Elwensong  
                         Prologue
    "Keren!"
    I glanced up, briefly, as my mother's call filtered 
through the animal-smelling stable, then returned my gaze 
to the spectacle before me. The newborn black colt lay 
still for a moment, large eyes closed. Then he snorted 
softly and opened those eyes, black as a starless night. 
The tiny crystal hooves thumped the wooden floor as he 
began slowly to rise.
    "Keren!!"
    I ignored her again, being much more interested in 
watching the black unicorn colt.
    His tiny, translucent horn shone as he finally stood 
on weak, wobbly legs. (In contrast to a baby horse's legs, 
which always look too spindly, the legs of a young unicorn 
are dainty and graceful). Neighing, a sound soft and warm 
like sunlight, he took a step forward...
    ...and collapsed in a heap.
    "KEREN!" My mother's musical voice sounded completely 
exasperated.
    "In a minute!" I reached out a hand toward the 
youngster, trying to help him. Instantly his mother, Bayp- 
luvia, a huge black mare with a long sparkling horn, was 
between us. She stomped her sharp-edged crystal hooves on 
the wood, lowering her single horn toward my chest. 
Meanwhile, the little one began another attempt to get to 
his hooves.
    I backed up instantly, having no desire to antagonize 
the ferocious unicorn.
    Baypluvia, apparently satisfied I would not come near 
her child, turned back to him. She nudged him gently, 
whickering musically, as he stood again, swaying. He 
trotted toward his protector with hungrily questing lips, 
his hoofbeats singing like silver bells.
    "Keren Deerfriend! Come back here this instant, young 
Elwen!"
    When my mother calls me by my full name, I'm in 
trouble. I rose reluctantly, casting glances back at the 
midnight-colored colt. Then I turned and ran out of the 
stall.
    My shining silver hair fell in my eyes as I raced past 
the stalls of the brood mare barn, where unicorn foals of 
all eight colors- black, gold, white, crystal, flame, 
blueberry, green, and violet- were kept with their 
mothers. Horned heads peered at me over the stalls, 
affecting expressions from indifference to loathing. It 
always sickened me to see the hatred in the eyes of the 
great beasts.
    As I rushed out into the brilliant light of the summer 
sun, blinking after the darkness of the stable, I wondered 
again why my people kept unicorns as slaves.


                        Chapter 1
                        Punishment
              525 Age of Ascent, High Summer
    "Your best friend is a slave?"
    "My friend is a unicorn, Mother." I eyed my mother, 
Kaluri Deerfriend, uncertainly, not understanding the 
shock and revulsion in her diamond-shaped green eyes. "His 
name's Baypirror, a black unicorn, and he's really 
friendly-"
    "Friendly!" My mother spat the word out as if it were 
an insect that had crawled into her mouth. "Slaves have 
too little intellect to be friendly. They're dumb beasts, 
animals-"
    "No they're not!" I screamed, forgetting momentarily 
that the Elwen Conduct Laws forbade retorting to your 
parents. "Unicorns can talk, Mother, and perform magic! 
Just because he has four legs doesn't make Baypirror a 
dumb beast! You act more like a beast, sometimes!" (I 
don't know if I meant to make that last comment, but at 
the time it was peculiarly satisfying).
    What followed was not.
    My mother appeared not to comprehend what she was 
hearing for a moment. Then, before I could move a muscle, 
she sprang off the dais she stood on, snowy-white hair 
swirling around her. She had me by the arm then, and was 
holding me so tight I blinked back tears of pain. Her 
eyes, green as a springtime forest, peered into my own 
black-gold ones with furious intensity.
    "No son of mine will associate with unicorns. No son 
of mine will yell at his parents. No son of mine will-"
She hesitated, apparently searching for another thing I 
had done wrong.
    "Tell the truth?" I snarled at her. I should have 
known better, but, stung by her description of Bay, my 
best friend, rage was surging through me and I was out of 
control.
    I saw her slim-fingered hand coming at my lobeless 
ear, but didn't have the time to duck. Pain shot through 
my head, all the more anguishing because it was inflicted 
by my mother, who had never hit me. Involuntarily, I cried 
out, which got me another blow because Elwen children are 
trained to hide emotions.
    When she struck me again, therefore, I clenched my 
teeth and kept the pain and the hurt inside.
    Apparently satisfied, she flung me roughly to the cold 
marble floor and moved back to her dais. I lay there, 
cheek pressed against the stone, listening to her nearly 
silent footsteps up the white stairs to the platform 
containing her bed. I closed my eyes, knowing the folly it 
would be to move.
    "You may go now." Her voice, remarkable even among 
Elwens for its flute music, was calm again.
    Slowly, my head spinning, I climbed to my feet. I 
walked about three steps toward the golden door; then, 
with a sob of anguish, raced the last steps out, not 
looking back.
----------------------------------------------------------
    I sat brooding in my room later, gazing moodily out 
over the view of the Elwen city of Rowan, where I lived. 
My home was a huge, hollow sculpture of a silver stag, its 
forehooves tucked to its belly and its hind legs pushing 
against the ground as though it were jumping. My room, 
placed within one of the many branches of the antlers, 
allowed me to see all over the city where I had spent my 
decade of life.
    Rowan is mainly silver-paved streets connecting the 
giant silver statues of plants and animals that serve as 
living and working areas. The homes of the twelve 
aristocratic families- mine included- are the largest, 
towering hundreds of feet. Usually the others are only 
fifty feet tall or so. A silver fence runs all around the 
city, and the only exit is the Swan Gate, an elaborate 
portal masterfully carved in the likeness of a swimming 
swan.
    I shifted my gaze from the pristine but cold beauty of 
Rowan to the comfort of the wooden stable directly below 
my window. I could see all the unicorns, as well as the 
shorter-lived slaves- Lafoxes, lions with the heads of 
foxes, and Corocoros, white winged cats with the heads of 
sulpher-crested cockatoos- being exercised. Intelligent 
animals, one and all, and it burned inside of me to see 
the halters around their necks and the hatred in their 
eyes.
    Then I saw Baypirror, and the nausea was gone as 
quickly as it had come. Eagerly I leaned out the window to 
better admire the black stallion the groom led.
    Born just a year earlier, Bay had already attained his 
full growth- he was six feet at the shoulder, a head 
taller than the groom leading him. His crystal horn was 
six and a half feet long, and every move of the rippling 
muscles under his fluid onyx coat was power, pure power. 
As always, I thought his spirited eyes did not glow with 
the loathing for Elwens and the hopeless yearning for 
freedom that most slaves carried within them. He trotted 
as if the attendant at his side was the servant, and he 
was the royalty. Independence and strong, stubborn spirit 
shone through every movement, every word. He was a unicorn 
after my own soul.
    Softly, I called to my friend. "Bay?" I whispered in 
the unicorn language, not daring to use Aril, my own 
tongue, or Universal, the common speech.
    The black unicorn lifted his head at my whickered call 
and flicked his ears. "Keren?" he asked in the gestured 
and neighed speech of a unicorn greeting someone.
    I gave the appropriate response, and we set about 
conversing.
    "I think it's awful that your mother hit you," the      
unicorn nickered compassionately after I told him what 
happened. "Does it still hurt?"
    I raised my hand gingerly to the side of my face, 
wincing when my fingers encountered a large lump and 
sticky blood. "A little," I replied, though in truth my 
head still spun with the pain. "But it hurts worse 
mentally- that my mother could be enraged enough to hit 
me. I've gotten used to expecting it from my father, but-"
    "I know." The groom pulled Bay's unicornsbane halter 
just then.
    "Come on, you!" he snarled.
    Bay bowed his head- though he would never truly 
submit, he knew it was wiser for a slave to appear to do 
so- and then galloped forward, pulling his startled 
exerciser behind him in the terrific wind of his speed.
    I laughed out loud, releasing a lot of tension in the 
tinkling sound. As they reached the stables, the groom 
finally managed to pull the unicorn to a stop. He tugged a 
small unicornsbane whip from his belt and held it high.
    Faster than a diamond-shaped Elwen eye could see, my 
friend wheeled himself about and presented his sharp horn 
to the chest of the groom. "Want to make the acquaintance 
of this?" he sang in Aril, the language of my race, which 
is pure music and not really words at all.
    "You wouldn't dare." The Elwen's response was almost    
unemotional, since my kind is trained not to show fear, 
but I caught the slight shake of his song and the fact 
that he'd almost asked a question.
    "Waste the sharp edge of my horn on you? Never!" Bay 
tossed his head and pranced proudly into the stable. 
Before he vanished entirely, one large dark eye looked up 
at me and winked. His performance had served to cheer me 
up, to remind me that unicorns were indeed not dumb beasts 
and I had been right in saying what I said.
    When the pair had disappeared, I collapsed on the bed, 
forgetting the pain in my head, and laughed until the 
tears came.
    Wiping the silvery drops of moisture off my cheek, I 
smiled. Spirit, indeed, Baypirror, I thought.
----------------------------------------------------------
    After the laughter and the draining of the pain, 
exhaustion overtook me. I slipped into a dream where I was 
fighting against a violet-haired Elwen some years younger 
than I was. In the dream, I seemed to see his nearly 
neurotic black eyes shining with the intensity of hatred. 
I awoke with the impression of those ebony eyes lingering 
in the air in front of me.
    I banished the stupid dream to the recesses of my 
imagination. Yawning, then stretching, I rolled off my 
blue-quilted, moss-packed bed. Moving over to the mirror 
set in the marble wall opposite the window, I examined my 
rumpled silver hair and bleary, gold-flecked black eyes. 
After blinking a few times and smoothing out the worst of 
the tangles, I bounced over to the window.
    Evening bathed the sky in radiant colors of silver and 
heated gold. The rays, reflected a million times in the 
splendid houses and streets, filled the air below the 
purple clouds with shimmering glory. Everywhere, I could 
see Elwens returning from work and play pause to admire 
the majesty of the sunset. Unlike humans, we appreciate 
and admire our world- we don't lose its beauty.
