1"Ninety-one bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-one bottles of beer, take one down pass it around,"

"And I'll bop you over the head with it!" Conch threatened. Spade had been singing "traveling songs" since early that afternoon. While Conch thought she could handle anything after the half hour serenade of "I'm Henry the VII, I am," she had to draw the line at the beer song.

Spade grinned his evil lop-sided smile, "I can't help it. All this walking is mind-numbing! I'm going crazy!"

"Yeah well you don't have to take the rest of us with you," Conch sighed.

"Grumpy head," Spade teased.

Conch heaved a sigh. He was probably right. Once they'd made the final decision to try the path through Machela Forest, they had begun their travel not long after the sun had risen. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. Conch considered herself athletic, but she had always been a sprinter.

"Go bother Merkaydi," Conch suggested.

Spade turned to walk backwards. He took one look at Merkaydi before addressing Conch once more, "He just gave me the, "speak-one-word-to-me-and-I'll-kick-your-shins," look."

"That makes two of us," was Conch's response.

Spade, feeling particularly ornery, decided to see if he could drag Tyran into the melee, "Tyyraaan, Conch and Merkaydi are being mean to me!"

Tyran glanced at Spade, who was still walking backwards, then turned his gaze over to Merkaydi and Conch. Tyran became thoughtful before asking, "Should we take a break or stop for the day?"

The trio stopped dead in their tracks at the suggestion. Conch heard the offer and she suddenly felt as if curling into a ball on the ground would be answer enough. Spade hadn't been expecting that response at all, while Merkaydi sighed.

"How far to the forest?" Merkaydi asked before anyone else spoke.

Tyran's gaze turned upwards as he thought, "If we continue at this pace without too many stops...we should be within the elvish borders before nightfall."

Merkaydi heaved a sigh twice his size, "I hate to say this, but I'd rather get where we're going..."

Spade agreed whole-heartedly. Conch pouted, but ignored her feet's cries of pain, "Let's keep going then."

Without another word they continued. About ten minutes after the conversation Spade began to feel more bored than ever. He examined Conch and Merkaydi and, in his great wisdom, decided they were saving any and all energy they had for walking. He grimaced and tried to contain his urges to annoy any and all around him. Not even another seven minutes passed before Spade was desperate for a conversation of some kind to keep his mind occupied. He caught up with Tyran and hesitantly opened a conversation.

"Sooo, you do much travelin' like this?" Spade asked.

Tyran nodded politely.

"What's the longest trip you've taken?" was the next question.

"Long as in distance or long as in length of time?" Tyran responded.

"Distance,"

"This one,"

"Oh," Spade failed to think of something more engaging to say. However, that didn't mean that Spade was ready to give up. He thought for a few minutes and remembered a good game he'd learned when he was younger.

"Hey, wanna play a game?" Spade asked.

"A game?" Tyran gave Spade his full attention, "What sort of game?"

"It's a thinkin' game. It's called Queen Anne, and I tell you one thing that Queen Anne likes and one thing that Queen Anne doesn't like. Then you tell me one thing you think Queen Anne would like and one thing you think she wouldn't like. Then I tell you whether you're right or wrong. If you're wrong I give you another example so that you can guess again." Spade explained.

"Sounds interesting," Tyran said.

"Shall we play?" Spade asked.

Tyran shrugged, "Sure."

Spade began the game, "Queen Anne likes...the moon, but not the stars."

Tyran thought about that and returned, "Queen Anne likes the sun but not the sky?"

"She doesn't like either actually," Spade informed Tyran.

The game continued in this fashion until Spade was running out of examples to give without repeating himself. He asked Tyran several times whether Tyran would like to give up, but Tyran refused each time.

Finally Spade gave Tyran a hint, "Think about how the words are spelled,"

"Spelled? That depends on what language you're speaking," Tyan frowned.

At that moment Spade's thoughts were a mass of confusion. If they understood each other, didn't that mean they were speaking the same language?

Spade voiced his thoughts, "Aren't we speaking the same language?"

"Are we?" Tyran asked, "I assumed you spoke the same language as Conch..."

