The sun rises over the despondent Alternaverse elves at Two Moons beach. “We all knew Littlefire had to go eventually,” Weatherbird tells the cameras. “We knew it. He wasn’t going to last all the way to Final Four. Really... when you think about it, he was so lucky to make it this far. It’s not losing him that hurts. It’s that... Coppersky left us.”

Meanwhile, Coppersky has troubles of his own. The camera catch him brooding on the beach. “It was one thing to vote out Spar. No one likes her anyway. Hell, I got brownie points with Savin for it. But turning on Littlefire – they’ll never forgive me. They think with their heart, that crew. So my only choice now is to stick to the Warp elves. And they’re all parasites.”

Savin is calm and resolved as she scavenges the beach for kindling. “Actually... the more I think about it, the more we needed to see what happened last night,” she says. “I’ll admit I’ve been coasting in this game – strategy wise. I’ve been in a strong position for thirty days. Never once have I gone to tribal council thinking it could be me who goes home. The more I think about it... I think I’m one of the only ones in this game who can say that. And I’ve gotten lazy. I’ve taken things for granted. But now we’ve all got the fear of God thrown into us. And it’s a good thing. Because now we can be more focused.”

Cheipar: We need a new fourth. We need Crescent.

Savin: Crescent is the key. Right now, we’re trailing three to five, alliance wise. If we can get her over, we’ll stand a chance against Coppersky and Strongbow.

But Savin is only half-right. When they arrive on the designated beach, they find eight swings suspended out over the water, held up by an elaborate pulley system. Upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that each swing is supported by five separate hemp ropes. Winnowill welcomes them in and explains the rules of the game. It is indeed a trivia challenge. Contestants will sit in the swings over the water and answer the questions verbally. For every wrong answer, a contestant will have one of their five ropes cut. When the elf has given five wrong answers, he or she is unceremoniously dropped into the water and is out of the reward challenge. The winner will receive a helicopter tour of the island, plus lunch at a scenic resort that promises an extra surprise.

Strongbow: (suspicious) **What’s in the water? Crocodiles? Sharks? (increasingly nervous) Shapechanged? Jellyfish? (high-pitched) It’s jellyfish isn’t it? High Ones, she’s laced the water with box jellies!**

Winnowill: Nonsense, Strongbow. I do believe you’re experiencing paranoid delusions. Now take your places. We’ll cut to some dramatic overhead footage to avoid having to explain to the audience how you can levitate into those seats five feet above the high tide lines.

The Warp elves, who had to camp out in a strangleweed patch at their first campsite, answer False. Savin and Cheipar also answers False. Coppersky and Weatherbird answer True and both lose a rope. Their seats drop lower, and swing precariously over the water. “Next question: The human inhabitants of Beacon first crossed the waters from Hearthstone – a) 5,000 years ago b) 4,000 years ago c) 400 years ago, or d) last week, when a continuity error in the ElfQuest timeline was discovered and hastily corrected.”

Everyone picks D. They are all wrong, and everyone loses a rope. Coppersky and Weatherbird are only three wrong answers away from being eliminated. Strongbow looks down and sees a stingray swimming lazily beneath him. **I knew it! I knew it!**

Winnowill: Quiet, you. Next question. A traditional hunter-gatherer youth was considered a man once he a) killed a boar b) survived a week alone in the forest c) performed the traditional “Fan Dance” while under the influence of the poison dart frog’s venom, or d) all of the above.

The questions continue. What did the former inhabitants of the islands call elves? How many ways could the noxious and aptly named rank-root be prepared? Why was cannibalism practiced only during the fall sweeps? Just how were the former inhabitants wiped out by Winnowill and her friends in the network? Weatherbird manages to hang in the game by one rope. Strongbow answers several incorrectly and is dunked in the water. So to is Crescent. Coppersky lasts for several questions, then forgets just what one does with a drunken sailor, and is dumped into the sea. Tyleet goes one question later. Savin, Nightfall, Cheipar and Weatherbird remain.

“What is another name for the yellow-star flower?” Winnowill asks. “Is it a) Plumeria, b) Hibiscus or c) an invented flower that bares a striking resemblance to a plumeria crossed with a hibiscus?”

