When the sun once again kissed the treetops, the spy rose and pulled out some more of his rations. “You really don’t trust me, do you? You were awake all night. Under present circumstances, I guess I could understand.”
Taréz still didn’t respond, but shook the fuzziness out of his head. A few his own rations, and he felt ready for the day.
Well, almost. For a normal day, maybe, but not this day.
They put on their tree claws again, but while Taréz was ready to go down the outside of the tree, the spy sang a few notes. A hole formed in the bark, just as Taréz had seen him do a few days before.
But he wasn’t quite sure of being inside a tree alone with an enemy of the state. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll use the conventional route.”
“Oh, by the Great Master! Buy a clue! You’re much easier to kill going down than inside a tree! What am I going to do inside that I couldn’t have done already?”
“I don’t know, and that’s the problem.”
“You can’t follow me if you’re outside and I’m inside. Come on, don’t be stupid.”
“Very well.” Taréz followed the spy into the hole. They moved up, and crossed a number of branch nets, and finally moved inside a hole again to go back down. Carefully, the spy opened the hole, and, deciding it was safe, made it large enough to get out of. They dropped low to a branch net, and looked down.
Tents were less than practical in the dense forest, but camouflaged tarps were unbiquitous. Their pattern of leaf shapes just didn’t quite match the real-life pattern, and couldn’t obscure the sharp edge of the tarps themselves. Good enough to hide from third canopy eyes, but not second canopy. Still, it was impossible to tell the Chief’s tarp. “How do you know this is command central?”
“Watch.”
The watching lasted some moments. Just before Taréz ran out of patience, a dark Vle walked smartly up to the tarp below, and saluted before heading under it. “Ah. Troops wouldn’t salute at their own tent.”
“Details, details.”
“Is our Chief really that full of himself? He hammers on the details all the time.”
“If lack of attention to detail is an indication, then yes, I’d say he is.”
Then, to Taréz’s amazement, an Vle in a colorful robe stepped out. He raised his arms, and chanted in a language Taréz had never heard before. But it was haunting, beautiful, full of impure vowels and fricative consonants. He looked over at his ‘partner.’
“See...?” said the spy, eyes half-mast. His grip on their branch net loosened.
Taréz considered reaching out to grab him, but he couldn’t. Not in light of his decision the previous night. Instead, he just watched as the spy fell from their perch, the haunting chant like a narrative as he fell to the ground.
Only instinct told Taréz to hurry to the top canopy at top speed.
Away from that encampment.
Away from that illegal, immoral mage.
Away from the Vle he’d resolved to kill.

Taréz stood on a high hill over looking a broad meadow. He felt exposed, but he knew he was safe. Below, a battle raged, the red forces vastly outnumbered by theirs in the various blue, purple and yellow of the western kingdoms. It would have been beautiful if not for the fact that the red forces were battling to perserve his throne.
But the sounds were not beautiful. They never were. Elfmen were not meant to scream, but scream they did on both sides as they suffered mortal wounds. Beneath the screams was the clank of metal on metal, a random jumble of sounds
          that slowly became
                    more insistent,
                              regular
                                        and singular.
As he awoke, he realized that the clanging was the announcement of the approach of a rider. How long had the sun been up? He rolled his head to look at Pimber, but she wasn’t there. No surprise; she probably slipped away to her coach to head for the inn under cover of darkness.
It wasn’t very light outside. He pulled aside the covers and got out of bed. “Iyo?”
A rather short Vle entered the room with the royal robe. “Good morning, Sire. Did the bell wake you?”
“Yes, but it’s just as well. My dream was going sour. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, Sire. Stecky is bringing a message to your father.”
“Hmm. News at this time of the morning is never good.” He went out the door toward his father’s chambers. Halfway there, Stecky came up the stairs. “What’s the news?”
“Good news, Sire. Gardric sent a report about his engagement with the humans.”
“Oh?” He followed the acting chamberlain into the room.
“Good news at this time of the morning?” asked the King. “Let us see.”
Stecky handed the scroll to the King, and Taréz read over his father’s shoulder.

