OVER ON THE FLOWER-STREWN sward, around the hour of noon, Yaarah wriggled vigorously in a vain attempt to scratch some unspecified spot upon his back, complaining, “Every time! Ever-rrr grrry time we discover a new species of Dragon, fur and fangs, they turn out to be twice the size of the last lot.”

  “The Shyraiama Dragons?” Sabline guessed correctly.

  “Flipping humongous!” he growled.

  “Bigger than Henzaroseflash, fur and fangs?”

  “Monsters! Gnarr! And why does Allory Fae never shirk from speaking with them? From Hyperdragons to stinking great Fire Raptors and Middlesun-hugging fiery Shyraiama brutes, she’s not scared of anything anymore. It’s not right. Spheris itself has turned inside out, I tell you. Mrrr-grrr.”

  Best not give him too many details about the Forestal Elders, then. He was in for a treat.

  Supersized.

  Allory said, “Yaarah, you know I was terrified of my own wing-shadow when we first met. Did you tell Sabline how you determined to study all my habits?”

  The sabre fangs flashed briefly. “All? I certainly hope not.”

  Blush! “Eep …”

  Leaving the Felidragons sniggering like a pair of cheeky hatchlings behind her and slapping their wingtips in self-congratulation, Allory flew up to find Amazas. The Elf had retreated to his hut to stoke up his Seer powers. Judging by the volume of snoring as he lay sprawled over a hammock in the wan greyish sunlight, his left arm dangling to the rush flooring, he had the situation well in hand. Old Elf. Had she ever met a creature as old as him? Probably tired himself out chasing those youngsters around the boughs – although, the Scintillant took pause, in her experience dreams had delivered wisdom, stark terror and attacks on the fabric of the world. Best not to discount his methods just yet.

  Instead, she left him undisturbed and drifted down to snoop on Ash and her man. Intense discussion was in progress. Peering at them, she decided those two were going to make some astonishingly beautiful children together – all signed with a flourish of various razor-sharp weapons and a raft of magical seals. In her Elemental form, their passions manifested as flickering bands of intertwined flame in shades of vermilion, purple and gold, pulsating and speeding up or slowing down in concert with their volatile emotions.

  “The information came from an impeccable source, as I told you,” Jhoranyal insisted.

  “How could they have known?”

  “Dear one –”

  “No, don’t you try to ‘dear one’ this issue out of existence! I have to know the truth.”

  “Please don’t let this come between us –” he offered a handsome grin “– when I’ve barely begun to acquire you.”

  Allory giggled inadvertently. Nice counter!

  Ashueli smoked away with a low scream, whipped around a tree, and returned with preternatural speed to stand before him, visibly seething. Interesting effects in the elemental aether there, a whirlwind of power which was likely invisible to her. Jhoranyal made a perceptible effort to control his fight-reflex, but his discomfited reaction probably did not help.

  The Princess groaned, “Aargh, my sap! I’m not angry with you, Jhoranyal! I am, but I’m not.”

  After a second’s incredulous staring as this illogic percolated and introduced itself to his befuddled brain as actual logic, he opted to spread his hands in mute appeal.

  She said, “I understand that your zharozviar cannot divulge their source for reasons of honour, and I value your trust in her, I truly do, but I just don’t … I don’t understand.”

  Gruff of voice, he said, “Ashueli, I believe I have been more than clear about my reasons for seeking your contract. How do my deeds not speak clearly enough?”

  “Jhoranyal, please.”

  He said, “Allory –”

  “Allory told you? That’s a ridiculous accu – oh – suggids. Sorry, Faefriend.” She made a frustrated swirling motion with her hand. “Just blowing off some Elemental smoke over here.”

  Both Elves turned as she approached through the air. Trying to keep a Scintillant-like figure was proving challenging, especially when her nerves interfered and her flotilla of sparkles started to behave more like a group of frisky Pixie pixels – apparently, the technical term was a ‘flotipixellia’ of pixels, according to a certain Felidragon scholar who simply had to ensure that the laws of collective nouns were respected – than a cohesive body. Hmm. Intriguing parallel, mind.

