The Year of the Firefly - Books 1-3

By GeAnn Powers

The first three books in 'The Year of the Firefly', a series of fantasy novels by GeAnn Powers, now available in one volume!

The String Bean And The Firefly: Fairy princess Ariel's life has been one of hunger and fear. Soon, she'll have to choose one of her ruthless barbarian kin to marry, and be condemned to a life of servitude. Basil is a well-educated young elf, used to a life of books, warmth and friendship. With his pack full of vials and potions, he just wants to get home. After a chance encounter in a spider's web, their lives entangle, and their worlds will never be the same again.

The Keeper And The Firefly: In a world where learning is forbidden, fairy princess Ariel takes risks everything to explore the knowledge available among the elves from the other side of the valley. Keeper, the patriarch of her new band of friends, warns Ariel of the dangerous path she's on. Ariel faces a difficult choice: should she return to the barbaric colony she came from, or quench her awakened thirst for knowledge? In a captivating tale of alliances and self-discovery, Ariel and Keeper form an unlikely pact that will change their lives forever.

The Rapha And The Firefly: Ariel sets on a transformative journey, learning various skills from the compassionate Rapha. Together with Rosie the gnome and Sage the tree sprite, Ariel is exposed to a world where knowledge and community are paramount. But because of his haunting memories, Keeper still struggles to trust Ariel. Soon, the Rapha begin to reconsider their own stories and beliefs, and Keeper has to face his past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Next Chapter
• Release date: Nov 18, 2023

Book preview

The Year of the Firefly

The Year of the Firefly

BOOKS 1-3

GEANN POWERS

Copyright (C) 2023 GeAnn Powers

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2023 by Next Chapter

Published 2023 by Next Chapter

Images by GeAnn Powers

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

The Book of Elyon is a work of fiction. While loosely based on the Biblical scripture and events, the author is not implying The Book of Elyon is canon or holy scripture, but is her conception of what elven scripture might look like.

Contents

Types of Elves and Fairies

The Two Communities

The String Bean And The Firefly

Dill, Ariel, and Basil

1. The Spider

2. An Arrangement

3. Lessons

4. Petitions

5. Outside the Woodpecker Hole

6. Beyond the Door

7. The Wheel Above the Wheel and a Blackberry Tart

8. First Rounds

9. Tanner

10. The Weavers

11. Dill

12. Kaleidoscope

13. A Discussion and a Necklace

14. Ariel and Dill

15. Songs And Tarts

16. In the Beginning…

17. Dill Makes a Discovery

18. Calling in the Healers

19. The Barfing Nymph and the Ongoing Quest for Elyon

20. Visitors

21. Melodies

22. Sunday

23. The Angry Potter

24. The War of the Guardians

25. Continuing Lessons

The Keeper And The Firefly

The Main Cast of Characters

Ariel and the Bee

1. A Flyer Named Ariel

2. The Second Spider

3. The Beautiful Creation

4. The Bees

5. Keeper

6. At Keeper’s Abode

7. Keeper’s Confession

8. Discussions Between Friends

9. Gray

10. What Basil Found Out Upon Awakening

11. Where’s Ariel?

12. Memories

13. Ariel’s Lament

14. Thunder

15. What Happened at The Point

16. Ariel’s Lamentation

17. A Bath and a Returning Flyer

18. The Challenge

19. A New Arrangement

20. The Alliance

21. Songs and Juggling, and Ariel Finds Her Talent

22. Flyers Washing Dishes

23. 10 Moons

The Rapha And The Firefly

The Main Cast of Characters

1. Another Sunday

2. Gossip Rummy

3. The Old Cinder Block

4. Remembering Elyon

5. Rosie

6. The Bath

7. The Rise of the Swan and the Return of the Ugly Duckling

8. The Story of the Fall

9. Discussions with a Chameleon

10. Sage

11. Boxelder and Aunt Fern

12. Why Not Let Them Die?

13. First Family

14. Thyme

15. Michelle

16. Tanner’s Apprentice

17. Having Cookies with a Chameleon

18. Tanner’s Memories

19. Abel’s Garden

20. Grandma

21. Poisoned Jam

22. A Tiff Between Friends

23. A Flautist or a Flutist has a Song to Share

24. The Return of Dark Memories

25. Comfort from a Chameleon

26. Reconnaissance

27. Assembly?

28. Repercussions

29. Ariel’s Defense

30. Banished!

31. Not Being Idle

About the Author

Types of Elves and Fairies

Hopper: 5-6 ½ inches tall. Type of pixie. Has pointed ears, and travels by leaping (or flying on birds). Can read others by sense of touch.

Flyer: 5-6 inches tall. Winged fairy. Has antennae and wings that retract and fold against the back.

Wood Sprite: 6 ½-8 inches tall. The giant elf. Has a spotted body. Can read plants and the earth for tracking purposes. Also phases into items and travels through organic matter, but not rock or metal.

Water Nymph: 5-6 ½ inches tall. Travels in water. Has fur, gills, whiskers, webbed fingers and toes, and a serpentine tail. Can talk to fish and aquatic animals.

Gnome: 5-6 ½ inches tall. Does not have pointed ears. Can talk to most animals and uses them for transportation (generally flies on birds).

The Two Communities

Plains’ Keepers: Elves who make up the main community. These peaceful elves have an alliance to work together and protect the valley. Most are on friendly terms with fellow elves of all types.