Your Majesty,
I am pleased to report my success in repelling the humans. Their strategy had been to harry our coast with ships, and the large boomers mounted on them. The sea is quite shallow some distance out on both sides of the bottleneck, so I commandeered some merchant ships and attacked theirs by night. Their mission: to capture some of the boomers and leave the human ships in ruins. Success on both measures! I then had the boomers brought to the bottleneck.
I also loaded our forces on the commandeered ships and sailed to the western and eastern shores of the bottleneck, where the soldiers disembarked and attacked. Though outnumbered, we won by using the boomers against the rear of the human forces. We were thus able to prevent reinforcements from joining the battle.
I expect to have the peninsula retaken within two weeks.
Your Servant,
Gardric

“Well, the only thing worse than a Gardric is a Gardric with recent victories to brag about! I wonder how instrumental his secret weapon was.”
“It probably wasn’t,” answered Taréz. “It could be that those ‘boomers’ Gardric mentioned were a very good tool to use from outside the range of our secret weapon. That would then be threat number one.”
“So, maybe now that we have weapons, we won’t need the secret weapon?”
“That’s a good thought. I’m glad I’m leaving today.”
“So am I.”

Once again, Taréz found himself near the peninsula. But he had further to go this time; rumors he heard put the battle line anywhere from ten to forty leagues south of the narrowest point of the isthmus. This time, he rode into Hume. That would allow him to walk the main road south, quizzing whomever he might find going the opposite way. Plus, Gardric had mentioned sea battles in the message; maybe Taréz could watch a few.
But neither panned out. He saw no ships at all, and there wasn’t a soul on what should have been a very busy road. He’d expected the battle to reduce traffic, but not so completely!
Then he remembered that the territory he was walking in was more than 80% light Vle, and that most of them were already at the camp.
The sound of thunder was his first clue of his approach to a battle, this time. Since the sky was cloudless, he reasoned that he was hearing the ‘boomers’. Still, he continued on the road for another two leagues before heading into the forest.
He had a different reconnaissance plan this time. When he felt he was as close to the battlegreound as he dared get, he chose a tree. In his pack was a set of tree cleats, which he strapped to his hands and feet. Spread eagle, he headed up the chosen tree.
The trees over the battlefield would be crawling with spies, but only at the second canopy. He would need to be at the third canopy to be relatively safe. Fit as he was, he was breathing heavily by the time he got up that high. The next step was much more time consuming: Finding the command center. On his last foray, he’d walked right past it and never did find it. This time at least, he knew he was still behind it.
The branches overlapped well here, he noted, to his benefit. He started searching in a spiral pattern, always looking out for other Vle. If he met any at this level, he’d know he was close. And, sure enough, he did see an Vle on the ninth tree.
A light Vle.
That was significant. A dark Vle up at this level would be looking for counterspies trying to get around the second canopy spies. The humans weren’t known to be aware of the tree spying tactic, however, plus their physical form made climbing trees next to impossible for them. So, finding a human up here would be unlikely. But the presence of the light Vle meant that they were aware of the tactic.
He spotted another light Vle in the adjacent tree, but what the first lightie did surprised him: he came around to the prince’s side of the tree and hid.
Taréz crept up the tree toward the hiding Vle, who seemed unaware of the approach. Then came another surprise: with a few soft vocal notes, the bark of the tree opened. The hiding Vle further ensconced himself in the hole, and then the hole closed.
Taréz froze. A treesinger. Conceivably, the light Vle could move the hole to where the prince perched, open the hole, and attack! Three hundred heartbeats later, however, no attack had come, and he felt safe again. He looked around carefully, and, seeing no evidence of the second light Vle, he continued his spiral pattern.
The sound of battle began to fade with the light in the forest. Far above him, the sun still lit the highest leaves, but on the ground below, it was getting difficult to see. So, Taréz headed upward to the very highest canopy. There, he slung his tent and sleeping bag, to wait out the night.
At least he wouldn’t have to worry about curious humans in the early morning.

