The Way Forward
Part One
**Sohn… wake up.**
Spar stirred, wincing at the crink in her neck. She had been having such a nice dream: her four children were all cubs and agemates, a wild wolfpack running amok in her sandstone den. Well, not Klipspringer – he was always a gallant little boy, even in dreams. But he was helpless as the twins tussled and scrambled over furniture, while Meerkat pranced about in her mother’s stolen gowns, catching the trailing moth-fabric skirts on every obstacle.
**Wake up, my precious…**
“Mmph… Fenn...” She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, flinching from the morning light. **I wasn’t asleep.**
**Yes, you were. But it’s safe to wake now.**
Spar raised her head. They were still seated on the dais near Haken’s throne, in a nest of plump cushions. She must have dozed off sometime during the long vigil; her last memory was of the strains of an old folk-song, plucked out on Melati’s harp. Such beautiful music the healer played, yet it always sounded so sad…
The great starstone hall had been alight with candles then, many little flames reflected in the crystal walls, but now natural daylight beckoned at the doorway. Blankets and bundles of clothes still lay across the floor, but the elves had all dispersed. Spar struggled to sit upright.
**The Moment! The twins!** Her thoughts flew at once to Wren and Skylark, who had chosen to risk the long night with their families at Blue Mountain.
“Safe. Lord Haken has already made contact with the Circle. Brightmetal reports all is well at Blue Mountain. The Moment came and went without a tremor.”
“And Oasis?” When they’d sealed themselves inside the starstone shield, Spar had known there was a chance they would emerge to find their entire world gone.
But Door’s easy smile banished all her fears. “Shall we go and see?” he asked.
Her head came neatly to his shoulder as they walked outside, hand in hand. Door had always been short for a Glider; his millennia of service to Winnowill had arrested his growth when he was still only a youth, much like hardship under slavery had left Ekuar no taller than a Wolfrider, though he was only a few centuries removed from the High Ones themselves.
Spar saw Ekuar hard at work on the great doorway of Tallest Spire, adding delicate curlicues to the sandstone. Beyond him lay the plains and fields of Oasis, the familiar clay huts and hollowed-out spires. Even the silk banners hanging over the dancing grounds were just as she remembered.
It was safe. All of it.
“Shade and sweet water,” Ekuar remarked. “It’s a glorious morning, is it not?”
“Where is everyone?” Spar asked. She could see a few dozen elves moving between the huts, a few more milling on the dancing grounds. But those she could see numbered only a fraction of the population.
Ekuar smiled slyly. He understood who “everyone” meant in that moment. “Well… Klipspringer is making a round of the walls with Grayling and Fennec. And I think Meerkat has gone to inspect the fields. Haven’t a clue where Foxtail got off to, but the last I saw Maize, she had challenged Tufts to a race to the bathing pools and was holding a narrow lead. The others are all around… somewhere. Checking their houses, counting the animals.”
“And you’re already fussing,” Door teased, gesturing to the archway. “Why bother? We’ll have to reshape the whole Spire now that we have our starstone shell.”
“Mm-hm,” Ekuar hummed noncommitally. “My hut survived the night completely untouched. But today is all about new beginnings.”
“In other words, you had to shape something, and Jarrah ordered you out of the house when you tried to redecorate,” Spar giggled; she couldn’t help it. Giddy relief flooded her veins like dreamberry wine.
Ekuar flashed her a grin and wink.
Spar and Door walked on, following a path towards the zwoot dairy. Halfway there they encountered a dozing peacoo lying across the paving stones, quite unwilling to make way. They held hands as they walked around it, Door to the left and Spar to the right. The bird blinked at up then with an expression that seemed to drip with contempt.
“‘Crazy elves,’ he’s saying,” Spar laughed. “We’re a great disappointment to him, I can tell.”
“A bird who can’t fly is a disappointment!” Door threw at the peacoo in mock scorn.
“‘Can’t fly’ and ‘can’t fly well’ are two very separate things.”
“Not to a Glider,” Door said haughtily. Spar swatted his chest, and in a moment they were both laughing. The peacoo, unable to see the humor, tucked its head under its feathers and returned to its nap.
