8. Amber

Chapter eight

Amber

R est was hard. Oh, my body slept alright, and my vision had this bucolic fuzziness that made it nice to just lay back and let my attention dance along the winding curves of the window trim. The wood darted in and around itself, over and over forever. Like a white pretzel. Or spaghetti. Spaghetti with skulls. I contented myself for hours like this, staring at the art while I floated in and out of sleep.

Unfortunately, my eyeball activity made me realize that I may never have pretzels or spaghetti again. Did elves eat either of those things? What about Mexican food? Did they have cilantro here? Or coffee? No electricity was a given. Oh, please, please let them have hot water. I wanted a steaming hot shower more than I wanted anything in my life.

And then there were my friends and family, and everyone else I left behind. Would I see Emily and Phoebe again? What would their reaction be if I told them that I did find a man—an elf king? See, Emily, that was much better than an accountant, or a lawyer.

My chest constricted. For all my failures, I would miss home. Terribly. But I had to work on staying alive long enough to miss it. And with my blackmailing husband-to-be, that seemed to be easier said than done.

Occasionally, footsteps in the hall woke me after the sun set, and Eldrin’s and Siliana’s familiar muffled voices carried through my door. Or was I just dreaming, pretending that they were there and watching over me, that I wasn’t as alone in this place as I felt? Or was I truly alone? Despite what Siliana told me, I knew better than to believe that I was safe. Despite how I wanted nothing more than to cling to Eldrin and Siliana for safety, who knew if they could even protect me from the king?

While I slept, with the city’s haunting music reaching into my dreams, I dreamt of a familiar shape in the shadows, and of silver hair and eyes that stayed with me in the dark.

“ H ow are you feeling?” Siliana asked me when I woke, and I rolled over to find her sitting next to my bed. Dawn streamed through the windows, illuminating a carving of a golden skull hanging on the wall. The music from the night before was gone, replaced with the chirps of small birds. A cool breeze worked its way through the open windows, carrying with it the fresh taste of fall. The chilly air prickled my skin, and I wrapped the blankets tighter around myself.

“Fine,” I said, groaning as I pushed myself upright. My head still hurt, my arm was stiff under the padded bandage, and I still felt that odd weight in my veins, but other than that I felt fine. Physically, that was. Mentally, I was still as tangled as Phoebe’s latest attempt at crochet, but that was another matter.

“Good. Eldrin is going to take you through the city after breakfast,” she said. “And tonight, you will meet the king.”

“Why…not you? Can’t you take me?”

Siliana gave me a kind smile, reminding me of a statue of a saint. “I would, but our king has ordered otherwise. Eldrin is responsible for your care over the next month. And for helping you become acclimated to living amongst our people.”

“But the king is the one who wants to marry me…” I frowned. “Wait, why Eldrin?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, but I’m confused.” I was hardly going to complain about having to spend time with a handsome elf, if I was forced to be around one, but Eldrin had barely spoken to me. Eldrin was also the one who had brought me here. Eldrin was also the one who made me have such complicated feelings. I had lots of reason to wonder why it was Eldrin.

“Eldrin knows the king best so he can help you learn about Vanir, and he is in a unique position to look after you,” Siliana said, though her tone made me wonder what she wasn’t saying. Especially since her knowing gaze told me she had a lot to say. People in this forest needed to start speaking plainly, or I was going to lose my patience soon.

“I…see.”

“Dress.” She motioned to a chair that had a long green dress draped over it, along with a silky shift that I remembered from a video on historical clothing that was meant to be some sort of underwear. “Eat. Food will be brought to you in a moment. When you are done, Eldrin will be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. Go straight down the hall to the left and you will find them.” After a few more pleasant platitudes and reassurances, she left the room, and thus I had to figure out how to tie on the elf robes on my own. She did offer to stay and help me, but I didn’t feel like having company. I needed a chance to ground myself before I explored this new world. I needed the normalcy of dressing myself.

I ate the bread with butter and fresh apple slices that was sent to me, along with a glass of some sort of juice I can only describe as “zesty.” When I was done, I left my room for the first time since arriving, trying to still my racing heart as I walked past elves who happened to be passing through the hall. They all paused and turned as I walked by. Apparently, red heads weren’t common here. I stood out, especially since I was vertically challenged compared to them and had ears as sharp as a basketball. But no one stopped me. No one bothered to say anything to me. But they definitely stared, and the stares weren’t welcoming.

