Jinnarin grinned and said, “Aylis, I would have you meet our daughter, Aylissa, named after you, of course, though mostly we call her Lissa. Lissa, this is your aunt Aylis, or rather your adopted aunt.”
“I know the tale well,” whispered Aylissa. Just under twelve inches tall and with mouse-brown hair, she looked much like her mother, for Jinnarin’s hair, too, was mouse brown, though Farrix’s was coal black. A tiny glitter of some kind of stone on a silver chain hung about her neck and carried a trace of odd ‹fire›. Yet whether it was a token of power or simply something imbued with an unknown essence, Aylis could not say.
“I am so glad to see you,” said Aylis, “but how did you come to know we were here? Was it the Woodwer who told you?”
Farrix again muffled a laugh and shook his head. “Nay, Aylis, ’twas instead a dark bird-”
“Aravan?”
“None other. We thought it was out to snag one of us, a black falcon there in the woods. We readied our bows in case it flew nigh, but it lit on a sturdy limb well up in the trees. Imagine our surprise when in a flash of light it transformed into Aravan. Like to have shocked me silly.”
“Perhaps thinking we might take him for a shape-shifting Black Mage, he remained up in the tree out of range of our arrows until he had explained all and why he had come,” said Jinnarin, taking up the tale.
“A good thing that,” said Aylis, for she knew how deadly were the tiny shafts with their tips of nearly instant lethality.
“Indeed,” said Jinnarin.
“I am so glad he sent you for a visit,” said Aylis, “though I’m afraid the warband and I cannot stay overlong.”
“Not just a visit, my dear,” said Farrix.
“No?”
“Nay.” Farrix then gestured to Aylissa and said, “I would have you meet the Eroean ’s new scout.”
Tiny, brown-haired Aylissa then bobbed a curtsey and smiled.
16
JOURNEY TO THE EROEAN
MID SUMMER, 6E1
“How very splendid,” said Aylis. “You are Aravan’s new scout.” “With Vex, that is,” said Lissa, “else not much of a scout would I be.”
“Vex?”
“My fox,” she replied.
“Ah, yes, you do need your mount,” said Aylis, smiling, imagining tiny Lissa trying to scout afoot, battling her way through weeds and such, rather like someone of Human size trying to pass through an entangled jungle. No, a Fox Rider without a fox would be at the mercy of many things, the least of which were plants. “Speaking of foxes,” said Aylis, looking about, “where are they?”
Lissa gestured westerly toward the darkness cloaking Darda Erynian. “Rux and Rhu and Vex are just at the edge of the forest. We didn’t want some silly Dwarf spitting any of them with a crossbow bolt, thinking they were vermin.”
Aylis spluttered and slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. Finally she mastered herself and said, “Silly Dwarf? I think I’ve never seen one ever do even the slightest harebrained thing.”
“True,” said Jinnarin, “though when deep in their cups they can be quite rowdy.”
Aylis smiled and nodded, but Farrix asked, “When did you see Dwarves deep in their cups?”
Jinnarin said, “It was wintertime in the port of Arbor in Gelen. It was twelfth day of Yule-the first day of a new year, as the High King measures time-and that evening a gentle snow began falling. The hole in the hull of the Eroean had finally been repaired, and two days after, when all had recovered from the labor, a grand celebration was held in the common room of the Blue Mermaid Inn. All of the Elvenship crew were there-sailors and warband alike-as well as Aylis and her father, Alamar.-Oh, and me and Rux. I was lurking in my darkness at the top of the stairs. There was singing and dancing, and Lobbie played his squeeze box and Rolly his pipe and Burden banged away on his drum. All the sailors and warriors stomped in time and clapped their hands, while Aylis and Aravan danced a wild, wild fling, stepping and prancing and whirling about and laughing into each other’s eyes. Chakka chanted marching songs, the words in a brusque language strong. Mage Alamar made the air sparkle with untouchable glitter in a rainbow of dazzling colors, and he caused a strange musical piping amid the sounds of ringing wind chimes. And then Aravan played a harp and voiced stirring sagas, odes to make your heart pound and your blood run hot. And Aylis sang in a high, sweet voice, and not an eye was dry when she finished. And while Dwarves or Men stood guard at the bottom of the steps, allowing no townsman to go up to where I was, many a member of the crew came and sat by me in the darkness, and they laughed and joked and shared their sweets with me. And the Dwarves began arm wrestling with any and all, and bets were laid and war cries shouted and they did become quite rowdy.
“And when the celebration came to an end, it was in the wee hours of the morning. All had by this time fallen silent but for the snores, with sailors and warband sleeping in chairs and on benches and on the tops of tables and under them, too, as well as atop and behind the bar. Outside the gentle snow had become a storm. It was the second of January, and the twelve days of Yule were ended.”
As Jinnarin spoke, Aylis’s eyes filled with remembrance, and a tear trickled down one cheek.
“Are you all right?” asked Jinnarin.
“It was a splendid time,” said Aylis.
“Would that I had been there,” said Farrix, “instead of trapped in my dreams in a crystal cave.”
“Me, too, my love,” said Jinnarin, pulling Farrix close and pecking a kiss on his cheek.
Lissa sighed and looked at Aylis and said, “Perhaps something just as wonderful will happen on our voyage.”
“One can only hope,” replied Aylis.
“Speaking of the voyage,” said Jinnarin, “have the members of the warband been pledged?”
Aylissa looked at her mother. “Pledged?”
Jinnarin nodded. “They must take a pledge to keep secret your existence, or, for that matter, any Fox Rider’s existence from those not of the crew.”
“What?” Lissa looked to her father for confirmation.
“We don’t want anyone to know we are real,” said Farrix, smiling.
“But everyone knows that Pysks are real,” protested Lissa.
“Only in legend, daughter,” said Farrix.
“If they knew we were truly real,” said Jinnarin, “especially if Humans knew, they might try to trap us. You see, they think we can do magic, and they would like to have us grant them three wishes.”
Now Aylissa looked at Aylis, who nodded in agreement and said, “Sometimes Humans can be truly foolish.” Then Aylis turned to Jinnarin and said, “If the Dwarves have not already been pledged by Aravan, I will have them do so ere we reveal our scout to them.”
“Good,” said Jinnarin.
The Pysks and Aylis spoke for long moments more, but Farrix finally said, “We must let our sister and our daughter get some sleep, for the journey ahead is a long one. Besides, we can ride with them through the whole of the Greatwood in the coming days, and surely we will have enough time to catch up with all that has gone since last we saw one another.”
And so, cloaked in their ‹wild-magic› shadows, the three Pysks slipped undetected back past the Dwarven sentries and to their foxes in Darda Erynian to await the coming of dawn.
At the request of Aylis, Brekk assembled the full warband, and they stood in ranks behind him, all but the two sentries perched upon the remains of walls. And to her question, “Aye,” replied the stalwart Dwarf. “Pledged us he did in Kraggen-cor, including the two who are to take the animals back. And as to the Eroean , we are to keep the secrets of her making as well as her pace locked away in our memories forever. To that Captain Aravan added that no matter what we might see or do or hear while serving aboard the Eroean , we will tell no one of whatever befalls without the leave of the captain. Our pledge includes a vow to keep secret the presence of any strange beings or creatures who might sail with us as members of the crew. We are so sworn, and neither torture, drink, death, fever, nor ought else will pry words from our lips and cause us to break our vow. And we took that oath on Chakka honor, as well as swore by Elwydd above.”