The Colony: The flyer clan which are Ariel’s people. This barbaric community lives together in an old barn on the outer edge of the Plains’ Keeper territory. The women and children in the clan have few rights. Reading, as well as socializing with non-flyers, is strictly forbidden and punishable by death.

The String Bean And The Firefly

THE YEAR OF THE FIREFLY BOOK 1

For Ernie:

my life, my love, my friend. Thanks for believing in me.

And for the Word Weavers of North Grand Rapids: Terry, Chris, Doug, Darlene, Teresa L, Richard, Karen, Avonlea, Cynthia, Teresa J, Anne, and Dianna.

If it wasn’t for you, this story may have never seen print. Thanks, and may you never run out of stories to tell.

Dill, Ariel, and Basil

Chapter 1

The Spider

1ST WEEK OF APRIL

What was done could not be undone.

She’d broken the knife. She hadn’t intended to, and the whole fairy colony was staring at her.

It wouldn’t have happened if Dragon hadn’t wanted a kiss! she grumbled, but it was too late.

In the half-light of early morning, the adult males of the tribe gathered in the middle of their barn home, forming a hunting party. As they prepared to leave, they each wanted good luck kisses from their women. Unlike kisses of affection, these were more about ownership. A reminder that the males were the ones in charge, with all the power, and the women better do as they were told.

Give me a kiss, Ariel! Dragon barked at her.

Ariel stood outside the group, holding a spear of her own. Of course, she wasn’t going with the hunting party because she wasn’t a male. She was only fifteen and not yet an adult. Still, she planned to hunt for herself after they left.

She glared at Dragon. At six inches, he was half a head taller than her, but she wasn’t intimidated.

I’m not your wife, she reminded him.

You will be soon enough. So, you’d better get used to doing as I tell you.

"I’m not your wife." They weren’t betrothed, but everyone expected them to be. Dragon acted like they were.

He wasn’t pleased with her response. Give me a kiss! he demanded.

Ariel glared at him, defiance pulsing in her every fiber. She was NOT his property. Not yet anyway. She shook her head.

That didn’t improve Dragon’s attitude, but it did get him moving. He charged at her, determined to catch her and force her compliance.

She dodged out of his way and darted around behind some of the others. He followed and the cat-and-mouse game continued. But when Ariel dove behind her father, she accidentally knocked his arm hard enough to send his knife flying from his hand of its own accord.

The glass blade, formed from a shard of a blue bottle, was very rare. Her father took great pride in that knife. In hitting his arm, Ariel sent the knife on an unfortunate journey into the one hard object in the area: a cement block. The blade tip snapped off on impact, rendering the shard useless.

Now, the whole hunting party and their women stared.

Dragon smirked.

Ariel really didn’t care about him at the moment. What she did focus on was her father. At first, he looked surprised as his weapon unexpectedly escaped his grasp. His expression turned to shock when the instrument betrayed him by breaking. But now, now that the full implications of the tool’s uselessness sank in, anger quickly sprouted, and he turned accusing eyes on his youngest daughter.

Ariel shrank under his glare. Being caught by that look was never a good thing. She turned and ran. Past her father, past Dragon and the other hunters. As soon as she was out of the cluster, she spread her wings and took to the air. The girl flew over the other flyer fairies, gathered in their groups on the floor of the old barn, nesting in the tools and instruments rotting where they hung forgotten on the walls and perching among the weakening rafters. Up to the top of the hayloft, wings beating rapidly, and out the opening where the door had rotted away long ago. She paused in her flight then, wings spread wide and still. There was a second of freefall before the wind current caught her and lifted her up and away from her barn home.

The barn sat forgotten in the back field of a small Kansas buffalo ranch. The fifty temperamental bison that called the ranch their home, were lazing their way across the twenty-acre meadow to where their owner’s pickup slowly bumped its way to their feeding area with a load of hay. There was little chance of the driver seeing one sparrow-sized girl, but she avoided heading his direction anyway.

She also knew better than to fly near the two-lane road with its early morning traffic of occasional semi-trucks, pickups and combines taking farmers to their fields. She didn’t like chancing becoming a smear on their grill or windshield as they drove past at 50 mph. Likewise, she stayed away from the noisy train chugging its way past the farms dotting the landscape with its cargo of goods headed to Wichita. Instead, she zoomed towards the grove of trees that bordered the field and followed the creek housed there until, at last, she lightly landed beside the softly babbling stream.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! she chastised herself. And it's not even fair! It wasn’t my fault! It was because of Dragon!

She sat down on the bank, wrapped her arms around her legs, put down her head and fumed. She would be punished. There was no doubt of that. The knife was rare and her father’s prized possession. The punishment would be severe! Worst of all, Dragon would be sure to watch, laughing the whole time! Oh, how she hated him! He was spiteful and a bully. And he expected her to marry him someday!

I gotta find something, Ariel told herself. Something to help make up for the broken knife. Something special. Then maybe it won’t be so bad. And Dragon won’t get to laugh.

She sprang up and took to the air again, her eyes frantically darting in every direction as she sped through the grove. What could she bring back? A robin’s egg? No, too common. A freshly killed mouse for dinner? Maybe. But that would be a heavy load to take back on her own. Perhaps the rubbish heap behind the neighboring farmhouse might have a treasure hidden there for her.

She suddenly stopped, stunned at what she spotted nestled in the crook of a tree. There was something very uncommon indeed!

