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Ch. 7 part 2


But then she broke off with a gasp of sheer delight. She tugged on his arm, nearly twirling with ecstasy as she pointed.

Look, Everan, LOOK!

I don’t see anyth—

But he stopped, and she guessed he saw exactly what she had; about twoscore kids from all races were gathering, breathless from some game and preparing for another. They could see one of their own city’s elf boys jump onto the well and start explaining the rules, supposedly, and Kamilé pulled Everan closer so they could hear.

Kamilé, don’t…

Everan, they’re playing a new game, they won’t care!

But Kamilé, maybe we should just—

They gotta let us play, it’s our birthday, isn’t it?

But—

Come ON, Everan! She ducked around a dwarf, pulling him along. He didn’t resist, but he did pull her closer to the back, and she followed without argument. They slipped into the crowd, now able to hear the elf boy over the heads of merchildren, small dwarves, human and elf kids.

“…’Kay, so those’re the rules, so now we gotta split up…Ryce, c’mere…you too…”

An elf girl about the boy’s age joined him, and a merboy, who looked a little confused.

“…so I’ll pick someone, and Ryce’ll pick someone, and—what’s your name?” he asked the merboy, who gave an answer inaudible to the two of them. “Okay, then Saiyney’ll pick someone until everyone’s in a team, and then we’ll play. It doesn’t matter who you pick, okay? ‘Cause it’s funner with everyone mixed up. ‘Kay…so I pick…you, c’mover here.”

Kamilé bounced with excitement as the rest were picked, one at a time. Ooh, I can’t wait, d’you think we’ll be on the same team, Everan?

But he wasn’t listening; he was glancing nervously around, seeming lost. Kamilé, can we just leave, please?

Why? We just got here!

I know…I don’t like it here…too many people…

Oh. She had forgotten about that, and immediately felt bad about it. Still, nothing could hinder her joy at being part of the elf kids’ games for the first time she could remember. Well…can we just play once, Everan? I just wanna play one game, tha’ssall.

Well…He could tell how happy she was, and didn’t want to take it away, no matter how much his head hurt from the noise of the crowd. Okay…you can play two if you want…

‘Kay! she squealed, resisting the urge to hug him; the other elves would make fun of him for sure. Thank you thank you th—oooooh…

For she had just spotted something small, brown, and fuzzy in a girl’s arms, which caught her attention as it opened a mouth and revealed sharp teeth and a little pink tongue. Further inspection revealed floppy ears and thick paws with clean, white claws. What IS that? she wondered.

Everan looked, frowned, and told her, that’s a dog.

A dog?

Yeah. It’s an animal that humans have usually ‘cause they’re good hunters. They’ve got better noses than elves, even.

Ooh…This fascinated her, and before he could stop her, she marched over and tapped the girl on the shoulder. She turned, curls as brown and glossy as the dog’s fur framing her face—she couldn’t have been much older than Kamilé at all.

“Hi,” Kamilé said shyly; the girl was obviously an elf from another village, and she had always been nervous around elves her own age. “What’s that?”

She pointed to the dog, because sometimes Everan could be annoyingly vague. The girl smiled fondly at it.

“’S a puppy, of course! Haven’t you seen one before?” she inquired, surprised.

“Nuh-uh, an’ Everan said it was a…a dog…”

The girl laughed. “He’s a little dog, that’s what he is, and his name’s Chocolate, he looks like it, doesn’t ‘e?”

What’s a chocolate? Kamilé wondered inside her head. Everan was too busy being lost to answer.

“You c’n pet him, if you want,” the girl offered, Kamilé’s eyes lit up, and she had a hard time following the girl’s orders of “careful, careful” as she reached out a hand and placed it on the dog’s fur. It didn’t bite; it didn’t even growl at her. But it did lift its head and lick her hand. She squealed with shock and pulled back, startled by the warm dampness of it. The girl found this hilarious to no end.

“He isn’t hurtin’ you! He likes you, I bet—you wanna hold ‘im?”

“Will he eat me?” Kamilé asked timidly. The girl giggled.

“No, ‘course not, he doesn’t eat people! G”on, pick ‘im up, he doesn’t mind…”

Hesitantly, Kamilé reached out with both hands and slid her fingers under his rounc little stomach, shuddering when he licked her again, but when he did nothing else she lifted him and held him like his owner had. The dog curled up comfortably in her arms, trapping her thumb between his paws and nibbling at it. It almost tickled, and to her surprise, his teeth didn’t hurt at all. She giggled.

“Hee hee hee…I like ‘im…”

“Really?” The girl beamed. “’S good, ‘cause he sure likes you…”

Everan had followed her over to the girl, but was very reluctant to get closer to the little dog, or the girl—in fact, he seemed to be afraid of the former, however Kamilé tried to persuade him. He preferred to hang back and watch the three teams swell, one by one.

Soon there were only a score of them left, and going fast. The elf called Ryce was forced to repeat a request, each time slightly louder than the previous, until her tiny voice could be heard. The merboy, Sainey, pointed to a girl and recruited her to his team, and then it was the elf boy’s turn.

“Um…how ‘bout…” He scanned the remaining group, his eyes falling on the girl beside Kamilé. “Hey, you wanna be on my team?”

She brightened up at once—she had just been confiding to Kamilé about how very much she wanted to be picked, and how terrible it would be to be last. “’Kay!” she said cheerfully. “Lemme just get my puppy!”

Chocolate the dog had his back paws on Kamilé’s shoulder, the front ones on her head, so she now appeared several inches taller, making her about the same height as everyone else. When his owner reached up to get him, he yipped, tail wagging madly, and rejoined the girl.

“Bye,” Kamilé said happily. She’s seen and petted a dog, and that was good enough for her, more than enough to make her day. But when she turned around and saw that everyone was watching her, strange, almost wary looks in their eyes, she changed her mind.

“What?” she inquired, her head cocking to one side.

“What are you doing here? The elf boy demanded rudely, looking at her like something dead, dirty, and foul-smelling. Dirty, yes, but she was alive, and smelled all right…she scowled up at him.

“I’m playin’ a game, that’s what.”

“No you’re not,” he snapped back. “Go away.”

“We can play if we want to!” she shot back. “You said everyone could play, it didn’t matter!”

“Well, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because no one wants you to.” His voice was so cold and harsh that she flinched and shrank back to stand closer to Everan. “No one wants you here, so why don’t you just go ho—” He stopped, a smirk of pure amused contempt spreading across his face. “Or…wherever.”

“No one cares if we play!” she yelled back. “You’re just making that up! Right?”

She glanced appealingly around at the crowd, searching for an ally other than Everan, who was staring at the ground and making himself even smaller than usual. She found none. Still, not all the faced turned to her were hostile, though some were just that—a lot of them merely looked confused, and shrugged as if it didn’t matter to them.

“’S all right, Talin,” the merboy Saiyney told the boy, shrugging with the rest. “She c’n be on my team, if it bothers you.”

Kamilé beamed, giving the elf boy an I-told-you-so glare of triumph. “Cool! Everan too?” she inquired.