He woke with the sun, long before any of the light reached the ground. But, as was the pattern, the battle had already begun. Quickly, and without breakfast, he struck his hanging camp and headed down. Right then would be best time to see the secret weapon at work, if he was lucky. He continued his spiral pattern.
There were no spies at first, but as his oppportunity slipped by, he did come across some. Mostly, they preferred to remain as hidden as the the prince himself.
He also noted that the spiral was getting very ineffective at the north end, and even less effective at the south end. So, he adjusted it, so that he was now traveling in ovals, going a little bit further south each time.
Still nothing.
When the sun was at its northernmost point, he finally decided to take a break. This he did in the fourth canopy. It was a simple meal of dried thaleberries and rabbit jerky, but it sufficed to quiet his stomach.
Just as he was repacking his backpack, a hole in the tree opened.
He froze.
The light Vle inside came out, almost cavlierly. “I’ve been watching you,” he began.
“That is what spies do.”
“Yes. But I found your behavior interesting. Trained spies don’t move in patterns.”
“I was pressed into service.” Taréz maintained calm in his voice, but couldn’t keep out the skepticism. If he was so predictable, why didn’t this light Vle kill him? In a forest battle, it wasn’t unusual to see a spy come crashing to the ground, dead.
“I don't think so. I think you’re a counterspy, of some sort. You’re looking for something.”
“What is it to you?”
“I was thinking we might work together.”
“Sorry, I’m not a traitor.”
“No, but you don’t hate light Vle. You don’t kill them.”
Taréz refused to be prodded for information. “Again, I ask, What is it to you?”
“I want to find out why our troops can’t fight for more than two hours without getting lethargic. To do that, I have to find command central. And you’re searching for that, as well.”
Right then Taréz wished he hadn’t been the only person available for the job. “Now tell me why I shouldn’t just kill you for a spy.”
“Because you're untrained. You need my help, however loyal you wish to be.”
Burn it! This Vle was good. “And if I’m so untrained, what help can I be?”
“You can identify who’s who.”
“You know you’re asking too much. You’ll just return with assassins.”
The light Vle didn’t respond at first, which was all the affirmation Taréz needed.
“What if you only identify the mage for me?”
“The what?!” Tarez's eyes felt as if they were popping out. How much did the light elves know, how did they know, and most of all, that a mage existed among the dark Vle...
“Oh, come now, you can’t tell me you don’t know what’s been going on.”
The spy was right. Taréz couldn’t tell him that, even though it was true. “You have a deal.”
“Glad to hear it. Come.”
As Taréz followed, he mulled over what this spy had said. Not that a spy could be trusted, but it fit the facts. Magic! The Great Master himself had proclaimed against its use. While no one was ever stoned for using magic any more, it was illegal, and contrary to all codes of war.
Where would Gardric have found even one mage, let alone enough for every front?!
Taréz was glad for his impatience— for it helped him keep up his ‘partner’s’ pace. Until he actually saw the mage, however the Vle might look, he couldn’t quite believe it to be true.
It was a long path to the command center, especially since the spy refused to travel in even an approximately straight line. Suddenly, as the sunlight began to fade below, the spy stopped. “We’ll camp here and look in the morning.”
“What?! I have a mission to accomplish!”
“Well, you’re not going to accomplish it in the dark.”
“What kind of spy are you? Now’s the perfect time.”
“Wrong! This is the worst time. Their- your- spies get thicker, because they think this is the perfect time. Not to mention all the troops coming back to report, and such. More eyes and ears. By the Great Master are you lucky I came along!”
Taréz couldn’t disagree, but it darkened his heart. There was a prayer to be said, a dilemma to be solved tonight. The spy tried to make whispered conversation, over dinner, but the prince spared no thought for response.
He hardly slept a wink.

