As with Elf Academy, 'Elves' is capitalized when the person using the word is either an Elf or a Mortal who knows of their existence. All other Mortals refer to Elves in lower case.

The Elves are rerferred to by both their Elvish names and their 'Mortal' names. Generally, when the point-of-view is that of a Mortal who is unaware of the true identity of the Elves with whom he or she is speaking, they are referred to by their Mortal names. Sometimes, their Elvish names are used if the point-of-view shifts. I will admit to inconsitency in this practice, as sometimes the Elves themselves will refer to each other by their Mortal names even when it's unnecessary. In such cases, the Mortal names can be seen as nicknames.

1: Infiltration

Washington, D.C., mid-January:

Artemus Gordon Meriwether walked down the halls of the Agency in a brown study, wondering what the Deputy Director wanted to see him about. He’d just finished a long-term assignment infiltrating a home-grown terrorist cell and uncovering their pathetic little plots to take over the world and was promised vacation time. He’d been in the middle of packing for a trip to the Bahamas when he got the call.

Cursing silently, he steeled himself to defy the D.D. and whatever she had planned for him. He’d earned this vacation and not even God was going to stop him from taking it. Though, come to think of it, and knowing the D.D. as he did, he wouldn’t be surprised if even God took orders from the redoubtable Madison ‘Don’t-call-me-Maddy’ Washburn.

He entered the outer office where the D.D.’s secretary held court. Sarah Dunlap looked liked Norman Rockwell’s grandmother, and was in fact a grandmother, always bringing home-baked cookies or brownies to the office and passing out grandmotherly advice along with the goodies, but she had a mind like a steel trap and a backbone made of titanium. No one got past her to see the D.D. unless she willed it so.

"Morning Mrs. Dunlap," Meriwether said respectfully as he entered.

The secretary smiled up at him. "Artemus. Nice to see you again. Herself is waiting for you. Go right in. Oh, and have a cookie."

He mentally cringed at his name. Only Mrs. Dunlap and his mother ever called him that. Everyone else, whether friend or foe, called him Gordon. Anyone else foolish enough to call him Artemus generally died a slow and painful death, at least in his imagination. Why his mother had burdened him with such a name, he never could figure out. He only knew that she’d been a fan of some TV western about spies and ‘Artemus Gordon’ had been her favorite character. It was ironic that he ended up becoming a spy — excuse me, an intelligence officer. With a name such as his, it was almost inevitable.

He dutifully took the cookie — molasses, it turned out to be — thanking her before knocking on the inner door and opening it. Inside, he saw the D.D. at her computer, concentrating on the screen.

"Sit down, Meriwether," she said without looking up. "I’ll be with you in a moment."

Gordon complied, munching on the cookie. Not that he wanted it, but he knew better than to refuse one of Sarah Dunlap’s cookies. Even as he was finishing with the cookie, the D.D. looked up, her steely-grey eyes full of approval.

"You did a good job with that terrorist cell," she said.

"But..."

She raised an eyebrow. "But nothing, Meriwether. You did a good job."

"And you called me all the way in here to tell me that?" Gordon asked. "If that’s all Deputy Director, there’s a beach in the Bahamas with my name on it." He started to rise.

"Sit down, Meriwether."

He scowled and leaned over the desk, glaring at his boss. "I was promised leave. I earned it and by God I’m taking it. Whatever it is, Maddy, you have three hundred other agents just begging to take the assignment on, so pull another name out of the hat."

He started toward the door when the D.D. pushed a photo at him. "Look at this first before you leave," she said and there was nothing in her tone that told him what she was thinking.

He reluctantly complied, picking up the photo and giving it a cursory glance. And then he gave it a closer look as he slowly sat down, a frisson of shock running through him. He glanced up at the D.D. "That’s impossible," he protested. "He’s dead. I went to his funeral."

"So it would seem," Madison Washburn said in a noncommital tone. "I’m having his supposed body exhumed even now. Hopefully we’ll find out just who we buried."

"But...." Gordon stared at the photo again. There was no mistake. It was Ambrose Elwood, one of his mentors when he first joined the Agency. Elwood had been his primary instructor, a brilliant strategist, a consummate agent and a good friend. His death while on assignment in the Middle East had come as a blow to young Meriwether, for he had looked upon him as the father he’d never known, Howard Meriwether having died in a car accident two months before his birth. The photo was definitely recent, for he could see someone in the background talking into a cell phone and Ambrose Elwood had died before they had become popular. Yet, in spite of the fact that the man had supposedly died almost fifteen years ago he looked the same as Gordon remembered him and that was too unnerving.

He glanced up at his boss who sat there expressionless, letting him take the time to digest what he was looking at. "Where was this taken and when?"

"Alaska, two weeks ago."

Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Alaska? What’s he doing in Alaska? Where has he been for the last fifteen years?"

For an answer, the D.D. pushed a folder towards him. He picked it up and opened it, scanning the documents with growing disbelief.

"Elf Academy? Is this a joke?"

"No joke," Madison Washburn assured him. "Ambrose Elwood — or rather, Ryan McKinley, as he is now known — teaches at the Northern Lights Community College in Wiseman. Has been for the last year. Where he was previously to showing up in Wiseman...." She gave a shrug.

"How did you find him?"

"We didn’t. That photo was sent to us, anonymously, along with other photos." She gave him a set of photos, each one of individuals. They were unusually handsome or beautiful people, and Gordon, comparing the photos with that of Elwood, noticed striking similarities between him and the others, all strangers to his eyes.

"So, what is it you want from me?"

"I want you to go to Alaska and become an elf."

"Excuse me?"

Madison Washburn actually smiled and Gordon could probably count on one hand the number of times in the last ten years that he had ever seen her smile. She picked up another piece of paper and handed it to him. It was an application form for this Elf Academy. He noticed it’d been filled out except for a name.

"He knows what I look like," he said.

"It’s been fifteen years and you are very good at disguises. So what name should we put on this form?"

"How do you know I will be accepted? Aren’t I a bit old for this?"

"The average age of the students is about twenty-eight, actually," she answered. "You’re older, true, but I know you can look younger, so you should have no trouble blending in. As for making sure you do get in...." Here she gave him a wintry smile.

He sighed and took another look at the photo of his friend and mentor. Ambrose Elwood, why are you alive? he thought to himself. Out loud he only said, "Alaska. I’d better dig out my long underwear and put my bathing suit away."

"You won’t need to be there until August. Take your vacation, get a nice tan, then come back and pack your longjohns. Name?"

"Hmm... He knows some of my aliases, as he helped me to create them. I’ll use Alex Grant. I created that persona after he... well, supposedly died."

The D.D. nodded. "Good enough. We’ll send this through. I suggest in the meantime you acquaint yourself with this Elf Academy." She handed him a glossy brochure. "As far as we can tell, it’s a legitimate school training people for their tourist industry, especially during the Christmas season."

"Why did our anonymous person send us these photos, then?"

"Apparently, all is not what it seems, but our informant was less than forthcoming as to just what is going on, and that’s why I want you to go there. I want you to find out what Elwood is up to and what this Elf Academy is all about. I may have some other agents in place in and around Wiseman, acting as tourists or something. I haven't decided yet. You’ll get a list of email addresses if I decide to send them so you can contact them if necessary. In the meantime, enjoy the Bahamas, Mr. Alex Grant, and I’ll see you when you get back."

She pushed the application his way and held out a pen. Sighing, Gordon signed it with his nom de guerre.

"I’ll see you in two months," he said, handing the pen back. On his way out he stopped long enough to give Mrs. Dunlap a peck on the cheek even as he stole another cookie. As he walked down the hall towards the elevators, perusing the Elf Academy brochure, he began making a mental list of things he needed to do to prepare himself for his upcoming trip to Alaska. "Christmas elf," he muttered in disgust as he pushed the elevator down button. "Oh lord, I hope they don’t make me dress up like that dude in Elf. I don’t think I want to find out first hand if someone can actually die from an acute case of embarrassment."

The elevator door opened and he stepped in, punching the lobby button and closed his eyes, wondering, not for the first time, whatever had induced him to become a spy — excuse me, an intelligence officer — in the first place. He had no ready answer and pushed it aside, deciding to concentrate on his upcoming vacation. There was a beach in the Bahamas with his name on it and he intended to take every advantage of it before heading for the wilds of Alaska.

2: Assessment

Wiseman, Alaska, late January:

Glorfindel looked around the conference room, seeing that all was in readiness for the upcoming meeting. The room had originally been the billiards room for the oil baron who had built the mansion now housing the Elves who resided in Wiseman, Alaska. It was paneled in dark wood and a crystal chandelier illuminated it. Hunting trophies had been removed and replaced with paintings done by Serindë, the daughter of Vorondur and Ercassë, and the youngest Elf in their retinue. She’d been born in the early years of the present age, yet she was considered the ‘baby’ of their little group, much to the relief of Elrond’s twin sons, who had held that position previously.

Glorfindel grinned at that thought as he walked around the conference table, making sure everything was in place. It was round and seated twelve, always an important number among the Eldar. The six Elves who’d first come to Wiseman sat there with the six Mortals whom they had befriended. Additional seating for everyone else was arranged in two arcs behind the table, leaving a gap before the door for easier egress. Satisfied with what he saw, he went to a sideboard that took up most of the wall space on one side, its ornate oak wood carvings recalling an earlier time. It was covered with several plates of goodies and a large crockpot simmering away with mulled cider. He poured himself a cup and glanced at the grandfather clock quietly tick-tocking away in the corner. Almost time.

As if that thought had summoned them, the door opened and Glorfindel looked to see several people entering. He smiled in welcome. "Right on time," he said. "Refreshments are on the sideboard. Help yourselves. As soon as everyone arrives we’ll get started."

With that, he went to his usual seat while the others congregated around the sideboard. A few more people arrived and after about ten minutes all were settled in their seats. Glorfindel looked around those seated at the table. Daeron, as their resident loremaster, sat on his left while Nimrodel, acting as recording secretary, was on his right. Beside her sat Mithrellas while Elladan sat beside Daeron with Elrohir next to his twin. The Mortals sitting with them were Zachary Austin, Judson von Frank, Matthew Stevens, Cassidy Morgan, Shane Englebert and Lily Zhang. Seated around them were the other Elves who made Wiseman their home as well as several other Mortals from the college and the community who constituted the governing board of the Northern Lights Community College’s Elf Academy.

"Let’s get started," Glorfindel said, speaking Sindarin, for that was the language spoken among them, even the Mortals, who sometimes had to resort to English when their knowledge of Sindarin failed. The Elves were tolerant of this and offered gentle corrections, being sure to praise them for learning the language as well as they had. As everyone ceased talking, Glorfindel looked around at those at the table, the Elves sitting still as stone, the Mortals fidgeting like elflings, and smiled. "So my children, how did we do?"

Now even the Mortals became completely still, everyone looking at everyone else, no one apparently willing to be the first to speak. Daeron raised an amused eyebrow. "Well, I guess I’ll start."

There were no sighs of relief, but the tension previously felt lessened and everyone relaxed as they listened to Daeron’s report.

The loremaster picked up a sheet of paper, giving it a quick perusal. "We had a class size of four hundred. Of that, approximately forty percent or actually a hundred and sixty-five came from out-of-state, twenty percent or about eighty people originally came here the winter before as tourists. These are the ones to whom we revealed ourselves as instructed by the Belain." He nodded towards the Elves sitting at the table. "The rest of the students came from somewhere in-state, most from the south."

He paused to see if anyone had a comment but when no one spoke he continued. "We surveyed the students and approximately eighty percent said that they were either satisfied or very satisfied with the courses and their experiences as Elf Guides. Fifteen percent said they were somewhat satisfied and the other five percent apparently weren’t happy campers." The drollness of his tone got a chuckle from his listeners. "The biggest complaint appears to have been the physical education requirements. This was especially true for the older students, those who were in their late twenties and early thirties. Most were unsure why an Elf Guide needed to know how to fence or engage in martial arts or use a bow and arrow."

"And yet, I noticed that it was the older students who were more enthusiastic about taking those particular courses," chimed in Phil Gordon, who headed the community college’s athletics program. He was sitting in the outer perimeter. "The survey seems to suggest otherwise."

Daeron shrugged and gave a slight smile. "I long ago ceased to try to figure out Mortals and their ambivalence towards many things in life. I can only tell you what were the results of the survey. I leave the psychoanalysis to others."

Glorfindel hid a smile at the almost identical expressions of affront on the faces of the Mortals sitting there. "The evidence does seem contradictory," he said, looking at Phil. "You’re saying that the older students were more enthusiastic about the phys. ed. program than the younger students? But there’s only at most a five or six year gap between the two age groups."

"Which means nothing to the Eldar but someone who is twenty-three is usually less mature in their outlook on life than someone who is thirty, especially if that thirty-year-old is married with at least one child, though perhaps you Elves would not necessarily notice the difference. I can’t explain the discrepancy. I can only tell you what I saw and not just me, but the other coaches also noticed the same thing."

"Well, we’ll have to look into it later," Glorfindel said. "Let’s move on." He nodded to Daeron to continue.

"I’ve done up a summary of the evaluation and you each have a copy before you. You can look it over at your leisure and we can discuss its ramifications over the Spring, but what I want to draw your attention to is the survey given to the townspeople." Here he picked up another sheet. "As was done before, we asked for volunteers from the townspeople to act as tourists during the students’ final exam. The response, both in numbers and in praise, was overwhelming. Of those who had participated as volunteers the first time, nearly ninety percent said that, overall, the quality of the students had improved and they were very pleased with the results. As a type of control, we recruited people who had not been volunteers that first winter and they gave us a ninety-seven percent approval rate. So obviously we’re doing something right."

They all chuckled at that.

"And finally, this year’s tourists," Daeron said after a moment. "Last season, only about five percent of those who came here as tourists were assigned to one of us Elves as their guides. Originally, we Elves did not think we should act as guides this time around, but of course that didn’t happen." He gave them a somewhat rueful grin and everyone there nodded, remembering the rather remarkable incident when two people showed up one day....

****

It was early in the term, and classes had been in full swing for a couple of weeks. On a particular Saturday, the Elves living at Edhellond were spending the day in conference, reviewing their teaching goals and expectations now that things were settling down. With them were a few of the Mortals who were involved in teaching as well, or acting as mentors to the students.

Amroth was in the middle of explaining how he and Paul Pettingill and the other rangers wanted to set up weekend camping trips throughout the semester to give the students a more hands-on experience of living in the wilderness when the doors to the room suddenly were flung open. Amroth stopped speaking and everyone craned their necks to see who had entered, but there was no one there.

Then there was the sound of someone clearing their throat and several people, most notably the Mortals, jumped in surprise, turning to see someone standing next to Glorfindel, who scrambled to his feet, as shocked as everyone else at the sight of Tulkas Astaldo, giving them a knowing smile. The Vala was dressed in a leather vest and leggings, his feet shod in sandals.

All the others also rose, and the Mortals had the satisfaction of seeing the Elves looking very nonplused, something that rarely happened.

Glorfindel bowed. "M-my Lord Tulkas," he stammered in Quenya, "welcome to... um... Edhellond."

The Vala gave Glorfindel a sideways glance, his smile broadening. "But not too welcome, heh, elfling?" he said in the same language.

"No... I mean... um... that is... my lord, what are you doing here?"

Tulkas’ answer was to throw back his head and laugh, reaching out with one arm and grabbing Glorfindel to give him a hug. Everyone had the dubious pleasure of seeing Glorfindel turning purple, struggling to breathe.

"Carefully, Brother. You know how fragile these mirroanwi are."

Now everyone nearly collapsed in shock as another person walked into the room and some visceral instinct alerted the Mortals that this was someone whom they would someday come to know more intimately than any of them would like.

Námo, Lord of Mandos, strode in, an amused expression on his face. He was dressed in a robe of midnight blue velvet with flowing sleeves over a shirt of dark purple figured silk. He wore a mithril circlet on his head, his blue-black hair Elf-braided. Around his neck he wore a pendent of gold and onyx with his emblem of the Sun-in-Eclipse.

Everyone instinctively bowed, even the Mortals who were becoming used to engaging in what most considered old-fashioned mannerisms. Tulkas, meanwhile, had released Glorfindel from his grip and was rubbing his back, keeping the ellon standing with a negligent hand on his elbow as the Elf-lord tried to get his breath back. The others just stood there uncertainly, not knowing what was going on. No one could look at Námo directly, most were looking at Tulkas as the safer bet.

Daeron reached over and grabbed the glass of water sitting in front of Glorfindel’s seat and handed it to the ellon who nodded his thanks. He drank the water in two gulps and put the glass down, turning to Námo. "So, Nate, long time no see. Whatcha been doing with yourself lately?" he said, deliberately speaking in colloquial English, much to the shock of the others, especially the other Elves.

Námo threw back his head and laughed and Tulkas joined him, the crystal chandelier above them swinging as if from an earth tremor. "I almost deserve that, elfling," Námo said, when he and Tulkas had calmed down. He spoke in English. "Almost." He gave Glorfindel a significant look and the Elf had the grace to blush and stammer an apology, giving the Vala a proper bow. Námo nodded and turned his amaranthine eyes upon the rest of the group. "Be at peace, my children. All is well. Come, sit. We need to talk."

Elves and Mortals looked to Glorfindel for reassurance and when the ellon nodded, taking his own seat, the others followed suit. Tulkas remained standing between Glorfindel and Nimrodel, his arms crossed before him, while Námo stood opposite him between Zach Austin and one of the Elves, an ellon named Gilvegil, otherwise known as Gil, both of them looking a little ill. Námo placed a comforting hand on their shoulders, willing calm, and soon they were relaxing. The Lord of Mandos looked at Glorfindel.

"You must forgive our intrusion, but certain matters need to be discussed."

"We’ve been holding planning meetings all Spring and Summer," Glorfindel said with a frown. "Why choose now to join us when we’ve already started teaching?"

"Well, for one thing, you’re not our only concern," Námo said. "There was a supernova in the Andromeda galaxy that needed our attention. Lord Manwë was concerned that some of the higher dimensions in that particular area of space might be adversely affected. As it is, it took most of us to deal with the situation. We’ve only just gotten back."

"S-s-supernova?" Zach Austin stammered, his eyes wide as he looked up at the Lord of Mandos.

"Andromeda galaxy?" Paul said almost at the same time, his jaw dropping. "But that’s... um... far away." He looked apologetic at being unable to come up with a better description.

"About two-and-a-half million light-years, give or take," Námo replied with equanimity. "Merely a thought away for us."

"Oh," Paul said, not able to muster up anything more or better to say. The Mortals all stared at the two Valar, dimly beginning to understand just who these Beings were.

"Getting back to the matter at hand, my lord," Glorfindel said with a wave of his hand. He was more familiar with the Valar and their abilities than anyone else there and was less impressed, or rather, he was very impressed, but chose not to show it, thereby implicitly letting the others know how to act.

Námo raised an eyebrow. "Very well. I believe you have decided not to be an Elf Guide this time around, nor are any of the other Firstborn."

"Well, we are the teachers, after all," Glorfindel said with a faint smile. "It just wouldn’t do."

Námo shrugged. "That is neither here nor there. You who were Elf Guides last year will be guides again this year. We’ll leave it to you to decide with which companies you will associate yourselves, though I think it would be wise to simply have the resort or safari company you worked for last time rehire you for the duration. Actually, you should consider yourselves permanent employees of said resorts and safari companies."

"Is that an order, my lord?" Glorfindel asked, frowning slightly.

"If you wish, or think of it as a very strong suggestion which would make us all very happy if you complied." The underlying threat to that statement was not lost on any of them. The Mortals, especially, hoped never to see this particular Vala unhappy about anything.

Daeron cleared his throat. "I’m assuming you wish us to reveal ourselves to whomever we are assigned to guide just as before?"

Námo nodded, looking pleased. "Yes. We will be manipulating things to assure that you six are assigned certain people. This is an ongoing project, my children, one that will take years to see to fruition. For better or worse, Wiseman has been chosen as our base of operations here in these Mortal lands. For the foreseeable future, continue acting as Elf Guides along with the Mortals, revealing your identities to those whom we send."

"What about the rest of us?" Amroth spoke up.

Námo nodded. "The rest of you may join as Elf Guides if you wish, but for the moment, we are limiting contact only to the six who originally came here. Getting the right people to them will be tricky enough without adding to the problem. In time, we may allow you to switch off, as I believe the expression is, so you others can have the fun of revealing yourselves to the Secondborn."

"How magnanimous of you, my lord," Amroth retorted somewhat sarcastically, casting a wry look at the Vala.

"Oh, you have no idea just how magnanimous we truly are, Child," Námo said with all seriousness. "Now, if that’s settled, we need to be on our way."

Tulkas nodded and made his way around the table to stand beside Námo, who gave them a smile. "You are doing well, my children, and we are proud of you." With that, the two Valar walked out of the room, the doors closing silently behind them....

****

"How many more tourists were we assigned compared to last year?" Glorfindel asked. "I got the impression that I had more assignments than last time."

"We all did," Daeron said with a nod. "Last year we Elves worked an average of three days out of seven, far less than everyone else from the Academy. This year the average was five days. The number of tourists who came during the period between Thanksgiving and New Year’s was about the same as last season, mostly due to the continuing economic crisis, but we Elves guided approximately fifteen percent of them."

"That’s a significant jump," Elladan said with a low whistle.

"Very," Daeron said with a nod. "And I noticed that, on the average, the families we guided usually had older children. Last year I think the average age of the children was ten or eleven, but this year it was closer to thirteen."

"Is that significant?" Mithrellas asked.

Daeron shrugged. "Only time will tell," he replied.

Glorfindel nodded. "In the meantime, we need to discuss any changes we want to make to the curriculum for next term and whether we want to expand the curriculum into a two-semester program, which I believe has the approval of the resorts and safari companies." He turned to Roland Smith, president of Wiseman’s Chamber of Commerce. The man nodded.

"Winter is not the only season we have here," he said somewhat dryly. "We want to expand the program to incorporate all seasons. We need guides all year round."

"That can be handled by other colleges in the state offering such programs, though," Elrohir commented.

"But we have a unique situation here and it would be wise to keep such matters in-house, so to speak," Smith said.

"Well, for the moment we need to concentrate on Elf Academy training people to be guides during the winter season," Glorfindel said. "We have no mandate to expand and I would like to make sure Elf Academy is fully established before looking at expanding its program. Now as to changes in the curriculum, I believe we were going to institute sword-fighting, replacing fencing."

"I recommend we don’t do away with fencing," Phil Gordon said. "Sword-fighting takes a great deal of physical strength and not everyone has it, even among males. I would keep fencing for those who may not desire to take up sword-fighting or are physically not capable of doing so."

"Like me, for instance," Lily Zhang said, raising her hand. "I have to agree with Phil. I have no desire to go into that kind of training, nor do I think everyone should be made to."

"How do the rest of you feel?" Glorfindel asked, looking at the various Mortals. Most shrugged, not willing or unable to offer an opinion.

"I think we should go slow with this, myself," Elladan said. "Quite frankly, we should be teaching the children rather than the adults, though I know that idea won’t sit well with most parents these days."

"Martial arts should be stressed, I think," Shane Englebert said. "Everyone is into martial arts and archery. Let’s hold off on the sword-fighting as a mandatory class for now. I think you should offer it as an option first and see what response you get."

"That makes sense," Glorfindel conceded. "Everyone in favor?" They all raised their hands.

"Good. I will leave Elladan and Elrohir and Vorondur to design a course that will take into account the fact that we are teaching sword-fighting to adults rather than to children."

"Why is that significant?" Jud von Frank asked with a frown.

"Sword-fighting is a skill best taught when a person is young," Elrohir answered. "Ellyn were usually introduced to it when they were about thirty, using wooden practice swords. Mortals tended to start training their boys when they were about ten or eleven."

"Anything else?" Glorfindel asked.

"Are you going to offer Quenya as an optional course again or will you make it mandatory?" Zach asked.

"I think I will continue offering it as an option," Glorfindel replied. "While it is the language spoken by the majority of the people in Aman, it is not the only language spoken and when I left there were schools established throughout Eldamar for teaching Sindarin. I would like to expand the language program for the community, though. I think it wise for the children of Wiseman to be able to communicate in both languages, as well as the more popular languages of today."

"Then you want us to open up more classes to the community?" Alphwen asked. She was a Sinda who normally went by the name Alfa.

Glorfindel nodded. "Especially during the Spring and Summer when we are otherwise not teaching at the college."

"I can tell you that, as someone who lives and works in the community, I look forward to that time and so do others," said Max Lightfoot, who ran Lightfoot Reindeer Farms with his wife, Lucy. She was present as well, quietly nursing their infant son, Petey. "I only wish you could see a way to have classes for us during the Fall term as well, but I know at the moment that’s not possible and some of us are actually too busy working to bother."

"We may be able to open up one evening a week for the community where we offer a couple of courses," Daeron suggested. "Are there any particular courses that you think would garner more interest than others?"

Max shrugged. "Quenya, I think, plus more Sindarin."

"And history," Lucy spoke up. "I think we need more in-depth history to understand just what is happening and why."

Others among the Mortals nodded. "And that goes doubly so for those of us who are helping you teach," Marion Goodfellow said. "Sometimes I feel I haven’t a clue about what is really happening."

"We need more training," Deirdre Clannach said. "We need to know more than the students, but right now, we’re barely ahead of them and they know it."

"Then perhaps during the Spring and Summer we can set up a training program for those working with us at the Academy and the college at large," Nimrodel said.

There was general agreement to that idea and in the end Glorfindel asked Nimrodel and Marion to work together in designing such a program. "In the meantime, we will start recruiting for the next class. I think Daeron, Elrohir and Ercassë have ideas concerning recruitment."

The three Elves nodded. "And I think I may be able to improve on our hidden message to other Elves," Daeron said. "I cannot believe we fifteen are all that is left. There must be others out there and I mean to find them."

Glorfindel nodded, looking pleased. "Then, if that’s all, we will adjourn until next month when we can assess our progress on the different fronts. I am anticipating another successful year for Elf Academy. Thank you, everyone."

At that, the meeting broke up and people began to mingle and visit, all of them optimistic and hopeful that the next class of Elf Academy would be even better than the last.

****

Words are Sindarin unless otherwise noted: 

Belain: Plural of Balan: Vala.

Edhellond: Elf Haven, the name given to the mansion where the Elves residing in Wiseman live.

Mirroanwi: (Quenya) Plural of mirrowanë: An incarnate being, i.e. Elves and Mortals.

Ellyn: Plural of ellon: Male Elf.

3: Trouble Looming

Late July:

Glorfindel looked up at the knock on his door and smiled. "Marian. What can I do for you?"

Marian Goodfellow, once the head administrator of Elf Academy, now acting as Glorfindel’s liaison with the governing board of directors of the Northern Lights Community College, entered the Elf-lord’s office and took a seat. She was a tall woman, with ash blond hair held in a tight bun and ice-blue eyes.

"We may have a problem," she said without preamble.

"And that being?"

"As you are probably aware, Northern Lights Community College is accredited through the Alaska Commission on Colleges and Universities or the ACCU as it is generally called." Glorfindel nodded. "Yes, well. While the college is accredited, Elf Academy is not."

Glorfindel frowned. "What do you mean? It is part of the college. Would not the college’s accreditation cover the Academy as well?"

"Yes, it would and it will but at the moment it only has a preliminary accreditation. When a college or university creates a new school — and as whimsical as ‘Elf Academy’ sounds it’s legal name is the School of Tourism — there is a two-year probation before the ACCU comes in to check on the new school to see that it conforms with the criteria for formal accreditation. Well, that two-year grace period is up for us and members of the ACCU will be coming to Wiseman over the course of a couple of weeks or so to check up on us."

"And you think that may cause a problem."

"It may. I am not entirely sure. When we set up the Academy we filed a form with the ACCU that outlines the purpose of the Academy, its administrative structure, the nature of the courses, the types of teachers we were hiring and their qualifications to teach the courses we would be offering and other pertinent information. Almost like a... a flight-plan to let the ACCU know in which direction we were heading." She gave him a mirthless smile. "Well, to continue the analogy, we’ve veered off-course a tad and the air traffic controllers will not be happy about it."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow but did not immediately reply. Instead, he gazed out the window of his office, a window that looked out onto the Brooks Mountain Range. Finally, he turned back to Marian sitting patiently, waiting for his response. "And you were going to tell me all this when?"

"I think I just did."

"I mean, it never occurred to you to tell me this when we began restructuring the curriculum and changing the focus of this Academy?"

"To tell you the truth, I didn’t think about it," she said ruefully. She gave him a small smile. "I think I was in a continual state of shock for most of last year. Too much change all at once and I was trying to adapt."

"And you’ve done so beautifully," Glorfindel assured her. "And I apologize. My question was uncalled-for. You and the others have done a great job in helping us. Daeron is probably the only one who’s had actual experience in working within a college setting."

"You never went to college?" Marian couldn’t help asking with a sly grin.

Glorfindel laughed. "Not in the way you mean," he replied. "The last time I formally attended any type of higher education was in Paris." He gave her a winning smile. "I was rather fascinated by the teachings of a certain young Dominican friar by the name of Thomas."

Marian blinked. "Er... you don’t mean... um... Thomas Aquinas?"

Glorfindel nodded, his eyes bright with amusement.

"Oh," was all Marian could think to say. Then she blushed under Glorfindel’s regard. "It’s so easy sometimes to forget that you’re old... I mean...."

"It’s all right, Marian," Glorfindel said sympathetically. "Immortality does have its drawbacks. But getting back to the accreditation, what precisely are we looking at? How thorough are they? What happens if they don’t grant us accreditation?"

"Well we don’t stop functioning, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Accreditation is merely a means by which the public is told that a particular institution abides by certain standards with regard to teaching and administration. A prospective student looks and sees that the school meets these standards of excellence and is recognized by the state as being a legitimate institution of higher education and not a fly-by-night operation whose diploma isn’t worth the paper it’s written on."

"And you think that Elf Academy might be in danger of not receiving this accreditation."

"There is that possibility. I’m not saying it’s a done deal, only that we must tread carefully. Thanks to you and your friends, our mandate has changed."

"Perhaps, but really, we haven’t changed it that much, yet," Glorfindel pointed out. "This school still is in the business of training people for the tourist industry. Specifically, to be tour guides during the winter season. Not everyone who comes here will stay or will be aware of what is actually happening. They will leave here with the ability to act as a tour guide in almost any situation if they desire to remain in the tourism industry."

"Our original purpose was to train people specifically for this region and for the winter season, though some of the safari companies and resorts are seeing increased activity during other times of the year. It had always been my goal, once Elf Academy was firmly established, to expand the curriculum to a one-year degree program and add courses in tourism administration, training people not only to be tour guides, but to be able to act as tourist agents and managers of tourist companies, that sort of thing. Rather than awarding our students with a certificate of completion at the end of it all, we would be able to award them an associates degree in tourism administration."

"That is certainly a worthy goal and I think eventually we can do that," Glorfindel said. "At the moment, though, we need to assure that we are granted accreditation so you can implement your plan."

Marian frowned. "You have no objections ? I thought you didn’t want to expand the Academy’s curriculum."

"And I do not, at least not at this time. In a sense, we need to be a bit clandestine about all this. On the surface, we need to keep up the image of this Academy as training people to be tour guides and that will not change any time soon, believe me. At the same time, select people from each class will be made aware of what is really going on and these people, along with the townspeople and others will be the beginning of the Army of Light."

Marian raised an eyebrow. "An army? That’s a bit premature, isn’t it?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "No. The Valar are determined that Mortals have a vital role to play in the coming war and it is coming, make no mistake about it. It may not come in your lifetime, Marian, or even in the lifetime of the child born yesterday, but when it does, we Elves will be ready and with us will be the Mortals we train right here in Wiseman, even if they are your great-grandchildren yet to be born."

Silence fell between them and then Marian stirred. "We seem to be getting off point again. I really just wanted to let you know that the Commission will be sending people here sometime in the next few weeks. There is some preliminary paperwork that needs to be gotten through in the meantime and I will have it ready for you shortly to review. It’s a rather exhaustive questionnaire."

"Do what you need to, Marian, and just let me know how I or anyone else can help."

"It would probably be a good idea to have the staff come together for a meeting so I can explain what this is all about and how we should conduct ourselves during the period of review."

"Sounds good. Set it up for Saturday afternoon at Edhellond. I think it best we not meet here on campus for this."

Marian nodded and rose. "I’ll send everyone an email to let them know. Two o’clock okay?"

Glorfindel nodded and Marian let herself out. For several minutes Glorfindel just sat there, staring at nothing in particular, twiddling with the pen in his hand.

"Pui-en-orch!" he suddenly snarled, hurling the pen to the desk. He leaned back with a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "Just what we need."

****

Saturday afternoon saw everyone involved in Elf Academy meeting at the Elves’ headquarters. Some of the Mortals had grumbled about having to change their Saturday afternoon schedules, but no one refused the summons. By two o’clock, all were seated in the conference room and Glorfindel handed the meeting over to Marian who gave them a brief run-down of what to expect from the accreditation committee. For the sake of clarity, this meeting was conducted in English rather than in Sindarin.

"Where do you see a problem?" Paul Pettingill asked once she was finished.

"There are two areas of concern," Marian answered. "The first is our curriculum and the second is faculty. As those of you who were in on this from the beginning know, the various resorts and safari companies came to the college asking for help in designing a program to train people to be tour guides specifically for the winter holidays, which is where they were seeing a substantial amount of business. Because of the specialized nature of their tour packages for the holiday season, they wanted people who knew what they were doing and were willing to act as ‘elves’" — here she raised her hands and crooked her fingers to indicate quotation marks — "rather than just having regular tour guides lead the tours. To that end, we designed Elf Academy, deciding what skills the students needed to have based on the criteria given to us and how best to teach them and who should teach it. Deirdre and I essentially designed the entire course syllabus and then went to you Rangers to see if you would help with the winter survival courses while Roland handled the employment aspects."

"And I still don’t see the problem," Paul said.

"The problem is that we now have other people teaching courses for which the Academy was not originally designed. Elf Etiquette was just a fancy way of teaching industry ethics and codes of behavior rather than having the students actually learn Sindarin."

"We still teach ethics, but we’ve incorporated it into the On Being a Tour Guide class," Glorfindel pointed out.

"And that’s fine, as far as it goes," Marian acknowledged, "but now we are having our students learn Sindarin rather than learning how to speak forsoothly, as someone put it. And then there is the question of qualified people teaching."

"We’re all qualified to teach Sindarin, Marian," Barahir said with a laugh. He was one of the Sindar who taught the language course and went by the Mortal name of Barry. "It’s our native language after all."

Marian gave him a cold smile. "A language that is not recognized by the State of Alaska as a legitimate language. The people from the ACCU will assume that it is entirely made up and has no actual legitimacy. They will, and quite rightly, ask about its relevance for a student who is studying to be a tour guide. They are more likely to ask why, if we are teaching a foreign language at all, we are not teaching basic Spanish, French or even Russian, as it’s a possibility that some of the tourists will not be native English speakers. Do you understand my point? I have no objections to the Sindarin, but unless we let the ACCU in on our little secret, they are going to question the need for it."

There was a pause as people digested this information.

"Is the language course your only concern?" Glorfindel asked after a moment.

Marian shook her head. "We have the problem of our physical education requirements. The college requires all students with certain exceptions to take so many hours of physical education classes and there is a broad range of classes from which to choose. However, we’ve limited the choices to essentially two or three and have made them mandatory rather than optional. So a student has to take archery whether they like it or not. Again, the relevance is lacking, at least it will seem so to the ACCU. The physical education requirement in and of itself is not a problem. It’s purpose is to ensure that the students enjoy an active life beyond the classrooms and the only thing we did was insist on a running/walking class for conditioning purposes in addition to any other sports activities the students wished to take. The ACCU is going to ask what relevance does archery, martial arts and fencing really have for the Academy when we should only be stressing general physical fitness."

There was a collective sigh among many as the implications of what Marian was telling them became apparent. "Yet, neither you nor anyone else from the college raised any objections to the changes that we’ve made or alerted us to the implications of those changes," Elladan said.

"And in that I was at fault," Marian admitted. "Glorfindel called me on that issue when I spoke to him earlier about this and I told him that I had completely forgotten about the ACCU and the upcoming accreditation."

"And I told you I do not hold you to blame, Marian," Glorfindel interjected. "You and everyone else were still coming to grips with what was happening. Your entire worldview was altered and it’s taken time for you to accept the new order of things. I’m not surprised you forgot about the ACCU but now that we know what is coming we can prepare for it."

"By my counsel, I would not rush to change anything," Daeron spoke then. "First, it will just confuse our students, and second, it will force people to lie or at least not be entirely truthful and I hesitate to place anyone in such an awkward position. What I do propose is this: Barry, you and the other Sindarin teachers should focus for a bit on diction and presentation. I know you tend to work on that later in the course, but let’s switch things around a bit. Continue teaching Sindarin by all means, and when the ACCU asks we will simply tell them that forcing the students to learn a ‘made up’ language is a teaching technique to help them to think outside of their normal frame of reference as English speakers."

Barry nodded. "And that is what I told the students in the last class when some of them questioned the need for it. I won’t do it immediately though. Do we know when we will have our visitation?" He looked to Marian as he asked the question.

"The exact date is yet to be determined but I suspect they will be here around the third week of term," Marian replied. "The accreditation procedure will take about a week or so."

"That doesn’t give us much time, but we’ll do what we can to make this process as painless as possible for everyone," Glorfindel said. "To that end, we will break up into small groups to address specific concerns. Marian, you and I are going to go over that questionnaire you mentioned with a fine-tooth comb and highlight any problematic areas and then I will assign various people to come up with solutions for them. Essentially, what we need to do is hide in plain sight so the ACCU committee sees only what we want them to see and they go away happy."

"And we can do it, if we remain calm," Daeron added. "As I understand it, once we are granted full accreditation, then we will be under the college’s umbrella, so to speak, and the next accreditation review will not focus only on us but on the college as a whole. That will make it easier for us, but we need to get that accreditation now for all our sakes. Elf Academy is too vital to the plans of the Valar for us to fail."

"And we will not," Nimrodel said decisively, and the other Elves nodded though some of the Mortals, especially the younger ones, appeared doubtful.

"Well, if that is all for the moment, then I believe we can be on our way," Glorfindel said, rising and the others joined him. He gave them all an encouraging smile. "We’ll get through this, people. Enjoy the rest of the weekend."

With those words, the Mortals began shuffling out, some lingering for a word or two with one of the Elves, none of whom made a move to leave. Eventually, all the Mortals were gone, at which point Glorfindel resumed his seat and the other Elves did the same with those who normally did not sit at the conference table joining them. For a moment no one spoke, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Finally Glorfindel stirred and addressed the ellon seated on his right who went by the mortal name of Ryan McKinley.

"Tell us about Alex Grant," he said.

****

Pui-en-orch!: (Sindarin) Orc-spit. Glorfindel’s favorite swear word.

Notes:

1. There is no Alaska Commission on Colleges and Universities, however, the ACCU is loosely based on the Northwest Commission on Colleges and Universities (NWCCU) which covers accreditation in Alaska and six other states. I have borrowed and adapted some of their accreditation criteria for plot purposes.

2. Thomas Aquinas taught at the University of Paris between 1256-59.

4: Settling In

Tuesday, 2 August:

‘Alex Grant’ turned the knob of the door leading into what would be his room for the next several months, forcing down a sigh. He had not been happy to learn that the D.D. had checked on the application that he would need a dorm room. He’d been all set to rent an apartment in town, preferring his privacy, but, as was pointed out to him, he wasn’t likely to learn much of anything if he wasn’t on campus 24/7. So now he was going to have to put up with a roommate, someone who was no doubt a good ten years younger than himself and clueless about keeping a room clean.

So he was pleasantly surprised to open the door to a pristine room where one bed was already neatly made; the other still had its sheets, blankets and pillows folded neatly on the end. As Alex entered, its occupant looked up from where he was sitting at one of the study desks reading.

"I was wondering if I was going to be rooming alone," the young man said with a ready smile as he stood to greet him. He was tall and lanky with short light-brown hair and hazel eyes and looked to be closer to thirty than twenty. Holding out his hand he introduced himself. "Name’s Lowell, Derek Lowell."

"Grant, Alex Grant. Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. Ran into car trouble just outside Fairbanks and had to cool my heels for a couple of days while they hunted for the part. Damn starter just quit on me. Put a nice little dent in my bank account, let me tell you."

"Sorry to hear it, mate," Derek said sympathetically, then he gave him a winning smile. "But you’re here now and that’s all that matters. So, why don’t you get yourself unpacked and I’ll give you a tour of the facilities since you missed orientation, and then we can head for dinner. The cafeteria isn’t too bad here, better than most places I’ve eaten."

Alex nodded. "It won’t take me long to unpack. I’ll have to take a look at the orientation packet later. I hope I don’t have to catch up too much."

"I doubt it. Classes have only just begun. Here, give me the packet and I’ll check to see which division you’re in."

"Division?" Alex asked even as he handed the manila envelope over to Derek and began wrestling with his carry-all.

"Yeah. The class has been divided into sections and each section takes a certain number of classes together and then after midterm we switch. Some of these classes are definitely strange."

"What do you mean? I confess I really haven’t looked too closely at the material they sent me when I was accepted. I was too busy putting stuff in storage and all."

"I hear you, mate," Derek said. "Ah, you’re in luck. You have the same classes as I so I can easily tell you what we’ve covered so far."

"Great. That should help." Alex shoved the last of his clothes in the dresser and stowed his bags under the bed out of the way. "I’ll put the bed together later. Why don’t you give me that tour and tell me what I missed?"

"Sounds good to me," Derek said, handing the manila envelope back to Alex who placed it on his desk. The two headed out the door. "First stop on our three-penny tour is the gym. It’s well stocked with the latest machines and...."

****

"So where do you hail from?" Derek asked sometime later. They had looked into every nook and cranny of the building — "Except the ladies’ side," Derek had said with a wide grin. "It’s verboten unless you have a pass from your mummy." Alex had laughed at that, warming to the man’s quirky sense of humor — and now they were seated in the cafeteria having dinner. They had gotten there early enough that the students were still filing in and were able to find a place to themselves, at least for now.

"Back east," Alex said. "Recently D.C. but I grew up in New Hampshire. And you?"

"Oakland, at least that’s where my dad is. I’ve spent the last six years on the Kitty Hawk seeing the world."

"Ah, Navy then. I thought you might have been in one of the military branches but I wasn’t sure."

Derek gave a shrug. "Been out for about a year now. Tried to find work but... well, you know how it is and even veterans aren’t getting any breaks lately."

Alex nodded. "So how did you end up here?"

Derek gave him one of his warm smiles. "I was about to ask you the same. You don’t look like the loser type."

Alex frowned. "Is that what you think? That those of us here are all losers, including you?"

Derek shrugged, his smile less certain. "Sorry. Just my stupid mouth again. Dad says it’s amazing I didn’t spend my six years in the brig or being keel-hauled on a regular basis."

Alex snorted the coffee he was drinking, coughing and laughing at the same time. Derek gave him a sheepish smile. When he had recovered himself, he gave Derek a shrewd look. "So just how did you end up here?"

"My dad’s idea, mostly," Derek answered with a shrug as he buttered a roll. "He said it was time for me to do a one-hundred-eighty-degreer."

"Huh?"

Derek laughed."His word for it, meaning that you turn around and do something completely opposite from what you are used to doing as a way of getting a better perspective on your life. Makes sense really when you think about it. After I got out I think it was a couple of months before I stopped ‘sirring’ everyone in sight and trying to get my land legs back. Dad thought doing something like this would help break me out of my naval mindset enough to be able to focus on the rest of my life."

Alex nodded. "Sounds like your dad’s been there and done that."

"You have no idea, mate," Derek replied with much feeling. He paused, frowning slightly. "Funny thing is...."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just that for weeks before my dad showed me the Elf Academy brochure and suggested I apply I’d been having these weird dreams of going to Alaska and joining the Iditarod race."

"The dog sled race?" Alex said disbelievingly. "Do you even own a dog sled?"

"No, of course not," Derek replied with an embarrassed laugh. "I don’t know one end from the other. No, I’m just saying I kept having these dreams about Alaska and then my dad shows me the brochure. It was totally creepy... or a sign. Not sure which, but anyway, here I am about to become a Christmas elf. So now I’ve told you my sob story, what’s yours?"

Alex shrugged. "Company was downsizing and I didn’t have enough seniority so it was ‘adios amigo’ and I was suddenly among the great unwashed and unemployed."

"That’s tough. So you decided to run away to Alaska instead of looking for work?" Derek gave him a slow smile.

Alex smiled back. "Something like that. Actually, a friend who’s in the travel business told me about the Academy. Said if I applied and went through the program she might consider hiring me as she wants to expand her business to include more out-of-the-way places for her clients and she’ll want to hire people who are familiar with such places."

"Well, there you go. At least you have some prospects once you’re done here. So how do your folks feel about it?"

Alex shrugged. His mother was well aware of what he did for a living since he refused to keep any secrets from her. When he told her about joining the Agency Anne Meriwether’s only comment had been ‘Make sure you take an extra pair of clean underwear wherever you go’ and that had been the end of the discussion. He always made a point of contacting her before and after each mission. When he’d told her he was going to Alaska to hunt up an old friend she had merely told him to remember to pack his long underwear and wished him godspeed.

"My mom’s pretty cool about it," he answered after a moment. "What my dad thinks of it is anyone’s guess since he died before I was even born."

"That’s rough, mate," Derek said. "My parents divorced when I was ten and my dad raised me because my mom wasn’t interested. Haven’t seen her for some time now. I think she moved to New Jersey or maybe it was Ohio, can’t really remember." He gave him a diffident shrug then concentrated on his apple pie.

Alex raised an eyebrow but did not comment. Instead he changed the subject. "So tell me about the classes I’ve missed."

"Well, they sound like fun courses on paper, but let me tell you, we have our work cut out for us. There’s a course on speaking elvish and believe me you’d think it was a real language. We even have a textbook, a primer, the teacher called it. Oh and you wouldn’t have believed what they did at orientation. Dudes dressed up like they were auditioning for Camelot or something. All these flowing robes and such and calling themselves Lord this and Lady that. But I guess they want us to be... um... fully immersed into the whole elf thingy so we really act the part. And we also have to have elvish names."

"Elvish names?" Alex demanded. "What...?"

"They have a list of weird sounding names and we get to choose them or maybe they’ll do a lottery. Not quite sure. Anyway, we’ll all have these elvish names and we have to get used to calling each other by these names. I guess elves don’t have names like Alex and Derek."

"What about Bernard?" Alex asked slyly. "Remember him from The Santa Clause?"

Derek laughed. "Oh yeah, and those ‘Elves with Attitude’. They broke me up."

"Well, I guess I’ll find out tomorrow how it is. Do you know what we’ll be doing tomorrow?"

"If it’s Wednesday, it must be Baking Day," Derek said with a smile. "We spend the morning learning to bake holiday goodies of all sorts. Apparently every elf is also a gourmet cook or at least a deft hand at baking cookies and such. Yeah, I know, it sounds weird, but I think I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be a nice break from learning verb tenses in this Sindarin as they’re calling the elvish language."

"Because I was late getting here, I have to meet with one of the admin people tomorrow at nine o’clock," Alex told him. "I was told the meeting wouldn’t take long so hopefully I won’t miss too much of the class tomorrow."

"I’ll save you a spoon to lick," Derek replied with a grin and Alex grinned back.