Saiyney nodded and said, “Sure,” but then the elf boy, Talin, shook his head, pulling him by his arm and muttering to him, though loudly enough for all to hear, words that felt like a cold knife stabbing into Kamilé’s heart.

“Saiyney, don’t you remember? They’re the ones I told you about…”

This simple statement caused an instant uproar of gasps and exclamations as, simultaneously, the kids near them drew back, as if they had deadly cases of the red plague; the girl hugged her puppy close, staring at Kamilé as if to say, How could I let you touch my pet? What if you had hurt him? How COULD I? How could YOU? And all around them, everywhere they looked, were those scrutinizing, fearful, and most of all, disgusted glares. They knew it well, and hated it.

Kamilé sniffed, determined not to let Talin know how very much that had hurt. “’S a damn lie, I bet.”

Some of the younger kids’ eyes widened at her swearing; she was rather good at it.

“It isn’t.” Talin saw through her tough shell with ease. “Go away.”

“No!” she retaliated. “We wanna play, if they can why can’t we?”

“They don’t want you either,” he snapped.

She felt her teeth grind together in her mouth. “We didn’t do anything to you or anybody! You said everyone could play, we want to, and you better let us or I’ll beat you up!”

A few people laughed at the thought of the tiny eleven-year-old girl taking down the tough-looking, much older boy. Everan groaned, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else, including under a lake.

“Yeah, right,” Talin sneered.

“You’re scared!”

“Of you? As if. What are you, six? Seven?”

This ticked her off enough to force a stream of curses from her mouth. “I’m eleven and it’s my birthday, you gotta let me play on my birthday!”

This might have gotten her some sympathy, if everyone wasn’t scared to death of her. They were too far gone to help her now. Talin scoffed.

‘How d’you know?” he asked her. “You don’t have parents to tell you!”

Kamilé snapped—Everan was forced to grab her arms and hold her back, and she nearly dislocated her shoulders struggling to escape. Lucky she was so flexible. The children nearby were astounded by her ferocity as she kicked and flailed, shouting at the top of her lungs, “I do, I do, we have a mom and a dad and they’re the nicest greatest biggest smartest parents in the whole world, a lot better than yours are, they are they are and—and you’re—you—”

Talin shrugged. “Where are they then?”

She felt the fight slip out of her…she couldn’t answer, couldn’t even make something up. It hurt her to murmur, “Um…I dunno…”

“Do you even know what they look like?” he sneered contemptuously.

“Well…yeah!” She didn’t, but that was okay. They had to look like she did, they just had to…“They look just like me…an’ Everan…”

He scoffed again. “Look, no one,” he said slowly, “looks like you. No one in the entire world, not even in the other races. Ask anybody.” He gestured to the crowd of still-edgy children, a few of whom nodded fervently. “I bet you’re not even elves,” he concluded simply, eyebrows raised.

If Kamilé had had an ounce of sarcasm in her, she might have quoted Everan’s Idiot, does any OTHER race have pointed ears? But she possessed no ice, only fire.

“We are too!” she shouted—Everan was forced to hold her back again before the jumped him. “We’re all elf, I bet you aren’t, you take it back! Everan—let—GO!”

“Get lost,” Talin suggested coolly.

Let’s go, Kamilé, Everan pleaded. They don’t want us here, let’s just go.

Oh, let go of me right now or I’ll beat you up too, Everan, I swear I will, dammit, he won’t get away with it—

Kamilé! Everan said sternly. Just let it go!

No! I’ll…I’ll…!

Stop it, Kamilé! Everan shouted. It was the first time he’d raised his voice to her like that in years, had having him yell at her sobered her up at once. Her cheeks burned; he’d shouted at her like she was a little kid, and even though no one else had heard, she felt three inches tall. She jerked her arms from his grasp, trying not to cry, dusting herself off and haughtily turning away,

“FINE!” she called to Talin. “Play your stupid game, I don’t care!”

She stalked off to scandalized looks—she’d said it a lot more scurrilously than that—and earned a multitude if gasps from the elves when she, unable to contain herself, yelled “Weed!” over her shoulder. Everan followed behind her, struggling to catch up—in her anger she was half-running down the street, all sense of direction gone. Blood fury had taken hold of her, an unfamiliar, unpleasant, but oh-so-sweet feeling, and she felt herself pushing aside everyone in her way that wasn’t too heavy to budge. Everan, however, seemed to be having the time of his life.
That was great, Kamilé! he beamed, laughing inside his head. You really showed ‘em…didja see the looks on their—

Get lost! she snapped in reply.

Poor Everan stopped dead, utterly bewildered. Huh?

She felt like breaking into a run and disappearing forever into the red haze obscuring her vision, but she couldn’t—there were too many people. Everan caught up to her with not too much difficulty, looking confused and a little angry.

What’d I do? he demanded. Why…why’re you…?

Everan was different than she, and always had been: he wasn’t bothered by his actions offending anyone, and he would save his apology for his dying breath, maybe. Being by himself all day or even all week wouldn’t bother him either, not one bit. But he couldn’t stand ignorance—being left in the dark—not knowing anything at all…it was his nature to want to know everything, and be eternally tormented and ticked for a little longer if he found he didn’t. Kamilé knew him very well, and was aware of this, and it infuriated her to no end right now. She turned on her heel and let out her frustration and anger in a hard punch to the shoulder, nearly knocking him over as her voice rose to a scream.

Don’t you ever yell at me ever again! she shouted. You can’t boss me around, not ever, just who d’ya think you are?

She was about to hit him again, but he caught her fist—he may not have been strong, but the boy was fast. Stop it, he ordered edgily. ‘S not MY fault they wouldn’t let you play.

She struggled to pull out of his grasp, but he held on tight. Ohh…you…you…
Without her consent, or even her awareness, her anger fell away, the red haze faded into inpbscurity, and she brust into tears.

Oh no, Everan sighed. No…don’t cry…

It’s not fair! She swore angrily, furious at herself for lashing out at him, furious at that red mist for taking over her, furious at the boy Talin, the whole crowd of them, furious at him for being awful and mean and apathetic about everything… Why’re they so mean? Why don’t they like us, what’d we do?

Everan sighed again, taking her hand and leading her through the crowd. C’mon…

He didn’t often show it, but he was surprisingly gentle for such a cold and reserved sort of person…he led her to the well with a niceness that exceeded brotherhood, even twin brotherhood, and sat her down while he got her some water.

There were people gathered around the well, as people in general tended to do, but it was a little different today—there were little clay cups lined up on the sides so people could drink, and kids were splashing each other, adults were washing stuff, like babies and little splotches on their clothes, and merpeople were actually sticking their legs in the water, keeping well into the shade. There were flowers floating in the water and glittering shards of glass dangling in strands from the driftwood beam supporting the little roof. Even the well had been made pretty—when elves get to decorating, they don’t miss a single thing. Kamilé sniffed as Everan filled a cup with clear water and gave it to her, with the soft order, Just drink it really slowly, okay? All that running and shouting had made her very thirsty, and her throat burned from crying, so the cold water felt especially nice after the hot summer morning. She left the last few sips for Everan, which he drank gratefully.