Prince

Back in the royal stable, Taréz finally dismounted, with not a little pain. “Greetings, Your Highness,” said the horsemaster. “Did you get lost?”
Taréz allowed a chuckle. “No, though I did occasionally wonder what I was doing there.”
“He seems to have been well cared for,” said the elder Vle. “You must have paid the stablehand something equaling my salary.”
Always trying for a raise, especially now that there was no promotion left. “Actually, it was ten times as much.” Fight the absurd with absurd. And with that comment, Taréz headed for the castle.
His father was waiting for him at the door, showing uncharacteristic anxiety. “Did you learn anything?”
“Well, yes and no.” Taréz wasn’t sure he should go further in the earshot of the servants.
“Come on up to my chambers and we’ll discuss it.” Turning, the King continued as they walked upstairs. “Was it an easy journey?”
“Very easy. We have a peaceful interior, father. I guess that’s something to thank the Great Master for.”
“Indeed.”
Taréz closed the door to the royal chamber behind them. “I wish I could say I was successful. It was a rather long ride to take for nothing.”
“You said, ‘yes and no,’ so you learned something, right?”
“Yes, though it just deepens the mystery. I actually spent the nights on the battlefield—”
“You what?! That’s insane!”
“It made for dangerous mornings,” Taréz acknowledged with a nod. “But it enabled me to see that the human troops start out just as ready for battle as our troops. But within a few hours of attack, the humans can hardly stand, while our troops are even more robust than when they woke.”
“Almost as if their life force is being stolen.”
Taréz was stunned. How could his father conceive such an idea? It fit the facts... “But what agent would create such an effect?”
“You’ve got to try to find out. Again.”
“Not try. Will. I will find out, Father. Any news of the war effort?”
The King grumbled. “No, but the eastern nobles claim to have broken away. They’re siding with the dwarves, and no longer allowing the trolls through.”
“You don’t mean they’re now aiding the dwarves on that war front?!”
“No, thankfully. We no longer have their troop support in the war effort, but it does mean we have one less war front to fight.”
Stecky tapped on the door as he stepped into the chamber. “Your Majesty, it’s about that time.”
“Ah, yes, I should start my bath. Is the water ready?”
“It will be right about the time you are.”
“Thank you, Stecky. Anything else to report?” Normally, a bath was not in the chamberlain’s scope of duties.
“Yes, Sire. We’ve received confirmations from all the invited guests—”
“Even the eastern nobles?” Taréz interrupted.
Stecky smiled. “Yes, even Pimber will be attending. Also, the orchestra has announced they will doing some original music.”
The King's good mood had returned. “Excellent. Excellent! Stecky! Send a message to Baldia- I think it’s safe for Fylen to come back!” The King bounced as much as such a portly Vle could as he left for the bathing room, leaving his son to chuckle quietly.