****

Nine o’clock sharp saw Alex standing outside the office of one Darren Harper. At least, that was the name on the door along with some rather decorative squiggles underneath that looked almost like Hebrew but not quite. He shrugged. He’d noticed as he and Derek had walked the halls the night before that all the doors had the same or similar looking squiggles. He’d asked Derek about them. The former sailor had shrugged as he answered, "They’re supposed to be that Sindarin I told you about."

Thinking that perhaps these people were taking things a bit too far with all this elvish stuff, he knocked on the door and when he heard someone call out to enter he opened to find himself in a rather pedestrian office. At least, if you ignored the tall harp sitting in one corner and what looked like some kind of medieval tapestry on one of the side walls. He eyed the person sitting behind the desk and had to force himself not to gape. He’d half-expected to find someone dressed like a medieval lord from the way Derek had described things the night before, but the man facing him was wearing a button-down shirt and V-neck sweater. That wasn’t what had stopped Alex in his tracks, though. Darren Harper was... beautiful though, he amended to himself, not in a feminine way but rather in the classical sense of masculine beauty celebrated by the ancient Greeks, only more so. He had, of course, studied all the photos the D.D. had given him on these people but the photos fell far short of the reality. There was an aura surrounding Darren Harper that was unnerving to the young agent and it took him a moment to realize it was the same sense of... veiled power that he’d encountered with Ambrose Elwood so many years before.

"Mister Grant?" Darren said, rising to extend his hand in greeting.

Alex had to pull himself together and extend his own hand. He was pleasantly surprised at how firm Harper’s grip was. "Yes. I’m... Ar... um... Alex... Alex Grant," he stuttered, feeling flustered and suddenly shy for some strange reason.

Darren gave him an amused look. "You seem unsure of your name. Are you all right?"

"Yes. Sorry. It’s been that kind of week." Alex gave what he hoped was a diffident enough shrug even as he silently castigated himself for acting like a wet-behind-the-ears recruit instead of a seasoned intelligence officer.

"Understandable," Darren said, gesturing for Alex to sit even as he resumed his own seat. "I trust everything is well with your car?"

"Yes, though my bank account isn’t very happy with me at the moment."

Darren chuckled. "I won’t keep you long, Mr. Grant. I just wanted to welcome you to the Northern Lights Community College’s Elf Academy and to give you your textbooks for the courses you were not able to attend." He gestured to a small pile of books on his desk. Alex glanced at them and nodded.

"I appreciate that, sir. My roommate, Derek Lowell, filled me in a bit on what I’ve missed so far." He paused for a moment, wondering how far he could go in questioning the man about the Academy and one Ryan McKinley, a.k.a. Ambrose Elwood. At the end, though, he decided to play it safe. "I was wondering about all this elvish stuff. Derek showed me the...the primer, I think he called it. Whoever came up with it is a genius. But why are we learning this gibberish? I mean, I certainly won’t be speaking it to the clients, would I?"

If Darren was upset by his question, he did not look it. Instead, he leaned back, giving Alex a shrewd look. Alex was suddenly reminded of the way the D.D. would look at you and tried not to squirm.

"Do you speak any foreign languages, Mr. Grant?"

"Several," he answered readily enough. "The company I worked for is a multinational conglomeration and it was incumbent upon its employees to speak at least one other language besides your native tongue. I was in their document translation department." Which was actually no lie. His fluency in several languages made him a valued member of the Agency’s translation team for certain areas of the world.

"Well, then you will appreciate the... mystique, if you will, of speaking a tongue other than your own, especially when you are with those who do not speak a word of it. You will see when you take the class that we are not expecting you to become experts in Sindarin. We do expect you to have a basic understanding of its structure and to be able to speak a few words in a coherent sentence." He gave him a twinkling smile. "Most of the words you’ll learn are simple greetings and such, just to add some verisimilitude to your persona as an Elf."

Alex nodded.

"Well, you’re missing out on the fun of baking gingerbread men, so I’ll let you go." Darren stood and picked up the pile of textbooks and handed them to Alex who stood to receive them. As he took the books, Darren’s fingers seemed to brush against his, sending an unexpected thrill through his body and he was hard-pressed not to flinch. He found he was unable to look away from the man who stared at him with such intensity and he had the most uncomfortable feeling that Darren Harper could see directly into his soul.

"We’re so very glad you were able to make it, Alex," Darren said softly, breaking whatever spell had fallen between them, for Alex found himself blinking as if waking from a dream. "I do not think you will regret coming here."

It was an odd thing to say and Alex could only nod and utter a barely breathed ‘thank-you’ before he exited the office. He took a deep breath to get himself under control and then forced himself to start walking. If he hurried, he could drop the books off in his room on the way to the cafeteria. He would think about what had just happened between Harper and himself later.

5: Alex’s First Day

The cafeteria kitchen was bustling with activity when he finally got there. Alex looked around to see if he could spot Derek, the only person he really knew although Derek had introduced him to a few of the other students the night before while they were having dinner. He smiled when he saw the former sailor, who was taller than most, standing by a counter waving a wooden spoon at him. Making his way between the other counters and dodging people going to and fro, he reached Derek who handed him the spoon.

"Just in time to stir," Derek said with a laugh.

"What are we making?" Alex asked as he took the proffered spoon and began stirring the batter.

"Quick breads," came the answer. "Specifically, pumpkin, date bread and an eggnog holiday bread. I’m not crazy about pumpkin or date bread myself so I opted for the eggnog bread. That sounded interesting."

"I like pumpkin bread," Alex said, "especially the way my mom makes it with raisins and nuts but I don’t care for pumpkin pie."

"Yeah, well, anyway, we’ve been given a bunch of recipes. Here, I got you a copy. We can do anything on this sheet we want but they suggested we start with the breads first as they’ll take the longest to bake. We only have to make one batch of bread if we want to try something else, but we have to do at least two things on this sheet."

Alex stopped stirring long enough to take a quick glance at the recipes. "Hmm.... those brownies sound good. I’ve never had any made from scratch before."

"Brownies it is," Derek said, "and then maybe we can do these nut gems. The dough has to chill. Why don’t I put that together now and by the time the breads and the brownies are done we can work on them?"

"Sounds good to me."

"And the best thing about all this is we get to eat the things we make. Grace said she’ll have all our goodies out tonight for dinner."

"Grace?"

"The kitchen manager and head cook. There she is."

Alex looked to where Derek was pointing and saw a middle-aged woman with streaks of gray in her brown hair moving from one workstation to the next. She made her way to them, giving them a ready smile.

"I see your partner finally made it," she said to Derek.

"I’m Alex Grant." Alex let go of the spoon to shake the woman’s hand.

"And I’m Grace, or if you prefer, Eruanna."

"Excuse me?" Alex asked.

Grace laughed. "Eruanna, it means the same as Grace in Quenya."

Alex gave Derek a puzzled look. "What’s Quenya? Didn’t you say they called the elvish language Sind-something?"

"Sindarin," Grace answered before Derek could reply. "Quenya is the other elvish language. Now which recipes are you boys planning to try?"

For the next couple of minutes, Alex was forced to put aside all the questions that burned within him to answer the cook’s questions. She approved their choices, gave them some tips and moved on to the next group. Once they were alone and putting together the batter for the brownies and the nut gems, Alex gave Derek a puzzled look.

"They came up with two different languages?"

Derek shrugged. "Apparently. Not sure why though. We’re not required to take this Quenya. It’s purely optional and offered only as an evening class once a week and on Saturday mornings. I understand that it’s popular with the townies."

"The townies?"

Derek gave him a grin. "Yeah, you know. The good people of Wiseman. Apparently some of the courses we’re taking are offered to the rest of the community for the fun of it I guess. Haven’t really figured out what the relationship is between the Academy and the rest of the college and community." He shrugged. "So, who gets to lick the brownie spoon?"

Alex grinned. "You can have the spoon while I have the bowl."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "I’ll toss you for the bowl."

Laughingly, Alex fished out a quarter from his pocket. "Call."

****

The cooking class apparently was a success in spite of someone burning an entire batch of mint chocolate chip cookies, much to everyone’s dismay, and the minor grease fire that was quickly put out, much to everyone’s relief. Once they had cleaned up the kitchen to Grace’s exacting standards they were free to seek their lunch, be it at another college dining hall or in town. Grace promised she would have all the goodies set out for the students at dinner.

As they were heading off Derek asked Alex where he wanted to have lunch. "Or maybe you just want to be alone. I’m cool with that."

"No, actually, I like eating with company. I haven’t seen anything of the town. Maybe we can go find something to eat there."

"There’s a place called the Gold Nugget Café and Emporium. I hear the food’s pretty decent."

"The Gold Nugget it is. Let’s clean up a bit and then head out. I didn’t look at the schedule. Are we free this afternoon or do we have a class?"

"Wednesday afternoons are devoted to phys. ed. stuff. We’re supposed to report to the phys. ed. center at two. Actually Monday and Wednesday afternoons are set aside for phys. ed."

Alex scowled as they reached their room. "Why do I get the feeling I’m back in high school?"

Derek laughed. "Hey, it’s not so bad. Mondays we do archery and on Wednesdays we either do fencing or self-defense. In fact, everyone who wants to do fencing has to show some competence in the martial arts. You don’t have to be a black belt or anything, but you do have to demonstrate that you know some self-defense moves."

"I wonder why?"

Derek gave him a jaundiced look. "Hey mate, where have you been living? Mars? Even in the wilds of Alaska you can still get weirdos bent on causing others harm." He paused and gave him a sly look, and when he spoke again it was with a twangy accent. "And if nothing else, if you have to wrastle with a bar, you’re all set."

"Don’t you mean ‘bear’?" Alex asked jokingly.

Derek playfully pretended to slap him upside the head and Alex ducked, giving him a grin. "I mean bar. I’ve been in a few that are downright mean and you need to keep your wits about you, but if you’re so foolish as to want to go one-on-one with a bear, be my guest." He gave him a disdainful sniff and Alex laughed.

"C’mon. I just want to wash up a bit and then we’ll go eat."

"Sounds good to me, mate."

****

"At least we don’t have to wear gis," Derek said some time later as he and Alex joined the rest of the students in the large gym where apparently the self-defense class would be held. Everyone was wearing loose clothes per their instructions and were milling around waiting for the class to begin. "So are you any good with this?"

Before Alex could comment several people walked in and all talking stopped. Alex found himself gawking along with the rest, for they were as beautiful as Darren Harper. There were four men and four women. Two of the men were dark-haired and it was obvious they were twins by their identical features. The third had rich brown hair with reddish highlights but it was the last man who caught Alex’s attention.

"Hello, Ambrose," he whispered to himself.

"What’s that?" Derek asked.

Alex shook his head, not taking his eyes off his quarry. He wondered if Ambrose would recognize him even though he had lightened his brown hair a bit so it was closer to ash blond. He had also shaved off the beard he’d worn since he was twenty. Ambrose had never seen him clean-shaven.

The brown-haired man was speaking and Alex forced himself to listen.

"....split you up into groups. As we call your names you’ll go to that person."

Alex noticed that the other three men had taken up stations in different parts of the gym where mats had been placed on the floor and each was accompanied by one of the women. The man started rattling off names from a list and students began moving to where he was standing. Alex wondered if fate would have him be called by the man he knew as Ambrose Elwood and he had a sudden sick feeling in his gut. It was too soon. He needed time to scope out the situation before confronting his former mentor.

Fate, apparently, agreed, for when the first man stopped rattling off names, one of the twins picked up where the other had left off and he heard his name being called. Giving Derek a lopsided grin he loped over to the other side of the gym to join the students already there. Derek ended up going to the group around the second twin. Once everyone had been called, the instructors introduced themselves to their group.

"I’m Roy and this is Sarah," said the man leading Alex’s group, nodding to the young woman standing beside him. Alex wasn’t the only male there who found himself gawking like a love-struck teenager at the beautiful Sarah who gave them all a knowing smile. Roy gave them an amused look. "My job today is to test you on your knowledge of self-defense. I want everyone who has never done anything like karate or taken a self-defense course to move over to this side of the mat and take a seat on the floor. The rest of you stay where you are."

Almost half the group started moving. Alex and a few others stayed still. When everyone was settled, Roy then asked those still standing to give him their names, directing them to sit opposite to where the others were.

"Right then," Roy said. "When I call for you, you will come onto the mat and either I or Sarah will be your opponent."

Someone raised their hand. "Don’t you want to know what style we’ve learned or if we have a black belt?"

"Not necessary," Roy answered. "In a real-life situation, neither you nor your adversary are going to stop to ask each other what belt level they are at."

Everyone laughed at that. "Okay. Let’s get started. Once you’ve proved to me that you can handle yourself, then you are free to leave. You need to report to room 102 which is down the hall on your left as you leave this gym and you’ll be doing fencing. Because it’ll take a while to get to everyone, there won’t be an actual fencing class but you’ll be given a chance to check out the foils and other equipment so you can be familiar with them."

One of the other students on Alex’s side of the mat raised her hand. "What if you’ve done fencing in college? I don’t think I want to start all over again."

"And you won’t," Sarah said. "Anyone with previous fencing experience will have their own advance class. We just need to sort everyone out first."

"Any other questions?" Roy asked. "All right, then, let’s get started." He motioned to one of the other men to join him on the mat. Apparently Sarah would act as a referee while Roy sparred with the student. Alex watched with genuine interest as Roy suddenly attacked the student who managed to block the move and they went at each other. The match did not last long, though, before Roy had the student on the floor.

"Very good," he said with a smile as he held out his hand to help the young man up. "Off you go. Who’s next?"

Three other students got thrown to the mat before it was Alex’s turn. He had spent the time analyzing Roy’s attacks. Alex himself was a third-degree black belt in one form and a second-degree in another and was competent he could hold his own. The other students so far hadn’t lasted more than a minute or two before either Roy or Sarah (who sparred with one of the women) had their opponent on the mat. When it was Alex’s turn, he stood and gave the traditional bow before the match began. In each of the previous matches it was the instructor who attacked first. Alex decided not to wait but went on the offensive himself. If Roy was surprised, he didn’t show it, but easily blocked Alex’s move and then the fight began in earnest.

Alex was used to employing the different fighting techniques of the two forms, blending them into a technique all his own that usually ended up confusing his opponent and he was relying on this to take Roy down, for he had noticed that the instructor had kept more or less to one style. But as he delivered a roundhouse kick that the other man easily blocked he saw a glimmer of challenge in Roy’s eyes, eyes that seemed to dance in delight, and for some odd reason Alex felt suddenly afraid. Not that he allowed himself to show it. He still attacked and counterattacked with confidence, but something in Roy’s expression unnerved him at a deep visceral level and he did not know why.

Then, in a move that seemed straight out of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, everything seemed to slow down as Roy executed a move that should have been impossible save in the movies, seemingly floating in mid-air before delivering a kick that sent Alex flat on his back. Time speeded up again as he struggled to breathe. Roy was kneeling over him, his hand on Alex’s chest, gently rubbing it.

"Keep breathing, Alex. That’s it. Deep breaths. You’re doing fine."

The pain that had lanced through him from the kick and landing hard on the mat slowly ebbed away and then he was blinking up at Roy who was grinning down at him.

"An interesting display, my young friend. Your instructors taught you well."

Alex couldn’t help turning his head for a second to look to where Ambrose was in the middle of refereeing a match, then turned back to Roy with a nod. "Very good instructors," he managed to gasp out.

Roy gave him a hand up and patted him on the shoulder. "Off you go now," was all he said and then he was turning his attention to the next student waiting and Alex stumbled off the mat and headed towards the door. He stopped and turned around looking for Derek, but the sailor was not there. Just as he started to leave he caught sight of Ambrose who happened to look up, almost as if he knew Alex was staring at him. Their eyes met and Alex was shocked when the man nodded to him — in acknowledgment? In recognition? — he didn’t know, but he quickly looked away and left, his knees feeling shaky all of a sudden. For the second time in a matter of minutes Alex felt fear.

He turned right instead of left, making his way to the men’s locker room where he stood before a sink and splashed some water on his face, trying to get himself under control. When he felt calmer, he left, stopping long enough to take a drink from the water fountain before making his way back to the gyms. He was suddenly not in the mood for fencing or anything else, but he had no choice in the matter. He would have to play this through. He found room 102 and smiled to see Derek there, checking out the equipment.

Derek saw him and gave him a smile. "How long did you last?"

"Longer than I had any right to," Alex said and was surprised to realize that he meant it. "So, what’s the deal here?" he asked, wanting to forget his humiliation and concentrate on what was before him.

"Give Phil your name and let him know if you’ve done fencing before," Derek answered, nodding towards the middle-aged man who was standing nearby with a clipboard.

Alex nodded and went to introduce himself and admitted that he had done fencing back in college. "But that was some time ago and I only took it the one semester. I think I’ll feel more comfortable in the beginner’s class."

Phil nodded. "That’s fine and if you find that you remember more than you thought, it’ll be easy enough to switch you to the other class. For now, find yourself a foil and get suited up. Once we get everyone sorted out, I’ll give a brief lesson to help familiarize everyone with the rules of the sport and let them try out one or two basic moves."

Alex nodded and went to where the other instructor, a woman named Bev Larson, was handing out equipment and soon he was suited up, carrying the mask under one arm while holding the foil in his other hand and stood next to Derek watching as people trickled in. It was another fifteen minutes before the last of the students entered and then while Bev took the ones who admitted to having some experience in fencing to the other side of the room, Phil addressed the larger group of beginners. Surprisingly to Alex, Derek followed Bev’s group, and he felt a twinge of... jealousy? He wasn’t sure. Why should he think he was an expert in everything? He gave himself a mental shake and concentrated on Phil’s lecture.

With the mask on and his back to the door as he faced his opponent and went through the basic moves Phil was teaching, Alex was unaware of the golden-haired man standing at the door watching them.

6: Field Trips and Nature Walks

Thursday was spent visiting one of the resorts and safari companies. Alex had missed the field trip held on Tuesday. Derek told him all about it as they were having dinner Wednesday night.

"They take you to one of the resorts and give you a tour and show you what your responsibilities may be if you’re hired by them and then after lunch, which is catered by the resort, we visit one of the safari companies. Tuesday we were given a demonstration of how traditional igloos are constructed because some of the resorts build them for their customers. They get to sleep outside and experience the full effect of living above the Arctic Circle."

"Sounds like fun."

"You should see the plexiglass ones. Too unreal, but you can look straight up through the roof and see the stars."

"Now that would be something," Alex said and Derek went on to describe other things he’d learned on the trip.

Today it appeared they were going to visit the Rainbow Lake Holiday Resort and the Lightfoot Reindeer Farm. Alex was actually glad for the chance to get away from the college for a while, for he was still feeling unsettled by the events of the previous day. The fencing lesson went well enough but he’d still been feeling a bit shaky from his near encounter with Ambrose. He couldn’t get over the fact that the man hadn’t aged in the fifteen years since his supposed death. He had always appeared young to Alex, until you happened to look into his eyes. Even as a raw recruit barely out of college, Alex had sensed something old about the man that belied his youthful features. Yet, he should not be looking as young as he did now. Not after fifteen years.

Alex couldn’t get his mind around it and the odd thing that Darren Harper had said... it was almost as if he knew who he really was, but that was patently impossible. ‘Alex Grant’ was an airtight persona with a history as ironclad as any. If anyone were to do a background check on one Alex Grant he would have a whole world of information about him, everything from the name of his first-grade teacher to the girl who dumped him for the football star in tenth grade. He made sure of it. The man he knew as Ambrose Elwood had taught him everything he needed to know about creating a believable persona and he learned his lessons well.

Giving himself a mental shake, he concentrated on the here and now. He had no intention of actually becoming a Christmas elf whatever the formidable Maddy said. As far as he was concerned, his job was to find out what Ambrose Elwood was doing alive when he should be safely dead and what was actually going on here at Elf Academy. That someone like Elwood would end up in a place like this made no sense and he was here to find out why. Once that was accomplished, his mission was over and he could go back to D.C. In the meantime, though, he had a role to play and he would play it to the hilt.

So, he paid attention to the spiel given by the welcoming manager of the resort, admired its setting beside the lake and even asked one or two intelligent questions concerning the duties that would be expected of an Elf Guide hired by the resort and the type of clientele to which they catered. After lunch, they made their way to the reindeer farm.

"I wonder if any of them are named Rudolph?" Derek asked irreverently as they were exiting the bus.

Alex gave him a sour grin. "If you start singing that stupid song, I will personally escort you to the gates of Hell and kick you inside."

Derek just laughed as they joined the rest of the group. Alex saw a man with Inuit features coming towards them, followed by a blond-haired woman carrying a toddler. They smiled at the group and the man introduced himself.

"I’m Max Lightfoot, owner of Lightfoot Reindeer Farms. This is my wife, Lucy, and the little tyke is Petey. Today you will be introduced to the reindeer who will be used to pull the sleighs. We will teach you how to team-hitch the reindeer and how to handle the sleigh. Don’t worry if you don’t get it right away. You’ll be coming here again or to one of the other farms to practice. By the time you’re working as a guide you’ll be an old hand at it. Now, if you will follow us, we’ll introduce you to some of our reindeer."

Max and Lucy led the way to the corral where Alex saw a number of reindeer milling about. "They’re not as large as I thought they might be," he said quietly to Derek. "Certainly they’re not as large as horses."

Derek shrugged. "They must be pretty strong though if they can pull a sleigh."

"So is anyone familiar with handling horses?" Max asked.

A couple of people raised their hands, including Derek. And for the second time in as many days, Alex felt surprise. He was tempted to raise his hand as well, for he was quite familiar with horses, having learned to ride during an assignment in Saudi Arabia, but he decided to play dumb in this case, wishing to see how things went. Max was instructing those who had raised their hands about how to put the halters on the reindeer and then once they had a number of them haltered, the rest of the class took turns practicing putting the halters on and taking them off.

Alex found himself in front of a reindeer whose name apparently was Gandalf. He knew next to nothing about Icelandic or Scandinavian mythology and the name meant nothing to him. He took the halter and slipped it over the reindeer’s head and quickly cinched it, gave the animal a pat and then took the halter off, handing it to the next student in line.

Once they all had a turn, Max and Lucy, with the help of a couple of the students, brought the reindeer into a large arena covered with artificial snow where everyone spent the next couple of hours learning how to hitch the reindeer to the sleigh and then drive it. Alex wasn’t too happy about that part of the lesson. He couldn’t seem to get the reindeer to go in the direction he desired. Instead, they would go so far and then stop. He glanced around to see if he was the only one having trouble and watched in dismay as Derek and a girl named Michelle appeared to be racing one another’s sleigh around the arena, whooping and hollering and obviously enjoying themselves. He tried not to feel jealous, but his ego was taking a bruising and it was embarrassing.

"Need a hand?"

Alex tore his gaze away from the racers and looked down to see Max staring up at him.

"They don’t seem to like me," he said with a sour look.

Max smiled as he climbed next to Alex on the driver’s bench. "Reindeer are like horses," he said as he took the reins. "You have to show them who’s boss at all times." He flicked the reins, making a snicking sound and they were on their way. "Have you ever been on a horse?" he asked.

"Once or twice," Alex replied, "but I can’t say I’m an expert rider."

Max nodded. "Well, there are similarities but it’s the differences that can make or break you. The trick is to hold the reins just so. It’s not quite like when you are on a horse." He showed Alex how he was holding the reins and then continued showing him the way to change direction, slow down and speed up. Then he had Alex try. At first, it was awkward but eventually he became more comfortable with it and while he was not in the mood to race, he felt more confident about handling a sleigh than when he first started.

"I think I can almost get to like it," he admitted to Max as they were unhitching the team.

Max smiled. "You’ll do well enough."

Later, as they were on the bus back to Wiseman, Derek asked him how he was doing. "I saw you were having a bit of trouble for a while. Did Max help you out?"

"Yes. I noticed you were racing with Michelle. Did she let you win?"

"Hey! I’ll have you know I let her win."

Alex couldn’t help smiling. "You sure took to it like a duck to water. How does a city boy know how to handle a sleigh?"

"My dad’s parents live on a farm in Oregon. I used to spend a couple of weeks there during the winter and Gramps has a horse-drawn sleigh to haul wood and such. I learned to handle the sleigh just fine."

Alex nodded but did not comment, occupying the time back to Wiseman staring out the bus window watching the scenery go by. Derek wisely remained silent. Alex tried to analyze what he was feeling. Jealousy? Why would he feel jealous? Did he think he was the only person on earth with skills that might not be considered normal? He was an intelligence officer, a government agent, not Superman. He had had many assignments where those around him were more knowledgeable about things than he. So why did he feel he was in competition with Derek? His roommate was a personable young man who spent six years in the Navy, garnering experiences no less valid than Alex’s own experiences as an agent. It made no sense, and so he thrust the thoughts away and forced himself to think about Ambrose Elwood or Ryan McKinley as he was calling himself these days. He needed to concentrate on the mission and forget about anything else.

Unfortunately, he had no clue as to what he should be doing. What did Maddy expect from him anyway? A direct confrontation with his former mentor would not be appropriate at this time and how was he supposed to learn what was really going on at the Academy when so far it appeared completely legit and there was no feeling of wrongness. Weirdness, maybe, like learning a made-up language and having to choose a supposedly elvish name, but that was obviously part of the whole elf guide thing. He wished he’d been here from the beginning. He thought that he might have a better handle on things had he been here for orientation. It was just miserable bad luck that found him stranded in Fairbanks for three days until the car could be fixed.

His thoughts were interrupted with their arrival at the Academy. As they were leaving the bus, Derek gave him a troubled look."Did I do something wrong? I think you’re mad at me but I don’t know why."

Alex felt himself reddening with chagrin. "No, you’ve done nothing wrong and no, I’m not mad at you. Sorry if I gave you that impression. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately."

"Okay. I just didn’t want our friendship going sour before it even got started."

Alex smiled. "I don’t think you need worry about that. I am and always will be your friend."

Derek raised an eyebrow at the quote. "Thank you, Mr. Spock."

Alex laughed and then, deciding to change the subject, gave the young man a sly look. "So, if you let the fair Michelle win the race, does that mean you’re sweet on her?"

Derek’s answer was rude and to the point but then they were both laughing and the earlier tension between them faded away.

****

Friday there were two classes in the morning. One was a class called ‘Dealing with Children of All Ages’, taught by Deirdre Clannach, a vivacious redhead with sparkling green eyes. Alex found the class amusing as he joined the other students in learning some simple holiday songs and games that could be used to keep the little ones entertained during their tour. He left the class in a good frame of mind. He wasn’t musically inclined and was glad to see that he wasn’t the only one, but Deirdre had assured them that those who could not sing could sign up for pennywhistle lessons. He and Derek both signed up for the lessons which were scheduled for Tuesday evenings after dinner.

The second class was the language class. While all the other classes, with the exception of the cooking class, met for ninety minutes once a week, the ‘How to Speak Elvish’ class met twice a week and Derek assured him that it was the one class that was held throughout the term. For that reason, there were several classes being held simultaneously. Derek told Alex that their teacher was someone named Gil.

Alex simply nodded, but silently he was calling to his mind what little information he had on one Gil Winters: last known address somewhere in Tennessee, worked in construction building log homes, now living in Alaska, apparently as a language teacher teaching a language that did not exist. That alone made no sense. What qualifications would a construction worker have to teach languages, unless he was a native speaker, and since this Sindarin was obviously an invented language, he couldn’t possibly be a native speaker.

That supposition, sound as it was from Alex’s point of view, was seriously questioned when Gil Winters walked into the classroom. He was tall and willowy, his brown hair long, his eyes a curious green-grey. When he spoke his voice was soft and musical.

"Mae govannen a haur vaer," he said to the class. "Sír parithal o phrestennith e-lemthîw. Heriathanc na phrestennith vae." He paused, giving them an amused smile. Alex just sat there blinking, his mouth hanging open. "Of course, I don’t expect you to know what I just said," Gil continued in English. "Eventually, though, you will. For the moment, we will look at a peculiarity of Sindarin which is shared with some other languages, for example, Welsh, where consonants change before articles and prepositions, or as the second element of compound words. Today we are going to concentrate solely on lenition or soft mutations. If you turn to page four of your workbook you will see a chart with all the different mutations. The first column is the unmutated consonant and the second column shows how they are lenited. These mutations must be memorized. Lenition is caused primarily by the definite article ‘i’ as you can see on the chart...."

By the time the class ended, Alex’s head was whirling and he was glad to see that others in the class also had bemused expressions on their faces as they shuffled out the door. One or two could be heard muttering a litany of consonants — "Bee to vee, bee-el to vee-el, bee-ar to vee-ar, cee to gee...." — as they made their way down the hall. Alex held back, wishing to speak with Gil Winters. Derek lingered by the door. Winters was erasing the whiteboard.

"And what can I do for you, Mr. Grant?" he said without stopping what he was doing or even looking at Alex.

Alex blinked, wondering how the man knew who he was. He did not speak immediately but waited for Winters to finish cleaning the board. The man gave him an amused look. "Did you have something to say, Mr. Grant?"

"How do you do it?"

Gil tilted his head slightly to his left as if contemplating the question. "I’m not sure I understand what...."

"How do you rattle off this nonsense so easily and make it sound like it’s for real?" Alex asked accusingly. "You never once stuttered or stumbled over a word or anything. It’s as if you actually knew this language but that’s not possible. It doesn’t exist. It’s made up."

For a long moment, Gil did not reply. Alex could sense Derek fidgeting but ignored him for the moment, concentrating solely on Winters, who did not appear upset or angered by his outburst. "Is it made up?" he finally asked in a mild tone. "Well, that’s news to me." He paused and his expression became somewhat cooler. "Good day, Mr. Grant. Have a nice weekend."

It was a dismissal and Alex sensed he would get nothing more out of the man. He nodded and turned to leave, then stopped. "How did you know my name?"

Winters merely shrugged. "When I came in I saw that I had one student more than I had on Monday and as you were the only one missing from class that day, it was easy enough to guess who you were. And now, if you are finished with your interrogation, I have other duties to attend to and you and your friend are missing lunch."

"C’mon, Alex," Derek pleaded then and after a moment’s hesitation, Alex nodded again to Winters and followed his roommate out, feeling both embarrassed and frustrated. He hadn’t expected the man to come out and admit that he was making everything up on the fly. A cursory glance at the workbook they were using for the class told him that whoever had designed the language had taken great care to make it look and sound plausible. He just couldn’t figure it. Maybe if it had been something like Esperanto, he could have accepted it, but not this, not this supposed language of the elves.

"What’s with you?" Derek demanded as they reached their room to drop off their books before heading for the cafeteria. "You applied to this Academy. You wouldn’t have done so if you didn’t like what you saw about it. Yet, you’re acting, I don’t know, angry or insulted or something."

"It doesn’t strike you as odd that we’re learning a language that doesn’t exist and that we will never use?"

"Oh, I don’t know. I can see greeting clients with a phrase or two just for the sake of adding to the mystique."

"And if they wanted to do just that, they would have simply given us some phrases, told us they mean 'Hello' or whatever and have us memorize them, but we’re actually learning about mutations and verb tenses and the whole lot. Why? We’re tour guides or we will be, so what gives with this Sindarin?"

Derek shrugged. "I can’t help you mate. All I can say is that I’m actually enjoying it. It’s a challenge and I love challenges. Invented or not, it’s a beautiful language and I don’t mind learning it if that’s what it takes to be an Elf Guide. It beats pushing a broom or bagging groceries, which is what I was doing before coming here. Now, I’m for lunch. We still have that nature walk this afternoon and I want to do it on a full stomach. You in or out, mate?"

Alex forced himself to calmness and simply nodded, deciding to let it go. As Derek so rightly pointed out, he was here because he wanted to be here. That, of course, was the rub. He did not apply to be an Elf Guide. He was simply given the assignment. ‘Alex Grant’ applied, and while he could be Alex Grant, it was Artemus Gordon Meriwether who was looking for answers. If he allowed himself to be totally Alex Grant, he could easily endanger the mission. He’d heard of agents under deep cover becoming their alter persona to such an extent that they began to sympathize with those around them, forgetting and forsaking the original mission, and essentially defecting to the other side. It was rare, but it happened and one thing Ambrose had taught him was never to go so deep as to forget who you truly were.

But then the converse was equally true, he realized with some chagrin. He should never let his true feelings interfere with the mission and he was in danger of doing that here and now.

"Sorry," he finally said. "You’re right. I’m not sure what I’m feeling about all this right now. Maybe my expectations don’t match up with reality and I...." He gave Derek a helpless shrug.

"Hey! It’s okay," Derek said in a conciliatory voice. "Let’s go get lunch and forget about it."

"Sounds good."

****

The nature walk was conducted at the Mount Horace Holiday Resort. The students were accompanied by a number of the Academy staff who handed out maps showing the trails. Alex and Derek poured over their copy trying to decide which trail to take, having been assured that all trails were accessible.

"Hmm... Snowflake trail, Aurora Borealis trail, Snow Queen trail... Hey! what about this one? Winterdark Tarn.... Sounds like a title of a Stephen King novel." Derek gave Alex a wicked grin.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge I hear?"

Derek shrugged. "Not really, but it does sound a bit intriguing, don’t you think? And from the looks of it, it goes further into the mountains. These other trails stay pretty close to home."

"Fine. We’ll take that trail. It’s all one to me. Besides, I’m not sure I’m ready for a trail named ‘Snowflake’." He gave his friend a suggestive look and Derek laughed.

Surprisingly, a number of students had decided to take the Winterdark Tarn trail. Accompanying them was a golden-haired man whom Derek identified to Alex as the head of the Academy, speaking in a whisper as they waited to board the funicular that would take them to the head of the trail. "That’s Loren DelaFiore, but he also goes by the name of Glorfindel."

"Glor-what?"

"Glorfindel."

Alex and Derek looked up guiltily to see the object of their discussion giving them an amused look. It had been he who had spoken. "Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower." The man gave them a short yet dignified bow.

"Ah... um... Alex Grant, lord of nothing in particular," Alex replied, feeling rather stupid for some reason.

"Ah... Darren told me you had finally arrived. Settling in all right?"

"Yeah,.. I mean... fine... er... sir." He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so tongue-tied. Loren DelaFiore had that same aura of exotic beauty that Darren Harper and Gil Winters and the others exuded, some indefinable essence that seemed to set them apart from the rest of the people at the Academy.

"Good," Glorfindel said with a satisfied nod. He turned to Derek. "You must be Mr. Grant's roommate?"

"Yes, sir. Derek Lowell."

"Ah... looks as if it’s our turn. You two are going on the Winterdark Tarn trail?"

Both Alex and Derek nodded. Glorfindel gestured for them to climb into their seats and then followed them so he was seated next to Alex. For some inexplicable reason Alex felt suddenly trapped and had to force himself not to climb over DelaFiore to escape.

"It’s an interesting trail," he heard the man say even as he attempted to calm himself. "Many people come away... changed."

Alex wasn’t sure what to make of that statement, but had no time to comment as they were now at the top and he and the others got out. Glorfindel pointed to the left. "That’s our trail there." Then he raised his voice. "Alright people, listen up. Anyone going on the Winterdark Tarn trail find a partner. This trail is a bit tricky in parts and I want each of you to help your partner if needed. Everyone set? Right then, I’ll lead the way. Take your time and enjoy the scenery. We’ll be back in plenty of time to catch the buses back to Wiseman."

With that, they set off. Alex and Derek joined the other students so that they comprised a group of about a dozen or so. He noticed that DelaFiore was the only one who did not have a partner. Alex maneuvered himself in the group so he could easily keep an eye on the man and spent more time watching him than the scenery. He wasn’t sure but once they were walking under the shadows of the pine trees away from direct sunlight Loren DelaFiore seemed to glow with a light of his own. Alex was sure that was just his imagination. He did notice though how smoothly the man walked along the trail where others, even himself, had to struggle around obstacles. Once, he could’ve sworn a tree branch moved out of the man’s way but that was patently impossible and when he reached the same spot the tree branch certainly didn’t move for him so he put it down to a trick of the light. Derek called his attention to a particular scene which some had stopped to admire and Alex’s concentration was broken. By the time they set off again, DelaFiore was further ahead and now Alex and Derek were more towards the back of the group.

Alex thought to push himself further up the line but then decided it wasn’t worth it. DelaFiore wasn’t going to disappear and once they reached the tarn he would have the opportunity to get closer to him again. Something about the man unnerved him even more than Harper or Winters had. So, it took a few more minutes for the beauty of his surroundings to impinge upon his soul and he stopped thinking of the golden-haired man who called himself Glorfindel and allowed himself to relax and enjoy the walk. He and Derek ended up helping some of the women to climb over a fallen tree and then up a jumble of rocks and boulders, quietly conversing with them as they walked. Then they rounded a spur of the mountain and saw the tarn.

Alex slowed to a halt, allowing Derek and the others to move ahead. Sometime during their walk clouds had built up and were now blocking the sun. A wind rose, forcing many to huddle further into their coats, some muttering crossly to themselves for not bringing hats and gloves as had been advised. In spite of the wind, though, he noticed that the surface of the tarn remained smooth.

The dark, still waters reflected nothing, giving the tarn and its setting an ominous feel. Alex suddenly felt... threatened and wondered why. It was just a mountain lake after all. Yet he couldn’t get the image of the Creature from the Black Lagoon rising out of the waters from his mind. He tore his eyes from the tarn to look about him. DelaFiore was standing near the shore staring into the waters in deep contemplation. He was the only one who didn’t seem affected by the sudden change in the weather, for he wore nothing more than a light parka. Other students clustered in groups of three or four, some of them whispering, looking upset or nervous as they huddled against the wind, while still others were busy looking for flat rocks to skip across the tarn’s surface. He noticed Derek was one of them and a feeling of panic or terror rose within him as he watched his roommate pull back his arm to throw his rock and without thought he raced to him, grabbing the stone out of his hand.

"No!" he nearly shouted, startling more than one person. Derek looked more surprised than angry.

"Hey, mate, what’s with you?"

"Don’t," Alex said pleadingly, dropping the stone. "Don’t disturb...."

"Alex."

He turned to find himself gazing into blue-grey eyes that seemed as fathomless as the tarn behind him and he had the feeling that he could fall into them forever. Glorfindel held his gaze for a long moment, his expression one of concern, then he reached out and took him by the elbow, gently leading him away. "It’s alright, Alex. Why don’t you come with me and let your friend enjoy his game."

"But...."

"Shhh.... There’s nothing to fear," Glorfindel said. "Derek is safe. I promise you."

And somehow those words were like a blanket, covering his terror, subduing it, and he let himself be drawn away, now feeling embarrassed. "I don’t know what came over me," he started explaining. "All I could think of was they shouldn’t disturb the waters. Why would I think that?"

He gave Glorfindel a pleading look even as they moved away from the rest of the group to the other side of the tarn where the trail continued. Glorfindel gave him a considering look. "Perhaps it’s because you are right. The waters shouldn’t be disturbed."

"Yet you don’t tell them to stop skipping stones," Alex retorted.

Glorfindel gave him an elegant shrug. "I’m not their minder. I’m here to see what effect the tarn has on those who come here."

Even as he was speaking, several students came over to them, their expressions troubled. "Mr. DelaFiore, is it alright if we go on?" one of them asked. "This place is getting creepy."

Glorfindel gave them all a considering look, then nodded. "Yes, by all means, my children. Continue on. I’ll give the others another five minutes before we follow. Alex, perhaps you would like to go with them?"

"No. I’ll stay."

There was a flash of approval in the man’s eyes that warmed Alex and he did not know why he felt that he needed the man’s approval for anything. The other students gave them relieved looks and then they were heading down the trail, leaving him and Glorfindel alone. Neither spoke and Alex was disinclined to move about, standing tense and uncertain. He found he could not look at the tarn without shuddering so he concentrated on the mountains rising behind it. After a few minutes, Glorfindel called out for the other students that it was time to leave. Alex gave a sigh of relief and without waiting for Derek or anyone else, turned away from the tarn and headed for the trail.

Derek finally caught up with him. "Hey, you okay, mate?"

Alex nodded. "Sorry about that. I’m not sure what happened. That place just freaked me out for some reason."

Derek shrugged. "Seemed okay to me."

Alex glanced back to where DelaFiore was walking among some of the other students, quietly talking. The man caught his eye and nodded. Alex looked away and concentrated on the path, wishing he’d never taken this trail. "I should’ve taken the Snowflake trail instead," he muttered to himself.

"You say something?" Derek asked.

Alex just shook his head.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Mae govannen a haur vaer: ‘Well met and good morning.’

Sír parithal o phrestennith e-lemthîw. Heriathanc na phrestennith vae: ‘Today you will learn about mutations of consonants. We (inclusive) will begin with soft mutations.’

7: History Lessons

Alex still felt unsettled even after dinner that night and decided he wasn’t in the mood for a movie. So he left Derek happily watching Jim Carey playing being God and went outside, hoping a walk would help calm him. The sky was dark with clouds that threatened rain or even snow in spite of the fact that it was still early August. He huddled into his fleece-lined coat and made his way along the walk that wended its way through the campus. He really hadn’t seen all that much of the rest of the college and took some time to scope it out, mentally cataloguing where all the other buildings were, where the various entrances into the campus were located and other little details that might be of use to him. It was an automatic thing for him, a part of the situational awareness that kept an agent alive.

He came upon a small forested area bordering the campus at one end and without analyzing his feelings allowed himself to be drawn into it, breathing the heavy scent of resin. Almost at once he felt all the tension within him seeping away, leaving him feeling lightheaded for a moment. Muscles he didn’t even know were tight began to relax and he found himself being able to take in deep breaths. Standing under a towering pine, he leaned against its trunk, closing his eyes and feeling the roughness of the bark under his palms.

How long he stood there, letting the quiet of the woods calm him, he did not know or care, but eventually he came back to himself, gave the tree a pat and moved away, deciding he’d had enough of nature for a while and went back towards the Academy, figuring he would visit the small reading room and see if there was a book to read until he was ready for bed.

He never knew that another had been in the woods silently keeping watch.

****

The weekend was spent in leisure except for working on the Sindarin assignment Winters had given them. Alex and Derek spent part of Saturday morning quizzing each other on the mutations and going over the simple greetings and introductions which had been part of the lesson as well.

"My govan...." Alex started to say, making the word rhyme with ‘fan’.

"No," Derek corrected, "it’s ‘vahn’, like in Ralph Vaughan Williams."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

Derek gave him a disbelieving look. "Ralph Vaughan Williams," he repeated, pronouncing the first name as ‘rafe’. "English dude wrote classical music. ‘The Lark Ascending’, ‘Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis’, ‘Sifonia antarctica’. Hello!"

Alex grinned at the affronted look on his friend’s face. "Sorry. I’m more into Country Rock myself."

Derek gave a disdainful sniff. "Figures. Your education is sadly lacking, boy."

"Whatever. So, ‘my govahnnen, melin neen’."

"Meluhn," Derek corrected. "Sort of like the end sound in ‘honey’ only shorter."

"Boy, you’re really into this, aren’t you?" Alex said with a snort. "As if any of our clients are going to know the difference."

Derek just shrugged. "I just think we should be as authentic as possible and that means getting the pronunciation down correctly."

"Fine. Let me try it again," Alex replied with a sigh, ignoring the smirk on Derek’s face as he applied himself more diligently to speaking correctly a language that didn’t exist.

****

After lunch, Alex and Derek joined several of the other students from the Academy for a game of touch football. When it started to rain, some of the students decided they had had enough but others, including Alex and Derek, stayed on, so by the time they were done playing, everyone was caked in mud but no one seemed to mind. Hot showers followed and when they went to dinner, many of them sat together. Alex and Derek joined them and the rest of the evening was spent in congenial company. As he sat there listening to the conversation around him, Alex felt something within him open up, some emotion that he wasn’t sure he could put a name to, something that made him feel warm and... accepted.

Yes, that was the word. Accepted. He was accepted by these others as one of them. They knew nothing about Artemus Gordon Meriwether, spy — excuse me, intelligence officer — someone who’d infiltrated any number of terrorist cells over the years or had spent hours pouring over the intelligence gathered by other agents to determine possible threats to the security of the nation and the world. They only knew of Alex Grant, one-time employee of a multinational company, now studying to be a Christmas elf, just as they were. These people’s lives were uncomplicated and straightforward compared to his own. Most of them were a good decade younger than he, though a number, like Derek, were older. Yet, their lives were not darkened by secrets, secrets that could bring a nation down, secrets that could bring the world to the brink of war and beyond.

For the first time in his career as an intelligence officer, Alex actually envied those who did not live in the shadowy world of espionage. He felt a sudden revulsion within him which he ruthlessly pushed away. He had a mission to see through whether he liked it or not and that was all that mattered. Yet, listening to the laughter and gentle teasing and lighthearted conversation going on around him, he couldn’t help feeling regret that he had never had that kind of life. He’d joined the Agency right out of college and knew nothing else. Now, though....

Giving himself a mental shake, he pushed aside his dark musings and allowed himself to be drawn back into the light and laughter of these young men and women, agreeing to join them in going into town to check out one or two of the bars. For the next several hours, Artemus Gordon Meriwether ceased to exist and it was only Alex Grant who enjoyed the beer and the games of pool. It was only Alex Grant who stumbled back to the college with the others, singing loudly and off-key, then shushing each other and giggling like teenagers before playing a very drunken game of tag among the trees and buildings of the campus. And it was only Alex Grant who fell into bed, full of alcoholic bliss, his sleep deep and dreamless.

****

Sunday was spent recovering from the night before. Alex was disinclined to do much of anything save drink lots of coffee. He went over the Sindarin mutations with Derek one more time and then spent the rest of the morning quietly reading. By mid-afternoon, though, he was feeling restless and decided to walk into town. Derek had gone off with some of the other students earlier, leaving him to himself. He had no particular destination in mind, merely a wish to stretch his legs and get some fresh air. Wiseman was just large enough that he had not seen all of it, nor did he expect to.

He vaguely wondered where the other agents the D.D. said she would send were and how they might contact him, for all he had were a set of email addresses and the understanding that they were to be used only as a last resort, otherwise he would be contacted by at least one of the agents in place at some point. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of other agents mucking about in his territory. This was his assignment, after all, and he was quite capable of performing it without the aid of others. He realized, though, that Maddy was just being cautious. Ambrose Elwood dead was just a sadly missed agent; Ambrose Elwood alive was a rogue and therefore considered dangerous until proven otherwise. One did not take any chances with a rogue agent... or a potential one.

Meandering through the streets of Wiseman and not paying particular attention to where he was going, Alex stopped in surprise when he found himself before an imposing residence on the outskirts of the town. It wasn’t quite a mansion, but it came pretty close. He stood for a few moments admiring the house and the gardens surrounding it, then slipped behind a nearby tree fronting the street when the door opened and he saw Elwood stepping out with a young woman whom he only recognized from a photo but whose name was unknown to him.

He watched as the two stood at the door in deep conversation and then they were embracing and Elwood began kissing her with an intimacy that told Alex that these two were lovers. He raised an eyebrow at the implication of that little fact as he watched the couple separate and Elwood headed towards the street. Alex had just enough time to move further away from the house to prevent the man from seeing him and then watched as he turned right and headed into town. The woman went back inside the house.

He allowed Elwood to get some distance ahead of him before following. He was curious as to where his former mentor was going. He was even more curious about the house and its inhabitants, wondering how an ex-spy could live in such a place. Or maybe he didn’t. Perhaps the house belonged to the woman. He reached the corner and turned to see Elwood a good two blocks away, apparently heading downtown. There was little traffic on a Sunday afternoon and only one lone teenager skateboarding towards him. As the boy neared him Alex waved and smiled. The boy slowed down, giving him a wary look.

"Excuse me," Alex said, adopting a British accent. He’d learned early on that most Americans were rather impressed by people with British accents and were more likely to respond favorably towards them. "I’m new in town and I think I’ve gotten turned around. If I continue on will I get to the town center?"

