R. Anderson - Rebel

They were small in stature, like Garan, and like him wore their hair long. But the men were bearded, the women’s plaits coiled like crowns about their heads, and the solemn dignity in their faces made Linden feel very foolish and young. Who was she, or Timothy, to come before a great council like this?

“Lord and Lady Elders of the Plant Rhys Ddwfn,” said Garan, stepping up beside them. “I bring before you the faery Linden and the human Timothy.” With a bow he walked off to the left of the chamber and sat down, and only then did Linden realize that the room was full of faeries, hundreds of them, seated in curving tiers that lined the chamber on both sides.

“You have come a great distance to speak with us on behalf of your people, or so you said,” spoke up the first of the Elders, a woman with chestnut skin and a penetrating gaze. “Tell us, what kind of help do you seek?”

Linden took a deep breath and put her hands behind her back, so that the Elders would not see them tremble. Then she spoke up in her clearest voice:

“We need magic, if you are able to give it. Because my people have lost theirs, and now a powerful Empress wants to conquer us, and unless you help us, we will surely die.”

Linden did a good job of telling their story, Timothy had to admit-but then, she’d had plenty of practice. She told the Children of Rhys all about the Oakenfolk, and how Jasmine had used up all their magic on her mad scheme to “free” them from humans. Then she went on to relate all that had happened when she and Timothy went to London in search of more faeries, and what they had learned from Veronica and Rob about the Empress. Finally, she explained about the Blackwings coming after them, and how she and Timothy had been forced to flee the Oakenwyld and stake all their hopes on finding the Children of Rhys. But to Timothy’s surprise, there was one crucial thing Linden didn’t mention: the Stone of Naming, and the bargain she had made with Rob to find it and bring it back.

“This Empress,” said a broad-chested Elder with reddish hair and beard, “who is she, and whence has she come? This is the first we have heard of her.”

“I don’t know,” Linden told him. “I just know that she’s powerful and cruel, and that all the other faeries are afraid to do anything against her, because she knows their true names. So they have to obey her, whether they want to or not.”

It was then that Timothy realized what Linden was trying to do: She hoped the Elders would see the obvious parallel to their own history, and offer to give her the Stone of Naming without making her ask for it. But though the Elders all looked grave, none took the bait.

“And this Empress refuses to let her subjects associate with humans?” said the dark-haired woman who had addressed them before. “How does she expect the faeries under her rule to thrive? Where do they obtain their meat and milk and grain, their cloth and pottery, their books and musical instruments? Without human trade we would have none of these things, nor the skills to make use of them, and our realm would be impoverished.”

Silence. Timothy glanced at Linden, but she still looked crestfallen at how the Elders had ignored the obvious oppor-tunity to tell her about the Stone. Well, just because she hadn’t succeeded didn’t mean he couldn’t have a try himself.

“They steal them from us,” he spoke up, and was rewarded with shocked murmurs from every side of the room. “They pretend to be human, and lure us into trusting them, and then they take our creativity by force. But how are they supposed to know any better? Their Empress is the worst deceiver of all-she tricked all of the faeries into giving her their blood, and then she used that blood to find out their true names.”

The whispers turned into gasps, and many of the faeries sat up in their seats, looking appalled. “This is evil news indeed,” said a lean, blond Elder who bore a strong resemblance to Garan. “To hear that our fellow faeries have been enslaved against their will cannot help but grieve us all.” He turned his gaze on Linden. “Yet if this Empress is so powerful and ruthless, what makes you think you can resist her? Her servants are many, and you Oakenfolk are few. It would be ill done if we restored your people’s magic only to have the Empress conquer and enslave them, and turn those powers to evil in her service.”

“But the Oakenfolk aren’t alone,” Timothy said quickly. “They have allies-humans like myself, and my cousin and his wife. Not to mention a lot of faeries in the Empress’s service who would be glad to fight back against her if they could.”

“Yes, and some of those faeries have already helped us,” agreed Linden. “Even risking their lives to warn us about the Empress’s plans, and see us safely on our way. Which is why there’s one more thing I have to ask of you.” She clasped her hands imploringly. “Please-may we borrow the Stone of Naming, so that we can set them free?”

The hall went utterly silent. No one moved or spoke, but Timothy could feel the weight of hundreds of eyes upon them. The Elders exchanged looks. Finally one of them said, “You have given us much to consider, and we will do so-but in private. We will return when we have reached a verdict.”

Then they all rose and walked out, and the doors swung shut behind them.

As the murmurs from the audience swelled to a clamor, Garan hurried out onto the floor and drew Linden and Timothy aside. “You spoke well,” he said. “My father, Gwylan, is one of the Elders, and though he questioned you closely, I could see that he sympathized with your cause.” His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright as he spoke. “Perhaps it is time for our people, too, to take a stand.”

“What do you mean by that?” demanded a thin-faced faery with a cap of unruly dark hair. He jumped out of his seat and stalked down the steps to join them. “The Children of Rhys have stood for peace and justice ever since our forefathers first settled these islands. If the other faeries needed guidance, they had only to look to us, but they chose to go their own ways instead. If they have fallen under the spell of this Empress, surely they have only themselves to blame.”

“Look to us, Broch?” said Garan incredulously. “How can they? We leave these islands only to buy our goods and learn whatever crafts may please us, and even then we disguise ourselves and never speak. The humans know us to be generous, but that is all-and what can our fellow faeries learn from the Children of Rhys, when they have not seen or heard from us in centuries?”

“But we cannot leave the Gwerdonnau Llion,” protested a girl faery with dusky skin and wiry black hair who looked no older than Linden. “Not without becoming entangled in the very evils from which Rhys and our forefathers sought to deliver us. Surely you cannot desire that?”

“No, Rhosmari, I do not desire evil,” Garan replied with a hint of impatience. “But it seems to me that to stand idle while evil is being done is no virtue, either. If it is in our power to help Linden and her people-”

“Of course we will help them,” cut in Broch. “That much is plain. But what form that help will take is for the Elders to decide.”

“Is it plain, then?” said another male. “I am not so certain. What do we know of these Oakenfolk? Because one of their number has proven herself honorable, does it follow that all of them are so worthy?”

The discussion became animated as more of the Children of Rhys gathered around, new voices chiming in from every side. But they ignored Linden completely; even Garan was too busy defending himself now to pay any heed to her. All she could do was stand there on the outskirts of the noisy crowd, bewildered and a little hurt.