna who jus’ wantsta be left alone.”“And what about the rest?”“Ants and beetles and leaf roaches and…” her little brow furrowed. “Oh. Wait a minute. Papa Bear?”“Yes, sweetie?”“The pixie wants to stay.”Papa Bear’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline.“Well, he was here first. It’s his house. Does he mind if we come in?”The frown stayed on Carlita’s face, and then cleared.“He says it’s okay, but youse gotsta clean up after the unicorns.”Unicorns, huh? I suddenly had a sinking feeling, but the idea didn’t seem to faze our Papa Bear one bit.“You tell him, he has a deal.”Carlita smiled, the tiniest of smiles, and the pixie was suddenly the best thing I had heard of in the last two years. Anything that could make that little girl smile had earned its place.We’d rescued her from a tree, after killing the plaguers who’d been trying to eat her. Not one of us had been able to claim dry eyes, when that little girl had laid a flower on one of the plaguer’s chests, before Papa Bear had lit the pyre.“’Bye mama.”’Bye mama. I knew Jonas would have given a lot to have never heard those words, but he’d been glad to take the little girl into his arms and carry her to Yolanda. And I’d been glad to let him. He wasn’t the only one for whom those words bit deep.“She’s ours now.”“If she’s got no sign of plague when the rest of them are so far gone, she’s safe,” Papa Bear had declared, and Carlita had become the littlest Honey Badger.“’Cos she don’t care about runnin’ away when she hasta,” Papa Bear had said.“Well, you can have the leaves in your space,” Yolanda told the little girl, and I felt the memory fade as she started sweeping up the rest.Carlita, of course, chose to sleep closest to the pixie. The rest of us Honey Badgers marked out our spaces, some helping Yolanda sweep the leaves into a pile against the wall where the mouse and echidna had taken shelter. We wheeled the bikes inside, and weren’t entirely surprised when three unicorns materialised from the trees, and followed.The biggest ’corn surveyed us, and then stomped right up to Papa Bear. It pushed its nose against his forehead, and then snuffed him from top to toe, much to everyone’s amusement. When it was done, it turned its head towards where Carlita said the pixie was, and snorted, but the pixie stayed as invisible as before. With another snort, the unicorn joined it and Carlita in the corner. The other unicorns made themselves comfortable around the room.Jonas would have protested when one lay down between Rosalie and Oscar, but Yolanda laid a hand on his arm. I was glad she did. Those two needed a friend. Winding an arm around his partner’s waist, Jonas accepted the unicorn’s choice. At least the children would have another protector.Outside, the bridge troll roared again, and we all heard the distinctive rustling skitter made by the small-and-furries that acted as harbingers for its arrival. I followed Jonas as he closed the chapel doors, then went out into the kitchen to see what other exits needed blocking. I waited for the usual sense of urgency to fall, and was surprised when it didn’t.I watched his back as he bolted the door in what appeared to be a laundry, and then we checked to see if the small lavatory next to the shower stall worked. When one flushed and the other produced clear, if cold water, I pushed down a faint sense of unease. Nothing could be this good.The pantry beside the kitchen was empty of anything, except more leaves and dust. I thought back to the country we had crossed to reach the chapel, and could see, from the look on his face, that Jonas was doing the same. We had come out of one skyscraper canyon, and journeyed through several blocks consisting of rubble hillocks that had once been double-story inner-city flats. A clowder of cats had watched us pass, some appearing out of the mounds to stare.I, for one, hadn’t been able to relax until we’d crossed into a large single-storied span of interconnected caverns. It had been a mall, and we passed down the main hall bisecting it. We’d all been surprised by the forested space facing us on the other side. The chapel’s white dome had been a beacon through the trees, particularly with the rail bridge sitting on the horizon.Another roar shook the evening, and I heard the whistling flight of startled pigeons. I was glad the Honey Badgers had found the chapel, relieved we had such heavy wooden doors with which to block the night. And the mall might still have something whose use-by date was meaningless.