“Every elva dreams of the day she will be join the women of her clan. My friend, Varie spent a full year planning the Ascension Ceremony and the reception party ….”

  As Ava droned on, Alex’s gaze shifted from Lyra’s choker necklace to Ava’s necklace. “Excuse me, but those markings, what do they mean?”

  Ava’s right hand glided around her necklace. “Other than our clan crest, some are wards to protect us; others are symbols of status, our rank, but most are a mystery. They simply appear at some pivotal moment. Warriors have different magic icons. The same is true of a priest, an artisan, or a builder. Our necklaces bind and adapt to us, and we adapt to them.”

  “Wait,” said Alex, “you adapt to them?”

  “Our parents hold the signet ring which controls our necklace. That power is transferred to our spouse’s wedding ring when we marry.” She smiled and released Alex’s hand. “I know that sounds awful, but it’s really not that bad. They take care of us — protect us. There are many dangers in the world.”

  It sounded like a script that Ava read so many times that she actually believed it. “These chokers, do all elvas wear them? Are they going to force one on me?”

  “We’re not barbarians,” Lyra said. “Most elvas dream of wearing a necklace. It means you’re loved, and one day, when we marry, we join two clans together.” She frowned and gripped the edge of the table. “It’s an honor, not a punishment. I’m thrilled,” she said with a grimace as if in pain.

  “But there are some deviants who have the necklace forced on them,” Ava said

  Lyra’s right hand wrapped around her necklace and a pained expression appeared on her face. “Sociopaths, who are a danger to themselves and others,” she said and crushed her napkin. “They need structure so that they fit into our community.” Lyra grimaced and turned her head. “It’s for the best,” she said with a shrill voice. As if in agony, she rose to her feet and fled from the room.

  Marion whispered, “Lyra’s parents wanted her to behave in a proper fashion, so they made some adjustments to her necklace.”

  “She used to be so active: running through the woods, hunting, fishing, and fighting daemia.” Ava’s right hand moved to her necklace, and her fingers felt the embossed symbols. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through, having her parents do that to her. My parents pledged their support to me.”

  “That’s not right,” Alex said. “They can’t just change her like that.”

  Marion crossed her arms and legs. “It’s just the way things are. It’s probably for the best. She always got into some dangerous situation or another. They just want to protect her.”

  “There’s a difference between protecting someone and trying to change who they are.” Alex turned around in her chair and stared at the door. “Should we go and see if she’s okay?”

  “She’ll be fine. She has moments like these,” Marion said.

  “They’re getting worse. She has episodes all the time now. Elle thinks Lyra is going insane. They might have to hospitalize her and erase her memories.” Ava wrung her napkin and cringed. “She would forget all of us.”

  “Lyra just needs some time to adjust,” Marion said.

  The door burst open, and Russell strode into the room. “That was a fantastic breakfast.” He rubbed Marion’s shoulders and studied their faces. “What’s the matter with all of you?”

  “Lyra had an episode,” Marion said.

  “Oh, that. I talked to her father, Elas. It’s not right what they are doing to the girl. It is one thing to want your daughter safe, but it is another to screw her head on backward while doing it. We had a heated conversation. He told me that it was none of my business. I told him, ‘The mental health of children is everyone’s concern.’ He stormed away from me.”

  Saria, one of Lyra’s sister, burst into the room. “It’s Lyra. She’s standing on the edge. I think she’s going to jump.” They leaped up from the table and rushed from the room. As they exited the house, they saw Lyra outside the safety ropes. She stood upon the edge of the platform and looked down at the towering heights below her.

  “Please, come back to us,” Aenwyn, Lyra’s mother, pled, tears in her eyes. “You can be whatever you want. I promise. We just wanted you to be safe and happy.”

  Her husband, Elas, charged around the building. He took stock of the situation, and a surge of fear shot through his core. “Baby, come back to us. I promise; I give my word of honor, you may be whatever you wish.”

  “No,” Lyra mumbled. She stared at the shadowy abyss beneath her. Oblivion called her: it urged her to release her grip and forget the trouble of life, to sleep in the sod and heedless of all pain. Lyra leaned forward.

  “STOP!” he shouted and reached out with his right hand. “Have I ever lied to you?” The elva shook her head. “Then believe me now. Things will be different. I’ll be different. Give us another chance. Daughter, I’m begging you.” Elas crept toward her and held out his right hand. “Come back to me, sweetheart.” With a trembling hand, she reached back for her father. He snatched her to him and held her. His face buried in her neck, he sobbed and clung to her. Aenwyn and Saria joined them at the platform’s edge.