It was an elf, but not anything like her. He wasn’t a flyer because he didn’t have wings. He was paler than anyone she’d ever seen, and he was asleep. She hovered there staring.

He looked to be a few years older than her. His hair was the color of sun-bleached wheat. He didn’t have antenna on his head like she did, and his ears were pointed. His clothes looked like a tiny version of what a human might wear: shirt and pants, a cloak, a straw hat, and boots. Oh! What magnificent boots! Hers were mere scraps of fur tied on with old string. His boots were leather and beautiful!

She stared at the boots. If there was a way to get them, her father would definitely be pleased with her. But would they fit? This elf wasn’t as big as her father was. And could she possibly get them without waking him? She doubted it.

Disappointed, she scrutinating the elf, and once again, her gaze froze. He was leaning against a backpack. She couldn’t imagine what it held, but she knew there was no way to get it. Behind it was an ornate walking stick wedged tight between the pack and the tree trunk. That was a possibility, but it would take time to work it free. She looked further and zeroed in on an incredible prize: there on his belt, was a sheaf with a knife in it! She couldn’t take the sheaf, but procuring the knife was highly possible!

Silently, she fluttered closer to the sleeping elf. Biting her lip, she slowly grasped the knife handle, and pulled. The knife didn’t come out. She hadn’t noticed the strap across the handle, holding the knife securely in place. Her tugging had no effect on the knife’s location but had a definite impact on its owner.

The elf woke up. His eyes locked with the flyer’s, startled. What are you doing?! he demanded and jerked away from her, lost his balance, and tumbled out of the tree. The backpack and walking stick slid off the branch and decided to join him.

The elf landed on his feet, unharmed twenty feet below. He freed himself from the tangle of his cloak as his walking stick clattered to the ground beside him. The young male caught the falling knapsack, the weight of which knocked him flat on his back. Slowly, he sat up and glared at the young female.

Ariel glared back. There was no way she was getting the knife now.

Who are you? the stranger demanded. What were you doing up there?

Nothing, she lied. "Who are you? And what were you doing in a tree?"

I was sleeping. He quickly checked the sun’s position. It’s not even seven o’clock yet!

Ariel had no idea what seven o’clock meant, but she wasn’t going to let this stranger know. She lifted her chin high and glared at the boy with royal poise as she drifted down to the ground. "I’m the Princess Ariel, daughter of SkyKing, the ruler of this land and sky."

I'm honored, the stranger replied as he looked at the example of flyer royalty. His tone said he was anything but honored.

Despite her princess-ness, Ariel suddenly felt very inferior. His hair was smooth and clean; hers was a ratted mess and never washed. His clothes were neat and fancy-looking; she wore filthy skins for a tunic. He was free of any dirt; she was caked with days-old mud. Everyone in her tribe was ragged and filthy. No one ever thought anything of it. But here now, in front of this complete stranger, she felt ashamed.

"Who are you? she shouted. And why were you up there?"

"My name is Basil, and I was sleeping."

She scoffed at that. Bay-zil? That’s a plant! You were named after a plant?

The boy didn’t respond other than to raise an eyebrow.

The princess looked him over again. You don’t have any wings. What are you?

A hopper.

The girl snorted. She’d heard of these lesser elves. A type of pixie that hopped like a grasshopper. She’d never seen one before. She drilled him further. Why are you in flyer territory?

Basil's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the fairy. Flyers belong in the sky, he informed her. "Hoppers belong on the ground. Who’s in whose territory?"

Ariel's cheeks flushed, but she wasn't giving in to a hopper. "Flyers own this sky and the land. You have no right to be in either. "

The boy laughed. Oh, I haven't, have I? Basil scoffed as he stood up and brushed himself off. This is Elyon’s Land. I have as much right to be here as you do. He owns the wind and tells it when to blow. And He plants the trees and shows them how to reach to the sky. He feeds the deer and the rabbits and follows their comings and goings. You want to be here? Elyon’s ok with that. But I’m fairly sure He doesn’t appreciate you trying to steal from people.

He glared at her in silence for a minute.

She glared back, hot, and fiery. I don’t answer to hoppers. she finally informed him.

I don’t care, he countered. Right now, I want some peace and quiet, away from a self-absorbed flying argument waiting to happen. The hopper quickly gathered his belongings, gave a mocking bow, and tipped his hat to her.

Good day, ‘princess’. He turned and bounded away.

Ariel’s wings vibrated as she stared angrily after the young man. Stupid hopper, she growled. She considered their conversation for a few seconds and had a question.

Who’s Elyon? she called after him.

Another thought crossed her mind and she shrugged.Why do I care? She had places to go and things to do today, and this hopper wasn’t worthy of a second more of her time wasted, thinking about him.

As Basil hopped along, he thought about the young flyer he had just met. She had been on par with every story he’d heard about flyers: dark and dirty, dressed in rags and fur, and meanspirited. He shook his head.

Repulsive, he remarked to no one in particular. Thank you, Elyon, for not making me a flyer.

He looked up as a small shadow passed over him. It was the flyer he’d just met. She glared darkly at him as she flew over and tossed her head as if he were insignificant. Basil noticed she wasn't watching where she was going.

Look out! he cried.

Surprised, the girl looked down at him, and crashed headfirst into a spider's web. Ariel hung there dazed, suspended upside-down in the sticky strands. She felt the web jiggle and fear gripped her heart. The web’s occupant was at home.