Don’t cry anymore, ‘kay? he told her. She sniffed again, scrubbing her hand across her eyes to stem the still-flowing tears, and nodded.

Why’re they so mean, Everan? she asked quietly, bringing her knees up to curl in a miserable little hedgehog-ball. A dark look crossed his face as he sat cross-legged beside her.

It’s…it’s just because we’re a little different…and people don’t like that…that’s all.

This made absolutely no sense. But WHY? she insisted pleadingly. What’d we DO?

He sighed yet again, switching into substitute-mother-mode and wiping the tears off her cheeks with his dampened sleeve. We didn’t DO anything. We just…well, we…they just don’t understand.

Understand WHAT?

That we didn’t wanna be orphans, or homeless, or twins, or look funny.

She frowned. But we gotta home…and I still wanna be twins…and you don’t look funny, do you, Everan?

No…He flicked excess water from his sleeve as he dampened it again. You don’t either…we’ve gotta home, but it’s not like theirs, and we’re twins, so we’re not like them, and we don’t look like them…people don’t like it when things are different, because they just don’t understand. They think I’m mute, and they don’t know why, so that’s why they make fun of me for it…
I never heared them make fun of you…Kamilé said quietly. He shrugged.
They used to, ages ago…you just have to ignore them. They thought it’d be funny if I tried to yell at them but couldn’t talk, but I didn’t even look at them, and they went away. They don’t bother me anymore.

Why’re they so mean to you? Kamilé couldn’t even imagine anyone picking on Everan…How’d they ever get the courage to do that?

Mm, I don’t care…I don’t like them anyway…Kamilé, people like that, if they’re that rude to you then you don’t want to be around them anyway. You’ve got me, you know.

Yeah… He knew it wasn’t the same. He knew she hated being looked at like that, talked to in that tone…

And I’ll never make fun of you, he promised, placing a hand on her shoulder. Or tell you to go away, or not let you play with me.

It meant a lot to her—somehow, people in school had found out all about her, about being a twin, having no parents or proper home, not being able to read…she never got any peace from it, when they weren’t ignoring her completely. All of it hurt, especially the reading part…aside from feeling unwanted and lonely, she felt stupid, too.

Thanks, Everan…

Anytime, he assured her, reaching behind his back and plucking a floating azalea from the water. He twisted up her hair and pushed the flower’s stem into it for her—the white, striated with pink, looked pretty against her darker-than-dark hair. The kind gesture made her want to cry again, but brought a smile to her lips.

You’re the best big brother ever, she told him fervently, hugging him without her usual excited force. He let her for perhaps thirty seconds, probably appreciating the lack of rib-crushing.

I thought we were the same age, he teased. She wrinkled her nose at him.

You better believe it, she said firmly. You can’t boss me around and you know it.

Oh yes I can, he smirked, shoving her lightly. You have to do e-very-thing I tell you to ‘cause I was born first—

She splashed cold water at him, giggling when he jumped. No, ‘cause you’re the evil villain in the book and I’mma hero and I gotta beat you up or no one’ll get saved…

He splashed her back, and she returned fire—by the time this frantic, hurling-water-and-fire-and laughter splash fight was over, the fronts of both their shirts were soaking wet, and passersby with little streams of water running down their foreheads and shirts were giving them stern, grown-up-ish glares. Kamilé’s gasping breath let itself out in giggles, and she wrung out the hem of her shirt while she waited for them to subside. Everan had been close to losing, and now managed to gasp out, Hey, are you hungry? with his remaining breath. She nodded fervently—her stomach felt like it had a hole in it, a big black hungry hole—and, still a little out of breath, they followed their noses to the long table laden with food, from which a million and one delicious scents were wafting their way over to them.

As they were dodging their way through the crowd, Kamilé thought of something that she couldn’t let go…that she didn’t want to ask, but had to sometime…it had been bothering her for…forever…

Everan?

Yeah?

Um…if…if all them knew how much it hurted…them being so mean…

The half-smile slid from Everan’s face, a distant look coming into his eyes.

…would they still pick on us? If they knew?

Oh, yeah, he answered, almost resignedly. Sure they would…they WANT to hurt you, y’know…they’d probably do it even more. Gods, I’m starving. Doesn’t all that look good?



The food tasted better than it looked or smelled—they had piled a plate high for both of them to share, Everan grabbing a bowl of vegetable soup, Kamilé carefully choosing a drink that wasn’t brown or smelly—Everan said she wouldn’t like it at all—and after a narrow miss with a cup of red wine she finally found some strawberry cordial and hurried to follow Everan down the long line of food, most of which they had never seen before.

Their knowledge of food was very simple—there was stolen bread, several variations of this, all kinds of fruit, some vegetables, and things Pilori had burned years ago. They saw entire platters of bread and rolls and such, and others full of fruit, but the rest was conspicuously absent…and in its place was the most delicious-looking, -smelling, and -tasting food they had ever experienced. Everan knew all the names and what was in them—in fact, by the sound of it, he could make them himself with ease—and he told her which ones were sweet and tangy, savory or buttery or bitter, and if it was made with strawberries, peaches, oranges, apples, pears, vegetables (he made a special note to point out carrots), spices, or anything else he thought she would know from an acorn. There actually were acorns there—entire plates stacked high with her very favorite—candy! How did they know?

Needless to say, she dropped as many candied fruits and nuts on the plate as Everan would allow, and the rest went shoved into her pockets. They’d be gone by the end of the day, that was certain, no matter how much Everan complained that she really didn’t need the sugar.

Somehow, Kamilé found herself wondering what the catch was as they ducked underneath the table and sat in the shade; they hadn’t had to steal any of it. Or was it poisoned? Oh, who cared…? They hungrily dove at the food, disregarding all pretenses of napkins, forks, or spoons, in the heights of heaven for the ten or so minutes it lasted.

Yummy, Kamilé sighed, in total, complete ecstasy as something called apple pie soaked its flavor into her tongue. ‘S so good…

Everan nodded fervently as he left half of the vegetable soup for her, chewing on something green and orange that he said was broccoli, whatever that was, with cheese, whatever that was. Try that, he told her, pointing to something iffily brownish-black. You’ll like it.

‘S burnt, she objected, poking it.

No it’s not, it’s kjanai, you’ll like it. [KV: That's a brownie stuffed with fruti in the middle with syrup on top--yummy.]

Oka-a-ay…She took an experimental bite of the brownish-black thing…and took another, and another…it was one of the best things she’d ever put into her mouth. Mmm…She took another bite and found that there was something sticky, sweet, and vaguely strawberry-smelling in the center. ‘S sooooogooood…what is it?

Um…’s got chocolate in it…and strawberries…

So THAT’S what chocolate is! She understood now…did that girl’s dog taste like this? Was she gonna eat him to find out? Oh, who cared…she was no fun anyway. With only three bites left, she felt a little guilty, and offered it to Everan, licking syrup from her cheek. You want the rest?