“This is a perfect morning,” Door declared, as he drew her close. His smile turned cynical. “How long do you think we have before the wolves arrive at our door and spoil it?”
“Ouch! Seeing as I was born a wolf, I might resent that.” But the twitch of her lips betrayed her. She had severed ties with her birth tribe long ago.
Door’s thoughts clearly ran the same way. “But you were never much of a wolf, even in your youth,” he teased. “More of a… near-wolf.”
Spar narrowed her eyes at him. A moment too late, Door considered his words.
“My apologies. That sounded much cleverer in my head.”
* * *
Chani found Melati in the underground storage of the starstone shell, inspecting her many cocoons. The red-haired elf flinched in surprise to see her adoptive mother. She looked almost guilty. Chani smiled and held up a large bag. “I packed you a few meals. If you want to slip away, now’s the time – before Cholla starts begging you to stay one supper at a time.”
Melati sighed with relief. “Thank you, Mother.”
“Don’t misunderstand,” Chani said as she handed over the sack. “I’m not in a rush to be rid of you. In truth I would love you to stay here for awhile. But I know you – once you have a bone between your teeth you’d rather die than drop it. Just like your father.”
Melati beamed at the comparison, and Chani could not help adding, “Out of our children, you’re the one who most takes after him.”
“Really? Even more than Winnowill?”
“Oh, Winnowill,” Chani gave a light wave. “She always took more after me. Too easily distracted, too easily frustrated. Too easily satisfied, I suppose, when you get cut to the heart of the matter. All elves like us ever want is safety and happiness within our own little sphere. Her and her mountain, I and my family. And the proper respect, of course. But you and Haken, you have much larger dreams.”
“I am so close to a breakthrough,” Melati confided with a girlish smile. “If we are to move to Homestead–”
Chani’s finger ghosted in front of her lips. Melati nodded, swallowing the next word. “But if we are, Mother, let it be once I have finished my work. There are dangers out there even our lord cannot forsee. I know he doesn’t believe in my dream–”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
Melati looked sheepish. “He always tries to disuade me when I speak of growing new shells. He keeps telling me it can’t be done.”
“Oh, child, I think he doesn’t want you get your hopes up. Especially when I think of who you mean to have the honor of testing out your first new shell.”
Melati’s face fell and her eyes widened. “Lady Mother… I…”
Chani tsked softly. “You think I’ve forgotten about him? I know you haven’t. We may never speak his name, but his memory is always with us. And how can we fault you for trying, when Haken moved the spirits themselves to bring me back to him. But it was not an easy thing, for him or for me. And if he seems to be… uncertain about your dream, it is only because he does not wish to see your heart break a second time. You drifted so far away from us after Yosha’s death. I do not wish to lose you again.”
“You won’t, Mother,” Mel insisted. “No matter where my body takes me, my spirit is always with you.”
“I should hope so,” Haken said lightly, as he stepped through the doorway. “For we would miss your spirit dearly, daughter.”
“That was quick!” Chani remarked. “Sunstream sets your head ringing like a bell to get you into the Circle, and the meeting is already over?”
“Recent developments dictated a tactical withdrawal.”
“She is coming, isn’t she?”
“To pin our ears back as if we were all her mongrel pups,” Haken growled. “But that’s not why I’ve sought you out. Melati, I take it you’re planning to return to the Cinder Pools.”
“Yes, lord. My work is at a… delicate stage. I have several projects gestating.”
“I’m sure. But I wonder if they might not hold while you take a short diversion. I have a task for you, my daughter – one might call it… a quest. One essential to our greater plans.”
Emboldened by praise, Melati did not hesitate. “What must I do?”
* * *
When the Daystar hung high over the New Land, it was already setting for Oasis. By the time the Palacepod arrived, Gliders and Sun Folk were in the midst of twilight revels. Tipsy dancers rushed over to the crystal pod, while the Red Snakes drew themselves tall and the elders on the dais watched anxiously.
“Perhaps we should–” Sun-Toucher began, but Chani was already striding towards the pod. When the shell peeled back and Timmain outside, her daughter was waiting to greet her.
