The Arrival

 

A guttural trumpet broke the air around them and everyone turned to the water’s edge. Looking up, Alithea had to shield her eyes against the sun. Atop one of the beasts was a curtained enclosure, and in front of that was a Fae warrior perched on the head of the beast. A cloth unfurled down the side of the beast and two Fae warriors grabbed the end of the cloth. The curtain parted and a slim figure emerged and slid down the curtain. The Fae warriors steadied her as her feet hit the sand.

Alithea looked to her right. The guard stood stiffly his right hand clasped over the left side of his chest. Behind her, the other prisoners had set their rocks down. Even the injured woman’s attention was riveted on this stranger.

Its feet were small and clad in a white covering. The ocean breeze tugged at the light garment that covered the smallish body. The pale blue of the garment shone with the rays of the sun. With one arm it reached up to steady a bonnet on its head. When it lowered its arm, Alithea noticed the different proportion of its arms to its torso. Did this figure belong to the same race as the creatures that Fallon and Drindl had killed at the cliffs? It seemed so long ago.

A Fae warrior handed a staff to the figure and it walked forward toward Alithea and the injured woman. As the figure neared, Alithea realized it was sick. Its face and hands were the only parts of its body that were visible. They were pale and had lost their fur. Speaking to the guard in short phrases,it strained to pronounce the Cawthingi language. Alithea glanced at Fallon, whose attention was riveted on the figure. What do you hear, my dear partner? Alithea wanted to ask.

The figure scanned the group of prisoners, the Fay guards atop the elephants, then turned to Alithea and the injured woman. It spoke in the same strained and broken phrasing, then paused. Alithea gestured that she didn’t understand, and the figure said something in an entirely different language as though speaking to itself. Oh, Fallon, can you understand? She glanced at him, then paused as he made the gesture for Sis-ah, the Faerie name for Altiss. This was the queen!

Copying the gesture of the guard, Alithea placed her right hand on the left side of her chest and gave a slight bow of her head. The queen smiled. As strange as this woman was, she made a People smile. She was not an animal.

She bent forward to inspect the damaged arm, then pointed to the tourniquet and Alithea, who nodded. The queen turned to the guard and motioned to the injured woman. The two Fae warriors came forward to lift the injured woman from the sand. Alithea motioned for them to be careful with the arm. She watched as they took the woman to a travois pulled by the giant elephant.

When the queen turned back to Alithea, a cross breeze caught the brim of her bonnet and it lifted off her head. As she reached up to catch the hat, a cascade of long blonde hair fell off the top of her head and flared out on the side of her head. The sunlight danced in the fine strands of hair that swirled around the queen’s face. The queen was neither People nor animal! What was she? Alithea wondered.

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Bending forward, she let the hair fall forward, grabbed it with one hand, gave a twist and set the bonnet on her head to capture the hair. She pointed to Alithea and motioned her forward. When Alithea stood she towered over the queen by a head. Sensing some protocol, Alithea bent her knees to make herself less tall.

When the two Fae warriors came forward to collect Alithea, she shook her head to the queen and pointed to Fallon and the rest of the group. The queen held up her furless hand to signal that it was alright, then pointed to Alithea’s arm and the woman on the travois. “Fallon, do you understand? I’m scared I will never see you again.”

“They will bring you back here before the day is done,” he said.

Alithea looked at him, wishing that he could accompany her and translate. “Surgery kit,” she called to him. “How do you say, ‘surgery kit?’” He hesitated, then gave her a two-syllable word that she burned into her memory before letting herself be led to the travois. As she settled on it alongside the injured woman, she remembered the water and turned to get it.

She settled back when she saw that one of the Fae had collected the container. After some gestures, the Fae warrior tipped the container as Alithea rinsed the wound. She needed her surgery kit. The tourniquet was only good for a short time until it created circulation problems in the forearm and hand.

In a few moments, the travois jerked forward on the sand. Alithea waved to the others, noticing the stricken look on Bebe’s face. Fallon, tell Bebe I will be all right, she thought. She noticed Alpen climbing the rockpile and approaching the guard with the whip. Oh, Alpen, don’t do anything foolish! she thought.