He looked at it as if he was being offered a dirt-covered worm, wrinkling his nose. No thanks. You go right ahead.

She shrugged, licking her fingers—by the time he’d finished speaking, it had already been gone. ‘S yummy though. She brought the bowl of soup to her mouth and slurped some of it up, grimacing as a carrot nearly chocked her. Eww, carrots…

Everan half-smirked as he chewed on some bread—even he hadn’t been able to remain spotless, an atrocity and a breach of typical Everanishness that could not or would not be forgotten or forgiven. Kamilé thought it was kinda funny.

You’re all dirty now, she accused him, making inroads on a pastry. He stuck his tongue out, giving her a like-I-care shrug

You are too, he pointed out, amused.

I don’t mind. She really didn’t; all the dirt wasn’t bothering her one bit. I kinda like it.

That’s what I’m worried about. Everan sighed, cleaning himself off in a very clean, dignified manner. Kamilé copied him, to an extent, only she looked more like a cat grooming itself than, say, a sharp-eyed eagle. Everan raised his eyebrows at her, but chose to ignore it. ‘Cause that’s kinda weird and…uh, what are you doing?

Kamilé was having fun, that’s what she was doing. She sat very close to the tablecloth, watching people’s feet pass by, and when she found one she liked, she shot out her hand with the speed of a striking snake and poked it. The victim, a barefoot mermaid, jumped and cried out, looking around for those snakes she had been warned about. But there was no bite mark on her ankle, only a small smudge of strawberry jam, and eventually, she shrugged it off and went on.

Kamilé giggled. ‘S fun, Everan, wanna play?

He frowned. That’s not very nice, Kamilé…

Whoever said I was nice? she inquired, waiting on tenterhooks for a new unwilling playmate. She did it again, this time to a dwarf, which wasn’t a very good idea; however, he didn’t even feel it. A tiny human baby, toddling along beside his mother, saw her and curiously fell to his hands and knees, peering under the tablecloth, but then his mother picked him up and they passed without discovering the two.

Um, Kamilé?

Yeah?

Stop poking people that’re gonna kill you, please.

Like who? she asked absently, prodding another dwarf. This one felt it, but apparently was quite used to snake bites and took no notice.

Like her.


Oh, she’s fine, and she had a pretty bracelet on...

Um, no, really, Kamilé…dwarves have a history of being kind of aggressive…

Huh?

They have AXES. Those HURT.

Oh, they’re not gonna kill anybody…

Well oka-ay, but I wouldn’t if I was you…

But it’s fun!

Yeah, okay…just stop leaving marks, will you?

She wiped her hands impatiently on her jerkin, finishing just in time to prod the leg of a passing female, either elfin or human. Elfin, she noted, seeing the wildflower bracelet and simple clothes—whoever it was, she didn’t jump, but she did stop for a moment and look around. Kamilé found it hilarious, breaking into a fit of silent giggles as she watched the feet move around, seeming a little confused. But then her laughter broke off as the wildflower-clad hand pressed against the fresh-swept stone street, and Kamilé scrambled away, holding her breath as the tablecloth lifted and they found themselves face-to-face with their teacher.

“Surprise,” Marli said cheerfully as they both froze, presented with her traditional gotcha!-and-oh-gods-are-you-in-trouble-now evil grin.

“Hi-i,” she said, when they didn’t answer. “Whatcha doing?”
Kamilé blinked. “Uhh…”

“Poking people’s legs, that’s what you’re doing. It’s not very nice, you know, you should probably stop, because you’ll just make the wrong people mad…bet you weren’t expecting me, huh?”

Kamilé wordlessly shook her head. To their surprise—and complete un-amusement—Marli crawled under the table and sat beside them, compacting her legs neatly against her chest.

“Cozy,” she commented. “Anyway, you can play games all you want, I’m sure no one really cares, but next time remember that it spoils the fun when you’re so glaringly obvious…”

“Huh?” Kamilé asked her. Her grin widened.

“I mean, even if you thought those two dwarves and the mermaid didn’t know you were under here, I guarantee that at least one did, probably two, and you should keep in mind that it’s almost impossible to scare a dwarf. Furthermore, yet again you two managed to draw attention to yourselves, but you’ll be happy to know that Talin’s words came back to haunt him, and the members of that little gang without a mother or a father found it discriminatory and excluded him from his own game. And even though none of them knew the way the game was really played, they figured it out eventually. But after a scene like that you two can’t just expect to walk over to the well and have a splash fight, and then get a huge plate of food, scarf it in about ten minutes, sit under the table and poke people that pass by, and not be noticed. Shameful.”

Everan stared, and Kamilé blinked, several times. Why’s she following us? Everan managed at last, sounding not so much angry as offended that he hadn’t come up with such a long, eloquent speech himself, and of course have it completely put to waste, as Kamilé couldn’t even tell if that was Ametrisan or not.

“That’s creepy,” Kamilé managed at last. “Why’re you watchin’ us like that?”

Marli laughed. “I’m not watching just you; I happen to pay attention more than the average elf. See, where I come from, we’re taught that every tiny detail is important, and that being familiar with your surroundings at all times can save your life. Good advice.”

“Uh-huh.” In truth, Kamilé hadn’t the faintest idea of what she was talking about.

“Well!” Marli laced her fingers and pushed them outward with a few small cracking noises, arching her back, before stretching her legs out and reemerging in the sunlight. “You coming? There’s someone that wants to see you, what’s her name now…?”

“Who?”

“Oh, dammit…sorry…forgot already, how pathetic…Pyn…Pir…Pil…Pilori. Yeah, that’s it.”

“Pilori?” Kamilé perked up at once, and Everan scowled. “Cool!”

“Oh, yeah.” Marli ducked her way around a crowd of densely-packed human teenagers, and as they passed, on the receiving end of one of Marli’s characteristic icy glares, (though, Kamilé remembered, she was one herself,) Marli took Kamilé’s hand and led them both through the throng on her own. The gesture seemed merely polite, almost habitual, but warm and friendly, quite unlike anything Kamilé had ever experienced before. “That’s another thing, this Pilori woman, you sure she’s your mother? Because she says she is, and I don’t mean to be rude—” an often-stated remark she never meant—“but I really don’t see the resemblance, and I think she’s part human, too…”

“Is she?” Kamilé mused. “Okay.” (After all, musing wasn’t exactly her thing.)

“So how did THAT happen?”

“Um…” Everan had told her not to “elaborate”, and she wasn’t exactly sure how to do that. In the end, she just went with, “I dunno.”

“Hmm…she’s a little off, I was kinda curious before but now I decided I just don’t want to know. Is she what happened to you two?”

“Huh?” Everan was frowning; that wasn’t nice, apparently. When she couldn’t figure it out, she shrugged. “No, ‘s just you noticin’ stuff…”

Marli laughed again, ruffling her hair fondly—Kamilé wished she wouldn’t, because then Everan’s pretty flower would fall out, and then what would she do? But all that happened was the liberation of a few curls that were now free to dangle across her forehead. “Well, I guess I do notice things a lot,” she conceded.