Only a few hours later, Taréz watched the jumble of carriages from a new vantage point: Up on the balcony with his father. Below, it seemed as chaotic as it had before the flaming Proclamation. Back then, that would have peeved him a bit, but now he realized the jumble was a little different: There was actually less posturing and more graciousness. He watched more closely, and saw that the only ones posturing with their carriages were the westernmost nobles.
Odd.
Nonetheless, he was tickled and his anticipation for the evening to get under way rose. He headed toward the stairs, to go down and greet the guests. The protocol was a bit different, this time: Instead of a welcome from the stairs, the King would be giving the welcome from the head of the table. So, everyone filed into the dining hall, and waited.
The doors opened. The King stepped in. Everyone, standing, bowed. He walked slowly to the head of the table (at the end of the room). A servant pulled out his chair. He took his spot. “Lords and ladies, I welcome you to this joyous occasion, as we mark the establishment of our hierarchical monarchy.” He picked up his fork. He tapped his wine glass. He sat.
As the most esteemed noble in attendance beside the King, Lord Varabia was obliged to begin the conversation. “So, Your Majesty, when do you expect to let the light Vle out?”
Leave it to Varabia to be direct even with the conversation opener. “Well, as soon as the war is over, I suspect.”
“Will that be soon?”
“By the Great Master, I hope so.”
The Lord of Creaz took his turn. “Do you intend to expand our borders beyond the Western Rib?”
“No,” replied the King, shaking his head sharply. “The last thing I want to do is take on more citizens with a grudge. The rib served as a pretty good border against that grudge before, so I really think we ought to keep it.”
“I hear the Chief intends to extend Larmania all the way to the coast, and thin the population as he goes,” said the Lord of Lacigia.
He was a little early with his turn, but the boldness of such a military move obscured that fact. “No, he won’t go that far. If I have to, I’ll remove him from his position.”
“How far do you intend to go?” Varabia again.
“Well, he has told me that we need to strike out onto the plains somewhat, to show that we’re still strong and not to be trifled with. And given his successes, I think we probably could. Even so, fighting through the mountains would be dangerous, I think.”
“What about Zvalja?”
“The not-so-neutral-after-all former fence-straddlers? I must admit, I don’t know yet. My Librarian is preparing a report on precedence. Not that there is much.”
Taréz looked around the table. It was a tricky thing for a King to say he didn’t know, but some of the most remembered, wise kings of history took time to make their decisions. So maybe the next day his father would actually have his librarian work on such a report, or maybe not. In the meantime, the guests seemed satisfied with his answers and ready to move on to cheerier, lighter subjects. And the matter of the light Vle had just possibly been forgotten completely.
“Your Majesty, may I inquire about another matter?” asked Opar, Lord of Percivi.
“Of course.”
“We’ve had a surprising number of trolls come through, but all had invitational papers. Is there something I don’t know about?”
“Apparently so,” replied the King.
The Lords of Percivi were known to be aloof from the events going on in their holdings, so Taréz knew this to mean there were huge numbers of trolls moving through. And this would really unsettle the people there, given many years of past trouble along that border. “We’re sending them to the mines. It’s a very large part of our financial future— our banks posted new gains just today, in fact. We pay them with the metals they mine, and also buy more weapons.”
“Oh.”
“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” Hilonia interjected, “but my... meager economic studies tell me that raw materials are far less valuable than the finished product. How can we afford all this?”
“Because one of the metals involved is thale, which we can also sell, and we still have workable gold mines. Those humans love gold, for some reason.”
Most of the nobles chuckled at the irony. Humans still held the peninsula quite strongly... and then they sobered. Neither The Most Reverend Harras, Lord of Kezantopil, nor Thekla, Lord of the Peninsula, could be there that evening.
“Gardric will free the Peninsula from the Humans soon,” the King offered. “At last report, he was bringing his secret strategy to bear on the bottleneck.”
“Do you know the nature of this secret strategy? No intelligence of mine can divine it,” asked Lacigia.
“No, I don’t. If he feels it’s important to keep it a secret, then I’ll let him have the secret until war’s end. His family has been known for the dramatic.”
Taréz kept a smile off his face, so as not to betray his own work to uncover the secret.
“Well,” said Varabia, dropping a cleaned bone onto his plate. “I for one, am worried. But, let’s not let that worry get in the way of a great celebration, shall we?”
“Not at all, Varabia. I suggest we adjoin this dinner, and ready ourselves for an evening of dancing and music. All in favor say Aye?”
“Aye!” was the staggered but enthusiastic response.