    I felt a smile widen across my face. No matter how 
many times I might question my people and their beliefs- 
particularly the Elwen Conduct Laws- some things would 
bind me to them forever.
    It was part of being an Elwen.
    "Keren! Time for dinner!"
    "Just a moment." I lingered by my windowsill, feasting 
on the beauty. So gorgeous.
    "Now, young Elwen!"
    I sighed, cast a last glance at the swooping sun and 
its meal of colors, and then headed downstairs.
----------------------------------------------------------
    I arrived in the dining hall, located in the belly of 
the deer, just as servants carried platters of steaming 
roast duck and venison to the table, already groaning 
under plates of ripe fruits, white bread, and moon-yellow 
cheese.
    Pausing, I admired our large feasting room. It was at 
least one hundred feet long and two hundred wide, with a 
large fireplace on both sides and bright tapestries 
covering the walls. The focal point of the room was, 
naturally, the round silver table, where all the food was 
heaped. Three golden chairs- for the servants ate 
elsewhere- stood around that table, as well.
    I rubbed my complaining stomach, just now realizing 
how hungry I was. Gliding to the table, I started to sit, 
but pulled back violently as the Conduct Laws, hammered 
into me for nine years, restrained me. I'd already broken 
one- two- today, I didn't need to break any more. And the 
Laws said not to sit down at the table first if you were 
under thirty (school age).
    My knuckles turned white as I gripped the back of my 
chair, anxiously glancing at the doors. Where were they?
    To the Four Moons with the Conduct Laws, I thought 
finally, and was moving around to sit down and attack the 
food, when my parents glided in through the door.
    My mother slid in first, looking for all the world 
like a white-haired lioness pacing before her mate. Pride, 
queenliness, and love for her family made her resemblance 
to that tawny animal almost impossible to ignore. But, 
does a lioness have the relentless zeal to track down 
criminals in her green eyes?
    I think not.
    My father, Alicalor Deerfriend, came next, his 
sea-green tunic and buckskin leggings clearly showing the 
action of his powerful muscles. Even from here, I could 
detect the puffiness of his black-gold eyes, so like my 
own, the rumpled condition of his shining silver hair, and 
the beery smell of his breath.
    I dropped my eyes, lest my father see the rage in 
them. Although I really despise the practice of concealing 
emotions like anger, that training stood me in good stead 
now. It would never do to let my dad know the fury and 
fear he inspired in me.
    And I was- afraid.
    "Well met, Father, Mother," I sang, nodding to them, 
being careful to show only cheerfulness in my silvery song 
of greeting. "It's time to eat so soon?"
    "Yes, Keren, my child." My mother's sweet warble had 
me clenching my teeth. I hate being called a kid! 
Oblivious, my mother went on. "Isn't it nice that your 
father could come home for dinner?"
    I nodded a second time, keeping my eyes on my plate. 
No, it isn't nice at all, I thought, but even I wasn't 
reckless enough to speak that aloud. Two punches a day are  
enough, thank you.
    My father belched, causing me to wince. "Well, Kaluri, 
dear," he said jovially, the music of his voice marred by 
his earlier 'meal', "let's eat!"
    My parents pulled out their chairs and sat down, my 
mother motioning me to do the same. Finally! I dropped 
into my seat and began eagerly to eat the (cold) roasted 
duck some kind servant had set on my plate.
    I was so hungry, I ate my portion of the duck and two 
pieces of fruit before my parents finished saying grace to 
Suulta, goddess of the Elwens.
    "Keren!" my mother exclaimed, but I could see, from 
the amusement in her eyes, that she was not really angry.
    I shrugged, tearing wolfishly at some bread. "I'm 
hungry."
    Unfortunately, my father didn't share my mother's 
point of view.
    "No son of mine will eat like a unicorn!" he bellowed. 
His eyes showed no fury, but his tone told me all I needed 
to know.
    My eating slowed to a more regular pace, but the 
minute he was looking away, I snapped a smoldering glance 
at him.
    The rest of the meal passed in silence; then my father 
pushed back chair and platter and belched. With casual 
caution, I stood up and began to creep toward the western 
door, the one I had come in by.
    "Keren!"
    My father's voice froze me. Slowly, I turned around. 
"Yes, Father?" I replied, my notes shaking in spite of all 
I could do to prevent it.
    "Your mother tells me you have a- friend."
    I shook, but my chin snapped up. I forced myself to 
stare into his blurred eyes, suppressing the sickness and 
revulsion that made me want to retch. I wouldn't let 
Baypirror go undefended. "Yes," I sang, crossing my arms 
over my chest and letting him see the defiance of his 
authority his drinking had inspired in me. "You wish to 
make something of it?"
   "No," my father said slowly, and this time he hid his 
emotion so well I could not understand what he was 
feeling. Anger? Puzzlement? He continued, "I have no 
objections..."
    No objections! My heart soared.
    "...so long as, when you reach school age, you study 
to become an instrument crafter."
    My gape must have confused him. because he clarified, 
"A bargain. I think that's fair, don't you?" He smiled at 
me- one of the few times he'd ever done so- as though he 
were offering me the deal of the millennium.
    Bargain? For friendship? My parents knew I wanted them 
to like the idea of my relationship with Baypirror, but 
they didn't know that, regardless of whether they approved 
or not, I'd go right on being the black unicorn's friend. 
Therefore, they couldn't bargain me out of my true 
ambition- to become a warrior- by offering that approval.
    Letting out a deep breath, I spoke my true beliefs 
(something Elwens don't generally do if their beliefs 
contradict the Laws). "You can't bargain for friendship. 
No."
    My father's eyes bugged out. He blinked rapidly, as if 
salt water had gotten into his pupil. "NO? You can't say 
no, young Elwen! You don't have a choice."
    I felt my face flush. My hands, folded across my 
chest, began to tremble. I noticed my mother watching us 
anxiously, but couldn't care less. My entire mind was 
taken up with my father's damning statement.
    "No choice?" My words came out in an indecipherable, 
snarling music. I repeated them, louder. "No choice? I 
most certainly do have a choice! I can have friends 
without your magicked approval!"
    It was the first time I ever swore in front of my 
parents. It gave me a strange feeling of guilt, but of 
pride, too.
    My parents didn't feel quite the same way.
    My mother said nothing, just widened her eyes a 
little.
    Father, however, took one step forward, seized the 
scruff of my neck and the back of my forest-green tunic, 
and swung me into the air, until I was at his face level. 
I nearly swooned from the horrible foulness of his beer- 
breath and my revulsion at the sight of his puffy face.
    "Listen here, young Elwen-"
    My control snapped. I felt a sort of barrier in my 
brain that held back the rage split, and it all came 
flooding out.
    "Young!" I shouted in his face. "I'm not a child 
anymore! You're pretty young yourself- twenty-five hundred 
years isn't old for an Elwen! In fact, because you're 
drinking, you act more like a baby then I do sometimes. 
You may be young, but you're old enough that your mind is 
wandering!"
    No sooner had I sung the last remark than I felt all 
those little alarm bells go off in my head- the alarms 
that tell you when you have pushed a person too far.
    Warned, I could, therefore, duck the first punch, 
aimed at my ear. But then his fist turned, slamming into 
my jaw, setting off alarms of anguish and searing pain. 
Still shaking off the shock of that, I wasn't prepared for 
the deceptively swift cuts that followed- cuts that closed 
my eyes, numbed my hands, bruised my throat, puffed my 
lips up, had my nose bleeding and my eardrums nearly 
burst. Agony such as I had never imagined.
    Writhing in pain, I got a lucky kick at his groin. 
Dimly I heard him groan, and then his fist crashed into my 
mouth again. Blood was unleashed, and I heard a tinkle- 
one of my teeth falling to the floor. Pain took me, 
engulfed me, ripped me with fiery claws. I barely felt his 
head slamming into my stomach or the kick to my kneecap. 
Finally he found the pressure point in my right wrist and 
pressed it mercilessly. I dropped into a darkness where 
there was only pain. Red flashed in front of my eyes, and 
my consciousness leaped, soaring away on crippled wings.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Slowly, oh so slowly, the darkness lifted. I was lying 
in my bed, I knew that much. But I could only see a little 
through the pain of my blackened eyes. My hearing was 
still dim, for my ears were stunned with blows and with 
blood. Then a cool hand touched my forehead.
    I rotated my head toward the touch, and now I could 
hear faint breathing from the same direction. "Mother?" I 
whispered, immediately wishing I hadn't.
    White-hot pain sprang through my jaw, guiding my 
awareness into agony. Somehow managing to concentrate 
through the silent screams, I knew that my jaw was 
fractured.
    "Hush, Keren." It was indeed my mother's voice that 
reached me, slipping through the haze of anguish. "Don't 
try to talk, my son. Shhhh."
    "Why?" I croaked somehow, past the ache in my jaw. 
"Why did he abuse me like that?"
    "Oh, Keren, don't think about it. He's sorry now."
    "Don't think about it?" My fury reared up again like a 
wild horse, batting even the soreness away with forehooves 
of hatred. "How can I help but think about it? My jaw is 
fractured, my nose is bleeding, I can hardly breathe, see, 
hear, or feel. What else am I supposed to think about?"
    "He's sorry-"
    I spat over the side of the bed.
    "Keren!"
    "Mother!" I mimicked her warble. "What am I supposed 
to do, forgive him?"
    "He's forgiven you for saying what you said, and for 
breaking the Conduct Laws. Don't you think you should 
return the favor?"
    That did it.
    My whole body was on fire with loathing and anger. I 
screamed at my mother, for the second time in a short 
while.
    "FAVOR? He would have done me a greater favor by never 
having fathered me! I hate him."
    Now Kaluri's voice took on the edge of desperation. 
"Oh, Keren, don't say that! Please don't say that!"
    Instead of responding, I subdued my emotions, rolled 
over, and closed my eyes.
    I didn't care what she said.
    I hated my father.