“Mother!” she cried, her smile bright and brittle, her arms wide. “Welcome! Have you come to join our celebration?” Before Timmain could offer answer or accusation, Chani stepped up, laced her arm through Timmain’s, and began to march her towards Tallest Spire at a brisk pace.
“Not in front of the children,” Chani hissed when Timmain tried to protest.
Swift and Rayek stepped outside the pod. Lucky pushed her way out between them. She sniffed at the air, then whimpered and tucked her tail under her haunches. “Stay close or stay here,” Swift warned. “Stay!”
The near-wolf hesitated, then chose in favor of the pack. She heeled closely as they made their way across the flat. Elves came up offering greetings and cups of wine, but and Swift and Rayek gently dissuaded them for the moment.
At the doorway to Tallest Spire, Swift realized Weatherbird hadn’t kept pace with them. She was still at the pod, half-hidden by the unfolded wall, studying Haken in silence.
“Weatherbird? You coming?”
She flinched, startled, then nodded and jogged to keep up.
The architecture of the Spire had changed. Where once a series of antechambers lead into the council chambers, now the main doorway opened directly into a great vaulted ceiling of starstone, glowing with its own light. Ahdri and one of her apprentices moved along the far wall, checking the wall for cracks.
“Welcome to our Ark,” Chani declared.
“Ark?” Swift repeated.
“A human word Door taught us. The humans of the Forevergreen had the most fascinating myths. Apparently their rain-god tried to kill all the humans of Abode in a great flood, but the Ulu-roa built a great fortress ship and simply floated above the waves until the floodwaters ebbed. For centuries they thought they were only humans clever enough to outsmart a sky spirit.” She laughed. “If only.”
“And you devised this Ark to… float above the waves of time?” Rayek asked.
“Precisely.”
“You fit the entire nation inside here?” Swift asked. She tried to imagine the largest of the elfin nations crammed into a room meant to house no more than a few hundred.
“Every elf here in the upper chamber, and enough supplies to last us a season in the lower one. It was a tight fit, but a night of mild discomfort was a small price to pay for safety, I should think.”
“A safety you reserved only for your chosen few,” Timmain growled.
“Surely elves were squeezed into every corner of the Palace last night,” Chani countered. “And at the Egg – oh no! I remember now. The other nations made no effort to protect themselves. Everyone just… went about their lives, either ignorant or utterly deluded about the dangers we faced last night! But for the handful of residents the Palace was empty – and to my knowledge the College did not even attempt to consolidate their starstone into a shield. Isn’t that so, Weatherbird?” she turned to face the smaller elf, and a flicker of emotion passed across her face, too fast for Swift to identify.
“I wouldn’t know, Lady Chani,” Weatherbird said. “I was in the Palace last night.”
“Well, at least you were safe. I’m beyond overjoyed to hear disaster was averted. But you cannot blame us for protecting our own.”
“And what of the other nations?” Swift challenged. “I don’t suppose you issued invitations to everyone?”
“We summoned our close kindred. Some heeded the call, others chose to embrace the danger.”
“And those who aren’t your close kin?”
Chani shrugged. “Not our concern.”
“Fascinating,” Weatherbird spoke up. She had a hand on the starstone wall and now put her ear to the crystal. “It sings at a slightly different pitch than the Palace…”
“I think you’ll find its pitch matches the Egg almost exactly,” Chani volunteered. “This is Abodean starstone: homegrown, courtesy of our grandson’s seedrock and the rockshapers of Oasis.”
“And what do you plan to do with this ‘Ark?’” Swift challenged.
“Have you tried displacing it yet?” Weatherbird asked excitedly. “Or shaping it?”
“Not yet,” Chani answered. “Ahdri and Ekuar have been testing both the shell and the coarser rock of the Spire enclosing it. Once we’re certain the Spire can stand alone, we’ll try some simple experiments. Displacing to the central flats and back. Perhaps beyond the walls. Only then will we try actually flying it.”
“Prudent,” Rayek agreed. “And once you can fly it? Are you reviving the Homestead Scheme? Or something else?”
“Something else? A war of Palaces, perhaps? Smash the two of them together and see who comes out with the stronger ship?” She laughed at the idea. “Please. No, we plan to put this Ark to a much better use. There is a world out there without humans – a world waiting to be explored, waiting to be claimed.”