“What are we eatin’, tonight?” Papa Bear asked, when we re-emerged.I let Jonas answer; I wasn’t known for saying much, anyway.“Rations.”“We secure?”“Yup—and we got water.”“We do?”“And ablutions.”“Cold?”“Yup.”“Well, can’t have everything, I guess.”We settled in, dusk fading into full night as the trolls skittered and stomped and snuffled around outside. Papa Bear slept in, snoring his way past the grey light of dawn and waking to the reflected gold of sunrise. I felt surprisingly calm, lying in my sleeping bag and watching the ceiling turn from grey through to a honey-coloured white.Usually Papa would have cursed a blue streak, but instead he nudged Jonas with the toe of his boot, watching him leap to his feet, and look around in alarm. When Jonas registered the calm surrounding him, he watched as Papa sat down in a shaft of sunlight and gave an almost contented sigh.“What do you say, boy? Should we stay another night?”Had to say, there were times when I wished Papa Bear would ask me, but I’d taught him well, and he always looked to Jonas first. Made me smile.“Well, we’re out of the high-rise zone,” Jonas said. “Another night probably won’t hurt. We could forage.”Leaves rustled in the corner closest the door.“The pixie says we could stay longer, if we liked,” Carlita piped, her voice light and clear in the chapel, then she added, “I’d like to stay forever.”One of the unicorns shifted its feet, and walked over to the door. It nudged the latch, and then farted loudly.“Hold up,” Oscar said, hurrying to his feet. He pushed past it and cautiously opened the door.I saw my own amazement reflected on Jonas’s face, as the boy laid a hand on the unicorn’s muzzle and peered outside. This was the first time in weeks Oscar had shown consideration for anything, and we’d all been waiting for some sort of breakthrough. If the unicorns could make him care, then maybe staying was a good idea.I watched what he did, and saw that he only let the unicorn leave when he was sure it was clear. The other unicorns followed swiftly, and Carlita breathed a sigh of relief.“That was close,” she said. “Youse nearly hadsta scrub the floors.”“Well, we havta go find food,” Papa Bear said. “Does your pixie have any suggestions?”“He’s not my pixie,” Carlita said. “He’s his own pixie. He just likes me.”“Okay, but can he help us find food?”Carlita looked at the corner where she usually looked when asking the pixie questions. She stared at it for a long time, and then she turned back to Papa Bear.“He says only if you help him, first.”From the upwards dance of Papa Bear’s eyebrows, that was unexpected. Apparently the pixie wasn’t one to miss an opportunity.“He says this is a good place to stay, a safe place. We could live here forever.” She looked around at the white-washed walls with their murals of trees and a small spring at one end.“I’d like to live here, forever,” she said, her voice wistful.Jonas looked at Papa Bear, not quite hiding how much he liked the idea of staying, and I knew the same look was on my face when Papa checked in my direction. Just ’cos he doesn’t ask me much doesn’t mean he doesn’t tryand get my opinion.We all knew we needed to stop for a while. We’d been moving for months. We all knew we’d have to stop soon if we were to make a future. And this had been the most promising place we’d seen so far.Papa Bear knew when he was beat, but he glared at Carlita and said, “Your pixie friend had better come on out and speak his own mind. I’d like to deal direct.”She nodded, a look of relief crossing her face as she went to stand beside Yolanda, hugging her foster-mum’s leg for comfort. The pixie appeared, right on cue, not in the corner where Carlita had been looking, but on the backpack standing beside Papa Bear’s bed.Jonas couldn’t help it. He stared. For one thing, the pixie was bigger than we expected, almost a whole foot tall. And, for another, he was dressed in some kind of chain mail, over leather breeches and calf-high boots.“Smugglers took my clan,” he said.“Thought you said this place was safe.”The pixie gestured around the chapel.“This place is safe, but we were staying in the mall. Seems some humans have developed a taste for our dust… again.”“This has happened before?”“Many times before,” the pixie said, “and not just with humans. Almost any sentient race can develop a taste for it.”“You mean, like, a taste, as in eatin’ it?”