                        Chapter 2
                         Cuthri
             525, Age of Ascent, Late Summer
    My injuries were a long time in healing. Alicalor had 
been thorough, and it took six days before I could see 
with any semblance of normality. My numbed hands and my 
ears recovered soon after. However, it was only after two 
weeks had passed since my beating that I could sleep 
through the night without being awakened by a nosebleed.
    My other hurts were something else again. My mother 
took me to the clerics of Suulta, who healed my jaw fast 
enough. Worse then the physical pain, though, was 
something they could not heal- the pain in my heart.
    This injury troubled me for a month afterwards- giving 
me troubling nightmares, making me sob in corners, and 
otherwise stealing the joy I usually found in life. Deep 
into late summer, I managed to lessen the ache- but not to 
find joy.
    Whenever I saw a sunset, it reminded me of blood. I 
saw tears falling when it rained. And the thousands of 
countless stars that twinkled at night were no more than 
the eyes that cried the tears and shed the blood. I didn't 
run with a bounce in my step any more; I could barely 
remember what it felt like to laugh. My father had handled 
my spirit like a small child would handle a toy- breaking 
it, and casting it aside. Even Bay couldn't cheer me up.
    And yet, I did laugh again.
    And it was entirely due to Cuthri.
----------------------------------------------------------
    I was brooding in my bedroom, gazing out the window, 
when I noticed that the trees were slowly beginning to 
turn gold. It looks like pus, I thought, but inwardly I 
was excited just a little. The changing of the trees meant 
the Goldentime Festival wasn't far away.
    Goldentime- what we called that momentous morning 
every year when Arcadia's sky, blue in summer, turned 
golden, signaling the start of the fall. There were three 
other times in the year when it changed color- Whitefall 
at the beginning of winter, Greensong in spring, and 
Bluedance in summer- but none other, to an Elwen's way of 
thinking, was as beautiful. Our biggest festival starts 
that morning, and it goes on for the whole month, finally 
petering out in Fallchill, the next month.
     Yes, even I could look forward to Goldentime.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The days cycled past, with no noticeable change- other 
than in the weather, and in myself. I was growing more and 
more excited about the festival, and this helped combat 
the pain that still remained from the beating at the hands 
of my father.
    Bay noticed it, too.
    "You seem to be feeling better," he remarked 
encouragingly when I was visiting him in his stall during 
the last week of summer. "You finally recovering from what 
that beast of a father of yours did to you?" 
Involuntarily, he stomped a hoof on the straw-littered 
floor. When he'd seen what had happened to me, he'd gone 
absolutely berserk, and it took two grooms- and my words- 
to restrain him from charging into the house and impaling 
my father on his horn.
    I flinched, also involuntarily, from being reminded 
about the past. "Yes," I managed to say. "I've- gotten 
used to it. And, I think he is sorry."
    Baypirror stomped again, but didn't comment.
    I smiled, and put my hand on my friend's velvety neck. 
"Are you going to be working at the festival?" I sang to 
change the subject. A strand of silver hair fell in my 
eyes, and I irritably flicked it out of the way, then 
continued. "Because, if you are, I just might find a way 
to- ah- convince your groom that I need you for a while."
    Baypirror's bugle-like laughter danced through the 
stable, causing several unicorns to lift their horned 
heads. "I'm sure you could! A couple of wirthas can be 
very- ah- convincing."
    "And once you're free, we can go around the fair and 
enjoy it as we should- two friends, not a slave and a 
master." The intensity of my own voice surprised me.
    Bay nuzzled my shoulder with his ebon nose. "Hey," he 
said lightly, "if I hadn't been born here, we'd never have 
been friends."
    "I know. But slavery's wrong. Why can't my mother, my 
thickheaded father, and the others see that?"
    "I don't know." Bay's lilac-sweet breath stirred my 
hair as he rested his chin on the top of my head, and I 
stood on my toes to hug him around the neck. "But at least 
we have each other."
    Somehow, that didn't seem quite enough.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Finally!
    Tingling with anticipation, I leaned out my window, my 
eyes fixed on the distant horizon beyond the confinement 
of the city. As soon as the sun rose, the sky would turn 
to a vault of liquid gold.
    The last week had been hectic, as all over the city 
preparations were made for the greatest celebration of the 
year. Tents were raised, booths were set up, and people- 
mostly wandering Elwens who normally chose to live outside 
the established cities, with a few free unicorns and even 
a human or two- poured in through the Swan Gate. I was 
excited about meeting all of them, particularly the 
travelers not of my race. Why had they come all the way to 
an Elwen city? To trade, for the food, because they were 
curious, or simply for the heck of it?
    I wanted to find out.
    Besides, there would be games to play, food to eat, 
plays to watch, contests to win, races to run, hikes to 
take- not to mention that memorable moment itself, when 
the sky turned gold, and the hylea trees sang.
    I was sharply shaken from my reverie by the tinge of 
silver and gold along the horizon. Leaning so far forward 
I nearly tumbled out the window, I sang under my breath, 
"Get on with it!"
    And, perhaps, the strange combination of nature and 
magic that rules Arcadia heard me. Who knows?
    At any rate, it got on with it.
    With startling abruptness, the flaming orb crested the 
horizon. Its rays poured through the blue sky....
    ...that was suddenly blue no longer. As if the rays 
carried yellow warmth with them, the air turned tawny 
where they passed. It was a strange spectacle to watch, 
for the heavens, half-blue and half-yellow for the merest 
of seconds, looked like a giant painting by some artist 
more concerned with vibrant colors than a subject. Then 
the gold radiated outward, the sapphire vanishing before 
its steady path, and the firmament glowed with 
sunbeam-colored light. Against it, the sun was merely a 
paler patch of yellow, looking like a moving piece of the 
sky.
    Joy laughed through my being with clarity for the 
first time since high summer. I heard myself singing, but 
not in Aril- it was simply a stream of overjoyed notes 
that made no sense whatsoever, except perhaps in the 
language of happiness. Over the city I could hear my song 
being echoed, mixed with laughter and screams of delight. 
Perhaps, I thought, it's an instinctive part of an Elwen's 
soul to cry out at the sight of such beauty.
    Then the rational part of my mind had to leave on 
rivers of delight as I heard the hylea trees begin to 
sing. The one right below my window, which normally looks 
like a rowan tree, opened its lace-delicate yellow 
blossoms as though drinking in the sunlight, quivered, and 
began to send its unbearably sweet call tumbling through 
the morning. Music that was, it seemed, the essence of the 
joyful autumn birth, rode into the sky on currents of wind
and fluttered its notes like butterflies around the mute 
trees. Desperately I listened to the haunting, 
indescribable tune, trying to remember- but the song of a 
hylea is not to be caught in the traps of the mind. When 
it faded away, an hour after sunrise, I regretted the time 
as too short.
    Then the regret, too, left, spirited away on the last 
breaths of the painfully sweet song. I was too happy now 
to be sad.
    Goldentime awaited.
    Whooping and hollering, I raced down the steps, 
skidding throw rugs in all directions, slid across the 
floor of the dining hall, bounded like a rabbit through 
one of the round windows, skipped down the ladder as 
though it were a flat floor, and dashed pell-mell across 
the garden to the gate. All over the city, other Elwens 
were doing the same things. The silver streets were filled 
with a torrent of joyous people.
    It was autumn!
----------------------------------------------------------
    Soon I reached Aril Street, where the main part of the 
fair was set up. Everywhere I could see merchants selling 
their wares, guides lining up people for tours, Elwens 
staring curiously at exotic caged animals, plays, or 
sideshows.
    In short, fun.
    I trotted up to the first Elwen I saw, a brightly 
costumed merchant with a long silver cape and a wild, 
sky-blue mane of hair. He was hawking hawks- fierce 
raptors of every color and description, crouched in small 
cages. They held their heads under their wings and made 
not a sound.
    I felt my jaw setting itself and my eyes narrowing. My 
head knew that what I was going to do was wrong, but my 
heart didn't care. And, I thought, an Elwen can't defy his 
heart.
    I waited until the merchant was looking the other way, 
then opened the nearest of the silver cages and gently 
scooped up the falcon inside.
    The bird pulled its head out, spread its wings, and 
arrowed off into the golden sky.
    By now several birds were watching me. When I opened 
their doors, they sprang out and flapped high over my 
head, shooting toward freedom. I glanced up warily, but 
the merchant had been called away. Good, I thought.
    I was safely secluded in an alleyway by the time the 
merchant returned. His words on seeing his stall of empty 
silver cages were not the most complimentary in the world, 
I thought as I skipped through the alley to Lavarol 
Avenue. But then, it isn't complimentary to keep a wild 
thing captive either.
    I was pretty pleased with myself when I reached 
Lavarol, subduing the stupid little voice that said I was 
going to get in trouble if anybody found out. Nobody would 
find out, so there! I thought.
    I rounded a corner, and, noticing a large crowd of 
Elwens and unicorns around a wooden platform, went to 
investigate.
    Squeezing through the bigger people was a tough job, 
but I finally managed to get to the front of the crowd... 
and began to gape in wonder.
    On the platform was an Elwen about my age, with silver 
hair like mine and green eyes like my mother's. He was 
balancing on top of a ball of pure silver, twirling a 
baton in each hand. His head was tilted back, because you 
have to do that in order to balance a bucket of water on 
your forehead. At the same time, he danced on top of the 
ball, in perfect rhythm with the lute-like notes coming 
from his mouth. This is what he sang:

               "Come on everybody, gather round,
                See the greatest act in town.
                Ever seen anything like this?
                Somehow, I doubt it!

                Please don't leave, please don't go,
                Before you see the best part of the show.
                And, hey, if you don't think I'm funny,
                All you have to do is give me some money."

    I chuckled at the light-hearted notes, so full of joy 
and hopeful mischievousness. My sound turned midway into a 
gasp of awe.
    For the boy had suddenly tossed his batons into the 
air, leaped off the ball, and tucked into a somersault. 
The bucket fell, but he hit it with his hand so that the 
water splashed over the silver ball. When he came down 
again, he gripped the slick silver with his feet, caught 
both batons in one hand and the bucket in the other palm, 
and bowed gracefully.