The small orchestra played very enthusiastically that evening, and even included some energetic peasant music. Balls in the past had included some peasant music before, but never had participation been so high. Taréz floated around the room, as he usually did, choosing whoever caught his fancy, but he only danced twelve danced before meeting Pimber again.
With a warm smile, she said, “Good evening, Your Highness.”
“Good evening. Would you care to dance?”
“Only if that is an invitation for the rest of the evening.”
“You drive a hard bargain. You might make a good queen.” He pulled her out onto the dance floor, grateful for the slower, more familiar tlora music. He’d need the brain power for the verbal dance that was starting.
She laughed lightly. “Your Highness! You should know better than to speculate on such matters.”
“It is the male mind. Our very dreams are speculation.”
“It is useless to speculate without parental involvement.”
“You know as well as I that the prince can elope whenever he wishes.”
“Ah! So, the Prince wishes to elope with me, is that it? Under the circumstances, that may not be wise.”
Taréz chose not to allow politics into his enjoyment of the evening. “No comment,” he replied with a mischievous grin.
Just then, the orchestra kicked in with another peasant dance number, and the dance shifted back to their feet. The rest of the evening flew by, until the dance shifted one more time... into the prince’s personal quarters.

Mecora paid no attention as they jumped from tree, to tree, to tree, to tree. Instead, her conscience filled her with guilt, the feeling that she ought to be with her family. But another string voice inside told her it was better to be with Spreak. Better to be free. And he supported her, comforted her, loved her.
Mecora stopped at the end of a branch net. Where on earth had that thought come from?!
Spreak had already leapt down to the next branch net. “Mecora! What’s wrong?”
She peered over the edge of the net. “Spreak? Do you love me?”
“Love you? Why are you asking that now?”
“I dunno, I just thought of it.” She paused for an answer, but didn’t get one. “Well, do you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just answer the question!”
“Okay, fine. I love you. So, can we continue now?”
It was hardly a heartfelt response, but she asked, “You think we’re still in danger?”
“I thought you wanted to get well away from there.”
“I do.”
“Well, We’re not yet where we’re going.”
“Oh.” Carefully, she jumped to the branch Spreak was on, and their travel continued.
Finally, Spreak opened a tree tunnel to a branch to nowhere. Below, there was only water. They had returned to the lake.
“I thought we might stay here for a while. You seemed to like it,” he explained.
“Yeah, I did. I do.” She went out on the branch, about as far as she dared without a net. “It’s even more beautiful from up here.”
“And we can watch sunrises every morning.”
“That sounds romantic, Spreak.”
“Oh, cut that out,” he replied, but he had a big nervous grin on his face.
“I wanna go swimming again.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”

That night, after another rabbit dinner, they settled into their tree hole for the night. She lay to his left as she always did. But instead of falling asleep, Mecora’s thoughts kept her awake, still thinking of her family. She was glad of the darkness as tears rolled down her cheeks. Sniff.
Spreak took her left hand, and held it. That one gesture seemed to open up a floodgate, and with a sob, she rolled to hug him tightly.
She cried herself to sleep.