  Russell rubbed his face and took a deep breath. “Well, that was a hell of a thing.” They helped Lyra back over the safety rope railing and ushered her toward their house. “Let’s all go back inside the house.” Everyone shuffled inside the home and spoke in hushed conversations.

  “Those necklaces should be banned,” Alex said and crossed her arms.

  “You’ve got the wrong impression.” Russell led them into the great room. “They’ve saved an awful lot of lives.”

  “If they are so great, then why don’t men wear them?”

  The question took Russell by surprise, but he soon recovered. “Eden is full of nightmares. Men are stronger and better able to deal with them. Women need protection.”

  Marion sat near the window and said, “Now Russell, don’t exaggerate.”

  “I’m not. A ghost army attacks us every month or so. Daemia and haugr are a constant threat, and the dark powers are always trying to cast spells on us. I wish I was still on Earth and ignorant of all this.”

  “What was your job back on Earth?” asked Alex as she sat.

  “I analyzed actuarial tables for an insurance company. It was a good job, a bit boring, but it paid well. The most exciting thing I ever did was visit junkyards and appraised automobile safety stats.” He shook his head and sat next to his wife, putting his arm around her. He lapsed into silence and submerged deep into thought. “It’s crazy what people can do to each other.”

  Sam entered the room, cleaning grease from his hands with an old rag. “I was working on lift number two when I heard about the excitement. How is Lyra?”

  “She’s fine, no thanks to her parents,” Russell said. “They’re going to remove the spell they put on her. She will be her wild-child self again in no time.”

  Hank entered and stood behind Sam. When he saw Alex, his eyes locked on her chest, and he kept staring. When Sam noticed, he furrowed his brow and elbowed Hank. Hank took the hint and said, “You sure look nice today.”

  Russell rubbed his index finger beneath his nose and drew in a deep breath. “I’m having second thoughts about your mission. We’ve already sent out three teams, and we have no results to show for it. I was on the first team that conducted a general search of the foothills, and the next two teams made it as far as Mornkul Mountain. All of them turned back at Glanim. Damn, dwarves. They refused to let them enter the mountain.”

  “We might be able to use our new contacts,” Sam said.

  “Your new friends seemed happy to have you gone, and all diplomatic missions have come to nothing. It’s pointless.” He shook his head, sighed, and looked out the window. “We need to evacuate the city.”

  “We should do both,” Sam said. “Make your plans to evacuate, and let us try one last time to reason with the dwarves. I have some ideas that I would like to try. The worst is that we fail the same as the others. There is little to lose and much to gain.”

  “I suppose you’re right. You might be able to get through to those stubborn sons-a-bitches,” Russell said.

  His wife elbowed him. “Now Russell, you’re better than that. I hate to hear you curse.”

  “I suppose.”

  “No supposing about it,” she said and watched a 5-year-old and a 7-year-old wander through the room. “We should evacuate the little ones to Venture Harbor.”

  “I hate to do it, but we have no choice there’s no telling what might come next. We have to be careful, though, every vice known to man is in that city. Just keep them away from the waterfront, up in the banking district. It’s safe and respectable there.” He patted her knee and said, “We should get you packed.”

  “I’m not going. I’m staying here with you,” Marion said.

  “I need to know the children are safe, and no one is going to do a better job at it than you.”

  She paused and sighed, “Okay.”

  “You should go with them,” Sam said to Alex. “There’s no telling what we might run into at the Dragon’s Head.”

  Alex crossed her arms and legs. “We already talked about this. I’m going. I’ve suffered in isolation and grieved by death. I just found civilization, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone destroy it. Besides, you’re going on a diplomatic mission, and the dwarves like me better than you.”

  Sam laughed and nodded. “Yes, they surely do. If we get into the thick of it, I want you to run for cover. Do we have an accord?”

  Her male ego wanted to shake her fist in his face and say, “Hell no.” She imagined herself victorious on the field of battle, standing high atop a pile of dead daemia. However, real combat was a horrible experience and best avoided if one can. Furthermore, the bravest and most skill warrior can die in battle. “Fine, if there is a battle, I’ll stay in the rear.” So I can use my bow and shoot at them from a safe distance, she thought.

  “Good enough,” Sam said with a nod. “I need a couple of days to prepare. I want to send out some messengers to warn them that we are coming. It gives them and me time to ponder the matter.”

  Chapter 4

  Alex wandered Treetop City in a state of awe. Brilliant sunlight beamed through leaf covered branches. Work crews gathered up debris and stuffed them into burlap sacks. Others chatted over mugs of coffee and prepared for a day of harvesting. The ambrosia fruit waited for them, and the vintners readied the presses. Mothers and children scurried over arched bridges, purchasing the food for the day’s main meal. Teenage girls stared at the boys and giggled. The boys spoke in whispers, wondering what made the girls giggle.