Cheipar and Weatherbird hesitate. They opt for the long-winded C. Savin chooses A, and Nightfall chooses B. Savin is correct. Weatherbird is dunked, as is Nightfall. Cheipar and Savin remain, Cheipar with one chance left, and Savin with two.

Savin answers incorrectly on the next question, and she and Cheipar are tied with only one chance remaining. Both correctly guess that the bladder-fruit holds three cups of water, and that the hurricane season ends exactly three weeks before the black fly season starts. But then Savin fails to correctly answer how long it takes to get over blood poisoning from the bite of the common pus-beetle.

“I’m sorry, Savin, but I’m afraid it really is five decades, not five weeks,” Winnowill says. She chops Savin’s last rope, and the pirate hits the water. With one lifeline left, Cheipar is declared the winner.

“You’ve got the gift, Cheipar,” Winnowill says. “Now, it would be pretty lonely on that tour all by yourself, so why don’t you pick one friend to accompany you?”

Cheipar: Crescent.

Winnowill: Ah... a little strategy at work there. How cunningly transparent. (flicks walkie-talkie) Bring it in, boys!

**We have to do something about Cheipar,** Strongbow sends to Nightfall as they slink back to camp.

Cheipar and Crescent enjoy their flight over the treetops. The chopper takes them over mangrove swamps, past scenic rock formations and under threatening storm clouds. “We’re... uh, we’re not going to do any Six Days Seven Nights scenario here, are we?” Crescent asks when the thunderheads loom dangerously close to the helicopter. Two-Edge only smiles and takes them out over the ocean and the many little barrier reefs.

Back at the Two Moons camp, Strongbow, Nightfall, Tyleet and Coppersky are sequestered in the trees. **Cheipar’s our biggest threat,** Strongbow sends. **He’s a strong opponent, he’s well liked, and he’s been winning challenge after challenge. If we don’t stop him, he’ll walk away with the prize.**

Coppersky shakes his head. “Cheipar keeps winning like this... we may not have our chance.”

**We’ll have to play harder than ever. This next immunity challenge is the decisive one. One of us has to take immunity from Cheipar. We cannot allow him to survive the next tribal council.**

Coppersky: He’s off with your daughter right now. He’ll be trying to tempt her over to their alliance.

Nightfall: What about you, Coppersky? Now that Littlefire is gone, you can go back to the Alternaverse and beg their forgiveness. You’ll have a new alliance and a guaranteed shot at Final Four.

But privately, Coppersky shares his worries with the film crew. “You know that feeling when you’re being stalked by a mountain lion? No? Well... it’s not good. And I’ve got that right now. I can’t trust ‘em. Not for a second. But there’s no way... can’t go back to Savin and the others now.” He sighs. “Damned if you do... damned if you don’t. High Ones... I’m going to come off as such a bitch on tape, I just know it.” He pauses, brow furrowed in thought. “I’m playing the game. I’m playing the game. The stakes have just been raised a little, that’s all. Everything’s still good. If Cheipar doesn’t win immunity, we’ll take him out at tribal council. If he does win it – which, let’s face it, he probably will – then Weatherbird or Savin goes. Take them out one by one. When we get to five... then it’s everyone for themselves. And then... then I’ve just gotta pray I’ll win immunities. I can do it. I can.”

Cheipar and Crescent watch in delight as the helicopter flies them past beautiful cliffs and hundred-foot high waterfalls. The chopper circles a lush forest, then settles down in a clearing next to a white country house. Cheipar and Crescent disembark and follow the sweet-faced human maiden up the steps inside the house. There they find a huge banquet hall, and a table laden with every kind of food. Cheipar is covertly trying to make his shirt into a bag to carry home extras to the tribe when a human in a smart business suit comes into the room. He bears a certain resemblance to Angrif Djun.

“Welcome, welcome. I hope you’re enjoying yourself here on the beautiful island. So, which one of you won the reward challenge? Ah, the silent hero. I salute you. I’ve worked with Winnowill many times in the past, and I know she doesn’t let prizes this go easy. You are both in for a treat, I guarantee it. Sit, sit. Eat. I’ll come back and check on you later.”

Crescent: What’s the catch?

Cheipar: (shrugs) Hm... good food, though.