  Ash reached out. “Shh. What’s the matter?”

  So perceptive. How beautiful to be known so intimately.

  Allory flowed up her friend’s arm and gave her a snuggle in the crook of her neck. Softly, she said, “Thank you. I’m only nervous because I believe I know the answer to your question.”

  Ash immediately folded her arms. “Oh?”

  Ouch. There went the snuggle, evaporating as fast as her friend’s new Elemental body could turn to smoke.

  “You must tell us!” Jhoranyal demanded. He tried to soften his words with a touch perhaps meant for a Faerie manifestation, however his hand ended up passing right through Allory to cup Ashueli’s cheek. The fingers immediately twitched as if scalded. “I … uh … my regard for you, Princess –” he paused to say something peppery yet profoundly despairing in Elven, before correcting himself “– if I can only swallow this porcupine’s sense of honour for one second! My sap! Why is this so difficult?”

  “Because you’re such a man?” the Princess cooed, adding an outrageous flutter of her eyelashes to ram the point home. Allory realised he must never have seen her in simpering-simpleton mode. Quite the actress.

  Incredulous Dark Elf glare! There went the honour. Almost exploded in one millisecond flat.

  She clasped his elbow. “Sorry. Poor joke. Try … with due respect this time, try not using actual words, Jhoranyal.”

  How a girlfae thrilled to the way Ash enunciated his name!

  At the same time, the piercing blue of the Dark Elf’s eyes appeared to spark in their own right; a shudder passed through his frame as if some unbearable tension had been released. His strong fingers twined gently in her hair; leaning forward and down, he kissed her right cheek with such towering tenderness that – Allory almost leaped out of her sparkles in realisation – his action caused Middlesun to quiver with joy!

  Love moved Middlesun?

  “Love!” she squealed.

  The Elves leaped apart as if her outburst had set off a localised earthquake.

  “Oh! Oh, suggids!” Allory moaned. “I didn’t mean to spoil –”

  Jhoranyal breathed, “You – you haven’t. That’s the very word my foolish brain refused to dish up for fresh sap upon my tongue, aye. It’s love. This is love, Princess Ashueli of Ahm-Shira. I am an Elf who has never truly known love until this moment I acquired – until you acquired me, that is. Strictly speaking.”

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  His lips quirked into a winning yet vulnerable grin.

  “I – it was all … all part of a cunning plan,” Ashueli wheezed. Ooh, sparkly chortle! They had it so bad. “I’m just not sure, uh … whose cunning plan it was? Mine or yours?”

  Never one to let any issue slip between her fingers, clearly. Allory predicted more than a few sparks in their relationship.

  Time for a verbal lightning bolt. She peeped, “Clearly, the fault lies with neither of you. If I were you, I’d blame your Momfae –”

  “My mo – my mother? No way!”

  However, her shrill yelp betrayed realisation.

  When Jhoranyal queried the assertion, Allory said, “Who else would know the truth? Barakunal did not. You did not, Ash. Your father – Durc, I mean – clearly did not, or he would never have worded your contract in this way. I do not know Zinueli Sylvanchild at all well, but I sense the cunning hand of a mother herein. Why would she practically boot you out of Durhelm Castle the instant opportunity arose? She was more than well prepared. I conclude she must have laid the correct groundwork at some point, maybe via secret diplomatic or other channels? Perhaps, after all those years in effective captivity, to her this represented a kind of righteous vengeance – besides which, can we imagine that this stratagem might betray her true feelings for your father?”

  Ash inhaled sharply.