Basil stared up in horror. He instantly realized he had two options: leave the arrogant flyer to her fate or do what he could to help. As irritating as the girl had been, the first option hardly even flickered in his thoughts. His hand instinctively went for the slingshot in his back pocket as his eyes scanned the ground for a suitable pebble.

Ariel screamed as the spider advanced toward her. Try as she might, she had no luck jerking free from the sticky strands that held her in this adhesive prison. She could barely move, and the arachnoid quickly closed the distance between them.

A stone whizzed through the air. It struck the beast and knocked it off the web. In its place, the hopper appeared. He had his walking stick tucked under one arm as he pulled his dagger out of its sheath. Basil started cutting Ariel loose of her bonds.

Get out of here! he yelled as the last strand was cut.

The spider’s exit was only temporary. The creature quickly scurried back up to its lair and once again zeroed in on their location. Sheathing the knife, the hopper turned to face the hungry beast, holding the walking stick like a quarterstaff.

Elyon, don’t fail me now, he breathed as the spider advanced.

Ariel flew clear of the web and put ten yards of distance between herself and the battle scene. There she stopped and turned to watch. Now it was the hopper the spider targeted as a meal.

Just leave! her instincts shouted. This isn’t your fight now. She knew that was what she should do. But still, she hesitated. That hopper was only fighting off the spider because he’d come to her rescue. She hadn’t asked for or expected his help. Yet, she was alive because of him. She watched him standing there on the web like a man on a ladder, holding onto the web with one hand, swinging his staff with the other. It wasn’t a good fighting position.

The spider circled, always facing its potential lunch, trying to get a better position. Basil was holding off the bug, but that wouldn’t last for long.

The girl bit her lip. What to do, what to do? Then a thought popped into her head: if the spider killed the hopper, it would wrap the knife up in the web with its prey and the weapon would be gone forever.

That propelled Ariel into action. If nothing else, she needed to help the hopper for the knife’s sake.

Basil knew he was fighting a losing battle. The spider was nearly as long as he was and could out-maneuver him on its home turf. Perhaps he could jump down? No, the web’s adhesive would slow him enough for the spider to strike before he could pull free. Could he knock the spider off the web with his staff? Unlikely. The stone had been unexpected.

All the hopper could do was hold on and parry the lunges as the beast circled. Suddenly, the flyer appeared behind the spider, startling Basil into losing his focus on his opponent. That’s when it lunged in, sinking its fangs into his right leg. As the girl plunged her spear into the creature, killing it, Basil screamed out against the intense pain as venom flowed into his body.

It was too late. Ariel had not been quick enough to save the hopper. She grabbed him up in her arms as his limbs went slack and took to the air again. She could feel his body beginning to convulse as she hunted for safety. The poison was already setting in. Ah! There was a woodpecker hole! Hopefully, the owner wouldn’t be in it. She flew in and deposited her load.

Basil quickly slid off his backpack and dumped its contents on the floor of the hollow. His whole body was shaking as he fought against the venom invading his system and his breath came in heavy, ragged gasps.

Ariel watched in amazement as he fumbled through the spilt supplies. What is he doing? she wondered. He's dying; what could he possibly be looking for?

In answer, Basil grabbed a leather parcel with shaking hands, checked the label with blurring eyes, and quickly unrolled the leather strip. Four glass vials dropped out. Basil picked up one, uncorked it and drained the liquid contents into his mouth. He pulled out his knife again as he kicked off his boot, and sliced his pant leg from ankle to knee, exposing the ragged puncture wounds of the spider bite.

Basil then opened another vial - one with power this time - and dumped its contents on the wound. He let out a scream of pain, but held the cloth to the injury, letting the powder seep into the punctures. Quickly, he tied it in place with the strap. Breathing hard, Basil sat back and stared up at Ariel with glassy eyes.

Thank you, he croaked. Two seconds later, he collapsed in an unconscious heap.

Ariel stared at his crumpled form, perplexed. She had seen death many times in her own colony, but never like this. And it was strange that the first hopper she’d ever met should die right before her. Die, did she say? No, he wasn't quite dead yet. She could still hear his labored breathing, but she knew it would soon end. No elf could survive a spider's bite. Her eyes turned to the discarded pack. By rights, she could now claim it.

His hat lay on the floor. It was of pale-yellow braided grass with a grass-green band and a short apple-red feather. Ariel picked it up and tried it on. It was a little big and bent her antenna flat. She slid the bead up the drawstring and the hat fit snugly. The princess then turned her attention to the pack. Oh, what treasures might a hopper's pack hold? As she looked over the spilled contents, her hopes fell to disappointment.

There were a lot of packets like the one Basil had already opened, but Ariel had no idea what any were for. The narrow wooden box, with a set of silver tubes, was confusing and void of any known purpose. There was a cloth bundle with a fish bone and waxy stone that smelt like flowers. A tiny box held a small stone, a piece of metal and some smelly sticks inside.

She picked up another packet and unwrapped it. This one had contents she recognized: dried meat and biscuits. She bit into one of the pieces of meat. Tough and chewy. It was very different than what she was used to, but tasty. She chomped on the jerky stick while she looked over the rest of the goods. Just one more item. It was rectangular. Ariel picked it up and began to undo the strap. The parcel opened and its insides were filled with papers, one after the other covered with mysterious symbols, drawings, and diagrams. She suddenly realized the symbols were writing. This hopper could read!

