Elfhome

Spot tapped his shoulder and pointed off to the west. There was a faint smoke haze between them and the setting sun. Another camp lay beyond the hill. The path heading west from the crossroad seemed to lead toward it. Judging by the smoke, the western camp was probably as big as the camp just to the south. Tommy turned and studied the eastern horizon. Darkness was already spreading over the land and light from campfires in a third site gleamed off a haze of smoke.

There weren’t thousands of oni hidden in the forest — there were tens of thousands. And somewhere, down in the spreading darkness, was one female elf.

28: Tea and Crumpets

How do you fight your shadow?

Tinker sat in the courtyard, staring down at her shadow. Around her, the sekasha prowled, restless but silent as caged tigers. The wind moved through the peach trees, stirring the branches. She watched the play of light move over her shadow, thinking of Providence.

The dragons had somehow evolved two different levels of existence. There was the body that lived and breathed. Their minds — no, not mind — awareness? Soul? Whatever made up moral conscious thought — that existed beyond their bodies. Jin had warned her that dragon bodies could operate on autopilot without their minds guiding their actions. “Lights are on, but no one’s home.” It was disturbing to know that their minds could continue too, without the body still alive. And yet wasn’t that the whole thing with the elf cremation? To free the spirit of the dead body so it could move on to heaven?

She had tried to get details from Providence about what the Skin Clan planned, but he merely told her that she’d be fighting her shadow.

She held out her hand and studied the dark fingers on the ground. What did the dragon mean by that?

Shadow knows what you’re doing because you block the light, telegraphing intention. Actions cause reaction.

Tinker squinted up at the morning sun. Light created the shadow. The absence of light meant there was no shadow. Could that actually be counted as fighting it? Considering the dragon’s dual existence, what if the shadow continued to exist in total darkness? What if you could only see it because of the light? Without light, you would no longer be aware of the shadow’s reaction. But then again, the shadow wouldn’t be connected to you any more, and it wouldn’t be aware of your action. In darkness, a fight would become a two-way blind man’s bluff.

Tinker sighed. She was wasting time with the metaphysical. She would be better off dealing with science. Good hard numbers. So far, Oilcan kids were the only clue to what the Skin Clan planned. By now Lain should have the preliminary findings on the children’s DNA.

Of course, there was the small problem of how to get the information. Her cell phone had been toasted in the Rolls Royce explosion.

Fate was determined to reduce her down to the stone age.

Tinker stood up, announcing, “I want to go see Lain.”

“Are you sure?” Pony continued to pace restlessly. “Prince True Flame has taken many of the Wyverns with him, and all the other Hands have gone with Wolf.”

“And you are hurt,” he did not say.

“Since there is no phone here, the only way I’ll be able to talk to her….”

“Was if she came and saw you,” Lain said from behind Lemonseed.

#

Under the guise of having tea with her estranged (and strange) mother and aunt, a picnic tea was set up in the courtyard under the peach trees. Lemonseed apparently sensed the real importance of the occasion — she only provided teacups and assorted finger sandwiches for three.

Pony and Stormsong stood guard as Shields at the edge of the picnic blanket. Cloudwalker, Rainlily and Little Egret roamed the courtyard as Blades, keeping the rest of the elves at bay.

“I focused on the children first,” Lain whispered as she spread out the DNA scans on the picnic blanket. “All the children — the living and the dead — were related. They’re all distant cousins.”

“Are you sure?” Tinker frowned at the smudges. That was all they had to work with? “The Skin Clan spell-worked everyone. Could this just be DNA they bred into the Stone Clan. Look at Oilcan and me, we both look like Stone Clan even though we’re only like one-sixteenth or less elf.”

Lain sighed. “You have the intelligence to know all this, if you just applied yourself.”

“I don’t like biology,” Tinker said. “Blood and guts and all that. Bleah.”

Esme snickered, earning a hard look from both Tinker and Lain. “That’s what I said when I was eighteen and Lain tried to talk me into a biology major. Almost those exact words.”