A few moments later, the Angrif-doppelganger returns, this time with a troll bearing an easel and a large portfolio. “Good, good. The food agrees with you? Excellent. We have a wonderful chef here at Treetops Lodge. Five-star cuisine to match our five-star service. You’ll never want for anything here at Treetops. We’re already into stage-two of our construction of what promises to be a world-famous resort destination. And that’s what I want to talk to you about!” he says enthusiastically, pointing in Cheipar’s direction. The elf flinches.

Crescent: Oh... drukk...

Crescent begins to rise, but the Angrif-doppelganger silences her. “I know, I know. You’re thinking ‘I’m just an average hunter-gatherer. How can I afford a slice of paradise. Well, young lady, I’m here to tell you, you can’t afford not to! Because this is a once-in-a-life opportunity. I have been authorized to give you a one-time, no-interest low-low price quote – you will never have a chance like this again – a chance to invest in the future. Let me tell you, Beacon is hot, hot property. This time next year, everyone will be flocking to our shores. You have to understand – this isn’t just a property – this is a life style. A life style that’s been out of your reach, until now...”

Cheipar slowly goes cross-eyed as the human continues.

Back at Two Moons, Savin and Weatherbird bob in the water, watching the rainclouds slowly gathering off to sea. “What are we going to do about Coppersky?” Savin asks.

Weatherbird shrugs. “If we take him back... if he wants us back... we can make a foursome. But we need Coppersky. Or Crescent. Otherwise, we’ll get picked off one by one.”

“It’s amazing, you know,” Savin remarks to the cameras. “How quickly everything can change. A few days ago... I was the alpha female. Walking tall. Now... now I might be the one voted off in two days.”

Back at the time-share meeting, Crescent has fallen into a deep trance. Cheipar appears to be sleeping with his open. The salesman has run through several large portfolio sheets, showcasing floor plans, profit graphs, projected construction plans, and artists’ renditions of the planned Treetops Village, to be completed over another five years. The food is slowly growing cold on the table.

“So!” the salesman announces suddenly. “What will it take you to sign with us today?”
Crescent wakes up. Cheipar mumbles something incoherent.

“Uh... I already own property in the tropics,” Cheipar says. “I... I don’t want to change hemispheres.”

“Nonsense. Wouldn’t you or your lifemate love a change of pace? Let’s just take a look at your credit rating and–”

“My what?”

“You... don’t have a credit rating?”

“And I’m dead,” Crescent offers helpfully.

The salesman’s face falls flat. He grumbles something in the human tongue, and stalks out. Cheipar yawns. Crescent helps herself to some cold food.

Cheipar and Crescent return to Two Moons beach as the wind is beginning to pick up. Cheipar has a shirtful of food to pass around. Everyone helps themselves to the leftovers, and Strongbow even smiles in gratitude.

Crescent: Cheipar really impressed me today. We had a lot of time when he could have talked strategy, but he didn’t.

Strongbow:**I’m grateful to Cheipar. He has a good heart, and I appreciate his gift. But I will vote him out if I can.**

Crescent:**Father and Coppersky want to vote you out.**

Cheipar:**It’s a good strategy. I’m a threat, I know.**

Crescent: (smiling wryly) No false modesty, I see.

Cheipar:(shrugs) I’ve won a lot of challenges.

Coppersky leaves without offering a definitive answer. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” he mutters to himself. “I could do it. I could go back to my own elves. But Savin’s nursing a grudge. She might be playing me. I don’t know...”

The sun slowly breaks through the gray clouds in the afternoon, and the wind dies down. “Are you playing me?” Coppersky asks Weatherbird as they lie on their stomachs, sunning their backs.

Weatherbird shakes her head. “I don’t play like that.”

“Is Savin playing me? What about Cheipar? He and Crescent are getting closer. He’d probably rather have her in Final Four than me.”

“You have to trust us, Saen.”

Coppersky shakes his head. “This isn’t like a hunt in the old days, Weatherbird.”

**Are you playing him?** Weatherbird sends to Savin later that day. **Are we taking him to Final Four if he joins us?**

Savin shakes her head. “I don’t know... I don’t know yet.”

On Day 33, the tribe meets Winnowill for the immunity challenge. It’s a complex obstacle course over water. The contestants must run along a thin balance beam, climb a ladder, go hand-over-hand along a rope, shimmy down a pole, crawl over a net, then run along one last balance beam. Anyone who falls in the water must start over. They will run the course one at a time, and the fastest time wins. It seems easy enough, until Winnowill shows the elves what they’ll be wearing on their race.