"Yes, just go down to Kodiak and hang a left," the teenager answered and started to skate past Alex.

"I was admiring this house here," Alex said, pointing to the mansion. "Can you tell me who lives there?"

The boy shrugged. "That’s Edhellond."

"Excuse me, eth-what?"

"Edhellond," the boy corrected. "Where the Elves live." With that he pushed himself off and was rolling down the street before Alex had time to muster a reply.

"Elves?" Alex couldn’t help repeating in disbelief, staring after the boy who was now a good distance away, wishing he could run after him and get him to explain. He snorted in derision at that image and turned to see if Elwood was still in sight.

No such luck and he wasn’t about to try to find him. He shrugged and turned back towards the college, giving the mansion a final look-over.

"Elves," he muttered in disbelief. "Give me a break."

****

On Monday, Alex endured the Sindarin class, dutifully filling out the table that Winters had created as a quiz on how well they had memorized the soft mutations. He prided himself on his retentive skills, always vital in the field when one wasn’t in the position of being able to write anything down. Then they spent the rest of the time practicing greetings and introductions on each other. Some were better than others and there was a lot of embarrassed giggling. Winters was patience personified as he gently corrected pronunciations. The class ended with them working on present tense verbs, writing out simple sentences based on the vocabulary that they knew.

Alex was reminded of his own experiences in school learning French and Latin and as he worked on the exercise he caught himself humming softly and stopped in dismay, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. He happened to catch Winters’ eyes and saw the man smile, his eyes full of amusement and ducked his head, concentrating on the workbook before him. He never hummed like that unless he was working on a translation problem. It was a little quirk of his, a sign of his contentment, for he loved languages and loved to play with them. He had once considered going on to graduate school and studying linguistics, but fate had taken him down another, darker road.

He scowled at that thought, then pushed it away, concentrating on the exercise. When the class was over he gave a sigh of relief and without a backward glance, left the classroom as quickly as he could. Derek caught up with him at the lounge where coffee, tea, soda and light snacks could be had while students waited for the next class to begin. His friend gave him a concerned look as they stood in line to give their order to the attendant.

"You okay, mate?" he asked. "You look a bit... flustered."

"Flustered?" Alex couldn’t help repeating with a laugh. "Where did you come up with that word? I’m fine. I was just.... well...."

Derek waved a hand in dismissal. "No problem, Alex. It’s not my business, but if you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen."

"And I appreciate it," Alex said sincerely. "There’s nothing to talk about. It was just a memory of something a long time ago. Not important. I was just taken by surprise by it, is all."

Derek nodded. "It happens. Well, one more class and then we do archery. I’m looking forward to that. Always wanted to play Robin Hood but I was usually pegged as the Sheriff." He gave Alex a wry look. Alex laughed as he stepped forward to give his order.

****

"Elf History," Alex muttered as he and Derek entered the classroom and took their seats. "What exactly are we learning here, anyway?"

"Didn’t you read the assignment I told you about?" Derek asked.

Alex shrugged. In truth, he hadn’t bothered, or rather, he had started to but couldn’t get past the first page with its talk of Valar and Maiar singing creation into existence. That was a bit too weird and what were Valar and Maiar when they were at home, anyway? He had decided to wait to see how the class went before getting too involved. He was here in pretense and wasn’t about to get sucked into all this elf nonsense. He planned to stay just long enough to find out what Elwood was up to, report his findings to the D.D. and then leave for the next assignment or maybe take a few days off to visit his mom for Christmas. He tried to remember the last time he’d spent Christmas with her but couldn’t. Last year he’d been somewhere in the boonies of Minnesota tracking down a group of yahoos looking to bring down the government. As he recalled, Christmas had been spent in a rundown motel in the middle of nowhere, celebrating the day with a cheap bottle of scotch and day-old pizza.

Grimacing slightly at that particular memory, he realized with a start that he’d been rubbing his shoulder where he’d been shot during that particular mission two days after Christmas. Derek must have noticed for he leaned over and whispered, "You okay, Alex. You look a bit white."

"No. I’m fine, thanks. Its an old injury from a car accident. Sometimes there’s still a twinge of pain. Weather must be turning or something."

"I hear you, mate," Derek said. "I did a number on myself once when...." but whatever he was going to say remained unsaid as the door opened and the teacher walked in. Alex forced himself not to react to the sight of the young woman whom he’d seen with Ambrose the day before. Her ethereal beauty affected him more now that he was in close proximity to her. She swept her gaze around the room, giving them a smile, greeting them with an ‘aur vaer’ to which the class dutifully responded in kind. Alex couldn’t help noticing how musical her voice sounded and realized it had the same lilt that he had heard in the voices of Gil Winters and Loren DelaFiore; the same lilt that he remembered Ambrose as having.

Alex was taken aback when the woman came directly to him, putting out her hand. "You must be Alex. I’m Della White or, if you prefer, Nimrodel."

Alex took her hand and shook it. "Er... thanks... I’ll... um... keep that in mind."

Della nodded and went back to the front of the class, addressing them all.

"Can anyone give me an outline of the Elves’ creation myth?" As she spoke she wrote the word ‘Ainulindalë’ on the board.

There was a moment of silence before one of the women raised her hand and began to give a hesitant account with Della writing out her responses. Some others chimed in with corrections and additions until it was all laid out to everyone’s satisfaction.

Alex did not bother to participate in the discussion. Instead, he let his mind wander as he stared out one of the windows. None of this made sense to him. A made up language and a made up history just to add verisimilitude to their personae as elf guides? What was the deal here? And Ambrose Elwood was a part of it. Why? What reason would he have to be here, apparently going along with the charade?

"Alex, what do you think?"

Alex started at the sound of his name, giving everyone an embarrassed look. "I’m sorry, would you repeat the question?" He felt himself reddening even more at the sound of the women tittering and Derek giving him a sour look. It didn’t help matters that Della’s expression was one of amusement and he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. God! He hadn’t felt like this since he’d been in grade school stumbling over a math problem.

"I asked if you see any similarities between this myth and any other creation myths that you know."

"Oh... um.... I... I guess the fact that there’s one god. That’s similar to the Judeo-Christian and Muslim creation myths. Most others have multiple gods."

"Very good. And what differences do you notice between this myth and, let us say, the Genesis myth? We’ll deal with other myths later."

Now Alex quickly scanned the board, desperately trying to pick out some aspect of this myth that didn’t gel with what he remembered of the Genesis story. It’d been a long time since he’d been in a Sunday school class. "Ah... well... there’s a lot of singing," he offered. "I don’t think singing is mentioned in Genesis."

Most of the class chuckled at that, and Della raised an eyebrow. "Anything else?"

Alex swallowed nervously. Why was she picking on him? And why did he suddenly feel as if he were ten years old and it was old Mrs. Hopper, his fifth grade teacher, standing before him, quizzing him? He shook his head and muttered "Sorry," not looking up, wishing he could just get up and walk out and never look back.

For a long moment Della just stood there staring at him and then, to his immense relief, she looked away and gave the question to the class. Derek raised his hand and began giving a litany of differences between the two myths with others adding their own observations. Alex merely sat there in stony silence refusing to enter into the discussion that followed about the names and characteristics attributed to these Valar and Maiar who apparently, as far as Alex could figure out, were angels of some sort.

But when the discussion moved on to some dude named Melkor who apparently was supposed to be like Lucifer, he couldn’t stop himself from raising his hand. Della acknowledged him. "Why are we learning this?" he demanded. "What possible use is this... this fake history to us as tour guides?"

"All people have a history, Alex, including Elves," Della answered.

"Who don’t exist except in fairy tales," Alex countered with a sneer.

For a long moment Della did not respond. The rest of the class remained silent, watching the confrontation. Alex vaguely noticed Derek and a couple of others giving him angry looks, but ignored them, keeping his eyes on Della.

"Your hostility is rather odd considering you applied to come here," she finally said.

"I didn’t...." Alex stopped himself just in time, appalled at his near gaffe. Fifteen years of training had nearly gone out the window without a moment’s thought. What was happening to him? He’d never been this out of control before, certainly not when in the field. He was one of the Agency’s top operatives, noted for his coolness under fire, his quick thinking and his ability to be convincing to those who did not know they were inviting the snake into their little garden of sedition and terrorism. But within a few days of coming here, he found himself making mistakes that even a newly minted operative would never make, never mind an expert such as himself.

He swallowed, taking a deep breath. Della had raised an eyebrow when he started to deny he’d applied to the Academy and he thought he’d caught a look of triumph or expectation on her face, but it was there and gone in an instant and the woman merely gave him a cool stare.

"Perhaps you need to rethink why you are here, Alex Grant," she said in a voice that sent shivers down Alex’s spine. The words had been softly spoken but there was something almost threatening about them or... almost as if she knew the truth and was allowing him the opportunity to make a choice. He couldn’t deal with that thought right then and pushed it away. Instead, he nodded, closed his textbook, shoved it into his book bag and stood up.

"Perhaps I should," he said quietly and then without apology left the room, striding down the hall, his pace quickening almost to a run and then, in a fit of something that felt almost like despair, he gave a wordless yell, flung the book bag away and ran to the nearest exit, flinging open the doors, the need to get away, far away, from this place driving him.

He never knew that more than one pair of eyes watched him run away or that another followed him, easily keeping pace with him without allowing himself to be noticed. He never saw Loren DelaFiore retrieving his book bag, or heard Della give a distressed Derek a comforting word after she had dismissed the class.

And he never heard the conversation that followed between Loren, Darren, Della and the one he knew as Ambrose Elwood when the four of them met in Loren’s office, a conversation that would have shocked and confused him even more than he already was....

"James Bond he’s not," Glorfindel said with a grin as he took his seat. The others snorted in amusement.

Nimrodel and Amroth sat in the other two chairs holding hands while Daeron leaned against a bookcase, his ankles and arms crossed in a nonchalant pose.

"He’s forgotten everything I ever taught him," Amroth said with a shake of his head, but his eyes glittered more with amusement than with disgust.

"What do you think he will do?" Nimrodel asked her husband.

Amroth shrugged. "Once he calms down, I suspect he’ll be shooting off an email to the fair Maddy and demanding reassignment."

"Will she grant his request?" Daeron asked.

Amroth shook his head. "If I know Maddy Washburn, and seeing as how I trained her I should, she’ll tell him to man up and get on with it."

"That’s not going to sit well with him," Nimrodel observed dryly.

Amroth shrugged. "Agents are rarely reassigned once they’re in the field. At this late date, there’s no one else whom the Agency can put in his place and they have a vested interest, or so they think, in knowing what’s behind all this."

"Well, I’m less concerned about one Alex Grant at the moment than I am about young Derek Lowell," Glorfindel said. "He deserves better."

"You’re planning to have him join us," Daeron said, making it more a statement than a question.

Glorfindel nodded. "Yes, eventually, along with about two-thirds of this particular class from what I’ve been able to determine this early in the term. That figure may go up or down as we get closer to the end of the year. For now, though, I want us to concentrate on Alex and Derek. Alex is the key, but the question still remains: do we bring him into our little conspiracy or shut him out and ultimately, which is the safer course?"

"I don’t think it’s a matter of shutting him out or bringing him in," Amroth commented. "His real reason for being here is me. He and the Agency are interested in knowing why I’m still alive."

Glorfindel gave him a sour grin. "Of all the professions you could have chosen with which to while away your time, you had to choose espionage."

Amroth shrugged. "It wasn’t exactly a choice on my part. Eventually, Alex will confront me, either to bring me in from the cold, as they say, or to eliminate me with extreme prejudice. There are no other options as far as he knows."

"So we need to convince him that there is a third alternative to either of those two scenarios," Daeron said, "and the only alternative is to make him one of us."

"Is that possible though?" Nimrodel asked. "Can he simply resign from the Agency and will they let him go, considering what he knows?"

"It is possible," Amroth replied. "Not easily done, but doable. Yet, that won’t necessarily solve the problem of how to get the Agency and other government officials off our backs."

"We’ll have to explore some avenues of thought on that," Glorfindel said, "but in the meantime, I’m going to introduce Derek and Alex to Zach."

The others nodded in agreement, for they all knew Zach’s worth.

"This should be interesting," Daeron said, his expression deadpan and the others chuckled as Glorfindel dismissed them.

Once he was alone, Glorfindel sat in deep contemplation, only bestirring himself when he heard the distant chimes of the carillons at St. Andrew’s, which rang every day at three o’clock with a selection of songs. He left his office and sauntered over to the athletic field to see how Elladan and Elrohir were doing with the archery lesson. He wasn’t at all surprised to see that Alex Grant was not there but was not unduly concerned, knowing that Gil was keeping an eye on the young spy.

8: Making Amends

Alex ran without conscious thought. He could not have honestly said if he was running away from something or towards something. He simply ran, never wanting to stop until he had run all the way back to D.C., or even better, to New Hampshire and the house in which he’d grown up. All he wanted to do was to run back to a simpler time before he had even heard of the Agency or Ambrose Elwood or anything else to do with the world of espionage. He wanted to outrun it all, but it was an exercise in futility and he knew it, knew it but did not want to accept it. And so he ran and ran and ran until he found himself on the outskirts of the woods he’d come across before and plunged between the trees, only stopping when he found a tall pine blocking his path and no longer had the strength to go around it. Instead, he ducked under the lower branches and wrapped his arms around its trunk as if grabbing hold of a life line. He collapsed against the tree, gasping for breath, forcing back the tears that threatened to come with a ruthless will.

He needed to pull himself together. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear a voice screaming at him, castigating him for being a fool and demanding that he man up and stop acting like a whiny kid, but he ignored the voice and clung to the tree, wishing everything would just go away.

A hand on his shoulder jerked him out of his state and he found himself staring into the concerned eyes of Gil Winters who crouched before him, his left hand outstretched.

"Alex, take my hand."

Alex stared stupidly at Gil’s hand, not quite sure what the man wanted.

"It’s alright, Alex," Gil said gently. "There’s nothing to fear. Take my hand."

Slowly, reluctantly, Alex reached out and took the man’s hand. Instantly, Gil tightened his grip and pulled him up and then to Alex’s complete surprise, embraced him and held him for a long moment, patting his back before releasing him. Alex just stood there, trying to fathom what was happening. Gil smiled, as if he could read the thoughts wildly careening through his mind.

"No, I’m not coming on to you," Gil said with amusement. "I thought you needed a hug just now. When was the last time anyone hugged you?"

"My mom," Alex said without thinking and then blushed to the roots of his hair.

Gil merely nodded. "Mothers are usually good with hugs," he said. "I want to show you something."

Alex gave him a wary look. "What?"

"It’s further in these woods," Gil said.

Instinct took over and Alex started to back away, only stopping because of the tree blocking his escape. He automatically began assessing the situation and Gil, wondering if he would have to take the man out in order to escape. Gil stepped back a few paces, giving him a knowing smile.

"I will not force you to come and you are free to go," Gil said.

For a moment, Alex just stared at the man calmly standing before him, waiting for his response, and he had the strangest feeling that Gil Winters was willing to wait for as long as necessary until he was ready to give an answer. The very stillness with which Winters stood was uncanny. No one could remain that still for so long. Alex shook his head, not so much in denial as to clear it.

"Why?" he asked. "Why are you bothering with me? What do you hope to gain?"

Gil raised an eyebrow. "I do not hope to gain anything except perhaps a little trust from you. As to why I am bothering with you, as you put it, the answer to that is simple. Until you formally leave this college, you are one of my students and it is my duty to be concerned with your welfare as I’m concerned with the welfare of all the students who attend my classes."

Alex thought about that for a moment and then realized something. "You followed me," he stated baldly, giving Gil an accusing look.

Gil nodded. "When someone runs out of a class looking as distraught as you did, I felt it prudent to follow you and make sure you didn’t do something stupid."

Now it was Alex’s turn to raise an eyebrow. "You thought I was suicidal?"

"It had crossed my mind," Gil averred, "but I was simply assuring myself that in your state you did not become injured or killed because you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. I was relieved to see that you came here rather than running out onto a street full of cars."

"I’m not even sure why I came here," Alex admitted. "I just suddenly found myself here and...." He frowned, trying to analyze his feelings and when he could make no sense of them, he just shrugged, feeling oddly lost and unsure of himself. It was not a state with which he was familiar. He’d always been very sure of himself and what he was about.

"Come with me," Gil pleaded. "Let me show you something that might help relieve some of the confusion you are feeling right now."

For a moment Alex was tempted to refuse, but curiosity won out and he simply nodded. Gil’s smile was one of approval and Alex was surprised how much that approval meant to him. He wasn’t sure what his status at the Academy was anymore. He’d pretty much blown his cover, or so it appeared to him. He could easily send Maddy a message to that effect and it would be a good excuse to leave but somehow he had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen. There was still Ambrose Elwood to consider.

Gil turned away and Alex followed him. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"It’s not far," Gil answered without looking back. "In fact, we’re here." He stopped and turned, giving Alex a considering look.

"Where?" Alex demanded, for the spot where Gil had stopped didn’t seem any different from where they’d been before. If anything, the trees seemed to be closer and the sky was blocked out, leaving them in a greenish gloom.

"This is the heart of the woods," Gil replied.

"And so?"

"Close your eyes," Gil demanded. "Close your eyes and slow your breathing and listen with more than just your ears."

Alex frowned, wondering what this was all about but, giving a shrug, complied with the man’s request. Closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, he began doing the yoga breathing exercises he’d been taught, consciously stilling himself. It was cool under the trees but there was no wind so it was not as uncomfortable as it might have been. He stood still and breathed quietly, slowly, letting his ears and other senses take over.

There was a calmness to the place, a sense of quiet growth over long years, and the calmness began slowly seeping into his soul, soothing it, blanketing it with a sense of welcome and acceptance, which struck him as odd on one level, yet somehow comforting on another and he refused to analyze either feeling at that moment. Instead, he simply let those feelings of acceptance flow over and through him and then he found himself involuntarily blinking, as if coming out of a deep sleep.

Gil was still where he’d last seen him. Indeed, the man could’ve been a statue, so still did he stand. "Wh-what happened?"

"How do you feel?" Gil asked.

"I... I’m not sure," Alex admitted with a frown. "What happened?"

"The forest welcomed you," Gil replied. "It does not welcome many. It has long memories of your kind coming in and destroying its kith and kin, but it has welcomed you and that’s a start."

"Wait a minute. My kind? What do you mean by that?"

"It’s not important," Gil retorted. "What is important is the fact that you are welcome here in these woods. You may have noticed that few if any of your fellow students bother to come here though there is no barrier preventing them from doing so. Yet, they do not, which is a grief for us, for the trees are our friends and allies."

"Whoa! What are you babbling about? Are you one of those tree-huggers who drive metal stakes into trees to prevent the loggers from cutting them down?"

"Of course not," Gil replied somewhat angrily. "A ludicrous thing to do to a helpless tree. It’s almost as bad as wantonly cutting them down for no purpose. No, I am merely saying that these woods rarely welcome people anymore given their unfortunate experiences with loggers. That they’ve accepted you as they have is a good sign. It means you’re not a lost cause after all."

Before Alex could respond to that, Gil started walking away. "I think it’s time we got back to the Academy," he said without looking to see if Alex was following him.

"What do you mean, I’m not a lost cause?" Alex demanded as he attempted to catch up with the man who seemed to glide effortlessly through the tangle of undergrowth while Alex struggled to keep up. "When was I ever considered a lost cause to begin with? I only just got here a few days ago."

"And in that time you’ve questioned everything that we’ve asked you to do," Gil retorted, not stopping. "You’ve argued and complained and pretty much acted like a prima donna. Yet, you also showed signs of promise. I noticed, even if no one else did, how contented you were when you were making up sentences in Sindarin. I heard you humming."

Alex felt himself reddening. "I never hum unless I’m working on translations. I like working with languages."

"So I gathered," Gil said, looking back with a smile. "So there are things about Elf Academy that you like."

"And too much that makes no sense," Alex said, stopping. "Learning a language and a history of a race of people that don’t exist outside of fairy tales. What’s the point? We’re supposed to be tour guides! So let us be learning that."

"Oh, don’t worry, you’ll learn all you need to know about how to be a good tour guide, never fear. However, I would question your assumption that Elves do not exist."

"Of course they don’t exist," Alex insisted. "What proof do you have that they do?"

Gil stopped and looked at him, his expression serious. "And what proof do you have that they don’t."

"Well... I mean... It’s obvious."

"Is it? How?"

"What do you mean? No one’s ever seen one, that’s how."

"Yet, the stories persist that they are real and that some few have had encounters with them. Now, I’m not saying that all that is said about the Elves is true, only that such stories don’t invent themselves. There has to be an historical truth on which they are based, however skewed and incorrect the stories may be. The fact that you have no proof of their existence does not exclude the possibility that they do indeed exist."

"So this Sindarin and the myths, are you saying they are real?"

"I’m saying that you should not discount the possibility. And if nothing else, accept them simply as a given, something that anyone who wishes to be an Elf Guide needs to know. You do still want to be an Elf Guide, do you not?"

Alex hesitated, not willing to commit himself. "I... I don’t know anymore," he finally admitted, surprised to realize that he really didn’t know. He was here on pretense. Why would he care if he actually became a bona fide elf guide when his only goal was to complete his assignment and get back to D.C.?

"Well, until you know for sure," Gil suggested kindly, taking Alex’s arm as they continued their way out of the woods, "why don’t you pretend that you do and continue taking the classes without argument. Learn what we wish to teach you. I promise you, you will come away the richer for it."

Alex found himself nodding in agreement and an odd sense of relief flooded him. He wasn’t sure why and decided not to look too closely at that feeling. "Assuming that I’m allowed to stay after today."

"Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about it," Gil assured him. "We don’t give up on our students that easily. Now you’ve missed archery again and that is unacceptable. So, tomorrow rather than joining the others on the field trip that is scheduled for after breakfast, you will report to the archery field and Roy will give you a lesson. You can join the others in your class in the afternoon for the dog sledding lesson. Roy will drive you to where you need to be for that."

Alex sighed. "Just so long as I don’t have to dress up in green tights," he joked.

Gil chuckled. "Oh, we wouldn’t go that far, though I think you would look rather good in them myself." He gave Alex a knowing smile and Alex found himself blushing which made Gil laugh and the sound of it was neither malicious nor salacious but rather infectious in its joyfulness and Alex couldn’t help laughing as well.

****

Alex was surprised to learn that it was nearly four o’clock by the time he and Gil were back at the Academy. He couldn’t understand how that could be. "We couldn’t have been in those woods for five hours," he protested to Gil who merely shrugged.

"We were there for as long as it was needful for us to be there," came his rather philosophical and cryptic reply. "Now before I let you go, I think you owe some people an apology."

Alex nodded and dutifully followed Gil. He thought the man would take him to Della White’s office, but he found himself being led to Loren’s office instead. Gil knocked and entered without waiting for a reply and Alex joined him. Loren was alone, sitting at his desk. He looked at Gil.

"Massad hon hirianneg?"

"Nan glaid." Gil answered readily enough. "iNgelaidh hon adhover anglenno."

Alex saw Loren raise an eyebrow at whatever Gil had said to him and then looked at Alex, speaking in English.

"How are you feeling?" he asked and there was no condemnation in his voice or his expression, only concern and that surprised Alex more than anything.

"I’m not entirely sure," he answered honestly enough.

Loren nodded. "Do you wish to leave the Academy?"

Alex shook his head. "No," he replied and left it at that.

Loren gave him a considering look and Alex forced himself not to flinch or look away. Before it became too uncomfortable for him, Loren broke eye contact, bending down to retrieve something that Alex could not see at first. It was his book bag.

"You’ll want this," was all he said as he handed the bag to him. Alex muttered his thanks as he accepted it. "I hope things will go smoother for you from now on," Loren continued. "Now I think you should find Derek and apologize to him. He was very upset by your actions."

"I should apologize to Ms White, as well."

"You may do that later. Go. Clean yourself up and get some dinner."

Alex nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Alex, whatever you think, we’re not the bad guys here."

"I’ll keep that in mind," he said without bothering to turn around and made his escape, closing the door behind him.

He went quickly to his room, surprised to see that Derek was not alone. A young man who looked to be in his early twenties was there. Both he and Derek looked up when he came in. The young man stood up from where he’d been sitting on Derek’s bed, putting out his hand as he introduced himself.

"Hi, you must be Alex. I’m Zach. Zach Austin."

"Pleased to meet you," Alex replied. Then he looked at Derek. "Sorry about earlier. I’m not sure what came over me. I had a long talk with Gil Winters and... and he was able to help me."

"So you’re staying?"

Alex nodded. "For now."

"Great," Zach said enthusiastically. "The more, the merrier."

"So how do you two know each other?" Alex asked Zach.

"Actually, we just met," Derek answered. "Zach was at archery and we ended up on the same team."

"So you’re studying to be an elf guide, too?" Alex asked.

Zach shook his head. "Been there, done that. I’m actually Loren’s assistant but I like to keep up my archery skills so I join in when I can."

"We were just about to go to dinner," Derek said. "Care to join us?"

"Let me clean up first," Alex pleaded.

"We’ll wait," Zach said.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Massad hon hirianneg?: ‘Where did you find him?’

Nan glaid: ‘In the woods.’

iNgelaidh hon adhover anglenno: ‘The trees allowed him to approach.’

9: Tuesday Night at the Blue Petrel

The next morning after breakfast, Alex saw Derek and the others off on their field trip, then made his way to the archery field where he was surprised to see Zach, though Roy was not there. The young man was looking over some bows that had already been brought out. He looked up with a smile in greeting as Alex approached.

"Good morning."

"Morning. What are you doing here? I thought Roy was teaching me."

"He is. As I said last night, I like to keep up my archery and since Roy is giving you this lesson, I thought I would join you. It’s more fun to shoot with a partner."

"I guess," Alex said with a shrug as he looked over the bows. "I suspect that Roy is not too happy to have to give this lesson."

"No, I’m not."

The two young men looked around to see Roy walking towards them, his face set in a scowl. He was carrying a large bow, larger than the ones provided by the college, with a quiver slung over his shoulder. "Sarah and I had plans for this morning."

"Ah, Sarah," Zach said with an exaggerated sigh, giving Roy a sly smile.

"Quiet, you," Roy growled, but Alex sensed that the man wasn’t as angry as he sounded and was merely grumbling for show.

"Sorry," Alex said, "but Gil insisted I have this lesson."

Roy nodded. "And so we shall. Have you done archery before?"

Alex shook his head and then couldn’t help grinning. "The only target practice I was interested in while in college was scoring with Rachel Blumberg."

Both Zach and Roy laughed. "And did you succeed?" Roy asked.

"Now that would be telling," Alex retorted with a laugh of his own.

"Well, let’s find you a bow and get you started," Roy said and he proceeded to pick out one or two of the larger bows for him to test.

****

The lesson went well and by the end Roy was satisfied that Alex at least knew which end of the arrow was which. "Enough not to cause yourself or another an injury at any rate," was his comment as the three of them put away the equipment. Roy had taken time near the end of the lesson to give Alex a demonstration of his own skills, leaving Alex feeling a bit shell-shocked. Zach appeared competent with the bow and more often than not hit the bull’s-eye.

"After two years of practice, I hope I’ve improved," he said when Alex commented on his skills.

"You have," Roy said. "Loren is very proud of your efforts."

Alex saw Zach practically glow with pride at those words of praise. Apparently Loren’s approval was very important to the younger man. He remembered that same feeling of pride whenever Ambrose praised him and the need to keep his approval. Alex wondered what Ambrose must think of him now, but shied away from that thought. He still wasn’t sure in his own mind how he would confront the former agent.

"Well, go grab some lunch you two," Roy said once everything was put away, "and then I’ll meet you out front Alex at one o’clock and drive you over to Lookout Safari."

Alex nodded and then he and Zach headed back to the Academy for lunch.

True to his word, Roy was waiting for him out front and they were soon off towards Bettles and Lookout Safari. There was little conversation between them. Alex was feeling suddenly shy. Roy didn’t look much older than he, yet all during the archery lesson Alex had felt as if he were in the presence of someone who was much older. Even Zach had been very respectful, more so than one would expect. During the lesson it had been easy to keep their conversation limited to the subject of archery, but now Alex was at a loss. He was not sure what to say or if he should say anything, so he stared out the side window, watching the scenery go by. He almost jumped when Roy suddenly spoke.

"Gil said he found you in the woods."

Alex felt the blood drain from his face and there was a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thought of that encounter and hoped he would not be sick. He had no idea why the memory upset him as it did.

Roy glanced over at him and then brought the car to a halt by the side of the road. "Alex, look at me," he commanded softly.

Alex swallowed a couple of times, trying to get his emotions under control, not wanting to comply.

"Alex."

The sound of his name, so softly spoken, yet full of deep sympathy and understanding, broke his resolve and to his utter horror he found himself crying without knowing why. He sensed rather than saw Roy unbuckle both their seatbelts and then climb out of the car to come to the passenger side where he opened the door and drew Alex outside. For the second time in as many days, Alex found himself being hugged.

"It’s all right," Roy crooned. "It’s all right."

"This is so stupid," Alex protested as he tried to stifle his tears.

"There’s nothing stupid about honest emotions," Roy countered, rubbing Alex’s back to comfort him.

"What’s happening to me?" Alex implored.

"What happens to many people who come here," Roy replied, releasing Alex from his embrace to look him in the eye. His expression was one of compassion. "This place can change people in rather remarkable ways. It changed me."

"You? How?"

"Before I came to Wiseman, well, let’s just say that there had never been anyone like Sarah in my life."

"Ah, Sarah," Alex couldn’t help saying in the same tone of voice Zach had used as he wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hands.

Roy merely grinned. "Ready to go on?" he asked and when Alex nodded, they both got back into the car and were soon on their way again.

"So, just why did you apply to the Academy?" Roy asked.

Alex sighed. "I’m beginning to wonder myself." It was the only answer he was willing to give, since in truth he hadn’t applied to the Academy.

"I should tell you that not everyone was happy to know that you were staying," Roy said. "Some of the other students were rather upset by your attitude and went to Loren insisting he send you packing."

"Why didn’t he?"

"Loren is a believer in lost causes."

"Gil said something like that," Alex said with a frown. "I asked him how anyone could consider me a lost cause when I’d only been here a few days."

"Yes, well, let’s just say that you were not endearing yourself to your fellow classmates with your constant questioning."

"It just seems so odd to be learning a language and a history that is invented."

Roy chuckled in amusement. "My dear Alex, every language you’ve ever heard of is invented, and the same goes for any history you might have read about. Do you seriously think the history you’ve been taught is entirely correct and error-free? I can assure you it is not. History is an invention, like anything else. The ancient Hebrews actually invented the concept of history. It did not exist in the same sense as we know it today in the classical world of the Greeks and Romans. And each language is an invention, created out of necessity or desire or just for the hell of it."

"Just for the hell of it?" Alex couldn’t help repeating, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

Roy flashed him a wide grin. Alex couldn’t help grinning back and then he turned his attention to the scenery rushing by as they sped down the James Dalton Highway towards Bettles. Roy remained silent, allowing him the space he needed to think, for which he was grateful.

Reaching Lookout Safari, Alex thanked Roy for the lift. "I’m sorry I ruined your day off," he said as he started to unbuckle the seatbelt.

Roy gave him a surprised look and then laughed. "Who said anything about a day off? I only said that Sarah and I had plans. But thanks anyway. I’ll see you later."

Alex waved good-bye as Roy sped away, then looked around for the others and saw the buses on the other side of the parking lot, relieved to see that people were just getting off, so he wasn’t late. Spying Derek in the crowd, he called out and Derek waved.

"Just in time," Derek said as Alex joined him. "How did the archery lesson go?"

"Well, I didn’t accidently shoot myself in the foot with an arrow, so I guess I did okay," Alex replied with a laugh. "Zach was there. Said something about it being more fun with a partner."

"Zach’s pretty cool for all that he’s still young. He just became legal last spring."

"He seems more mature than most guys that age, certainly more mature than I was."

"Tell me about it," Derek said with a wide grin. "Ah, I think the tour is about to begin."

The two of them turned their attention to the man who was addressing them, telling them about the company and directing them towards a large barn-like facility where they were introduced to the huskies and practiced sledding on artificial snow.

"Though, in a month or so, we’ll see the real thing," the owner of the safari company told them. "It’s a whole different ballgame when you’re sledding on actual trails."

Still, Alex felt more confident about his ability to handle the dogs than he had about handling the reindeer, so he came away from the lesson feeling better about himself. He noticed that some of the other students were rather cool towards him, but as he only had himself to blame for it, he tried not to let it get to him. At least Derek was willing to give him a second chance and there was his new friend, Zach, so he was grateful for small favors.

Later, after dinner, he and Derek joined many others in their first pennywhistle class. There were enough students interested in learning the instrument that they started out the meeting in the cafeteria where they were joined by Darren, Roy, Dan, Sarah and another woman named Holly. Alex assumed the two were sisters, for they could almost have passed as twins. The students were broken up into smaller groups and Alex found himself in the group being led by Roy.

"A man of many talents," he quipped with a smile. "Is there anything you can’t do?"

"Still haven’t gotten the hang of ribbon embroidery," Roy retorted with a straight face and Alex laughed.

Roy’s group made its way to one of the classrooms where they spent a happy hour learning how to play the pennywhistle. By the end of the lesson they could all pick out a simple holiday tune.

"We’ll get together again Thursday night in this room," Roy said as he dismissed them. "If any of you can read music, go ahead and see if you can play any of the songs that you are learning in the Dealing with Children class, otherwise, just concentrate on perfecting your technique. Have a good evening, everyone."

Alex joined the exodus, trailing behind, so he was still in the room when Sarah squeezed through the crowd. He saw Roy’s eyes light up and smiled at the couple. He was just about to exit when two other people came to the door and he stepped back in dismay to let them in. Ambrose Elwood gave him a nod as he walked past and Alex hoped that meant that his former mentor did not recognize him. Della would have followed but Alex held out a hand to stay her. He was uncomfortably aware of Elwood standing behind him.

Della gave him an enquiring look and he swallowed a little nervously. "I... want to apologize for yesterday," he said.

She did not answer immediately, but stared at him with an intensity that unnerved him. It was as if she could read his very soul and he suddenly realized that she gave him the same searching look as Elwood used to when the man was training him. Alex forced himself not to break eye contact and after a moment Della spoke.

"Apology accepted," she said, then patted him on the arm. "I’ll see you next Monday then and don’t forget to read the assignment. Derek will tell you what it is."

"Yes, ma’am," Alex replied and was relieved when she turned her gaze away. He stood at the doorway for a few seconds trying to remember to breathe properly and overheard Elwood speaking to Roy and Sarah.

"Man sad anírel bado as sogad?"

"iGuin Luin?" Roy suggested and everyone else nodded.

Alex stared at Elwood in surprise, not expecting him to rattle off words in that Sindarin with such fluid ease. As the four started to leave, Alex belatedly realized he was still standing at the doorway eavesdropping and blocking their path. He felt himself reddening under four pairs of amused looking eyes.

"We’re on our way to the Blue Petrel for a drink. You’re welcome to join us," Roy said.

"Uh... thanks... but... I think I’ll pass," Alex replied, not daring to look at Elwood. "I’ll... I’ll see you later." With that he quickly made his escape and felt himself reddening even more when he heard one of the women laughing lightly. He refused to look back to see who it was. Turning the corner he nearly crashed into Derek who was with a few others, including Zach.

"Whoa! Alex, slow down. Where’s the fire?" Derek said laughingly.

"Ah... sorry... I...."

"We’re heading into town for a couple of beers," Derek said. "Care to join us?"

"Er... I.... don’t....."

"C’mon," Zach said, grabbing his arm. "All that pennywhistling makes a man thirsty."

Before Alex knew it, he was being hustled along by Zach and Derek while the others, a mix group of young men and women, followed. In spite of the fact that it was after eight o’clock, the sun was still high in the sky and the air was relatively warm, so they all decided to walk into town. He kept protesting that he was in no mood to go drinking in the middle of the week, but neither Zach nor Derek let him go, both insisting he share one drink with them.

"And then you can go beddy," Zach said with a laugh that was echoed by the others.

So, Alex gave in to the inevitable and allowed himself to be led. The group had obviously decided earlier where they were going for there was no discussion about it. It was only when they turned off the main road onto a side street and he saw the garish neon sign before him that Alex wished he’d been able to get away.

"We’re going to the Blue Petrel?" he asked faintly.

"Do you have any objections?" Derek retorted.

Alex could only shake his head as he and the others entered the bar, which was only about half full on a Tuesday night, so it wasn’t as noisy as it might otherwise have been. The jukebox was playing an old Alan Jackson tune and the ubiquitous TV monitor was showing the latest sports news, the volume turned down low. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, Alex glanced around and spied Roy, Sarah, Ambrose and Della in a corner. With them were Loren, Darren, Roy’s twin brother, Dan, and another woman whose name he did not know. Darren held a guitar-like instrument that he recognized as being a lute, quietly strumming it as his companions spoke softly to one another. He saw Roy place an arm around Sarah’s shoulder, giving her a light kiss on her temple as she leaned into him. Ambrose was holding Della’s hand as he was speaking with Loren.

Alex and Derek joined the others at the bar to give their order, but Zach went over to greet the Academy teachers. Everyone smiled warmly at the young man’s approach and they all, including Zach, began speaking in Sindarin, for Alex recognized the phrase ‘mae govannen’ if nothing else they were saying.

As he was waiting for his drink, Alex watched the interplay between Zach and the teachers and saw Zach’s expression brighten when Darren nodded at something he’d said. Zach then came to the bar, calling the barman over.

"Daeron’s agreed to sing tonight," he said and the barman nodded.

Alex watched in bemusement as the barman reached up and turned off the TV and then raised his voice over the sounds of protest. "Daeron’s singing. So no more quarters in the jukebox. We’ll just let ol’ Alan here finish whining about his lost love and then we can sit back and listen to real music."

There was a general chorus of cheers from the few other patrons and several ordered more drinks, apparently wishing to be well settled for what they knew was a treat. Alex and the other students looked at each other in bemusement. Zach smiled. "Find a seat. As soon as we’re all settled Darren will sing."

"You make it sound as if hearing Darren sing is a great honor rarely bestowed upon us poor mortals," one of the young men joked.

"Oh, you have no idea," Zach retorted.

A few minutes later, a bottle of Amstel Light in his hands, Alex found a seat along with the others. Darren, in the meantime, had positioned himself so he was facing most of the rest of the bar. An unusual silence filled the room, broken by the sound of the door opening. Someone standing nearby whispered to the newcomers and Alex saw them nodding, their expressions one of delight. They quietly made their way to the bar and whispered their orders, then found some seats.

"Everyone ready?" Darren asked with a smile.

"We’re all set, Daeron," the barman replied.

Alex realized that was the third time someone had mispronounced the man’s name.... or maybe not. But his thoughts were interrupted when Darren began playing on the lute and then he raised his voice in song:

"A Elbereth Gilthoniel...."

Alex never knew how long he sat there lost in a waking dream as he listened to Darren singing one song after another in that strange language, his beer forgotten. He could not have said what the songs were about, yet his mind seemed to supply him with fantastical images of strange human-like people with bright eyes singing the universe into being. And it seemed to him that a history unfolded before him and he was lost in the wonder of waking under starlight and walking through a dense forest. Then the scene shifted again and he found himself in a bright land of many colors where he saw a dark-haired man showing others three jewels that shone brighter than the sun.

Then Darren’s song took a darker turn and Alex felt suddenly cold, a wind biting him as he slogged across an unforgiving landscape of eternal white under the indifferent gaze of distant stars. Before it became too unbearable the scene shifted again and Alex felt rather than heard the whoosh of arrows flying by him and there was suddenly a sword in his hand and he could feel the coldness of the metal pressing against his palm. Horrors rose before him and he found himself fighting alongside others whom he could not clearly see though he thought he recognized Loren, wearing strange looking braids, his eyes almost too bright as he slew one enemy after another. History seemed to unfold further and in the center of the story were the three jewels. Scene after scene sped by and he could not clearly grasp their meaning and yet he sensed their import, that somehow what he was experiencing was ‘true’. Yet, he knew it could not possibly be and deep within him, even as he sat rapt in the spell Darren was weaving, he sorrowed that it was so.

Daeron shifted to another song and now Alex found himself in a land of tall trees, taller than redwoods, their leaves golden, and on a mound covered with gold and white flowers he saw a woman who looked liked Della dressed in a long gown, her hair crowned with a garland of flowers and there was a man with her whose face he could not see at first, but then he turned and Alex found himself staring into Ambrose’s eyes and the shock of it brought him momentarily out of his fugue.

Before he could analyze what was happening, though, Ambrose began singing as well and then Della and the others at their table joined him and Darren. Alex was not the only listener to gasp in shock as the ethereal beauty of their voices, blending so perfectly, nearly overwhelmed them with the emotions that were evoked and he was lost again in wonder.

When the song came to an end, Alex found himself blinking, as if waking up from a dream. He gazed in bemusement at those sitting next to him and saw that they looked as stunned as he felt. Then his eyes fell upon the table where Darren and the others sat and, for a brief second, he thought he saw them dressed in strange clothes, their long hair braided with gems, all of them glowing with an inner light. He rubbed his hands over his eyes as if trying to erase the image and when he opened them again he was shocked to see Ambrose and Della walking towards him arm-in-arm. "See you in the morning," Ambrose said cheerfully as he and Della passed by.

Alex just sat there, stunned, unable to think clearly, not sure what had just happened. He was startled out of his reverie when Derek tapped him on the shoulder.

"C’mon, Alex, finish up your beer. It’s time to get back."

Alex nodded and started to drink but put the bottle down and stood up. "I’m ready. Let’s go."

****

Words are Sindarin:

Man sad anírel bado as sogad?: ‘Where do you want to go for a drink?’

iGuin Luin: ‘The Blue Petrel.’

10: Discussions

Glorfindel, sitting in his office on Friday morning, didn’t bother to look up from the documents he was perusing when there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," he called out.

The door opened, but not very widely, and then he heard the sound of little feet sneaking in and smiled to himself, pretending to be reading, but all the while keeping track of his visitor’s movements. Just as his stalker was about to pounce on him, he reached out more swiftly than human eyes could follow and grabbed the young boy.

"Gotcha!" he said as Caleb Lord squealed in feigned fright. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? You’re too small to be an orc and your feet aren’t hairy enough to be a Hobbit. So who are you again?"

Five-year-old Caleb giggled as Glorfindel continued dangling him in the air. "Mae govannen, Gworfindel. Ci mae?"

"Mae govannen na gi, Caleb. Ni maer. A chi?" Glorfindel smiled as he set the boy on his desk to face him.

"Maer."

"So, what are you doing here and where’s your naneth?" Glorfindel asked.

For an answer, Caleb pointed at the door and Nicole Lord entered. "I hope we didn’t come at a bad time," she said by way of greeting, giving them a smile.

"It’s never a bad time for a visit from friends," Glorfindel replied sincerely. "So what brings you two here?"

"We’ve just been to the doctor’s for Caleb’s wellness visit before he starts school next week."

"That’s right. Kindergarten. Are you all set to go?"

Caleb nodded. "Huh huh. Nana bought me new clothes."

"New clothes are important when one is going to Kindergarten for the first time," Glorfindel said in all seriousness. He smiled fondly at the young Mortal who reminded him of another little boy who had captured his heart along with the hearts of everyone else in Imladris. More than once he had caught himself thinking of Caleb as ‘Estel’ and he even called him that one time, confusing the youngster until he explained. Even the Twins had fallen into the same trap.

"Where’s Finrod?" Caleb asked suddenly.

"He’s busy being friends with some of the students," Glorfindel answered. "Did you want to see him?"

Caleb nodded and Nicole spoke up. "It’s one reason we’re here. Caleb wanted to show Zach his new clothes." She gave Glorfindel a knowing smile and he returned it. Caleb was Zach’s little shadow whenever he had the opportunity to see him, constantly following him around. Zach didn’t mind, saying he’d always wished for a little brother. Zach and Caleb’s relationship was very special and Nicole was grateful for it. When her husband up and left her with four kids, she and her children had had a hard time of it until the Elves and Zach entered their lives. The Elves had been particularly attentive to Nicole and her children, practically adopting them, but Caleb, being the youngest, was their special joy and delight.

"Well, as it happens, I was going to meet Zach for lunch, so why don’t you join us?" Glorfindel suggested.

"Oh we couldn’t do that," Nicole protested. "We really just came by to say hello."

"No. I insist," Glorfindel said. "Then Caleb can show us both his new clothes."

"Yay!" Caleb crowed in delight, raising his arms and clapping.

"Well, if you don’t mind," Nicole said a little uncertainly.

"Not at all. Come. It’s almost time for lunch. I’m meeting him at the cafeteria, if that’s all right with you."

Nicole nodded and Glorfindel stood up, helping Caleb down from the desk. "So how is the new job going?" he asked.

"Better than I’d hoped," Nicole answered as they left the office and made their way towards the cafeteria. "The people I work with are very warm and friendly."

"Nana’s got a boyfriend," Caleb announced rather proudly.

"Caleb!" Nicole admonished, blushing.

Glorfindel smiled. "It must be in the air," he said.

When Nicole gave him a puzzled look he laughed. "Elrohir and Serindë. He finally got up the nerve to ask her out the other night."

Nicole giggled. "It seems so strange to know that someone like Roy who’s older than dirt can still act like a tongue-tied teenager asking a girl to the prom."

Glorfindel smiled. "Even we Elves are not immune to the effects of love’s arrows or the ecstasy and the agony that go with it. I think you’ve heard enough of our tales to know this."

"Oh yes, but it’s still a hard concept to get one’s head around," she averred. Then, she gave him a sly look. "So, do you think there’s a wedding in the future for them?"

"One would hope," Glorfindel said with a sigh.

"And Dan is all right with this?" Now her expression mutated to one of concern.

"Oh, don’t worry about Elladan. He’s the one who kept nagging his brother to ask the fair damsel out."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "I’m surprised."

"Oh? Why’s that?"

"Oh, I don’t know. The two of them are so close. Having a third person, even one as lovely and as sweet as Sarah, coming between them...." She left the thought unspoken, her expression somewhat troubled.

Glorfindel gave her a comforting smile. "As I said, there’s nothing to worry about. Elladan rejoices that his brother has found someone to love." Then he chuckled. "Besides he’s too busy pursuing Alphwen, or maybe this week it’s Eirien, along with the other ellyn, to care about what Elrohir is up to."

"Oh?" Nicole gave him an amused look. "Rivalries among the ellyn for the attentions of the ellith? Aren’t Alfa and Daisy so much older than Dan?"

Glorfindel’s laugh was joyful. "Nicole, age is never a real factor among immortals. After your first millennium, no one bothers to keep count."

"Oh, sorry," she said apologetically and Glorfindel stopped and gave her a hug.

"No need to apologize, my dear. And no need to worry. Alphwen and Eirien are enjoying the attentions of four eligible ellyn."

"Four? Are you not counting yourself among them?" she asked teasingly.

"Nor is Daeron. We two are truly too old for such nonsense. Daeron remembers Cuiviénen and I remember the Two Trees. The other Elves were born in Beleriand or, in the case of Amroth, Nimrodel and Mithrellas, they were born further east."

"Ron and Holly were also born in Beleriand?" Nicole asked in puzzlement. "But they’re both Noldorin, aren’t they?"

Glorfindel nodded. "Vorondur was born in Nargothrond shortly after Finrod founded it and Ercassë I believe was born in East Beleriand. I believe her parents held their allegiance to Maedhros."

"I’m surprised that Misty isn’t considered eligible for courting," Nicole said. "She’s single as well."