    Laughter and applause practically shook the ground, 
many of the crowd tossing wirthas, the delicate gypsum 
coins that my people use as currency, into the empty 
bucket. When everybody else had moved away, I tossed four 
of my wirthas in as well.
    "That was great!" I told him, smiling all over.
    "It was, wasn't it?" He sprang lightly off the stage, 
taking the money from the bucket and then placing it and 
the batons beside the silver ball. "I'm Cuthri Rabbitsong. 
What's your name?"
    "Keren Deerfriend," I told him.
    "Hey, we just met," said Cuthri with fake annoyance, 
"and you're calling me dear friend already? You really are 
impetuous, aren't you?"
    "That's my name," I said with dignity.
    "Ah, don't get ruffled up. I was making a joke." When 
I didn't respond, Cuthri peered in my face and swung a 
hand in front of my eyes. "Hey, are you awake?"
    "Nobody at my house ever makes jokes," I said after a 
pause. "I couldn't tell if you were being sarcastic or 
not."
    "No jokes! You poor deprived kid. Did you hear the one 
about the wall?"
    "No."
    "Never mind, it's over your head."
    When I smiled, Cuthri perked up. "That's better. I was 
afraid I'd met a humorless friend."
    "Now who's being impetuous?" I teased him.
    "I'm not!" Cuthri protested. "Hey, you want to go get 
something to eat?"
    What an Elwen! I was getting a little dizzy trying to 
keep up with his rapidity. It took several moments before 
the fact registered that he'd spoken. "What? Oh, sure. I'm 
a little hungry anyw-"
    "Great! I saw a merchant hawking pies somewhere back 
there. It ought to sate us, don't you think?"
    I could only nod in helpless agreement and bound after 
Cuthri, who was already gliding, graceful as an otter, 
through the crowd. "Come on!" I heard him call, and then 
he vanished past a juggler.
    Darting around the juggler, I caught a glimpse of his 
red tunic disappearing into a merchant's stall. Somehow I 
pumped my legs fast enough to catch up with him; by that 
time he'd bought six steaming blueberry palm pies and was 
scarfing three of them down.
    "Here!" he called through a mouthful of baked 
blueberries and pie crust. Small blue pieces flew out of 
his munching jaws as he tossed three pies at me.
    Absolutely startled, I nonetheless caught them- two in 
my hands and one in the face.
    I stood there motionless, feeling pie creep down my 
cheeks and into my mouth. I licked the soft blueberries, 
deciding in fact that they were quite good. I was 
distracted by a giggling sound- Cuthri.
    Slowly (setting down one of the two remaining pies 
first) I lifted my left hand and wiped caked fruit and 
crust from my cheek and eyes until I could see Cuthri, his 
mouth still full of the warm treat, clutching his sides. 
One glance at me set him off again, for I was glaring at 
him, hands on my hips, which of course left smashed 
blueberries on my nice new green tunic.
    I found it impossible to remain serious in the face of 
his hilarity, and gave a small, grudging laugh. Turning 
around, I caught sight of myself in the silver tray Cuthri 
had bought to hold the pies. My hair had turned a messy 
silver-blue, with strands standing straight up, stiffened  
with berries. My face looked like that of a clown with a 
mania for blue paint, and some crust had got up my nose. 
Juice and dough dripped off my chin onto the tunic, 
already stained an ocean color with the blueberries of the 
other pie.
    In short, I looked ridiculous.
    In spite of myself, and the barrier to joy that had 
existed almost since high summer, I gave an amused snort- 
which, of course, sent pieces of pie flying from my 
nostrils.
    Too much.
    I shook inwardly, for fear that if I laughed aloud, it 
would look like I was throwing up. Finally, though, it 
didn't really matter, because the laughter decided it had 
had enough of this nonsense of being caged up, and erupted 
on its own. My newfound friend and I rolled on the floor 
belly-laughing, oblivious to the emotionless stares of the 
merchant and the onlookers, until I began to feel sick 
from the gaiety.
    "All right, all right," I gasped finally, holding up a 
weak hand in surrender. "You can laugh longer than I can!"
    "And you can sneeze a lot more interestingly than I 
can!" Cuthri smirked.
    "Don't start," I protested, feeling chuckles building 
within again. "My sides hurt."
    "So do mine, but who cares?" I think Cuthri might have 
said something else, but a call entered from outside, 
obviously angry in spite of emotion-suppression training.
    "Cuthri Rabbitsong! Get out here instantly, young 
Elwen!"
    My green-eyed friend sighed in disgust. "My mother," 
he muttered. He looked straight at me, speaking with 
resentment for the first time. "She always gets mad at me 
when I'm having fun."
    "Then why don't you stop doing things that make her 
angry?"
    "To the Four Moons with her upsetness! I never harm 
anybody- it's the fact that I'm emotional that she can't 
stand." He stood up. "I guess I'd better go. Will I see 
you again?"
    "Sure," I agreed, knowing that my parents wouldn't 
approve of my having an emotional friend, but not caring 
in the least. "Can we meet tomorrow in front of my house? 
I'll introduce you to a friend of mine, Baypirror. He's a 
black unicorn-" I broke off. "Oh, I forgot. You don't like 
unicorns, do you?"
    "Sure I do! I think it's-"
    "CUTHRI!" A slender, blue-haired female Elwen appeared 
in the doorway, fuming. She seized my friend by the wrist 
and dragged him away. "Listen to me, young Elwen-"
    "Good-bye!" I sang.
    "Good-bye!" he called back, ignoring his mother's 
ranting.
    I turned away as they vanished, ready to find 
Baypirror and tell him about what were, to me, important 
accomplishments.
    I'd made a friend- and laughed.
----------------------------------------------------------
    I didn't find Baypirror that day, but that was no real 
surprise, since the fair took up the entire city, and the 
black unicorn could be anywhere. Finally, the sun began to 
set. I could have stayed at the fair, since Elwens can see 
as well in the dark as in daytime, but my parents expected 
me for dinner. I had to hurry home.
    I turned out to be happy that I did.
----------------------------------------------------------
    By the time I reached the huge silver stag that housed 
my family, I was feeling thoroughly tired and cheerful. 
The day's bonding with Cuthri, beyond anything I had 
expected, cheered me and let my spirit soar and play 
again. Even the sight of my father coming down the ladder 
from the dining hall to 'greet' me failed to take away my 
heart's wings.
    That is, until he spoke.
    "Well met, Keren, my son," he said warmly, in such a 
fatherly manner that I screeched to a stop and eyed him 
warily.
    "Well met, Father," I responded cautiously, disguising 
my caution under the quiet optimism that it is advisable 
for Elwen voices to be loaded with.
    Quite abruptly, he changed tactics, seizing me by the 
arm and glaring intently into my eyes. "I heard about your 
little- escapade- in the merchant's stall this morning."
    I swore softly under my breath, having completely 
forgotten about the possible repercussions that scene 
could have. But, following Cuthri's example, I knew it was 
my emotions my parents couldn't stand. Therefore, I showed 
all of my sentiment, not bothering to conceal any of it, 
now.
    "So what?" I sang, letting the strange mixture of 
contempt, anger, and hatred I felt for my father shine 
through. "So I have an emotional friend. So I disobeyed 
the magicked Conduct Laws! So what? You can't execute 
anybody under a thousand, you know! Or is that one you 
choose to ignore?"
    He slapped me.
    I disobeyed the impulse to slap back, for once 
slipping my mind in front of my heart, and stalked up the 
ladder into the house.
    My father followed, obviously frustrated by my open 
scorn of the law, which he would never understand because 
of his suppressed emotions, his reined-in heart.
    He spoke to me only once more, as we crossed the 
dining hall. "You do understand you will never see this 
Cuthri Rabbitsong again."
    I turned and fixed him with a stare, letting my eyes 
and expression show my rebellion. Then I wheeled to bound 
up the stairs to my room.
    This time he did not follow.




                        Chapter 3
                         Freedom
    Fighting. With a younger, violet-haired Elwen. Black 
eyes that hated me with all the suppressed passion the 
Laws allowed. Slim hands clutching a knife stained with 
silver blood, the blood of an Elwen. The knife plunging 
toward me...
    "Keren! Keren, are you awake?"
    I sat straight up, breathing hysterically. I glanced 
wildly about the room for the dark-eyed assailant. It took 
me a moment to realize two things: one, I was awake, and 
second, the call had come from outside the window.
    Unnerved (from the dream, not the call) I stood up and 
slipped through the bright room toward the window.
    Outside, the garden was bathed in light- starlight, 
golden moonbeams, and the light that comes from 
everything, the aura which my nightsight allows me to see. 
The hylea tree, golden blossoms closed, also gave out a 
faint yellow shimmer beyond its normally silver aura. 
Therefore, I had no trouble seeing the great black unicorn 
standing directly beneath my window, horn pointing towards 
the crystalline stars.
    "Bay?" I whispered in sleepy confusion, and sneezed.
    "Ker!" He trotted forward, wincing a little at the 
revealing, bell-like sound of his transparent hooves. 
"You've got to come with me right away!"
    "What's the rush?" I sneezed again. It was an old 
habit of mine, sneezing after being awakened from a dream. 
"Can't it wait-"
    "No, it cannot wait till morning!" my friend snapped. 
"A female lavender unicorn has been condemned to death, 
and I need you to help me free her."
    My eyes opened wide. Even Bay had never before 
suggested anything so drastic as freeing a unicorn. I'd 
been told by my parents about the horrible torture and 
execution of recaptured or condemned slaves- and the 
torture of those found helping them. Even my family's 
wealth wouldn't be able to protect me from the wrath of 
the law if I did that.
    And yet, it needn't be found out. If we could go 
quietly, I would have the satisfaction of freeing her and 
knowing that I had saved a life. Also, it would really 
please me to sass the law- the law that I believed to be 
wrong- that way.
    In short, I would do it.
    "All right," I whispered, getting ready to climb from 
the window.
    "Too long," he complained, folding his legs beneath 
him. "Just jump."