The elders of her tribe said reading was a wicked instrument of hoppers and sprites used for evil spells. Ariel didn't care. She desperately wanted to know what these writings were. She flipped through the pages, examining the drawings. Some she recognized: a crude deer, a rabbit. Others were things unknown to her. And the writing! Page after page of writing! The lines of script seemed to dance on the page in front of her, enticing in its rhythm and flow.

Ariel suddenly hoped the hopper would NOT die. He could read the pages to her and tell her what it said. But oh, he would die! She knew that. No one survived a spider's bite. She looked over at Basil and was amazed to see he was still breathing. A spasm went through him, almost as a reminder of the poison that flowed through his veins.

Ariel quickly snatched off the hat and threw it beside its fallen owner. She’d never be able to keep such an item in the colony. It was too conspicuous and would quickly be snatched by one of the male flyers. Probably Dragon. She could keep it here after the hopper died. Just her little secret.

She threw everything but the parcel of food back into the pack and hid it in a dark corner under some pine needles. It would be safe there from anyone else who might discover the hopper. The dagger she scooped up and tucked into the sash around her tunic before she leaped from the opening of the hollow. A breeze caught her, and she was lifted into the sky.

The girl fluttered her wings and took flight. She'd come back tomorrow, after the hopper had died, and collect the other items in the pack. The mysterious parcels, the box of tubes and the papers. Yes, to own the wonderful set of mysterious papers with its drawings, diagrams, and dancing lines of script! It would soon be hers to keep! All hers!

Chapter 2

An Arrangement

1ST WEEK OF APRIL

Ariel spent the rest of the day looking for food and decisively not going back to her barn home. She wasn’t ready to face her father and the consequences of her actions from that morning. The flyer spied a field mouse and was excited at the prospect of hunting it down before she realized she’d left her spear imbedded in the spider.

Oh, rabbit hairs! the princess swore softly. It would take the better part of a day to find a useable shard of glass for a blade and make a new spear. Instead of hunting, she would have to settle for a bird’s egg for a meal. Duck and goose eggs tasted awful. Robin and meadowlark were ok, but the best eggs came from the prairie hens that made their nests in the grasslands.

After about half an hour of carefully surveying a field, she spotted a hen on her nest and dived-bombed her until the fat brown fowl fled in terror. Ariel swooped up an egg as large as her head and flew off into the trees with her prize. Perched on a branch, she cracked a hole in the egg with a stone. As Ariel drank the liquid, she thought about the hopper dying in the woodpecker hole. He should be dead by now…but then again, he should have died within minutes of being bitten. This hopper didn’t play by the rules.

The girl felt her sash for the two treasures she had hidden there: the package of meat and biscuits, and the knife.

She took the blade out and examined it. Unlike the ones in her colony, this one was steel, not a shard of glass. It was light and shiny. Ariel had never seen a steel knife before. It was amazingly sharp and smooth. And the handle – SkyKing’s had been simply wrapped with a ragged cloth strap, but Basil’s was polished wood with carvings of leaves and flowers, a bird, and a strange symbol. No one in her tribe had the ability to create anything like it and no one had anything so beautiful. Yes, it would be a perfect present for her father as a replacement for the broken blue shard knife.

She pulled out the dried meat and biscuits, shoved some bread in her mouth and chewed noisily. She’d hand over the knife, but this edible treasure she was keeping for herself.

Late that afternoon, Ariel flew into the barn and settled in for a landing. Her father was standing there in the middle of the floor waiting for her, scowling darkly at his youngest. He was surrounded by the council members. Ariel grimaced. While she had hoped to find her father alone, she had expected these men to be there, making suggestions as to what Ariel’s punishment should be when she finally returned. They all glared at her, loathingly, as they watched her descend. Oh, how they loved a good beating!

May as well get it over with, Ariel thought to herself. She gritted her teeth and touched down a few strides in front of her parent.

Hello, Daddy, she greeted tentatively.

His response was the back of his hand striking her face so forcefully, it knocked her off her feet.

You broke my knife, he reminded her. And it was a blue knife. SkyKing had reveled in having the only blue blade in the colony.

The ruler grabbed Ariel’s hair and dragged the girl back up to her feet for a second blow that had the same effect. She was yanked up again and put an arm up to defend herself from the next strike. Something popped in her hand as it was beaten out of the way.

"Wait!" she screamed. Her unharmed hand shot into her sash and came out with the steel knife.

SkyKing paused and stared suspiciously, wondering what the girl proposed to do.

For you! she quickly verified, lest he mistook it for an attempted counterattack. I found it in the woods!

The hand was wary as it accepted the knife from her. SkyKing turned the blade over in his grip, studying the item as he shot quick glances at his daughter, taking in the effects of the beating: the bloody nose, bruises rising on both cheeks, the split lip, the tremor in her voice, and the tremble in her limbs as she was held there before him, nursing a possible broken wrist.

He released his grip on her hair, so she now supported her own weight, shaky as her knees were, and turned the knife over in his hands.

Ariel let herself relax a little. Hopefully, this beating was over.

Ok, he nodded, pleased with the gift. Go see the medicine man.

The elders around him grumbled at his leniency and he shot them a cold hard glare that quickly silenced them.

She replaced the knife, he growled. "Would any of your sons have found a better one for me?" He stuck his new possession in his sash and strolled away.