I crept down the stone stairs, grasping the railing to avoid stepping on acorns and wet leaves and thus slipping to my untimely demise, but I managed. And then, once I was halfway down, I saw him .

Eldrin waited at the base of the steps, hands clasped in front of him, his posture as straight and unyielding as the trees around us. Unlike the conservative tunic he wore yesterday, today he was wearing brown breeches with black knee-high boots, and a gray linen shirt that was open at the top, showing just enough skin to catch my interest. My breath caught in my throat. What would it be like to rub my hands over those muscles, to be gripped by those gloved hands? Who cared that one hand was skeletal when the rest of him looked like that ?

And then there was me, trying very hard not slip and highlight just how un-graceful I was. I wasn’t particularly klutzy, but compared to elves, everyone was.

He raised an eyebrow expectantly when he saw me, and I decided I had to say something to him. Something that did not involve discussing his muscles .

“Are we going to battle?” I asked once I reached the ground, nodding towards the knives he wore strapped to his sides.

“Not intentionally.”

“Then what’s with the weapons?”

“The veinwart is not the only thing that lives in these woods.”

“Ah. Yeah, I guess knives would be better than a Stabby Tabby.”

“A what?”

“Never mind.”

He began walking down the leaf-strewn path, which was lined with young saplings, gesturing for me to follow. He didn’t have to tell me twice. What else was I going to do—let him wander off and leave me?

With little else to do during our walk, I focused on the scenery, especially since I didn’t want to be rude and stare at him. He slowed his pace, allowing me to catch up with him, and we walked side by side, allowing me to take in the sights of things that were definitely not from our world.

The palace we left appeared to be a massive network of buildings, made of bleached/whitewashed wood facades carved into delicate poles, like long apartments winding through the forest. The effect was as if the birch trees themselves bowed down and formed themselves into houses for the Woods’ people. While the palace had a foundation and lower levels made of hewn stone, that was not the case for most of these smaller buildings, which, as far as I could tell, eschewed metal and stone entirely.

“What are these buildings?” I asked.

Eldrin glanced at what I was gesturing towards and said, “Homes, for the most part. For people who are not well-connected enough to reside inside the palace, or who want more space than it can provide. We will see more modest dwellings the farther we go.”

“And what about those that are not homes?”

“Storehouses, and a few specialty businesses.” I should’ve guessed that people lived in these buildings. Elves of all ages went about their lives around us and ignoring us. At least, they pretended to.

A few minutes’ walk took us to a change in the city’s layout, and some buildings now stood alone, away from the bases of massive trees. Now there were also some that rose above the tree-tops and were wrapped around the trees and in their branches, their spires as white and delicate as the accents in the room that I recovered in. I gasped. I had seen nothing like this before, a city that embraced the forest like a treasured lover, one that was somehow both ancient with wear and pristine at the same time.

“More houses?” I asked, gesturing above us.

“Yes. Some elves prefer the heights, and the trees in this part of the forest can support it.” He was right—some of the trees here had trunks as thick as a single-family home. Not all of the trees, of course, but enough that they were a regular sight through this city.

“How old are the trees?”

“Thousands of years,” he said. “That one” ?he pointed at a towering trunk near the palace behind us? “was planted by my fifth great grandfather. And we are a long-lived race.”

“I see.” I did not see. I couldn’t imagine the passage of time that was necessary for a single seed to turn into something so monstrous.

We strode along a dark red cobblestone road, the stones worn from years of travel, and our own footsteps were lost among those of the other pedestrians who were going about their day. Each step took us further into a bustling market, though the atmosphere was still eerily refined, like each being was gliding through life as opposed to rushing through it, oblivious to anything but their ultimate goal.

It was strange to see elves doing things as ordinary as carrying food, talking to companions, and shopping at stalls. Yes, there were now lots of stalls selling everything from fall vegetables and pungent herbs, to rolls of brilliant fabrics, to weapons, and even things that looked suspiciously like dehydrated squirrels. I couldn’t figure out whether to focus on the wares—or the elves. Their movements were something other, fluid and measured, their expressions carrying the weight of years that humans almost never saw. Yet, here they were, living lives, guiding children, assisting the elderly, and working and tending to the million necessities of life. A child lost their ball as it rolled under a stall, and the nearby adults stopped their tasks to retrieve it and hand it back to the jubilant boy. A young male elf offered to help an elderly woman carry her package. These small gestures, the bits I happened to see, were so…human. Well, when humanity was at its best. I had always pictured the elves as sitting in their woods, working dark magic and lounging, with their meals appearing and disappearing with a wave of a wand. I blamed them for delighting in ruining my world. This was nothing like I expected.