“So you do mean to go to Homestead, after all,” Swift said.
“We never said we had abandoned the idea. Merely deferred it until the Moment was passed.”
“And now you want to claim an entire world as your Holt?”
“Oh, if you Wolfriders have had your fill of humans too, you’re welcome to join us,” Chani offered brightly. “I’m sure we can find you a nice island somewhere.”
“And what makes you think that you have any more right to that world than you do to this one?” Timmain asked.
“I should think that is obvious, Mother. Because there is no one there to tell me otherwise!”
“Do all the elves of Oasis wish to leave Abode?” Weatherbird asked curiously.
“Yes,” Swift said. “What about the ones who want to stay here? Do they get a say in this?”
“Of course. We plan nothing rashly here, Swift. You should know that by now. We will take only those who wish to come. We will build a new nation with the help of all its members. And if it happens that the majority truly wishes to remain behind walls, then we will once again defer the entire scheme. My lord would never abandon his children, whatever his own desires.”
“And if Oasis does decide to stay?” Swift went on. “What will you do with your Ark, then?”
“Do you question the right of the other nations to use their magic as they will?”
“If those nations had also suggested exterminating an entire species, daughter?” Timmain countered. “Then, yes.”
Chani laughed. “Oh, have no fear of that. The Islanders and the Plainsrunners are fond of their humans – so be it. Their pets are quite safe.”
“And the Homeland humans?” Swift pressed.
“Really, Swift. We always kill humans who trespass into our territory. Does it really matter how we go about it? I should think you’d understand, after Howling Rock. Come, we can debate this later. Be gracious guests and join our celebration. Haken has decreed that Oasis will begin a new calendar starting from tonight. Whatever happens, we’ve all entered a new age!”
* * *
Timmain remained on her feet, aloof, throughout the feast. But Swift and Rayek were given seats near the dais, and once the wine began to flow, Swift found herself quite enjoying the evening. It was good to see old friends again, and even better to finally let her guard down, after all the months of building anxiety, the constant preparation and second-guessing.
There was even something perversely comforting in Leetah’s familiar ritual of sitting at Rayek’s side and venting her latest complaints about Haken. The healer had never forgiven him for banishing Scouter in his last days, and with each living innovation Haken and Melati forced on Oasis, Leetah’s discontent only grew.
“I take it, then, that you will not be settling a new world with him?” Rayek asked archly.
“A world my granddaughter hopes to turn into a playground for her Shapechanged? A land so alien our very bodies may need to be reshaped, molded like clay – with Haken and Melati as master-potters? I think not. Not everyone has this insatiable hunger for novelty. I see no reason why we Sun Folk cannot be content here in Oasis, living as we always have.”
Nothing has always been, Swift thought, but she knew better than to say it. Given the encouragement of an argument, Leetah would hold them captive all night.
“And I am not the only one who thinks so,” Leetah added. “Ask your brother Grayling whether he feels the need to abandon this world and all we have accomplished here. I daresay Haken may find his ‘Ark’ rather empty when he chooses to leave.”
With that pronouncement, Leetah made her way back to her own seat, with Arshel the Potter and his lifemate. Arshel greeted her with a smile and a lazy embrace, while his bronze-haired lifemate Teneniah offered Leetah a fresh cup of cider.
**She seems happy enough with Clay-For-Brains and Thistledown,** Rayek locksent.
**Lizard-tongue,** Swift sent back playfully.
**You think the same of them, don’t deny it.**
**Mm, she does seem to pick them prettier and more empty-headed each time, doesn’t she?**
Since Scouter’s death, Leetah had sworn never to take another lifemate, and so far she had kept her word. Whenever she desired more than simple joinings, she tended to attach herself to mated pairs – sometimes for a year, sometimes for a millennium. Her partners could be male or female, so long as they were tender-hearted and traditional-minded, and counted no Wolfrider in their family tree.
Arshel and Teneniah steadfastly maintained their son Jethel was born of true Recognition – and perhaps the thunderbolt had come out of the blue. But considering how much healing magic Leetah must have infused into the pair throughout their years of joinings, Swift wondered why they bothered to split hairs.