“You notice any more stuff?” Kamilé was kind of curious—what kind of things were Marli’s “where I come from” people supposed to pay attention to?

Marli shrugged, smiling as she craned her head to see over the masses. “About you two, you mean? Not a lot, just the completely obvious. Twins that don’t act very much like twins, kinda dirty, do not appear to possess uniforms of any kind…oh, and Everan, I don’t think you should even be in school, it’s a waste of time, and Kamilé, you’re failing.”

Kamilé didn’t care much, but she thought it necessary to point out that, “It’s not my fault, though…”

“Not your fault? How’s that?”

“’Caaaauuuseee…’s Everan’s turn to be smart.”

“His turn?” Marli repeated, raising an eyebrow. “It’s been his turn for two years? No, three now…”

“Yeah.” This seemed the best way to explain, but Marli didn’t quite get it. Or maybe she did, but before she could respond a passing dwarf accidentally planted a heavy foot on her toes, and her answer was lost in a barrage of exclamations.

“OW! Damn—those—dwarves,” she muttered between other-language phrases that were obviously swear words, wincing as she limped slightly on her stepped-on toe.

“Sorry,” Kamilé murmured. Wasn’t that what you said when someone was hurt?

Marli laid her weight gingerly on her injured foot, continuing forward without wincing when she found the wound to be only minor. “Close one,” she sighed, relieved. “Know people that broke toes from that. Sorry,” she added, presumably for the swearing. They didn’t mind. For one thing, Kamilé swore better than that. Also, it had taken the attention off of their personal lives, or lack thereof, and gave Kamilé an Everan-prodded opportunity to innocently change the subject.

“Why you notice stuff so much?”

Marli shrugged. “Got thing better to do.” What is with you people and leaving out helping verbs?! Everan demanded. Kamilé ignored him. “This whole teacher thing is such an obvious waste of my talents. You know, I can throw a knife from fifty yards and hit the target every time, dead center, not everyone can do that, but it’s no use here…”

Kamilé would have whistled if her mind had been able to calculate the length of fifty yards. It was impressive.

“How come?”

“Because no one fights here. Gods, no one even throws insults around…not that it’s a bad thing, but it’s really boring.”

“Uh-huh.” Kamilé was too busy listening to Everan to respond, as multi-tasking was semi-difficult for her. Why’d she come here in the first place? he was musing—things he would say aloud if he talked, which he didn’t. And how’d she even get here anyway?

Uh…walked?

You can’t just WALK through three miles of mist , Kamilé…

Oh. Why not?

Because it’s an ISLAND, you have to take a ship, a big one, and they aren’t allowed here…ever wonder why there’s mist in the first place?

Nope.

It’s so no one can get IN. Apparently the deities decided that people that actually think for themselves would come and mess things up, so people from all the other countries have to stay out. Like Marli. How did she do it?

I dunno, ask her.

No. You ask.

I don’t want to!

Then don’t!

Fine, Kamilé said huffily, sticking her tongue out at him. He probably would have responded, and then a fight would have ensued for sure, but that didn’t happen, because Marli chose that moment to say, “Here we go,” interrupting the inaudible bout of mental sparring.

She led them onto a different street, smaller, less central, and therefore not as crowded. The music coming from the square was dim, the smells of food and people faded. All thee ducked around sparsely clustered groups of elves and humans, past small stone houses and tiny plots of garden, bursting with color. Soon they saw their destination—two elves chatting comfortably on a doorstep, male and female, fair hair and skin contrasted with an olive complexion and jet-black hair. But this only registered for a split second, as then the fair-haired one spotted them, and they found themselves trapped in her tight, affectionate hug.

“Kamilé! Everan!” Pilori squealed happily. “Where have you been, I missed you so much…happy birthday, babies…”

“It’s their birthday?” Marli sounded confused, and a little guilty. “Now that’s convenient.”

Everan had already wriggled out of Pilori’s grasp, and when Kamilé did the same she saw no use in trying any longer. “It really is. Aren’t you lucky, guys? Your birthday’s on the festival day, that’s special. Are you having fun?”

“Uh-huh,” Kamilé answered, looking to Everan for help, but he was pointedly looking away from their “mom,” so none was forthcoming. Marli frowned.

“I’m sorry, guys, if I’d’ve known I’d have gotten you something…oops.”
“Uh, you did, Marli,” Kayle interrupted from his spot on the doorstep, giving Marli a look. “Remember?”

“N—” She paused to stare at him. “Really? But you said…”

And then she turned her eyes in the direction of Pilori, Kamilé, and Everan, who were all giving her very odd glances, and said, “Never mind.”

Apparently deciding to ignore this, Pilori snatched Kamilé and sat her on her lap, and in repentance for her inattention she was subjected, after a sharp reprimand of, “Kamilé! What on earth have you been doing? You’re filthy!” to a thorough face-cleaning. She struggled and complained, as was expected, but with no hope of help from Everan she was unable to escape. Pilori caught her with a hug mid-scrubbing, forcing Kamilé to grimace and struggle harder, but she didn’t let her down until she was satisfied. Kamilé scrambled off her lap and sat on the doorstep next to Everan, folding her arms huffily.

That hurted, she complained—Pilori wasn’t even half as gentle as Everan.

“So…” Pilori sat beside them, attempting to hug them again; it didn’t work. “How’ve you two been, huh? You doing all right?”

Kamilé nodded; again, Everan had told her not to elaborate, only this time he told her what it meant. Make your answers as short as you can, he added. She didn’t know why, but she did anyway.

“You got something to eat, didn’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

Pilori was good at pretending to be a mom, even if she wasn’t particularly great at being one. Kamilé nodded compliantly to all her many questions.

“You two’ve been all right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you’ve been getting plenty to eat?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Looks like you’ve grown a lot, haven’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you’ve been doing well at school? You do your homework every day?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do they, Professor?”

“Uh-huh,” Marli said absently.

“You and Everan don’t fight too much?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you always win?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Where’ve you been staying?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Kamilé, are you listening?”

“Uh-huh.”

Everan nudged her as Pilori sighed wearily, informing her that saying “uh-huh,” during every pause wasn’t working anymore.

“I said, where’ve you been living?”

Don’t tell her anything, Everan warned her.

You’re too confusin’, Kamilé complained, as she decided that the best course of action was to point in the direction of their house.

“Really? With who?”

“People,” she replied vaguely, shrugging as she laid back on the doorstep and watched the clouds dreamily, swinging her legs off the edge. Pilori’s eyebrows arched.

“Is it big enough for you two?”

“Yup.”

“IS it nice? What’s it look like?”

Kamilé raised her arms and drew a picture mid-air. She thought she had done a very good job, but grown-ups never understood things.

“All right…can you show me later?”

“Uh-huh.”

That was about where Pilori decided to give up, for the sake of her sanity. Good job, Everan told her, and she grinned.

“So, um…Pilori…” Marli sat between Kayle and Everan, (who grimaced and edged away,) and purposely looked away, her tone innocent. “You’re their mom, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Pilori replied, almost testily—Kamilé and Everan knew what was coming, from repeated incidents in their earlier years, and knew that she hated it. They didn’t like it much themselves.