But I couldn’t let myself forget that I was a stranger here, that I was not one of them, and that there were threads between the people involved that I didn’t understand. As we passed other elves, their eyes raked up and down my body, their faces unreadable. Once in awhile they turned and muttered something to a companion, or gestured at us. Their eyes said everything—it didn’t take a mind reader to guess that they were wondering what we were doing and who I was. More than one fierce scowl was directed at me, and even more at Eldrin, but I looked away every time. Eldrin never strayed more than three steps away from me, his hands near his weapons.

“Ignore them,” he said softly. “You are safe.”

“Am I upsetting them?” Did they hate that I was here?

“Everything upsets them. But we should not talk about this here. ”

I knew already from the news that there were humans in the world that the Darkening Woods originally came from, but I didn’t see a single human in this city. Were humans allowed here, back in their world? Or was I the first? Either answer left me uneasy. If there were humans here before and now they were gone, something happened to make them leave. And if I was the first, there was no telling what the elves could or wanted to do to me.

“I’m surprised it’s already fall here,” I said, desperate to break the silence with something other than crunching leaves. Though, it was nice how people gave us a wide berth because of him. A lot of the elves seemed to know him, which didn’t surprise me—he knew and served the king. I needed information, anything he would tell me, and the fact that he had saved my life told me I could trust him a little—more than the others here, at any rate.

“It’s always autumn,” Eldrin said. “This is the Darkening Woods.”

“But how…? Don’t the leaves need to be green at some point?”

Eldrin shook his head slowly. “No. Not here. Once these leaves are done, the trees will bud golden leaves, and the cycle begins again. And our crops aren’t tied to the season as strictly as the trees, but we grow what thrives in cooler weather. Back home we would also trade with peoples outside of the Woods, who lived in warmer climes, for our other needs. Death feeds our magic and our life, and in exchange we always live right at its edges. Including with this.” He raised his left hand, the one that was skeletal. How far did the skeleton part go?

“I…see.”

Again, I did not see.

“So, why don’t you interact with the other humans, or try? I mean, it would make the barrier less of an issue. You wouldn’t need it.”

He paused, seemingly choosing his words. “There is a chance that this realm will return to where it belongs. If it does, we all want to be here. And we don’t want others coming with. At least, not without an invitation.”

“It can ?”

“Possibly. It’s happened before.”

“It has?”

Eldrin turned to look at me, his silver eyes lit with amusement. “Surely, you’ve heard rumors of cities and peoples appearing, some disappearing. This is the way of worlds. In their way, they are living creatures. Nothing is stationary.” I thought of missing things, some real, some little more legends, with such a presence in lore that it was suspected that they had some basis in fact. Atlantis. Roanoke. Avalon. The Lost Army of the Cambyses. Not to mention so many individuals who had mysteriously disappeared without a sign and had spawned a plethora of late-night cable TV specials. Did all of those mysteries stem from the worlds fluctuating? And did that mean there was a chance that everyone who was lost would come back?

“When could it happen?" I asked excitedly. “This can all be undone? Really? How long does it take?”

Eldrin gave me a long glance, and I tried not to fidget under his gaze. He turned forward again before he answered. “That we cannot know, and we desperately wish we had the answer. So many traveled from our world this time, in so many differently sized pieces. The ones who arrived on tiny parcels, their lands may have already shifted back and no one would have noticed.” That I knew—some creatures had arrived in our world with little more than the ground they had been standing on.

I stepped along the road, which was slowly becoming more rugged, careful not to get dirt on my gown’s skirts. I couldn’t decide what was harder to wrap my head around—the conversation, or the gorgeous city. Granted, I hadn’t asked anything too prodding, but Eldrin seemed willing to answer my questions, which was promising. My eyes drifted to a group of elderly elves, who were using their tall sticks to balance, their movements so smooth and practiced that it seemed like the sticks were a mere formality.