“As in.”Papa Bear took a deep breath.“Okay, so how many of them are there? Where are they? And how badly are your folks hurt?”“Five. Blue house near the railway bridge. I don’t know. And, in case you need to know, there are thirty of my folk, old and young alike.”“Do you have a layout of the house? And when’s the best time to hit ’em?”“I can draw you a map, and the best time to hit ’em is at night.”“When the trolls are out.”“Yeah, the trolls…” The pixie thought about that for a moment, and then smiled. “Well, you’d have to get rid of them anyway, if you made this place permanent.”“Is it worth it?”“What?”“This place?”“Silver moons and fairy stars, of course it is.”“Why?”“You seen any better on your travels?”Papa Bear studied the pixie, and the pixie stared back, but its face was closed so far as I could see. There was something, but the pixie wasn’t about to reveal it. Papa Bear continued to stare until the pixie wriggled uncomfortably.“So… you in?”We all waited. I think even Oscar, for all his tough stand-offishness, held his breath. Papa Bear looked around the chapel, made a show of breathing in the woodsy air, caught Jonas’s eye.“Running water, eh?”“Clean running water.”“Hmmm.”It was a big plus and we all knew it. We’d been playing chicken with water sources for a while. Clean water was nothing to be sneezed at, and for it to be running to boot, well… Papa Bear leant forward, resting his forearms on his knees.“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You want us to take out a nest of drug runners and a tunnel of trolls.”The pixie stared at him.“Get me back my people,” he said, “and you can take your time with the trolls.”“If we survive ’em in the first place.”The pixie shrugged, and met Papa Bear’s gaze without flinching. I glanced up at the windows and noted full day had come.“Why don’t we see if the mall gives us a ghost,” I said, and everyone stopped moving.Papa Bear was the first to break the staring contest. His jaw dropped open and he stared at me.“So you can speak.”I shrugged and gestured at the inside of the chapel. Now that he was looking at me, it was hard to find the right words. Papa Bear laughed.“Lost your voice again, huh?’I nodded, looking down at my feet, and then I stood up and walked out the front door and into the day. Didn’t take long for Jonas to catch up with me. To my surprise, Oscar came hot on his heels. They fell in step beside me, Jonas handing me the rucksack I usually carried when I went foraging.“Any idea which end of the mall you wantta hit first?” he asked.I showed him, and, yes, I used my words. They weren’t many, but they did the job. The mesh fence covered with tattered shadecloth had, indeed, meant there was a hardware store and garden, just as the bit that looked like a grocery store meant there was a bottle shop right next door. We found what we needed, and then some—and not just for the raid.We found seeds that might still be viable, plants that had gone wild, self-perpetuating as they spread through split bags of potting mix and fertiliser, books on herbs, on preserves, on everything we needed. Most were pulp, but some had been wrapped in plastic and promised information. I left them with reluctance, leading Jonas and Oscar to where we could find twine, and the remnants of cloth inside sealed bales and roles. Glass bottles and batteries, that looked as though they’d survived the years, completed the list.Much of the stocks of alcohol in the front of the store had been looted, but there was a storeroom that had remained stubbornly locked. It was a pity that its walls were no longer as strong as its door, and fortunate that I was obviously the first to think of it. A couple of axes from the hardware store had us unstacking the shelves from the outside.I was smiling as I found the good stuff, high alcohol content, perfect for what I had in mind. I never had told Papa Bear what I’d learned growing up. From the look on Jonas’ face, he was starting to wonder. Oscar, on the other hand, was enchanted.“Cool,” he said, his voice barely above a breath.“You’re serious?” Jonas said, when I explained.I drew a map, pointing out the bridge supports and their proximity to the blue house.