    "What?" I hissed. "Are you crazy? I'll be smashed to 
pieces. Then what good will I do-"
    "Violette. Her name is Violette. And you'll do her a 
lot of good- if you just land on my back." He looked up at 
me. His eyes shimmered like bottomless pools in the 
moonlight, in contrast with his horn, a pillar of pure 
crystal. Those eyes implored me to leap. So did my sense 
of justice, my heart. My good sense told me to climb down- 
or forget the whole business.
    Since when do I listen to my good sense?
    I sprang, breathing a silent prayer that I would not 
die.
    The ground somersaulted under me. I bit my lip to keep 
from screaming as it became clear I would land on my head. 
Goodbye, hard world, I thought.
    "Oof! You're heavy," Baypirror complained as I landed 
on his back, right-side up. "Couldn't you have landed a 
little lighter?" The next moment he forgot about 
complaining as he rose to his hooves and began trotting  
across the garden.
    I had been preparing to slide off- riding a unicorn is 
not a practice I endorse- and had to grab frantically at 
the ebony mane, soft as a cloud of smoke, to maintain my 
seat. Instinctively- I'd ridden horses before- I found 
myself tightening my knees around the water-smooth flanks 
and posting up and down with the effortlessly graceful 
motion of the unicorn. Then I realized what I was doing.
    "Bay!" I hissed in my friend's ear. "Stop so I can get 
off!"
    "No," he replied, not even pausing to glance around at 
me. "Violette's stable is on the other side of town. It's 
safest if you ride."
    "What!" I was scandalized. "Bay, this runs contrary to 
what I believe-"
    "Oh, honestly," he neighed at me. "Unicorns and horses 
aren't all that different. It's actually sort of pleasant 
to have you on my back. And it's a long way." Suddenly his 
tone changed, becoming more clarion. The sweetest crystal 
trumpet in all the world can't compare to the voice of an 
excited unicorn. "Hold on tight!"
    I clenched my hands in his mane and clapped my knees 
to his sides. I felt the muscles in his hind legs tense, 
and my stomach twisted in fear. If he did what I thought 
he was going to do-
    He did. He made the powerful, prodigious leap of a 
unicorn that you so often hear of in tales. What you never 
hear of is the sweating, terrified rider clinging to his 
back.
    Ever curious, I popped an eye open to look below. Bay 
had jumped to clear our garden fence, I guessed. My guess 
was right, but seeing it from eight feet up in the air was 
not my idea of simply clearing it.
    Then I felt the black's muscles stretch again. At 
first I thought we were going down, but when we rose 
higher, I knew he hadn't even reached the peak of his 
bound yet. Dizziness swept over me, and I had to close the 
one eye. "Bay?" I squeaked.
    "Hmmm?" He did not sound at all concerned.
    "H-how high will we go?"
    "Don't worry, Keren." His rich, deep chuckle did not 
ease my suspicions. Nor did his next words allay them. 
"This is only a small leap. I would say- a hundred and 
twenty-five feet or so."
    All right, I thought, it's settled- he is crazy. I 
gritted my teeth, locked my fingers in a death hold about 
the unicorn's neck, and prayed Bay would land on all four 
feet.
    We soared, and despite my fear I felt a sense of 
exhilaration. I knew, however, that if I looked down I 
would lose dinner. Then the downward plunge began, and I 
barely held on to consciousness through my terror. Every 
bone in my body shook as we landed, and with barely a 
pause Bay began trotting again.
    "Keren, let go of my neck, would you? You're choking 
me."
    Very, very slowly, I unclenched my fingers from his 
mane and the great arched pillar of his throat, flexing 
the stiff knuckles. "Bay, if you ever do that again, I 
swear I will kill you," I breathed in his ear.
    "At ease, Keren." He chuckled again, the sound 
blending with the song of his hooves and the sounds of 
distant merrymaking. "I won't do that without warning you 
first, I promise." Abruptly, he dug in his hoofs and 
jerked to a stop. "Here we are."
    I recognized the huge silver leaf before me as the 
home of the Leaflaughter family, another aristocratic 
clan. The wooden stable was smaller than ours, but 
prettier, decorated with delicate silver carvings of 
leaves. I could hear the sounds of sleeping unicorns and 
Lafoxes inside.
    Bay knelt, and I scrambled off. There was a fence 
round the yard, but I'd rather climb over that then risk 
another flight with my crazy friend, I thought.
    "What did this Violette do?" I whispered to Baypirror 
as I looked about for possible guards or traps.
    "Her groom beat her without provocation," Bay gestured 
in Unicornic. "He killed her newborn child, and so she 
stabbed him through the heart. It's a murder charge."
    "We're going to free a murderer?" I jerked back from 
the intricate fence, feeling my face twist in revulsion. 
"A killer purple unicorn? That's it. I'm going home."
    I turned around, only to be confronted by Bay's 
lowered horn, a-glitter in the starlight.
    "I thought you were different, Keren Deerfriend." The 
heavy voice was laden with sadness. "I thought you truly 
cared about what happened to unicorns.
    "I see I was wrong."
    My face went hot, and I looked down at the ground. 
"Bay, please," I whispered, "I do care. But- a murder 
charge? I want to free her, but how do I know she won't 
kill again? Then I'd be responsible."
    Bay lifted his horn and backed away, face averted. "If 
that's the way you feel, you're free to go. If you want to 
try and help, stay. I can't choose for you. What will it 
be, Keren- friendship, or the law?"
    I shouldn't have to make that decision! I screamed 
silently. Why are you doing this? But I knew I wouldn't 
get an answer.
    Only a moment passed while I pondered. I knew what I 
had to do. Whether my heart doomed me or gifted me is 
another matter.
    I stepped forward and hugged Baypirror, stroking the 
obsidian mane. "Of course," I whispered. "She was only 
avenging the murder of her child. It's wrong to keep her 
locked up like that! I'll help you."
    Bay's smile shone with relief. "I knew you would," he 
said.
    I looked deep into his warm, life-brimming eyes, and 
abruptly was inside his thoughts. I realized that the 
innate ability of my kind to read another person's soul 
was functioning for the first time for me. And, I knew 
that my friend was lying- he hadn't been sure which 
loyalty would emerge uppermost. Why? I wondered.
    I gathered myself to delve more deeply into his heart, 
but he flicked his ears and looked away, breaking the 
connection. For a moment, before being killed by a 
business-like demeanor, a confused expression flitted 
across his features. Heart-read people not of the Elwen 
race never knew for sure when their spirits had been 
exposed to our inner eyes- they only experienced a feeling 
of vagueness that quickly vanished. Feeling a bit confused 
myself, I looked back to the fence and cleared my throat.
    "I can climb this. I don't see any traps of any sort, 
and no guards. They must all be at the festival." I 
stretched out a hand toward the fence, locked my fingers 
around the ornate silver leaves, and began to climb 
upward. When I reached the top, protected by spikes, I 
simply sprang over, landing lightly on the ground.
    Bay floated over again, and I gulped, averting my 
eyes, as I realized just how high I'd gone. Then I shook 
it off and moved toward the stable.
    "Is she awake?" I asked Baypirror, gazing at the lock. 
Fortunately, I was used to picking them with my 
telekinises from times when my father locked me in my 
room, and it swung slowly open in no time.
    Bay nodded, then poked his head into the stable and 
trotted down the aisle, wincing at his singing hooves. He 
stopped before each stall, looked in, and moved on. 
Finally, from the far end of the stable, I heard his 
neigh, answered by a clear, beautiful whinny. Apparently 
he'd found her.
    I dashed in, but unlike him moved soundlessly between 
the stalls until I reached Violette's. I paused in the 
shadows untouched by moonlight, where she couldn't see me 
but I could see her as clearly as if it were noon, and 
studied her.
    She was tall, after the manner of unicorns, and had a 
sleek, silky pelt of delicate lilac. Her royal purple mane 
and tail spilled in waterfalls of lavender light across 
her back, her legs were clean and straight, and her horn, 
dark as the waters of an icebound lake, was held proudly. 
Her eyes, brilliant pools of violet, literally blazed with 
life, but I entered her soul and discovered roaring grief 
over the death of her child, as well as a furious, 
impeccable loathing of the Elwens, and a desire to kill as 
many as she could. Pulling out of her mind, I fell into my 
own emotions: pity for her, nausea at her hatred, and a 
growing conviction that this wasn't going to be as easy as 
Baypirror thought.
    I shook myself and reoriented my attention on the 
conversation.
    "You brought a friend, you said, Bay?" Violette 
sounded light, almost casual, but I could detect the 
barely concealed menace in her tone. She knows I'm an 
Elwen, I thought, and she most definitely does not 
approve.
    "Yes, I did." Bay glanced about, his dark eyes, 
inferior to mine at night, sweeping past the shadows where 
I was hidden. "Keren? Keren, where are you?"
    I stepped out of hiding. "Right here." I turned toward 
Violette and began to speak in Unicornic. "Well met, 
Violette. My name is-"
    Only because I was fully prepared for her next 
movement do I live today. Violette crashed out of the 
stall, ripping even the unicornsbane halter that usually 
kept unicorns docile in her fury and mad bloodlust. Her 
horn pointed toward my heart.
    Even somebody the tiniest bit surprised would have 
been impaled. As it was, I leaped lightly over her, taking 
a lesson from Bay, and landed in the stall. She neighed in 
impotent rage as she skidded and fell, then snorted 
something I didn't catch and lowered her horn toward me 
again.
    Lightning bolts from her spell zipped toward me at the 
same instant something tickled my brain. A mindbreak 
spell, I thought, skipping over the bolts. So if her 
missiles miss me, she can break my spirit and put me under 
her control.
    Well, it didn't quite work.
    The lightning missed me as I dodged, time and again. 
Meanwhile, in my mind, I slammed up the incredibly strong 
and vast mental shields all Elwens posses from birth, 
putting all the strength of my stubbornness behind them.
    A deadly dance of wills took place, physically and 
psychically, and I remained confident that I would win.