“Oh, well, if you don’t mind my asking…how did that happen?”

“Excuse me?” There was no doubt; Pilori’s voice was as sharp as broken glass.

“Well, they just don’t look like you, that’s all. Maybe they look like their father or something?”

“No.” Pilori turned away, an angry slash between her eyebrows, a hard look on her face as well as on Kamilé’s and Everan’s.

“Well—”

“If you must know, they’re adopted,” she snapped, forestalling the inevitable question. Marli nodded.

“Yeah, I guessed…um, so…you don’t live here, do you?”

“No.” Pilori looked angry, but Kamilé, at least, could tell that answering all these questions hurt…for a moment, she felt like she should be on Pilori’s side, just for once. But Everan, who could hold a grudge for a lot longer than five years, didn’t agree, and warned her to stay out of it. And judging by both their physical and mental placement in this argument, that was going to be about as hard as starting a bonfire in the center of a battlefield.

“Where d’you live?”

“A few leagues outside Merista.”

“Wow, that’s really far…and Kamilé and Everan live here?”

“Yes they do.”

“With…?”

Pilori didn’t answer; instead, she threw an expectant look at Kamilé, particularly, as if asking her to answer. Kamilé didn’t catch the hint and merely blinked in confusion. Pilori sighed in frustration as she was finally forced to shrug.

“You don’t know?”

Marli received no answer.

“Oh, well…I’d have to wonder how that works out…you being their mother and a—”

“I’d have to wonder how it’s any of your business,” Pilori shot back, her voice and eyes as cold as ice. Marli raised her eyebrows, showing no signs of backing off.

“They’re children, sayama.” The normally respectful term was anything but when Marli said it. “They can’t live alone.”

“They don’t,” Pilori snapped, though she didn’t sound too sure.

“How would you know?” The question was innocent enough, but all present could tell that she was trying hard not to break something. Something like Pilori’s neck.

I like her, Everan said unexpectedly. Kamilé stared at him, but he was busy watching Marli. I’m taking her side.

Poor Kamilé was now even more confused. But then Pilori’ll be all by herself…

So are we.

It was a good point, and Kamilé saw no argument against it, so she said nothing.

“Why should you care, Professor?”

Marli’s eyes flashed. “You know, before I thought that they were orphans, and I felt awful about it—Everan’s smart and Kamilé’s sweet, there’s no reason they shouldn’t have a normal life, don’t you think? But it’s even worse if they actually have a mother, even an adopted one, and she’s not around to take care of them! Just how long have you been gone? Or were you ever here?”

“I did the best I could!” Pilori shouted defensively—people were starting to stare now.

“Not good enough! Kamilé can’t even read, no one ever taught her, where were you for that?”

“Of course she can read,” Pilori said dismissively. “Can’t you, baby?”

All eyes were suddenly on Kamilé; she felt like hiding, and didn’t know what to say. She hugged her knees to her chest, wishing they would all go away except Everan, and shook her head.

“You can’t?” Pilori sounded surprised. “But didn’t Everan teach you?”

I tried, Everan said wearily, putting a comforting hand on Kamilé’s shoulder.

“See?” Marli seemed triumphant, but obviously knew this was no time for smiling. “Look, I’ve had enough of all this, maybe you could at least find a guardian for them, is that so hard? You’re not doing them too much good in Merista—”

“What would you know?” Pilori’s voice betrayed how hurt she was, but her anger was far from gone. “You’re no more than a child yourself!”

“Whoooaaaaa,” Kayle interrupted, placing a restraining hand on Marli’s arm—her fingers were curling into claws, and Pilori looked murderous. “Why don’t you guys take this fight somewhere else?”

“Why should we?” Marli snapped, jerking his arm off.

“Because you’re scaring the kids, that’s why.”

He had a point; though Everan was far from perturbed, Kamilé was about to cry. She hated it when people fought, just hated it. Pilori looked guilty, and the anger on Marli’s face was replaced by cool indifference.

“Fine.” She stood, brushed her pants off, and gestured to a small side alley. “Shall we?”

“All right by me,” Pilori replied coldly, following Marli down the tiny street. They heard low voices coming from there, but no one was yelling or screaming in pain, so they guessed everything was fine now.

As soon as they were gone, Kayle let out a relieved sigh, and then grasped Kamilé and Everan firmly by the shoulders. “All right, you little buggers,” he said quietly, so only they could hear. “Where’s my book?”

“Book?” Kamilé said innocently. “What’s a book?”

“Don’t play that game with me, kid. The chosen book. You know…it was small but very thick, had a star on the cover, cloth-bound. Where’d you put it?”

“Why would I have it?” Kamilé fixed wide eyes on his narrowed green ones. He was kinda scary, nearly five years older than them and twice as tall. “I can’t read.”

“He can.” Kayle shook Everan’s shoulder a little, not enough to hurt, but enough to tick Everan off. “C’mon, Everan, hand it over. I wasn’t supposed to let anyone see that, it’s very important that I get it back, do you understand?”

Everan fixed him with a cold, unblinking glare, the creepy kind of basilisk stare that Everan was really, really good at. Kayle backed off a little, letting go of him.

“Where is it?” he repeated.

“We don’t have it,” Kamilé sighed, shrugging him off. “You probably losted it.”

“No, a certain pair of twins took it. Look, you should know that anyone but me having that book is against the law. You and I both could get into really big trouble. The kind of trouble that hurts. I don’t want the Elders to get involved with this, but I’ll have no choice if I don’t get it today… if someone else tells them before me, I’m screwed. So, please, please give it back, I really like my job and I’ve had it for years, don’t mess this up for me…c’mon, I got you a birthday present, didn’t I? Almost a week ago?”

He had a point, even though they hadn’t received it yet…still, it would do no good. The chosen book was safely stowed in the shelf in their treehouse.

“We’ll give it to you t’morrow,” Kamilé promised him. “We don’t got it now…”

Don’t HAVE it, Everan sighed, shaking his head.

“Early tomorrow,” Kayle insisted. “I’ve got an inspection in a few days, it’s very important, so don’t forget, all right?”

“’Kay.”

Kayle grinned, mouthing a silent “thank you” as Marli and Pilori came back around the corner, both looking rather dissatisfied, but no longer angry. “Hey, girls,” he said cheerfully. “Had a good time?”

No one answered him; Pilori and Marli took their respective spots and didn’t even look at each other. Kayle shrugged it off, nudging Marli and giving her a meaningful glance.

“Oh, right,” she said, as Kayle took something out of his pocket. “Kamilé, Everan…happy birthday. You’re not eleven every day, so Kayle and I wanted to get you something special—Here.”

Kamilé took it enthusiastically, though she didn’t know what it was—it was a shapeless black pouch, with a drawstring that was tied in a complex knot at the top, and as she gave it a thorough inspection she saw a symbol she didn’t recognize on the back. It looked like a circle, split in half with a wavy line, one side white, the other black, with a small dot of the opposite color on each half.