Light diffused into the room as Mecora woke. She took a deep breath, and smiled as the smell of flatcakes filled her nose. She didn’t waste much time getting up and going to the front room. “Mmm, good morning.”
Her mom glanced over at her. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. I haven’t slept like that in so long.... It’s hard to sleep in a tree, you know. Can’t lie flat.” And then, with a pang, she thought of Spreak. Would he be worried about her? Suddenly the flatcakes didn’t seem as tempting... but not long, as her mother got out the fruit syrup.
She decided to give in to temptation and sit down.
“Boys? Breakfast is ready!” she called.
A half beat and the two came out. As they came around the stove, their eyes brightened. “Mecora!” they chorused, running over to hug her.
Awkwardly she held onto both and put down her utensil at the same time. “Did you two actually miss me?”
“Yeah!”
With all the trouble she’d given them? Dumb kids... And yet, “It’s nice to see you, too. Now go on, you’d better sit down and eat.”
They heartily obeyed, and Mecora went back to enjoying her own breakfast. Soon, her mother joined them. It was quiet at the table, except for the smacking sounds and clacking of wood on wood the two boys made. It seemed there was nothing to say. Anything about the weather or events in town seemed so contrite.
But curiosity forced Mecora to try anyway. “Wasn’t there an election of elders recently?”
“Yes. Linna is the new elder.”
“No one got voted out.”
“Of course not.”
“No, of course not.” It would take something pretty awful to get an elder voted out, Mecora reflected.
“You were hoping for a more friendly environment to bring Spreak into,” her mother accused.
“The thought had crossed my mind. He’d like to live in a real house with a kitchen and a sleeping room, even if it isn’t really home.”
“Well, not this house. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” Mecora could feel the anger rising.
“Well, I am! I’ve told you-”
Suddenly, the clank of metal on metal, a strange, sharp thunder, shouting, horns, a rhythmic thwunking and elfmen screaming made its way in from outside. They all went to the window, in time to see a flaming arrow rise over the platform and hit their door. Their door was aflame! Panic froze them.
And then Spreak was there. “Come on! You have to get out of here!”
“Spreak!” Mecora tore from the huddled group and went to hug him. But her family just stood there at the window.
“It’s your army, here to rescue you, isn’t it?” asked Mecora’s mother.
“No, it’s not. It’s a human force. And they’re going to kill everybody here if we don’t get out now!”
“And you expect me to trust you? You who twisted my daughter?”
A look of dark desperation crossed Spreak’s face, a look Mecora had never seen on him before. “Fine. Good luck.” He sang one, single, awful note, shattering the front wall. Then, he turned and went back to the hole in the back room wall...
...leaving Mecora to decide. With Spreak, she would be safer, she knew. And she also knew there would be no way to convince her mother. Another flaming arrow flew through the hole in the wall and hit the opposite wall. Their time was up; her mother ducked outside.
And she went to Spreak’s hole in the back.

From an adjacent tree, they watched the terrible scene below. The armies filled every bit of ground, trampling all the undergrowth, as well as their dead comrades. Fires burned in every part of town as Vle ran to and fro, trying to find safety. There wasn’t much to be found. Vle archers shot as many humans as they could, while human soldiers sought the archers to neutralize the overhead threat; and below human archers fired their flaming arrows.
“Those humans aren’t fighting fair! They can’t burn our village like that! The whole forest might burn down!”
“I once read that humans don’t have forests like ours. They cut them down a long time ago to make vast fields for growing grain.”
“How sad.”
“Well, their trees don’t get nearly as big, anyway.”
“It’s still sad. How can they live like that?”
“I imagine they wonder how we can live in the trees all the time.”
“Are you defending them to me?”
Spreak shrugged, and swallowed. “They’re on my side,” he replied quietly.
Hearing him use the word ‘my’ that way surprised her, but she said nothing. Instead, she tried to pick her mother out of the chaos below, but it was impossible.
There was a general movement toward the monastery, and she could see a crowd clamoring to be let onto the platform. As yet, the monastery was untouched by fire, perhaps because the Vle archers had never gotten there in the first place. So the crowd on the narrow stairway grew, then spilled across the connecting bridge.
Meanwhile, the battle moved on. The Vle archers lost their lives, and all the live combatants visible below were human. Most of the houses and shops visible were burned out, and the platforms were dangerous to walk on. Faintly, a human voice announced in halting Vle that all those on the stairs were prisoners of war and were to obey all further commands.
“Spreak, there’s got to be some way to save my mom!”
“I don’t think so.”
“Please?!”
“What would you have us do? Spring out of a hole and drag her away in plain sight of the guards? And you know as well as I do she won’t come with us anyway.”
It hurt, but Mecora had to admit he was right. “Well, let’s just get out of here, then.”
“To where?”
“I don’t care. Just away.”
Spreak nodded, and sang.