  The Scintillant added, “I – I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn …”

  “No, that’s alright … my Elven sap’s just all in a fizzle,” her friend rasped. “Give me a moment – or three or four. Phew, Allory. This is hard. Sap of my ancestors, it has to be her, right? There’s no other possible explanation …”

  Glancing between them, Jhoranyal scratched his chin and muttered, “You two see this as the honourable act of a mother securing her daughter’s future? It does not add up. How would Zinueli have guessed at my feelings for you, Ashueli? I acted with pure and perfect honour toward you all the while you tarried in Chor-Ahm Syliasa, despite my forbidden feelings and sure knowledge – at the time – that our disparate heritages disqualified us from ever being together. Indeed, I feared I could never be worthy of you. Now I know it for the truth –”

  “Never,” Ashueli whispered, gripping his fingers so fiercely, several of his knuckles made loud pops of complaint. She did not appear to notice. “You cannot be more mistaken. I do not care for titles or stations or even legal scrolls, Jhoranyal. I care for what you have signed upon my heart, and what I wish to sign upon yours.”

  The way she gazed up at him, Allory realised her friend could be debating whether or not standing on her tiptoes would allow her to reach his lips for a kiss. Failing that, a handy boulder? She could not be used to feeling short.

  Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. “My beloved … aye?”

  Powerful warrior that she was, the Elf did a very good job of acting weak at the knees. Certainly, she had mislaid the power of speech – as had Allory, for the extraordinary clarity of this new insight. What was the influence of love upon Middlesun?

  Love lights all of Spheris?

  Maudlin. Moving. Inspiring, even. How could she think like this, dancing between silliness and intuition?

  “Aye,” Ashueli finally managed. Her dark eyebrows danced at her reaction. “Plus, I do have it signed and sealed, all nice and official. The only thing I like about that contract, frankly speaking, is that it makes me yours – oh! Oh wow, did I just say that?”

  “Don’t lose it, now,” Allory tinkled.

  “It has been seen and witnessed by many! How could you even suggest –” Jhoranyal pulled up with a self-deprecating laugh “– ah, sorry. Humour! One of the true joys of crossing cultures. So, to round out this discussion, may this prospective husband presume that a dutiful Elven daughter may have confided in her mother upon her return from that season from Chor-Ahm Syliasa?”

  “Perhaps,” she returned, smacking him about the pointy ears with a coy sidelong smile. “My mother and I are very close. Naturally, we discussed the trip and my training in detail. There may have been passing mention of a perfectly savage –” her eyebrows frolicked again to emphasize her phrasing “– Dark Elf who went out of his way to take care of a nervous young Forest Elf who felt so very out of place in an unfamiliar setting. Nothing untoward, of course. He was the very paragon of honour.”

  He scrutinised her dancing eyebrows with a slowly widening grin. “Oh?”

  “Wouldn’t it be dishonourable to admit anything else – such as deeper, decidedly weak-kneed underlying truths, perhaps?” Her smile waxed into a weapon of greater devastation than any she had unleashed upon the giant Elven warrior thus far. “However, if I am to appropriate for myself only the handsomest prospective husband in all Spheris, I would not want there to be any secrets between us, not even for the sake of honour. Would this be acceptable to such a man? Could we make a … a personal pact, in this regard?”

  For a long, long second, Jhoranyal resembled a mildly startled crystal statue. Then, he breathed, “It would come as a … relief?”

  “A relief?” she echoed.

  “Aye. This notion meets my fullest approval.”

  A quirky smile to underscore his oddly formal declaration led to the couple sharing another affectionate moment.

  Soon, Ash said, “Sparkles, why were you squealing about love earlier? That wasn’t entirely to do with us, was it?”

  She had to collect her effervescence from the aether in order to formulate her thoughts in the right way. Was her mind quite the same? Had becoming an Elemental changed her mental processes, sparking new forms of trauma or perhaps, conversely, healing her fragile state of before? So much to wonder about. A past to dread. A future to hope for …

  The weight of her ariayaenvul was clearly still present. No change there, despite that it had no physical neck from which to depend.

  Whom could she trust, if not herself? Somehow, she must find a way to ensure that her personal integrity remained intact notwithstanding all these different, oftentimes competing pressures.

  Past pressures, present … future?

  Where did she even exist, anymore?