**Cholla’s told me some interesting tales about Arshel and Leetah,** Rayek added.
**Really? I didn’t think she’d care what they get up to in their den.**
**Not that! No, that he’s far more outspoken than he seems. Especially where Melati’s Shapechanged are concerned. Apparently he challenges Haken almost as much as old Scouter did… only with rather more delicacy. But Cholla can’t say whether that’s Leetah’s will or his own.**
**Can’t say I disagree with them, at least where the jackwolves are concerned.** Swift cast a glance at a peace-hound, sprawled out on the ground devouring a large cut of flesh-vine. Two of the hounds had already tried to greet Lucky, and as a result the poor near-wolf was now hiding back inside the Palace pod.
**Did I ever tell you? Maize once informed me she thinks peace-hounds look ‘sweet.’ The bulging eyes, apparently. Some of the young ones find them very affecting.**
Swift shuddered. “If it’s what you’re used to, I suppose.”
She glanced up at the dais, where Weatherbird continued to chatter excitedly with Haken and Chani. Swift itched to eavesdrop; she often had the feeling Weatherbird only ever disclosed half of what the High One told her.
Now Haken rose and made his way over to their mat. “Swift. I owe you my gratitude. I’m told you were the one who insisted on saving the Navigator’s body.”
“For what good it did. He may never want it back. Timmain said the Navigators gave up their whole selves to guide the Palace.”
“She bends her memories to suit her own aims, as always. I was only a child when the Navigators cocooned themselves – impressionable as children are. And I remember – like us, they formed their own Circle, but they were never meant to lose themselves in it. In those first days, we each sent commands to individual Navigators, not a communal mind. I will go to the Palace and see his cocoon,” Haken declared, before adding a dismissive, “if you’ll permit me. Perhaps I can make contact with his spirit.”
Rayek nodded. “We would appreciate your input, Haken. Once matters have quieted down.”
“Indeed,” Haken cast a withering glare in Timmain’s direction as he turned on his heel. A trilling laugh sounded from the dais. Weatherbird was giggling at something Chani had said, her face flushed with delight, and quite likely wine as well. Her arm shook so hard she nearly spilled a full goblet of something dark and sweet.
“Scat, she’s not in her cups, is she?” Rayek murmured.
“She is such a little thing, it doesn’t take much,” Swift remarked. “Remember the last time she visited the Great Holt, and Pike and Skot took her to the dreamberry field?”
Rayek shook his head ruefully. “She doesn’t get that from my side of the family.”
By midnight Swift felt quite pleasantly muzzy-headed from a full belly and three cups of honeywine. A hypnotic buzzing had started up in her head, like a gentle prickle lulling her to sleep.
The prickling became a sharp jolt, and she snapped back to alertness. **Ugh! Sunstream – what?** She glanced at Rayek and found him rubbing at his temples irritably.
“You too?” she asked.
He looked up and gestured. Timmain was already striding towards the crystal pod. “It appears we’ve all been summoned.”
They got up and made for the Palace pod on only somewhat wobbly legs. “How’s the ankle?” Swift asked.
“Stiff. Mending well enough.”
“Sure you don’t want Leetah to stroke it better?”
“No more wine for you, tonight. The Master of the Palace has spoken.”
“Yes, my lord,” Swift purred, as submissively as Rayek could wish for, before she dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Ah, and there’s where it comes from,” Rayek muttered.
Timmain had already “gone out” by the time they caught up with her inside the pod. Swift and Rayek joined her in sending out their spirits. It took Swift a little longer than usual to feel her skin fall away – her spirit had to swim through the dampening veil of fermented sugars. But eventually her awareness cleared, and she found herself on the astral plane, hovering across from Sunstream and Gypsy Moth.
“Gypsy!” Swift rushed up to embrace her youngest. “Oh, it’s always so good to hear from you. But nothing bad, I hope?” She looked from daughter to son anxiously.
“Not bad,” Sunstream insisted. “Just… interesting. When I called the Circle this morning, Gypsy reported an unusual sight off the coast of the New Land – off Djunshold specifically. But I wanted to make sure before I bothered you.”