Ariel watched him leave, relieved. It had cost her dearly in the price of the knife and possibly her hand, but the beating was over. She looked around at the lingering crowd.

The elder men thumbed their noses at her, disgusted that a girl had drawn their attention for a few minutes from their own idle self-admiration. The younger men scowled, imagining how they would have handled the situation, and each wished they had found the knife. The young women adverted their eyes in shame of their own womanhood, and the children stared at her, fascinated with the blood and bruises decorating someone other than themselves.

Stupid men! Ariel glared hotly at the fairies dispersing around her. Stupid women! Stupid bratty kids! I HATE you! I HATE YOU ALL! She felt her eyes starting to sting as she fought back the tears of shame and pain. Shakily, she turned and ambled over to the corner where their medicine man’s lair was located.

I could have killed you, SkyKing reminded her. If it was anyone else and you were their wife, you would probably be dead now.

I know, Ariel agreed humbly. But the council wouldn’t want you to kill me, she told him silently in her head. Not until they had me married off to Dragon and I gave him a son; then they wouldn’t care one way or the other.

It was dark and the two of them laid back-to-back in the cinder block on a pile of old, smelly furs. All around them, family groups lay in clusters on the floor of the old barn or in nooks and crannies in the walls. Some whispered conversations were detected, too low to make out the words, but most of the families were asleep now. Two sentries were on guard, perched above in the rafters, one on each end of the barn. They kept a lookout for snakes and other predators as their kin slept below.

A man’s knife is an important part of how strong he is, he clarified. "And mine was broken by a girl."

Her face felt like it was on fire where he’d struck it, but she knew it could have been worse. He’d only backhanded her. A lot of the men used closed fists on their wives. Broken bones were often involved. He’d never hit hard enough to cause that kind of damage. Still, she hurt. Especially her thumb. The medicine man had splinted it, but pain still shot through her when she tried to move it. This may have been the one time he’d finally broke something.

Did you ever hit Mama? she dared to ask.

We’re not talking about your mother, he hissed. We’re talking about you.

Ariel rolled over and stared at her father’s back. Breeze says you two were happy.

The seconds ticked by in silence. Ariel wondered if she had gone too far. She couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed her father’s shoulders sagged a bit.

When he finally answered, his voice was very quiet. Breeze was only five when her mother died. She wouldn’t remember.

I want to be happy too, Daddy, Ariel whispered. I want to marry someone who will make me happy. Do you really think Dragon would be that person?

Her father didn’t answer her directly. Your sisters found husbands.

Is Breeze happy? Thorn beats her for looking at him. Monarch doesn’t hit Windy as much, but he doesn’t do anything without his father’s say-so.

SkyKing sighed loudly and turned over to glare at his daughter. "Ariel, you have to get married!"

Someone nearby stirred in their sleep and SkyKing quickly checked his voice. You’re a princess, he reminded her in a harsh whisper. "You will be sixteen in a year and you will have to marry. Pick someone!"

Ariel stared into her father’s eyes. Breeze said you used to laugh. And you used to make Mama laugh and we were all happy. I don’t think Dragon will make me laugh.

Ariel saw something flicker in SkyKing’s eyes. For a twinkling, they held a flash of pain and sorrow at the memories of a life long dead. Then, it was enveloped by coldness as he stared back at her angrily. It’s the middle of the night! he reminded her in a growled whisper. Stop arguing and go to sleep!

And her father rolled over and turned his back to her again.

Good night, Daddy, she whispered.

His only answer was silence.

Ariel sighed and rolled back onto her side, away from him.

One more year.

And time kept on ticking.

Where’d you find the knife, Ariel?

The princess startled at the voice and looked up.

It was early morning, and the hunting party was preparing to leave. With her injured hand, instead of hunting, Ariel decided to seek out her sisters’ company. The three of them were sitting together when they’d been approached.

Where’d you get the knife? Dragon repeated.

Breeze’s husband Thorn stood beside him, glaring down at the woman. Monarch, Windy’s mate, was a few steps behind the stronger men.

It was just lying on the ground, under a spider’s web, Ariel lied.

What else did you find? Thorn demanded.

For a second, the girl panicked. Did they know about the hopper? But if they did, they wouldn’t be asking.

Nothing! she insisted.

Should I search you? Dragon threatened? Girls aren’t supposed to have anything anyway.

I’m not your property! Ariel reminded him hotly. Even so, she eased farther away from him.

Not yet, he conceded. But just wait a year. You won’t have any secrets from me then. He turned away and the others followed. The hunting party left.

Ariel warily watched, her heart beating loudly in her chest.

One more year.

Time was ticking.

She returned to the woodpecker hole that afternoon. Despite the pain in her hand and the trepidation of her encounter with Dragon, Ariel was filled with excitement at the idea of exploring the hopper’s pack further. Perhaps their medicine man would know what was in all those packages. He might trade her some food for them.

She was surprised that Basil was still breathing. Why was he still alive? He was supposed to die so she’d have a clear claim for his pack. Well, maybe hoppers were more different from flyers than she had thought.

She sighed in exasperation.

Basil’s eyes opened and he stared at her. Ariel gasped, jumped up, and ran for the entrance.

Wait!

The word froze the flyer in her tracks. She peered over one shoulder as the hopper struggled to raise himself on an elbow.

Please! he gasped. I need water.

You’re supposed to be dead!

Basil fell back to a prone position, his energy spent. I’m sorry to disappoint you. Could you please get me a drink?

