Chapter Thirteen
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It growled a guttural sound. I flinched and turned around.

It was a wyvern--a serpent-like creature with scaly green skin and jagged spikes. It's eyes were animal-like and wild. It had only one desire: to kill. I felt my heart pound in my chest, and my breaths became short and shallow. I looked around desperately for something to defend myself.

Usually, I was one to try everything before attacking. But this was not a usual situation. There was no reasoning with this creature. It's pink forked tongue flicked out, and a hungry look appeared in its eyes.

I picked up a large, sharp tree branch, and swung at the wyvern. It did not react. I jabbed the stick into its flesh, and a familiar black liquid poured out.

The wyvern's blood.

It was as if the world was taking a breath right before anything happened. A slight pause in the chaos.

Then, the wyvern attacked, with a sound that was between a shriek of pain and a bellow of rage. I did what any sane person would have done in a similar situation.

I dropped the branch and ran.

The lizard creature slithered after me, crushing trees in its path. I turned around. It was gaining on me. I slid around a tree, scraping my knee, and picked myself up.

The wyvern was nearly on top of me from my fall. Not knowing what to do, I scurried up the tallest tree I could find. The squirrel in me would've been proud.

Confusion filled the monster's eyes. It turned its head this way and that, sniffing the air.

I held my breath, as if a sound would be my death. It very well could be, after all. The wyvern looked up, and I could see its recognition when it spotted me. Its red eyes targeted me and it got up on its hind legs to reach me. Fortunately, the tree was too tall. It shrieked again, and hit the tree with its clawed hand.

The tree shook. I wrapped my arms around the trunk for dear life. The tree began to fall. I jumped off, just as it was about to hit the ground.

I could almost hear someone calling "Timber!" as the tree hit the ground with a loud thud.

The wyvern was standing above me now, and it's hand was positioned over my throat, to kill. Blinding fear tore through me. I was going to die.

Something hit the monster in the eye, just as it was about to strike me. It turned its head. I rolled away, and ran. Another rock hit the monster. It shrieked and backed away. A steady stream of pebbles hit him. I ran as fast as I could away. I bumped into someone. I looked down. It was a kid. With pointed ears and features. An elf. Holding a sling shot.

He saw me and ran. I tried to follow him, but the wyvern was dangerously close. I did not know what to do. I'd tried fighting. I'd tried fleeing.

I looked around for somewhere to hide. The wyvern had spotted me now, and it crept closer. The I noticed the elf boy was behind it. He was holding a torch.

How would fire defeat this beast? I wondered. It's skin looked impenetrable, and definitely not flammable. I recalled the color of its blood.

Black. Why did that seem familiar?

Suddenly, it hit me. I nodded at the elf boy. All at once, I picked up a stick and slashed through the wyvern's skin. The elf boy threw the torch at the cut, and it burst into flame. The wyvern roared, and scurried away, trying to put out the flame.

The wyvern's blood was what the trolls had used as fuel for their fires. The black liquid in the goblet.

Gross.

I saw the elf boy run away. "Wait!" I called after him. I ran, but he was too fast. I could not find where he went.

I stumbled on a tree root and fell into a tree. I expected to hit my head on the trunk, but instead, I fell through it. The trunk had been hollowed out, and the opening was hidden by leafy vines.

Now that my life wasn't in mortal peril, I examined the tree I was in. I walked through the trunk, marveling at the carvings inside it. I didn't know what the glyphs and letters said, but I recognized it as a language. Perhaps, the language of the elves! I scurried through the trunk. Maybe this was it: the entrance to the Elves' Territory! All fear I'd had earlier was replaced with anticipation and excitement.

I stepped out of the trunk at rubbed my eyes. In the clearing, a civilization prospered. Huts and houses perched among tree branches or sat beside streams. The elves seemed at work. They had pointed ears, as legend had told, but they were not as short as believed. They were slightly shorter than human height, but noticeably more graceful and slender.

I stumbled out into the clearing, and an elf stared at me with almond-shaped, pure-green eyes. "A human!" he gasped. Other elves turned to look at me, and whispers fluttered around the congregation. I was relieved the elves weren't as quiet as the trolls.