“Bound to be a distillery in there,” I said, tapping on the house. “Should blow just fine. And trolls don’t do so well with fire.”I was mimicking Papa Bear’s phrasing, but that was okay. I didn’t want to talk the way I’d learned growing up. There were memories attached to that, which I just didn’t want to stir. They were stirring enough, as I showed Jonas and Oscar how to make the Molotov’s, and then explained how we were going to use the gas bottles we’d found.Those trolls didn’t stand a chance, and when the drug runners came out to see what was going on, they wouldn’t stand a chance, either. There was only one flaw in my plan— reality.I let Jonas lay out the plans, confirming what I’d said. Papa Bear wasn’t too happy when we brought back the Molotov’s we’d made.“That’s a waste of good whisky,” he exclaimed, but I could tell from the shadows in his eyes that I was going to have some questions to answer afterwards.“Why don’t we do a bit of recon?” he suggested. “We can cart this lot closer, get an idea of what we’re facing.”I hadn’t been entirely surprised when he’d pointed a finger at me.“You can go scope out the troll lair, work out exactly where you want those gas canisters put.”I shrugged and agreed, peeling out of there so I could get to the bridge lair well ahead of the rest. The pixie was helping Papa Bear stow the Molotov’s in modified saddle bags for the unicorns. It would keep them busy for a while. Rosalie and Yolanda were busy fashioning torches out of twigs, twine and alcohol-soaked rags.I hadn’t counted on Oscar coming along for the ride.“Papa Bear know you’re here?”“Boy, you sure can talk when you want to,” he retorted, and then, “Not exactly.”“You gonna tell him?”“When we get back.”And that had been the end of that. I didn’t have the time, or the inclination, to argue with him, and he wasn’t going to be dissuaded.We snuck up past the blue house, in the gully between the embankment leading up to the railbed, and the house. There was a narrow valley, lined with wild grasses and scrub. Animals had worn a narrow path along the lowest point, and we left no trail.I taught Oscar to be aware of his profile, to make sure no part of him stuck up where it was going to bring trouble. I showed him how to hold the bushes back, rather than just push through them, and then to release them gently when he’d passed. That way we left almost no sign. There wasn’t much we could do about the grass, but it sprang back up leaving minimal trace.I counted three ways into the back of the blue house, and saw no guards at any of them. We took the third, Oscar going pale as I carefully opened the door.The stench inside was atrocious, worse than that of any lab I’d ever had the misfortune of visiting— and those had been more than I cared to say. Papa Bear had rescued me from the ruins of the last one I’d blown six ways to Hell, even though he hadn’t know I’d been the one to blow it.And I had never sought to enlighten him. Today, though, I’d watched him remember when he’d found me, and where, and I’d seen him look at the Molotov’s and listen to Jonas laying out my plans, and I’d seen him connecting the dots. I was not looking forward to having to explain, but I would. I didn’t think he’d hold it against me.What we found in the blue house was worse than any mess I’dever left behind. It looked like the trolls had found the dust runners, at least three nights ago. I wondered why the pixie hadn’t known that, and then decided he hadn’t had time to check, hadn’t known how, or hadn’t dared. He’d been in the chapel, when we arrived, but I had the sense he’d been waiting for something. I made a note to ask Carlita when we got back.Either way, we weren’t going to need to take out the dustrunners. The trolls had already done that for us. I wrinkled my nose at the mess, and picked my way through spilled chemicals and entrails to the front door. I met Papa Bear and the pixie on their way in.“They’re dead,” I said, and earned myself another look of surprise.“Girl, you’re gettin’ right chatty,” Papa Bear said, and I glowered at him.“That just leaves the trolls.”“They sleep during the day.”“I know,” I said, and picked up a pile of muck from the floor.They screwed their faces up in disgust as I rubbed it over my clothes and hair. To be honest, I’m not sure how I managed not to throw up, except I knew I was going into a troll lair and, whether they slept or not, the stench was going to keep me alive.“Stay here,” I said, pulling a pair of night-vision goggles out of the bag. “No. Get the stuff. We can have it close by.”I didn’t need to say which stuff they had to get, but the smugglers had given us the perfect staging point, and it would be a crying shame to waste it. Papa Bear turned to Oscar.