Ariel considered for a moment. Ok, she tentatively agreed. She left and was back in a few minutes with an acorn cap full of water. Here you go.

Would you help me sit up? His voice was hardly more than a whisper. I’m very weak.

Exasperated, she hoisted him into a sitting position. Are you always so helpless?

I am when I’ve been bitten by a spider.

Holding him up with one arm, Ariel picked up the cap again with the other. She put it in Basil’s hands, but the weight made them tremble.

He’s going to drop it, Ariel reasoned, and then he’ll want me to get more.

Here. I’ll do it, she grumbled, and lifted the cap to his lips.

Basil drank greedily. A rivulet trickled down his chin and splashed on his sweat-stained shirt. Thanks, he said when he finished, and Ariel laid him back down. Basil closed his eyes again, but Ariel had too many questions to let him go back to sleep.

How come you’re alive still? she demanded. Everyone else who’s ever been bit died before the sun set. What makes you different?

Basil had opened his glassy eyes again. Antidote, he said simply.

What’s that?

It’s medicine that counteracts the poison in snake or spider bites.

What’s ‘counteract’?

It keeps paralysis from setting in.

Basil could sense the next question forming, so he answered it before it was even asked. So your insides don’t lock up and stop working.

Oh. Ariel thought for a minute. So, your insides are ok, and the poison didn’t hurt them?

Yes and no, the hopper answered. He was desperately fatigued, but decided his rescuer deserved some answers. I may not die, but I’m pretty sick. I’m weak, my hands are numb, and I can’t feel or move my leg.

"Then you are going to die! Ariel stood up to leave. I’ll be back for your stuff tomorrow."

Basil’s eyes opened wide. You’re going to leave me here to die?

You’re helpless, the flyer said matter-of-factly. What else can I do?

Help me! Will you help me? Please?

Ariel was taken back by the request and unsure what Basil was asking. Help you what?

Basil stared at her in disbelief. You could help me stay alive.

Ariel shook her head. I’m not a medicine man.

You don’t need to be. All I need is for you to bring me food and water until I’m strong enough to leave here.

The flyer was thinking again. Basil didn’t like this.

Well, Ariel finally said. What do I get in return?

For some reason, Basil expected such a response from her.

What…what do you want?

Ariel thought. He had nothing she would be able to keep – Dragon had effectively reminded her of that. She might be able to trade his potions for food, but that was it. But there was something he had, something more valuable than anything in his pack. Something that couldn’t be lost, stolen, or stripped away. Something she could keep forever. Teach me to read.

Basil stared at her. Flyers can’t read. Everyone knows that.

So, teach me.

Now it was Basil’s turn to stop and think. Could a flyer be taught to read? He had never heard of it being done.

Ok, Basil tentatively agreed. You bring food and water every day and I’ll give you reading lessons.

Teach me to write too.

I will try.

Teach me now! Ariel demanded.

No. I’m too sick. We’ll start tomorrow.

She considered it. Ok. I’ll bring food and water tomorrow and you will teach me. Good-bye, Hopper. Ariel threw herself out the entrance and into the breeze.

Basil closed his eyes. Exhaustion immediately took over and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 3

Lessons

1ST WEEK OF APRIL

Basil was awakened the next morning by a fierce, gnawing hunger. He hadn’t eaten in two days and his stomach made no qualms about telling him so. He carefully sat up. Good. He was a bit stronger than the day before, but a wave of nausea struck. He closed his eyes until it passed. The fever persisted, his hands were still numb but his injured leg, which had no feeling the day before, was now throbbing in pain. It was terribly swollen.

Basil blinked his eyes into focus and looked around. Where was his pack? Had the flyer stolen it? No, wait! There it was in a dark recess of the hollow, covered in pine needles.

Meticulously, he dragged himself over to it, having to stop every minute or so to ease the shearing pain the movement caused. Once there, he leaned back against the wall, and opened the pack. The elf couldn’t help staring. It’d obviously been rifled through. In a few seconds, reality set in: he really shouldn’t have expected anything less from a flyer. They were scavengers, after all. But right now, he didn’t care. He wanted food.

It took a few long minutes of his numb fingers fumbling through the bag to realize the package of dried meat and biscuits was no longer there. He blinked in disbelief and searched again. It still came up missing. Basil leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and groaned in disappointment. They are scavengers, he reminded himself. Of all the things in his pack, the food was probably the only thing the girl had even come close to recognizing. He wanted to cry in frustration and hunger.

But wait! The backpack wasn’t the only thing he had with him. He felt around on the cloak he still wore. There, in the inside lining, was a pocket containing half a biscuit and a stick of jerky he hadn’t finished from his last meal before the spider incident. The bread was a crumbled, hardened mess, wrapped up in his handkerchief with the strip of meat, but it was food. He closed his eyes, relieved.

Thank you, Elyon, he sighed, shoving a handful of crumbs into his mouth.

The dry bread was hard work for his fatigued body to swallow, but the knowledge that he needed to eat something kept him working, digesting as much of it as possible. As he chewed, his hands went back to searching the pack for the exact item he now needed. He soon found it and pulled out the package with the vials of antibiotic powder and anti-venom serum. Four vials of per package, and one of each was now empty.

The young hopper unwrapped the bandage around his leg and examined the sore. The two jagged gashes in his leg where the spider’s fangs had punctured and tore the skin were pussed over and marked in reds, yellows, and deep purples, and the area from ankle to knee was swollen to twice normal size.