"Among the Elves we only marry once," Glorfindel replied. "In all our existence, there has only been one exception."

"But she married a Mortal," Nicole protested. "Surely she has the right to find happiness among her own people."

"But she has not, or rather she does not. She holds herself to our customs and we honor her for it. But please do not be overly concerned for her. Mithrellas is content and she finds the ellyn amusing in their pursuit of the other ellith." He gave her a knowing smile and she returned it.

By now, they had reached the cafeteria where already there was a line of students waiting to enter. Caleb, who had been holding his mother’s hand all this while, suddenly broke free when he saw his hero.

"Finrod! Finrod!"

Zach turned from speaking with Derek and Alex and smiled broadly, bending down with arms wide open to greet the youngster running towards him.

"Whoa!" he said laughingly as he picked the boy up.

"Finrod! Aníreg ceno...."

"Cened," Zach corrected automatically.

"Cened i-chammad ’wain nîn?’ Caleb asked all in a rush.

"iChammad ’wain gîn, huh?’ Zach said with a smile as he settled the boy in the crook of his arm, giving Nicole a smile. "Let me guess," he said in English, "Kindergarten."

Nicole laughed and Glorfindel grinned. "We’ll have lunch first and then Caleb can show off his new school outfits," he said. "The line’s moving. Why don’t we join it? Alex, Derek, this is Nicole Lord and her youngest son, Caleb. She and her family are good friends of ours. Nicole, Alex and Derek are two of our more promising students."

The Mortals exchanged greetings. Glorfindel watched in amusement at the different reactions of the two young men. Derek practically glowed at the unexpected praise, while Alex looked startled, almost frightened, though he recovered quickly enough. They really were going to have to do something about him. Amroth was going to have to confront his former student sooner rather than later. They needed Alex, or rather they needed Artemus, on their side. It didn’t do to have the government looking too closely at Elf Academy and he was still trying to discover who had contacted the authorities.

He was not so naive as to think that everyone in Wiseman was on board with the idea of Elves and their mission, but he had hoped that over time their presence would not be considered threatening. He grimaced to himself at the memory of several ministers of various religious faiths and denominations confronting him not long after the Elves had revealed themselves to the people of Wiseman, demanding to know if he were in truth a fallen angel. When one of them even went so far as to ask if he and the other Elves weren’t Grigori, he’d laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all. That had not endeared him to these men and women of the cloth, at least not to all.

"I assure you, I am neither Vala nor Maia, fallen or otherwise," he had told them when he’d finally calmed down. "I am only an Elf, one of the Firstborn of the One, as you are of the Secondborn." He then had allowed them to see something of his true nature which he normally kept cloaked, his inherent powers as an Elf and one trained by the Maiar becoming visible to them. More than one of his accusers stepped back in shock. "I have fought against Evil Incarnate, my children," he said quietly, "and have spoken face-to-face with the Elder King and his fellow Valar, sent by the One to be the Guardians of this universe. Do not presume to think you have all the answers, for you do not. And do not confuse your mythologies with truth."

He had dismissed them at that point, bidding them a good day. Some left with expressions of fear or hatred on their faces, others left troubled and confused. A couple actually apologized and asked if they could return alone to speak to him or the other Elves and he had invited them to join him for dinner some evening. Later, he was pleased to see these same people signing up for the history and language classes that the Elves were offering to the townspeople. He noticed with some sorrow that these particular ministers were being ostracized by their fellows and he made a special effort to befriend them, helping to alleviate their loneliness.

Glorfindel was pulled out of his reverie by Caleb suddenly asking him why he was sad. He blinked in confusion for a second, not sure why the child had asked him that and then noticed several of the Mortals around him giving him concerned looks. Zach and Nicole especially seemed worried. He gave them a smile. "Forgive me. I did not mean to upset you. I’m afraid I lost myself in a memory. It’s an occupational hazard when... when you are as old as I am."

Zach and Nicole gave him astonished looks but all the other Mortals either rolled their eyes or sniggered at what they considered an absurd statement seeing as how the one who had said it didn’t look any older than they. He overheard one young woman whisper to her friends, "If he’s old, what does that make us?" and grinned.

He had a feeling Zach wanted to ask him what was wrong but by then they were in the cafeteria proper and everyone was too busy collecting trays and cutlery and letting the servers know what they wanted. Zach helped Caleb with choosing tomato soup and macaroni and cheese and Glorfindel told the cashier that he was paying for Nicole’s lunch and that Caleb’s lunch was free. Once through the line he and Nicole joined Zach with Derek and Alex. Caleb was sitting between Zach and Alex happily slurping his soup and looking about with interest at all the students. Alex was the only one who appeared uncomfortable, stealing glances at Glorfindel which he ignored.

For a moment or two everyone concentrated on their lunch and then Derek looked at Zach. "So what’s with the squirt calling you Finrod?" he asked, nodding at Caleb digging into his macaroni and cheese, ignoring everyone.

"That was my nom d’Elf, as someone called it," Zach said with a laugh. "I was in the first class here. Nicole and her family were my test family."

"Your what?" Alex asked before Derek could respond.

"Oops," Zach said with a look of regret at Glorfindel who merely raised an amused eyebrow. "I’m sorry. I th-think I let the c-c-cat out of the bag," he stuttered.

"It’s all right, Zach," Glorfindel said soothingly, giving his young assistant a comforting pat on the arm. "You did nothing wrong." He turned to Derek and Alex. "We usually don’t reveal how the final exam goes until near the end of the term, but basically, we have townspeople volunteer to act as tourists who have signed up for one of the holiday tours that you would be leading. Everyone is assigned to a tour company or resort and given a family and you are tested on how well you construct the tour given the particular interests which the family indicates. I really wouldn’t worry about it. It’s early yet and you have much to learn but I promise you that we will make sure you have all you need to be good Elf Guides. Now, why don’t we change the subject? I believe you two are scheduled to go to the Gates of the Arctic National Park and Reserve to walk their trails."

Both Derek and Alex nodded. "I hope it isn’t as creepy as the last one," Alex said suddenly and Glorfindel noticed the slight shudder and the bleak look in the Mortal’s eyes. Derek simply gave him a confused look.

"As I said, the Winterdark Tarn trail can affect people in different ways," Glorfindel said neutrally. "The Gates of the Arctic trails are less... disturbing. You should plan to go on the orange trail. It’s a very pleasant walk."

Zach nodded enthusiastically. "I like that trail. I’ve gone on it lots of times."

Alex and Derek looked at each other and shrugged almost at the same time. Then Alex turned to Glorfindel with a brief smile. "We’ll take it under advisement."

Glorfindel laughed as did Nicole. "It really is a pleasant trail to walk," she said. "And Loren is correct. I wouldn’t worry about the final exam yet. With the teachers you have, you’ll have no trouble passing."

By now they were finishing up lunch and Glorfindel could see Caleb becoming restless and bored with all the grown-ups talking. He smiled down at the youngster kicking his heels as he played with his chocolate milk. "So, why don’t we finish up here and then Caleb can show us his new clothes."

Caleb grinned, nodding enthusiastically while everyone else gave him indulgent smiles.

"We need to catch a bus," Alex said.

"It’s on the way," Glorfindel replied. "You can stop for a minute to admire the clothes, can’t you?"

Alex wasn’t the only one to give him a quizzical look. Even Zach, more used to his ways than most of the Mortals, looked puzzled. Only Caleb seemed unaffected. "C’mon!" he pleaded. "Nana bought me new shoes, too."

"Well, we certainly can’t leave for our walk without seeing your new shoes," Derek said with a smile at the boy. "What color?"

"Brown," Caleb answered. "I wanted blue shoes but Nana says you have to be a king to wear blue shoes."

Even Alex laughed at that, recognizing the reference.

"And if your nana says so, then it must be true," Glorfindel said with a wicked smile aimed at Nicole who gave him a brief scowl but then she was chuckling along with the others.

When they reached the parking lot, Nicole led them to her car and opened the trunk to show them Caleb’s clothes, which he proudly pulled out of their bags. Everyone admired the clothes and the shoes, declaring that he would obviously be the best-dressed boy in his class. Then the clothes were put away, Zach helped Caleb into his safety seat, promising to see him over the weekend, while Nicole thanked Glorfindel for lunch. Soon Glorfindel, Zach, Alex and Derek were standing in the parking lot waving as Nicole and Caleb drove off.

"We’d best find our bus," Derek said after a minute.

"Yes, by all means, go and enjoy your walk and don’t forget the movie tonight."

"What’s playing?" Alex asked.

"Ah, that’s a surprise," Glorfindel replied. "Off you go now."

"You’re not coming?" Derek asked Zach.

"I’m afraid I need Zach this afternoon," Glorfindel said smoothly before Zach could reply. "Perhaps next week he can join you on your walk. Have a good afternoon, gentlemen."

Alex and Derek nodded, wishing him and Zach the same before they loped off to join the other students now exiting the building in search of their bus. Zach gave Glorfindel a puzzled look. "What was that all about?"

Glorfindel put an arm around the young man’s shoulders as they walked back inside. "You know I never do anything without a reason."

"And what reason did you have in insisting that Alex and Derek come admire Caleb’s new clothes?"

Instead of answering, Glorfindel led Zach into the small reading room where they found Daeron ensconced in an easy chair, idly plucking on one of his smaller harps, a distant look in his eyes that alerted them that the minstrel was hard at work composing. Glorfindel put a finger to his lips and gave Zach a knowing smile as they found their own seats, quietly waiting for Daeron to acknowledge them. A moment later, the loremaster’s eyes became more focused and he gave them a brief smile.

"Done with lunch?" he asked as he put the harp on the table next to him "Shall we get on with it, then?"

"Get on with what?" Zach asked in confusion. "What’s this all about?"

Glorfindel gave Zach a serious look. "Tell us what you think of Alex," he said.

For a moment Zach sat there with a frown on his face as the two Elves looked on impassively. "I don’t understand this... this fascination with Alex Grant," he finally said. "You’ve never displayed such interest in any one student before."

"We have our reasons, Zach," Daeron said before Glorfindel responded. "Please believe me when I say that we do not wish any harm to Alex."

"I do believe you," Zach said sincerely and the two Elves knew that he meant it.

"So tell us your thoughts about Alex," Glorfindel commanded.

"He’s friendly enough, I suppose," Zach answered with a shrug. "From what I’ve heard and seen, he appears to be less confrontational and willing enough to do what is asked of him, but...."

"Go on," Glorfindel said encouragingly. "Do not hesitate to say what you feel. It’s very important that we know."

"Sometimes... and maybe it’s just me... but sometimes, I almost feel as if there are two different Alexes."

"How do you mean?" Daeron asked, his eyes brightening with curiosity.

Zach shrugged. "Not really sure. It’s almost as if there are two different people inside him. One is the student, personable and friendly, but the other... frankly, the other scares me."

Both Elves started at that revelation. Glorfindel leaned forward to put a comforting hand on Zach’s arm. "Scares you how, Zach? Has he done anything...."

"No. No. It’s nothing he’s done," Zach assured them. "It’s... I can’t really describe it. We’ll be talking and laughing and then all of a sudden he’d ask a question that had nothing to do with what we were talking about and the way he asked it seemed more calculating than curious, if you know what I mean."

"What sort of questions?" Glorfindel demanded quietly.

"Most of them seem to be about Amroth and Nimrodel," Zach answered. "How long did they know each other? Were they married? When did they first meet? That sort of thing."

"What do you tell him?" Daeron asked.

"I just tell him that if he needs to know he should ask them, and then he backs off and he’s Alex again. He’s been asking about Edhellond, too. Oh, not by that name. He gave me a description of the house, telling me he came across it while on a walk, and then he told me about some kid he met who told him that Elves lived there. He wanted to know what the kid meant by that."

"And you told him what?" Glorfindel enquired, his expression unreadable.

"Oh, I just said the kid was having him on. I explained that some of the teachers from the Academy lived there and he seemed to accept that and let it go, but I could tell he wasn’t satisfied with my answer."

"It’s true enough as far as it goes," Daeron said with a smile. "You did well, Zach. We’re not here to lay blame for anything that may be said. We’re trying to decide what is best for all concerned, including Alex."

"You said sometimes Alex scared you," Glorfindel interjected. "Can you give more examples of when that happens?"

"Wednesday afternoon, you asked me to find Amroth and relay a message to him." Glorfindel nodded encouragingly and Zach continued. "Yes, well, I met Amroth in the corridor outside the gym just before he was going to go in to teach the unarmed defense class. As we were talking, I happened to notice Alex coming out of the men’s locker room and he just stood there when he saw us. Amroth had his back to him so he didn’t see."

"See what?" Glorfindel demanded when Zach hesitated.

"His expression. It went suddenly cold, cold and... and dark. It was only for a second or two and then it was gone. Amroth... maybe he noticed the shock in my eyes or maybe he felt Alex’s enmity from down the hall, but when he turned to look, Alex’s expression was bland. He gave us a greeting as he walked by us on his way to the fencing class. I saw Amroth’s eyes as he watched Alex walk away. There was something dark in them as well."

For a moment, neither Elf spoke and Zach sat there looking miserable and confused. Finally Glorfindel stirred and gave his young assistant a warm smile. "Alex is a very troubled young man and we’re trying to help him. I’m sorry if some of his actions scare you, Zach, but I hope you will continue being his friend. He needs one even if he’s unaware of it. Derek is also his friend, but Derek doesn’t know us well enough to trust us with anything concerning Alex."

"So you’ve sent me to... to be a spy?" Zach asked in hurt confusion.

"No, Zach," Daeron assured him. "We’re not asking you to spy on Alex. We’re asking you to continue being his friend. But understand, we have the entire safety of the Academy, indeed of all Wiseman, to consider and Alex... well, Alex can be a potential problem given his earlier actions. Glorfindel and I feel that you can help him."

"As a friend," Zach insisted.

"As a friend," Glorfindel echoed with a nod.

"I can do that. What about the others? Maybe Shane or Jud can help as well."

"We’d like to keep this on a more one-to-one basis for now," Daeron said smoothly. "Let Alex become comfortable with you, let him get comfortable with being here at all before we throw him to the wolves."

"Hey! Not fair!" Glorfindel protested.

Daeron smiled. "A slip of the tongue, sorry." He winked at Zach and the young man grinned.

"Well, if that’s all...." Zach said standing up.

"For now," Glorfindel said. "Thank you. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?"

Zach nodded and then left. For a while Glorfindel and Daeron sat in silence, each with his own thoughts. Finally, Daeron stirred, picking up the harp from the table and strumming it.

"We’re playing a dangerous game," he said, not looking at Glorfindel. "Amroth needs to deal with this now. I do not understand his reluctance... or yours."

"Yet, ultimately, it’s his call. I will not force him to confront Alex. Amroth may acknowledge me as our leader, but he is a king in his own right. In fact, he outranks all of us, including me."

"He is a king without a kingdom," Daeron protested with a snort of disgust. "Of us all, I am the eldest. By rights, leadership should fall upon my shoulders, yet I prefer to act as your lieutenant. I know Amroth has accepted you as our leader in all things because you are the most powerful of us all, so why do you not press him to deal with Alex now before something happens that we’ll all regret?"

"It is true that I have the power to force Amroth into a decision, but I have not the right. Not even the Belain have that right. We’ll have to let him call the shots."

"Unless Alex makes a move first," Daeron said darkly, "and innocents can be harmed as a result."

"We will have to see that that doesn’t happen," Glorfindel insisted, rising from his seat.

"From your lips to the Belain’s ears," Daeron retorted with a snort. Glorfindel laughed. "For what it’s worth," the minstrel pressed, still looking troubled, "my advice to you is not to wait too long on this. Alex has to be dealt with sooner rather than later."

Glorfindel sighed, his expression equally troubled. "I’ll see you at dinner?" he asked, not quite willing to agree with Daeron’s assessment just yet.

Daeron visibly bit back what he was about to say and took a deep breath, pausing before letting it out. "Yes, I’ll be there," he said quietly, not quite looking at the golden-haired Elf-lord.

Glorfindel could tell that Daeron wasn’t very happy with him at the moment but did not know what else he could do or say to make things better, so he said nothing as he made his way out of the room. After Glorfindel left, Daeron sat for the longest time in utter silence. Finally he sighed, shaking his head as he went back to composing, but his heart was no longer in it. After a few minutes when nothing would come he gave it up as a lost cause and decided to take a long walk in the woods before dinner.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Ci mae?: ‘You are well?’

Mae govannen na gi: "Well met to you’.

Ni maer. A chi?: I am fine. And you?"

Naneth: Mother. Nana is the hypocoristic form.

Ellyn: Plural of ellon: Male Elf.

Ellith: Plural of elleth: Female Elf.

Aníreg cened i-chammad ’wain nîn?: ‘Do you want to see my new clothes?’, literally: ‘Desire/wish you for seeing the new clothing of mine’.

iChammad ’wain gîn: ‘Your new clothes’, literally; ‘The new clothing of yours’.

Note: The Grigori or Watchers were a class of angels sent by God to teach primitive humans certain arts of civilization and to watch over their progress. Some, however, taught forbidden subjects and mated with Mortal women, for which they were punished. Their offspring were known as the Nephilim, usually translated as ‘giants’, but the actual meaning from the original Hebrew is ‘those who were cast down’. They are mentioned briefly in Genesis 6 as one of the chief reasons for God sending the Flood.

11: Decision

Alex sat in the bus ignoring the talk around him. He stared out the window but did not really see the scenery. He was too lost in his own thoughts to bother. He was still trying to come to grips with what had happened Tuesday night at the bar. Even as he dutifully attended the classes or the field trips, his mind kept wandering back to that night. He couldn’t get the image of Ambrose and Della out of his mind, cast as they were in the leading role of that last song Darren Harper had sung. At least, that was his assumption, since he actually had no idea what the man was singing. Yet, the story that seemed to come before his eyes had felt so real, more vivid than any dream or daydream he’d ever had.

Even now, several days later, he could almost smell the sea salt in the air and feel the wind brushing his hair. And every once in a while he caught himself humming, or trying to hum, one of the tunes he’d heard that night. The music still haunted him and once he woke from a sound sleep convinced that someone was playing the same music outside his window, which was absurd, for his room was on the third floor and the window was shut tight with the black-out shade pulled down, for the sun still ruled the night skies.

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the seat.

And if that wasn’t enough, there was Loren DelaFiore. The last thing he’d expected was having lunch with the man. More surprising was the little boy, happily chattering in that stupid made up language and Zach even corrected him! It made no sense. And this nom d’elf business! Really!

"I think he was a king or something."

Alex opened his eyes to see Derek staring at him.

"Excuse me?"

Derek grinned. "You just asked who Finrod was and I said he was a king."

Alex grimaced. Had he been thinking out loud? That would never do. He gave himself a mental shake. "And you know this how?"

Derek’s grin grew wider. "I’ve been reading ahead in the history book," he admitted. "If I remember correctly, he was the king of some place called Nagor-something. Can’t remember exactly. He got eaten by a werewolf."

Alex felt his eyebrows leave his forehead. "Eaten by a werewolf? Are you serious? This is what they call history?" He shook his head in disbelief and turned back to the window. He felt more than saw Derek shrug.

"Hey! I’m only telling you what I read. Anyway, forget about history. You want to take that orange trail Loren recommended?"

Alex gave a shrug. "It’s as good a choice as any, I suppose. Zach said he enjoyed it and so did Mrs. Lord."

"I didn’t notice a ring on her finger," Derek said. "She may not be a missus."

"She’s got kids."

"So? Maybe the husband is out of the picture."

"And why are we suddenly interested in whether or not she’s available?" Alex couldn’t help asking, giving Derek a leer.

"Hey! Don’t look at me. You’re the one who’s eyes went all glowy at the sight of her."

"What?"

Derek nodded, giving him a sly look. "I know when a man’s been stricken by the beauty of a woman. I’m not blind, you know."

Alex just stared at his friend in disbelief. Of course he had admired the woman, who looked to be in her mid-thirties. She was quite beautiful and if her husband, assuming she had one, had done a bunk on her, he was a bloody fool. But that didn’t mean he’d fallen for her. In his line of work, such emotional entanglements were dangerous, both for him and for the woman. He’d been very careful about that.

"My eyes were not glowy," he protested with a snort of disgust. "You just had the sun in your eyes, is all."

"If you say so," Derek replied with a smirk.

"Can we change the subject?" Alex demanded and Derek was mature enough and wise enough to leave off the teasing.

"You were pretty good in the Sindarin class today," he said by way of apology. "I was impressed with how well you got what Gil was saying about accusatives and datives."

Alex gave him a startled look, not expecting the praise. "I’ve always been good with languages. That’s why I was a translator."

"So how many languages can you speak?"

"Fluently? Well, not including English, which my mom insists I don’t speak," he gave Derek a wry look and his roommate laughed, "I guess five or six and I can make myself understood in maybe three more."

Derek whistled in appreciation. "And I thought I was doing well to be able to speak Spanish and Japanese."

"It’s more than most Americans can do," Alex said with a grin.

Their conversation was interrupted by the bus arriving at the national park entrance and they were too busy getting organized for their walk to do much talking. A number of other students were also walking the orange trail. Derek seemed to know some of them but Alex did not. Introductions were made and they set off.

Almost as soon as he stepped on the trail, he felt a sense of calm and peace seep into him. When he walked under the trees and breathed in their piney scent, he felt refreshed and all the doubts and uncertainties cluttering his soul fell away. By the time they finished the walk, he was smiling and quietly engaged in conversation with a couple of the other students who were also from back East, comparing notes and becoming friends. He allowed himself to be Alex and Artemus and his mission were shunted aside for a time.

And this time, once dinner was over with, he stayed for the movie, which turned out to be "Sister Act" with Whoopi Goldberg. At first, Alex felt uncomfortable, seeing Whoopi’s character hiding in the convent pretending to be someone she wasn’t. It was a bit too close to home. But then he shrugged, deciding there was no ulterior message to the film aimed at him, and sat back to enjoy Whoopi’s performance. Still, at the end, he felt a sense of sadness steal over him. Whoopi’s character had found friendship and acceptance among the other nuns and she’d found a whole new purpose for her life. Looking around at his fellow students, laughing and joking and enjoying each other’s company, he realized that however much he might wish it otherwise, he was and always would be an outsider, living on the fringes of normal life. Espionage was a lonely business but, for the first time in his life, he knew himself to be lonely and resented it.

When Derek mentioned going with some of their friends to play cards in the game room, Alex declined, stating that all that fresh air earlier had tired him out and he wanted to get a good night’s rest. Bidding the others goodnight, he made his way to his room. When he got there he found a fat manila envelope leaning against the door.

Picking it up he saw his nom d’guerre scrawled across it and with a sinking feeling ceased to be Alex Grant and became once again Artemus Gordon Meriwether. After securing the door and turning on the light, he crossed to his desk, slitting the envelope open as he sat, drawing out several sheets of paper and some photos. As he suspected, the papers contained all the information the Agency had been able to gather on the people running the Academy. Maddy had had her people gathering the information during the intervening months before he left for Alaska and this was the result. He already knew something about each of the people running the Academy, but not every detail.

He shifted through the papers, rapidly reading, until he found the one on Loren DelaFiore. No record of birth or parentage. No known relatives. Last residence was in California where he worked in Search and Rescue. Alex stared at the date on which Loren supposedly began working in SAR and blinked.

No, that was impossible. There had to be a mistake. Maybe there’d been another Loren DelaFiore back then, perhaps a father. That would make sense — a son bearing his father’s name and going into the same line of work. And yet...

He glanced through the rest of the pages, noticing the discrepancies. Dates too early or too late. None of the people who’d been photographed seemed to have parents or family of any sort. Roy and Dan Ronaldson.... Gil Winters... Ron and Holly Brightman... Sarah... their daughter? He flipped back to re-read the information on the Brightmans. Again no record of marriage or a birth certificate for Sarah. So why is she their daughter and not Holly’s sister as he’d assumed?

He sighed in frustration. The information before him, or lack thereof, was next to useless. It was obvious that whoever put this packet together had no clue as to what they were looking at. They were just collectors of information. It was up to him to determine what it all meant and at the moment it meant nothing but more questions.

He put the papers down for the moment and picked up the photos which were paper-clipped together with a note attached. It read: ‘Ran a global photo identification scan. The computer came up with these’. Unclipping the photos, he glanced at the first one. It was a group shot in black and white, a bit grainy but the people were clearly identifiable. He stared at it for the longest time in disbelief. No... this couldn’t be. He looked on the back of the photo where someone had written a brief description of the scene and the people in it. Drawing the desk lamp closer for better illumination he studied the picture in greater depth.

There could be no mistake. It was definitely Loren DelaFiore or his twin brother and on either side of him were Roy and Dan, though he could not have said who was who. That, in and of itself, was not the problem. The problem was where the photo had been taken and when. The three were in uniform, wearing Red Cross bands on their arms. They were obviously part of a military medical corps. The problem was, the uniforms were too early. He could almost allow that they might have been involved in the Gulf War back in the nineties, but these uniforms were all wrong. He knew enough of military history to know that.

No, these uniforms were not of today’s army. According to this photograph, Loren, Dan and Roy had been part of the army medical corps back in the Second World War, nearly seventy years before. The photo was taken, according to the description on the back, in 1944 in France.

He looked at the next photo. It showed the person he knew as Barry Underwood, whom he knew was one of the other Sindarin teachers. Again it was a group shot but this time Barry was the only recognizable person in the picture. It, too, was in black and white and the people in it wore costumes of a much earlier period. From the woman’s dress, he would say somewhere in the early 20's of the last century. Looking at the description on the back, Alex wasn’t too surprised to read: ‘Egypt: Valley of the Kings, January 1923, Howard Carter, Lord Carnarvon, Lady Evelyn Herbert....’

Alex ceased to read the other names of the people in the photo. Valley of the Kings? Howard Carter? God, this must be when Carter found King Tut’s tomb! He looked again at the photo, opening a drawer in the desk and pulling out a magnifying glass and another manila envelope in which were copies of the photos sent to the Agency. He rummaged through them until he found Barry’s photo, then placed it next to the one showing Carter’s expedition. He was ready to accept that the person standing next to Lady Evelyn was perhaps Barry’s grandfather, but the similarities between the two photos were too close. Only identical twins would have the exact same features. If Barry Underwood was a descendant of the man in the photo his features may have been similar but could not have been exactly the same. Underwood’s genetic makeup would include characteristics from his mother’s side of the family. So unless cloning of humans had been possible in 1923....

Glancing at the back of the photo again he ran down the names listed. Bartholomew Woods. Well it was close to Barry Underwood. Not having an answer as to how Barry Underwood and Bartholomew Woods could be one and the same person he started to look at the other two photos when he heard a key in the door and with one swift motion, he pushed everything in the drawer, then grabbed the history textbook and opened it randomly, pretending to read. He only vaguely saw that he’d opened it to a chapter entitled, ‘The Founding of Nargothrond and Gondolin’ before he looked up as Derek entered the room.

"Hey, I thought you’d be sleeping by now," Derek said.

"Me, too, but for some perverse reason my body decided to wake up again, so I decided to read." He closed the book. "You weren’t long. I thought you were playing cards."

"I was, but for some reason, I couldn’t concentrate and kept making stupid calls. Decided I’d had enough humiliation for one night and left the others still laughing at my dismal playing abilities." He flashed him a wry grin and Alex returned it.

"Well, I guess we should both try to sleep then," he said. He stood and leaned towards the window to pull the black-out shade all the way down. "Still can’t get used to having the sun still up when I’m ready to fall into bed."

Derek chuckled. "Just wait a few months and then you’ll have the opposite problem."

Alex nodded and ten minutes later they were turning off the light. Derek was quietly snoring a few minutes after that but Alex lay there staring up at the ceiling thinking about the people in the photos, wondering how they could possibly be the same people in the here and now. He did not remember falling asleep but he remembered dreaming of Egypt and finding King Tut’s tomb.

****

Alex woke to see that it was only four-thirty. Derek was still sound asleep. Sometime in the night in the midst of his dreams he had come to a decision and it was time to put it into action. He quietly gathered his things together and went to take a shower. Coming back to the room, he scribbled a note, letting his roommate know he was going into town, and then left, but not before he took out a small case from the bottom drawer of his dresser and slipped it into a messenger bag, which he took with him. He met no one along the way as he exited the campus. Stopping at a Dunkin’ Donuts that had just opened, he ordered an egg sandwich and a cup of coffee, then continued on his way, making towards the mansion he’d discovered on his last walk into town.

When he reached his destination, he walked more slowly, taking in every detail. There were few other houses here and the grounds surrounding the house were fairly extensive, bordered by a stone wall that was only chest high, though it was topped by a wrought-iron fence with spikes that would deter all but the most determined intruder. The entrance was gated, but he noticed the gate was open and he thought perhaps it was never closed. He stood indecisively for a moment and then, stealing a glance around to see if he was alone, slipped inside the gate and made his way to the left, using some trees as cover. He should have been doing this at night, but that would’ve meant coming out here at two in the morning, which was about when it got dark enough to be considered dark and he wouldn’t have had much time for the sky would’ve been lightning up by three. He figured, this early in the morning on a Saturday, everyone would be sleeping in.

He walked the perimeter of the grounds, keeping to the cover of trees of which there were plenty, taking an inventory of the house, noting the number of windows and doors. While the front lawn was carefully manicured and fairly open with flower beds artistically placed, the back was a different story. He gave a low whistle at the profusion of flowers and trees. There wasn’t a speck of grass anywhere that he could see. A crushed-stone path wended its way through the garden and there was an open area where patio furniture was laid out surrounding what looked to be a fire pit.

Glancing up at the house, he saw the windows were all shuttered and he assumed that its inhabitants still slept. Carefully stepping through the garden, keeping as close to the wall as possible, he worked his way around to continue his surveillance, memorizing as best he could the layout of the place. Once he was satisfied that he knew where every exit was, he hunkered down between two trees, screened from the house by a large flowering bush and thought things through.

It would be impossible for him to enter the house without knowing the layout inside or the number of people who lived there. He could find an excuse to get inside the house if needed but he thought it safer not to try just yet. So, the outside would have to do. From the look of things, the back garden appeared to be a popular gathering place. He had noticed that the fire pit was full of ashes. This was probably as good as it was going to get for him. Opening the messenger bag, he slipped the small case out. It was about the size of a paperback, but thinner. Inset on the lid was a small keypad. He quickly keyed in the code that unlocked the case, hearing a satisfying click. Opening it, he carefully examined its contents, finally choosing two of the smaller electronic bugs, closing the case and shoving it back into the bag. Looking around, he could see a small table near the fire pit. Sidling carefully around the tree hiding him from the house, he crept over to the table and planted the bug underneath it.

He was about to try to plant the second bug in another location when the sound of a door opening caused him to freeze. He could hear someone speaking but couldn’t make out the words, nor could he see who it was. The voice did not get any closer and the door shut, leaving him in silence once again. He counted slowly to twenty before he dared move, listening with all his might for any sign that another was in the garden with him. Birds sang in the trees and the wind rustled through the garden but he detected no other movement. Deciding to cut his losses, he slipped the second bug in his pocket and sidled back to where he’d been hiding before, meaning to pick up his bag and maybe see if he could climb the back wall and make his escape. He had a feeling going out the front gate was no longer an option for him.

He retrieved the bag and, keeping low, headed back to the wall and began climbing it. The spikes topping the wrought-iron fence were lethal looking and would deter most people, but Alex had had experience in getting in and out of places far more fortified than this and was quickly on the other side. Instead of someone’s backyard he found himself in a small meadow with dark trees bordering it on the other side. He did not move immediately, but pulled out the case again and upon opening it, brought out what appeared to be an iPad or Blackberry but was more sophisticated than either. There was a small keypad below a screen. He punched in a code and an icon of a scarab beetle appeared on the screen. Keying in additional commands, he watched in satisfaction as the icon began glowing, telling him that it was now linked to the bug he’d planted.

The range was not far and he wouldn’t be able to take the device with him. He would have to plant it somewhere safe where it could be easily retrieved. Walking along the wall, keeping one eye on the icon to see if it still glowed and keeping the other eye out for a suitable hiding place, he was nearly back to the road when he noticed that part of the wall was crumbling and there was a section that was not as smooth as the rest. Examining it closely, he dug some of the loose stone and mortar away until there was an indented area just wide enough to shove the transceiver in where it would not move. Stepping away, he smiled in satisfaction. Unless one was looking directly at it, you could not see the hole he’d made.

Wiping the stone dust off his hands, he continued back to the road, being careful to check to see if anyone was about. The street was empty. Deciding to make the lie a truth, he turned right and headed down the street towards Kodiak, which would lead into town. Maybe he would do a bit of shopping before returning to the college. He walked in a nonchalant manner, his hands in his pockets, satisfied with himself, snickering at the thought of buying a postcard and sending it to Maddy with the typical ‘Wish you were here’ message. He could well imagine what the D.D.’s reaction to that would be.

Feeling happy and secure with himself for the first time since arriving in Wiseman, he began whistling a spritely tune, unaware that everything he’d done in planting the bug had been quietly noted.

****

Note: Howard Carter discovered King Tut’s tomb in November 1922 but did not reach the inner chamber until the following February. Until then, he and his crew were busy cataloguing the items found in the antechamber. Lady Evelyn was Lord Carnarvon’s daughter and accompanied her father when Carter summoned him to the tomb.

12: The ACCU Invades

Glorfindel bent down to look underneath the table.

"Don’t touch it," Amroth warned, speaking in Sindarin.

Glorfindel shook his head as he stood up. "Tiny little bugger isn’t it?" he said cheerfully in the same languge and Elrohir, standing next to him groaned while Amroth merely chuckled.

"And they get tinier every year, it seems," Amroth said, motioning the other two away from the table.

"Range?" Elrohir asked, also speaking Sindarin.

"Not sure," Amroth answered, "but my guess is that it can pick up conversations within the house as well as outside."

"Is this the only one?" Glorfindel asked.

Elrohir nodded. "I only saw him plant that one. He climbed the back wall and pulled out something that looked like a Blackberry."

"The transceiver," Amroth said authoritatively. "It probably has a microchip that is recording everything we say. With computer chips being what they are, it’ll not run out of memory soon. He will no doubt come by periodically to download the conversations to listen to later. He wouldn’t even have to come near it. He just has to be in the vicinity and he will be able to pick up its signal. I suspect he has another gadget that will allow him to do so at a distance."

"He’s going to be very disappointed when he listens to the conversations," Glorfindel said with a feral grin. "As of now we speak only Sindarin. Alert our Mortal friends. Most have a good enough command of Sindarin that they shouldn’t have a problem."

"What reason do we give?" Elrohir asked.

"They’re already used to speaking it when we are in council. I don’t see where they will wonder why we speak it all the time. If any ask just say we Elves feel they need more practice in speaking it and leave it at that."

Elrohir nodded, then asked a different question, directing it to Amroth. "Do you think he’s bugging the Academy?"

"Possibly. We’ll just have to be careful what we say there," Amroth answered with a slight frown. "I can go through it over the weekend to see if I can find them."

"And we’re just going to leave that where it is?" Elrohir demanded, pointing at the table.

"It’s important that he doesn’t know we’re on to him. At least not yet," Glorfindel replied. "Do we know who sent them the photos in the first place, yet?"

Amroth shook his head. "Obviously someone with access to us on a regular basis."

"So someone from the college," Elrohir stated.

"Or from the town," Glorfindel pointed out. "There are a few people who have no love for us."

"Yet, the question remains: who knows enough about the Agency to have sent those photos to Madison Washburn?" Amroth insisted.

"Well, we’re looking at one of them right now," Glorfindel said with a smile.

"Besides me," Amroth retorted with a roll of his eyes. Glorfindel and Elrohir both sniggered.

"That is the question, isn’t it?" Elrohir said. "It’s not that someone took our photos so much as they took our photos and sent them to a particular person. That means someone who used to work for the Agency."

"Or still does," Glorfindel pointed out.

"And what would an agent be doing here in the first place?" Elrohir shot back.

"Could’ve been on vacation," Glorfindel replied with a shrug. "It matters not. It only matters that someone took our pictures and sent them to a government agency that deals with terrorism and other global threats."

"And that brings us back to one Alex Grant, a.k.a. Artemus Gordon Meriwether," Elrohir said pointedly, looking directly at Amroth. "I actually like him. He’s not evil though a darkness lies upon his soul. How long are we going to pretend we don’t know who he really is?"

"It’s early yet," Glorfindel answered before Amroth could speak. "But I agree that we shouldn’t wait too long."

"He needs to make the first move," Amroth said with a shake of his head.

"And that thing recording everything we’re saying isn’t?" Elrohir retorted.

"No," Amroth replied firmly. "Quite frankly, I’m rather disappointed in my former student. He’s being very sloppy and unprofessional."

Glorfindel cast him an amused look. "He’s still very young even by Mortal standards and you know full well that he’s being worked on by others."

"You mean the Belain," Amroth said, giving him a shrewd look.

Glorfindel nodded. "Or the Maiar. I’ve sensed their presence on more than one occasion though they have not revealed themselves to me. I have no doubt that they are subtly influencing our young spy."

"To what end?" Elrohir asked.

"To bring him to a point where he realizes that all that he has thought was true isn’t. Until then there’s not much we can do. If we move too soon we may end up in a worse situation than we are now."

"And if we move too late, someone could get hurt," Elrohir pointed out.

"A risk we must take," Glorfindel said.

"I’ll remind you of your words when I’m comforting one of our friends because someone among us has been hurt or killed," Elrohir retorted with a grimace, walking away in disgust, not willing to listen to his elders’ excuses anymore.

Glorfindel and Amroth watched the younger ellon go into the house. "He’s right, you know," Amroth said.

"Daeron thinks we should confront Alex now rather than later."

"And you agree with him?"

"I told him it was your call. You’re the reason he’s here, more than anything else. We don’t know how much this Agency of yours knows about us, but we do know that he’s here to find out why you are still alive. Couldn’t you have arranged your death a little better?"

Amroth snorted. "I disappeared for fifteen years. It was just bad luck that someone took my photo and sent it to the Agency where I’d once worked."

"Bad luck or something else," Glorfindel said with a raised eyebrow.

Amroth gave him a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, someone wanted one Artemus Gordon Meriwether to come here. He would not have had a reason to unless it was given to him."

"Meaning me."

Glorfindel nodded. "The arms of the Belain are very long," he said. "I have to go. I’m late for my Quenya class. Let everyone know that English or any other Mortal language is no longer allowed inside these walls."

Amroth nodded and Glorfindel gave him a sympathetic look. "It’s going to work out, Amroth. I have every faith that it will be so."

"As do I," Amroth said, but his expression was still doubtful.

****

Amroth reported to the others later that evening as they gathered for dinner. "As far as I can tell, there are no bugs anywhere in any of our offices but I would advise caution nonetheless."

Glorfindel nodded. "We must be cautious anyway, especially during the next couple of weeks. Marian has informed me that the accreditation committee will be here on Monday. So, begin implementing whatever changes to the curriculum you’ve planned to convince these people that we’re on the up-and-up."

"But aren’t we?" Elladan asked with a lift of an eyebrow.

"Yes, we are," Glorfindel said, "but we need this accreditation so let’s not draw attention to the fact that there are such things as Elves in the world."

"What about the rest of the college?" Mithrellas asked. "How do we control what others say?"

"We don’t," Glorfindel answered. "However, the committee members are only going to be dealing with us and the college administration and their point of contact between the two groups will be Marian." He gave them a significant look and there were knowing smiles all around. Marian Goodfellow was firmly on the side of the Elves and was a fierce protector of their interests.

"So what about our Ethir neth?" Vorondur asked, using the phrase they had agreed upon to describe Alex without having to mention his name.

"He’s Amroth’s concern," Glorfindel said decisively. "We are to continue treating him as we have. He is not to know that we know who he really is."

There was a general sigh of discontent throughout the room. "I know it’s difficult and I know some of you want to throttle either him or Amroth or even me because of what you see as indecisiveness on our part, but ultimately we need him on our side. If we move too soon, we could lose him and things could go badly for us."

"You know I disagree with you there," Daeron said, "but you are our lord and so we will obey you in this, but if any of our Mortal friends are harmed by this decision not to confront our Ethir neth now instead of later all bets are off, as the Mortals say."

Glorfindel nodded. "I would expect no less. Now tell me what you all have decided to do with your classes while the accreditation committee is here."

****

When Gil entered his Sindarin class, he was not too surprised to see a stranger there waiting for him. He was an older man in his late forties or early fifties with short blond hair and blue eyes that looked out upon the world myopically behind glasses who introduced himself as Mark Farrell.

"Please pretend that I am not here and conduct your class as usual," the man said. "I am merely an observer. I understand this is a language class."

Gil nodded. "Yes. We’re teaching our students the proper way to address the clients in keeping with their personae as Elves."

Farrell nodded and indicated that he would sit in the back. As students entered and took their seats, most of them stared at the newcomer, some of them with frowns, not knowing who he was. Gil took a moment to introduce Farrell to the class, stating only that he was here to observe Gil’s teaching style.

"Right then," he said. "I thought we would take a break from the grammar lessons and practice what we’ve been learning. Who can tell me all the ways in which an Elf can greet someone? Alex, what’s one phrase?"

"Uh... mae govannen," Alex answered readily enough. Gil wrote the words on the board.

"And that means what? Everyone."

"Well met," the entire class chanted. Gil nodded in satisfaction, then pointed to one of the young women. "Michelle, give me another phrase."

"Aur maer?" she said hesitantly.

"Close," Gil said. "You’re forgetting something."

"Oh...the mutation. It’s ‘aur vaer’ and it means ‘good morning’."

"Very good. Who remembers the traditional Elven greeting? Louis?"

"Gil híla... um... erin lû e-govaded mîn... uh no, vîn," the young man answered, stumbling a bit over the phrase.

"Are you sure about that?" Gil couldn’t help asking with an amused smile after he wrote the phrase out and Louis blushed while the rest of the class chuckled though there was nothing malicious about it.

"And what does it mean? Everyone."

"A star shines on the hour of our meeting," the class chimed.

"Very good," Gil said, smiling at the class though he was watching Farrell in the back taking notes and wondering what the Man was thinking. He put his own worries to the side and continued conducting the class, quizzing them on the phrases that they already knew, including how to introduce themselves.

"I still don’t understand why we’re learning these, though," Alex said at one point, though there was nothing confrontational in his tone, just honest confusion. "Can’t we just say ‘hello’? None of the tourists will understand us. They’ll either give us blank stares or start giggling."

"Obviously, you’re not expected to speak Sindarin all the time," Gil answered with a sly smile and the class chuckled. Then his expression became more serious. "Let’s face it. If all the safari companies and resorts wanted were plain old tour guides they would’ve simply recruited people who are already in the tourist industry or are studying tourism in college. But that’s not what they wanted. They wanted people who could take on the personae of Elves during the winter season. In spite of the recent economic downturn, this region is seeing more tourism during the winter months every year. Those who are involved in developing tourism in this region wanted an extra draw and having their tour guides be Elves was one part of it. So, these classes are designed to help you create a believable Elf persona with all the mystique that goes with it, while also teaching you what you need to be professional guides."

Gil was actually pleased that Alex had asked the question, for it had given him the opportunity to explain the raison d’etre for the Sindarin class for the benefit of Mr. Farrell, who was still scribbling away. "So, why don’t we put what we’ve learned so far into practice?" he suggested. "All of you will have Elvish-sounding names before the end of term. In the meantime, for purposes of this class, if you are a male, you will call yourself ‘Sador’ and if female, your name will be ‘Eirien’." He wrote the names on the board. "Get with a partner and take turns introducing yourselves. Try to vary your greetings and try not to look at the board."

For the next several minutes, the class rang with the students mouthing various Sindarin phrases while Gil went around the room, gently correcting mispronunciations. Alex naturally teamed up with Derek and Gil was pleased to see that the young man was willing to do the exercise without question.

"Mae govannen, mellyn nîn, a haur vaer. Gil híla erin lû e-govaded vîn. Im estannen Sador."

"That’s very good, Alex," Gil said with a smile. "You said that without hesitating once."

Alex shrugged. "I’ve always been good with languages and we’ve been saying these phrases all morning."

Gil just smiled. "Let’s hear you, Derek."

"Yessir," he said, then cleared his throat nervously. "Ah... um... mae govannen a dortho ví glass. Im estannen Sador... ah... how do you say ‘your guide?"

Gil told him and Derek repeated it and Alex copied him. When he was satisfied the two men were comfortable with speaking the phrases, Gil moved to the next group, all the while watching Mark Farrell scribbling away.

At the end of class, as the students were filing out the door, Gil was amused to see Alex trying his Sindarin on one of the young women, speaking in a suave manner, obviously using the phrases as pick-up lines. Lucy Barton giggled.

"No dice, sailor," she said.

"Hey! He’s the sailor, not me," Alex protested with his own laugh, pointing at Derek who stuck his tongue out at the two of them. Lucy just giggled some more and the three left together joking between them.

Farrell had stayed behind. "An interesting class," he said to Gil. "So who came up with this language anyway?"

"Ah, I guess you could say it was a group effort," Gil answered with a smile and then bid the Man a good day, leaving Farrell to his own devices.

****

Throughout the week the students saw several people sitting in on the classes. None of the strangers importuned the students during this time nor was it something they normally would have done anyway. Their main focus was on the administration and teaching staff and their main concern was that the students were receiving the proper education that would see them gainfully employed at the end of their studies. Glorfindel and Marian, along with Daeron, spent the most time with the committee, reviewing the questionnaire and explaining certain aspects of the curriculum.

"I’m still not sure why this emphasis on archery, fencing and martial arts," Mark Farrell said to Glorfindel, "especially when the other students at the college are allowed to choose whatever phys. ed. classes they wish."

Glorfindel nodded. "True, but when we established this Academy, it was decided to limit those classes for our students. Archery and fencing are very traditional sports and indeed originally they were not sports at all but part of weapons training in medieval warfare, though fencing actually is derived from the older sword fighting. We felt that in taking these particular classes our students would be able to slip into the medieval mindset more easily as they build up their Elf personae."

"And the martial arts?" one of the women from the committee asked.

"It’s actually a self-defense class," Glorfindel answered. "We have more women than men in our classes and given the times in which we live, we felt it prudent to teach all our students some self-defense moves for their own protection and the protection of their clients, especially the children."

There were nods all around. Then Farrell, who appeared to be the head of the committee, went on to another point, addressing Glorfindel. "It is our understanding that most of the administrative and teaching personnel were not originally recruited when the Academy first opened. In point of fact, I believe several were students in that first class, including yourself and Mr. Harper. Tell us, if you would, Mr. DelaFiore, what qualifications you bring to this college that allow you to be the administrative head of the Academy when previously Ms Goodfellow held that position."

Farrell leaned back in his chair, smiling slightly with an air about him as if he couldn’t wait to hear what lies were about to be told him. Glorfindel glanced at Daeron and Marian, the loremaster staring impassively at Farrell while Marian went pale. He turned his attention to Farrell and the other committee members and smiled an easy smile. "I have held administrative posts in previous jobs though admittedly not in a college setting. Should I tell you about them?" he asked rhetorically, then launched into a litany of his past experiences, producing documentation to prove his point, for he and the others had anticipated the possibility that such a question would arise and all the Elves had gathered what documentation they felt relevant in case they were asked about their own credentials.

By the time Glorfindel was finished with his resumé Farrell and the others were staring at him in disbelief. "You’re far too young to have done all that, young man," one of the older women said.

Glorfindel smiled. "I am older than I look," and left it at that. Farrell shuffled through the documents Glorfindel had given him, frowning as he read them, obviously trying to find something that he could use to discredit the man sitting before him, but with a frustrated sigh he handed the documents back to Glorfindel.