This statement only caused an already confounded Spade an incredible amount of disordered thought. Sadly, Spade never had been able to quickly order his thoughts into coherence.

"Huh?"

Tyran gave him an equally befuddled gaze, "I think we've lost each other."

"That sounds about right," Spade agreed. "Let's try this again."

Spade took a long moment to ask his question more intelligently, "What I mean to ask is, if we can understand each other, doesn't that mean we're speaking the same language?"

Tyran was silent for long moments, "Not usually..."

Spade realized now that there was something going on that he was unaware of, "Wait, how is that possible? I mean to understand each other but not be speaking the same language?

Tyran stared at Spade for such a long span of time that Spade couldn't help but punch Tyran in the arm.

"OW!"

"That was for starin' at me. Why were you starin' anyway?" Spade frowned.

Tyran rubbed his arm and glared at Spade, "I apologize, but you didn't have to hit me!"

"Well?" Spade asked.

"I am just... flustered," Tyran stated. "There's a continuous spell, it affects every human. It allows us to understand each other no matter what language."

Spade thought about this information and applied it to their experiences so far, "That explains why we can understand everyone we've met so far, but not read anythin'."

Tyran nodded.

Spade continued to think about it then asked, "Wait, you said you were flustered. Why?"

"I, ah, assumed that everyone knew about this spell..." Tyran chose his words carefully.

Spade had been watching his Tyran's lips move as Tyran spoke, "Okay, that makes sense, and the spell makes since, but your lips look like your speaking English."

"Yes, just as it appears to me that you're speaking Lethevinian," Tyran explained. "That's a part of the spell as well."

Spade thought about it a moment longer then said, "If this spell affects all languages then why doesn't money translate to you as chips?"

"Because they're different denominations. Trade between countries would be somewhat difficult if we couldn't figure out that one person is trying to pay in florin and the other wants payment in chips," Tyran said.

"Huh," Spade thought about that for a moment. The explanation mostly made sense. Yet, what Tyran was talking about was the difference between dollars and yin. Money was money no matter where you were from. Spade decided to go ahead and just assume it was a design flaw of some kind.

Maybe the guy who invented the damned thing just left all money words alone to avoid confusion, Spade thought.

Then Spade decided to test this non-sense out, "Hey, Kay?"

Merkaydi lifted his gaze from the ground to Spade's face and let one eyebrow rise.

"Do you speak Spanish?" Spade said. Spade laughed and covered his mouth as he heard words he knew should have come out in Spanish come out in English.

"You know I don't," Merkaydi shook his head. Merkaydi hadn't been listening to the conversation. "What's so funny?"

Instead of answering Merkaydi, Spade tried out the words deja vu, "Already seen."

Spade laughed again. Merkaydi looked at Conch who shrugged. She hadn't even realized that Spade and Tyran were talking.

That's a step forward for both of them... Conch thought.

"That's just amazin'!" Spade exclaimed. He quickly explained to Conch and Merkaydi what they'd been talking about. After Conch asked a few of the very same questions Spade had asked Tyran, Conch asked a few that Spade hadn't thought of.

"So if everyone understands each other does that mean that no one bothers to learn foreign languages?" she asked.

"Not at all, people still learn them," Tyran explained further. "You can null the spell out for short periods of time so that you can learn them. Then of course any language based in a non-human tongue has to be learned because they don't translate."

"Speakin' from experience?" Spade asked.

"Yes," Tyran answered shortly.

Conch had to ask, "What other languages do you speak?"

Tyran was hesitant in his answer, "I... I'm mostly fluent in Goblin, and Troll..."

"That's it?" Spade asked sarcastically with a smile.

However, Tyran missed the tone and took the question seriously, "Well, I can read and write Abantasian, Muronese, and Kebek too..."

Spade's smile faded. The amount of languages Tyran claimed, somewhat sheepishly, to know was nothing short of impressive.

"Holy crap!" Spade exclaimed. "Why on earth do you know so many?"

Tyran hedged the question, "Abantasia, Muro, and Kallak are the countries bordering Lethe. Trolls and goblins inhabit mountains, and Lethe is a mountainous country . . ."