“Wait here,” he said. “Don’t follow her, unless she screams.”I smirked as Oscar nodded, jerking his head up and down several times, more because he knew it was the right thing to do than because he was going to be any use if I needed him. I left him, peering nervously out of what had once been the lounge-room window.The trolls’ lair was everything I’d feared, and worse. I found the pixies, still in the cages into which the dustrunners had stuffed them. There were empty cages, too, and I’d weep later for the pixies’ loss.I also noticed the bodies of several elves lying haphazardly in one corner, and swallowed bile. When one of the bodies moved, I knew I was going to need to do something spectacular to get as many of them out alive as I could.Forcing my mind away from the prisoners, away from the tiny hands clutching the bars of their cages and the hopeful eyes watching me in the dark, I counted the trolls. There were seven. Three of the large bridge-trolls, and four lesser hunters. Innumerable fuzzy lumps dotted the cavern, and I stared. I was going to have to come up with something extra spectacular if we were to survive.And, as what to do came to mind, I realised I was going to need to lure the trolls away from their cave long enough to get the propane cylinders inside. And we were going to have to set them off around dawn— after we had managed to get all the prisoners out, and close enough to sanctuary that the trolls could not follow without risking the sun. Yeah, that should do it.Having made up my mind, I picked up four of the cages, two to each hand, and I turned to head down the tunnel. As I went, I made sure to kick the bottom of the stack, and then I started to run. Behind me the cages came tumbling down, and the trolls woke with a start.I could hear them sniffing the air, puzzled by the expected odour of carrion, and I realised I’d worked my disguise just a little too well. There was only one more thing to do, one thing guaranteed to really piss them off.I started to sing Amazing Grace, and behind me, I heard a roar.Oh, shit.“How sweet the sound,” I sang, and it didn’t matter that my voice was a little off key.I thought I could hear them at my heels when I hit the tunnel entrance, and fled into the full light of day. I felt the sun’s warmth, but I kept running, the cages banging awkwardly at my legs. Behind me, several furry shapes hurtled out of the bridge’s shadow before they realised it was still light. I was never so happy, as when Oscar came running down the front stairs of the blue house and took the cages from one hand.To my disappointment none of the bigger trolls followed me into the sun, but they stood in the deep shadows of their entrance tunnel and roared their promise of vengeance. Papa Bear arrived in time to hear them. He let go his wheelbarrow and took the cages from my other hand.“I take it you have an explanation for this?” he asked, undoing the cage doors and helping the pixies out.“Change of plan,” I said, and watched his face pale as I explained.“You can do this?”“I can try.”“You’ve done something like this before?”I blushed, and shook my head.“Not with trolls.”He bent down to look into my face.“I just bet you haven’t. What have you in mind?”I explained, my words halting and clumsy as I brought them into the light, and even Papa Bear looked worried.“You are goat-sucking crazy!” he said, and I had to agree.The pixies were beside themselves with glee. That alone should have been enough to give me second thoughts.“I need a shower,” I said, but the pixie refused to let me go back to the grove.“But…”There is water here,” it said, and I discovered the other reason the dust runners had chosen the house. Water. And solar heating. I made a note of that. Somehow, I would work out how to install something similar at the chapel. There was no sense in planning to move this installation. We had no time; it was going to go up in flames with the dawn.We had the gas bottles set up at the base of the bridge, and more bottles loaded into wheelbarrows ready for taking down the tunnel. A barrowful of Molotov’s, and a long fuse made of alcohol-soaked cloth, twisted into a clumsy rope, also stood by. I knew the trolls would follow the scent of humans back to the chapel, but we laid a few different trails to keep them busy—trails that wouldn’t end well.Papa Bear watched me supervise