"They seem to be legitimate," he reluctantly averred.

"And they are," Glorfindel said smoothly. "And now I see that our time is up, for Mr. Harper and I have classes to teach."

"You don’t teach any classes here at the Academy," someone stated.

"No. We offer non-credit classes to the townspeople as part of the Adult Continuing Education department of the college," Glorfindel replied. "Darren is a musician and offers classes in music theory and composition for those interested in such things. I teach a class in wilderness survival and am often asked to give talks on the subject to the various scout groups in the area."

With that, Glorfindel bid Farrell and the others a good day and left with Daeron, leaving Marian to continue acting as hostess.

****

Alex noted the various strangers walking the halls of the Academy, sitting in the various classrooms, studiously ignoring the students, and automatically catalogued their every movement, memorizing faces and, when possible, their names. He noticed that Farrell seemed to appear in every one of his own classes, even going so far as to accompany them on their field trips and sitting in the cafeteria while Alex and his classmates studied the fine art of making snickerdoodles and marzapan. In a fit of mischief, he put together a small plate of the goodies that had been made that day and took them over to Farrell, giving him a toothsome grin as he set the plate in front of the bemused looking man. Derek grinned at him as he returned to their workstation to help clean up but didn’t say a word.

Since there would be no lunch offered at the cafeteria, Alex decided to skip it altogether even though Derek and some others were going into town to have lunch. He made his excuses, saying he would see them in the afternoon for fencing, then made his way out, heading in a direction opposite the one Derek and the others would take to reach the town, cutting across campus until he was on a side street that would take him down towards the mansion. He’d already pocketed the iPad-like gadget that would allow him to download the conversations already stored in the transceiver. Reaching his destination, he pulled out the device and stuck earbuds into his ears as he sauntered past the mansion, looking for all the world as if he were simply walking, listening to his favorite music. Instead, he fiddled with the device until he found the signal and hit the command button to download. He walked slowly so as to remain in range. The download icon turned green, signaling that the download had been successful and he opened another icon to allow himself to listen to the conversations.

"Avo lepto..."

Alex listened with growing disbelief as he heard absolute gibberish. He recognized Ambrose’s voice and Loren’s and suspected the third person was one of the twins, but he wasn’t sure which. He muttered in disgust as he checked the time stamp on the file and scanned to a later time, stopping to listen again. Now there were female voices along with male voices and not a word of English among them. He thought he recognized one or two words but they were speaking so rapidly he wasn’t sure. Closing down the file, he sighed, taking the earbuds out of his ears and shoving the gadget back into a pocket.

Useless. The bug was entirely useless. Either they were on to him or behind those walls no English was spoken. How were these people able to communicate so fluently in a language that he was still convinced was invented? He frowned, standing there in deep thought. Perhaps it wasn’t invented....

That thought startled him. Or rather, it was invented, like Esperanto. He knew there were plenty of Esperanto speakers though he himself did not speak it. And there were other such artificial languages running about so why not this one? Still...

He shook his head in disgust and continued on, deciding to grab a quick bite at the local MacDonald’s and get back to the college for his fencing class. Obviously, he was not going to learn anything from listening in on the conversations. He didn’t have enough command of the language yet to even make a stab at translating what he was hearing. He would return later to retrieve the transceiver.

He returned to the college and was on his way to his room to change into sweats, preferring to wear loose-fitting clothing for the fencing class. He was about to climb the stairs when Mark Farrell appeared at the door to the reading room.

"Ah, Mr. Grant. Just the person I wished to see. Would you like to step into the library for a chat?"

"And why would I want to do that?" Alex asked in annoyance. "I have a class to get to and I’m running late."

"This will only take a few minutes, Mr. Grant," the man said mildly.

"Sorry, but you’ll have to catch me another time," Alex retorted as he climbed the stairs, not in the mood to be polite. He was halfway to the second floor when Farrell’s next words stopped him cold.

"It’s snowing in Moscow I understand."

The very incongruence of the statement sent shivers down Alex’s spine, but he recognized the code words. Walking slowly back down the stairs he gave Farrell a shrewd look. The man simply smiled at him.

"But the sun still shines in St. Petersburg," he said, giving the countersign.

Farrell’s smile deepened and he gestured with his left hand for Alex to proceed him into the reading room. "As I said, Mr. Grant, this won’t take long."

Farrell closed the door, then crossed over to one of the overstuffed chairs and sat, gesturing for Alex to take his own seat. "And now let us speak of many things... Mr. Meriwether."

****

Words are Sindarin:

Ethir neth: (Sindarin): Young spy, literally ‘out-watcher’.

Dortho ví glass; ‘Remain in joy; welcome’; similar to the Quenya phrase hára mariessë ‘stay in happiness/goodness’, an attested phrase of welcome. The Sindarin phrase is not attested but is constructed based on the Quenya example.

Avo lepto: ‘Don’t touch it’.

13: Spies Among Us

For a long moment, the two men simply sat there staring at one another. Farrell’s expression was one of slight amusement. Alex was on the verge of being extremely angry though no one would have been able to tell. His expression was cold, as if carved in stone, but his eyes burned with an inner fire that belied the calm exterior.

"Well? Get on with it," Alex demanded. "I’m late for fencing and I don’t want my cover blown. We shouldn’t even be talking."

"Then I will be brief," Farrell said. "What have you to report?"

"Excuse me?" Alex retorted, allowing his anger to show. "Since when do I report to you? I’m the agent in the field. I report to the D.D. and to no other and I report when I deem it necessary to do so." He stood up to leave and Farrell raised a hand.

"So far, you’ve done nothing and others are worried."

"Worried? Worried about what? I’m supposed to be under deep cover. It’s what I do. I’ve gone under for months on end without contacting anyone. I’m here for two weeks and all of a sudden everyone’s worried? C’mon, Farrell. What’s really going on? If the D.D. didn’t trust me to do my job she should have sent someone else either to bring Elwood in or to terminate him with extreme prejudice."

"And can you do that?" Farrell asked with a frown. "He was your mentor...."

Alex was on him in a flash, grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and hauling him up to face him. "I know my job, Farrell," he hissed in a harsh whisper. "If Elwood has gone rogue he’s a danger to us all. He knows too much. But I’m not wasting a man just because of the Nervous Nellies back in D.C. I’m the agent in the field. It’s my call. Not yours. Not Maddy’s. Not even God’s. Mine. And I will do what I need to do."

He pushed the man from him and turned away in disgust, already dismissing the other agent from his mind. He was nearly at the door when Farrell spoke up again. "It’s been decided that Elwood is too dangerous for one agent to handle, even you. I’m your back up and there are others in place. And while you may be the agent in the field, as of now, you report to me and I expect a report on your progress every week. You can send it via a secure email to this address. I’m sure you have all the security codes in place."

He fished out a card and handed it to Alex who reluctantly took it. "This is highly irregular," he said. "I’m contacting the D.D. to confirm this."

"And she will tell you what I’ve just told you," Farrell said. "I expect a report by noon every Friday."

"Or?"

"Or you will regret it," Farrell said. "I’ve been at this a lot longer than you, son. I’ve forgotten more tricks of the trade than you’ve ever learned. Don’t make the mistake of thinking otherwise."

Alex reared back at the not-so-veiled threat. He narrowed his eyes and his expression went completely feral. "We’ll see about that."

He did not allow Farrell time to respond, but flung open the door and stormed out of the room. He decided not to bother changing his clothes as he’d originally intended but instead headed for the phys. ed. center. By the time he got there the class was already under way.

"Sorry, I’m late," he muttered to Phil Gordon. "I was unavoidably detained."

"Get suited up then," was all Gordon said.

A few moments later, Alex was working out defensive moves with his partner, all the while imagining he was skewering Farrell with his foil.

****

Serindë Voronduriel, known to the Mortals at the Academy as Sarah Brightman, sat quietly in the back of the reading room hidden by one of the stacks, listening to the conversation between Alex and Farrell. The room was not large and one could easily tell at a glance if anyone was there, but there was an odd alcove that was not readily noticeable and anyone not familiar with the reading room’s layout would not notice it or know to look for it. The students called it the Nook and it was comprised of a built-in cushioned bench that nestled between the stack and the wall. There was a small window that looked out onto the quad, providing natural lighting. The Nook was often used by couples wanting a private moment. An unwritten code had somehow developed wherein when the end book on the third shelf from the bottom was removed and placed leaning against the stack, this was the signal to others that the Nook was already occupied.

Serindë had wondered when she learned of this informal code what would happen if someone actually took that particular book out to read, but upon examining its title — Language and Social Change in Java: Linguistic Reflexes of Modernization in a Traditional Royal Polity — she realized that only someone truly depraved would ever want to read such a book. She suspected that it was one of Daeron’s.

Thus, she happened to be sitting in the Nook, quietly enjoying her free time reading one of her favorite books — Plato’s Republic in the original Greek — when Farrell and Alex stepped inside. She recognized their voices and went completely still, barely breathing, listening to their conversation with mounting horror. When Alex stormed out of the room, she continued being still, listening to Farrell’s breathing. She heard the Man stir after a moment and then he was speaking in a low tone and she realized he was talking on his cell phone to someone.

"He’s not happy with the new arrangements," she heard him say and then pause as the person on the other end spoke.

"I don’t trust him to take Elwood out. He was Elwood’s protégé, after all. He’s bound to be sympathetic to the man whether he’s gone rogue or not... No, I understand... Yes, ma’am."

She heard him sigh and walk away, the door opening and closing, leaving her alone once again. For a long moment she sat staring out the window, her book forgotten, mulling over the words she’d heard. When she deemed it was safe to move, she got up and left the room and made her way to where the Academy’s administrative and faculty offices were located, knocking on a particular door.

"Come," she heard Glorfindel say and went inside. The golden-haired Elf-lord looked up and gave her a warm smile that fled when he noticed her expression. "Tell me," he commanded softly in Sindarin, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

And as she took a seat, she did.

****

"Farrell is unknown to me," Amroth said, having been summoned along with Daeron to Glorfindel’s office once Serindë had told him her tale, "but I can’t claim to have known everyone working for the Agency."

"That’s all we need is more spies running around loose," Daeron muttered in disgust. "Just whom can we trust?"

"No one," Glorfindel said categorically.

Daeron snorted. "You sound like Fox Mulder," he commented.

"Well, I’m not Dana Scully," Serindë retorted with a grin and the ellyn all chuckled, but the light mood was short-lived when Serindë turned to Amroth. "Do they really mean to kill you?"

"It is one option, of course," Amroth said with studied equanimity.

"And they want Alex to do it?"" she asked with a frown. "But he’s so nice. How can they expect him to do something so terrible?"

Amroth gave her a sigh. "Child, Alex is anything but nice. He’s a trained killer. I know because I trained him, I and others. You see only what he wants you to see: a pleasant young man with a ready smile who looks like he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but underneath that boyish innocence is a trained agent of espionage who will terminate a person without compunction if he deems it necessary to do so, though I believe he feels genuine regret whenever he’s had to take a life. It’s something I taught him so he wouldn’t lose his humanity, as so many agents tend to do after a while."

"I still can’t believe you would ever be a part of that," Glorfindel said with a shake of his head.

Amroth’s expression became unreadable and when he spoke his tone was cold and remote. "I was given no choice and I did what I had to to survive."

"As have we all," Daeron said. "Let us not start pointing fingers at each other. What we need to concentrate on is Alex and Farrell. Alex I think we can leave alone for now. He’s finally settling in and we will simply wait and see what he does next. Farrell and whoever else he has in place disturbs me. I would feel better if we could somehow neutralize him."

"Neutralize how?" Glorfindel asked with a raised eyebrow.

Daeron shrugged. "Not really sure, but I would prefer that he not have any influence over Alex. We need to find a way to sever that particular tie, get Farrell off Alex’s back."

"Alex is made of sterner stuff than you suspect," Amroth said. "He won’t take orders from Farrell no matter what. As he told Farrell, he is the agent in the field, and that means he has complete autonomy, especially when he’s under deep cover. I do not like that Maddy Washburn is flouting one of the prime rules of the Game. No one messes with the agent in the field."

"Well, short of kidnapping Mr. Farrell or arranging for a fatal accident, I’m not sure just what we can do to send him on his way," Glorfindel said with a wry look. "And since Alex is supposed to contact him via email, Farrell doesn’t physically have to be anywhere near Wiseman and he can still be pulling the strings."

"I wonder what he could do to Alex if he doesn’t comply to his demands?" Serindë said, looking troubled.

"I suspect that Farrell has his own set of orders where our Mr. Grant is concerned," Amroth said darkly and they were all wise enough concerning the ways of Mortals to know what he was implying.

"This just gets better and better," Glorfindel opined with a shake of his head. No one felt inclined to disagree.

****

Alex, of course, was unaware of others discussing him and Farrell. When he’d calmed down enough to think things through, he set out to implement his own plans. He ignored Farrell altogether during the time he was at the Academy pretending to be a part of the accreditation committee. Alex was wise enough to the way the Agency worked not to wonder how Farrell had managed to be part of the committee and dismissed it from his mind. The first thing he did after the fencing class was to return to his room, open his laptop and send an email to the D.D. consisting of two words:

"Back off."

He was pretty sure Maddy Washburn would not appreciate the message, but he was a senior agent given carte blanche with regards to his assignments. This was no different and he highly resented the interference, especially when he had barely begun. Something was up but he was at a loss to figure out what, so he decided to continue as he had.

On Friday, at 11:55, he sent an email to Farrell that was slightly longer than the one he’d sent to Maddy:

"Nothing to report."

He smiled ferally as he closed down his laptop and went to lunch, happily joining Derek and others at the table and spending the time until they had to leave for their nature walk joking and laughing with his friends, unaware that others who were in the cafeteria were surreptitiously watching him. Serindë, eating with Elrohir, kept an eye on the young Man, trying to see a cold-blooded killer behind the boyish façade that he presented to the world and simply couldn’t.

Elrohir, noticing how her attention kept drifting towards where Alex and his friends were sitting, leaned over and whispered into her ear, "He is a warrior, meleth nîn, even as I am. Don’t ever mistake him, or me, for that matter, for anything else."

She looked into his eyes and saw that behind the bright surface there lay a darkness that she didn’t want to explore. She knew his history, but parts of it were alien to her. Born in the early years of this age, she had no direct knowledge of Elves fighting, only the tales that her parents had told her. She nodded, more to satisfy him than because she understood what he was saying, for she didn’t understand and did not think she ever would. Yet, were they not all preparing for battle? Wasn’t this what Elf Academy was all about? She sighed to herself and resumed eating, patently ignoring the spy sitting two tables away.

****

While others were lunching, Amroth sat in his own office, pondering many things. A part of him was angry at himself for allowing himself to be photographed at all. For fifteen years he’d been very careful. He’d planned his death down to the very last detail so that there would be no questions asked. He’d also just as carefully constructed his new persona, Ryan McKinley, disappearing over the Blue Line into the heart of the Adirondacks of New York State, buying a small house in Jay where he tended a garden and in a fit of pure mischief, applied to work as an Elf at Santa’s Workshop, a theme park located in the village of North Pole, just down the road from Jay. It had been a lot of fun and never in his wildest dreams did he think that he would end up in Alaska helping Mortals to be Elf Guides, but somehow he wasn’t too surprised at the turn of events. He’d learned a long time ago that there really were no coincidences in this world.

And finding the love of his life again had simply been a bonus.

But now, all that was being threatened and he knew that he had to do something about it. Glorfindel was right in that it was his decision, but Daeron was equally correct in that he had to do something sooner rather than later. Yet, at the same time, he knew that if he made his move too soon, all would be lost and he could very easily lose his life. He did not fear for himself so much as for others, especially Nimrodel. It would be beyond cruel if they were separated now and he feared that she would simply follow him to Mandos were he to die and he did not want that for her.

So, what to do?

He knew the young man who called himself Alex. He knew what Alex was capable of, for he had taught him everything he knew about espionage. Amroth grinned wryly at that thought.

"But I didn’t teach him everything that I know," he said out loud with a chuckle.

Farrell, on the other hand, was an unknown. It was unlikely that it was even his real name, so no help there. And then there were supposedly others in place. He pondered on what that might mean. He would have to check to see who might have been recently hired by the college or the Academy and would then have easy access to the campus. Or it might be someone who’d moved into Wiseman within the last month.

He grimaced at that thought. He no longer had the resources for finding out such things that he’d once had when working for the Agency. Still, he had to start somewhere and it was always good to start close to home. So, he would check with Glorfindel and Daeron about who else had access to the Academy. It would be someone whom most people would never notice because they were always in the background.

He smiled thinly as he realized just who fit the bill: the janitorial staff and those who handled such things as laundry or even the cafeteria staff or those who oversaw the well-equipped gym on the second floor. Any of those people would never be noticed by the students or, he admitted ruefully to himself, even by other staff and faculty members, including himself. He snorted in disgust at his own sloppiness.

"Only fifteen years away from the Game and you’re already forgetting what every rookie agent knows," he said out loud to himself. "If I were Mortal I could at least put it down to senility, but since I’m not, I have no real excuse except complacency and an agent, even an ex-agent, should never grow complacent."

He shook his head to clear it of such thoughts. Well, he now knew where to start his search for the other agents. He got up and went down the hall to Glorfindel’s office, but found the room empty. Muttering a rather pithy curse in Arabic, he went in search of the Elf-lord.

***

"You want to do a what?" Glorfindel asked Amroth, frowning at the former King of Laurinand. They were in the small reading room where Amroth had found him happily reading a new mystery by one of his favorite authors.

"We need to know who could possibly be an agent," Amroth said with a thin smile. "I don’t like the implications that ‘others are in place’, as Farrell put it. We need to find out if there are people here in the Academy who could be possible spies."

"And what would we do with such information?" Glorfindel asked.

Amroth gave him an amused smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "If you mean, would we take them out? No, but we could neutralize them in other ways. We just need to find out who they are."

"Well, as far as I know, everyone on staff now has been here since Elf Academy first opened."

"There have been no new hires?" Amroth asked.

"Not that I’m aware of," Glorfindel replied, his eyes narrowing in deep thought. "We don’t have any control over those who come from outside but are hired by the college at large, like the laundry service and such."

"What about the janitorial staff?"

"Again, they are contracted through the college."

"But there is a permanent staff here," Amroth pointed out. "The college may foot the bill, but they work exclusively for the Academy; they don’t clean any of the other buildings. So, is it possible that someone new has been added to the staff?"

"Without us knowing about it?" Glorfindel gave him a skeptical look.

Amroth shrugged. "Why would any of us notice if there was an extra cleaning person sweeping the floors and emptying out the trash? Do you actually know the names and faces of everyone who works here, especially those with whom you rarely if ever interact? When was the last time you even saw one of the janitorial staff to speak to?"

Glorfindel sighed, nodding in acknowledgment. "You’re right of course. I’ve done my best to be aware of all who come and go here, but it’s all I can do to keep tabs on the students, let alone everyone else. I’ll have to do better from now on."

Amroth snorted in disbelief. "Honestly, Glorfindel. No one expects you to know everyone who wanders these halls. That’s impossible, unless you’re a Maia, I suppose, but the last time I looked you weren’t a member of that vaunted society."

Glorfindel grinned. "Not yet," he quipped, then sobered. "You’re right. Let’s go find Daeron. He’s in charge of personnel, so he can give us the files on all the people working here. We may find something, but I’m not exactly holding my breath."

"Nor am I," Amroth said as they left the reading room, "but we have to start somewhere and we may just get lucky."

"If you believe in luck," Glorfindel shot back but not having an adequate reply to that, Amroth remained silent.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Meleth nîn: My love.

Laurinand: An earlier name for Lothlórien.

Note: The ‘Blue Line’ is in reference to the color used on early maps showing the border of the Adirondack National Park. On modern maps, the border is usually in green but the phrase has stuck and anyone in New York will know what is meant by it. People live either inside the Blue Line or outside it.

There is indeed a North Pole, New York, and Santa’s Workshop, which is the oldest theme park in America, has been in existence since 1949. You can visit their website at www(dot)northpoleny(dot)com.

14: More Trouble Looming

Daeron, once he heard Amroth out, agreed to look into who among the janitorial staff may have been hired recently.

"I don’t do the actual hiring," he pointed out. "All non-teaching and administrative staff are hired by the college itself. Actually, they don’t so much hire as contract out."

"Which makes it easier to add or even replace someone," Amroth stated, "and none of us would be the wiser."

Daeron and Glorfindel nodded.

"How difficult will it be for you to check on this?" Glorfindel asked.

"Not very," Daeron assured them. "I have a list of the names of all staff on record. I insisted on that from the very beginning and each year I get an updated list. Here, I can bring it up for you now." He turned to his computer and punched in a few commands and a screen opened. Leaning over the loremaster’s shoulder, Glorfindel could see a list of people’s names categorized by department, so all the cafeteria staff were under one heading and those working in the gym were in an another. As Daeron scrolled down he saw another listing for the janitorial staff.

"This is last year’s list," Daeron explained. He punched in a few other commands and a new screen opened. "And this is this year’s list of employees. Put them side-by-side and it will be easy enough to see who wasn’t here last year."

Scanning the list, Amroth pointed to one name. "She wasn’t here last year."

Daeron checked the name. "Christy Ogden. Oh yes. She is a student here, but not of Elf Academy. She’s working in the cafeteria under the college’s work-study program."

"Is she a freshman?" Glorfindel asked.

"No. She’s in her second year and she’s a native of Wiseman. Still lives at home, as I recall."

"Anyone else?" Amroth asked.

"Hmm.... These two are also students who are here under the college’s work-study program. Jack Whitman is actually one of ours and Ciara McConnell is a freshman studying Theatre Arts. She’s eighteen and comes from Bettles. Ah... here... this may be a possibility. Humphrey Bogart."

"You’re kidding!" Glorfindel exclaimed with a laugh. "Oh lord, the names parents saddle their children with. Do you think it’s really his name?"

Daeron shrugged. "Odder things have happened but it’s almost...."

"Almost like someone wants us to know who he is," Amroth supplied. "Or perhaps, is just arrogant enough not to care."

"What does his record show?" Glorfindel asked.

Daeron called up another file, an employee record with a photo showing a Man nearing middle-age with a receding hairline and wearing glasses. He quickly scanned it until he found the relevant information. "Humphrey Bogart, born in ’74 in Wichita, Kansas. Moved to Fairbanks in 2000 and came to Wiseman back in March of this year. Education... hmmm... GED... seems to have gone from one low-paying job after another, never staying long at any one place." He turned to Amroth. "What do you think?"

"Is he the only person working here at the Academy other than those work-study students who wasn’t working here last year?"

Daeron scanned the other files even as Glorfindel and Amroth did but there were no other new names on the second list. "It looks like it," Daeron said after a couple of minutes. "Do you think he’s our man?"

"Could be," Amroth said with a shrug. "That history could very well be legitimate and I hate to accuse a person on the basis of their name or the fact that they moved into Wiseman so recently. The Agency trains its agents to be subtler than that."

"Well, at least we know what he looks like," Glorfindel said, standing straight. "We can keep an eye on him and see what he does."

"Without discounting the possibility that our mole is someone else. Someone we would never suspect," Amroth warned.

The other two ellyn nodded. "I’ll print this out so you can show it to the others," Daeron suggested and Glorfindel agreed. A few minutes later, he and Amroth left Daeron’s office to go their separate ways with Glorfindel taking possession of the Man’s photo. His first stop was to find the Twins.

****

Alex was also pondering whom the Agency might have put in place in and around the college. He did not have the resources to go hunting for them though. He only had a list of email addresses and strict orders not to contact any of them except in dire emergency. They were there solely as back up. Yet, Alex couldn’t help wondering about the change in procedure with Farrell suddenly calling the shots. He found that not only highly suspicious but downright annoying. It meant that he no longer had a free hand to play this game as he wished. He had the sneaking suspicion that Ambrose Elwood was never meant to survive. They wanted his former mentor dead and a part of him agreed with that. Elwood alive was a danger to them all especially when it was apparent he’d faked his own death. Whether to defect or simply to escape from the Game altogether, he did not know and ultimately it did not matter.

Yet, what he told Farrell was equally true: he was not in the habit of terminating a man’s life simply because someone inside the Beltway was feeling nervous. The fact that Elwood would end up here in Alaska teaching at an out-of-the-way community college lent credence to the idea that his former mentor had simply wanted to leave the Game and faking his death was the only way to do it. The Agency would never allow him to retire. He was too good at what he did. Alex, himself, firmly believed that he would never live long enough to see old age. In his line of work, undercover agents usually were short-lived and he accepted that possibility, little though he liked it.

Still...

What if he could disappear the way Elwood did? True, he’d been found out, but Alex suspected that was more bad luck than anything and save for those photos being sent to the Agency, Elwood’s existence would still have been unknown to anyone, including Alex. That had to count for something. The man disappeared for fifteen years, after all, and no one was the wiser. What if he could learn from Elwood how to do it? The very thought intrigued him. He could disappear as well once he tired of the Game, assuming he was still alive. He would probably have to wait until his mother had died, for he would not want to cause her that kind of sorrow and pain, though logically speaking, he assured her of that possibility every time he went on assignment. Yet, he thought there was a fine line between dying in the line of duty and faking his own death. His mother would grieve either way, but the grief would be more honest in the first instance than in the second and the cause of it more legitimate.

He recalled the grief he’d felt upon learning of Elwood’s death and the sense of betrayal he’d felt upon learning that he was alive after all. He never wanted his mother to experience that if at all possible.

Well, something to think about later. In the meantime, he needed to address the situation as it stood. Farrell was calling the shots, or so he thought. Farrell may indeed have been at this longer than Alex, but Alex was no tyro and he’d had very good teachers, one of them right here in Elf Academy. He entertained the thought of actually going to Elwood, reveal his identity and enlist the man to aid him in getting Farrell and therefore the Agency off both their backs, but dismissed it almost at once. Even if Elwood agreed to help it would be too dangerous for them both and there were others, innocents, who could be caught up in all this and there was the real possibility of them getting hurt. Alex was a firm believer in keeping collateral damage to a minimum.

And so things remained status quo for a time. Alex continued going to classes and interacting with the other students, making friends among them, finding himself going deeper and deeper into his persona until Artemus Gordon Meriwether ceased to exist for the most part. He’d set up a program on his laptop that automatically generated the same email message to Farrell he’d sent the first time every Friday at 11:55. He didn’t even have to be on the computer at the time. Farrell and the rest of the accreditation committee had long since gone and he had no further contact with the man.

More than one person breathed a sigh of relief when the accreditation committee finally left, though Marian reminded them that they weren’t free and clear yet. "They’ll go over everything and make a final recommendation," she told the rest of the Academy’s staff. "We should hear from them in about a month or so."

"Do you think Farrell will do something to see that we don’t get the accreditation?" one of the Elves asked Glorfindel, for they all knew the truth of Farrell’s identity, though that knowledge was still kept from the Mortals.

"I don’t know and there’s nothing we can do about it," Glorfindel answered with a sigh. He’d had to deal with all of the members of the committee and to his mind Farrell had seemed very hostile towards them while his fellow committee members had kept a neutral face to their interactions with the Academy people. It was anyone’s guess which way they would go.

In the meantime, they were encouraged to go on as usual and the teachers resumed their original schedule of lessons. A close eye was kept on one Humphrey Bogart, known to his fellow workers as ‘Bo’. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual about the Man except his name. He was quiet and polite and did his work competently. The cleaning company he worked for had heard no complaints about him when Daeron did a discrete check. When Amroth questioned one of the other janitorial people in a way that did not arouse suspicion, he learned that Bo was well liked by his fellow workers.

"He’s a bit shy," the woman told Amroth with a smile, "but he’s sweet and tells the funniest jokes."

So, that apparently was a dead end. If Bogart really was a plant, he was a very good one and not even Amroth could detect any discrepancy in the Man’s background that would give him away.

"So, does that mean he’s not a spy?" Elrohir had demanded in frustration when Amroth reported what he had learned. They were meeting in the conference room in Edhellond waiting for their Mortal friends to join them for their weekly meeting.

"No," Amroth assured him. "It only means that I cannot tell you definitely one way or the other."

The other Elves cast him sour looks.

"This gets us nowhere," Gil said with a sigh. "I wish you would just confront our young spy and get it over with. I’m really tired of this cat-and-mouse game we’re all playing. I’d like to teach my classes without constantly wondering what the young Man sitting in the second row is truly up to. At the moment he’s acting very much like any of the other students, and quite frankly, that scares the hell out of me."

More than one head nodded in agreement.

"He’s going deeper into his persona," Amroth said with a thin smile. "But make no mistake that somewhere inside him, he is still who he truly is: a government agent and a trained killer. You have every right to be frightened, not for yourselves, I know, but for all those around him."

"I am most concerned for Derek Lowell," Glorfindel said, entering the conversation for the first time, "as well as the others he’s befriended. They need extra protection."

"Well, while we’re all able to provide such protection, we certainly can’t do it on a twenty-four-hour basis," Elladan pointed out.

"No. That’s true," Glorfindel averred. "Therefore I’m asking for help from the Maiar who are around." He smiled at the nonplused expressions on the other Elves, though the Twins looked more wary than anything else.

"And are they around?" Serindë asked, casting nervous looks about the room.

"Yes, and at least one of them is within this room," Glorfindel said calmly. "I’m sure my request will be relayed to the appropriate ears forthwith. In the meantime, I think...."

But whatever he was going to say, he was not given an opportunity, for there was a sudden shimmer of lights and the air became redolent with the scent of apples and mint as someone made his appearance. The Elves all came to their feet, more from surprise than out of respect. Only Glorfindel appeared calm, the others were all staring at the person with their mouths hanging open, for before them stood one in full battle dress, his sword, a shimmering blade of incandescent light, in his hands. A surcoat over the fine mithril chain showed an eagle, and they knew this was one of Lord Manwë’s People.

Glorfindel moved around the table to greet the Maia, his face wreathed in a wide grin. "Fionwë. It’s been a long time."

Fionwë sheathed his sword. "Too long, Sword-brother," he replied with a laugh, giving the Elf a warrior’s clasp and then hugging him.

"So what brings you here, as if I didn’t know," Glorfindel asked with a smile.

"Your request has been heard and answered," the Maia said, giving them a sober look. "We’ve kept this place under surveillance for some time now by my lord’s orders. We cannot interfere with what happens, but we can, and have, manipulated things a bit."

"Manipulated how and who?" Glorfindel demanded with a frown.

"Oh, in small matters only," Fionwë said, stealing a look at the other Elves and giving Glorfindel a sly look. He bent down as if to speak privately into Glorfindel’s ear but everyone heard him whisper, "Who do you think finally got that thick-headed son of Elrond to ask the fair Serindë out on a date?"

"Hey!" Elrohir protested, looking extremely embarrassed while Serindë giggled and her parents gave them both indulgent smiles.

Glorfindel gave the Maia a searching look, finally nodding. "Just so we understand each other," he said and Fionwë bowed to him.

"You know us better than that, Sword-brother," he said. "Our orders are very strict. We will not interfere in the course of events unless directly commanded by my lord or one of the other Valar."

"Then, if I may be so bold," Daeron said with a sarcastic look, "why are you even here?"

If Fionwë was upset by the loremaster’s tone, he gave no sign. "We are here to see that no one does anything... stupid... or stupider than normal," he amended, giving Glorfindel a significant look.

Glorfindel, for his part, merely raised an eyebrow and sniffed. "I’ve never done anything stupid in my life."

Fionwë raised his own eyebrow in disbelief. "Joining the Rebellion and defying the Valar wasn’t stupid? Getting yourself killed by a balrog wasn’t stupid? Challenging the High King of all the Elves to a duel wasn’t stupid? Throwing yourself at an ogolvrog and getting yourself mauled almost to death wasn’t stupid? Shall I go on, my lord?"

Glorfindel had the grace to blush under the Maia’s cool regard while the other Elves looked on in astonishment. Fionwë nodded in satisfaction. "As I said, my brethren and I are here to see that no one does anything stupid. And now I will leave you but know that I’m only a shout or a whisper away." Giving them a brief but respectful bow he faded from their sight, leaving behind the fresh scent of apples and mint.

For the longest time no one moved. Finally, Vorondur cleared his throat. "So... um... just what is an ogolvrog?"

"And why did you challenge the High King to a duel?" Barahir asked almost at the same time. He gave Glorfindel a suggestive look. "Enquiring minds want to know," he quipped and the others laughed, albeit nervously, as if afraid to offend their leader.

Glorfindel sighed as he returned to his seat. "An ogolvrog is a nasty creature and I’m very glad that we don’t have any here. As for challenging the High King, that’s too long a tale to tell and in the end the challenge was withdrawn anyway, so nothing came of it. Now, if we’re through interrogating me on my past sins, do you think we can get back to business?"

There were grins all around, for no one was fooled by Glorfindel’s tough demeanor. Before anyone could actually respond to his rhetorical question, though, there was a frantic sounding knock on the door. "Come in," Glorfindel called out and when the door opened it revealed Shane Engelbert, Mithrellas’ Mortal assistant and a good friend of the Elves. She looked distraught. Mithrellas rose to greet her.

"Child, whatever is wrong?" she asked, giving Shane a hug.

"I think we’re in real trouble, or at least, I am," the young woman said.

"Whatever do you mean?" Mithrellas demanded. "But come, sit and calm yourself." She led Shane over to her own chair and made her sit. Gil handed the Mortal a glass of water which she gratefully took. "Now, tell us what has upset you so, my dear," Mithrellas said as she stood behind her friend, giving her a neck massage to help calm her.

For an answer, Shane fished out a crumpled piece of paper from a pocket. "I got this today," she said, thrusting it at Glorfindel, who took it and unfolded it. He quickly scanned the contents of the letter, then looked up at Shane, his expression quizzical. "Your mother is coming for a visit? And that has upset you. I can see where it would be inconvenient but...."

"You don’t understand," Shane interrupted, nearly wailing in her distress. "She’s not coming for a visit. She’s coming to take me home. She’s coming to... to rescue me. I don’t want to be rescued. Please, I don’t want to be rescued."

And to the utter dismay of the Elves, the young woman whom they knew to be strong-minded and unflappable, full of self-assurance and native cunning, burst into tears.

Glorfindel sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment. As if we don’t have enough trouble, he thought to himself, even as he tried to think of something comforting to say to Shane and coming up blank.

****

Ogolvrog: (Sindarin) Evil bear. The Quenya cognate would be ulcamorco. Glorfindel encountered them in Aman while being trained by the Maiar in tracking evil (see Elf, Interrupted, Book Two).

Note: Fionwe’s mention of Glorfindel challenging the High King to a duel is from Elf, Interrupted, Book One. The incident occurred during the time of the New Year’s Tournament.

15: Return to Winterdark Tarn

The Elves were still trying to comfort Shane and assure her that all would be well, when the other Mortals began showing up. They were naturally curious to know why Shane was so upset and when Glorfindel told them, Lily Zhang and Cassidy Morgan, her flatmates, hugged her and promised her that they would protect her from her mother, which made even Shane smile.

"You don’t know my mom," she said, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief Lily handed to her.

"Shane, I promise you, no one will take you from here against your will," Glorfindel said solemnly. "We’ll deal with your mother when she gets here. In the meantime, why don’t we have our meeting and then perhaps Daeron will treat us all with one of his new compositions." He gave Daeron a significant look that wasn’t lost on any of the Elves or even the older Mortals and the loremaster nodded.

"I would be happy to," he said. "I’ve been working on this one piece and would be interested in hearing your opinions."

"That’s settled then," Glorfindel said brightly, giving Shane a reassuring smile. The young woman nodded, albeit reluctantly. Lily and Cassie sat on either side of her, holding her hands while the meeting went on. Everyone noticed, though no one commented on, Shane’s subdued manner, so different from the vivacious young woman with her razor-sharp mind who usually traded quips with Daeron or the Twins during these meetings. Now she sat with downcast eyes and did not contribute to the conversation. The Elves cast worried glances at her and at Glorfindel who acknowledged their worries with a single nod all the while speaking of the mundane administrative matters concerning the Academy.

"Now that the accreditation committee has come and gone, we can get back to the business at hand and resume our normal activities," he said. "To that end, why don’t we hear what Paul has to say about the camping trip. You took the first batch of students last weekend. How did that go?"

Paul Pettingill grinned. "Better than I or the other rangers expected. There were a few minor mishaps but nothing serious. Some of the kids had never been camping before and so it was a whole new experience for them and, in some cases, a bit of a shock, but they all got into the spirit of the thing and a few of them even asked me when they could go again."

The others chuckled. "We’ll have to see how the others do," Glorfindel said. "In the meantime, how are the Sindarin classes going, Gil?"

"Barry and I are very pleased with this current class and...."

****

As promised, Daeron entertained them with a couple of his songs, which were well received by them all and in the end, Shane appeared to be in a better frame of mind. Lily and Cassie convinced her to come with them to the ice cream shop. "We’ll indulge in hot fudge sundaes while planning how to keep your mom at bay," Cassie said with an impish grin while the Elves and the other Mortals chuckled.

Jud, Zach and Matt half-jokingly pledged to defend her to the death from her mother. "Or at least until your mom pays us enough to leave off defending you," Jud quipped. The others groaned or rolled their eyes, and Barry, standing next to Jud, gave him a smack on the back of his head. Jud stood there grinning unrepentantly, rubbing his head. "Just kidding," he said.

Once the Mortals were on their way, the Elves settled in the library, which was their favorite place to gather informally. "Shane looked very worried about this upcoming visit from her mother," Mithrellas said as she took a seat on the sofa. "Do you think we have cause to worry as well?"

No one really had an answer to that. "I think we will just have to play it by ear and hope for the best," Glorfindel said.

"What exactly can she do?" Elrohir asked. "Shane is of legal age after all."

"We’ll have to see, won’t we?" Daeron replied and then he changed the subject, asking Cennanion, who liked playing the flute, about his own latest composition and the two began giving an impromptu concert. Soon the others were joining in and the worries of the outside world were shunted aside for a time.

****

Labor Day came and went. Alex continued playing his role and others continued watching him play it. The Elves kept a careful watch on Humphrey Bogart and the Mortals continued on oblivious to it all. On the Friday after Labor Day, Zach invited Alex and Derek to join him the next morning for his usual get together with young Caleb and his siblings.

"I’m taking them hiking and it would be helpful to have a couple of other grown ups around to keep an eye on them."

"Nicole’s not coming?" Derek asked.

Zach shook his head. "Saturday is the one day in the week where she doesn’t have to deal with the kids and she can get stuff done without them underfoot."

So they agreed and Saturday morning the three of them got into Zach’s van and drove to Nicole’s house where they were warmly greeted. It took a few minutes to get the children organized and all their gear stowed away and then they were off.

"Everyone set?" Zach asked and there was a chorus of ‘yeses’ from them all. Alex, sitting in the back with the four Lord children while Derek sat up front, studied them. Adam, the oldest, was almost thirteen, while his sisters, Rachel and Hannah, were a few years younger. They appeared to be well-adjusted and happy children and from the banter that passed between them and Zach, it was clear that they looked on him as an older brother. He felt a twinge of envy at the easy camaraderie between them. As an only child with no cousins, at least none his age, he’d been pretty much his own company throughout his childhood. He hadn’t really minded, but sometimes, like now, he wished he’d had at least one sibling to grow up with.

"So where are we going, anyway?" Adam asked.

"That’s a surprise," Zach said with a smile. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride. We’ll be there soon enough."

The children settled, the girls whispering and giggling, while Adam stared out the window. Young Caleb was engrossed in a picture book that his mother had given him at the last minute. Alex stole a glance at it and with a start, realized that it was not the typical store-bought book, but obviously handcrafted. The images on the page were painted in bright colors, including gold and silver, and seemed to depict people that looked surprisingly like some of the teachers and staff at the Academy. He thought he saw Loren and even Elwood but there was something not quite right about them. It took him a moment to realize that their ears were all wrong. They seemed to be pointed, almost leaf-shaped.

And that was odd enough but then he noticed that the text, while written in the Roman alphabet, was not in English, but in Sindarin, for he recognized some of the words. He leaned over and spoke in the child’s ear. "Can you read that, Caleb?"

"Huh huh," the boy answered with a nod. He pointed to the text. "And ia, ennas dorthant vi Laurinand aran estannen Amroth...."

"Do you know what it means in English?" Alex asked.

Caleb nodded and puckered his lips as he went back to the beginning of the text. "Long ago, there lived in Laurinand a king named Amroth. See. That’s Amroth there." He pointed to one of the people in the painting and Alex had to force himself not to react, for the child had pointed to the character that looked like Ambrose Elwood. "And that’s Glorfindel. He’s Amroth’s friend and there’s Elladan and Elrohir."

Alex looked to see him pointing at Loren and two who were obviously supposed to be Dan and Roy, except they all had those leaf-shaped ears. "Why do they all have pointed ears?" he asked.

"’Cause they’re Elves," Caleb answered, giving Alex a put-upon look that he recognized as one that was often on the faces of children who were convinced that the grown ups around them were mentally retarded.

He hid a smile even as he tried to assimilate this new information. Elves, of course. Why not? He was tempted to ask some more questions but decided not to. "It’s a lovely book," he said instead. "Who made it for you?"

"Daeron," Caleb replied.

"He means, Darren Harper," Zach said, glancing up at the rearview mirror. "Darren’s made a few of these books for Nicole’s kids. They’re fantasy stories and he likes to illustrate them with people from the Academy."

Alex merely nodded, pretending indifference. It made sense to illustrate the story with people Caleb knew. It probably amused the child to see his friends in the pictures as much as it must amuse Harper to paint them. Still, he had to wonder.

By now, Zach was making the turn off from the James Dalton Highway onto an unpaved road and Alex, looking about, recognized the area. "Mt. Horace?" he asked with some trepidation.

Zach nodded. "We’re going to go hiking at the Mt. Horace Resort. I thought we would go on the Winterdark Tarn trail. It’s a bit of a climb, especially for Caleb, but I think with you and Derek on hand we can manage."

Derek nodded. "The tricky part will be getting over the boulders, but it’s a good walk and there’s a lot to see. I wouldn’t mind seeing the tarn again. We didn’t really stay very long when we were there before." He looked back at Alex and frowned. "You all right, mate? You look a little sick."

Alex shook his head. "I’m fine. Road’s a little bumpy. Are you sure you want to take that trail?" he asked Zach in as nonchalant a voice as he could manage. "Adam and the girls should be all right but I don’t know if Caleb can do it. Perhaps he and I can go on the Snowflake trail instead."

"I wanna go on the Winterdark trail," Caleb protested, practically jumping up and down in his safety seat. "I don’t wanna go on the Snowflake trail. That’s for babies."

"And there you have it," Zach said with a smile. "It’s okay, Caleb. We’re all going on the Winterdark trail."

"Yay!" all four kids yelled. Alex closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to still the terror that was threatening to overtake him. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad this time. At least he was forewarned and he was trained to keep his emotions in check. He could pretend this was part of a mission and he’d been sent to scope the area. If he kept that idea in mind, perhaps he could control the cold, sick feeling that was settling in his gut.

In a matter of minutes, they were at the resort and after gathering all their gear they headed for the funicular that would take them to the trail head. Derek agreed to be Rachel and Hannah’s trail buddy while Alex teamed up with Adam. Caleb naturally stayed close to Zach.

"We’ll stop at the tarn and have our picnic," Zach told them as they set out. The children and Derek were very enthusiastic about that but it was all Alex could do to keep his breakfast down at the thought of picnicking at the tarn.

Yet, the walk itself was quite pleasant even though it was much colder than when he’d been here before. They’d all brought rain gear for storms could come up suddenly in the mountains but at the moment the sky was a cerulean blue and the sun was warm. Alex felt himself relaxing somewhat under the influence of the warm sun and exercise, breathing in the pine-scented air. For a time he even forgot about the tarn but simply enjoyed the walk, speaking with Adam and learning something about the boy, his likes and dislikes.

They moved slowly for Caleb’s sake so it took them nearly an hour to reach the fall of boulders that would have to be climbed, at which point Zach carried Caleb while Derek helped him over the boulders. Alex stayed with the three older children, then Derek took Rachel across before coming back for Hannah, at which point Alex helped Adam to maneuver around the fall until they were all safely on the other side.

"The tarn is just ahead," Zach assured the children and another fifteen minutes found them there.

Alex let Adam go ahead of him so he was the last to reach the tarn. He stopped as soon as he saw it. In spite of the sun blazing overhead, the tarn seemed to reflect nothing and there was an ominous air to it. Perhaps it was the starkness of the mountains surrounding it, perhaps it was something less definable. Alex didn’t know. He only knew that he did not want to be there. The others were now on the other side of the tarn where Derek and the children were looking for stones to skip, while Zach put out the picnic.

"Hey, Alex," Derek called. "Why don’t you join us?"

Alex swallowed nervously and made his way towards them. The children were laughing as they counted the number of times their stones skipped across the surface of the tarn. Caleb was having trouble getting the stones to skip and Derek helped him. When he was able to make a stone skip twice, the little boy clapped his hands and jumped up and down, giving a pleased yell. Alex winced and the feeling of threat rose within him.

"Shhh, not so loud," he whispered, glancing around, half expecting something to be there but the place was empty save for themselves.

"You okay, Alex?" Adam asked, giving the older man a worried look.

Alex forced himself to smile. "Sure, Adam. Everything’s fine. How many times did you skip the stone?"

"Five," the boy said proudly. "I bet you can’t beat that."

"I’m lousy at skipping stones," Alex lied. He was standing a good ten feet from the tarn and closer to the trail than the others, as if making sure he had plenty of room in which to escape. Escape from what, he didn’t know, only that he did not wish to be any nearer to the tarn than he already was. "I bet Derek is a champion skipper though."

"Fair to middling," Derek admitted as he helped Caleb find another flat stone.

"Picnic’s ready anytime you want," Zach called out. He’d pulled out a blanket and had set the food on it. The girls skipped one more stone each and then joined him on the blanket. Derek and Adam were still competing with one another. No one was paying attention to Caleb who’d wandered closer to the water apparently having lost interest in skipping stones. Alex had been scanning the area around them, trying to keep his mind off the tarn, not wanting to look at it, attempting to keep the panic he was feeling at bay.

"Caleb, come have some lunch," Zach called out and Alex turned to see that the little boy had moved away from the others and was crouched on a flat boulder that jutted out a bit from the shore, looking intently into the water, though Alex didn’t think he could see anything. The sight of the boy leaning over the boulder, a hand reaching out for whatever had caught his attention, sent shards of ice through Alex’s blood.

"NO!" he shouted and ran towards the boy who, startled by his shout, over balanced and with a shriek fell into the tarn. Alex dove into the icy waters, discovering to his horror that the shore dropped off steeply so the water was immediately over his head, but worse than that, he could not see anything, for no sunlight penetrated the darkness surrounding him. He started swimming in the direction he thought was where Caleb had fallen in, terrified that the little boy was so far down in the water that he would not be able to find him. He realized that the weight of his boots and coat were pulling him downward and he shrugged off the coat and would’ve tried to remove his boots but he was afraid to stop, fearing that Caleb had little time.

And he needed air.

He started swimming to the surface but for some reason he didn’t reach it as quickly as he should have and in the darkness that surrounded him with no landmarks to use as a guide, he wondered if he was actually moving down instead of up. The pressure on his lungs increased and he quickly reversed direction, but now he did not think he could make it. Contrary to all his training, he allowed himself to panic as he desperately reached for the surface, but he never made it. In the darkness, his lungs burning with an excruciating need to breathe, the icy water leaching all the warmth from his body, he knew himself a failure and as he gave in and let out the breath he’d been holding, his last thought was that they would never find his or Caleb’s body; the two of them would be entombed in the tarn along with whatever lived there for all time.

