Once again he felt the downdraft of wings beating on his face as the fallen one was gently laid at the feet of the tallest.
Jensen stared at the body. Now that she was dead, the glowing aura that had suffused her in life was gone, as was the flickering quality. Now he could see her clearly. There were no wings, and the opalescent feathers that covered her whole body were now a dull, lifeless gray. Anger welled up in him for the loss of her life, and Weis’s senseless violence.
She will rest where she fell, as is our way, said the tall one, stepping forward and stretching out his hand over her lifeless form.
The ground began to tremble, gently at first, then more harshly until a fissure formed under her body and slowly she sank into it. With one last rumble, the gap closed over her.
As he watched, Jensen knew how their scouter had vanished.
Held between two males, Weis was brought forward.
Once more the cries rose in pitch, but from Weis, there was no sound. Released, the burly pilot stood there, as unable to move as Jensen.
You took the gift of life from us and used it to harm our Envoy and kill one of us, said the tall one. Our rule is a life for a life. Yours is now forfeit. He gestured to one of those beside him. Tyril.
Beyond shock and fear, Jensen watched as Tyril stepped forward and stood in front of Weis. Wings that were not wings unfurled and gradually, the pearly white glow that surrounded Tyril faded, grew darker until his wings were shot with an angry dark red. Then, reaching out, Tyril touched Weis.
The man seemed to crumple, to fold up on himself and shrink until finally he fell to the ground. Jensen felt a shiver of fear course through him: he had no doubt at all that Weis was dead.
What of the village? Tyril demanded, turning back to his leader, wings furling and unfurling in anger. They broke our agreement, Nephil, kept the Envoy from us!
Yet here she is, and the Man we Called, sent by them with a warning, Nephil replied.
Then let me visit them, remind them not to neglect the agreement!
I will consider it.
No! Leave the village! They did you no harm! he yelled mentally, praying they could hear him.
Nephil swung his head toward him briefly before turning back to look at the one holding Avana. Heal our Envoy.
Jensen watched, helpless, as the one holding Avana bent over her, touching his lips to hers, infusing her with his life force. Gradually, the glow that surrounded him faded, making him appear more solid, until Avana began to stir. Lifting his head, he set Avana down on her feet.
She inclined her head to him. “Thank you, Caer,” he heard her say.
Be more careful, little sister. You have great value to me.
“I’ll try, Caer.”
Turning to the leader, she once again bowed her head. “Thank you, Lord Nephil, for coming to our aid.”
Nephil gestured to his left and as she moved there, Jensen found himself staggering forward as whatever compulsion had held him motionless was suddenly lifted. He ran to her side, anxious to know for himself that she was well again.
“I’m fine,” she said, taking his hand.
Caer, take them within. I will decide the fate of the Landers now.
“Don’t harm them,” she said as Caer joined them. “They only prevented me leaving out of fear for my safety.”
Tyril frowned, his aura darkening slightly in anger. This is not your concern. Go with Caer. They must be taught to value what you sacrifice for their benefit.
“They sent us to warn you…” Jensen began.
Go!
Avana pulled him close and whispered, “It’s not wise to argue with him in front of his people.”
“But the colonists…”
“Will survive,” she said as they followed Caer out of the cavern and down the adjacent tunnel. “Danu’s Children are not fools. They each depend on the other. It just takes one visit each generation for Landing to realize it’s better to keep the agreement.”
“What’s this agreement you all keep taking about?” In the distance ahead he could see a faint glow and already the air was beginning to feel warmer.
“The first year we were here, they stole some of our cattle and developed a liking for beef. Now, in return for leaving them alone, we leave some milk and cheese out for them, and give them the occasional side of beef. They also keep an eye on our herd beasts grazing on the lower slopes. They’re omnivores like us and eat mainly the mountain deer and goat-like creatures native to Danu. I also teach them about our art and literature in exchange for learning about them. Primarily, they’re teaching me how to heal. The headache pills I gave you earlier were one of their recipes.”
“Why am I here?”
You were Called, as she was. You can learn our ways and be a mate for her, said Caer.
Avana’s face flushed and she looked away from him. “You were one of the original settlers, weren’t you?” he asked, choosing for both their sakes to ignore what Caer had said.
“Why do you need to know?”
“A question isn’t an answer.”
“Yes, I was. I was the only survivor of the first shuttle crash. They hadn’t had chance to meet any of us till then, so I was brought here to be healed. They soon realized I could understand them and began to exchange learning with me. Time isn’t the same inside the mountain, Jensen. I think it’s because they don’t quite live in the same dimension as us. What was weeks for me, when I went back to Landing, had been years there.”
He digested this for a few minutes. “Then the reason my leg was healed was because I was here.”
“You were missing for three months. That’s why Nolan told the Deigon you were dead. We thought you were.”
“And being Called?”
“Means staying with them for some time as students, and helping me find a way to stop the Company from finding out about them.”
He glanced at Caer pacing elegantly beside them, imagining how the Company would want to either exploit these people, or anger them to the point that war ensued. Beings with mental powers, access to a new dimension where time ran at a different rate from the world outside; he could imagine how salable a commodity this would be for any company, let alone theirs.
“Do they know what’s at stake?” he asked, looping his arm around her waist and drawing her in against his side.
“Oh yes. That’s why they call me their Envoy, Jensen. They’re preparing me-us,” she amended, “to speak for them and defend their rights.”
“Sounds to me like a good way to spend the next ten years.”
MY FATHER, THE POPSICLE by Annie Reed
Jodi thought she was an orphan until one sweltering Thursday night in late June when she received The Letter from Billingsly, Wendham & Owens, attorneys at law.
That’s how she always thought of it after that. The Letter. Wasn’t that how you were supposed to think about things that changed your life? All capitalized and important?
At first she thought it was a joke. She’d just worked a double shift at Hot Dog on a Stick in the new mall south of town. She was dead tired, and sick of the smell of lemons, corn dog batter, and hot grease. Her head hurt from where she had to pull her hair up under that stupid striped hat, her shoulders ached from all the fresh lemonade she had to mix, and to top it all off, the air conditioning had been out on the bus ride home. To say the bus had been fragrant was the understatement of the century. She was in no mood for jokes. Her roommate Harry had a pretty twisted sense of humor. A fake letter from an attorney was just his style, but tonight it wasn’t funny.