the set up, and his brow furrowed, but I still couldn’t tell if he was angry or bemused. He didn’t seem to have a problem with letting any of the other Honey Badgers work alone with me. I took that as a good sign—or as a sign he didn’t think I’d live to be a problem beyond the dawn. Either one was feasible.When the trolls emerged, they would follow my scent through all the places the pixie had insisted I go before letting me have a shower. That would bring them back to the blue house and the first set of explosives. If we’d timed it right, they would find the next trail and head over the other side of the railway tracks. On their return, they’d pick up the scent of us leaving their lair with their larder.When dusk came, the plan worked like a charm. The trolls followed my scent, and we used the sound of our various traps being set off to track their progress. We’d positioned the cylinders, Molotov’s, and fuses, both in the lair and under the bridge supports, and the last of the pixie cages were removed successfully shortly after the trolls started to hunt.The unicorns hadn’t been happy about being used as pack mules for the second time that day, but they were much more cooperative when we loaded the first pixie cages onto their backs. As soon as the last cage was on board, I had Papa Bear get them moving.“I’ll check the elves,” I said.“They’re not nice folk,” Papa Bear told me. “They’re not the ones who used to live in the forests in fairytales, you know. They’re the ones from under the hills.”“We still can’t blow them up.”“Have it your way,” he said, and we both lifted our heads to listen to the warning that said the trolls had almost reached the end of our trail. “Better hurry.”With that, he got the unicorns moving, hustling the pixies into the night, towards where he would have the time to free them. I returned back down the tunnel. As it was I found only one elf still alive. The remains of the others were hanging off shards of wood, their bodies singed and charred. Apparently trolls do cook their food. I threw up, and then heard someone weeping softly in the dark— an elf, half-buried under empty pixie cages and carrion.“They saved me,” he whispered. “I would have died, but they saved me.”I caught sight of the circlet on his brow.“You a prince?”“Does it matter? They should not have died… should not…”“Then don’t make their sacrifice in vain,” I said. “Come with me.”“You know a safe place?”I dragged him to his feet.“Only if we go, now. They are coming.”“Coming?”“Hurry,” I said, then opened the cylinders.He came, but too slowly, so I went back and slung his arm over my shoulder, half-supporting, half-dragging him down the corridor. When we were halfway along, I lit the fuse, and I prayed it would be enough. Any minute now, I would hear the last explosion, and it would be too late. I had to be well on my way to the chapel before the trolls got to the blue house.We hurried. The further we went, the slower the elf moved, until we were barely making a walking pace. Still, I persisted. The first real sign of trouble came when we had passed through the mall and the grove opened up before us. Papa Bear and his unicorn team, were just disappearing into the trees.The elf stopped, throwing his weight against mine to halt our forward motion. “Stop!” the elf said, his voice croaking weakly in my ear. “Stop. I can’t…”“Can’t what?”“I can’t enter without an invitation.”“But we’re not even at the chapel.”“The forest… It’s the forest.”“The forest is someone’s home?”“Yes. I cannot enter unless they invite me.”“Hey!” I called. “Hey, pixies!”This made even Papa Bear look back, and the pixie who’d given us permission to stay in the chapel turned, too.“Gotta problem.”I saw realisation dawn on the pixie’s face. He tapped Papa Bear on the shoulder.“Get them into the chapel,” he ordered, indicating the ’corns and the cages. “I can deal with this.”“She won’t leave him.”Dang. Papa Bear knew me far too well.He looked worried, but he did as he was told, which was a first for him. I guess he figured he could get back out here and lend a hand once the rest of them were safely tucked away. I waved and he went all the quicker.Oscar, however, gave the unicorn a pat, urging it to go on without him. And then he turned back to me. The pixie ignored him, walking over to where I’d stopped at the edge of the park. The look he turned to me was worried, but the look he gave the elf was definitely not friendly.