Conch intuitively suspected that Tyran was dodging, but she didn't feel like she had the energy to get him to talk more openly. She gave a look to Merkaydi, who received and returned the look. He knew Tyran was avoiding something too.

They came to the top of a hill and Tyran pointed down hill, "That's Machela Forest. It was closer than I thought."

Spade whistled in appreciation. The forest stretched nearly all the way across the horizon line. They took a break on top the hill, and even managed to keep it short, although Spade had to pull Conch to her feet. After that they all fell silent. Conch watched her feet as she walked, trying desperately to ignore the sharp pains on the soles of her feet. She decided she was failing at it because she was watching her feet. So she lifted her eyes and began to watch the backs of the boys before her. Spade walked with a distance eating stride, the grace of long legs. He had his hands shoved deeply into his pockets and he was whistling tunelessly. Walking slightly ahead and to the side of Spade was Tyran. As he walked his braid swayed hypnotically side to side. Conch found some interest in that for quite some time, but finally glanced at Merkaydi, who strode a few steps before her. He appeared to be watching his feet, just as Conch had been, but there was something stiff in his gait the prompted Conch to catch up to her friend.

He had his hair tucked behind his elegantly pointed ears, making his face plainly visible. Merkaydi's arched eyebrows dipped low beneath the rims of his sunglasses, echoing his deep, contemplative frown.

"Hey," Conch softly addressed him, "are you alright?"

"Mmmm, not really," Merkaydi began. "Feeling somewhat disturbed."

"Oh? About what?" Conch asked.

Merkaydi shrugged, "This elf business. It worries me."

Conch remained silent, unsure of what to say.

"It makes no sense. Or it makes too much sense... I don't know," Merkaydi sighed.

Conch gave him a smile, "It'll be fine. I know it."

(Break)

They were finally within the borders of the forest, and Conch was thinking about suggesting a stop for the night when Tyran started persistently looking over his shoulder.

"What the heck is your problem?" Spade queried.

"Do you ever get the feeling that you're being-" Tyran began to say. He was interrupted by a voice from the trees.

"No sudden movements, humans!"

"Watched?" Tyran finished lamely.

Slowly an elf edged out of the trees. She was dressed in clothes that matched the leaves of the trees and was slightly shorter than Merkaydi. Her blonde hair was tied up revealing long pointed ears. She held a drawn bow and a deep scowl.

"If you value your lives, you'll leave this place," she stated.

Tyran stepped in front of the others, "Please, we have no alternate intentions besides reaching the other side of the forest. Will you take mercy on us?"

"Why should I care about your plight?" she responded coldly.

Spade couldn't resist the opening, "'Cause we're really, really cute?"

The elf's scowl shattered under her shock. She quickly regained her composure, "Just who do you think you are to be so bold?"

She would have continued to berate them, but Spade took advantage of the question again, "Well, I'm Spade, the lady is Conch, the small fellow over here is Merkaydi, and our blue haired friend is Tyran."

The time the elf entirely lost her composure and even un knocked her bow, "What. . ."

"Lady!" another voice rang out from the trees, "What are you doing? Let us be rid of the insufferable fools and go!"

They heard murmurs from all directions.

"Whew, there must be a ton of them out there," Spade stated.

"SILENCE!" the woman elf cried. She drew her bow tight once more and said, "Half-elf, you'll come with us. Escort the humans out of our realm."

There was rustling in the trees as the other elves moved to obey her orders.

"Wait!" Merkaydi shouted. All movement stopped. "What makes you think I'll come with you after you remove my friends? They leave, I leave."

Another elf dropped out of the trees beside the woman. He stood and addressed her, "Lady, this is utter madness! Vin calaway intala ne desa yo!"

The woman elf scowled at him, "Calaway intala no nama desa ne bickeneye doedema."

"Hey Tyran, you getting' any of this?" Spade asked.

"Some," Tyran responded, "It's something about her mother. . ."

They listened to the two elves bicker for more than a minute. Then another minute passed. Conch decided to sit. The others followed her lead.