“Genuine Crest Point sand – 20 pounds of it,” Winnowill explains, brandishing the large sandbags. The 60 pound elves all moan loudly. Winnowill’s helper trolls strap the bags to the elves’ backs. Savin falls over on her backside. Tyleet has to sit down. Cheipar and Strongbow bear their burden in silence. Weatherbird and Nightfall look miserable. Coppersky struggles to hold his balance. Crescent is scowling. “Mine feels funny,” she says.

“That’s ‘cause it’s filled with foul magic, dear,” Winnowill explains. “And you’re up first, hon.”

Crescent wades out to the starting point, grimacing at the foul tendrils of magic that swirl around her like so much technicolour mist. Winnowill brandishes a starter’s shotgun and unloads a round of buckshot into the air. The Warp elves cheer as Crescent races through the maze. She maintains her balance throughout, though she slows as the magic-gone-bad takes its toll on her. She finishes with a respectable 100 seconds.

Cheipar goes next. He races through the first segment, and ably climbs hand-over-hand across the rope. But his balance wavers on the last balance beam, and though he does not fall, he loses precious seconds, finishing with 89 seconds.

Savin falls off the first balance beam, but recovers quickly. She falls in again in the net, but she gets to her feet and soldiers on. Her finish time is 91 seconds – not enough to beat Cheipar.

The lightest of the elves, Weatherbird moves far too slowly as her sandbag weighs her down. She crosses the finish line in two minutes. Coppersky is next, tearing through the course with a dynamo’s blind determination. He is well on his way to beating Cheipar’s record when he slips on the pole and falls into the water. Rather than returning to the starting line, Coppersky simply wades back into shore. He knows he can’t win.

Nightfall’s balance and methodical coordination sees her through the course in a timely fashion. She ties Savin for second place at 91 seconds. Cheipar is still in the lead.

Tyleet falls on the hand-over-hand. She rushes back to the starting line and begins again. She reaches the rope and tries again. The brittle rope bites into her hands, and she winces in pain as she slowly crosses. “You’re officially in last place, Tyleet!” Winnowill announces.

“I don’t care,” Tyleet groans. “I’m going to finish this.”

And finish it she does, in three minutes. Weatherbird and Savin give her a friendly pat on the shoulder as she joins them on the beach. Nightfall helps Tyleet shed her sandbag, and mother and daughter sit down to watch the last elf run the course.

Strongbow is off, moving with great deliberation. His pace is brisk, but not hurried. His eyes are flinty with determination. The Alternaverse elves watch in growing horror as he advances steadily through the obstacle course. He does not waver on the balance beam. He does not hesitate on the ladder. His hands do not slip on the rope. He slides down the pole effortlessly and runs across the net. He walks confidently over the balance beam, and when he crosses the finish line, even the troll stagehands are watching Winnowill expectantly, waiting for the time to be called.

“87.5 seconds,” Winnowill announces. “Immunity – Strongbow!”

“You did good,” Savin tells Cheipar. Weatherbird gives him a kiss on the cheek. Strongbow proudly places the immunity necklace over his head and embraces his daughter. He goes over to shake Coppersky’s hand. **We take Cheipar tonight,** he locksends.

**We can take Nightfall instead,** Savin locksends to Coppersky on the way back to camp. **I need your answer, now.**

**I don’t know yet...**

**Now, Coppersky.**

**Then no,** Coppersky decides.

Savin: We’re screwed right now. We really are.

Cheipar can only shrug. Crescent is as much a closed book as he is. Savin and Cheipar lapse into the comfort of shared silence. Both know they have a good chance of being voted out. Weatherbird, meanwhile, bravely pretends nothing is amiss, and helps Tyleet and Crescent fetch kindling for the fire and water for the cooking pot.

But Crescent is wavering, and she tells Tyleet of her worries. “Voting out Cheipar is a bad idea,” she says. “We have more to worry about than him.”

“He is such a threat,” Tyleet shrugs. “He admitted it himself, didn’t he?”

“I’m more worried about Coppersky or Father myself. Cheipar... he doesn’t believe in lying to get ahead. Coppersky and Father have both proven they’re quite happy to if it will help them.”