    At a length, Violette's head collapsed. The lightning 
stopped, and her will's beating its head against my 
shields ceased.
    Bay reached Violette first, licked her nose, and stood 
back as her head jerked up. She turned a lilac eye on me, 
so full of hate and grudging respect that I blinked my 
own. Then she bowed her horn and spoke in her soft, 
feathery voice.
    "All right. You've beaten my magical attacks. You're 
here to free me. But- why?"
    "Why do you think?" I retorted, moving a step nearer 
but keeping alert to dodge any attacks. "You've been        
condemned. If you don't escape, you'll be executed. You 
want that?"
    Violette snorted. Even contemptuous as it was, it was 
beautiful, like flowing water. "Listen, two-legger," she 
replied, using the derisive term invented two ages ago by 
her people, "what can you know of me or my affairs?"
    "A lot, four-legger," I snapped. "But as to why I 
care, I do. Use your brain (if you have one!) Would an 
Elwen who didn't care even come here?"
    "Yes, to laugh," she neighed, but she pulled her long 
slim legs under her and began to rise. "Let's get away, if 
that's what you came for." Doubt laced her words.
    I opened my mouth to sing back an answer, but froze.
    "What? No retort?" Violette asked caustically when I 
didn't respond.
    "Shut up!" I hissed, and the two unicorns swayed back 
a bit. "Can't you hear?"
    They cocked their horned heads, then shook them in 
unison. "A cricket," said Violette. "Now-"
    Bay interceded smoothly. "I have not the ears of an 
Elwen, Keren. What do you hear?"
    "Footsteps. Guards!" I swore softly. How could I think 
the Leaflaughter compound unprotected? I glanced about for 
a way to escape. Seeing a small round window in Violette's 
stall, through which the golden moonlight of Lureth 
poured, I moved soundlessly to it and peered through.
    The auras of two laughing Elwens shone clearly to my 
nightsight- nearly a mile away, on the other end of the 
compound. I cocked an ear to their lute-like conversation.
    "One more check tonight," the taller sang. "Gotta take 
care of that lavender who's going to be tortured and 
killed tomorrow."
    "Tortured- how?" fluted the other guard, sincerely 
interested.
    "Oh, stamped on by horses, dropped into acid, ripped 
by wolves- the usual treatment for a murderer. Then she'll 
have her horn cut off, and she'll be blinded by dragon 
poison and stoned. Last of all, the Council will curse her 
in Suulta's name while slowly cutting her legs off with a 
guillotine. We've gotten hold of a moon dragon who's 
agreed to teleport her to the Barren Desert and leave her 
to die from loss of blood- if we give him the 
black-hearted scoundrel's black horn to eat."
    My eyes narrowed. Faintly to my ears, past the outrage 
in my head, came the sound of gritting teeth. I didn't 
care what they'd done; nobody- nobody- deserved that.
    I recovered only when I saw the two swing towards the 
stable. I had to get Violette out of here! Or my spirit 
would be dampened, permanently, by something my father 
could never do- fill me with helpless guilt that I could 
have saved a life, and didn't.
    Bay's horn poked me in the back. I turned around, 
gliding past the unicorns down the aisle and throwing wide 
the stable door. Golden moonlight, mingled with the 
silvershine of the stars, rained in and fell on the floor, 
bathing me in the combined radiance. I lifted my head 
toward the stars, the distant twinkles that my people were 
rumored to be born from at the Creation of Arcadia, and 
felt my heart ease a bit, the fury fading. Then I at last   
turned around to face Bay and Violette.
    "We have to go." I swear that never, before or since, 
have I heard my voice so calm. "There are two guards 
coming to check on you, Violette. They don't know you've 
escaped-"
    "I haven't, not yet. Although I am profoundly grateful 
for all the assistance you've rendered." The sarcasm in 
her voice would have made a flower wither.
    Elwens aren't flowers. I gave her an icily cool look, 
which I think unnerved her more than any words I ever 
spoke to her. "Thank you for your gratitude. But I won't 
deserve it until we get you out of here, safe and sound."
    "Then, two-legger, let's go and not waste any more 
time talking!" Violette snorted, and she trotted toward 
the door, flinching slightly at the song of her hooves. 
But I noticed an involuntary shudder ripple her purple 
coat, a shudder that had nothing to do with the noise.
    Baypirror winked at me, whispering softly, "Well 
done." He touched me lightly on the shoulder with his 
crystal horn, then cantered after Violette.
    Wrinkling my nose at the unicorns' racket, I flowed 
after them, cocking my ears for sounds of the guards. They 
surely must have heard the noise; Elwens, unlike humans, 
can hear sounds a mile off.
    But nothing stirred. We came out of the stable onto 
the soft grass, and then Violette hesitated no longer, but 
threw caution and herself to the winds. Rearing up on her 
hind legs, she let loose a crystalline sound, a 
trumpet-ring that might well have been sung by the stars 
in the Age of Dawn.
                             
                   I am free, I am free!
         All walls are behind me;
         I'm master of my own destiny,
         No chains will long bind me,
         No pursuers will find me;
                   I am free!

                   I am free, I am free!
         To go whither I will,
         Over dale and rill,
         Through forest and up hill,
         Outdistancing the hounds closing in for the kill;
                   I am free! 

    A lovely song, and very appropriate. But it drew the 
attention of the guards faster than anything else that 
fool of a lavender unicorn could have done.
    "Violette!" one gasped.
    "Get her, if you want any entertainment!" commanded 
the tall one, the Elwen who had lingered excitedly on the 
details of Violette's torture and murder. "And get the      
other one, too!" he bellowed suddenly. "We'll have double 
the fun!"
    I gazed helplessly at the unicorns, but then, 
remembering their fleetness, grinned and started to melt 
into the shadows. I would rejoin Bay by a different route, 
I thought- I certainly wouldn't be able to keep up with 
the frenzied chase through the silver streets.
    But when I saw the tall Elwen start for the stable, I 
began to suspect that something was wrong.
    Then I realized Bay had already floated over the 
fence. The small Elwen running at the defiant Violette 
hadn't even seen him.
    Which left only one person to be the other one..
    "Hey, you, kid! Stop!"
    Whoops.
    I sprang- what a pitiful imitation of a unicorn's 
bound that must have been!- and ran fleet as the deer that 
gave my line its name toward the fence. I knew I would 
have to climb, and swiftly- Violette would never consent 
to carry me, and in any case busied herself with her own 
escape.
    Up I went like a monkey, grasping at the ornate silver 
leaves. But halfway up I heard a soft "click"- and 
something pulled at my foot, gently but painfully.
    I looked down. Nausea from the height came in a 
dizzying rush, doubled by the fact that my left foot was 
caught and held fast by a sharp-barbed trap carved like a 
silver leaf. The barbs had fallen easily over my boot, 
puncturing the soft leather, and baring my toes, which 
they now imprisoned.
    I hesitated, weighing my options.
    Behind me, I heard the guard laugh. His footsteps- 
inaudible to anyone's ears except another Elwen's- slowed 
from pursuit to a taunting walk. "Got you now." He 
chuckled again.
    I glanced over my shoulder at him, noting the 
disturbing, menacing glitter in his golden, diamond-shaped 
eyes. "You wouldn't be willing to let me go, would you?" I 
put as much fear as I could into my notes, turning my head 
still further to keep him in my gaze.
    "No." He reached for me, uncoiling a whip from his 
belt as he did so.
    I hesitated no longer.
    Stifling my scream of pain in my shoulder, I ripped my 
foot out of the trap, leaving my last two toes behind. 
Ignoring the guard's gasp of disbelief, I clambered up the 
bars, jumped over the spikes at the top, and softly 
landed.
    Despite the pain and loss of balance, I ran. Elwens 
can run- for short bursts- at speeds of up to seventy 
miles an hour. And with my would-be captor ranting and 
raving behind the fence, not daring to climb it for fear 
of traps, and seemingly not having the key to the gate, I 
made it home safely.
    Still, I was limping, and feeling horribly dizzy from 
loss of blood. Another innate ability of Elwens allows 
them to regenerate lost toes or fingers, but it would be 
several hours before that happened.
    Luckily, I met Bay waiting for me at the fence. His 
long equine face lighted with terrified concern as he 
stared at the trail of blood I'd left.
    "Who did this to you?" A rage-filled whisper.
    "Bay, calm down!" I hissed. "Can you get me over the 
fence?"
    "Just a moment." He pointed his horn at the spots of 
blood and whispered something I didn't catch. The silvery 
trail flared, then disappeared.
    "Thanks." I climbed slowly, and painfully, onto his 
back. Exhaustion caused by loss of blood, and pain, were 
catching up with me at last. "Take me home," I whispered, 
eyes closing. "Please."
----------------------------------------------------------
    I do not remember how I got into my room, but I do 
remember waking up to a soft nicker outside my bedroom 
window.
    Wearily I dragged myself from my bed- my new toes were 
already sprouting- and plodded across my room to my 
windowsill.
    Violette stood far below, silhouetted against the 
night sky.
    "Thank you, two-le- Keren. Thank you so very much. You 
don't know what it means to me, to be free-" Here her 
voice broke, tears pooling in those brilliant eyes.
    "I thank you, rather, for letting me free you," I 
whispered, near to tears myself.
    "Not only me." Violette craned her neck completely 
upside-down, so that her horn touched her chest. Briefly, 
it seemed to glow, and I knew that new life grew within.
    "You're welcome. Both of you."
    Violette looked up, passing me again a gaze of respect 
and admiration, this time unclouded by malice. For a 
single moment we stood in silent, linked understanding. I 
delved into her heart; the grief remained, but lessened 
some, and the hatred had been banished.
    Then she wheeled and flew over the fence.
    I listened to the triumphant call of her hooves 
through the streets. Finally, I heard her whinny- in 
farewell. And was it my imagination, or did the light 
flash, very suddenly, on a dark horn?
    I cast myself into the most contented sleep of my 
life, that night.
    Indeed, freedom is wonderful.