Then darkness of a different kind took him....

****

Light and a feeling of warmth was the first thing of which Alex was aware as consciousness returned.

"That’s it, Alex," he heard a soft voice say, its tone darkly melodious and Alex felt a shiver of something that could have been either fear or delight sweep through him at the sound of it. "Open your eyes, child. There is naught to fear."

But Alex was in no hurry to obey the voice’s command. He was still struggling with memory, trying to piece together what had happened.

"Artemus, open your eyes."

The sound of his real name shocked Alex into doing just that and he found himself gazing into the eyes of someone he did not know, a tall man with long black hair braided with gemstones. He wore a dark robe of burgundy trimmed with black velvet, its flowing sleeves showing a black silk shirt underneath with intricate silver embroidery on the cuffs.

But it was the stranger’s eyes that caught Alex’s attention: slate grey with the slightest hint of a reddish purple tinge that might have been due to the flickering torchlight that was the room’s only illumination. As he gazed into the man’s eyes, he felt himself captured, unable to look away and he felt oddly naked, as if the person looming over him could see every nook and cranny of his soul and was measuring it against some standard of which he was ignorant, but he had the sense that he was somehow found wanting and shame burned him.

Then the man moved, holding out his hand and Alex found himself taking it without any conscious thought as he was pulled up into a sitting position. Now he had an opportunity to view his surroundings and gulped. He was in some sort of hall that reminded him of paintings he’d seen showing scenes from life in a medieval castle. He couldn’t help wondering if he’d fallen into a medieval fantasy story or something.

He felt rather than saw the stranger smile. "It’s a bit anachronistic, I agree, but I like the atmosphere it evokes."

Alex stared at the man. "You called me Artemus," he said.

"It is your name, isn’t it? More so than ‘Alex’." The man shrugged.

"Where am I and who are you?" Alex demanded, refusing to answer. "Am I... am I... dead?" he whispered and then another thought came to him as he leapt from where he’d been lying on some sort of bed. "Caleb! Where’s Caleb? Is he....?"

"Your young friend is safe," the man assured him, taking him by the shoulders. "Even now he is being rescued. That is not your concern at the moment. What we must determine is whether you are to be rescued as well."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, his eyes widening.

"Do you want to be rescued?" the man asked.

"What kind of question is that? Of course...."

"Think carefully, Artemus Gordon Meriweather, on your answer," the man said and the tone of his voice was darker than before.

"Who are you?" Alex demanded.

"I suppose in your mythology you would call me the Angel of Death," the man replied, "though I am much more than that. Now, do you want to be rescued?"

Alex gulped, suddenly afraid. "I don’t know," he whispered.

The man nodded. "A truthful enough answer from one who deals with lies and deceptions on a regular basis. You are on a cusp, Artemus Gordon Meriweather. You can go either way. Remember, there are many things from which one can be rescued, and Death is the least of them. Now, I think it’s time to send you back. I see my people have found your body and are attempting to revive you."

"Your people?" Alex asked in confusion.

Instead of answering, the man bent down and kissed Alex’s forehead. A great lassitude stole over him and even as he struggled to ask one more question, darkness took him once again....

****

"... coming around. Breathe, Alex. That’s it, mate."

Alex recognized Derek’s voice as he gasped for breath.

"We need to get him out of these wet clothes," he heard someone else say. The voice was unfamiliar to him.

Alex’s eyes fluttered open and he saw several people leaning over him. Zach and Derek were there, their expressions of concern changing to relief as they saw he was awake. There were others with them, strangers who were competently removing his frozen clothes. One of them brought forth a blanket and wrapped it around him. He was not sure what had happened. His memory seemed fractured and he was finding it difficult to put all the pieces together.

"C-c-caleb?" he stuttered.

"He’s okay," Derek assured him. "Little tyke only fell into three feet of water. If it weren’t for these other hikers coming upon us just as you went into the tarn we wouldn’t have been able to find you. Somehow they knew where you were and were able to bring you to the surface."

Alex glanced at the strangers, four of them, tall and handsome with long hair. They were dressed in hiking clothes but Alex had the strangest feeling that underneath the flannels and Levi’s were flowing white tunics and dark surcoats. He blinked a number of times and when he looked upon them again, all he saw was four hikers. One of them was dripping wet but it didn’t seem to bother him. "Th-thank you," he whispered as he huddled in the blanket.

"Our pleasure," one of them said and it was the same one who’d spoken before. "I think we had better get you and the little one off this mountain as quickly as possible. We’ve got some extra clothes with us that should fit you. Here. Have some hot tea. It should help."

Alex took the cup of tea and drank it gratefully, relishing the warmth that spread through his body. With the help of the strangers, he managed to get into a pair of sweats and thermal shirt and one of them gave him his coat, insisting he had no need of it. Glancing around, Alex saw that the picnic stuff had been put away. Caleb was wrapped in a couple of blankets, sitting on his brother’s lap. The older children were pale and subdued and Hannah was shivering. One of the strangers produced another blanket from somewhere and wrapped the girl in it.

"We’ve called for a helicopter," Alex heard one of the strangers tell Zach. "It should be here momentarily."

Even as Alex was wondering how anyone was able to get a signal so deep in the mountains he became aware of the chump-chump of helicopter blades somewhere in the distance and looking up saw a medical chopper coming into view. In moments it made a landing and soon, they were all hustled into it. The strangers waved at them as they flew up. As the pilot swung the chopper around, Alex, sitting next to a window, looked out, intending to wave back, but all he saw was the tarn and the surrounding plateau. There was no sign of the strangers anywhere. It was as if they’d disappeared into thin air.

16: An Awkward Reunion

Within half an hour, the helicopter was landing on the helipad outside of Wiseman’s St. Luke’s Hospital. By now reaction was setting in, and even as Alex was being helped from the chopper, he began to tremble, his legs failing him and he found himself being thoroughly sick on the pavement. After that, everything became hazy. He vaguely felt others around him and then being lifted and after that darkness took him....

The sound of chanting brought him back to consciousness. Alex was not sure where he was or what had happened. He only knew that he was warm and lying on his back. The chanting or singing was not in English. He thought it was Sindarin but wasn’t sure. Opening his eyes a crack he saw Dan and Roy standing on either side of him, their arms before them with the palms facing down, moving them slowly above his body. He blinked and when Roy noticed he was awake, he reached over and covered Alex’s eyes, never stopping his singing. Before Alex could utter a protest sleep took him once again....

The next time he came to, he was lying in a dark hospital room, the black-out window shades down, blocking out the sun. Medical instruments beeping softly provided the only illumination. He stirred and noticed an IV drip attached to his arm. As he struggled to sit up, someone came out of the shadows and gently helped him up, pressing the button to allow the head of the bed to rise to a more comfortable position. Alex recognized Loren and in the semi-darkness swore the man was glowing, but decided to put it down to whatever meds the doctors had pumped into him.

"How are you feeling?" Loren asked quietly.

"Warmer," Alex replied without thinking. Loren chuckled as he readjusted the pillows behind Alex’s back. "Where am I?"

"St. Luke’s. Don’t you remember? I’m going to turn on a light so close your eyes."

Alex complied, shaking his head. "There was a helicopter ride and then...." He frowned, opening his eyes and blinking a couple of times as they adjusted to the brighter light, trying to put the pieces of his fractured memory together. "Caleb! Is he...."

"He’s safe home with his family," Loren assured him. "He suffered little more than a cold dunking. It’s you that has had us all worried."

"Why?" Alex asked perplexed.

"Your fëa was nearly severed from your hröa."

"Huh? In English, please."

Loren chuckled. "Sorry. You almost died."

"I did die!" Alex exclaimed. "Or, at least, I think I did. I... can’t really remember."

"Perhaps just as well," Loren said gravely, "for you are alive and it is to Life to whom you owe your allegiance, not Death. That will come eventually, but not now."

Alex just stared at the man in confusion. His words sounded so formal and archaic and he suddenly felt as if he were in the presence of someone... ancient. He shivered at the thought. Loren, noticing, went over to a cupboard and pulled out a blanket and spread it over him. Even though he wasn’t really feeling cold he was grateful for the man’s solicitousness and thanked him.

"How long have I been here?" he asked.

"It’s Wednesday," Loren answered.

Alex could only stare at him in disbelief. "I’ve been out of it for four days?!"

Loren nodded. "We were finally able to drive out the darkness that clung to your spirit only last night. It took five of us to do it. Whatever sleeps in the tarn had a firm grip on your soul."

"I don’t understand," Alex said weakly.

Loren gave him a slight smile. "I don’t expect you to, Alex. I do expect you to concentrate on getting better. You’re missing your classes and you don’t want to fall too far behind."

Alex leaned back into the pillows with a sigh. "Somehow, Elf Academy doesn’t seem all that important to me anymore."

Loren leaned over the bed and brushed his hand through Alex’s hair. The intimacy, rather than embarrassing him, brought him comfort. "Perhaps," Loren said, "but you are important to us and we would see you back on your feet sooner rather than later. Are you hungry? I can have one of the nurses bring you something and then you should rest. I’ll tell the others that you’re awake and I have no doubt you’ll be inundated with visitors tomorrow." He gave Alex a knowing smile and Alex chuckled.

"Thanks. I think I could eat a little something."

"Good. I’ll go find a nurse and in the meantime I bid you goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning."

Alex nodded as Loren headed for the door. He was nearly falling asleep when a nurse bustled into the room a half an hour later carrying a tray with chicken noodle soup and some soft rolls. Five minutes after finishing the light meal, he was fast asleep.

****

Sometime in the night he dreamt of the tarn. Someone was swimming leisurely in the dark still waters as if in a pool. Alex was watching, wondering who would be so foolish. He tried to warn the swimmer but, as was typical in dreams, he found that he made no noise though he was practically screaming for the person to get out. He tried to move but found he could not; he could only watch helplessly as the swimmer continued, oblivious to his danger.

Then, something rose from the depths. Alex couldn’t really see what it was; he only knew that something terrible was coming and the swimmer (he still couldn’t see his face) kept on, apparently unaware or unconcerned. Alex fought with all his being to run to the tarn and warn the swimmer but to no avail. And all the while the something from the depths continued to rise.

Then, the swimmer started flailing and sinking into the waters as if being dragged down. It was only then that Alex got a good look at the swimmer’s face: it was his own but not as he looked now. This was who he really was, with his dark brown hair and blue eyes. This was Artemus Gordon Meriwether and as he watched himself being taken by whatever lived in the tarn, their eyes locked and to Alex’s horror, his other self smiled and that smile was ugly and as cold as the waters in which he was drowning....

He woke with a gasp of terror, struggling to sit up, to run from the dream. Someone came and held him, turning on the light over the bed.

"Easy now. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. It’s all right. You’re safe. That’s it. It was just a nightmare, nothing more."

It took several minutes for Alex to get his breathing under control. All the while the person spoke to him in quiet tones, willing calmness, even as he adjusted the bed to a sitting position, encouraging Alex to lie back. It was only when he had calmed down and the person was handing him a cup of water that he recognized who it was.

"Ambrose," he whispered without thinking.

Amroth smiled at the young man. "Hello, Artemus. It’s been a long time."

"Only my mom calls me Artemus," was all Alex could think to say.

"And Mrs. Dunlap, as I recall. How is the old bat? Still plying the agents with her brownies and grandmotherly advice?"

"Why aren’t you dead?" Alex demanded.

Amroth sighed and moved away to bring a chair closer to the bed. For a long moment, there was only silence between them, an uncomfortable silence for Alex, who kept shifting his position.

"Careful of the IV," Amroth said.

"I hate IVs," Alex groused and Amroth chuckled.

"I’m sure if you behave yourself, they’ll remove it soon. Drink some more water. It’ll help."

In spite of himself, Alex complied and indeed the water seemed to calm him and he settled back into his pillows with a sigh. Amroth rose and fussed with the bedclothes. Alex gave him a sardonic look.

"Even my mom gave up tucking me into bed a long time ago."

Amroth laughed lightly. "Just making sure you’re comfortable."

"I’d be more comfortable if you were dead," Alex retorted and then immediately regretted his words. "Sorry. I didn’t mean that."

"I know you didn’t," Amroth said kindly, brushing a hand through Alex’s hair. "You’ve had a frightening experience, one that few have had, and I doubt if you’re even thinking straight. What were you dreaming?"

Alex shook his head. "Not important. It was just a nightmare. Now stop avoiding the question. Why are you still alive? How are you still alive? And what in blue blazes are you doing here in the Back of the Beyond?"

"I will not answer your questions at this time, son," Amroth said, his expression grave and it was one that Alex recognized from earlier times when he was a young trainee. "It is too complicated to go into at this moment."

"You know I was sent to bring you back... or not."

Amroth merely nodded, apparently unconcerned. Alex frowned. "So how long have you known? What gave me away?"

Now Amroth chuckled in amusement. "You can disguise your features and you did a good job of that, by the way, but it’s difficult to disguise one’s handwriting and I suspect when you signed the application form for the Academy you weren’t really thinking about that, were you?" Alex gave him a chagrined look and shook his head. "Yes, well, all applications go through a committee," Amroth continued, "and I happened to be on it. I recognized your signature if not your name."

Alex gave him a disbelieving look. "You recognized my signature? After fifteen years and I don’t even use my real name and you recognized my signature?"

"You forget who trained you," Amroth said darkly, his expression altering in some indefinable manner and Alex was immediately reminded of the fact that the man sitting next to him was very dangerous, probably the most dangerous person he’d ever known and he felt his heart beating faster in trepidation. Then, Amroth’s mien lightened somewhat, much to Alex’s relief. "Besides, once you arrived, I was certain of who you were. One’s voice is another thing that’s hard to disguise and you weren’t being all that careful to disguise it with an accent. I thought I taught you better than that."

The last was said in a somewhat disapproving tone and Alex sighed, feeling as if he were a kid being admonished by a grown up for some dereliction of behavior.

"So what now?" was all he could think to say.

"Now, you need to concentrate on getting back on your feet," Amroth said briskly. "We’ll deal with the rest later."

"You’re kidding!" Alex protested, sitting up straight, giving Amroth a glare. "That’s it? No ‘I’m sorry for deceiving you’ or even ‘You’ll never take me alive’? C’mon, Ambrose, what the hell is going on here? I’ve been here for a month and I still don’t have a clue."

Amroth did not answer immediately. Instead he reached up and turned off the bed light, plunging them into semi-darkness once again. "Try to get some more sleep," he said. "You still have a couple of hours before the nurse comes in to make your life miserable." He pushed the chair back into a corner and headed for the door, stopping to look at Alex who had the strangest feeling that the man was glowing ever so lightly. "And in case it’s slipped your mind, the name is Ryan McKinley. Ambrose Elwood died fifteen years ago and I have no intention of resurrecting him any time soon."

He opened the door and left. It was some while before Alex finally fell back to sleep.

****

He woke again to the sound of the nurse coming in to check his vitals, and was assured that he was allowed out of bed. "A walk around the ward will do you good," the nurse said. "There’s a robe hanging in the cupboard. Breakfast will be along shortly. There’s a small lounge at the end of the hall if you’d like to eat there."

Alex thanked her and with a little help, got out of bed. Putting on the robe was a bit awkward with the IV still in him, but the nurse said it would be removed sometime after breakfast. She helped him put his slippers on and then escorted him out of the room. "The lounge is that way," she said, pointing to her right, and Alex set out, walking carefully as he pushed the IV cart with him. Other nurses were about and a few patients, but the lounge itself was empty. He found a chair near one of the windows that looked out onto a garden and sat. A TV in the corner was turned on to a local news station. He paid little attention to it, his thoughts elsewhere, replaying the frustrating conversation he’d had with Ambrose, or Ryan, as he was calling himself now.

His thoughts were interrupted by a nurse bringing him his breakfast and he moved over to a small table where he was still sitting a half an hour later sipping his coffee and perusing a magazine when he had visitors.

"So there you are."

Alex looked up and smiled as Derek and Zach entered the lounge.

"We thought to find you still in bed," Derek said as he and Zach took seats around the table. "Glad to see you back among the living. How’re you feeling?"

"Better," Alex said. "I’m hoping they’ll release me today. I’m not really sick or anything."

"Hey mate, from what we were told you almost died. That’s not something to sneeze at."

Alex shrugged. "I guess. Anyway, what have I missed? I can’t believe it’s been four, or no, five days."

Now it was Derek’s turn to shrug. "Nothing special," he answered. "If you’re out of here by tomorrow, you’ll get to go camping with us. It’s our turn, you know."

"I’d forgotten about that," Alex said with a nod. "Not sure if I’m up to another hike or anything. You okay, Zach? How are the kids? Loren said Caleb is fine?"

Zach nodded. "Everyth-thing is c-c-cool," he stuttered and then grimaced in disgust, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. It’s not your fault," Alex said.

"I should’ve remembered that Loren warned me that you shouldn't go on that trail again. He reamed me out on that."

"Well, he had no right to," Alex said firmly, "and when I next see him, I’ll tell him so. It was just an unfortunate set of circumstances. If I hadn’t shouted Caleb probably wouldn’t have fallen in. I let my own panic take over and so if anyone’s to blame it’s me."

Derek waved a hand. "Old news and pointing fingers gets you nowhere. You and Caleb are alive and that’s all that matters."

"Who were those people who rescued us?" Alex asked. He was surprised to see Zach turn pale, though Derek just shook his head.

"No idea," he said. "But you and Caleb are damn lucky they arrived when they did."

"I know," Alex averred. "Well, the nurse has promised they’ll remove the IV in a bit and then I can take a shower."

"We’ll walk you back to your room and stay until then," Derek said and the three stood and returned to Alex’s room, with Derek supplying answers to Alex’s questions about the classes he’d missed. "I think they’ll excuse you from the camping trip this weekend. You should just rest up and catch up on assignments."

Alex thought that was a good idea. He had a lot to think about and wanted some privacy in which to do so. Plus, he needed to speak with Ambrose. He needed answers and he needed them now.

About then, the nurse came in to remove the IV and Derek and Zach made their farewells. "As soon as you know when you’re being released, we’ll come get you," Derek promised and Alex thanked them both.

As it was, though, Loren came for him an hour after lunch. "You’re looking better," he commented as he helped Alex into his van. Alex merely grunted as he buckled up. Loren got in on his side and did the same but did not immediately start the van up. "You’re upset."

Alex gave him a surprised look and then nodded. "Yeah, sorry. I’m still...." He shrugged, not entirely sure what to say. He decided to change the subject. "Zach told me you gave him hell for taking us to the tarn. It wasn’t his fault, you know."

"Actually, it was, because I told him you should not go there again. He apparently forgot. And anyway, that was no place to be taking the children. Well, water under the bridge now." With that he turned over the engine and they set off. It took Alex a couple of minutes to realize they weren’t heading for the college.

"Where are we going?" he asked in confusion. "Didn’t we just pass the turn-off to the campus?"

"I don’t think you should be alone," Loren said. "Derek will be leaving tomorrow for the camping trip directly after the morning classes. I think you could do with a bit of quiet and you’re not going to get it at the Academy. I had Derek throw together some clothes for you. You’ll be staying with me for the next couple of days."

"And I don’t get a choice in this?" Alex demanded angrily.

Loren flashed him a brief smile. "No, you don’t. So sit back and relax. We’ll be there soon. I’ve had a room made ready for you and you’re free to stay in it all weekend if you want, but I hope you’ll at least join us for meals."

"Us?" Alex asked, but Loren didn’t answer. Five minutes later they were tuning in the drive fronting the mansion where Alex had seen Ambrose and Della kissing. "Here we are," Loren said unnecessarily and even as they were getting out of the van, the front door opened and Ambrose was standing there.

"Welcome to Edhellond, son," he said as he and Loren ushered him inside. "Let’s get you settled. Oh, and I believe this is yours." He fished something out of his pocket and placed a small object in Alex’s right hand. Alex stared down at the small bug he’d placed weeks earlier in the back garden, then glanced up at Ambrose smiling a wicked smile while Loren merely rolled his eyes.

"Your room’s this way," he said and before Alex could muster a reply of any sort he found himself being led up a flight of stairs. He looked back to see Ambrose standing there, still smiling.

17: Alex Among the Elves

"This was the servants’ wing," Loren was saying as he brought Alex to the third floor. "We’ve knocked down some walls and converted the rooms into guest quarters. I’ve put you in the Lindon room."

They walked down the hall, stopping at the second door on the left. Loren opened it and ushered Alex inside. It was not an overly large room, but it was comfortably appointed in shades of blue and green that were very restful to the eyes. Alex saw that one of his duffle bags was sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"And I see Derek brought your textbooks and laptop, as well," Loren said, nodding towards a small desk that stood before the window where Alex saw a small pile of books and his laptop. "Now I meant what I said. You can spend the entire weekend in your room but I do hope you’ll at least join us for dinner. Breakfast and lunch are do-it-yourself affairs around here and once you’re unpacked I’ll show you the kitchen and give you a little tour. We have a well-stocked library and we’re wireless, so you have access to the internet. I’ll give you the password as it’s not the same as the one used by the college. The bathroom is directly across the hall."

"So I’m not attending my classes tomorrow or even going on the nature walk?" Alex asked.

"I would think you’d had enough of nature for a bit," Loren replied with a wry grin. "And I wouldn’t worry about your classes. Monday will be soon enough to resume your studies. You can take the time here to catch up on assignments and we’ll be on hand if you have any questions. Now, I’ll leave you to unpack. Come down when you’re ready and I’ll show you where everything is. Dinner is usually around seven. You may want to take a nap before that."

"I’m fine," Alex said with a shrug.

"We’ll see," Loren retorted mildly and then left Alex to unpack in peace.

About fifteen minutes later, Alex came downstairs and wandered a bit through the house, peeking into various rooms, looking for Loren. He noticed that while the house’s architecture was somewhat rustic, many of the rooms were decorated in rather eclectic styles. One room, he thought it was a sitting room of some sort, was done in a style that was reminiscent of early Louis XIV, very light and airy with a fragile look to the furniture. When he found the library he had a sense of stepping further back in time, for the ceiling was cathedral-style with heavy beams and banners hanging from them. The fireplace took up one wall and the seating was straight out of a medieval movie set with its heavily carved wood. Between the bookcases hung colorful tapestries. The bookcases were filled with leather-bound books for the most part though, incongruously, he did notice a small section of modern-day paperbacks tucked in a corner.

Looking about he saw Loren sitting at a table, poring over something that Alex could not see. Loren looked up and smiled. "Ready for that tour?" he asked as he stood.

Alex shrugged. "I guess."

"Your enthusiasm is underwhelming," Loren retorted with a grin.

"Sorry. I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to act now," Alex replied.

Loren nodded. "Understandable. I suggest you go on as you have been. Continue being Alex Grant. We’ll deal with Artemus Gordon Meriwether later. You had a frightening experience, perhaps more frightening than you realize, and you’ve suffered damage on a psychic level."

"I’m not sure I understand," Alex protested.

"I know you don’t and to try to explain would be futile because you don’t have the necessary background to accept whatever explanation I might give you. Just accept the fact that you need to rest and this is the place for it. Now, why don’t I show you around? Afterwards, if you don’t want to take a nap, we can sit out in the back garden and you can tell me all about being a spy."

"Intelligence officer," Alex said with a lift of an eyebrow, giving him a disdainful sniff.

Loren chuckled. "My mistake. Come. The kitchen is this way."

The tour took all of fifteen minutes to complete. They met no one else, not even Ambrose and that puzzled Alex. "He’s gone with Dan and Conan, whom you’ve not met yet, I think, to Chandalar," Loren explained when Alex asked. "They’ll be back in a couple of hours. Some of the others are either with the students visiting the resorts and safari companies or they are out and about on personal business. So, we have the place to ourselves until about five or so. As it’s my turn to cook dinner, I thought you could give me a hand."

"I guess," was all Alex could muster up to say.

Loren merely grinned. "Let’s go out back. I’m planning to grill some salmon and I want to get the fire started. Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"I could do with something to drink," Alex allowed as they re-entered the very up-to-date kitchen, a stark contrast to the rest of the house with its old-world decor.

"I’ll bring us some lemonade, if that’s all right with you," Loren said. "Why don’t you go on out and enjoy the garden? I’ll be right behind you."

Alex nodded and let himself out the door, making his way along the crushed-stone path with its rainbow colors to where the fire pit was located. The garden was a riot of colors and scents. He could not sense any pattern to its layout, though he thought that the area closest to the kitchen was mostly herbs. Trees graced the perimeter providing a natural privacy screen. The center was laid out with comfortable lawn chairs and sturdy tables surrounding the fire pit. He didn’t see a grill anywhere and wondered how Loren was going to cook the salmon. His answer came when Loren joined him carrying a tray with two tall glasses of lemonade and a plate of cookies. He set them on the table between two of the lounge chairs, then handed one of the glasses to Alex.

"Sit and relax while I get the fire started," Loren told him and even as Alex was settling into one of the lounge chairs, Loren went to a small shed and brought out some kindling and several larger logs and proceeded to lay them inside the fire pit.

"You’re going to grill them over that?" Alex asked.

Loren nodded. "We’re a bit old-fashioned about some things. And it’s more pleasant to sit around the fire watching the steaks grill than it is standing over an electric barbecue."

"Can’t argue with that," Alex said, lifting his glass in salute before taking a sip.

"So tell me about yourself, and I don’t mean the fabrication that is Alex Grant."

Alex shrugged. "Not much to tell and if I did I’d have to kill you." He gave Loren a sly grin.

"Many have tried," Loren replied with a disdainful sniff before returning to the fire, adding some more kindling. "So how did you and Ryan meet?"

"Well, I knew him as Ambrose Elwood," Alex replied and Loren nodded. "I was fresh out of college and I was looking for work as a translator — that’s what I was majoring in, languages — and deciding if I wanted to spend another two or three years getting a postgraduate degree in Linguistics, when I was approached by certain people who said they valued my skills...." He frowned into his lemonade. "One thing led to another and before I knew it, there was Ambrose teaching me ten different ways to kill a man with a salt shaker."

Loren lifted an eyebrow at that and Alex grinned. "Well that’s what we called it. It was really a martial arts class taken to the next inevitable step."

"Training you to kill, not just defend," Loren said and Alex nodded. "I will not insult you by asking you if you’ve ever had to kill someone."

"Thank you," Alex said gratefully.

"Do you regret the way your life has gone?"

"Sometimes," Alex admitted. "Most times, I don’t think about it. It’s a job. And a lot of times I actually am just sitting there acting as a translator as intelligence is brought to the Agency through other sources and operatives. My field of specialty lately has been infiltrating terrorist cells of the homegrown variety and nipping their little plots to overthrow the government in the bud. And believe me, since 9-11, we’ve gotten quite a few sprouting up all over the place. Last year it was in Minnesota. This year it’s Alaska."

Loren grinned. "No terrorist cells here, I’m afraid, and we’re not planning to overthrow anything. We just train people to be Elf Guides for the tourists."

"And so you recruited a former intelligence officer who should actually be dead to help you," Alex retorted grimly.

Loren stopped what he was doing and stood up, going to the table where his drink was, taking a couple of sips. "Ryan is more than a former spy, Alex, and yes, I’ll continue calling you that if you don’t mind. What he is, I will not say at this time, though perhaps before the weekend is done you’ll find out for yourself. What I will tell you is, nothing is what it seems and your attempt to infiltrate us failed almost from the beginning. Even Farrell learned nothing from us and yes, we know who he is also."

"How?" Alex asked, feeling perplexed. "Your intelligence seems better than mine."

Loren chuckled. "Only by happenstance. You and Farrell were not alone in the reading room."

It took a moment for Alex to understand what Loren was saying. He groaned. "The Nook."

Loren nodded. "Apparently Farrell didn’t think to check to see if it was occupied."

"I doubt he knew it was there. It’s not immediately obvious. I think I was here almost two weeks before I discovered it."

"So we thought. By the way, how have you been dealing with Mr. Farrell? From the report we were given, he pretty much threatened you with dire consequences if you didn’t toe the line and report to him on a regular basis."

Alex gave him a wolfish grin. "I have my methods, Watson."

Loren laughed out loud. "Very well, keep your secrets. You may want to consider joining forces with us to keep Farrell at bay and out of our hair."

Alex gave him a noncommittal shrug. Loren didn’t seem to be upset by it and simply nodded. "Well, think about it. I hope while you’re here with us this weekend you’ll find that we’re not the enemy. Well, the fire is going nicely. Why don’t you stay here and keep an eye on it while I go in and get the salmon ready?"

"Sure. No problem."

Loren left and Alex settled further into the lounge chair, sipping his lemonade and munching on an oatmeal raisin cookie, gazing into the fire and thinking over his conversation with Loren. He thought he should be feeling more upset than he was now that his cover was blown, but it didn’t seem important any more. He drained his glass and set it on the table and continued gazing into the fire. Its warmth reached him and he began to feel drowsy. He yawned a couple of times and felt his eyes drooping. Without realizing it, he fell asleep.

And he dreamed....

****

"NO! Noooo!"

Alex woke with a yell and was thrashing about, still caught in the terror of the dream. He felt strong hands holding him and someone was speaking but the words made no sense. He recognized the lilting cadence of Sindarin but that was all. Then, there was the scent of something clean and fresh wafting through the air, clearing his head of the dark cobwebs of terror that still smothered him. He blinked a couple of times as he came to himself to find Loren holding him while Dan was leaning over him with a bowl of steaming water. It was from the bowl that the fresh scent came, for he saw that some dark leaves floated in the water.

"Feeling better?" Dan asked solicitously.

Alex could only shake his head, unsure how to answer. Some shreds of the terror that had taken him still clung to him and he was breathing heavily.

"Take a deep breath, Alex," Loren told him. "It’s all right. You’re safe now. It was just a nightmare."

"The same one?"

That was Ambrose, who stood nearby along with another man and a woman whom Alex did not know. Both had silvery hair but they were not old looking. Alex took a deep breath and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Would you tell us the dream?" Loren asked, brushing a hand through Alex’s hair. "It may help diffuse the terror you are feeling."

"It’s just a stupid dream. Not important," Alex protested.

"You disappoint me, Artemus." Alex looked up to see Ambrose frowning at him. "I thought I taught you never to ignore your dreams or your nightmares. The fact that you’re dreaming the same dream over again indicates that your psyche is trying to tell you something."

Alex started speaking but suddenly began trembling, as if from extreme cold. Dan motioned to the woman, handing her the bowl. "We may need something stronger to counteract the effects, Misty."

"If we had athelas...."

"Unfortunately we don’t," Dan said. "We’ll have to use what we have. I wish Roy were here. Conan, find some blankets."

The silver-haired man nodded and went towards the house. Dan was still speaking to Alex. "Alex, look at me. That’s it. That’s it. All is well. You’re safe."

Alex found himself gazing ever more deeply into Dan’s eyes, feeling himself falling and there was a sense of… veiled power and an ancientness in the man’s gaze that he could not quite comprehend and his mind shied away from it. Instead, he concentrated on breathing. He felt someone wrap some blankets around him and Misty returned with another steaming bowl from which came a stronger scent than previously. She handed it to Dan.

"I’ve mixed several herbs together," she said. "It’s not athelas but it’s the best I can do."

"Thank you," Dan said politely as he moved the bowl under Alex’s nose. "Breathe, my friend. Breathe and be refreshed. Adolo ’nan galad."

Alex had no idea what Dan was saying, but the power of his voice, almost a command, was unmistakable and he breathed as deeply of the heady scent as he could, his mind coming into greater focus and he found himself more aware of his present surroundings. He sighed and leaned back into Loren’s embrace, closing his eyes.

"Alex, please tell us about your dream. We can’t help you otherwise," Loren said, almost pleadingly.

"It was just a stupid dream. Nothing more," Alex protested, opening his eyes and glaring at them all.

Ambrose tapped Dan on the shoulder and the man stood and gave his place to him. Ambrose knelt gracefully before Alex and his expression was one that Alex recognized from years earlier. "What was the first thing I taught you?" Ambrose asked.

Alex frowned, thinking back to those early days as a trainee. "Never to dismiss your dreams."

Ambrose nodded. "Dreams are your mind’s way of speaking to you when you are not listening otherwise. Often what your mind has to say is unimportant or uninteresting and so we tend to forget our dreams, but sometimes what our mind, or rather, our deepest self, our soul, has to say is vitally important. I think this is the case here. So, please tell us your dream. We can help you, but only if you let us."

For a moment, Alex did not reply. He glanced around at the others, all of whom had expressions of sympathy and compassion. He sighed and slowly, hesitantly, he began to tell them of his dream. "I’m at the tarn and… and there’s someone swimming in it but… his face… I can’t see it and…."

Before he came to the end of his recitation he was trembling all over again. Conan left to go inside the house and came back a few minutes later with a mug of tea that Ambrose encouraged him to drink once he finished speaking. It was hot and sweet and it seemed to help, for the trembling ceased after a moment. He concentrated on sipping the hot liquid, letting it warm him inside and out, ignoring the others who remained silent.

"It seems that whatever sleeps beneath the waters was attracted to Alex’s… um… dark side," Misty finally ventured.

Dan rolled his eyes and Ambrose smiled. Loren just shook his head while Conan lifted an eyebrow at Misty, causing her to blush.

"I thought we removed the darkness from Alex’s soul," Ambrose said, turning to Dan.

"We did and we have, but that kind of evil… some residue is bound to remain and that is what Alex is experiencing through his dreams."

"Can we do something about it?" Conan asked.

"Alex, you told me that you had died," Loren said. "Do you remember what happened afterwards?"

Alex frowned in thought. "I’m not sure. There was… there was someone with me and he was asking me something."

"Do you know who it was? Can you describe him?"

"Tall, dark and handsome?" Alex quipped, trying to insert some levity into the conversation. At the looks on the faces of the others, he sobered. "Sorry. He was tall, though, taller than you, I think." He nodded at Loren. "And he had long, very dark hair that was braided with gems."

He did not miss the looks that passed between the others. "Someone you know?" he asked curiously.

"If he did not tell you his name, then I will not speak it here," Loren said. "Do you remember what he asked you?"

"He asked me if I wanted to be rescued," Alex replied slowly, "and… and he said that there were many things from which one could be rescued and that death was the least of them. Oh, and he called me by my right name."

"The fact that the swimmer in your dream is you as you truly look is significant, I believe," Ambrose said.

"Obviously," Loren said with a smile. "The question is, who are we rescuing, Alex or Artemus and does Artemus want to be rescued?"

"Huh?" was all Alex could muster, not sure what Loren was talking about.

"Think about it," Ambrose said with a nod. "Who are you when you are watching the swimmer?"

"Well, me, of course," Alex replied feeling confused by the question.

"Yes, but which you? Are you Alex or Artemus or someone else?"

Alex had to think about it for a moment. "I really don’t know. I mean, I didn’t exactly have a mirror to look into, all I know is that when I saw myself being pulled under, the smile I had on my face was cold and… and evil. I know that sounds stupid, but that’s all I could think when I saw it, that it was an evil, sick smile and seeing it on my own face made me feel… tainted."

"And there’s our first clue," Dan said.

The others all nodded, but before Alex could ask what Dan meant, Loren moved to stand, releasing Alex from his embrace. "Well, the salmon won’t cook itself," he said. "We’ll have to postpone this discussion until later."

"When Roy returns I’ll speak to him about setting up some wards," Dan said. "It should at least help Alex sleep undisturbed. It won’t solve the underlying problem, though."

Loren nodded. "Let me know if you need me to strengthen it, but otherwise, I think you and your brother can handle the warding. Ryan, you want to stay with our guest and keep him company while the rest of us get on with dinner?"

"We’ll just sit here and tend the fire. Alex can catch me up on all the dirt from the Agency. You know, who’s sleeping with whom, who’s not sleeping, who’s angling to get Maddy’s job, that sort of thing." He smiled as he stood up and sat in the chair next to Alex, giving him a wink. Alex smiled shyly back.

"Good enough," Loren said. Then he patted Alex on the shoulder. "We’ll get through this, Alex. I promise. You’re not alone."

Alex could only nod, not sure how to respond or what he was feeling. Loren gestured to Misty, Conan and Dan and they all headed back to the house, leaving Alex alone with his former mentor.

"So tell me what I’ve missed these past fifteen years," Ambrose said as he leaned back into his chair.

****

Adolo ’nan galad: (Sindarin) ‘Come back to the light’.

18: Conversation with a Loremaster

Alex watched the people sitting around the fire pit enjoying the evening. Even in mid-September the sun was still in the sky though it was now nearing nine o’clock. He and Ambrose (as he continued to think of him) had spent the time while the others of the household came and went in reminiscing about people they knew and what Alex had been up to over the last fifteen years. Everyone else ignored them until Loren came out with the salmon and asked them to look after the fish while he tended to the salad.

Then Misty came out carrying another bowl of steaming water from which rose the scent of mingled herbs which Alex could put no name to except that breathing the scented air seemed to lift his spirits. He watched her pacing the perimeter of the open area around the fire pit and he thought she was chanting something though he did not recognize the words. He gave Ambrose a quizzical look.

"She’s warding the place," Amroth answered simply.

"Dan said something about warding me," Alex replied, looking troubled, "but I’m not sure what that means."

Amroth nodded. "He and Roy will set up a protective spell around you to guard you from whatever lurks beneath the waters from invading your dreams. You shouldn’t have any more nightmares, at least for now."

"How can they do that?" He felt a thrill of alarm at the mention of ‘spells’ and had a sudden vision of the twins in dark robes placing him inside a pentagram and chanting, the way they did in those movies with witches and demons and all.

Amroth smiled as if he could tell what Alex was thinking. "I promise it doesn’t hurt and you won’t feel a thing. They will most likely put the wards around the house itself rather than around you. Misty is doing something similar but on a lower scale, cleansing the gardens of any negative vibes, as they say these days. Now I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Check the fish, will you? I think they’re ready to be turned over."

And as Alex complied to the command Amroth steered the conversation to other topics, quizzing him on his knowledge of Sindarin, saying that most conversations within the household were in that language but everyone would speak English if he had trouble understanding. "Though you know that immersion is the best way to learn." So as people began showing up and joining them in the garden Sindarin became the language of the hour. Alex had accumulated enough vocabulary over the last month to follow along though he probably only truly understood one word in five and the mutations still threw him. Still, he was able to extrapolate from that what was being said in general, utilizing his linguistics background to fill in the gaps. He was encouraged to respond in the same language, spending much of the time groping for words and code switching out of necessity. No one laughed or became upset. The person with whom he happened to be speaking would simply supply the necessary word or gently correct his grammar. After about an hour Alex started to relax and actually enjoy himself. He’d always loved languages and he was finding Sindarin to be a challenge and he thrived on challenges.

In this way he got to meet the rest of the household and put names to faces as they all gathered around the fire pit to enjoy Loren’s grilled salmon. He could not help but notice the ethereal beauty of all of them, even the men, a beauty that had only been hinted at in the photos. There was something that was almost alien about them now that he saw them all together, interacting with one another — the fluidity of their motions, the way their eyes seemed to glow with more than just the firelight, the musical sound of their voices with their lilting cadence as they spoke Sindarin.

And all of them spoke it with such ease that Alex was now convinced that the language was somehow real and not invented. He stole a glance at Ambrose quietly speaking with Della whom he now knew to be his wife. Their Sindarin was rapid and fluid and Alex couldn’t help wondering if this was a language they had spoken all their lives. Yet, why hadn’t he heard of it and to what people did it belong? And how had any of these people learned it and from whom?

He glanced across the fire pit to where Loren sat with the Twins on either side of him, the three of them holding a deep discussion, or so Alex assumed from the sober expressions on their faces. Every once in a while he noticed one or the other of them briefly looking his way before turning their attention back to the other two and Alex had the uncomfortable feeling that they were discussing him. Perhaps something to do with the wards that they’d mentioned earlier.

And that was another thing. These people all spoke of warding against evil influences as if they actually believed in such things. It all sounded so hocus-pocus to him; he couldn’t believe someone like Ambrose actually accepting it as real, and yet he had sat there calmly explaining about warding in a matter-of-fact way, as if it was just a part of his everyday experience.

"Earth to Alex. Come in Alex."

Alex startled at the sound of English being spoken and blinked owlishly at Gil sitting next to him, his eyes bright with mirth.

"Sorry," he said, also in English.

"You were far away in your thoughts," Gil said. "Care to share them with me?"

Alex shrugged. "I was just thinking how everyone here seems so comfortable speaking a language that doesn’t exist, or at least, one I’d never heard of before. Yet, according to my intelligence, many of you had never met until about two years ago. So how is it that you all speak it as if you were born to it?"

Gil did not answer immediately. When he did, it was with a question of his own. "And what does your intelligence say about me?"

Alex gave Gil a searching look. He did not appear upset or frighten, merely curious. "Until you came here you were living in Tennessee working in the construction field building log houses."

"Not just building them, designing them as well," Gil said with a hint of pride. "We were an eco-friendly company, as they say these days, stressing energy-efficient architecture and utilizing only naturally renewable resources in our construction."

"Sounds as if you enjoyed your work."

"I derived a great deal of satisfaction from it, yes."

"So what induced you to leave all that behind to come here? It’s what I can’t figure out about most of you. Loren, Darren, Dan, Roy, Misty and Della all came here to become elf guides when they found themselves unemployed and simply stayed and apparently took over Elf Academy and somehow the college administration blithely let them. Whatever. But the rest of you... what was the motivation for dropping everything and coming here? How were you even recruited and why? As far as my sources can tell none of you knew of each other’s existence until two summers ago."

"That is true," Gil admitted, "but I’m afraid I’m not presently at liberty to answer your questions. Loren is the only one who can properly explain. I do promise you that you will get an explanation before the weekend is out. Just take it slow. We aren’t important at the moment, you are. We need to address what is happening to you and do what we can to protect you from that which sleeps in the tarn."

For some reason Alex found himself shaking and the sky seemed to darken almost immediately. He’d been able to put aside all thoughts of the tarn and his nightmares while enjoying the company of these people, but Gil mentioning it brought back the terror he’d felt earlier. He vaguely heard Gil swearing softly and then calling to Loren, but he was too caught up in the smothering feeling of the nightmare to pay much attention.

"Alex... Alex, can you hear me?"

Someone was calling him but the name didn’t sound right.

"Artemus."

He gasped and started blinking as if coming out of a dream, finding himself staring into Loren’s eyes, dark with concern.

"Interesting that he responded to Artemus and not to Alex," he heard Ron say.

"It is his real name after all," Ambrose replied drily.

"Yes, but remember who was the swimmer in his nightmare," Ron retorted.

"You believe that to be significant," Ambrose said.

"Well, Freud might have gone on about repression of underlying sexual feelings for his mother, but Jung would’ve been closer to the mark with his talk of archetypes and racial memories."

"Well, considering you studied under both I suppose you would know," Loren said with a faint smile. "I agree that his responding to Artemus rather than to Alex this time is important but just how important remains to be seen. In the meantime, why don’t we get you to bed." He turned to look at Alex with a smile.

"Oh, good. I thought I was invisible for a moment there with everyone talking about me instead of to me," Alex said in reply, his expression sardonic.

Loren had the grace to look apologetic while the others chuckled with quiet amusement. "Sorry about that, truly. We weren’t ignoring you. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Alex said without thinking, and surprisingly, he did feel suddenly exhausted.

"Then bed is the best place for you."

"I’m not feeling sleepy, though, and I’m not sure I want to go to sleep."

"We’ll guard your dreams," Roy said, stepping forward. "One of us will be awake to keep your dreams safe."

"How?" Alex asked, looking skeptical.

"You let us worry about that," Loren said briskly. "Off you go. Roy, why don’t you go with him?"

Before Alex knew it, he and Roy were walking down the path to the house. "I hate all this fuss over a stupid dream."

"A dream the very thought of leaves you shaking like a leaf in a storm," Roy retorted.

"And what’s all this business about Ron studying under Freud and Jung?" Alex demanded, deciding to change the subject. "He’d have to be a pretty old geezer by now if he’d known those two in life."

Roy chuckled. "Old geezer just about nails it. I wouldn’t worry about it. All Loren meant was that Ron is a student of human psychology. He had his own practice as a counselor, helping people solve their emotional problems, before coming here where he acts as a counselor for the students and helps teach self-defense."

"Being a college counselor has to be something of a step down on the social ladder from having one’s own counseling practice," Alex ventured.

Roy shrugged. "He says the hours are better. Now, enough with the questions, Mr. Bond. Go get yourself ready for bed and I’ll make some herbal tea that should help you sleep."

"You’re going to drug me?" Alex asked, lifting an eyebrow in such a way to let Roy know he was not being completely serious.

"Drug you? No, though the idea does have its merits. This is just an herbal concoction that Misty and Della put together that helps your body to relax naturally. They used to own their own herbal remedy store until some chain cashing in on the aromatherapy and herbal medicine trend drove them out of business by undercutting their prices."

Alex nodded, well aware of the ladies’ background, at least as far as it went, which wasn’t very far.

"So, off you go and I’ll be up in about fifteen minutes," Roy said as they entered the kitchen and Alex complied. He was just coming out of the bathroom when Roy showed up with the tea and he dutifully drank it down, though he was not a tea drinker. Still, he had to admit that it had a pleasant taste and aroma and said so.

"A combination of chamomile, valerian root, anise and several other herbs," Roy said. "You should sleep undisturbed through the night."

"And this ward thing you’re supposed to set up?" Alex asked, giving him a skeptical look.

"Already taken care of," Roy said with a smile. "So, if you’ve finished with that, I’ll bid you good-night."

Alex drained the rest of the mug and handed it to him with his thanks and Roy let himself out. Five minutes later, Alex was fast asleep, never hearing Roy re-enter the room some minutes later, settling himself in a chair to take the first watch.

****

During the night the weather turned and Alex woke to rain.

"I bet Derek and the others are wishing they didn’t have to go camping in this," Alex said to Ambrose whom he met in the kitchen after getting dressed.

"Don’t smirk, my boy," Ambrose retorted with a grin. "If everything had gone as planned, you’d be going with them."

"But at least I’ve had experience in camping out in inclement weather." He unconsciously rubbed his shoulder.

Ambrose gave him a shrewd look. "How did you get careless enough to get shot?"

"Who got shot?"

Alex turned to see Loren entering the kitchen and going to the refrigerator to pull out some juice.

"Alex," Ambrose answered. "I was just asking him how he managed to get so careless."

"I wasn’t careless," Alex protested. "Bastard was supposed to have been properly cuffed by one of the other agents. Somehow he managed to remove his bonds and grab a gun. If I hadn’t noticed the odd movement he made just before that, someone would’ve died. I managed to deflect his aim."

"Right into your shoulder," Ambrose said with a lift of an eyebrow.

"Hazards of the trade," Alex retorted with a grim smile. "The wound was non-life threatening and I was released from the hospital after a week. Earned two months vacation which was happily spent in the Bahamas." He paused. "Then I came here."

The look that was exchanged between Ambrose and Loren was unreadable to Alex. Then Loren turned to him. "Well, as interesting as it sounds, we’ll leave that discussion for another time. Alex, you’re free to wander through the house or the gardens or even to go into town or back to the college, though I think you should plan to spend the night here again. You can return to the Academy on Sunday just in time for Derek to tell you all about the wonderful camping trip you’re missing."

"And I will of course be a sympathetic listener," Alex said with a straight face.

The other two chuckled. "Well, some of us have classes to teach and the rest of us have our own work to do," Loren said to Alex. "I’m afraid you’ll be on your own for the morning, at least."

Alex nodded. "I might just hang out here. As it is, Derek didn’t pack any of my rain gear so I don’t think I’ll be going out unless it stops."