"Hey Kay, why do you think they wanted you to go with them?" Spade asked.

Merkaydi shrugged, "She seemed to know my name or something."

"Disconcerting. . ." Tyran mumbled. Merkaydi nodded agreement.

Finally the woman addressed them once more, "Drop, all your weapons and packs! You will be blindfolded and led back to our home. If any of you so much as blink at us wrong, we will not hesitate to kill you."

Spade raised his hand, "Um, question. . . If we're blindfolded how are you to know if we're blinkin'?"

Her arrow zipped dangerously close to Spade's eye. Spade swallowed and took the hint.

"No bleedin' sense of humor. . ." he muttered.

The travel became a series of stumbles, soft touches of redirection, and occasional warnings about the road ahead. At least I don't have to carry anything now, Conch thought, those swords get awfully heavy after awhile. Despite the loss in weight, Conch was still about ready to drop, and the elves weren't about to stop.

The road took an uphill turn then it wasn't long before they seemed to be climbing a tight spiral stair case of some kind. Conch tried to count steps but gave up after 294. Just when her legs felt like they were going to give out, the stairs ended, and the blindfold came off. They stood in a circular room. Conch couldn't help but gape in awe. The ceiling of the room was composed of the interlocking branches of the trees. Evenly spaced, all around them were tall curvilinear columns instead of walls. The columns looked as if they were made of ivory. The floor was wood. At the center of the room a sort of coat of arms was inlayed into the wood. It was an image of a bird whose wings were out spread. Around the bird were braided tree branches.

Merkaydi tapped Conch's jaw and she shut it. She gave him a nasty glance which he returned with a cherubic smile. Conch finally returned her attention to the people in the room. The woman who'd held them at bow-point was greeting another woman. The second woman was dressed in long graceful white robes. Her long blonde hair was decorated with small sparkling jewels and bright flowers. She sat on a large carved wooden throne. Sitting before the throne was a young male elf. The two older elves began to speak to each other.

"Here we go with the elvish again," Spade sighed.

Conch nudged Merkaydi, "Nervous?"

A single half-hearted nod. Conch lay her hand on his shoulder, hoping to lend him some kind of comfort. Meanwhile, discussions between the two elves had become more heated. The elf boy before them was looking from one to the other as they spoke. Finally, the child looked as if he'd lost interest in whatever the argument was about. He stood, tapped some dust off his pants and trotted over to the travelers. He looked over them with keen interest. He stared at Spade the longest. Spade openly stared back at the child. The elf was only about three and a half feet tall and was wearing lightly colored clothes. The clothes were fancy in cut and had sparkling embroidery around the edges. The elf's eyes were a wide open pale green. Their eyes aren't like Merkaydi's. . .their eyes are like ours. Spade thought.

"What? Have I got something one my face?" Spade grinned widely at the elf.

The elf started, "Um . . . no . . . you're . . . tall . . ."

Spade started to laugh, "Yeah, well, you're pretty short. Probably makes me look taller than I am."

The child looked slightly intimidated.

"Don't worry kiddo," Spade smiled his friendliest smile, "we aren't here to cause trouble."

"Then who are you? Are you all royalty?" the child asked.

"Smart child," Tyran mumbled. He bowed politely to the child, "Not exactaly. I am Tyran."

Spade held out his hand, "Spade Isatul."

The elf examined Spade's hand curiously. Then the elf put out his hand in the same manner Spade had offered it. Spade gripped the elf's hand and shook it in greeting. The elf began to smile, his confidence growing. When Spade released the elf's hand the elf offered it to Conch.

"And you?" the elf asked Conch.

"Ah," Conch had been zoned out and had to really try to turn her attentions to the elf boy, "My name is Conch."

She shook the boy's hand. The elf boy turned towards Merkaydi.

"What's your name?" the elf asked.

Merkaydi hesitated for a moment before answering, "Merkaydi Bentz."

The boy's wide eyes widened further, "Really?"

Merkaydi nodded.

"Can I get a look at your eyes?" the boy asked quietly.