  Her right hand glided over the wrought iron railing, and her footfalls met the sturdy wooden bridge. She could walk all day and never see the same sight twice. The city had an apt name for it spread through the tops of the trees. Everywhere she looked, she saw beauty amidst the leaves. In the past, she would have feared the great heights on either side of the bridge, but now she felt like a cat in a tree, safe and at rest.

  The weight of someone’s stare intruded into her revelry. When she glanced over her shoulder, she spotted Hank in the midst of a crowd at the market. He stared at her as if mesmerized. She twitched her nose and sensed the strain in her chest. When she was a man, she often gawked at women, but now, she struggled to remember why.

  Alex quickened her pace, dodging shoppers gathered around market stands. A few elderly women paused to watch her pass but then returned to their chores. Elvas were common in Treetop City, but she was a special gem even among the beautiful. The women wondered, why doesn’t she wear a necklace? She must be of age.

  Everyone who passed her focused on her neck and puzzled. Every elva she saw wore a choker necklace and seemed unfazed by it — as though the circular metal band belonged there, a part of their anatomy. When she ducked into a jewelry store, she knew that she made a mistake. Choker necklaces filled many of the glass cases.

  “Hello to you, young elva,” said Herman. “You’ve arrived.”

  “I have,” Alex replied.

  “My goodness, yes,” he said. He tapped the side of his bulbous nose with his index finger and rubbed his ponderous belly. “From the look of you, you’re an elva of action. Fierce. You live by the code of courage, honor, and duty. When is the festivity planned?”

  “What festivity,” she asked, cocked her head, and narrowed her eyes.

  “The Ascension Ceremony, of course,” he said with a chuckle. “I know. You’ve planned this for years, and you need Henry to find you the perfect necklace. Don’t worry. I won’t fail you.” He put his hands on his hips and surveyed his merchandise. “Ah, here we go.”

  He circled around a display case and slid open a door. He placed a silver choker necklace onto a black velvet pad. “Now this model has a blank center oval for your clan’s crest and unique wings that stretch around the wearer’s neck. My suppler says that it is the mark of a true warrior woman, a Valkyrie. As top embellishments, a woman of action, such as yourself, will want the markings revealed by great deeds ….”

  Alex wanted to break free from the discussion, but when she looked through the window, she saw Hank. His right hand kept returning to his knife handle and caressed it. He searched the crowd, and she knew for whom he searched. She rubbed an itch from her nose and then wrung her hands.

  “… This model, unlike those of common elvas, includes a discreet D-ring, a symbol of your devotion to your master or mistress. A tab secures it to the left side of the oval, and when release, your master may attach a leash to it.” He draped the collar across her hands. “You see how light it is, so slim that the eye can barely behold it when turned sideways. It melds to your skin with perfection and connects to the nervous system without even so much as a pinch.”

  “It has a D-ring. What? Is someone supposed to lead me around by a leash, like a dog?” She crossed her arms and glared at it with disdain.

  “It is the law for female warriors; it’s merely symbolic of your service. Now if you plan to marry for love and start a family, I can show you many fine wedding rings and typical necklaces, which lack a D-ring. Have your father and fiancé stop by, and I can show the best assortment in Treetop City. Every collar comes with a matching signet ring.”

  “Necklaces for warrior women don’t have a matching signet ring?” asked Alex.

  Herman took a deep breath and gazed up at the ceiling. “Well, in that case, there are many necklaces and one ring. When you pledge to a master or mistress, their crest, not your clanks crest, marks your collar with their seal their ownership.”

  “Excuse me,” she said. “They will own me, like a slave?”

  “Hmm … no, nothing like that. Warriors pledge their life to their master or mistress. It’s not in any way like being a slave.” He tapped his chin with his index finger and pondered. “You don’t know much about things, do you?”

  “No. It’s all new and very strange. I just arrived in Treetop City,” she replied.

  “Ah, I see. You’re from some small isolated town.” He took the collar from her and said, “Let’s just try it on for size.” Through the crosshatch window, she saw Hank outside the shop. She cringed and rubbed her cold, sweaty hands on her leather tights. He asked a woman a question: it had to be about her. When the metal circled her neck, she only halfway realized it. “Perfect, no adjustment is required. When will your pledging ceremony take place? I bet your master will be the lord of the House of Celedon.”

  “What? No. I am not pledged to any house, and I don’t have a celebration planned.” Herman rubbed his belly. “I see. You’re a simple Elva with simple tastes. I find that refreshing. You can wear it to go. The Elven Council pays all the fees. You can have your master’s crest embossed later.”

 

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