"It should clear up around noon or so," Ambrose said, "which should make our campers happy, though I suspect it’ll rain on and off for most of the weekend."

"Well, you can borrow our rain gear if you want," Loren said. "You should find everything you need in the front closet. Just help yourself."

Alex thanked him and then he and Ambrose left. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do that day. He had a feeling that he was going to be rather bored and almost wished he’d been able to go on the camping trip in spite of the weather. Finishing his coffee and toast, he wandered back down the hall towards the front, thinking perhaps he would take advantage of Loren’s offer and grab some rain gear and head into town for a while but when he opened the front door to check on the weather he saw that, if anything, it was raining harder than before.

Deciding he didn’t really want to get that wet, he closed the door with a sigh, and aimlessly wandered through the house until he found his way to the library. Once there he decided to look for something interesting to read. He hadn’t really taken a good look at the room the day before and he was curious about it. When he stepped inside, he was pleasantly surprised to see that a fire was going in the grate, giving the room a warm, inviting look. He wandered about, idly looking at the books on the shelves. Some of them he saw weren’t even in English, but in other languages, a few of them in languages in which he was fluent. He pulled out one that was written in Italian. It was Dante’s Purgatorio from his Divine Comedy. He’d read the Inferno in college but never the other two books. Deciding it was as good a book as any, he settled himself in front of the fireplace and opened it to read:

"Per correr miglior arcque alza le vele, omai na navicella del mio ingegno, cha lascia dietro a sé mar si crudele; e canterò di quel secondo regno dove l’umano spirito si purga e di salire al ciel divento dengo...."

****

Some time later, he looked up from the book to see Darren entering the library. "Ah, there you are," the man said with a smile. "I see you found something to amuse you."

Alex lifted the book so Darren could see. "And in Italian, too. I’m impressed."

Alex shrugged. "Just one of the languages with which I’m fluent."

"Why the Purgatorio?" Darren asked as he knelt before the fire to add another log.

"I read the Inferno back in college as part of my medieval lit. class, but never got around to reading the other two books. I think I like this one better."

"Dante had quite an imagination," Darren said as he took a seat beside Alex. "But if nothing else, the Purgatorio proves that the people of his day were well aware that the world was round and not flat even if his geography is completely wrong."

Alex nodded. "It’s funny how we hang onto the myth that our ancestors were dumber than dirt about things. I guess it allows us to feel superior to them."

"A trait that has always been a part of the human condition, I’m afraid," Darren replied with a slight smile. "Each generation sneers at the ideas of the previous generations as naive or uncouth or just plain wrong, yet, often enough, they are confusing language with concept."

"I’m not sure I understand," Alex said. "Is not language an expression of concept?"

"Yes, and that’s where people confuse the two. ‘Concept’ is essentially a point of view. You have a concept of outer space as an empty void in which lie stars, planets and gases and such. When you speak of ‘outer space’ to someone today, you more or less share the same concept, but were you to go back to Dante’s time and spoke of ‘outer space’, while the words are the same, the concept behind the words would be different. You would be thinking of an endless void but Dante would be thinking of a multitude of spheres inhabited by Light and Love. To you, outer space is a cold, dead place. Nothing exists within it, only on the planets, such as ours, and you see such planets as islands in the sea of emptiness. But for Dante, that was not the case. He saw, not ‘outer space’, but ‘the Heavens’ and the Heavens are full of life. The Heavens are the realms of the angels and ultimately of God and there was a hierarchy of being from the lowest, where the Devil resided, to the highest, where God dwelt and it was no accident of geography that our world was often referred to as Middle-earth."

"But obviously, Dante was wrong," Alex protested.

"Was he?" Darren countered.

"Of course he was! One only has to look at the Hubble telescope photographs to know he was. What was it that Cosmonaut said about not seeing any angels when he was circling the earth?"

"And so, you look at Dante and laugh at his quaint ideas that the universe is full of life whether we can actually see it with our own eyes or not and consider yourself superior to him because of it."

Alex frowned, feeling uncomfortable. "So you’re saying Dante was right?"

"No, I’m saying that Dante’s concept of outer space was different from what it means today, but that doesn’t mean that it was necessarily wrong. It only means that Dante and his contemporaries saw a more humane universe because they believed in the existence of God and believed in His benevolence and His Love." He stood and went to the bookshelf, removing a book and returning, giving it to Alex who saw it was the Paradiso. "Go to the last canto and read the final four lines."

Alex gave him a quizzical look but did as he was told, reading the lines aloud: "A l’alta fantasia qui mancò possa; ma già volgeva il mio disio e ’l velle, sì come rota ch’igualmente è mossa, l’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle."

"How would you translate line one-forty-two?" Darren asked.

"Hmm...’Here vigor failed the lofty fantasy...’"

"And how is fantasy translated? What is its meaning?"

"Well, it’s making up stuff, like fantasy novels, so Dante’s admitting he’s made it all up."

Darren scowled, and for some inexplicable reason, Alex felt as if he’d just failed an important test, only he didn’t know what it was about. "Dante was admitting to no such thing, child."

Alex felt his eyebrows leave his forehead at someone who looked no older than he was calling him ‘child’. Before he could comment on it though, Darren continued his lecture. "Today, we equate fantasy with ‘making up images out of our own imaginations’ but for Dante, it was just the opposite. For him, fantasy meant the power to receive images and those images originate from God. In short, Dante is admitting only to the fact that he has reached the end of his capacity to receive the vision he’s been granted, for vision is a function of the intellect and not the soul. But beyond that, what does the last line say?"

Alex glanced at the page again. "‘The Love which moves the sun and other stars.’"

Darren nodded. "And there you have it. For Dante, outer space was not an endless empty void that is, for all we know, eternally expanding. For him, outer space was the realm of Love, a Love that permeates everything so that there was nothing outside of it. The very fabric of the universe was created in Love. So, who’s concept of the universe is the more accurate, his or yours?"

"In that so-called history of the elves that we’re studying, it says the elves believed that the universe was created from music," Alex said, not quite ready to answer Darren’s question.

"A lovely concept, don’t you think, and quite an ancient one that you moderns have forgotten. The idea of the ‘Music of the Spheres’ is a dim echo of it."

"You speak as if you believe that’s how it happened."

"And is that wrong?" Darren countered. "Is your concept of a Big Bang really that more accurate? What excites your imagination more, Alex? The fact that the universe was created from a seemingly random explosion of immense power, or the fact that it was created from an explosion of intense Love, a Love that manifested itself aurally as music, which is really mathematics in its purist form? Do you prefer a dead universe or a live one? Do you prefer a universe that has no room for wonder, no room for Elves, for instance, or one that does, whether they truly existed or not?"

And not waiting to hear Alex’s answer, if, indeed, he could have actually given one, Darren stood and said, "Holly made some chicken noodle soup. Feel free to have some for lunch." Then he walked to the door and opened it, stopping at the threshold to look back at Alex. "I think old Will said it best: ‘There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy’."

With that, Darren left, closing the door behind him, leaving Alex to ponder many things.

****

Notes:

1. The quotes from Dante’s Divine Comedy:

The opening lines of the Purgatorio are translated as:

‘To course across more kindly waters now my talent’s little vessel lifts her sails, leaving behind herself a sea so cruel; and what I sing will be that second kingdom, in which the human soul is cleansed of sin, becoming worthy of ascent to Heaven.’ [Purgatorio, Canto I:1-6]

The final lines of the Paradiso are translated as:

‘Here force failed my high fantasy; but my desire and will were moved already — like a wheel revolving uniformly — by the Love that moves the sun and the other stars.’ [Paradiso, Canto XXXIII: 142-45]

Both are taken from the Allen Mandelbaum translation. Alex’s translations are derived from the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow translation.

2. Daeron’s quoting William Shakespeare is taken from Hamlet, Act I, scene 5.

19: The Unmaking of Artemus Gordon Meriwether

As Ambrose had predicted, the rain stopped shortly after the noon hour. Feeling restless, Alex grabbed a coat from the front closet and stepped outside, taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh scent of rain-soaked air. The purple-black clouds were already breaking apart and the sun was peeking through, its shafts of light turning the raindrops on the trees into glittering diamonds. Already, leaves were turning and many had fallen, carpeting the ground with dull golds and reds.

He walked out to the street and paused, not entirely sure which direction to take. If he turned left he would eventually return to the college, right would take him into town. By now Derek would be on his way to the camp site. He wasn’t sure who else he knew would be going, and really there was not much else for him to do at the college, so with a shrug he turned right.

He was still unsure how he felt about things, especially now that his cover had been blown and Darren had left much for him to think about. His mission had changed, but what that meant exactly he did not know. In all his years as an agent he’d never had his cover blown, right up to the very last minute when he revealed himself to those who thought him ‘one of us’. He had enjoyed the looks of shock and betrayal on the faces of his ‘comrades’ even as he helped cuff them. He had no pity for the scum who would plot the deaths of innocents while spouting fine-sounding slogans about ‘cleansing the world of the evil government in solidarity with our oppressed brothers and sisters’. No. Artemus Gordon Meriwether had no sympathy for any of that lot.

What about Alex Grant, though?

He slowed his walk as he thought about that. These people knew who and what he was, knew his rightful name, but chose to continue calling him ‘Alex’. On one level he understood this: they may know who he really was but no one else did and it was best to maintain the fiction to avoid confusion and awkward questions. On the other hand, he had the feeling that in calling him by his alias rather than by his actual name, they were subtly letting him know that they approved of ‘Alex’ but not necessarily of ‘Artemus’.

Who are you in the dream?

Those words haunted him. Who was he, indeed? Was he ‘Alex’ watching ‘Artemus’ drown? Was he someone else? He had a host of different aliases, each one carefully crafted. Some of them he did not like, for he’d been forced to play roles that were distasteful to him, yet had been absolutely necessary in order to achieve his goals. Those he gratefully put aside once he had no further use for them, yet he could not deny that they were a part of him, a part of his psyche, for he had always drawn his alter egos from within himself. It was something Ambrose had taught him in order to give the role verisimilitude. It had meant, in some cases, tapping into the darker regions of his soul and that was another thing Ambrose had taught him.

"We all have our dark side," he remembered his mentor explaining. "Most of us refuse to acknowledge it, fearing it, but if we befriend the less noble aspects of ourselves we can sometimes use them to our benefit. An agent never scorns any weapon that may come his way, including the basest aspects of his self."

It was a lesson he had taken to heart as he took on various assignments, always keeping in mind the other half of the lesson:

"Don’t let the dark side take over," Ambrose had admonished. "It is not to be allowed. Use it as a tool but do not embrace it as a lover. That way leads only to destruction of the soul. Never forget who truly is in charge." And he had tapped a finger on Artemus’ forehead for emphasis. It was a lesson he had striven never to forget and he thought that for the most part he had succeeded in not losing his soul as so many other agents had.

But was that true, or rather was it the whole truth? Did Loren and the others see something within him that belied his own belief that he had safeguarded his soul all these years? Perhaps he hadn’t done as good a job as he’d thought and this is what they saw when they saw ‘Artemus’ and therefore preferred to be addressing ‘Alex’. It was a sobering thought and apparently the tarn was part of the puzzle. He simply didn’t know enough to figure out in what manner.

"Hey, Alex!"

Alex stopped and looked about at the sound of his name and saw a van had stopped and recognized Zach, who’d opened the passenger side window to call out. He sauntered over and leaned on the door.

"Need a lift?" Zach asked.

"I’m heading into town," Alex answered.

"Anywhere in particular?"

Alex shook his head. "I just needed to stretch my legs. I’ve been cooped up all morning."

"Well, hop in. I’m heading for Bettles myself and I would welcome the company."

Alex opened the door and got inside. "What’s in Bettles?"

"The airport. My friend Shane’s mom is visiting and I agreed to pick her up. Shane lost a filling and is at the dentist having it replaced, so I told her I would go in her stead."

Alex nodded and buckled up. "I’m not expected back until dinner. Loren has insisted that I stay the weekend at the mansion."

Zach nodded as he moved the car back onto the street. "He was really worried about you. We all were."

"I told him off for yelling at you," Alex said with a grin. "He told me off for telling him off."

Zach laughed. "That’s Loren, all right. I wouldn’t worry about it. I deserved being told off for what I did."

"How’s Caleb and the other kids?"

"They’re fine. Nicole was less than pleased but once she calmed down and realized that Caleb had not suffered anything but getting wet, she forgave me."

"I’m glad. Did you ever find out who those hikers were?"

Zach shook his head. "No, not really. I’m just grateful that they showed up when they did."

"So am I," Alex said.

"How are you doing?"

Alex shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Still have nightmares about it. That’s why Loren insisted I stay with him and the others. He knew I’d be alone this weekend otherwise with Derek off camping."

"And have they been able to help you?" Zach said and the diffident manner in which the question was asked alerted Alex and he gave his friend a shrewd look.

"Do you believe in elves?" he asked instead, and then sat there wondering where that question had come from, yet he was curious to see Zach’s reaction as his hands suddenly tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles practically white.

"Wh-what?"

"Elves. Do you believe in them or perhaps I should say, do you believe in the possibility that they could exist even if they don’t?"

"And what brought this on?" Zach asked and Alex knew it for an evasion, but answered readily enough.

"Something Darren said when we happened to be discussing Dante. He asked me what sort of universe I preferred to live in, one where there is the possibility that elves can exist or one where they don’t. I was just curious as to which kind of universe you preferred."

"Well, seeing as how I joined Elf Academy, I think the answer is obvious," Zach replied with a grin, his grip on the steering wheel loosening somewhat.

"So do you believe elves can exist?" Alex insisted.

Zach gave him a puzzled look. "Why does it matter to you what I believe? Isn’t what you believe the question you’re trying to ask?"

Alex leaned back into his seat, giving his friend a considering look, then nodding. "You’re right. I need to decide for myself without insisting on knowing what others believe."

"For what it’s worth, though, I do believe that Elves can exist. Whether they truly do, is something else again."

Alex grunted in reply and turned away to look out the window at the passing scenery and for a while they rode in silence. When they picked up the conversation again, they kept to more general topics about Alex’s progress in archery and Zach’s work as Loren’s administrative assistant.

Eventually they reached Bettles and Zach made his way to the small airport where they learned that the flight from Fairbanks would be arriving in about fifteen minutes. They watched the plane land and the passengers disembark, claiming their luggage at the bottom of the steps. Zach had brought a large sign with him with the name ‘BECKER’ written on it. As the passengers entered the terminal he held it up. Several people went by and then a woman with dark frizzy hair and a scowl walked up to them, lugging several pieces of luggage behind her.

"I’m Sheila Becker."

"Hello and welcome to Alaska, Mrs. Becker," Zach said. "I’m Zachary Austin, a friend of Shane."

"And my daughter couldn’t be bothered to meet me herself, her own mother?" the woman demanded, her accent definitely Brooklynese.

"Shane lost a filling and I left her at the dentist," Zach said smoothly. "This is my friend, Alex Grant. Can we take your luggage for you? My van is just outside."

Sheila Becker nodded her thanks and Alex quickly took possession of a couple of the bags while Zach grabbed the rest. They headed outside to the van and stowed everything away while Sheila Becker looked on with disapproval. "A filling," they heard her mutter. "I come all the way here and she loses a filling. The nerve of her."

Alex and Zach exchanged surprised looks and then Alex rolled his eyes as Zach grinned. "I’m sure she didn’t do it on purpose, Mrs. Becker," Zach said solicitously.

"You don’t know my daughter," she retorted and Alex could see Zach fighting to hold his tongue as they all climbed into the van.

If the ride to Bettles had been made in comfortable companionship between the two men, the ride back was definitely uncomfortable. Sheila Becker kept up a running monologue of complaints, clearly believing the world was conspiring to give her grief, from the fact that the plane from Fairbanks was a half hour late in leaving due to the weather to the fact that her own daughter had the temerity to lose a filling on the day of her arrival. Both men exchanged amused looks though Alex noticed that Zach’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, apparently holding himself back with great effort from contradicting the woman with regards to her daughter. Alex was beginning to regret accompanying Zach on this trip and he had a suspicion that Zach was regretting having volunteered in the first place.

The trip finally ended with Zach pulling up at the one hotel Wiseman could boast, the Goldmine Inn, and Alex busied himself with getting Sheila’s luggage out of the van with the help of a bellhop while Zach escorted the woman inside to register, promising the still complaining woman that Shane would be there as soon as possible.

"She didn’t have an appointment and would have to be squeezed in, so she may be awhile," he heard Zach explain.

Eventually Sheila Becker was safely registered and shown to her room. Zach gave her Shane’s phone number and explained that she shared the apartment with two others, giving their names. Then he and Alex left the still fuming woman to her own devices. Zach offered to drop Alex off at the mansion.

"Now I know why Shane was so upset when she learned her mom was coming to visit," Zach said as they climbed back into the van. Alex chuckled.

In a matter of minutes Zach was pulling up in front of the mansion and Alex thanked him for an interesting trip. "Though I could’ve done without that woman’s constant complaining. I wanted to tell you to pull over so we could chuck her out and make her walk to Wiseman."

Zach laughed. "You and me both. I’ll see you later." With that he drove off and Alex made his way back inside the house where he happened to meet Ron as he was hanging up his coat.

"Ah, there you are. We’d wondered where you’d gone to," the man said.

"I wasn’t aware that my comings and goings were of any concern of yours or anyone else’s," Alex said somewhat defensively.

The man frowned. "You’re not a prisoner, Alex, but our guest. We were just concerned, that’s all. You’ve been missing from action since lunchtime from what Darren said."

"Sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I was walking into town and Zach Austin drove by and offered me a lift and then I ended up going with him to Bettles to pick up his friend’s mom."

"Ah, yes, Shane. So, Mrs. Becker arrived all right?"

"Yes, and she never stopped complaining all the way back. If it wasn’t one thing it was another, but it mostly centered around the fact that Shane wasn’t there to meet her. She apparently lost a filling this morning and was at the dentist so Zach said he would pick her mom up. It was a very long trip back."

Ron chuckled. "I can just imagine. Now that you’re back, I think we should talk."

"About what?" Alex demanded warily.

"About you," Ron replied. "If you need to freshen up, do so, then please join me in the library."

"And if I refuse," Alex asked, keeping his tone neutral.

Ron shrugged. "That’s your decision, Alex, but if we’re to deal with the underlying reason for those nightmares, I think you would want to cooperate. I promise we will do nothing more than talk. We’re trying to help you, if you would just let us."

"Why?"

"Perhaps because we believe you’re worth saving," Ron answered. "I’ll be in the library if you care to join me." He sauntered off down the hall. Alex stood there for a few indecisive seconds and then followed in Ron’s wake, stopping at the downstairs lavatory for a moment before going to the library where he found Ron sitting in front of the fire apparently reading. Ron looked up and smiled as he entered, gesturing for Alex to come in even as he closed the book and put it aside. Alex closed the door and joined him by the fireplace. A table sat between them on which was a coffee urn and a couple of mugs. Ron poured some coffee into one of the mugs and handed it to Alex who thanked him.

"Darren said you were reading Dante when he found you this morning," Ron said as he poured some coffee for himself. "He told me something of the conversation you two had about him."

"And is Darren in the habit of telling everyone he meets about the contents of private conversations?" Alex demanded somewhat heatedly, rising to leave. "If so, I think I’ll just skip this one. God knows who you’ll go blabbing to."

"Sit down, Alex, and stop acting so put-upon." The words were quietly spoken yet there was a ring of authority to them that Alex could not ignore and he reluctantly resumed his seat, glowering at the flames.

"First of all," Ron said after a moment, "Darren said nothing to me about what you told him. He merely told me that you and he had an interesting conversation about Dante and his works. Second of all, I don’t go blabbing to anyone about anything that is told to me even in casual conversation, certainly not when I’m counseling another."

Alex looked up, still unconvinced. "And is this a counseling session? Sorry, I don’t recall making an appointment to see a shrink."

For a long moment Ron merely looked at him and while there was no sense of condemnation in his grey-eyed gaze, Alex had the strangest feeling that he’d somehow disappointed the man. He looked away, feeling suddenly ashamed of himself. Ron was only trying to help, and he knew he needed it, but all his defenses were up and he had no idea how to lower them. It wasn’t as if he’d never been in a counseling session before. It was mandatory for agents to see in-house psychologists on a yearly basis to discuss their feelings about their assignments and to address any emotional problems they might have. But somehow this felt different and he wasn’t sure in what respect, only that he was suddenly wary of the motives of those around him.

"Why are you doing this?" he suddenly asked, looking up. When Ron lifted an eyebrow in enquiry, he elaborated his question. "Why do any of you care what happens to me? I’m the enemy. So why do you all pretend to like me and want to help me?"

"We are not pretending, Alex," Ron answered. "Nor do we consider you our enemy. Oh, don’t get me wrong. We realize the threat you represent, not only to Ryan, but to all of us at Elf Academy, but we don’t see you as an enemy, merely as a potential ally."

"Do you seriously think I will ever ally myself with you people against my own government? Abandon my mission?" Alex demanded. "Ambrose or Ryan or whatever he’s calling himself these days may have gone rogue but I’m not about to."

"And yet, aren’t you already in defiance?" Ron asked. "How are you dealing with Mr. Farrell, for instance?"

Alex leaned back in his chair. "Mainly by ignoring him," he replied with a grim smile. "Oh, he gets a report from me every Friday just before noon without fail, but it’s always the same report. He may think he’s in charge, but I’m the agent in the field. I do as I see fit and no one, not even God himself, can tell me otherwise. Until I receive a direct command from Washington to pull out, I’m still in the game and I call the shots."

Ron nodded, his expression contemplative. Silence settled between the two of them for a few moments and Alex took a sip or two of his coffee. Then Ron gave him a considering look. "Tell me what happened at the tarn."

The mug slipped out of Alex’s suddenly nerveless fingers as the blood drained from his face and he started shaking. Only Ron’s quick reflexes in catching the mug saved him from being burned by the hot drink. Alex didn’t even notice. He was back in the tarn, and all around him was inky blackness.

Do you want to be rescued?.... be rescued?.... rescued?

The words echoed and re-echoed through his mind and soul.

"Alex... Alex...á entulë i-cálenna!’

Alex did not recognize the words, but he felt the power behind them and found himself blinking, and saw Ron kneeling before him, rubbing his arms. He suddenly realized he was freezing in spite of the fact that the fire was blazing warmly and he could not stop trembling. Ron stood up and walked to the door, opening it. Alex was vaguely aware that he was speaking to someone but he couldn’t quite catch what was being said. Then Ron returned with an afghan and, kneeling in front of him again, he covered him with it.

"It’s all right, Alex," he said soothingly. "You’re safe. No harm can come to you here. Keep breathing, child. It will be well, I promise."

There was a knock on the door and then someone entered. Alex had closed his eyes and did not see who it was, but he smelled a fresh scent that filled the air, recognizing the scent from the night before. He felt himself begin to relax, the trembling slowing. He opened his eyes with a sigh to see Roy standing beside him with a bowl of steaming water from which the scent arose, his face full of concern.

"That’s it, Alex," he heard Ron say. "Breathe and be refreshed. See you, the darkness has fled and the light returns."

Alex breathed deeply and the cobwebs of terror that had assailed him shredded away and he relaxed even more, leaning back into his chair, feeling suddenly tired. He may even have fallen asleep for a time, for when he came to himself again, he found that the room was now filled with people. Loren was there, along with Ambrose, Dan and Darren. They were standing away from him holding a soft conversation with Ron and Roy. It was Loren who noticed him stirring and they broke off their conversation. Ron resumed his seat and Loren brought a chair for himself. The others stood on either side of the fireplace, facing Alex.

"Feeling better?" Loren asked solicitously.

"As opposed to what?" Alex croaked, his throat parched. Ron poured some more coffee from the urn and handed it to him.

"It’s still hot," he assured him and Alex took a grateful sip, relishing the bitterness of the drink, which seemed to drive away the last of the cobwebs from his mind.

"You want to tell us about it?" Loren asked after a moment.

"Nothing to tell," Alex said. "Ron asked me what happened at the tarn and then I was suddenly back there, drowning." He gave them a frown. "Why is it that when I speak or think of it, nothing happens, but whenever anyone else does, I freak out?"

"And that is what we need to discover," Ron said. He turned to the others. "Any theories?"

For a moment no one spoke and Alex occupied himself with drinking the coffee. Then Ambrose stirred. "Conditioning," he said.

Alex looked up in surprise and the others gave Ambrose bemused looks. "Would you like to explain?" Loren asked with the lift of an eyebrow.

But Ambrose did not answer immediately. Instead, he moved to stand before Alex, forcing the younger man to look up. "I’m going to try something, if you will allow it."

"Try what?"

Ambrose shook his head. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"I used to," Alex replied in a small voice.

Ambrose’s expression saddened. "Can you trust me a little longer, son?"

For a moment Alex only stared at his former mentor, memories of earlier times when a certain Ambrose Elwood took a young recruit under his wings and treated him like a son in truth coming to the fore. Never having known his father, Ambrose had become a father-substitute and he’d been grateful for the older man’s guidance and friendship. He remembered the feelings of loss at Ambrose’s supposed death and the sense of betrayal he still felt at the subterfuge.

"I loved you as if you were my own father," he whispered, more to himself than to the man standing before him, "and then you betrayed my love."

"And I have always regretted having to do so," Ambrose said softly. "Believe me, had there been any other way...." He shrugged and Alex could see the sincerity of the regret in his eyes.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, implicitly letting Ambrose know that he forgave him.

"Nothing that will harm you," the man responded, "just something I want to try. It may help us understand what is happening to you."

Alex glanced at the others, all of them looking on dispassionately, their emotions hidden behind unreadable expressions. He realized that, for the moment, this was just between him and Ambrose. He looked at Ambrose again and nodded.

"Sit back and relax," Ambrose said, taking the coffee mug out of Alex’s hand and placing it on the table. "Breathe normally and look at me." Alex complied and between one blink and the next, Ambrose seemed to change before his eyes. At first he thought he was simply seeing the reflection of the fire illuminating Ambrose, but then he realized that the man was actually glowing. It was a faint aura but definitely there. He started to comment, but forgot about it as he stared into Ambrose’s eyes and felt himself drawn deeper and deeper into his gaze.

He felt a sense of panic rising in him as he realized he could not look away as much as he wanted to. Ambrose reached out with a single finger, touched his forehead, and whispered a word that Alex did not know and then everything went black....

****

"...planted that suggestion in his mind as part of his training."

Alex heard someone speaking but could not immediately put a name to the voice. His eyes were still closed but he could tell he was no longer sitting up but lying down. He tried to move and panic began to set in when he discovered he couldn’t. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring up at the library ceiling and then noticed that Dan, Roy, Ron and Barry were holding him down. He had no memory of Barry being there earlier and wondered how much time had passed and what had happened. Barry, kneeling on his left, saw him and smiled grimly.

"He’s awake," he said and immediately, Ambrose, Loren and Darren were there. Alex stared up at Ambrose in consternation.

"What happened?" he whispered hoarsely, and was surprised at the rawness of his throat.

"Let him up," Ambrose said and the four men released their hold on him. Barry and Dan helped him to his feet and as they led him to a chair he noticed that the room was a shambles with some of the furniture in splinters and several books thrown about. One of the tapestries was off the wall and crumpled in a heap where it had fallen. He noticed that some of the others sported bruises and he was feeling a bit bruised himself. Ambrose knelt before him, taking one of Alex’s wrists in his hand and feeling his pulse while Ron handed him a glass of water which he accepted gratefully.

"What happened?" he demanded a second time after draining the glass, handing it back to Ron.

"You remember during your training that you underwent hypnosis?" Ambrose asked.

Alex nodded. "The failsafe in case something happened and I needed to be subdued... or terminated."

Ambrose smiled. "Well, the trigger was a word that sounds very similar to ‘tarn’."

Alex stiffened, but Ambrose patted him on the arm. "It’s all right. I removed the suggestion. The word will no longer affect you."

"What was the word you used?"

"Tauron. Yes, I know it’s not quite the same, but I think what happened was that in the brief period of time when you died, the barriers around that suggestion were eroded. Originally, if I or another who knew that the trigger was ‘Tauron’ used it on you, you would’ve become incapacitated. Whenever someone said the word ‘tarn’, it was close enough in sound that it worked on you in a similar fashion."

"So what happened? Why were you all holding me down?"

Ambrose sighed as he stood up. "When I used the actual trigger word, you exploded. You did the opposite of what you were supposed to do. Your training took over completely and it’s only because of who we are that we were able to subdue you long enough for me to remove the trigger from your mind. Or, not remove it so much as modify it so you don’t suffer the same reaction whether you heard the word ‘Tauron’ or ‘tarn’."

"Who else knows the trigger word?" Loren asked, frowning.

"Only I know it," Ambrose replied.

"Oh? And how did you manage to get away with that?" Loren retorted.

"From the beginning, I knew Artemus was special. I do not have the same ability of foresight as is common among you Noldor but I had a sense that of all the humans I’d been forced to train in espionage, he was different and I made sure he continued being different. I’d long been entrusted to do what the Agency felt necessary to protect itself and its agents with the hypnotic suggestions that would help control them, so it was simple enough to tell them a different word than the one I actually used on Artemus. It was, I confess, the one and only time I ever used a word from Sindarin. Usually I just chose a rarely used word in English as the trigger and often enough, I used the same word with more than one agent. There’s a record, accessible to only three people in the Agency, with a list of the trigger words associated with each agent. If, for some reason, someone decided that they needed to use it on Artemus, they would’ve been rather surprised when it didn’t work." He gave Alex a grim smile as he looked down at him.

"So what does this mean?" Alex asked.

"For now, it simply means that you need not fear that any mention of the tarn will have an adverse effect on you," Ambrose said. "It means that we can deal with the underlying cause of the nightmares themselves without fear of setting you off one way or the other."

"Do you think I need to deal with the nightmares?" Alex asked, frowning. "Wouldn’t they go away now?"

"Unlikely," Ron answered for Ambrose. "Something happened to you in that tarn, Alex, something that still needs to be addressed, if you’re willing to let us help."

After a minute, Alex nodded, leaning his head back against the chair and closing his eyes. "Life was so much simpler when all I had to do was pretend I was a flaming terrorist," he said, feeling suddenly defeated for some strange reason. There were chuckles all around and he felt someone clap him on the shoulder. Opening his eyes he saw Loren looking at him with amusement, a faint smile on his face.

"Dinner will be ready in about an hour or so. Why don’t you go freshen up and then join us in the kitchen? You can sit there and cut up vegetables for the salad. Doing something that mindless should help steady you."

"Can I take a shower first?" Alex asked. "Suddenly I feel... unclean or something."

Loren glanced first at Ambrose and then at Ron who spoke. "An understandable reaction, but you are not unclean or tainted or however you want to put it. I want you to remember that. I do think, though, that a hot shower will help restore your equilibrium, so go ahead and have your shower, but then join us in the kitchen. I don’t think you should be alone yet."

Alex nodded and started to rise from the chair, his legs feeling shaky. Barry grabbed an elbow to steady him. "Why don’t I see you safely upstairs?" he suggested. "I’ll hang around in case you need help."

"Thanks," Alex said with a grateful smile.

Loren nodded at them. "We’ll see you in the kitchen in a little while then."

"Roy and I will clean up the mess here," Dan volunteered and Loren agreed as the rest headed out of the library with Barry keeping a solicitous hand on Alex’s elbow as they made their way up the stairs.

****

Á entulë i-cálenna: (Quenya) ‘Return to the light’.

Tauron: (Sindarin) ‘Forester’; also a title of Oromë, known as Araw among the Sindarin and Silvan Elves.

20: Dancing in the Rain

Between the shower and a salve that Barry gave him for his bruises, Alex was feeling less wobbly by the time they reached the kitchen. He tried to apologize for what he’d done, but Loren waved his apology away and simply pointed to the island where he dutifully sat and began cutting up tomatoes and cucumbers while the others bustled about with their own tasks. Roy and Dan came in shortly thereafter announcing the library had been put in order.

"Sorry," Alex said, trying to apologizing again. "I didn’t mean...."

"It’s all right, Alex," Loren said as he turned from the stove where he was stirring the sauce for the spaghetti. "As a friend of mine used to say, ‘no blood, no blame’. At least we’ve learned what was causing you to react as you have and have dealt with it. Now all we have to do is concentrate on those nightmares. Even with the warding, we can still sense your dreams are troubled."

Alex frowned as he lit the candle that Barry had placed on the island before he began cutting up an onion. "How do you know that? I don’t remember having any bad dreams last night."

"But you had them nonetheless," Ron said. "As to how we know...." He paused and Alex did not fail to see the questioning look he gave Loren or the slight shake of the head that Loren gave in answer. Ron turned back to Alex. "A discussion for another time. If you’re done cutting up the onion, you can toss the salad and put it on the table."

Alex recognized an evasion when he heard it and was ready to protest and demand answers, but something in the way Ron looked at him, in the way the others watched him, warned him that no answers would be forthcoming. He scowled, ready to simply refuse to do as he was bid and leave the house altogether. He could always find something to eat in town or go back to the college. Before he could say anything though, Ambrose came over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You’re not ready to hear what we may have to say, son."

"How do you know?" Alex retorted.

Ambrose chuckled. "Because I know you, remember? I know you better than you know yourself. You can’t possibly appreciate what I did to you, how I destroyed your innocence, broke you down and rebuilt you into what and who you are today."

"You were training me," Alex said, feeling a little confused. "I don’t blame you for that. You did what you did to keep me alive and I’m grateful, truly."

"It still doesn’t change things," Ambrose said with a sigh. "Trust me when I tell you that you’re not ready for what we may have to say to you, but I promise that you will be soon. Just be patient."

"As if I have a choice," Alex snarled.

"You do have a choice, Alex," Loren said. "You may leave this house at any time before four o’clock Sunday afternoon, when Derek should be back from camping, and no one will stop you, but if you do, all chances of finding out the truth will be lost. If you leave now, you will not find the answers you are seeking. In fact, you will have no choice but to leave Wiseman altogether, for I will make sure everyone knows who you really are and why you’re really here. The decision is yours."

The absolute coldness of the man’s tone struck Alex to the core and he stared at Loren in shock. There was no give in his expression; his gaze was steely and implacable, and Alex knew he meant business. He stole a glance at the others looking on and saw the same expression on their faces, even Ambrose’s, though he thought he saw a hint of sorrow in his mentor’s eyes as well.

For a long eternal moment no one moved or spoke and Alex knew they were all waiting for his decision. He stared at the candle that was still burning, weighing all the consequences of what would happen if he did leave and he realized with cold certainty that if he left, if Loren did as he’d threatened — and he had no reason to believe otherwise — then his life was forfeit. He would have to go into hiding, become a rogue. The Agency could not afford to let him live otherwise. He glanced at Ambrose, who seemed to know what conclusions he’d come to, for the man nodded slightly.

He looked at Loren, standing by the stove with a wooden spoon in his hand, wearing a chef’s apron that had the words ‘Kiss Me. I’m Cooking’ across the front. He should have looked ridiculous, but there was nothing ridiculous about him. Alex intuitively sensed the power that the man kept hidden for the most part. He didn’t understand it, or what it meant, but he respected it.

"Don’t let the sauce burn," he said as he blew out the candle and picked up the salad bowl. There was a noticeable easing of tension all around and Loren gave him a brilliant smile that somehow made everything all right. Alex found himself smiling shyly back as he took the salad bowl into the dining room.

****

The rest of the evening was spent quietly. Conversations were general in nature and revolved mainly around domestic themes that might be heard in any household. Alex had thought to retire to his room after dinner, but the others convinced him to join them in going out to the Blue Petrel for a drink or two. It seemed to be a customary excursion on Friday nights. The only one in the household who was not there was Gil, for he’d gone with the campers.

"We take turns helping to chaperone along with the Rangers who accompany the students," Barry told him when he enquired. "I’ll be going next weekend."

The Blue Petrel itself was packed but somehow they were able to find a corner for themselves. Alex noticed the looks of respect on the faces of the other patrons and the warm greetings that were given when Loren and the others entered the establishment. And apparently, they’d been coming here often enough that the bartender simply started pouring a variety of drinks and setting them on a tray for one of the waitresses, who came over and handed each of them their drinks without hesitating.

"Sorry," Loren said to Alex. "If you give Maggie your order, she’ll be right back with it."

"An Amstel Light," Alex replied and with a nod the young woman walked away, returning shortly thereafter with Alex’s order. Pretzels and popcorn were already on the table, but she brought a couple more bowls for them, for they were a large group.

No one importuned them and they were left to themselves. Alex had half expected someone to ask Darren for a song, but apparently, since the man had not brought any musical instrument with him this time, it was understood that no songs would be forthcoming. As it was, there was already a local bluegrass band playing there and Alex and the others sat back and enjoyed the music.

They did not stay late and as they were returning home it began to rain again. "I’m so glad I’m not camping tonight," Alex said fervently and everyone laughed.

When they arrived at the mansion, the others bid Alex a good night. Roy and Dan joined him in the bedroom after he had gotten ready for bed, bringing with them a bowl of scented water with which they warded the bed itself.

"Hopefully, this will help," Dan said when they were done. "Have a good night." The two left and Alex crawled into bed, turning off the light. He did not fall asleep immediately, for he had much to think about, but eventually sleep took him and if he dreamed, he did not remember.

****

It was still raining when Alex awoke the next day. Making his way down to the kitchen, he encountered Loren who was toasting a bagel.

"We have an administrative meeting at nine o’clock and then I have to go teach," Loren said. "If the rain clears up, we plan to have a picnic later in the afternoon, otherwise, we’ll just eat in. Some of our friends will be joining us."

"I can go into town and get something there," Alex said.

Loren shook his head. "No. You’re more than welcome to eat here. Zach will be here and Nicole and her kids will be coming as well."

Alex nodded. "Then what should I do in the meantime?"

"You could spend the morning looking over the assignments you’ve missed this past week," Loren suggested. "After lunch, I think we should sit down and discuss certain matters, don’t you?"

Alex grimaced slightly. "I suppose. In all my years in this business this is the first time my cover’s been blown by anyone but myself. I’m not sure how to handle it or what it may mean."

"And that is something that needs to be addressed," Loren said. "In the meantime, continue as you have. If you have to send any reports in to your superiors, do so, though I would caution you not to let them know that we know. It can be dangerous for everyone concerned."

"I know, nor do I have any intention of letting anyone know. As it is, I’m not required to contact anyone while under cover except when I’m ready to make a bust. I’ve sometimes gone for months without contacting anyone. They will not find it unusual that I do not do so now, but Farrell does concern me. His presence and his insistence that he’s in charge is against all protocol and the fact that I wasn’t informed by the Deputy Director personally makes it all the more suspicious."

"Then we will address that situation as we can," Loren said, taking a bite of his bagel.

There was the sudden ringing of the front doorbell. "Ah... Duty calls," Loren said with a salute and sauntered out. Alex followed him out of curiosity but stopped in the hallway where he was unlikely to be noticed. A number of people were coming inside, shedding their rain gear and generally complaining about being wet even as Loren greeted them merrily, laughing, and saying a little rain never hurt anyone. He saw Zach and Phil Gordon but did not recognize anyone else.

"Well, as my mom used to say, ‘You’re not the Wicked Witch of the West. You won’t melt’," a young woman with oriental features said and everyone laughed.

Loren spoke to another young woman whose features looked familiar. "So how is your mother settling in?" he asked and Alex realized the woman must be Shane of the missing filling.

She rolled her eyes. "Don’t get me started, please. She was very upset that I didn’t come to meet her at the airport and then today you’d think I was a traitor or something because I was coming here instead of spending the morning listening to her complaining about everything under the sun."

"Well, bring her along tonight for the picnic," Loren said. "I’d like to meet her."

Then they were trooping down a different hallway that Alex knew led to what had been the billiards room but was now a conference room. No one seemed to notice him and when he heard the conference room close, he felt oddly alone and half-wished he could sit in on the meeting. Giving himself a shrug, he went back to the kitchen to finish his breakfast and then, not having anything better to do, went upstairs to his room to pick up his textbooks, bringing them downstairs to the library where a fire was already going and settled in to study.

****

Alex heard voices and the closing of a door and, checking the time, realized he’d been engrossed in his studies for nearly an hour. Apparently the meeting was over with. He stood and stretched and went over to the fireplace to put on a couple of new logs. It was still raining, and in fact, from the sound of it, it seemed that the storm had intensified and he was heartily glad he wasn’t out in it. He decided he wanted some coffee before going back to his studies and wandered down to the kitchen, encountering no one along the way.

The house seemed unusually quiet and he had the strangest feeling he was alone. Grabbing a mug and pouring himself a cup he glanced out the window above the sink and gasped in shock, the coffee forgotten as he spied an elk standing in the middle of the garden. He blinked, not sure he was actually seeing it, wondering how an elk had gotten there. But what was even more amazing was that the woman, Alfa Shepherd, who apparently was a master weaver and taught fabric arts at the college, was standing there petting its nose and speaking to it, for he could see her mouth moving. She seemed oblivious to the rain falling. In fact, she wasn’t even wearing any rain gear, simply a white summer dress that was plastered against her lithe body. She was also barefoot. And in the darkness of the storm, he thought she was glowing ever so slightly.

He watched as the elk seemingly bowed its great head to her and then walked calmly away, moving around the side of the house and Alex suspected it must have come in through the front gate. He watched Alfa standing there as the elk moved away, half expecting her to come inside, but instead, she lifted her arms and twirled slowly around, her face uplifted, her eyes half-closed and then to Alex’s complete amazement she began to dance.

And somewhere in the distance he thought he heard a flute playing.

He stood there mesmerized, lost in the haunting sound of the flute, lost in the beauty of the woman’s dance. Her wet dress did not seem to impede her graceful movements at all and Alex marveled at the way she practically floated through the garden. It seemed as if time stood still and he could’ve been standing there for an eternity. Then the woman’s dancing took her further into the garden and out of his sight.

"No!" he cried out, almost in despair.

"Alex."

He felt someone shaking him and blinked as if coming out of a deep sleep.

"Alex."

Turning reluctantly away from the window he found himself gazing into Loren’s blue-grey eyes.

"L-loren? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be teaching?"

Loren’s eyes brightened with amusement. "How long have you been standing here?"

"How long—" He glanced at the clock on the microwave and blinked, unable to accept that nearly two hours had gone by since coming into the kitchen. He looked back at Loren, feeling confused and bereft and totally out of his depth. "Th-there was this elk... Alfa....she was dancing... and...and... there was this elk...."

"Alex, calm down," Loren said, pulling him away from the sink and towards the breakfast nook, forcing him into a seat. "Sit and get yourself under control while I make us some nice chamomile tea. That will help settle you."

"I came in for some coffee," Alex protested weakly.

Loren smiled. "I’m afraid the coffee’s stone cold by now, my friend. Just sit here and try to relax." He went to the counter and opened the lid of a cookie jar in the shape of a bear holding a honey jar and fished out some molasses cookies, putting them on a plate and returning to the table where he set it in front of Alex. "Have a cookie or two. I think you need something sweet." Then he went to the stove and picked up the kettle, filling it with water from the sink before replacing it, turning the burner on. As he fussed about with the tea paraphernalia, he kept up a running monologue.

"It’s been raining too much for us to have the picnic outside, so we’ll have it inside, though I think the rain will end by around four. The fire pit is covered so we can at least fire it up for grilling. This is the last picnic of the year so we’re going all out with filet mignon and lobster. Ryan’s getting some clams as well. Do you like them steamed or raw?"

"Hmm?"

Loren gave him an amused look. "Clams. Do you like them steamed or raw?"

"Ah... steamed."

By then the water was boiling and Loren filled the teapot, bringing it over to the table and sitting down across from Alex, picking up a cookie to eat. Alex concentrated on his own cookie, not looking at anything in particular, trying to sort out what was happening. After a minute, Loren poured some of the tea into mugs, encouraging Alex to drink. After a couple of sips of the soothing drink, he felt himself relaxing. Loren asked him what he’d seen. Slowly, reluctantly, he told him about the elk and Alfa dancing.

"I can’t believe I stood there for two hours staring out the window," he said as he ended his narrative.

"You’re lucky it was only two hours," Loren said with a faint smile.

"How can I become so mesmerized by someone dancing, though?" Alex insisted. "And there was this music, a flute, I think, and the melody was so... so... dark and haunting. I... I don’t even know where it was coming from. I just know that I’ve never heard anything so heartbreakingly beautiful before and Alfa dancing to it...." He drank some more tea. "And why does everyone seem to glow?" he asked suddenly, sounding annoyed and put-upon, as if people glowing were an affront to his sensibilities.

Loren leaned back in his chair and studied him for a long moment before speaking. "Why don’t we take this conversation into the library where we’ll be more comfortable," he said and Alex reluctantly agreed. Loren brought the tea and cookies with them. The fire was burning low and Loren added another log while Alex settled into a chair. The library door opened and Ron stepped in.

"Everything all right?" he asked and Loren nodded.

"We’re just having some tea. Alex is a bit upset. Seems he happened to see Alfa dancing."

"Ah... yes," Ron said with a knowing nod, giving Alex a shrewd look. "Mind if I join you?"

Alex just shrugged while Loren gestured to an empty chair. He didn’t bother to get up himself but grabbed an overstuffed cushion and sat on the stone ledge before the hearth so he was facing the other two men. For a time, no one spoke. Alex was lost in his own thoughts as he sipped his tea, staring into the fire.

"Your sleep was less disturbed last night," Ron said suddenly, and the sound of his voice jerked Alex out of his reverie.

"I guess," he replied. "I don’t remember dreaming or anything."

"How did you feel when you woke up? Were you tired or anxious?"

Alex shook his head. "I actually felt pretty good. A little sore where someone landed a nice punch but otherwise...." He shrugged, giving them a slight smile.

"It took four of us to subdue you," Loren said with a grin. "You were very well taught."

"Sorry. I don’t even remember. Ambrose spoke a single word and then everything went black. Next thing I know I’m staring at the ceiling and I’ve got four goons holding me down."

Ron and Loren chuckled. "I don’t think our friends would appreciate being referred to as ‘goons’," Loren said.

"Whatever," Alex retorted with a grin. Then he sobered somewhat. "I’ve never been that out of control before. I’m just glad no one was seriously injured or worse."

"As are we," Loren said with a nod. "Now, as long as Ron is here, why don’t we discuss your nightmares and what you think you want to do next."

Alex gave them a wary look. "I can’t just walk away. I still need to deal with Ambrose."

"Kill him, you mean?" Ron asked and there was nothing in his tone or expression that told Alex what he was thinking.

"As a last resort," Alex said. "I don’t terminate people on a whim or because some Washington bigwig wakes up one Tuesday morning and thinks it’s a good idea. I have never taken a life needlessly and I’m not about to do so now. That being said, you must accept the possibility that I may have to take him out. Ambrose knows this. Every agent knows this. Doesn’t mean we like it, but it’s not something we can just ignore. Those who do don’t last long in the Game."

"So what options do you see?" Loren asked.

"For the moment, I will do as you suggested and continue as I have. My main concern is Farrell. He’s a loose cannon and I have no control over his actions. If he decides Ambrose is a liability, he’ll have no compunction about taking him out, and me along with him."

"Someone sent photos of us to your Agency," Loren said after a moment. "We’re still trying to learn who it might have been and why they chose your Agency to send them to. Do you have any ideas?"

Alex shook his head. "They were sent anonymously, as far as I know. As to why... all I know is that it was hinted that things were not on the up-and-up at the Academy, but there was nothing specifically said. Frankly, if it hadn’t been for the fact that one of the photos showed Ambrose, the whole thing would’ve been dismissed. It’s only because of Ambrose that I’m even here. If you all are involved in a terrorist plot to take over the world or something, I haven’t uncovered it, and I doubt if I ever will. Yet, it doesn’t explain Ambrose’s presence here or how it is you were able to recruit him. He was in hiding and apparently doing a damn good job of it. He wouldn’t have risked being discovered if he’d not thought it important."