Girl

The familiar platforms of Kelwome beckoned below Mecora and Spreak. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’d like to have some bread, some cooked food...”
“You actually want to me to go down there?”
“Well, no... I mean, if you don’t want to...”
“No. I’m not going down there.”
“So, now what?”
“I dunno.”
“Well, there’s no point in being here if we’re not going to go down there. Let’s go back to the lake.”
The lake? Mecora slowly shook her head, becoming somewhat sure she didn’t really want to go there. No reason why, specifically. She just didn’t want to go.
“Somewhere we haven’t been before, then? We could go west.”
Nah, that wasn’t an attractive idea, either. She shook her head, a bit more sharply this time.
“Mecora, why don’t you see if you can’t talk to your mom?”
“What good would that do? We’ll just get into an argument again.”
“You don’t know that. Just be respectful and don’t let her make you mad. Remember, she just wants what’s right for you.”
“But what she thinks is right is wrong!!”
“So agree to disagree. Just make peace.”
“Do I have to right now?”
“Of course not. But we’re leaving forever if you don’t tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
Spreak sang, and their hole moved down to just above rooftop level. “You can go out when it gets dark.”

The sun set, sending first their hole and then the forest into darkness. Glowworm lanterns lit the platforms as the dark Vle went about their evening pleasures... and Mecora watched it all through the hole. Things were actually hopping. She just sat and watched for a while. The music got louder, the platforms got more crowded, and some of the Vle got drunker. Then, things reversed as they either went home or passed out. Finally, no one was moving, and the glowworms were themselves going to sleep.
In the dwindling wormlight, she squeezed out of the hole onto the roof. As quietly as she could, she hopped down to the platform and headed for her mother’s home.
What on earth was she going to say when she got there?
She reached the apartment, but didn’t go in right away. A beat; two, while she finalized her plan.
Three. She opened the door, hoping with every ounce of her being that it wouldn’t creak. Wider. Wider. Wider.
Her mom was sitting there at the table in the light of a single candle. “Mom!” she gasped.
“How can you make me live like this, Mecora?”
“How can the King make light Vle live without freedom?”
“It’s not our place to say, but it is my place to say how you live. I’m your mother.”
“I know. And I really don’t mean to hurt you.” To her surprise, Mecora realized she truly meant that.
Her mother didn’t reply.
So, what then? They weren’t yelling. Did that mean they’d reconciled, just like that? She opened the door a bit more and actually stepped in.
“So, are you going to stay now?”
“I can’t. Spreak is still out there.”
“How have you been eating?”
“Rabbits, berries, fish... we;’ve actually gotten pretty good at it. We miss bread, though.”
“So, what does he need you for?”
“Companionship.”
Her mother’s face went dark. “What kind of companionship?”
“Mom!” she whined, “not that kind of companionship!”
“So, where is he from?”
“Varmac. He was on vacation with his family when the Proclamation came out, and they were captured and only he got away.”
“How do you know he’s telling the truth?”
“I just know!” Although, to be honest to herself, she’d never actually considered he might not be. On the other hand, why would he lie about that?
“So, if he’s not from Larmania, then he must be from one of the litie countries, and he could just be a spy.”
“Mom! What on earth is there to spy on around here?!” Nothing! She knew she was right about that.
“How am I supposed to know? That’s his job.”
“Mother...” she warned.
“All right, all right. You just never know.”
“What I know is that the Elders get together to judge if someone is guilty, and until then we have to assume they’re innocent.”
Her mother sighed, and went misty-eyed for a moment. “What happened to the party hearty Mecora I once knew?”
“She woke up.” Mecora paused. “You can’t tell me you loved that Mecora more. I know I worried you a lot.”
“Yes, you did, but I knew you. I was familiar with that Mecora. But I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“Well, I hope we can get to know each other better.”
“So, to ask again, does that mean you’re going to stay?”
“No. I don’t think I can.”
“I didn’t think so—”
“But maybe just tonight.”
Quietly, they went to the back room and resumed the old sleeping arrangement.