Osha could understand that. To have two foreign “elves” arrive in the company of a majay-hì would be startling—certainly not a common sight. He expected suspicion, harsh questions, and no immediate belief of the answers. It would have been the same from the guardians of his own people—the Anmaglâhk—before Brot’ân’duivé and Most Aged Father seeded war among the caste.
But there were no questions, not at first.
The leader, whom Osha would later know as “Commander” Althahk, stared at a black majay-hì with strangers who looked much like his own people. After one wave of his hand, the other two raised their poles, dropped the butt-ends on the earth, and stood waiting.
“Are you in need of assistance?” he asked.
Or at least that was what Osha could make out.
He had trouble following the strange pattern and pronunciation of some words. But he had expected a different dialect and did his best to communicate. It was not long before he, Wayfarer, and Shade were escorted along the road. Althahk walked beside them, leading his horse, and sent the other two Shé’ith back to patrolling.
Such a welcome was perhaps a relief to Wayfarer, though Shade seemed indifferent. To Osha, it meant little. And yet it was the beginning of his seeing the stark differences between these people and his own.
Althahk took them onward to the city. As they finally passed through a living arch of two trees grown together high above, the sight beyond almost made Osha think of turning back.
Cleared stretches for paths were “paved” with packed gravel and stone slabs. Gardens and alcoves of flora flowed around countless buildings—rather than living-tree homes. Tendril vines with glistening green leaves and flowering buds climbed immense trees ... with more “made” structures and “made” walkways in their heights.
Earthbound buildings constructed of cut timber and stone were startling compared to the one port settlement of his own people. The an’Cróan did not build cities; they lived in—with—their land and did not dig, chop, cut, and change it like this place. He could understand and accept that humans did so, but not people supposedly like his own.
As Osha walked the main path, Wayfarer whispered to him in pointing out countless gardens overladen with heavy blooms. Every bit of space possessed nurtured—controlled—areas that stood out from their surroundings as ... unnatural.
When Althahk paused and pointed down a side path—another with stone paving—he mentioned finding them lodging. Instead, Osha asked to speak to him alone and told Wayfarer and Shade to wait. He stepped off before the commander even acknowledged the request, though Althahk caught up quickly and redirected him down another side path.
Osha looked around for anyone who might be watching and then pulled the long, canvas bundle off his back and unwrapped it.
Althahk stared without expression.
Osha had already learned his sword was like that of the Shé’ith, though his was made of Chein’âs white metal the commander would have never seen before. He did not know how these other guardians of another people earned their weapons. That was, if they earned such things at all.
Althahk raised his eyes to Osha. “What is this?” he asked. “And where did you get it?”
Osha did his best to explain without revealing much concerning the Anmaglâhk, the Chein’âs, the Séyilf, and ... too many other things.
Althahk listened in silence and remained so for a while after Osha finished. If he was not satisfied, it was difficult to tell.
“What do you seek here?” the commander then asked.
This was the moment Osha dreaded. It was difficult to even say, as he held up the sword.
“To remain among you—the Shé’ith—long enough to understand what this means.”
The large eyes in the elder’s face were too much like those of the great and most honorable Sgäilsheilleache, Osha’s deceased teacher.
“That is wise,” Althahk finally said.
After this, Osha explained Wayfarer’s purpose in coming here. On that same day, the commander took them deep into the forest.
At one point, Shade stopped, looked all around, and then sank on her haunches and began to howl. When Osha asked the majay-hì to stop and move on, Wayfarer grabbed his arm as she looked all around the forest. The girl trembled with fright but stood her ground as if waiting.
“The sacred one knows who is coming,” Althahk said. Raising his eyes from Shade, he gazed in only one direction.
Osha followed the commander’s gaze and heard noises in the undergrowth immediately.
A steel gray female majay-hì shot out of the undergrowth and halted.
Osha remained perfectly still, even as Wayfarer stepped around behind him. Were the majay-hì here as different as everything else in this land?
The female studied everyone tensely, as if prepared to act. She was obviously the scout, for Osha could hear the rest of the pack moving all around but out of sight. And Wayfarer pressed up against his side so that he could feel her trembling as she watched the steel gray female.
He knew what she feared from all of that one’s kind except for Shade and Chap—she feared that they would sense her human blood and reject her as not one of “the people.” She had once told him this fear in secret.
The female swung her head to look back into the brush-thickened trees.
A wild-looking woman pushed out through the leaves with another majay-hì, a mottled-brown male, at her side.
She was small for either a Lhoin’na or an’Cróan, and little taller than an average human woman. Her hair was dark brown—like Wayfarer’s—but with silver streaks. Those locks were bound back by a circlet band of braided green cloth, which might be made of raw shéot’a by its dull shimmer.
Osha did not know Lhoin’na knew how to make such cloth.
The woman’s complexion was dark enough to be that of an an’Cróan. This had to be the one that Wynn had called Vreuvillä.
“Leaf’s Heart” was the last of the Foirfeahkan, whatever that meant. Osha had never heard of such a caste, clan, or calling. There was no such word among his own people.
More majay-hì began coming into sight all around the clearing.
The woman settled a narrow hand upon the head of the mottled-brown male, and she looked down at him as if startled. When she raised her wide eyes, they shifted to someone slightly to Osha’s left.
On instinct, Osha swung his bow arm back to push Wayfarer farther out of sight.
The wild woman’s gaze hardened at him but turned again to Wayfarer.
Vreuvillä’s wild eyes widened and became glassy, as if tears might come. Her lips trembled once. Osha had seen that look on others, those who found something they thought gone forever. He did not like that look aimed at Wayfarer.
Neither did Shade, who crept out with hackles rising.
Vreuvillä’s pained and relieved gaze dropped to Shade with puzzlement and then ... recognition. Her frown returned as she looked to the commander with a slow sigh.
“How often do you let fate shove you about?”
That was the strangest question Osha had ever heard.
“I could hardly resist,” the commander answered, “as you would know.”
At the hint of a smile altering his stern expression, Osha glanced back to Vreuvillä and felt certain she did the same for an instant. There was something more than mere familiarity between these two.
What was happening here?
Vreuvillä looked once more to Osha’s left.
“Please ... come out,” she said softly.
Softness was not something Osha expected from this woman. He felt Wayfarer shift outward around his side. He tried to hold her back, but she grabbed his arm and held it off. At the sight of her, the woman slowly approached.