"Who are you?"

I sighed. This would be the third time I'd explain myself. I relayed the information to the elves, as they listened intently. Once I was finished, I swallowed. My throat was extremely dry.

"You want to help us?" They seemed surprised.

"How do we know you aren't a traitor?"

I shrugged. "I have no way of proving my innocence to you. But I earned both the merrow's and trolls' trust. Let me have the chance to earn yours.

"That sounds pretty reasonable to me," said an older, wiser voice. The crowd divided, and an elf stepped forward. He had the youthfulness that each of the elves seemed to have, but his eyes showed knowledge beyond his looks, and his hair was silvery-white.

"Merron, you will watch over her, make sure she stays out of trouble," the he continued.

A taller, more thickly muscled elf than most others stepped forward. A dagger was sheathed to his side, and a bow and arrow was attached to his back. He nodded his head in response the elder elf's words.

I swallowed nervously. I had to be around this brick of an elf constantly?

"Return to your tasks," the elf said. With some grumbling, the elves returned to their mundane tasks, as they tried not to stare at me.

"My name is Merron," my companion elf said in a booming voice.

"Evelin Fendway," I said, holding out a hand.

Apparently, shaking hands was a human thing. Merron stared at my outstretched hand inquiringly.

"You shake it," I said.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind."

"What do you need to study first?" Merron said loudly.

"I heard from the trolls that you have a large library. I'd like to learn more about the Enchantment. Then, I'll draw some of you and find out about your government."

"The library is this way," Merron said. I followed him.

"Why don't you tell me about the elves as we walk?" I said.

"If you say so," Merron said. "We are ruled by the eldest elves. They are the wisest. But our eldest was captured by a nameless human."

"I've heard about him," I said. This human was starting to annoy me. "Was that elf the Enchanter among you?"

"No," Merron said, "though that human believed she was."

"Who is the Enchanter?" I asked.

He looked at me suspiciously.

"Fine, do not tell," I said. "I understand why you would be hesitant."

We arrived at the library. It was a round building nestled in a tree. I imagined what Girec would say if he'd been there. "You're right at home with these people, Squirrel. They live in trees!"

I climbed the ladder to get to the library. Inside, polished brown bookshelves adorned each wall, and crowded the rest of the space. Cozy blue carpets and a grand desk with stationery completed the room.

"Wow," I breathed. There were so many books! I imagined Girec and Lucia falling in love with this room. Falling in love with each other and the room. Huh.

"We've collected centuries of information in this room," Merron boasted.

"Where can I find books about the Enchantment?" I asked.

"I do not know," Merron admitted sheepishly. "But our historian might."

A scrawny elf wearing spectacles peeked out from behind a shelf. "It's the human!" he said in awe.

"Get out of here, Terrowin," Merron said with irritation.

Terrowin pushed up his spectacles and peered at me. His large ears pointed out of his russet, messy hair. Freckles dotted his face. "But the historian is in town today," he said, "and I can help the human find the books she is looking for."

"Fine," Merron grumbled, "just," he hesitated, "don't reveal . . . too much."

I raised an eyebrow. What were they hiding?

"Yes," said Terrowin. Then, he seemed to think of something. "Oh. I won't."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Nothing," said Terrowin unconvincingly. He led me over to a shelf. "This is our collection of books about the Enchantment. There are thirty-seven."

"Thirty-seven?" I exclaimed. "I cannot read that many in time. Can't you summarize what's in them for me."

"Yes, but it might take a while," he said.

"Make it as brief as possible," I said.

"I don't think that's a good idea--" Merron interrupted.

Terrowin shushed him. "Quiet. I'm about to tell a story." He fidgeted with the book he was holding, fingering the pages. His foot tapped a rhythm, as if he couldn't keep still. "Long ago," he began, his voice losing is slight waver and gaining firmness, "everyone lived together. The trolls, humans, faeries, elves--all of us lived among each other. But the humans gained power and believed the magical creatures were dangerous. And some were, such as the wyverns and banshees.