And here I was, trying not to trip on my skirts.

“I didn’t know elves had children,” I said, watching two boys with the signature pointed ears play with a leather ball.

“Of course,” Eldrin said. “Did you think we always existed? ”

“I thought maybe you sprouted from mushrooms. You’re all so pale and waxy.”

Eldrin slowly turned to look at me, so serious that I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m kidding. But I am surprised to see them here. There aren’t too many legends about elves having their own children, and it seems like they always struggle to reproduce in stories.” A corner of Eldrin’s mouth quirked up. Alright—he found me slightly amusing. That was also promising.

“I assure you, we have no issues with having the children we desire to have. We are currently in our capital city, Great Glen. Families will live in the cities, and very rarely anywhere else—parts of the Darkening Woods are not safe for children.”

“Great…Glen?” I asked, frowning. “That’s a name that’s to the point. Shouldn’t it be something like ‘Greenfalafaliel?’”

“When the worlds merged, our language was lost,” Eldrin said. “We took on your tongue and lost everything else. It seems all we retained in our original tongue are our names.”

“Oh. How?”

“We do not know.”

Silence descended between us, noticeable, yet not entirely unwelcome. I didn’t think this would be a good time to offer that there were lots of legends about fairies and the magic in their names, since he likely knew all that and more besides.

Though we had walked several city blocks at least, tree roots the size of cars still lined the road, and buildings were wedged around the massive trees, many of them still lurking high above the ground. Everything was cased in autumn, from the leaves falling around us, to the floral motifs decorating the buildings’ fascia. Everywhere I looked were more leaves, acorns, fall flowers…and lots of bones. Once in awhile, what appeared to be real bones were used in the motifs, along with the expected carvings and paintings.

Despite the many people we had passed, their reactions were still much the same—awe, curiosity, and revulsion. In short, that hadn’t changed. Though now their dress was becoming simpler. We had obviously progressed to a less wealthy part of the city, where garments were made of plain, solid fabric and less embroidery, while shoes were crafted of sturdy leather. A group of guards paused their conversation as we passed, their heads rotating to mark our path. I swallowed. Hard. They weren’t exactly hostile, but there were no smiles.

“Do not fear them,” Eldrin said quietly, repeating his earlier assurances. “They will not harm you. I will not let them.”

“Do they want to?” I asked softly, ignoring the forbidden trill of pleasure that worked through me at the idea of him protecting me.

“No,” he said, but he paused a little too long before saying so. “This change has been difficult for everyone, and they will wonder what your arrival means. Our people were indifferent to humans, before. They only rarely passed our borders. And soon, everyone here will realize that you’re the one who is going to save us. Word will spread, and then they will greet you as their future queen.”

Queen. That was right—at least one of them wanted me as a queen . My attention roamed to the elf at my side, the one matching his steps with mine so as not to leave me behind. Who was he? Why was he doing the king’s bidding? What were they not telling me? There was the sense that much was still unsaid. For elves who were allegedly indifferent, their gazes told a different story. And worse, I needed that potion from the king. Yes, staying here was worth my life, but was there no other option than marriage? How did one turn down a marriage proposal and not anger a royal?

“Remember that my task is to make you as pleased about this as possible, so that your joining with the barrier will be true,” Eldrin said. “And for that, we need to leave the city.”

“Leave?” a male voice asked lightly from behind us.

We turned to find a young elf with night-black hair, who was around a half-head shorter than Eldrin. This one was dressed in a simple tunic and breeches and boots, and a healed cut on his cheek shone a brilliant white against his already pale skin. Simple clothing, yes, but everything was well made and clean—whoever he was, he had means.

“Oristan,” Eldrin said, seemingly unconcerned at our new companion.

“That’s it?” Oristan said, scanning me. “You have the most notorious guest in your care, and that’s it? ”

“I do. And yes.” Eldrin glowered. I tried not to cross my arms and betray how uncomfortable I was, but I took a step closer to Eldrin out of reflex. Eldrin had saved me once, apparently at a cost to himself. He wouldn’t let anything happen now. I hoped.

Oristan grinned, by far the friendliest reaction I received all morning. “Aren’t you going to introduce me? Your favorite friend in the whole world?”

“You already did.”

Oristan scoffed. “You used to be fun, remember? Human, did you know that he used to be fun?”

“No, this human didn’t,” I said. “My name is Amber.”

