460 Line of Fire

When I came to the marker, I stopped. It had been more than two hours, running ahead of the elementals, but I needed to give the Greywood as much time as I could.

It was simple; a dowel rod, thrusting three feet up from the earth. If you didn’t know what you were looking for, you could miss it.

I had a bit of dead branch in my left hand, and I touched it to the rod.

Nothing.

Were they here? Were they watching? If I had to go both north and south along the border, this would take longer.

I took the rod, slowly touched the ground less than a finger’s length on the other side.

SHWOKK! An arrow appeared, piercing the palm of that hand.

[You have suffered an ORANGE critical for x4 damage; you have taken 32 points of piercing damage; after armor, 24 points have been received. You have 12/80 health remaining.]

I cursed profoundly, but did not turn my head, did not spit. Did not put any effort into making my words into reality.

.....

I bit through the fletched end of the shaft, pulled the arrow through.

Pacing back and forth did little for the pain, and probably didn’t help the bleeding, but both eventually came under control.

“You could have talked.” I said in elvish.

“You could have started.” she replied.

“Would you have replied?” I asked.

“Probably not, but if we’re pointing out poor hospitality, you erred first.”

“Fine.” I said. “I accept that. You need to go gather every shaman or other caster capable of dispelling spirits. Specifically fire elementals.”

Ugh. Yes, that took several minutes of questions.

“Because special circumstances.” I said, holding forth the ring on my injured hand. “By this signet ring, I authorize any elf capable of helping free passage for the duration of this crisis.”

Did I have that power? Probably not. But my Truthspeaker Oath stayed quiescent (quiet), so maybe I had more authority than I had realized.

“And how many of these elementals have you or will you banish?” she asked.

“None, now.” I said. “My fatigue meter depletes as my health does. I’m barely standing; doing something stressful like opening a portal to the elemental fire is well beyond my abilities right now.”

“And why should any elf aid you, who aren’t even going to assist?”

“I’m not asking the elves to aid me, or to aid the Tidelands. I’m asking them to return the elementals home before they work their way through the Pale Wood into the Greywood itself.”

“Elves defend elvish lands.” she said.

“Well, tell them to hurry; the elementals aren’t being slowed so much as I thought they would be by the season.”

She snorted. “They are at least two days off.”

“I estimate twelve hours.” I said.

“Based on what?”

“When I left them, they were abandoning the linear formation to form up in a wedge, with more of them toward the center. They’ve pulled in the edges to intensify the point of what is becoming a spear pointed at the Greywood. They are burning less, yes, but they are burning faster.”

“A pox on you! You will stay here.”

“No.” I said. “I must return to the fire elementals. If this isn’t coordinated right, your kinsfolk will blame me.”

“You are not much liked, but our Spirit Wardens will have questions for you.”

“I am heading as straight back and forth as I can between here and the forward edge of the wildfire. Tell them to head away from the setting sun from this point, and they’ll be able to find either me or whatever remains of me.”

I turned toward my shadow, then, and sprinted. Damaged as I was, I’d be surprised if it was more than a minute at top speed, and then fifteen walking to recover.

I tried to keep that up until the flames were too close for comfort.

I sent.

An upright badger of flame with the head of a seal replied.

I asked.

It huffed smoke at me.

As if to emphasize its point, it waved a claw; where it was pointed, plants shrivelled, hurling off steam and popping as though already in the fire.

The tip had reduced greatly, burning a blackened path less than forty yards wide. Perhaps two thirds of them were at the forefront of the blaze, the others feeding off the back, inadvertently extinguishing the back of the ribbon of fire.

This is what I reported to the border guardian when I got back to her.

“There will be aid, though I could not tell you how many or of what proficiency. Some are not convinced they will make it past the stream that divides the western Pale Wood.”

“I saw this with my own eyes. Elementals taking to the air, leaving it warmed behind them. Starting fires on the western bank for their comrades to land in. I have seen a blazing starfish carrying what looked like a possum and a songbird of red and black.”

“Red and black you say?” she asked. “Then they are already weakening. Make no mistake, we shall be able to stop them here.”

I blinked. “You do not seem to understand; they are working as a group, not as individuals. They will be here within six hours, and possibly less. They have been told that the only way home is for the elves to send them.”

She shrugged. “One way or another, we will end the threat to the Greywood.”

“That is not encouraging.” I said. “I have never heard of such a gathering of spirits. If handled improperly, rashly, this could sour relations with elementals of fire for decades.”

She clucked her tongue. “I have told you what we shall do, and when; the rest is you listening to your own hope rather than to my words.”

Great. That didn’t help me any.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

“I am sitting down for a small snack and a quick drink of water. I’ve been trying to coordinate this for over eight hours, and neither the spirits nor the elves seem willing to accommodate the other’s viewpoint. As someone not the ambassador between your people and the spirits, I’m now taking a break.”

“So long as you and any filth you generate stay only on your side of the border.” she said.

Such a difference a few minutes made! I wasn’t refreshed, nor healed, nor any such thing. But it’s amazing how much stress left me at that time. If the elves wanted to ignore my warnings, if they wanted to go about this stupidly, even if they wanted to murder a battalion’s worth of fire elementals – that was on them.

When I rose, the long shadows were merging. “With the wind the way it is, you’ll see the advancing line of fire long before you scent the smoke. Remember, please, that anyone may cross the border into this area of wood claimed by neither of our nations.”

“A question, if you would.” she said. “In your own mind, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to set right a great and supernatural wrong performed by an enemy army.” I said. “I’ve not seen the least of elementals, but also I’ve not seen one greater in size than myself. They are children of their ... kind.”

“And you are a protector of children, are you?”

“I claim no such title.” I said. “But, as a child myself, I’m inclined to lend them aid. There are enough dangers children face in this world.”

“And did you protect the children of the awakened deer on our western border?”

“If you know of that, then you already know the answer. I could no more protect the deer from the minotaurs than I can protect these elementals from anything the elves have planned.”

“Say what words you desire; we elves shall defend our homeland. Sometimes, that is done peacefully. Yet often it involves a spot or a few of violence.”

“When do the first summoners arrive?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I’ve told you what I know. What do you know?”

“Tired or not, I have to check on their progress again.” I said. “It wouldn’t do for them to get lost in the dark.”

“I wouldn’t mind if they did. They sound like barbarians.”

“Aren’t all children?” I asked.

Wait. Had I been a barbarian? Was I still?

I pondered that question as I walked briskly back to the east. Their line had shrunk by half, their numbers... perhaps forty of them expanded the front. Others towed the weakened, even those who could no longer manifest a physical form.

But they were close, now, and the front still burned hot.

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