That’s Ametris’s symbol, Everan informed her, intrigued. Called the Heart of Ametris. It’s named after this famous artifact from before the war.

Cool, Kamilé said vaguely, pretending to know what an artifact was. “What is it?” she said aloud, to Marli and Kayle.

“It’s luck,” Kayle explained.

“Luck?”

“Yes, luck. Don’t open it, now. You’re supposed to keep it closed until you really need it.”

“It’s an old tradition from my country,” Marli added, beaming. “You get a pouch and fill it with everything people will ever need for luck. Small things, different sorts of charms and other stuff, and when you really, really need some luck, of any kind, you open it and find what you need. It doesn’t work if you open it too soon, though.”

“Thank you,” Kamilé said politely, while inside her head she made a face. Wish we could open it now, she said to Everan. He shrugged.

I can tell you what’s in it, probably. Let me see.

She gave it to him, and he felt the contents of the pouch through the cloth with his sensitive fingers. While he did that, Kamilé had to answer all the grown-up-ish conversations directed at her.

“How’s your party been?” Marli grinned. “Oh gods, you have all the luck, what are the odds that your birthday would be on the Festival? Or, wait…you didn’t make it that way on purpose, did you?”

“No, it’s really their birthday,” Pilori assured her. “Seventh of summer, 7063.”

“You remembered?” Kamilé perked up; sort of weird, wasn’t it, that Pilori would forget them and leave them here, but remember their birthday…?

“Of course I remembered!” Pilori laughed, as if the idea was ludicrous. “I could never forget that…Oh, that reminds me, I got you something too…”
And with a flourish, she grasped something inside her handbag and pulled out…a book.

Kamilé stared at it. Pilori smiled almost apologetically.

“I know you don’t like books, baby, but it’s a good story, and you can get Everan to read it to you…you’ll both like it, I think.”

“’S a book,” Kamilé said accusingly.

“Warcraft,” Marli read aloud, arching an eyebrow. “Well, doesn’t that sound like just the thing an eleven-year-old should read?”

Pilori was unperturbed. “Oh, you’d be surprised at what I caught Everan reading when he was five, things that even I wouldn’t read…and it’s just your sort of book, Kamilé, it’s all about the war and the first chosen and things like that…”

“A chosen?” Kamilé inquired, starting to perk up. “And people fighting?”

Kayle had carefully taken the book and was now flipping through it, frowning. “Pilori,” he said slowly, “I’ve heard about this book, you know it isn’t so much about the war as it is about actually waging war, don’t you? It’s considered the manual for that time, which according to the author is inevitable, when Ametris finally snaps…he was some nut like Marli.”

“Oh, thanks,” Marli said sarcastically. “But he does sound like my kind of guy. Nice choice of book, Pilori. Sorry for doubting you.”

“Um, it wasn’t exactly written for children,” Kayle pointed out. “It was written for, ah…grown men…who lived through a war…that drove them crazy.”

“Sounds educational.” Marli grinned. “Probably written by one of my people.”

Kayle shook his head, polishing his glasses on his sleeve as he continued to stare at the book. “I wasn’t even allowed to stock this,” he admitted. “It’s kind of…blasphemous… but I guess people figure that it would be a greater sin to burn a book…especially one with Haenir in it. You know, in here it says he never killed a single person, I don’t think that’s right at all…this can’t be factual.”

“It’s a useful skill, you know,” Marli told him. “Knowing battle tactics and how to use weapons and stuff. Even if you never use it, it helps you…better reflexes and faster thinking, and stuff…”

“Oh no,” Pilori objected. “My babies, learning all that? Not on my life…”

Kamilé rolled her eyes, letting them go at it, while she turned back to Everan.

You figure it out yet?

Yeah, almost, he replied, concentration drawing a thin line between his eyebrows. It’s got a lot of random stuff in here…a couple of shells, a feather, and a rock…and there’s an elf charm in here, I think it’s that one that we see everywhere in the stalls, you know…a leaf on a chain with a drop of water on it?

Oh, yeah. She liked that one a lot. The drop of water was star-shaped, made of real crystal, Everan said. That’s nice…

That’s not it, though…there’s a lot of different kinds of seeds, and a bottle of something…there’s a piece of parchment in there, too, and a little bag of something…feels like leaves. Oh, and there’s a shard coin in there.

There is?

Yeah, but it’s not even a whole one. Not a big deal. Everan seemed kind of disappointed. That would’ve been really useful…just one coin…you can’t get much for five shards…

Shards…like, money?

Yeah, money.

Aren’t they sharp though? Like glass? Kamilé had her fingers around the half-coin, feeling it…it was round, with part missing, though.

Normally, yeah. But when you have seven they all click together and make a coin, it’s easier that way. He sighed. All the other stuff isn’t much use to us…a coin could’ve gotten us some food…

Can get something, though, can’t we?

Yeah…He snorted. Like, half a loaf of bread…five shards…that’s almost worse than nothing at all…

Well, I like it, Kamilé said. Can I keep it, Everan? They’re shiny, aren’t they?

Most of the time. But no, I’m gonna keep it somewhere safe…if we get a few more, than we’ll be good…

Oh. She shrugged; it didn’t matter where he kept it, she could find it and look at it sometimes, maybe. Well, Pilori getted a book for us, think you’d like it…

A book? Everan was automatically interested, though he’d read a good three-quarters of their own library already. Without a single word of warning from either twin, Everan took the book from Marli, and within three seconds he’d already opened it and was halfway down the page.

I’ve heard of this book, he told Kamilé absently. I always wanted to read it…but Kayle doesn’t have it.

“Oh, now I remember,” Kayle said suddenly, as if he too was telepathic. “Everan came in last year and asked for this…good call, Pilori.”

This seemed to surprise Pilori…but she made no comment on it, save “Glad you like it, baby.” She reached over and gave him a hug, which he shrugged off, and then Kamilé, who attempted to do the same, though she got in a kiss on the cheek and a fond, “I love you, sweetie,” before retreat.

Marli glanced at the sun—Kayle, Pilori, and Kamilé (Everan was still absorbed in his book) stared at her, wondering how in the world she did that without even blinking. “When’s the ceremony?” she inquired. “Midday?”

“Yup.” Kayle shook his head, grinning. “You gotta stop doing that, Marli, you’ll scare the children.”

“Doing what?” She let her head fall to one side, genuinely confused—her pupils hadn’t even contracted—but no one answered.

“Do you think we should head over there?” Pilori asked, standing and brushing herself off.

“Probably,” Kayle agreed.

But it wasn’t that simple. Going over there early was a very smart, grown-up decision to make, but it was a little useless when every single other person had the very same idea at the very same time. By the time they arrived at the center of the square, where a simple wooden platform had been erected in front of the well, they were lucky to just get a spot crammed against the stone wall of someone’s house, smashed against an abandoned stall and crowded by hundreds of humans, merpeople, elves, and the occasional dwarf. They managed to get comfortable, their eyes turning with everyone else’s to the platform, on which were standing the seven Elders, a tough, muscular dwarf, Italis the Merchieftain, and Lina, the tall, pretty human. After a few minutes, one green-robed Elder stepped forward, holding an object wrapped in soft cloth in her hands, and the crowd grew deathly quiet.