Merkaydi frowned in confusion before finally reaching up and removing his sun glasses. The boy stood on his tip toes to get closer to Merkaydi's face.

"Donnaku!" The boy exclaimed. The elf ran back to where the two women still argued. He tugged on the white robes of the women who sat on the throne. When she ignored him, he tugged more insistently. Still the woman ignored him and continued arguing with the younger woman. Finally he did what any ignored child would do. He began to speak, his voice rising in volume as he spoke.

"Cala, cala, Cala, CALA, CALA, CALA, CALA!" the boy said.

"Great Trees protect me! I hear you! What is it child?" the woman in white asked.

Glad to finally have all her attention, the boy pointed at Merkaydi and said, "Cala, he's the boy from your story!"

The woman looked exasperated, "What story?"

"The story you told me when I was sick last year. The sad one," the child explained, "the one with the baby, Merkaydi Bentz."

The other elvish woman began to speak once more but was promptly shushed by the white robed woman. Gracefully she stood and walked across the room. Merkaydi and Conch stood hastily. Tyran bowed as she came near.

Just like the boy, she gently placed her soft hands on either side of Merkaydi's face and looked into his eyes. Merkaydi was rapidly becoming unnerved by her stare, but didn't move.

"By the Cardinals, it is you," she whispered.

"Vin suada then kemptha cala!" the other woman called.

The young elf boy crossed his arms defiantly and said, "Cala, you said it was impolite to speak in elvish in front of those who can't understand it."

This seemed to help bring the enrobed woman out of a reverie. She released Merkaydi and stepped back. Slowly she turned towards the younger woman.

"Your brother is correct, Levoula, it is rude to speak thus in front of guests,"

The woman, Levoula, glared at her brother. He returned the gaze.

"Fine, then I request that I may speak to you alone," Levoula demanded.

"No,"

She turned once more and gave Merkaydi's companions a glance for the first time.

"I must apologize. This is all so sudden, and we haven't been properly introduced yet, but I must request that you all allow me to speak to my children and Mr. Bentz alone," the woman stated.

Merkaydi shot Spade a look of desperation.

"I'm sorry, but no can do," Spade replied.

The elf looked slightly offended, "I beg your pardon?"

Spade continued, "Merkaydi jus' gave me the 'don't leave me alone' look. Never have been able to tell him 'no.'"

"Is this so?" she asked Merkaydi directly.

He gave her a nod. Tyran gave Conch a questioning glance, unsure of what to do. The elf frowned.

"Very well. If it makes you feel more comfortable," she sighed.

"Calaway, mother, are you the woman in the story or not?" Levoula lost her patience.

"Shht!" the woman shushed. "Enough, Levoula. I'll get to that. First thing is first. We need comfortable seating for our guests."

"I'll get it!" the boy volunteered. He ran from the room and the woman reseated herself on the throne and heaved a sigh.

"While he runs out, let us properly introduce ourselves. I am Latominaconesulalwa delv Suattenne, Queen of the Machela Forest elves. Since you are now guests here you may shorten my name to Queen Latomi or use the usual formalities. Now. Who are you?" she addressed them.

"Um, Your Highness, I'm Spade Isatul,"

Conch curtsied as best she knew how, "I'm Conch Phoundenasee."

Tyran bowed once more, "Tyran, your Majesty."

"And Merkaydi Bentz," the queen concluded. Merkaydi nodded at her. "And how old are you? I assume you're all. . . children?"

Spade answered, "Well, teenagers really, we're all sixteen. Er, well, I can't speak for Tyran."

"I too am sixteen years in age," Tyran supplied.

"So young. . ." the queen became introspective. The chairs came in, carried by various elves led by the young elf boy. The elves became obviously surprised when they saw to whom they were serving seats. During the commotion Tyran managed to gain Merkaydi's attention.

Tyran whispered, "Merkaydi, I feel she's going to say things of great portent to you. Should I leave?"

Merkaydi thought deeply. Finally he said, "Stay."

Once they were all seated comfortably - the four in front of the queen and the queen's children beside her- she began her tale.

"Once, long ago, I was a young woman, but a very unhappy woman," she sighed.