“Which clan are you?”“Winter,” and I sensed no evasion in the elf’s reply.“From the Land-Under-the-Hill?”“Yes.” The elf wet his lips and looked back toward the bridge. “Please, help me.”“What do you want?” the pixie asked.I thought that was obvious, but there was something in the way the pixie asked that kept me silent. The little man had a purpose, and it was important. My fey lore was way off, but I swore, then and there, it wasn’t going to stay that way.The elf stayed silent, his gaze darting from me to the pixie. He seemed to be waiting for me to intervene, but, from the look on the pixie’s face, I knew I could not. There was too much at stake. The elf must have figured out which way I was thinking, because he gave this sort of sigh, and slumped against me.“I. seek. sanctuary,” he said.A loud whump sounded behind us. It was accompanied by the sound of outraged roars. The elf gave an uneasy glance over his shoulder. Whatever was at stake with the invitation was obviously not as worrying as his memories of the troll rotisserie.“I seek sanctuary,” he repeated. “I swear to bring no harm, enable no harm, and countenance no harm to the place or places, or to the peoples and creatures within the place or places, who grant it.”The pixie waited, arms folded. It stared at the elf and drummed his fingers on the biceps of the opposite arm. The elf caved.“What other conditions do you require?” Even I could hear the pleading in his voice.“That, in addition, you become a protector of the places of sanctuary, and the peoples therein, giving one consecutive year for every day of safety you are granted there.”“I so swear,” the elf said, but he agreed so fast that I wondered what the pixie had missed.The pixie was obviously worried, as well, but there was no more time to think on it. Sunlight shimmered on the horizon’s edge.“Then the peoples of this grove grant you sanctuary,” he said, and the elf allowed me to half-drag, half-carry him across the street and into the trees.We had barely gone three paces before one of the unicorns materialised out of the grey-lit forest shadows. It nudged its head under the elf’s other arm, helping us move through the trees more swiftly.A second whump followed the first, and I thought I heard the skitter of claws. I tried to go even faster, but could not, so had to rely on Papa Bear and Jonas as they went past us, each carrying one of the swords they had taken from the trolls’ lair, when they were collecting the pixie cages.The elf looked grieved to see the blades being wielded by humans, but he was in too much pain to care. Jonas and Papa Bear took out the first half dozen small-and-furries just as we reached the chapel stairs, and we were all inside and barring the doors shortly thereafter.Yolanda was ahead of us in what the elf might need, and she had laid out a pallet. We got him cleaned up and onto it, while Jonas and Oscar locked the doors and secured the chapel for the rest of the night.All of us waited for the blast that would tell us that the pixie’s revenge was complete. When it came, the windows rattled, but they did not shatter. The trees and intervening buildings protected them from the blast.We listened as the trolls howled with dismay, knowing they would try to reach the bridge, and knowing the way was blocked. Shortly thereafter, we watched the ceiling turn golden, and listened as the trolls screamed and died. Papa Bear looked over at the pixie.“I don’t suppose there’s any rules we oughtta know about stayin’ in a pixie grove, is there?” he asked.The pixie returned his gaze, and then looked over the rest of us. He looked far too pleased with himself.“We will arrange teachers,” he said, “but for now you should rest. The afternoon will be time enough.We breathed a sigh of relief, as he turned towards the nest of leaves and blankets Carlita had prepared for him and his folk, but then he stopped.“And you should know that this is not a pixie grove.”I heard Papa Bear give the sort of groan that meant he’d guessed there was a catch, and we all waited for the pixie to explain.“It’s the birthplace of an elven homeland, and they will walk among us soon.”I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
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A Legacy of Elves is available as a stand-alone short story at the following links: https://www.books2read.com/u/brzGZb



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