“Welcome,” she called, her voice firm and radiating authority. That was about all Kamilé could tell about her, until Kayle bent down and swiftly swept her onto his back. Now she was at the same height as he was—over six feet tall and growing. She could see over most people’s heads now, and she had an unobstructed view of the high platform. She frantically beckoned Everan to come up, too, but he was way ahead of her—he had scrambled onto the ledge of the stall, and was standing behind her, at about her height. He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward to see better, watching the famous, traditional ceremony with her for the first time in their lives.

The Elder standing before the entire crowd without a qualm, a few sparkling teeth showing between dark lips, was around Pilori’s age, with long chestnut-brown hair, and something about her told the two of them that she was the Head Elder, the leader of them all. She held the package in her hands as if it was something of precious value, like her newborn child or something—and as if that child was a chosen.

“Thank you, all of you, for coming,” she called again, her smile widening. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to Kocha, the elven capital, and to the Ametrisan Unity Festival.”

“And she wonders why we just call it ‘the Festival,’” Kayle muttered. Several people shushed him.

“I hope all of you have enjoyed our preparations for today. I’m sure every single elf in the city is glad you all are here, and will do all they can to make you feel at home.”

“Get on with it, Srai…” Kayle’s voice was quieter this time, but he still got glared at.

“What’s her name?” Kamilé whispered to him.

“Elder Srai. Don’t let all this hospitality stuff fool you—she’s much craftier than she looks. That one could outsmart a fox, for sure.”

“…to introduce the leaders of the four races to all of you that don’t know them…this is Lady Lina, of the humans…”

Loud applause from the humans. Lina waved with a small smile, flipping her long hair out of her face.

“…Merchieftain Italis, of the merpeople…”

Italis nodded to them all, as everyone applauded; perhaps they felt, as Kamilé did, that they couldn’t help but like him. Sure, he was creepy, but really nice.

“…Lord Goba, of the dwarves…”

The polite applause was drowned out by a rough, deafening shout from the tightly packed dwarves, followed by three stamps of their heavy feet. It sounded like some sort of battle cry, or it might have if Ametrisans did things like that.

“…and the seven Elders: Arkai, Sariynn, Carn, Nheyii, Medilii, Roden, and myself.” Each Elder bowed in turn as she called out their names, and after that she bowed too, smiling at the crowd. “I am the Head Elder, Srai.”

Yeah, I know, Kamilé told her. Why’re you saying it again?

Everan told her to be quiet, which she did, as the Elder was talking again.

“Three thousand years ago, Ametris was blessed with a gift of peace and unity by the deities themselves. Since then, there have been no wars, fights, or disagreements of any kind…nothing more serious than siblings fighting over the last piece of candy.”

As everyone laughed politely at her little joke, Kamilé nudged Everan, who nudged her back, trying not to smile. I don’t like candy, he reminded her, poking her in the ribs until she giggled so loudly that several people gave her odd looks.

“This is a gift that, after the brutality and longevity of the Thousand Year’s War, we all should be thankful for. Through the efforts of our deities and the first chosen, Haenir, we never have to suffer through war and violence again. And thanks to the continuing efforts of the present chosen…”

Who’sthechosenwho’sthechosen c’mooooon, tell us…

“…We can live in peace for all time. When the first chosen…”

Aww, damn, Kamilé muttered, disgruntled.

They’re not going to tell us, Everan told her. It’ll put the chosen in danger, especially if they’re just a kid…

Why?

Because anybody that just didn’t like the chosen could get them, easy, and they couldn’t fight back, chosen or not.

Why would anyone want to do that?

Everan sighed and didn’t answer, so she was forced to drop it, the unanswered question retreating to the back of her mind in a matter of seconds.

“…Haenir returned to us full of knowledge, of the deities and the chosen, and shared it with us—he told us that his descendants would be our protectors forever, keeping peace until the end of time. He also brought us a gift from heaven—this.”

And, as everyone watched with bated breath, Elder Srai unwrapped the object in her hands and held it up for all to see.

The Heart of Ametris, Everan breathed, overawed along with everyone else.

It was the same symbol as on the little black pouch, but bigger; as Srai raised it above her head, it caught the light and shone like another sun, deep obsidian and glistening silver, an air about it of beauty, grace, and divine power. Every eye was locked upon it, glittering and shining, the very sun seeming to revel in its glory.

Wow, was all Kamilé could say. Wow, wow, WOW.

“This is a promise from the deities that evil is dead forever, that never again will Ametris Island be torn apart in any way. If you would all bow your heads for just a moment…”

Everyone did, and Srai started chanting an ancient prayer, one that everyone knew, even Kamilé. They joined her, their voices rising in unison to the bright summer sky, a beautiful, heartwarming, uplifting sound. Everyone in Ametris praying together, with one voice. This was what unity and peace were all about. And it was kind of nice, Kamilé thought, as she struggled to remember the words. The beautiful Ametrisan words floated around them and above them, the words themselves carrying color, light, music.

“…and your eternal will be carried out, our protectors,
From birth to death, from beginning to end.”

The prayer’s last note resonated like the tone of a bell, echoing in the still air…and then everyone blinked, starting a little as if awaking from a deep sleep, and after a few confused seconds, someone began to clap, and like wildfire, cheering spread among the crowd, whistling, clapping, stomping, and joyful shouting. Kamilé laughed, exhilaration pouring through her as she waved her arms frantically over her head, and even Everan was emitting an almost tangible contented feeling, a warm, golden-yellow sort of emotion that filled her up from the inside out. Sort of like chocolate, only it calmed her down instead of making her feel like jumping around—it was a sort of quiet energy that she liked a lot, so much that she didn’t think she could bear it if it ever left.

Luckily, it didn’t for a while; Srai called something about strawberries, and Kayle carried her into the crowd, guiding Everan firmly by the shoulder, Pilori and Marli following behind. It turned out that someone had tapped a keg of strawberry wine for the grown-ups, and a smaller one of strawberry cordial, only it bubbled and fizzed and tickled her nose as she drank it and made her laugh. Everan declared that he didn’t like it, but only after he’d finished two cups and shared a third with her, and she knew he was just being difficult. Why

heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart heart

As much as meeee~?

just don't hate me next chapter sweatdrop

Uh...no lack of plot...................definitely not that.


sweatdrop don't hurt me.

gonk

Just remember when I post the next chapter that YOU PROMISEd!!! *grabs flame shield*

sweatdrop

YEah, that'd be ironic. *doesn't go to details about THAT experience*

What about axemurderation? ninja

Hey, wait a minute...are you left-handed? Because if you're not I'm screwed. *terrifiedwhine*

xd

You know something? I have gotten the justb opportunity to say the phrase, "When will you learn that I'm always right?" at least ten times since seventh grade. >.<

YEshhh....having a twin must be superfun.

*wishes she was Kamile*