Elfhome

“I’m using my own savings for now.” Oilcan said. “I don’t have enough to buy everything to open an enclave, but it’s more than enough to make this place livable.”

“What are we doing for sponsorship?” Barley asked.

The others paused in mid-work to look at Oilcan. He didn’t really want to talk about this now; it felt too soon. Still, they had a right to meet it head on. “Wind Clan is willing to give me sponsorship but if I took it, all of you would have to become Wind Clan.”

Their looks told him everything. Their clan was their last anchor. They’d been utterly lost once — the idea of being adrift again terrified them.

“I’m waiting to see how far my money will take us.” Oilcan tried to temporize.

“If you’re domana,” Cattail Reeds said, “Can’t you get funding from Stone Clan?”

He laughed, shaking his head. There were so many things wrong with that question, starting with the idea that he was domana. What he was, though, wasn’t the heart of the issue. “Even if the Stone Clan offered me sponsorship, I probably wouldn’t accept.”

“Why not?” Barley had given up everything for the dream of sponsorship. Obviously he couldn’t conceive of refusing. It felt so selfish to deny the kids. If there was only one or two of them, it would be a simple balancing act, but with five of them and Thorne to consider…

He knew, though, he couldn’t sacrifice his heart and not become bitter at them. “I was raised in Pittsburgh, surrounded by Wind Clan,” he said gently as he could. “I saw myself as part of the Wind Clan before my cousin became Wolf Who Rules’ domi. I’m sorry but I don’t want to change clans any more than you want to.”

“But we’re still a household.” Merry reached out a hand to him, imploring him to say “yes” with her eyes.

“Yes.” He gripped her hand tight. “We’re a household. We have money to make this place livable. And we will be able to scrape enough money together, eventually, to furnish it as an enclave. Let’s just focus on today.”

#

Merry had picked the bedroom beside his, so he decided that they would do hers next. They painted the walls the cheery yellow called “pure joy” the ceiling a very pale yellow called “lemon ice” and the trim a crisp white. Cattail insisted on painting Merry’s bed the crisp white and draped one of the fresh painter’s clothe above it. The voluminous canopy made the room seem a little less empty.

“Curtains. Paintings on this wall.” Cattail Reeds motioned to the long blank wall opposite the windows, then pointed at the hardwood floors. “And put down some sort of rug, it will look even better.”

Oilcan nodded, making note to add the items to his growing list of things they needed. The other kids only had mattresses donated by the hospice. None had lamps or bulbs for the overhead light fixtures and had been relying on elf shines. Still, the room was a hundred times better with its bright and cheery color than it had been with its pock-marked grimy white.

#

After their six bedrooms, they painted the four spare classrooms on the “family” level, the hallway and the rest rooms. It surprised him that Cattail Reeds and Barley settled on Merry’s color scheme for the family level. With the clean windows, it made the entire third floor a happy place.

In just a day, the children had become seasoned painters. They set up the ladders, opened up buckets, stirred the paint and laid out drop clothes without him having to give direction. Cattail taped, deciding what would be painted which color. Barley cut in high, carefully balancing on the ladders. Rustle cut in low, using his one good hand. He had only lost one paintbrush and his left shoe. Merry and Baby Duck rolled. And they talked and talked.

Cattail Reeds’ household made clothes for all the domana that attended winter court. “Oh the clothes are so beautiful that they bring tears to your eyes.” Cattail sighed as she ran blue painter’s tape along the wainscoting. “But the dresses are all basically the same. Show the charms.” She cupped her breasts. “Nip the waist. Train, train, train.” She motioned as if to an invisible train of fabric behind her. “But then the slickies started to come from Pittsburgh.” She used the English word for the high-end digital magazines. “Vogue. Elle. Such colors! Such beautiful fabric! So wearable!” With the magazines came rumors that the Wind Clan artists that had made their way to Pittsburgh were selling their crafts to humans. “Earth Son’s offer of sponsorship seemed like the perfect opportunity. I could open a boutique that caterered to humans that wanted a hybrid of fashion. Elf high couture meets human common sense.”

“We can still do it.” Merry said.

Cattail Reeds nodded. “I intend to once we’re settled and have more people.”

Barley looked slightly worried until Oilcan said, “Most human enclaves — we call them hotels — have boutiques.”