“Djunshold?” Rayek repeated. “I knew you were hoping to moor the Sea Holt somewhere off the coast of Thorny Mountain for the Reappearance. But last we spoke there were so many human ships on the waters, you were unsure it could be safely done.”
“No, we managed it,” Gypsy said. “Had to take a bit of a detour around the shipping lanes – burned up a lot more coal than I would have liked. We’re going to have to stop at Port Bane and refill our hold before we make another Vastdeep crossing. But we got within a few miles of the coast – close enough to see the lights when the Djunsmen charged the summit and then when the Firstcomers came and went. And one of our crew – you know Farseer, Fisher’s girl? She spotted a light that didn’t wink out when the Palace disappeared.”
Rayek nodded. “The humans used fire-slings – they damaged the Firstcomers’ Shell. We recovered nearly many shards from the summit.”
“This left the summit. It left the land. Up into the sky like a shooting star, only to come back down again before moonset. Hit the water a couple dozen leagues south of Thorny Mountain, near as we can figure. We’re steaming towards the splashdown site right now. Should be there by our dawn.”
“What is it?” Swift turned to Timmain’s ghostly form. “Another broken shard?”
“I believe it is the messenger sphere – a beacon to let others of our kind know we were here, should something go wrong. A condensed Scroll of Colors, you might say – the scope of our memories distilled into their purest form and encoded into the living starstone. A story awaiting a questioner. I sent one out to orbit every world we visited.”
“That must have used up a lot of starstone,” Swift remarked.
“No. Because we always recovered the sphere and returned it to the Homeshell once we had safely quit the world. It was meant only as a final message, should we perish. But this one…”
“You never had the chance to recover it,” Sunstream finished.
“No. And while I had always thought I sent it out after we fell back in the time-spiral, now I see we lingered in this time long enough for the messenger sphere to be launched at the very moment of our stranding.”
“The blow you thought was the start of the crash,” Swift prompted. “It was only the humans’ fire-bomb. The Palace hung around a few more moments.”
“Indeed. And as a moment’s loss of focus will doom an arrow shot from a bow, so my launch of the sphere was doomed to failure. It never achieved sufficient speed to escape the pull of this world.”
“So it crashed into the Vastdeep,” Rayek finished. “I’ve been forced to track enough shooting stars with Skywise to know our world’s air-shield tends to burn up falling intruders. The few fragments that do hit home are but scorched remnants of a far larger object. How large was this messenger sphere?”
Timmain stroked the outline of a circle between her hands, no larger than an elf’s head.
“Then how do we know any of it survived?”
“Because it’s singing to us,” Gypsy Moth said, her grit teeth and tense voice making it clear it was not a pleasant experience.
Swift let out a soft moan. “Remember when rocks were quiet?”
“We must recover the messenger sphere,” Timmain said.
“Yes, of course, we have to recover it! I was just hoping for a good night’s sleep or eight before we jump into the next quest!”
“Come to the Sea Holt, Mama,” Gypsy Moth said. “We always have a set of berths ready for guests. It’s still a few hours shy of sundown where we are, and the hum of the engines will put you right to sleep.”
“These beds… they’re midship, right?” She had never quite mastered her sea legs.
Gypsy Moth grinned and nodded. “And the seas are like glass. I’ll even have Piper brew up a pot of ginger tea, just in case.”
“Right, then,” Swift smiled gamely. It had been nearly two years since she’d last since her youngest daughter in the flesh. And it was best to put some distance between Timmain and Haken as soon as possible. Though perhaps Weatherbird would do better to stay behind, both to sleep off her drink and to hear what Haken might say once Timmain was well out of earshot. Yes, the more she thought about it, the more this new wrinkle seemed a blessing.
“Clear us a landing spot, Captain,” Swift told Gypsy Moth. “We’re coming aboard.”
Elfquest copyright 2015 Warp Graphics, Inc. Elfquest, its logos, characters, situations, all related indicia, and their distinctive likenesses are trademarks of Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Some dialogue taken from Elfquest comics. All such dialogue copyright 2015 Warp Graphics, Inc. All rights reserved. Alternaverse characters and insanity copyright 2015 Jane Senese and Erin Roberts