Great. He was going to be off his feet for a few weeks at least.

Basil carefully treated the wound with antibiotic powder again, only half a vial this time, and redressed it. He then searched the pack for the vial of penicillin. He popped two tablets into his mouth and washed down the chalkiness with a few sips of anti-venom, then he carefully counted the remaining penicillin pills. There were 10 left. The hopper grimaced. Would that be enough? The vial was recorked and returned to the pack. By now his strength was almost spent and he contented himself with little nibbles of bread and jerky.

As he ate, he thought about the flyer he’d met. Would she remember to come back? He needed her if he wanted to stay alive. Why did she want to learn to read? Flyers had no need for reading. Their lives revolved around scavenging. Basil seriously doubted if one would even understand text, but now he was indebted to a flyer who wanted to learn.

Well, to read, one had to memorize sounds and letters. Next came learning to blend the sounds to form words. But that wasn’t even accounting for the most obvious factor – the reader needed to understand the content of what they were reading. Could a flyer do that?

Basil would be at Ariel’s mercy for at least a week, until he was strong enough to leave the tree hollow. Within that time, if she didn’t believe she was learning to read, she would probably stop coming and then he’d be in trouble. If nothing else, he had to fool her into thinking she was learning something. It shouldn’t be too easy to fool a flyer, Basil thought. Or at least, he hoped.

He cast his eyes upward towards Elyon’s Abode.

You know, he pointed out, this whole issue would have been avoided if your spider had made her web a few feet to the left. You understand that, right?

But Elyon didn’t answer.

Basil was left alone, 20 feet above the ground, with no help in sight.

The hopper was sleeping again when Ariel arrived that afternoon. She stared. He sure sleeps a lot, she thought.

Hey! she shouted.

He awoke with a start. It took a few seconds to break through the haziness of sleep as he stared up at her. The eyes and mind finally focused on where he was, and the hopper carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position and propped himself against the wall of the hollow.

Hi, he greeted unenthusiastically. Every muscle in his body seemed to ache with sympathy for his injured leg. He wiped the sweat from his face on his sleeve. His head was throbbing.

The flyer was unsympathetic. I brought you food, she informed him and tossed something down beside the hopper.

Basil blinked as he struggled to identify the object. It was covered with congealed blood and fur. Five claws grew out of one end. Then it registered: it was the hind leg of a mouse. Basil suddenly remembered flyers ate raw meat. The bloody smell made his head swim and his stomach churn. He fought back the desire to vomit.

Aren’t you going to eat it? Ariel asked him.

Basil carefully pushed the meal aside. I’m not hungry just now, he told her truthfully. I could use some water though.

Alright, Ariel agreed. First you drink, then you teach me. She flew off.

While she was gone, Basil opened his pack and found the aspirin vial. He uncorked it as he contemplated how to go about teaching his new pupil.

Come on, Elyon, he breathed. Give me some ideas here.

The girl returned, and Basil popped a ration of the pills in his mouth.

What’s that? she demanded before she handed over the water.

Aspirin. Basil coughed and took the acorn cap out of Ariel’s hands.

What’s ‘aspirin’?

Basil made her wait as he slowly drained the cap. His pupil shifted back and forth from one foot to another, grimacing at him. This girl could use a lesson in patience, Basil thought as he watched her. He finally put the cap down.

Aspirin acts as a painkiller and fever reducer, he informed her.

Ariel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. It does?

He nodded.

The girl suddenly regarded the vial with newfound respect. She instantly wondered what the medicine man might give her for it. Does it keep you from dying?

Not really, but it can sure feel like it at times.

Are you a medicine man?

Doctor, he corrected, but then realized he would have to explain what it meant. Yes, I’m a medicine man.

She stared at him with wonder and something that bordered on respect. But it quickly disappeared as she focused on why she was here. Teach me to read, she demanded.

Basil took a deep breath as he contemplated where to start. Thankfully, a few feeble ideas had come to mind.

Ok, before you can learn to read, you have to understand what sounds are.

What are ‘sounds’?

Sounds are the little segments that words are made of.

What are ‘words’?

Basil sighed and closed his eyes. This was going to take a while.

Words, he said carefully, are what we say. ‘Hi’ is a word, so is ‘Ariel’. ‘How are you’ is three words. He broke it up and counted it for her on his fingers. ‘How. Are. You.’ Understand?

She nodded. Thank you Elyon, Basil thought. Now, the hard part.

Each word, he stated, is made up of sounds. Sounds are the little parts that we put together to make a word. Listen: ‘buh’ is a sound. So is ‘aah’ and ‘t’. They don’t mean anything by themselves, but when you put them together, they do. He leaned forward to indicate to her how important what he had to impart was.

She leaned forward too and listened carefully.

Buh-aah-t he said. Bat. Understand?

Ariel nodded.

Now, Basil continued. You figure this one out. T- rrrr-eee, he said slowly. He said it again, a little faster with the sounds closer together. T-rr-eee.

Ariel was unsure and bit down on her lip in concentration. Tree? she finally asked.

You’re right! Basil could hardly believe she had caught on so fast. Try this- mmm-ow-sss. MMM-owww-sss.

Mouse! The answer came much quicker this time.

That’s really good, princess, he said as he contemplated the next step. The next thing to know is that each sound has a symbol called a letter. Letters are what you read. Basil wrote in