                        Chapter 4
                        A Prisoner
         530, Age of Ascent, Beginning of Summer
    I drifted down Aril Street, diamond-shaped eyes wide, 
taking in all that the Bluedance Festival had to offer. 
Yells and screams of delight echoed around me- the Four 
Festivals of the Year were a few of the only times and 
places when emotions were not suppressed.
    But these were also dangerous times.
    I moved toward the alley where I was to meet Cuthri, 
letting my hand swing always near my dagger blade, in 
plain view. Five years before I would not have been so 
wary. But the rumors from the north lately..
    Well, better to carry a blade in caution than to be 
speared by one in incaution.
    I saw the alley- the alleyway to Lavoral Avenue where 
I had hidden so many years before- up ahead. I quickened 
my effortless pace, anxious to be on time.
    So much had happened from between the night I had 
freed Violette and now. The police had been absolutely 
unable to discover that 'vile lawbreaker's' identity. The 
guard was so upset he couldn't remember what I looked 
like. And their hounds had pursued Violette- but, true to 
her song, she kept light on her hooves and far ahead of 
them. Before they had moved a hundred miles from Rowan, 
the female lavender unicorn fled far north to Cytheria, 
where settlements of free unicorns still dwelt. There she 
lived now, having borne her colt. Somehow, Baypirror 
received news from her, and he told me that she had named 
her baby Keren. I couldn't have been more honored.
    I admitted having broken the law the next morning to 
Cuthri, who thought it was a great idea. When he and Bay 
had become firm in their friendship, he suggested a Daring 
Scheme.
    "Why not," he'd fluted, "form an organization to fight 
for slaves' rights? We'd have to keep it secret, of 
course. But who cares? The Abolitionists we should call 
it."
    In the almost five years since, sixteen unicorns, 
seventeen Corocoros, and ten Lafoxes ran free because of 
our work. As we gradually became experts at it, the 
escapes became more and more secret and silent, until 
guards would just swear at an empty stall and shake their 
heads at the Elwens called to investigate.
    Baypirror's magic and the expertise of Cuthri and 
myself always kept us from being caught.
    "Ouch!"
    I'd been so busy contemplating that I'd walked smack 
into a silver wall.
    Wincing, I rubbed the large new bump on my head. 
Silvery laughter rained from the shadows at my side, and I 
turned, pulling my hand away from my dagger blade as it 
instinctively strayed there. I recognized the laughter, 
the footsteps, and the scent.
    "Cuth?" I called.
    "Ker!" He glided toward me. His aura, visible to my 
nightsight, illuminated him in a pallid light. He was 
wearing blue- blue tunic, blue leggings, blue boots, even 
a ridiculous blue bow in his silver hair. His green eyes 
gleamed with a welcoming luster. "I thought you'd never 
get here!"
    "Bay's not here yet, is he?" I asked after we'd shaken 
hands. I peered into the shadows, listening for 
bell-sounds or straining to see the glimmer of starlight 
off his translucent horn.
    "No." He shook his head. Then he squinted closely at 
me. "Wow, you must've run into that wall pretty hard. Your 
eye's blackened, and your face is all scratched up."
    Hastily I nodded, turning to peer down the street. "I 
hit it hard enough to really hurt. When's Bay coming?"
    "Ker," said Cuthri's soft, tinkling voice. I felt his 
hand on my shoulder and involuntarily stiffened when he 
touched the large wound under my tunic.
    "What's wrong?" he asked, sincere concern now in his 
notes.
    When I didn't answer, he stepped around in front of 
me, gazing deeply into my eyes. I knew I was being 
heart-read when his expression turned from one of 
compassion to one of anger.
    "Your father beat you again." The blunt statement 
shook, not from fear but from barely concealed rage.
    I didn't need to nod, but I did it anyhow.
    Abruptly he seized me by the one shoulder that didn't 
hurt, shaking me so roughly I stared at him in amazement. 
"You nincompoop! You ninny! You noodle-brain! Why didn't 
you tell us?"
    "Because I prefer to keep it secret, thank you," I 
managed to say through teeth that clicked like castanets. 
"What can you do about it? I know you care, and I'm glad- 
but what will be will be." It was true, as far as I could 
see. Nothing could change my father's drinking, and I 
certainly wasn't going to make myself miserable by 
suppressing my spirit. And as long as my spirit did as it 
pleased- which most often annoyed my father- there would 
be conflicts.
    Right now he wins them, I thought suddenly, clenching 
my jaws and then flinching because of my two newly missing 
teeth. But someday...
    "I can at least comfort you!" Cuthri snapped, drawing 
my attention back to the matters at hand. "I'm your 
friend, Keren Deerfriend. I thought you knew that. I-"
    "I do know it," I mumbled, looking down at the ground. 
"Thanks."
    "You're welcome." He sighed. I could feel his eyes 
still on me. Then, suddenly, he gave an excited little 
skip. His voice perked up. "You can go to the Council! 
They'll stop your father from beating you!"
    I shook my head slowly, then looked up. Cuthri stepped 
back- at the look in my eyes, I guess. I could almost feel 
them burning myself.
    "The magicked Council won't do a thing! They'll 
dismiss me, in fact- I've already been branded as a rebel. 
And rebels aren't listened to. Besides," I concluded, 
coming to my final and strongest reason for not seeking 
help, "child abuse isn't against the law."
    This was news to Cuthri. His jaw sagged open, and he 
stared at me in absolute disbelief. Then he recovered, 
visibly struggling to pull himself together.
    "Didn't your parents ever hammer the Conduct Laws into 
you?" I asked. Not waiting for an answer, I pulled myself 
up and recited in a shrill and toneless voice, "Children 
belong to their parents. Parents have a right to beat them 
if they break the Conduct Laws."
    "I break the" (here Cuthri said a filthy word) 
"Conduct Laws, and my parents never touched me."
    "Your father doesn't drink," I replied, finality in my 
song.
    Hooves rang on the moonlit silver. We turned to see 
Baypirror cantering toward us. I moved out to greet him.
    "Well, about time-" I started, but he threw me a 
starless glance. By that I mean his dark eyes were grim 
and almost lifeless, with the usual spirited starlight 
gone from them- save the brilliance of unshed tears.
    "Bay-" I placed my hand on his neck in concern (which 
I could do because I had grown two feet in the last five 
years). "What's wrong? Has a condemned unicorn died before 
we could hear of it?"
    Bay shook his now drooping head. "Much worse than 
that."
    Behind me I heard Cuthri gasp in comprehension, and 
then moan. I glanced from one to the other. Cuthri's eyes, 
too, now sparkled with tears, and both had the most 
hopeless looks I had ever seen on their faces.
    "What is it?" I demanded.
    The black unicorn lifted his head, allowing me to gaze 
deep into the beautiful night-dark pools of his eyes. 
Pushing past the despair and grief with all the force of 
my will-power, I saw.
    And began to sob, bringing my hands up to hide my 
face.
    Bay's words seemed almost unnecessary, only an echo of 
my terror and sorrow. "A battle. Rumors of a battle ride 
the north wind. The curalli are (supposedly) marching, and 
the Elwens of Rowan are mustering. A battle will happen, 
and all its carnage."
    "An ordinary battle would be bad enough," I heard 
Cuthri muttering. "But one against curalli.."
    Silently I cursed. The curalli, the shadowed Elwens, 
possibly the most deadly fighters in Arcadia- next to us, 
their cousins. These silver-skinned fighters burned 
villages, waylaid travelers, slaughtered people in their 
way- and showered unending loathing on us, their 
most-hated enemies. Long ago we chose the Light, and the 
curalli developed an intolerance for it. Lovers of the 
darkness, they kill because it is their way of life. Some 
members of the Council say they're not truly evil- and not 
all of them are. But the majority of them are perfect 
killing machines, slaying without mercy the other 
intelligent races.
    Worst of all is the hatred, bred into the very silver 
blood of Elwens. This compelling emotion- the only one we 
cannot suppress at the sight of our cousins- forces us to 
attack and kill them. For some reason, though the curalli 
greatly despise and dislike us, they have no such 
blood-hatred, and can control their actions. Many curalli 
and Elwens often die in a confrontation, for the Elwens 
lose control, but the silver-skinned ones are overwhelmed 
by the frenzies of my people.
    Now, apparently, the rumors were confirmed- curalli 
had attacked and burned several defenseless human fishing 
villages, and the Elwens of Rowan were called to march 
against them. All three of us- even Baypirror, whose kind 
did not so scorn the curalli- hated the idea, grieving for 
the inevitable loss of life. I, meanwhile- and I had only 
to glance into Cuthri's terror-filled green eyes to know 
that he shared my dread- was afraid of the irresistible 
loathing that would overwhelm me. In such a frantic 
moment, my rational mind or my grief at killing would have 
no chance to surmount or subdue the hate.
    Perhaps, then, that was my deepest fear- being 
controlled with no ability to fight back.
    Quite suddenly, screams erupted outside the alley, 
chasing our private thoughts into the recesses of our 
minds. Instinctively we moved closer together, Bay moving 
his lips as he summoned a spell to his mind, and my hand 
slipping to my dagger. Cuthri, unarmed, stood alert, 
focusing nose and ears to the commotion. If anybody 
attacked him, thinking him an easy target, they would 
think again- my silver-haired friend was well-trained in 
using his body as a weapon.
    Only a moment later, I relaxed, hand slipping from its 
tight grip on the silver hilt of my weapon.
    "What is it?" asked Bay, noting my sudden movement. He 
glanced at my face, then his dark eyes widened and he 
peered more closely. "Say, what hap-"
    "I'm confused," I interrupted, steering away his 
concern. "Those are screams of joy, not of ter-" I 
instantly glanced at Cuthri, our eyes locking as both of 
us Elwens nodded in silent, sorrowful understanding.
    "What?" Bay demanded with a stomp of his crystal left 
forehoof. When neither of us answered, his tone began to 
tremble. "Not good, is it?"
    "No," I responded absently, gliding to the corner of 
the alley and peering around. The auras of dozens of 
Elwens were jumping up and down. Many were hugging, and I 
heard several voices raised in songs of praise to Suulta.