  Bereft of solutions to impossible conundrums, she knew she must answer what she could. Allory whispered, “Completely your fault, aye, but more a by-product of your interaction that led me to a new insight. Ash, Jhoranyal, the moment you realised your love – the moment you connected – that was when I distinctly felt Soul Blossom quiver. For want of a better word, she smiled upon you. She responds to love! I guess the reason people don’t know this truth is because the effect is very subtle, but I can prove that the reaction is real. Trust me. Sensitive materials by definition and all that.”

  “Hold on, Sparkles,” Ash laughed. “You lost us way back in the woods there. What are you talking about?”

  “Me? Huh?” she tinkled.

  Jhoranyal said, “I’m lost too. Who’s this ‘Soul Blossom’? You?”

  “Me? No way,” she giggled in ultra-soprano tinkly range. Oops. Embarrassing. “Uh – well, I sort of nicknamed … her. Middlesun, that is –” her companions exchanged bemused glances “– and isn’t it the most perfect name? Soul Blossom. You don’t like it? Oh please, tell me I’m not some completely crazy-sap, fizz-brained halfwit for saying so –”

  “You are not completely crazy,” Ash repeated dutifully, “but Allory, Middlesun … Soul Blossom … and love?”

  Suddenly feeling unaccountably shy, she replied, “I – I know it sounds simplistic. It’s ridiculous, right? Never mind. Just another silly Allory idea.”

  “Another silly – Allory!” Ash scowled at the Elemental quivering on her shoulder. “Listen here. Gnarr – grrr – snarl, snap – and if you had an earhole, I’d swat it. Understood?”

  “Eep!”

  “I do not want to hear that sound either. No. Rejected.”

  “Mean.”

  “Did you or did you not recruit me as your friend, girlfae?”

  “Suggids!” she snorted. “Considering our recent experience with contractual fine print, I think I ought to have been more careful before signing up –”

  “Harrr-harrr-hurrrgh!” the Elf chortled wickedly. “Too late for the Sparklemonster.”

  Jhoranyal put in, “Do I need to be worried at this stage? I’m confused.”

  At this moment Yaarah turned up at the royal elbow, purring, “Did I hear someone taking my signature wicked draconic chuckle in vain? What did I miss of this conversation, mrrr-trrrt? Allory’s offering to do your hair again?”

  Allory said, “I really ought to braid your tail, Yaarah. I’m sure you’d look even prettier than usual.”

  “Gnarr-rrrt a good idea.”

  Despite that he wobbled upon his paws, the Golden Purrmaine appeared to be in a determinedly good mood.

  “Allory was about to expound upon her new theory regarding Middlesun,” the Princess explained, tossing her friend neck-deep into the nectar soup.

  To compound her embarrassment, Hansanori and Varzune turned up immediately, inquiring if a conference might be in the offing. Xiximay, Zzuriel and Barakunal arrived barely a breath behind them … she sensed everyone wanted to react, to discuss what had occurred and how they should respond. They had all taken quite the beating.

  Underlying the comments, questions, querulousness and chatter was the simple reality of fear for the future. This was right and proper. Fear being a hallmark of sanity …

  For once, Allory did not feel like the foolish, fearful one in the cocoon as she responded to the Felidragon’s gruff query with a soft, “Aye, Yaarah. Let’s gather everyone – over here, on the grass. We should talk.”

  Quickly, the group took shape. Amazas was nowhere in sight, although an inkling tickled her awareness that the old Elf had more than a couple of tricks yet to play. A sudden stillness alerted her to the fact that all eyes were fixed upon her, from fiery to crystalline, from ice to … the shuttered gaze of her person upon Zzuriel’s back. Still so strange. So gut-wrenching.

  Drawing up her sparkles, Allory heard herself chime, “Well, what I see is a lot of sad, sore heads out there.”

  Startled silence.

  Suggids, diplomacy’s so much easier when I’m insulting Fire Raptors …

  Varzune called over, “Says she who doesn’t even have one? Come now, Allory Fae. I’m the resident master of bad jokes. Best start talking before I concoct another stinker.”

  Xiximay edged away from him, waving a hand beneath her nose. “Too late!”

  His fake-aggrieved reaction cracked everyone up.