“Ah, Amber. A delight to meet you.” Oristan did a dramatic bow while Eldrin glared.

“There’s a reason,” Eldrin said sternly.

“Yes, yes. Reasons, so many reasons for being the most depressing elf in the Woods. Maybe come up with a new one?”

“Maybe you should come up with a new place to be.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m late for meeting Father. But I couldn’t exactly resist the chance to say hello, could I?” Oristan winked at me, and then turned and waved goodbye. “Best of luck, Amber! See if you can get something resembling a normal reaction out of this one. It would be more than we’ve managed lately. It would be good for him. Bye, Your Highness ! ”

I bit back a smile, liking Oristan already. He seemed to goad Eldrin and show a new side of him, one that wasn’t the stoic elf warrior guiding me through an unfriendly city.

The two of us watched Oristan walk away, until Eldrin placed a hand on my arm, guiding me along the road once more. His touch was light, but it felt heavy, in the way that it made every nerve sing. Wait, did Oristan say “highness”? I tried not to stare at the elf next to me. A member of elven royalty was my guard? Why?

I felt like Oristan was trying to tell me a few things with his little encounter, and yet he only gave me more questions.

And was it my imagination, or was Eldrin looking at me as much as I was stealing glances at him?

“Who was that?” I finally asked.

“That was Oristan,” Eldrin said. “An old friend.”

“He seems to like you.”

“Yes. He can often be a fool.” That last sentence was said in such a way that it didn’t invite further conversation. Eldrin obviously had some backstory, and between being a “highness” and the sneaky looks Eldrin and Siliana gave each other when discussing the king, it was obvious that there was a lot more involved in this than I had initially thought.

But where did I fit in?

Great Glen was larger than I expected, though in human terms it didn’t take up much space at all, maybe that of a small town. Probably because, unlike human towns in the Midwest, the elves didn’t hesitate to build up. Way up. And few of the roads were straight.

After around a half hour of walking we reached a place where there was more space between dwellings, and then suddenly we were in the woods, without a building in sight. As far as I could see, maples, oaks, and long-leafed trees I didn’t recognize—like willows, but a brilliant red—filled the forest. The weather was temperate, enough that I was comfortable in the light layers, but the air warned that a bite of cold would come at night.

“Are all the lands in your world like this?” I asked. “Seasonal, I mean.”

“No,” Eldrin said. “This is our magic, our bond. Other lands have their own rules, and their own surroundings.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Was that another hint of a smile? “The angels live in winter, in a place where they fly amongst the ash.” That I knew—there was a very vertical angel mountain in New Jersey that was so hostile that they didn’t need a barrier—the place’s natural winds and ash clouds worked as one all on its own.

“So, they are like Christmas angels?” I asked. When Eldrin raised an eyebrow, I explained, “Like, wise servants of god that are often depicted as musical or as babies with trumpets. ”

“Only if those angels brand themselves with runes and drank blood, even that of their fellow angels.” Nope, not even biblically accurate angels did that.

“Have you met these angels?”

“No,” Eldrin adjusted his hair so that it curved behind his pointed ear. “While they are far more open to other races than we are, we haven’t had the best relations. And they lived rather far away from us.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then, that they are far away still,” I said. Nothing about branding or blood drinking sounded pleasant. “Besides, I like fall. Do you have pumpkin spice?”

“We have pumpkins.”

“…Alright. That’s better than nothing. I think.” Pumpkin spice and autumn went together like cat hair and black dress pants. I wasn’t about to miss out on the glorious combination, that delightful melody of human tradition and ingenuity in beverage form. I was going to do whatever it took to be able to enjoy it here.

Enjoy it here.

There I was, already resigning myself to staying here forever. Damn, that spider bite was really getting to me, and in more ways than just the heavy feeling that now resided in my blood.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked. “They’re just letting us leave? ”

“This is my home. Our home,” he corrected. “And I have been tasked with making you desire to stay. You will never have that experience in your room, so I thought I would show you some of the beautiful areas of the Woods.”

“The entire place is beautiful.” And it was. Unlike the human woods, these trees and earth seemed to hum with something bright, something that made it sing and rejoice in just being. No matter that it belonged to them . No matter that every bit of it was edged with death.

Eldrin smiled, obviously pleased. “I’m glad you think so. But there is more to come.”