"At the time, all of the Enchanters in each race was alive. The human one was also part of the royal bloodline. He somehow harnessed the power of all the Enchanters, and trapped all of the creatures in Havane.

"A legend arose out of the despair of the imprisoned races. They believed someday, someone would be able to harness the power of all six Enchanters, and free them.

"We don't know much about the Enchantment itself, only that it only happened through the power of the Enchanta, some sort of magical object or something. To free the races, the harnesser of all the power would have to gather all the Enchanters together with that Enchanta, and recite a certain spell. Then, the magical barrier would break, and everyone would be free to live among each other once more."

I took a deep breath, as if I was breathing in all the information. I would have to find all of the Enchanters, the Enchanta, the spell, and the person who could harness all of the power. How could I do that?

"How do I find the spell?" I asked.

"I believe the faeries know of it. You could ask them. Our books tell no more. I have read every one."

"What about the Enchanters? Do you know where any of them are?"

I saw Ferrowin hesitate and look Merron. "No."

I did not believe him.

I remembered the young elf I'd seen in the woods that day. He'd saved me. I hadn't seen him since. Was that boy the Enchanter? Was that wise old elf the Enchanter?

I remembered something. "The trolls wanted me to take my information back to the king so he could help me. What could the king do?"

"The king could find the Enchanter much more easily than you could on your own," Ferriwon said. "He could also help you find the man who keeps taking Enchanters away from their people. If you find that man, then you can find out how he is getting Enchanters out of the island. Maybe their is an easier way to free us."

For some reason, I seriously doubted that.

"Thank you," I told Ferrowin. "For the information. Now, if you don't mind, could I sketch you for my book. Then, you can tell me all about the elves as I draw."

"I'd love to help," Ferrowin said.

"I'm sure there is someone else who could help," Merron said.

"I think Ferrowin is a good choice," I said.

Ferrowin beamed. The elves must not give him a lot of praise. I hope he would accidentally spill some information about who the elves' Enchanter was.

I opened my sketch book to a blank page and began Ferrowin's eyes as he rambled on about the foods and clothes the elves made. Before, I would've been interested about this information, but now, with the overwhelming extent of my quest before me, those things did not seem to matter much.

Once I finished drawing Ferrowin, I told him I'd meet him at the library in the morning the next day, despite Merron's protests.

"I have a better idea," Ferrowin said. "Why don't you stay with my mother and I in our home tonight. I'll talk to you all you want, and Mother can get you a bath and a change of clothes."

"That sounds amazing," I said. "Show me the way."

"No, I have to wait till the historian comes back so I can leave. I'll find you later. Why don't you walk around town?"

So that's what I did. I learned that elves lived about fifty years longer than humans, and that they weakened as they got older, but continued to look young.

We passed all sorts of little shops that reminded me greatly of Krialle. The elves were much more similar to humans than the other creatures of met, and it was making me homesick.

As we were walking past their council's building--which was in a tree, might I add, I spotted the young elf from earlier who had along shotted rocks at the wyvern. I ran up to him.

"Hello!" I said. "I'm Evelin Fendway. You saved me today, and I never got to thank you for it."

The kid nodded in response, his shaggy, blond hair falling in his eyes. He didn't look up at me.

"Are you unwell?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he said.

"What's your name?"

"Jax," the elf said.

"Well, thank you again, Jax," I said.

He nodded, without looking up.

I walked back over to Merron. "What's Jax's problem?" I asked.

"His parents were killed by wyverns when he was young. You might've noticed that the elves don't have overcrowding issues. It's because we are unprotected, and a flock of wyverns pass by us on the solstices and equinoxes every year, killing many. They kill others who venture out into the forest as well," Merron responded.

"Oh," I said sadly. "Don't you have an orphanage?"

"What's an orphanage?" Merron asked.

"It's a place for orphans to live."

"Huh," he said. "that sounds like a good idea."

"It is." I yawned. I was quite tired. "Well, I should find Ferrowin's place. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes," Merron said. "Follow me."
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