“But you and your father have an alliance, Crescent. Just like Mother and me.”

“There’s only room for one winner, Tyleet. And I don’t think I can be big enough to let my father take it after everything he’s done to me.”

“He’s always looked out for you, Crescent. He’s taken care of you–”

“I’m not a child!” Crescent snaps abruptly, and floats away.

The tension at dinner is thick enough to cut with New Moon, and many other metaphors abound in the air. Finally the elves cannot delay any longer. Under the ominous gray clouds, they trudge to tribal council.

Winnowill welcomes them in. “Looks like the weather’s going to turn again,” she says. “Come on in, have a seat. I’ll bring in the first member of the jury.”

Littlefire sits down on the jury bench. He is wearing slightly less rumpled clothes than normal, and has appeared to have brushed his hair. He breaks out in a wide grin and greets Cheipar with a clumsy wave.

“No communicating with the players, Jury!” Winnowill snaps.

“I hate you,” Littlefire replies matter-of-fact. He pulls one knee up to his chest and begins to wind a lock of hair around his finger nervously.

“Well, we’re down to eight elves,” Winnowill says. “Even numbers are a bitch aren’t they? Crescent, think there’s the possibility for another nasty little tie here?”

Crescent: I think there’s always the possibility for anything, Winnowill.

Strongbow:**Unquestionably.**

Strongbow shrugs. **It’s not personal. In fact, I rather wish our Cheipar had lived – we could have traded Skot or Krim or him–”

Cheipar: Hey! Well... Krim. You can trade Krim.

Winnowill: And on that almost amiable note, it’s time to vote. Let’s get ready to rumble – Crescent, you’re up first.

“Once the votes have been read, the decision is final, blah, blah, blah,” Winnowill rolls her eyes. “First vote: Nightfall. Second vote: Cheipar. Nightfall. Cheipar. That’s two for Nightfall, two for Cheipar.”

Littlefire: We can all count you know. One and one make two times two make four which is half of eight and we’re halfway through. We can count!

Cheipar, Weatherbird and Savin close their eyes tightly. Coppersky and Strongbow lean forward expectantly.

“Nightfall...” Winnowill reads. “Well, I’ll be damned. Another tie.”

The Alt elves let out a sigh of relief. Strongbow and Coppersky are overcome with shock. “All right, it’s time for a re-vote,” Winnowill says. “We’ll go through this again. Nightfall: Ten words or less – why should your tribe keep you on? Go.”

Nightfall pauses, weighing her words. “I play fair,” she says deliberately. “I play hard. I take care of–”

Winnowill: And your ten words are up. I’ll just assume you meant to say ‘my friends.’ Cheipar, your turn. Ten words or less.

Cheipar: I refuse to play your manipulative games, Winnowill. So there.

Winnowill: (blinking) Ten words. Fair enough. All right. Back in the voting booth.

Cheipar shakes his head slowly. Winnowill nods grudgingly. “Li’l sh*t’s right. Nightfall?”

Nightfall hangs her head. She holds up four fingers. Winnowill is grinning. “And that’s enough. Nightfall, the tribe has spoken. It’s time for you to leave.”

Nightfall nimbly flips to her middle finger in her tribe’s direction, and gathers her things. Winnowill cannot keep the smile off her face as she snuffs out Nightfall’s torch. Nightfall pulls a sour face and walks off-camera.

“Seven elves remain,” Winnowill tells them. “From this point on, it’s anyone’s game. You can head back to camp now.”

The elves gather up their bags and return down the path they came. Crescent pointedly chooses to float next to Cheipar and Weatherbird instead of Strongbow and Coppersky.
 

NIGHTFALL’S LAST WORDS  Getting voted off... it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. What bothers me is who turned on me. It must have been Coppersky. I knew we couldn’t trust him. We should have all joined up to vote him off tonight. But I take comfort in knowing I’m going home because Savin and her cohort are intimidated by me. When you get this far in the game, it’s really flattering to be dropped in a cross-alliance conspiracy. Yes. That makes it better. Well... I guess I’ll be back next week for the Jury. I hope I have the honour of being able to vote for my little Tyleet as Sole Survivor. Keep fighting, honey. Mommy’s so proud of you.

 
 Back
On to Episode Twelve