    I pulled my head back, drawing a deep breath. And 
then, as I had done on that night of despair so long ago, 
the night of Violette's release, I turned my face 
heavenward, seeking the guidance of the argent stars. 
Cool, crystalline light poured over me, reassuring and 
soothing me, filling my soul with the same pure brilliance 
and clarity of calm as it had five years ago. I tilted my 
slender hands forward, feeling the tension vanish from my 
muscles as my silver blood called to the silvershine. At 
last, calmed and cool as the starlight, I slipped back to 
my friends.
    Cuthri, too, had moved into a patch of stargleam and 
basked in it. I couldn't see Baypirror, until he reemerged 
from the shadows where his spirit took its solace. Like 
all of his race, he loved the night and its wildness. Most 
Elwens considered this evil, for some unknown reason, but 
black unicorns were born not from the stinking darkness, 
but from the quiet darkness of predawn. Their reverence 
for the blackness was no less than ours for the stars.
    Now all level-headed, we met again in the middle of 
the alleyway.
    "They're happy about it," I told my friends evenly. 
"It will gave them a chance to prove their valor- or so 
they believe. I, myself, see nothing valiant in killing 
curalli- who, despite their callousness, their silver 
skin, and their hatred of the starlight, are Elwens."
    "Especially when the 'valor' will include killing 
curalli children," Cuthri added, still angry, but now with 
the anger not threatening to drown him.
    Bay nodded, the vitality of his primal heart still 
aglow in the fires of his fathomless eyes. "I agree. Well, 
at least you don't have to go to the battle."
    "What?" Cuthri's astonishment broke like an iceberg 
through his placid sea. "You mean we've been afraid of 
nothing?"
    "Yeah," said Baypirror, now looking eager. "They're 
not sending any children off to fight."
    I smiled away the unintentional insult. "But, Bay, at 
fifteen we're not children anymore," I told him. "Not by 
the Council's reckoning."
    "Unicorns are children until they're twenty, and we 
live three thousand years." Bay shook his head in 
resignation. "I'll never understand your race's logic. You 
become mature so early, and you have ten thousand years in 
this world.."
    I shrugged, smiling. "To us, it seems just enough- not 
too long, not too short. We don't fear death." Abruptly I 
sighed, my lightheartedness falling away. "Although after 
one hundred centuries we'll probably be a bit weary.."
    "If we die early, we won't get the chance," Cuthri 
remarked wryly. "I'll go off to the fight- my parents will 
make me- but I'll try as hard as possible not to do any 
killing."
    Fear filled me again, and I bowed my head. Cuthri, 
staring at me, shook his head. Bay seemed to understand, 
for his shoulders drooped and he gave a small, hopeless 
nicker, the last of his calmness gone.
    All of us knew that, against the bitter bite of the 
hatred in the blood of an Elwen, only a will of rock would 
be able to stand unsnapped.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The next morning, most of my compound was astir, the 
grooms and servants shouting to each other about the 
impending battle in which we would destroy the curalli 
town of Shadows.
    When I came down to breakfast, my parents were seated 
at the table with tense, eager expressions on their faces. 
My father actually greeted me jovially.
    "Well met, Keren! Aren't you excited about the 
battle?"
    Honesty is a policy that I value highly.
    "No," I replied, slipping into my place and reaching 
for a piece of bread. I didn't need to look up to see the  
mounting, barely concealed rage I knew would be there.
    Before Alicalor could explode on me, a cool, slim hand 
touched my arm. I turned to gaze into my mother's 
diamond-shaped green eyes.
    "Why not, Keren?" Her quiet, emotionless question did 
not sound troubled.
    I started to shrug, but then stiffened with horror as 
I realized that Kaluri's beautiful eyes no longer saw me.
She had that misty, unfocused look in them that Elwens get 
when they are heart-reading another person. And sure 
enough, I felt the slight, familiar push against the 
natural barriers of my mind and memories.
    If my mother found out why I didn't want to fight- and 
what I had been doing over the last five years- I would be 
dead.
    Literally.
    For the first time since my fight with Violette, I 
slammed up my shields, protecting that which I considered 
personal. (I hadn't done it before because Cuthri often 
heart-read me). Still, I held my breath, not sure if I 
would be successful. It took a strong will to resist a 
practiced Elwen mind.
    My mother gave me a piercing look. I gasped- in 
relief- when she looked the other way, frowning.
    "Why don't you want to fight, Keren?" my father 
repeated, now sounding more mystified than upset.
    I smirked behind my hand. So I could heartscreen, huh? 
This had possibilities...
    I shook myself, focusing my attention on my scowling 
father. Looking up, I entered his eyes as I answered. "I 
don't want to kill."
    Yep. Exactly what I had expected. His beer-clouded 
mind could not resist the simplest of heart-readings. I 
found anger there- and a plan to beat me up that 
afternoon.
    Well, we'd see about that.
    "You don't want to kill curalli?" His voice did show 
emotion this time, in spite of his efforts to hide it. His 
eyes, dark with flecks of gold, shone with the keenest 
amazement I ever saw in an Elwen.
    "Yes," I responded, falling back into my own mind. "I 
don't want slaughter. And you know that's what it's going 
to be- a slaughter. The curalli haven't done anything to 
us, and they'll die. As will a bunch of Elwens."
    "They've burned helpless human farming villages," my 
father blustered. "And you ask us not to do anything?"
    "Burned villages of a race that staged a campaign of 
genocide against us not so long ago," I growled, 
swallowing the bread. "And you ask-"
    My mother cut in smoothly. "Five centuries is a long 
time to humans, Keren. They're our trading partners now."
    My dad beamed again. "And once we get there- you will 
go, young Elwen!- will you be able to resist the 
blood-hatred?" He smirked, leaning his impressive 
six-foot-height forward toward me. "An answer, please," he 
demanded, when I said nothing.
    Rage born of terror welled inside me. Would I? Would I 
be able to resist my Elwen blood's command to kill?
    Would I?
    I really didn't want to find out. I didn't care, 
either, for watching Cuthri lose himself to the pressuring 
demands of his inborn abhorrence.
    I bowed my head, as though in humility and agreement 
with my father, but suddenly exploded into motion, rising 
from my chair and spinning a complete circuit in front of 
him. As he sat there blinking and gaping, I brought my 
left fist high above my head and smashed it down with all 
my might.
    Right into Alicalor's mouth.
    He tumbled backward, clutching his bloody jaw. I heard 
the tinkle of a tooth on the floor, and felt a small 
measure of bitter revenge inside. But as I stared at the 
silver blood coating my fist, guilt and grief replaced the 
rage.
    Why couldn't things have been different?
    The expected gasp from behind sent me plummeting to 
the floor. My mother's kick, aimed for my ribs, slammed 
into empty air as I moved away, jumping from a supine 
position to a pirouette on the other side of the dining 
hall.
    Servants rushed in, but they looked a bit confused. 
When they saw my father writhing on the floor, they knew 
what had happened and turned toward me.
    I couldn't hope to outfight them, and I didn't want to 
hurt them anyway. I hung my head, peeking up out of the 
corner of one eye as they came closer.
    For hitting your parent, you had to be willing to 
suffer unspeakable pain. However, I had no intention of 
doing that.
    "Got you now!" a blonde maid taunted, reaching for me 
with slender hands.
    "You hit the master who pays us!" hissed another. 
"You'll pay dearly, boy."
    "That's what you think!" The defiance in my voice 
surprised me. As they started to pin my arms behind my 
back, I coiled my legs under me..
    ..and sprang twelve feet high into the air, and 
sixteen forward. I crashed down more than five yards from 
my startled pursuers, somehow getting my feet under me 
again and sprinting forward. I made it to the western door 
and started to open it, but it abruptly crashed open on 
its own. Six more maids, all young and strong, poured into 
the room, one making eye contact with me.
    Too late, I slammed my mental barriers up. But she had 
read my recent memories. Reaching out a slim, visibly 
self-assured hand, she caught me by the shoulder as I 
started to whirl and punched me in the small of the back.
Her leg kicked the back of mine, and I went down as easily 
as if I had chosen to fall on my own. Finally, she rolled 
me over with her foot and kicked me in the solar plexus.
    My breath deserted me. Red flashes of pain exploded in 
front of my eyes. I groped to breathe, but she stepped on 
my throat with all of her weight, enough to nearly crush 
my breathing pipe.
    Then I was waging a losing battle against two things- 
the agony and the desperate struggle to inhale. I barely 
felt the punches everywhere on my body, or heard the 
frenzied screaming. I did hear a sound like a twig 
snapping, and thought that odd- until a numbness spread up 
my left leg. Somewhere in my pain-clouded brain flashed 
the message that my left ankle hung limp and useless now.
    I heard the clink of chain, and then felt the touch of 
cold silver against my wrists, and brushing my ankles. I 
bit completely through my lip to push back my anguished 
cries, for they tugged my ankles together ruthlessly. 
Liquid fire capered with wicked laughter up my snapped 
foot to my thigh. Then it burned in my fingers also, for 
they had begun breaking them, bending them back until the 
delicate bones ruptured with loud pops.
    Finally, I tamed my breath again. Somehow pushing the 
pain away, I looked up into the face of the nearest 
gleeful servant. I was determined to die- if dying I was- 
as I had lived.
    "Ready to give up?" she taunted me. It was the maid 
who had first captured me. "Now you see what happens to 
those who break our laws!"
    I did the last thing she expected.
    Instead of surrendering, laying down my resistance and 
stubbornness, I spat in her face.
    She gasped, but, sublimating her shock, slapped me in 
the face and turned away.
    I laughed at her back as she departed, then wearily 
closed my eyes. Pain was dancing in my consciousness 
again, and no wonder- boots were thumping steadily into my 
ribs. I hadn't stopped fighting, but I couldn't resist the 
temptation of comforting blackness any longer.
    I abandoned consciousness.
----------------------------------------------------------
*JOIN ELWEN*