As if on cue, the elves, who’d been off heaven knows where, appeared at the edge of the street. At their head, the Elf King strode forward. Bright hair shimmered white as the moon’s beam where the sun kissed its wavy strands. The king stood taller than most humans in his path. Even taller than most of the other elves. His white suit, embroidered in gold, flashed. His deep green cape waved in the wind like some long-worshiped god’s banner. The other elves, dressed in finery, sparkling with jewels and gemstones, trailed their liege like goslings following their mother goose.
“He’s gorgeous.” Lila melted.
He was unbelievably beautiful. Strong. Hard. Cold. Hatred seethed inside of me as I stared at the horrible male. I looked instead at my little sister who held onto Mother, head buried in her collar. Heat crept up my neck as my hatred fueled into a silent rage.
The crowd of villagers in their finery looked like peasants covered in mud compared to the Elf King and his retinue. The elves made their way to the dais, a spear of crystal golds and silvers through a sea of homespun silks. The Elf King looked straight ahead, not deigning to look at any of his prey, but I noticed his blonde-haired servant taking note of each of us in turn. This year’s offering. A nervous energy rose through me with every smooth step that brought the king closer.
The mayor made his way to the front of the dais and raised his arms to quiet the crowd. “The time has come to send some of our best and brightest across the Falls! May your time in Ravensong be both enlightening and enchanting!”
The villagers cheered. All eyes were on the ethereal elves, especially on the tall, white-haired king in the center. Some cried, overcome with emotion at his loveliness.
Fools.
If only they knew what was in the elves’ hearts. If only they understood them as I did.
The Elf King stood at the foot of the dais and bowed infinitesimally. “Thank you, dear mayor.” His deep, commanding voice drew in the crowd around him like bread soaking up olive oil. I’d never heard a rumbling voice quite like that of the Elf King. Both of honey and venom. “Your people will be under my watchful care. They shall want for nothing.”
“Except freedom,” I grumbled under my breath.
I spoke the words ever so softly, but the Elf King’s eyes shot up and locked on mine, a flash of what looked like anger at the words. With my chin raised, a tear trailed down my cheek. I allowed him to see the pain etched there along the curving planes of my face. Let him see the lives he tore apart based on his love of a singular pastry.
The hardness in his eyes seemed to shift to something else. Soften. It was as if his entire countenance altered. I pulled in a sharp breath. Maybe he’d change his mind. I stared into his eyes, praying he could see my pain, praying he would let me stay. He opened his mouth as if to speak. I felt that connection again. As if some invisible string connected us together. Perhaps…
“We must make haste to the Falls before the Evergate closes,” the Elf King announced loudly to all assembled. He spoke to the crowd, but continued to hold my stare. “Let us delay no further.”
The finality of his words struck through to my heart, shattering any remaining hope like cracked sugar on the floor. The Elf King turned from me and strode from the square, his long forest green cloak swirling about him.
An elf servant passed the reins of the king’s pure white elk to him. He mounted his massive beast in one swift motion, then took off at a trot.
All eyes turned to the three of us as we were expected to follow behind the king. The king’s servant gestured to the carriage that awaited us at the end of a long path through the middle of the crowd. Air whooshed out of me, the sound of my last breath of freedom in the human realm. I took in a shaking breath of servitude. I would be a servant to the king forevermore. Lila squeezed my arm again, and I closed my eyes.
So it shall be.
I blew one last kiss to my mother and Daisy, offered one queasy smile to Sam, as I, along with the other village offerings, walked down the stairs of the dais. We passed the cheering villagers we’d known our entire lives to join the open wake behind the trotting king. Lila yanked on my hand, and I allowed her to tug me along, head held high. My tears were over.
I would not let them see me cry.
Let them see me beautiful, radiant, strong; not the frightened girl hiding behind the clothing of a man. Let them remember the joy they felt while eating my pastries. Let them remember the smiling girl from the bakery who always had an extra mouthful for a family in need. As I made my way through the cheering crowd, I wondered ifI’dever see that girl again.
Lila and I clasped hands as our things were packed onto the back of the elven carriage. The curved russet brown coach gilded in brass resembled a fantastical oversized walnut. We held our heads high as we took our last steps on the human lands and stepped inside.
4
AUTUMNAL WONDERLAND
The Elf King’s large mount kept a brutal pace. The three of us humans bounced along the narrow streets of our town in the walnut carriage, the clomping of the horses on the cobblestone the only sound. We sat on carriage benches covered in brown velvet, the sides decorated with an intricate burl wood paneling. From what I’d seen of the Fair Folk’s clothing and carriages, their finery closely resembled the beauty found in nature.
The rest of the villagers were in the square celebrating, abandoning us to empty streets. I knew my mother and sister were not among them. I wondered if they would make it out to the Moon Forest today to get the tree, or stay home and cry by the fire tonight.
Behind us stretched a retinue of about a hundred elves, all on horseback and dressed in golds and whites. White flags emblazoned with golden stag antlers bobbed along the parade like stately kites.
The three of us humans were all well and alone with the elves now.
I kept my eyes aimed out the window of the strangely large carriage, blinking back tears. Fleeting buildings and vast countrysides of undulating cotton fields and corn stalks rolled by. We passed dairies and tanneries, blacksmiths, and sawmills. Every scene was as familiar to me as my own brown curls. I loved our village. It was small and quaint, but the people were good.
I peeked over to see Lila’s eyes on the road ahead, as if she didn’t want to spend another minute in the village, in the past. The village was a good place, was it not? My home had been a warm, inviting haven, but as Lila had remarked earlier, not everyone’s experience had been as blessed as mine.
I stroked Lila’s arm, and she offered an excited smile, which she tempered as soon as she met my teary gaze.