"And the reason for it lies with him," Loren said. "You will have to ask him about it."

"Assuming he even bothers to give me a straight answer," Alex groused. "He betrayed me and our friendship. I’m not sure I can trust anything he might have to say."

"That is certainly something that you will need to discuss with him," Loren said, "but I will tell you this: Ryan will not lie to you. He may not tell you the whole truth, and frankly, which of us does that, but he will not lie."

"Getting back to your nightmares," Ron said before Alex could comment, "have you decided who you are in your dreams?"

Alex sighed, shaking his head. "I would like to think I’m Alex but I can’t be sure. All I’m sure of is that the swimmer is me, Artemus, and I find I don’t like him very much. That smile he gives me as he goes under is too ugly. I have to wonder how ugly I may have become, inside, I mean."

"We all have our ugly sides," Ron said neutrally. "None of us is perfect... well, except Loren, here." He flashed a warm smile at Loren who smirked and Alex chuckled. "And, of course, none of us like to acknowledge that side of us," Ron continued, "but it’s there and if we ignore it, we usually suffer for it... or others do."

"I’ve often had to call upon the darker aspects of my soul in order to play a convincing role," Alex said. "I’ve never really liked doing so and have been very glad when I could stop playing a particular role. I always felt a bit... unclean, I guess. I usually needed a long vacation afterwards and surround myself with normal people doing normal things and trying to reconnect with the nicer parts of my soul."

"And that has probably saved you in ways you do not appreciate," Ron commented with a nod. "Yet, we need to address the burning question of the day: do you wish to be rescued? And, more important, whom do we rescue?"

"‘Alex Grant’ is only a persona," Alex said after a moment. "His history, his personality, all that is made up, though drawn in part from my own life and experiences. Yet, he’s not really me. No matter what roles I may play, I always remain Artemus Gordon Meriwether somewhere deep inside, so if we’re rescuing anyone, it will be him, not Alex or anyone else I may have been. But," and now he hesitated, "now I’m not sure if I’m worth rescuing, not if my nightmares have anything to say about it."

Loren rose and stood before Alex, gazing down at him with compassion. "If anything, child, your nightmares tell us that Artemus Gordon Meriwether is indeed worth saving and I promise you that we will do everything we can to do so, if you let us."

"Thank you," Alex said softly.

Before anyone else could say anything, they heard the sound of someone calling out, though Alex could not make out the words. Loren gave Alex and Ron an amused look. "I think that’s Ryan with the clams. Why don’t you two go help him with them while I go find the steamer and get it set up?"

Alex and Ron nodded and the three left the library together. Before Loren headed toward the kitchen, he gave Alex a clap on the shoulder. "We’ll get through this, I promise. Somewhere there is an answer to all this and we will find it."

Alex just nodded and then he and Ron continued to the front of the house where they found Ryan, Conan and Alfa lugging in the clams. Alex had to keep himself from staring at the woman, remembering how she’d made him feel while she was dancing and concentrate on helping with the clams, getting as soaked as the others as they ran between the house and the car, laughing as they went.

21: The Last Picnic of the Season

Once they brought the clams in, everyone went to change into dry clothes while Loren began the task of washing the clams and preparing them for the pot. Alex decided to grab a quick shower, as the rain had been cold and he was shivering. Twenty minutes later he was back in the kitchen where everyone else had gathered. Ambrose motioned him over to the breakfast nook where he was sitting.

"You can help me with the potatoes for the potato salad," he said, handing Alex a paring knife. "I’ll peel and you can slice. Here’s the bowl to put them in." Alex had no objections and the two sat in comfortable silence for a time while others bustled about with their own preparations. Alex stole a glance at Ambrose as he cut the first potato.

"Tell me how you did it," he said quietly, "and why."

Ambrose put down the potato that he’d been working on and looked up, his expression unreadable. "A tale too dark to tell even on this dreary day."

"Actually, I’m rather curious myself," Loren said as he threw together a three-bean salad. "You’ve never told us how you even got involved in working for the Agency. You’ve only hinted about the fact that you had no choice."

"Nor did I," Ambrose said, scowling. "I was careless and someone found out, someone who was just ruthless enough to use that information against me. I was given an ultimatum: join the Agency, use what I knew and what I was for their benefit, or suffer the consequences of becoming a lab specimen."

Alex wasn’t sure what Ambrose was talking about but he could not fail to notice the shocked looks on everyone else’s faces. Alfa actually looked as if she would faint and there was a grimness to Loren’s expression that truly frightened him.

"I don’t understand...."

Ambrose gave him a sympathetic look and sighed. "Nor do I expect you to, son. Let us just say that for all intents and purposes, I was not free to live my life as I chose. Samuel Bradford held my chains and made sure I never forgot it."

"Sam Bradford?!" Alex exclaimed. "The head of the Agency? Wait... he... he disappeared around the same time as you supposedly died." He gave Ambrose a shrewd look. "What happened, Ambrose? No one could figure out what happened to Bradford. We had agents from every corner of the world scouring for him. It was as if he’d simply been swallowed up and no one knew why or how. As I recall, he was last seen heading for Geneva for a meeting with his counterparts from other intelligence agencies, only he never got there and then news came of your death in Kuwait."

"I was rarely allowed to go into the field," Ambrose replied after a moment, "but there were times when my... um... special talents made it necessary. Sam Bradford had been a friend until he betrayed my trust and I spent fifty years plotting my escape."

"Fifty years?! But how....?"

"If you keep interrupting, I won’t be able to finish," Ambrose said with an amused look and Alex blushed, muttering an apology.

After a moment, Ambrose continued. "Sam had a failsafe: if I tried to run, if I refused to do as he wished, if anything happened to him, he had set it up so that certain information would automatically be released into the wrong hands and I would have been taken into custody. I had no doubt that he had covered every base and made sure I had no choice but to obey him, so I had to bide my time, allow him to feel he had me where he wanted me and become complacent."

"I remember seeing him with you once," Alex couldn’t help saying. "You seemed to be friends."

"We were, Alex. In some strange way, in spite of everything, we were friends, but I never forgot that he betrayed me, forced me into a position where I would have no choice but to do as he bid and all the while I plotted my revenge and my escape."

"What happened to Bradford?" Alex asked.

"I killed him," Ambrose said quietly. "I lured him to Kuwait on false pretenses, killed him and made sure that his body would never be found and at the same time arranged for my own death, substituting the body of another for mine."

"Whose body?" Loren asked.

Ambrose shrugged. "I never knew his name. He was a foreign agent who had the misfortune to cross my path at the wrong time and place. So many people just disappear in the Middle East, one more disappearance hardly mattered, but I had to make sure that my death was confirmed. If I was believed dead, nothing would come of Bradford’s threats over me, especially with Bradford dead as well."

"But now we know you’re alive," Alex stated, "and perhaps so does the person to whom the information was to go."

"Except for one thing," Ambrose replied. "Before I killed him, I... um... convinced Bradford to tell me where he had hidden the files I knew he kept on me. When I returned to the States, I went to where the files were and destroyed them."

"How do you know he told you everything?" Alex asked. "How do you know he didn’t have back up files and back ups of the back ups?"

"There was only one back up and that was destroyed as well," Ambrose said.

"And if he was lying?" Ron asked.

Ambrose shook his head. "He was in no position to lie about anything, Ron. Sodium pentothal and a few other drugs assured me of that." He paused for a moment and sighed. "It was the one mercy that I granted him."

"What do you mean?" Loren asked.

"Once I had all the information from him that I needed, I introduced another drug that sent him into a coma from which he never awoke. Essentially, he died in his sleep." He grimaced slightly. "It took almost an hour for his heart to stop. Then I took him out into the desert and buried him in the sand."

"And simply faking your death wasn’t enough?" Alex asked.

"Bradford knew me and my death, to him, at least, would have been highly suspicious and he would have looked deeper than anyone, including those who took over from him when he disappeared. I was just another casualty in the espionage game, nothing more. I needed Bradford out of the way if I were to disappear completely."

Silence fell among them. Alex noticed the troubled looks that passed between Loren, Ron, Conan and Alfa, which Ambrose patently ignored, picking up the potato and peeling it. Alex stared at his friend and mentor, trying to imagine what it must have been like for him all those years and shook his head. Ambrose looked up and their eyes met and there was a depth of pain and sorrow too deep in the older man’s eyes for Alex to comprehend or to endure and he had to look away. "The potato salad won’t make itself," Ambrose said. "Best get to it."

Alex nodded, picking up another potato to slice, refusing to look at Ambrose or anyone else. A few seconds later, the others returned to their own tasks, but there was no conversation between them for some time.

****

Others of the household began making an appearance as the afternoon progressed. By two o’clock the rain finally stopped and the clouds broke away to let the sun do its work. Misty and Della went out to the garden and wiped down the patio furniture though Alex didn’t think anyone would actually sit out there to eat; it was too wet and cool and Alex had grabbed a sweater before going out to help Loren set the fire.

"Snow will be coming soon," Loren said as he removed the cover from the fire pit and began laying down the kindling that Alex handed him.

"It always amazes me where people are willing to live," Alex said. "Given a choice, I would think most people would prefer sunny climes where snow is more a myth than a reality."

Loren looked up with a grin. "Yet, you live in Washington, D.C. and that gets plenty cold in the winter."

Alex shrugged. "It’s probably closer to the truth to say that D.C. is where I hang my hat when I’m not elsewhere in the world, but given my drutherrs I would rather be lying on a beach somewhere soaking up the sun with a strawberry daiquiri in one hand and... and a spy novel in the other." He gave Loren a cheeky grin.

Loren laughed. "Wouldn’t we all?" He stood up, wiping his hands. "Keep an eye on this, will you? And don’t fall asleep."

"Mai oui, mon capitan," Alex said, giving him a sloppy salute.

"D’accord," Loren retorted with a grin as he made his way back to the house and Alex laughed as he bent over the fire pit to readjust one of the logs.

By four o’clock, the clams were steaming and the salads were made. The filet mignon and lobster were being wrapped in aluminum foil along with some corn-on-the-cob with generous pats of butter. These would be placed in the fire and cooked. The dining room table was set out for a buffet and now guests were arriving. Zach came with Nicole and her children and a man named Tim Saunders, who turned out to be Nicole’s coworker. Alex could tell that he and Nicole were an item and ruthlessly pushed away the sudden feelings of jealousy at the sight of them. It would never have worked anyway, he reminded himself. Agents made lousy husbands and fathers.

Along with the Lords came the Michaelsons — Dave and Janna with their son Kevin and twin daughters, Kim and Kathy — whom Loren introduced to Alex. By the way the kids greeted Loren, he could tell that there was a special relationship between them, similar to that between Zach and Nicole’s kids. Others began showing up, people from the college whom Alex knew and others from the town. So he finally met Shane, Jud, Matt, Cassidy and Lily. Matt was accompanied by Gloria Richards, the lead singer of the Arctic Fringe and his girlfriend, while Shane had brought her mother, who seemed less than pleased to be there, looking uncomfortable among strangers. She had simply stared at Loren when they were introduced, her mouth hanging open in utter surprise. Alex knew how she felt.

As large as the mansion was, it was definitely very crowded. Most of the guests congregated in the spacious dining room or the library where another fire was going. Alex found himself being recruited to help serve drinks so he had a chance to mingle and speak to most everyone. To those for whom he was a stranger, Loren had simply introduced him as a weekend houseguest, but more than one person from the college asked how he was recovering from his near drowning and Alex assured them that he was doing well.

He was in the kitchen putting some glasses on a tray when Nicole came to enquire about him, softly thanking him for what he had done.

"I didn’t do anything except nearly drown," Alex said with a wry grin. "And if I hadn’t panicked, Caleb wouldn’t have fallen in the tarn in the first place."

"Perhaps not," Nicole said, giving his arm a pat, "but I’m grateful for what you tried to do and I’m glad that you survived, as well."

"How’s Caleb doing?"

"Oh Caleb is just fine," she answered. "It’s Adam who’s having nightmares. Ron’s been coming over and counseling him, all the kids, actually, after school. He’s very good with them. Adam isn’t waking up screaming anymore."

"I’m glad," Alex said as he happened to look out the kitchen window to where Ron and his wife Holly were talking to Phil Gordon as they stood by the fire pit. Then Nicole left him to see what her children were up to, and Alex went back to serving drinks.

The picnic continued with little upset, though Sheila Becker was heard to complain to her daughter about the food not being kosher, and Shane asked when had she started worrying whether food was kosher or not. The two were standing in the dining room where several people were filling their plates. Alex was there as well, helping himself to some potato salad.

"Hiram has insisted on eating kosher," Sheila replied.

"Oh, Hiram," Shane sneered. "Well, Hiram’s not here and I won’t tell a soul, so don’t worry about it. Just enjoy yourself. What you see in that slob is beyond me. I’m just glad I’m not living there anymore."

"He’s been very good to us," Sheila said defensively. "When your father died, he was there."

"You could’ve done better," Shane retorted.

"Now, Hepsibah...."

"Don’t call me that!" Shane yelled. "You know how much I hate that name."

"I thought your name was Shane?" Jud said, looking confused. He and everyone else in the dining room had pretended they weren’t listening to the argument between mother and daughter, and Alex could see that those who knew Shane seemed embarrassed for her.

"It is, but Hepsibah’s my temple name," Shane explained, giving them a grimace. "I hate it."

"It was good enough for your great-aunt," Sheila said with a sniff. "She practically raised me after my parents died."

"Well, that’s my great-aunt, not me," retorted Shane. "Now can we stop airing the family’s dirty laundry for all and sundry to see and just enjoy this lovely picnic that Loren and the others have made for us? I’ve been looking forward to this all summer." She strode away, leaving an embarrassed silence behind her. Sheila Becker refused to look at anyone and finally left the room. Alex let go of a breath he’d not realized he was holding and resumed filling his plate, making his way through the house to the library, where he found Loren and Darren holding court.

Zach was there, as were Matt and Gloria, along with Ambrose, Conan, Alfa and Daisy Ellstrom who helped teach classes offered to the townspeople through the college’s Continuing Education department. She held a workshop on making bows and arrows and another on how to survive in the wilds. Both workshops were apparently popular for she’d been complaining about needing to schedule more classes with no one free to help teach them. When he’d read about her in the Agency files he’d thought it odd that a woman who, until she came to Wiseman, had been working as a legal assistant in a law firm in Chicago, and was now suddenly an expert on constructing bows and arrows and how to find food in the wilds.

Loren looked up as Alex entered and smiled, gesturing for him to join them. "How are you holding up?"

Alex shrugged. "Okay. Shane and her mom got into an argument. Shane stalked off very angry."

"And Sheila?"

Alex shrugged. "She left the room after Shane did but I have no idea where she went."

Loren glanced around. "Daisy, would you....?"

"I’ll go find Misty and let her know," she said with a smile, "or Shane may already have gone to her."

Loren nodded. "In either case, find Sheila and make sure she’s all right."

Daisy left and the others resumed their own conversations. Alex found a place to sit and started digging into his food, only half-listening to the conversations around him, a mixture of Sindarin and English being spoken. Most of the conversations seemed to center around the upcoming second term, which would begin a week from Monday. Loren gave Alex a knowing smile.

"You might find the Wilderness Survival and Nature Studies courses more to your liking," he said. "I believe you’ve had plenty of experience in wilderness survival."

"If you mean dealing with the animals that haunt the concrete jungle, you’re right there," Alex shot back with a grin of his own, enjoying the repartee. "The closest I’ve been to the wilderness before coming here has been Central Park in New York City."

Several people laughed and Ambrose winked at him. Loren raised an eyebrow, but did not otherwise comment.

"Well, you’ll enjoy the courses I’m sure," Matt commented. "I’ve lived here all my life and hadn’t a clue. It was quite an eye-opener."

"I think the camping trips help," Zach added. "From speaking to those who’ve been on them already, many of the students come away with a better appreciation of the environment and how important it is to preserve it. Like Alex, a lot of them have never really seen the great outdoors except in the movies."

Alex was tempted to refute that, but of course, he couldn’t. As far as Zach was concerned ‘Alex Grant’ was indeed ignorant of wilderness survival, but Artemus Gordon Meriwether was all too familiar with it.

"Well, I’m looking forward to it," he said. "Though I hope we don’t go anywhere near Mt. Horace when we’re doing survival stuff."

"All the outdoor classes take place in the Gates of the Arctic National Reserve," Ambrose assured him. "That’s where we take them camping as well. You still need to do that, but I think under the circumstances we’ll waive that particular requirement for you, unless you want to go camping."

"I’d rather not," Alex said with a smile, "but I don’t want any special treatment. What happened at the tarn was... unfortunate, but it’s not going to stop me. I’ll just need a bit of time."

"And we will give you that time," Loren assured him. "I wouldn’t worry about it. Taking the classes should be enough. At some point you’ll be going out for the day to put into practice what you’ve been learning in class anyway. The weekend camping trips are designed to reinforce what is being taught in the classrooms."

The conversation drifted to other topics then and Alex sat back and simply relaxed. He kept stealing glances at Alfa, the image of her dancing still bright in his mind. She had seemed so unearthly dancing in the rain but now, sitting beside Conan and speaking with Gloria about the Arctic Fringe’s next gig, she seemed... well, not ordinary, but certainly more real. She glanced up and smiled at him and he blushed, looking away, suddenly realizing how rude he’d been, staring at her. His eyes settled on Loren, Darren and Ambrose speaking quietly in the corner away from the others. Loren caught his eye and gestured for him to join them.

"We’ll let people finish eating and then in an hour or so we’ll be having Darren and others entertaining us with song. You might find the experience... overwhelming."

Alex blinked, not sure what Loren was getting at. "If you mean like this afternoon...."

All three men nodded their heads. "When you were at the Blue Petrel back when Darren deigned to sing, what happened?"

"Um... well... nothing really. I just had these weird images, like I was seeing a story or something, while Darren was singing. You seemed to be in it a lot and Ambrose was there with Della. At least, people looked like you but they were all kind of weird looking."

Several pairs of eyebrows went up. "Weird in what way?" Darren asked.

"Oh, I don’t know. Loren had his hair in braids with gemstones and stuff entwined and everyone was wearing medieval-looking clothes. You even had pointed ears for some reason. You know, just weird. I think all that elf stuff was getting to me, but somehow it felt real, like I was a part of it in some way. I think it was a day or two afterwards before I stopped thinking I could smell the ocean."

There was silence between them for a moment or two and while Loren, Darren and Ambrose did not look at one another, Alex had the oddest feeling that they were somehow communicating with one another. Finally Loren spoke. "Given what’s happened to you lately, I just wanted to warn you about the singing. Some people react to it more strongly than others. If at any time you feel yourself becoming overwhelmed, don’t hesitate to leave. No one will be offended. I’m going to ask Ron to sit with you. If you begin to feel uneasy or upset just let him know and he’ll go out with you, make sure you’re okay."

"I don’t need a baby-sitter," Alex groused. "I’m a trained..." he stopped himself, looking about to see if others were perhaps aware of their conversation, but no one was paying any attention to them. "I’m sure I can handle it," he amended, giving them a cold look.

Before any of the men could respond, Daisy came into the room and came directly to them. "Shane and Sheila had another go at one another," she told them quietly. "Sheila wanted to return to the hotel and Shane refused to take her. Misty and I finally got Sheila a cab and sent her on her way. We paid the driver."

"Where’s Shane?" Loren asked, frowning.

"Still with Misty, and Lily and Cassie are with her as well. Misty’s taken her to the solarium. I think it’ll be awhile before they can calm her down." Alex knew that the solarium was on the second floor above the kitchen overlooking the back garden. It had originally been an upper porch where the first owner and his guests could sit out and enjoy the view during the summer months, but was later enclosed in glass so it could be used all year round.

Loren nodded. "I’ll check in on them in a little while. Thank you, Daisy." It was clearly a dismissal and Alex was surprised that the woman took no offense, but merely smiled and wandered over to where Alfa and Gloria were still talking and joined in their conversation.

Loren turned to Alex. "I meant what I said. Don’t try to be a hero here. I’m still not satisfied that we’ve dealt with your nightmares sufficiently. Ron will sit with you if you insist on staying for the music."

It was not a suggestion but clearly an order and Alex knew there would be no arguing with the man. "Fine. Whatever." He gave them a sneer and walked away, intent on getting away from them for a time. He was half inclined to just return to his room and stay there and damn everyone else, but then he ran into Zach and Jud and before he realized it, he was helping them and some others with clean up, clearing the dining room table of empty platters and putting away pots and pans. By the time they were finished, everyone was gathering in the library for the music. Alex came along, determined to show these people he wasn’t the wimp they thought he was and grimaced when Ron unobtrusively found a seat next to him. Ron merely gave him a knowing smile.

Darren, Conan, Holly and Sarah were apparently the ones who were giving the concert, sitting together near the fireplace where a space had been cleared for them. Darren held a harp in his lap while Conan was fiddling with a flute. Holly was tuning a lute and Sarah was pulling a recorder from its case. All the guests crowded around, most of them sitting on the floor where pillows had been strewn while others, mostly the older folks, sat in chairs, some of which had been brought in from other rooms. There was a hush of expectation not dissimilar to what Alex had encountered at the Blue Petrel. Even the children in the group were sitting still, which surprised him. The last to enter the room were Shane and Misty. Loren went to them and spoke quietly to Shane, who nodded, giving him a tremulous smile. Loren hugged her and then the three of them found seats in the back.

"Everyone set?" Darren asked with a smile and there was a chorus of ‘yeses’. Silence fell over them for a long moment before the musicians struck the first chord. Alex sat mesmerized as he listened to them playing in a minor key, the chords haunting and dark in their beauty. The musicians played several bars of the music before Darren and Holly raised their voices in song.

Alex gasped as if in shock and then his mind went blank and he knew nothing more.

22: Revelation

Alex woke to darkness. He blinked a couple of times, trying to figure out what had happened. He was lying in a bed and realized as his eyes adjusted to the dark that he’d somehow returned to his room but had no memory of climbing the stairs. The last thing he could clearly remember was sitting in the library with the others and listening to the music.

He struggled to sit up, only realizing that he — or perhaps another — had removed his jeans and shoes but had left everything else on. Movement alerted him and a figure came out of the shadows. It was Ambrose.

"Wh-what happened?" Alex rasped, his mouth dry as dust.

Ambrose leaned over and switched on the table lamp, causing Alex to wince at the light. As he blinked rapidly to allow his eyes to adjust, Ambrose poured some water from a carafe into a glass and handed it to him. Alex accepted it gratefully and drank the entire glass in three gulps. All the while Ambrose never spoke but merely watched him. Placing the empty glass on the night table he asked again, "What happened? How long have I been out?"

"What do you remember?"

"Sitting next to Ron and Zach on the library floor to listen to the music and then...nothing." He stared at Ambrose, his blood freezing as he remembered the last time he’d blanked out. "Did... did I hurt anyone?" he asked meekly.

Ambrose did not answer immediately, merely staring at him in a solemn manner.

"Ambrose, for the love of God, did I hurt anyone?" Alex demanded.

"Get dressed and come downstairs to the library," Ambrose said, turning towards the door.

"Ambrose! What in....?"

"The library," Ambrose said, giving him a cold look. "Don’t dawdle."

Alex flung the bedclothes off him as he struggled out of bed. "Damn you! Why don’t you....?" But Ambrose was already out the door. Alex muttered several choice curses in more than one language as he pulled his jeans on, thrusting his feet into slippers rather than bothering with his shoes, stopping at the bathroom to throw some water on his face and comb his hair before heading downstairs. When he reached the library he found the door slightly ajar and could hear voices softly speaking but did not catch what was being said. He hesitated, not sure if he really wanted to go in.

"Well, Alex, are you going to stand out there all night?" he heard Loren say and there was a note of amusement in his voice that somehow relieved some of Alex’s anxiety. He swallowed and opened the door all the way, half expecting to find the library a mess with bodies strewn about, but the room was pristine and the occupants were standing or sitting by the fireplace. He saw that all the residents of the house were there, except, of course, for Gil who was camping, but no one else. He stopped just inside the doorway, not sure what kind of welcome he was about to receive. He couldn’t read the expressions on any of their faces.

"Did I hurt anyone?" he whispered, pleadingly.

There was a sigh that came from nowhere and everywhere and Loren moved toward him, his expression more sympathetic. He reached out and took Alex into his embrace and hugged him. "No, child, no one was harmed, I promise." Releasing him, he drew him further into the room. "Come sit. We need to talk."

Alex allowed himself to be led to the fireplace and sat in the chair Loren indicated. He refused to look at anyone, and, for the first time in a very long time, felt confused and at a loss. Ron knelt before him, giving him a ghost of a smile.

"You’re a very dangerous young man," he said and Alex blushed for some reason, still refusing to look up. "Artemus, look at me."

He looked up. "My friends call me Gordon," he whispered. "I hate Artemus."

There seemed to be a lightening of the mood around him and someone chuckled. Ron gave him a warmer smile. "Perhaps I’ll just continue calling you Alex, then, if you don’t mind." Alex shook his head. "Good. Now, I meant what I said: you’re very dangerous, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We’re all of us dangerous in our own ways. You are in a room full of dangerous people, though you might not think so, except for Ryan or Ambrose, as you insist on calling him."

Alex frowned. "I’m not sure I understand."

"Do you remember anything after Darren and the others started playing?" Ron asked.

Alex shook his head. "Darren and Holly started singing and that’s the last thing I remember."

"Our music affects your people in different ways," Darren said then. "Some people hear our music and they find it very pleasant and they go away smiling." He gave them a grimace of disgust. "Frankly, I think those people are tone-deaf." Some of the others smiled at that. "Anyway, the vast majority of your people find themselves receiving images."

"Like when I heard you singing at the Blue Petrel," Alex interrupted.

Darren nodded. "And for most people it’s like watching a movie in 3-D. There are a very few rare individuals, though, who actually feel as if they are part of whatever action they see in the vision. They become part of the story itself." He paused and gave Alex a searching look. "It seems you’re that rare individual."

"But what happened?" Alex demanded. "I don’t remember anything."

"Do you know what Darren and Holly were singing?" Ron asked.

Alex shook his head. "I don’t remember enough except it was in Sindarin."

Ron nodded. "They were singing what is known as the ‘Lay of Leithian’. It is an ancient tale."

Alex gave him a blank look.

Della spoke up then. "You might recall the story of Beren and Lúthien in our history class."

"Oh, the dude with one hand," Alex replied with relief. It was the only part of the conversation that so far made any sense to him.

Several people smiled and Dan turned to Roy with a wicked grin. "I don’t think Great-great-grandfather was ever a ‘dude’, do you?"

Roy merely snickered. Alex looked on in confusion. Ron glared at the Twins and then returned to Alex, laying his hand on Alex’s arm to get his attention.

"Yes, that’s who I meant. The ‘Lay of Leithian’ is their story and that’s what Darren and Holly were singing." He paused, looking up at Loren and Alex noticed how everyone seemed to defer to him, as if he were their leader. Loren gave a single nod and Ron spoke again. "I didn’t realize what was happening at first until I heard you muttering in Sindarin, rather fluent Sindarin at that, and in a dialect I don’t think has been heard in ages, literally."

"Huh?"

"You were muttering the words of the lay, or rather, you seemed to be having a conversation with Finrod. It was as if you were Beren seeking an audience with the King of Nargothrond and that was about where Darren and Holly were in the song."

"How did I get to my room?" Alex asked. He wasn’t sure what Ron was talking about but he was curious as to how he’d gone from sitting on the library floor to lying in his bed with no memory of doing anything in between.

"We didn’t dare touch you," Loren said. "There was no way of knowing what would happen if you suddenly woke. Ron signaled for me and told me what he thought was happening to you. I told Darren not to stop singing. He and Holly continued the lay to the point where Beren dies and then you gave a gasp and simply collapsed into a faint. We got you upstairs and sent everyone else home. It was getting late anyway and the party would’ve broken up within the hour as it was, so no one really minded and everyone was sympathetic. They’re used to our music but they understand how overwhelming it can be for some people at first."

"I would like to know how he could be speaking an ancient dialect of Sindarin when he can barely speak the language as it is," Ambrose said before Alex could muster any sort of comment.

"Could he have been channeling Great-great-grandfather?" Roy asked in all seriousness.

"More like a racial memory," Ron replied, giving Alex a comforting smile. He glanced at Loren. "Do you know what happened to the Dúnedain?"

Loren shook his head. "When the ice came, the Twins and I were busy gathering as many of our people as we could find and leading them south, but we did not go through Gondor. After Eldarion died, relations between us and the Gondorians soured. We made our way into Rohan and took the Paths of the Dead until we reached Dol Amroth where we were given a warm welcome by its prince who remembered his heritage." He paused and gave Misty a brief smile before continuing. "We helped them build enough ships to take the populace into the deep south. We settled in what is today Saudi Arabia, though then it was not a desert."

"Holly and I had long left the lands of the West, traveling into the far east after Sauron’s defeat, for we were curious to find traces of our Avari kin and perhaps even Cuiviénen, which was only a legend for us. When the ice came we were living on a completely different continent where the stars are strange, though no less beautiful."

"At any rate," Loren continued, "we lost complete track of the Dúnedain. There was a small contingent of them who accompanied us from Arnor but they soon mingled with the people of Dol Amroth and they eventually mingled with the natives of that region. Their descendants still thrive, though they have forgotten their history completely."

"Do you think Alex could be a descendant of the Dúnedain, perhaps even descended from Arwen’s line?" Roy asked with a frown.

"It would explain what happened tonight," Ron said.

"Uh, do you guys think you could perhaps explain it a little more clearly to me?" Alex asked. "Or should I just leave the room while you continue your discussion?"

"I’m sorry, Alex," Loren said solemnly. "We’re not ignoring you. We’re just trying to understand what is happening to you and why."

"You keep saying things like ‘our music’ and ‘your people’ as if we’re different somehow," Alex countered, "and Roy and Dan keep talking about their great-great-grandfather, though why they would speak of him as if he were this Beren dude who’s just a character in a made up history, I don’t know."

Silence settled over the room for a time. Ron stood up from where he’d been kneeling before Alex and looked at Loren. "It’s your call," he said.

Loren nodded, his expression still solemn as he took Ron’s place to kneel in front of Alex. "There is a reason why," he said quietly, "and there’s no easy way to explain except to say that you are correct. You and we are not of the same race. You keep insisting that Sindarin is an invented language and that the history of the Elves which you’ve been learning is entirely fictitious, but it’s not, we’re not." With that, he reached up and pulled back his hair to reveal his leaf-shaped ears and even as he did so, everyone else did the same.

Alex stared at him for a shocked moment, then glanced around at the others, his gaze landing on Ambrose. "Is this a joke?" he finally asked. "Because if it is, it’s in very poor taste."

"No, Alex, this is no joke," Loren assured him. "We are the Eldar, what you call Elves. We’re the Firstborn, even as you are of the Secondborn. Everything you’ve been learning here is true. There are indeed such things as Elves and we’re living proof of that."

"No," Alex whispered, shaking his head in denial. "No. That’s not possible. You’re making it up. You have to be. You can’t be..." He stared at Ambrose and the man he thought he knew was suddenly a stranger to his eyes, alien and unearthly, and he felt panic rising in him, a panic born, not so much from fear, as from something deeper, more primitive. This was completely outside his worldview and in a moment of extreme clarity he realized he had no idea how to react. The part of him that was Artemus Gordon Meriwether was coldly dictating a mental report on what he’d just learned and formulating several contingency plans for taking these people down while at the same time the Alex Grant part of him was quietly freaking out.

And it was Artemus Gordon Meriwether who won out.

He rose from his seat, forcing Loren to move back. His eyes narrowed as he analyzed the situation, ignoring the tense looks the others gave him as he centered his gaze on Ambrose. "That’s what Bradford found out, isn’t it? That was the secret and that’s why you killed him."

Ambrose just nodded.

"And is that what you plan to do with me?" Alex demanded coldly. "Bradford was an old man. I doubt he gave you much of a fight. I may be a different proposition. And how will you explain my disappearance? Farrell’s a fool, but he’s not that much of a fool. He’ll have the Feds on you so fast you won’t know what hit you."

"We have no intention of killing you, Alex," Loren said softly. "We’re hoping to gain your trust and your cooperation."

"Become a part of your little conspiracy, you mean," Alex retorted as he faced Loren. "I don’t think so."

"There is no conspiracy," Loren assured him, "not in the way you mean. We have no intention of taking over the government or ruling the world or anything like that. As far as we know, we in this room are the last of our kind."

"What do you mean?" And it was more ‘Alex’ asking the question than ‘Artemus’. His entire stance had become less defensive and the others seemed to sense it.

"Why don’t you sit down and we’ll tell you," Loren suggested kindly. "I promise, no harm will come to you. You’re free to leave here at any time."

"You’ll let me go, just like that, knowing what I know?" Alex asked, giving them a look of disbelief.

"We’re not killers, Alex," Loren said, "or at least, most of us are not." He stole a glance at Ambrose who met his gaze with cold equanimity. "At any rate, we’re putting ourselves in your hands and betting on your sense of honor and fairness to at least hear us out before making any decisions."

"There is nothing honorable about being a spy," Alex said.

"Intelligence officer," Loren retorted with a smile and Alex couldn’t help smiling back, nodding in acknowledgment of Loren having scored a point against him. He leaned back in his chair and waited. "Perhaps we can start by introducing ourselves," Loren continued, then, to Alex’s surprise, gave him a short bow. "My name is Glorfindel of...."

"Of the House of the Golden Flower," Alex supplied, frowning.

"Ah, you remember," Loren said, smiling in approval. Then, before Alex could respond he turned to Darren. "And this is Daeron, once of Doriath, and next to him is Vorondur and his wife Ercassë and...."

He went around the room, naming each person, who gave Alex a bow or nod of their head, ending with Ambrose, and Alex wondered if that was deliberate on his part. "I’ll let you introduce yourself," Loren — or rather, Glorfindel — said and Ambrose stepped forward to stand in front of Alex, forcing him to look up. "My name is Amroth," he said quietly, "and once I was King of Laurinand, which you probably know as Lothlórien."

Alex blinked. King? Images came to his mind of Ambrose — no, Amroth — teaching him the finer arts of espionage, sitting in a bar in Alexandria as the two of them downed peppermint schnapps and listened to a bluegrass band playing, holding him as he cried after completing his first real mission, and more recently of the two of them sitting out in the garden grilling salmon and making potato salad.

Amroth gave him a sympathetic smile, as if he knew what was going through his mind. "So, what do I call you?" he finally asked.

Amroth shrugged. "Whatever makes you comfortable. We’ve had so many names, taken on so many different identities as we’ve struggled to blend into your societies, that we don’t mind what people call us."

"Except late for dinner," Roy, or rather Elrohir, quipped, and even Alex was able to scare up a ghost of a smile at that.

"And Gil?"

Loren nodded. "His real name is Gilvegil."

"Star-sword," Alex whispered, translating the name.

"Very good," Loren said, smiling in approval.

Alex glanced around at the people standing there, seeing them in a far different light, trying to assimilate what he thought he knew about them with this new reality that had been thrust upon him and had the feeling it was going to take some time to get used to. He mentally catalogued their names as Glorfindel had given them. Some of the names sounded very familiar.

Alex glanced at the Twins. "You weren’t kidding when you spoke of Beren as being your great-great-grandfather, were you?"

"No," Elladan answered.

Then he looked at Daeron. "Are you the same Daeron who betrayed Lúthien twice?"

"Yes," Daeron whispered, going pale.

He glanced at the Twins again. "And you let him live?" he asked in all seriousness.

Daeron paled even more and Amroth frowned at him in disapproval. The others looked on, their expressions harder to read. It was Elrohir who answered.

"And what would that have accomplished, child?" he asked coldly. "It was ancient history even to us, for Elladan and I were born two ages later, and when we finally met Daeron...." He glanced at the loremaster and smiled briefly before turning his attention back to Alex, "we forgave him a long time ago and he’s paid for what he did in ways you can never comprehend. I would not be so quick to judge any of us, child. You have no idea what any of us has had to endure throughout the long ages."

"I wish you’d stop calling me ‘child’," Alex groused and there was genuine laughter among the others.

"You will always be a child to us, Alex," Loren said, "and that goes for all Mortals. The oldest of you are as babes in arms to us who have seen more years than can be counted. Even Serindë, the youngest of us, was born in the early years of western civilization."

Alex shook his head, trying to reconcile the image of the young woman standing there with the fact that she was thousands of years old yet not looking a day over twenty-five. Instead, he gave Glorfindel a shrewd look. "So what happens now?"

"That is up to you," Glorfindel replied. "My advice, though, is for you to go to bed. I can see you’re exhausted and it’s nearly two in the morning. Get some rest and we’ll discuss this later today."

"I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep after this," Alex said, even as he stifled a yawn.

"Oh, we can help you there," Glorfindel said with a knowing smile and to Alex’s utter amazement, he began singing what sounded like a lullaby. Before he could muster a response, he started yawning in earnest and struggled to keep his eyes open, but it was a losing proposition and he was soon deep asleep. He never felt Amroth gently lift him in his arms and carry him upstairs to his room.

23: Reassessing the Situation

Sunday, Alex woke to an entirely different world from the one he knew before.

Elves!

He lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, mulling over all that he’d learned the previous night. He wanted to think it was a dream, but in his gut he knew differently. All the pieces were falling into place: their ethereal beauty, the glowing, the seemingly effortless motions, the sense of ancientness whenever he looked into their eyes. It all made sense now. And Ambrose, or rather, Amroth....

He spent a little time analyzing the past, remembering his first encounter with the man he knew as Ambrose Elwood who hid a dark secret. He remembered the exacting, often harsh lessons and the myriad small kindnesses, the camaraderie and even the love that was shared between them. Ambrose had been the father Alex had never known. What he was now, he wasn’t quite sure.

Checking the time, he realized that it was quite late, nearly ten o’clock. Getting up, he went and took his shower, lingering longer than usual, allowing the hot water to wash away his doubts and fears and concerns. Knowing the truth changed everything and nothing and he needed to deal with that, for all their sakes, but especially Amroth’s.

Coming downstairs, he wandered into the kitchen to find most of the residents already there and stopped at the doorway, feeling suddenly shy and... unworthy. Glorfindel, standing by the stove with a spatula in his hand as he flipped some pancakes, looked over and gave him a warm smile.

"Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"What did you do to me?" Alex couldn’t help countering. "Was that... um... elf magic or something you pulled on me last night?"

Glorfindel’s smile slipped and Alex could feel the others becoming tense. "I did nothing, other than to help you relax so you could sleep," he said stiffly.

Alex had the grace to blush, realizing he’d been rude. "Sorry. This is all too new for me and I’m not sure which way I’m supposed to go or how to act anymore." And then, hoping to diffuse the tension a little more, he gave them a wicked grin. "With singing like that, I’m surprised you don’t have every mother in Wiseman demanding your services."

Glorfindel laughed and the others snickered. "Not for lack of trying, I assure you," the Elf-lord said as he transferred a couple of pancakes into a warming tray before pouring more batter on the griddle. "Now, come sit and have breakfast. Sundays are about the only day we bother to go all out. Afterwards, you’re free to return to the college. Derek and the others will be back around four."

"There are some things that haven’t been resolved yet," Alex said, taking a seat in the breakfast nook. It wasn’t large enough for everyone to sit but some were gathered around the kitchen island or simply standing beside a counter, balancing a plate in their hands as they ate. "I don’t think I should leave until they are."

"And what things are they?" Amroth asked.

"For one thing, we never figured out why I freaked out last night when Dar... I mean Daeron and... er... sorry, I’ve forgotten your name," he said apologetically to Holly.

"It’s Ercassë, which is the Quenya form," the elleth answered readily enough. "It’s alright to call me Holly. That’s just a translation."

"Er... thanks. Anyway, I’d like to know why I was... um... channeling this Beren dude, if that’s what was happening."

"It is odd that he remembers what he experienced while listening to Daeron singing at the Blue Petrel," Vorondur said, stroking his chin, "yet has no memory of last night. I wasn’t there, so what exactly did you sing, do you remember?" This last was directed at Daeron, who shrugged.

"I started out with the hymn to Elbereth that Glorfindel likes so much and then sang the Ainulindalë and then went on to sing about the creation of the Silmarils and the revolt of the Noldor, but I didn’t sing about Beren or Lúthien. In fact, the last song was about Amroth and Nimrodel in honor of their second wedding anniversary, which was that night as you may recall."

Alex gave Amroth a disbelieving look. "It was your second wedding anniversary and you celebrated it by bringing your wife to a bar? Are you insane?"

The laughter that followed was long and loud. Amroth wrapped an arm around Nimrodel’s shoulders, giving her a loving kiss on her cheek before answering Alex. "It was her idea," he said with a wink and Nimrodel smirked.

"Well, getting back to our discussion," Vorondur said before Alex could muster a retort, "you’re sure you did not sing anything pertaining to Beren?"

Daeron nodded and those who’d been there did as well.

"So, Alex was caught up in the songs but not to the point of losing his own identity as he seemed to do last night," Vorondur summarized, looking thoughtfully at Alex, who tried not to squirm under his regard.

"And don’t forget his nightmares," Glorfindel said. "We still haven’t addressed them properly."

Vorondur nodded. "Those are of a more immediate concern. With your permission, Alex, I would like to set up some counseling sessions so you and I can explore what’s happening to you."

Alex sighed. "I don’t need a shrink, I just need answers, and quite frankly, we’ve got much bigger problems than my nightmares." He gave Amroth a significant look. "You and I need to figure out what we’re going to do next."

"Do you have any ideas?" Amroth asked.

"No. I was hoping you would. I’m still trying to get my mind around the fact that I’m sitting here in the middle of Alaska eating pancakes with a bunch of dudes who are older than Moses."

The Elves smiled at that. Before Amroth could respond, Glorfindel spoke. "I agree that we need to address the reason that brought you here in the first place, Alex, but I think the more important thing is to help you. Ron is correct. Your nightmares should be our primary concern. When you leave here, there’s no guarantee that they won’t resurface and it’s impossible to ward you properly at the Academy."

Alex frowned. "Let’s wait on that then, see how I do tonight when I’m back at the Academy. I’ll warn Derek that I’m still having nightmares about the tarn so if I wake screaming he’ll understand what’s happening. And if I continue having them, then I’ll agree to seeing you." He directed the last statement at Vorondur, who nodded.

"So that just leaves us with the mystery of you apparently channeling our ancestor," Elrohir said.

"Well, unless someone starts singing about him, I doubt I’ll be adversely affected," Alex said. "And I’m not into reincarnation, so I doubt that’s what it is."

"You don’t look like him," Daeron said, "at least not in any obvious way. Your hair is too light, for one thing."

"It’s a dye job, actually," Alex said with a smirk. "My normal hair color is a darker brown."

"But you still don’t look like him," Daeron countered. "Of course, that doesn’t necessarily prove anything, genetics being what it is. Still, it is strange that you would be affected the way you were. I’d like to explore that with you, if you’re willing."

"I guess, but you all seem to be missing the point," Alex said, pointing at Amroth. "I have orders to terminate him if I can’t bring him back into the fold, as it were. That problem still exists and if it were just me, there are things I could do to convince the Powers That Be that the man they know as Ambrose Elwood is not a threat to their security, but we have Farrell to deal with and as much a pain-in-the-neck as he is, he’s very dangerous. He may have seemed innocuous as an accreditation examiner, but don’t let that fool you. He’s a trained agent."

"I will not go into hiding again," Amroth insisted. "This is my home now and I have no intention of leaving it. For the first time in more years than you can conceive, I’m with my own people again and I won’t lose that."

"I know but we still need to deal with Farrell and ultimately with Maddy Washburn who apparently has no faith in me if she brought Farrell into the picture."

"Well, we’re not going to solve this problem immediately," Glorfindel pointed out, "so let’s just enjoy our pancakes and leave the rest for later."

To that the others agreed. As he was sipping his coffee, Alex turned to Barry. "My intelligence tells me that you, Conan, Gil, Alfa and Daisy arrived in Wiseman at the same time, but before that you weren’t even living near each other. Gil was in Tennessee and Daisy was in Chicago and you were somewhere in the Southwest on some archeological dig."

"That’s my area of interest," Barahir said, "recovering the past."

"I know," Alex said with a nod. "So were you really there when Carter found King Tut’s tomb?"

The ellon raised an eyebrow. "How...?"

"They found an old photo of you with Carter at the dig," Alex answered with a grin, then, seeing the genuine confusion in Barry’s eyes, went on to explain. "It’s a computer program known as a global identification search. You feed the computer a photo and then it searches every conceivable source to match the photo with others. Of course, those running the program didn’t realize that Bartholomew Woods and Barry Underwood were one and the same, only that there were similarities between you two. I suspect anyone else would just assume Bartholomew Woods was an ancestor of yours."

For a long moment, no one spoke and most of the Elves had thoughtful looks on their faces. Finally, Barahir stirred. "It is true that in recent years the five of us haven’t lived near one another as we pursued our own interests, but that was not always the case. After the War of Wrath we all settled in Lindon, but Alfa and I eventually followed Lord Oropher east where we settled in Eryn Lasgalen. Conan, Eirien and Gil remained in Lindon but eventually migrated to Eregion and then later to Lothlórien, following in the train of the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. After the Ring War, Alfa and I joined Prince Legolas in founding the Elven colony in Ithilien. When Lothlórien was abandoned, the other three joined us there, for they had no desire to live in Imladris."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dark with memory. "At first relations between us and the Men of Gondor were warm and friendly, but after Prince Legolas sailed to the West, things began to cool between our two peoples. When the ice began to encroach, those of us who had decided not to sail, headed south, but we traveled through Khand and then beyond to what I suppose would be southern Iraq or even Iran today. The geography has changed so much in the millennia, it’s difficult to tell anymore.

"Anyway, we remained in that area for some time along with many others, though we were not that numerous and hid in the mountains where Mortals were not likely to find us. When the ice retreated, those who were still with us began to disperse, but we five, for some reason, decided to stick together. Eventually, after many, many millennia we made our way to this continent. I had become an archeologist even before the term was ever coined, so when we came to America, it was natural for me to join the archeologists who were rediscovering the ancient native cultures here. The others found other interests and we sort of went our separate ways, but we always got together at least once a year to celebrate our friendship and share our adventures with each other."

"So how did any of you know to come here in the first place?" Alex asked. "That’s something I’ve not been able to figure out."

"You can blame Daeron," Vorondur said with a grin. "Have you ever seen the Elf Academy website?"

Alex shook his head.

"Hang on. I’ll go get my laptop," Elrohir said and he left the kitchen. The breakfast table was cleared of dishes and Alex poured himself a second cup of coffee while they were waiting. Within a couple of minutes Elrohir returned with his laptop, setting it on the table and switching it on. After a minute he connected with the internet and called up a particular website, then shifted the laptop so Alex could see.

"That’s... Sindarin," he said after staring at the screen for a long moment. "All those squiggles around the border, those are tengwar, aren’t they?"

"Can you read any of it?" Glorfindel asked.

Alex shook his head. Glorfindel leaned over his shoulder and pointed to the upper left of the screen. "Start here and work your way across and down." Alex squinted at the screen and silently mouthed the letters, trying to remember what he’d learned in class. Writing tengwar was not something they were actually doing yet, merely learning their shapes and values.

"Uh... this word is tolo. That means ‘come’ but I’m not sure about the rest."

"It is indeed a message to any who can read it, informing them that fellow Elves have taken residence here in Wiseman and inviting them to join us," Daeron explained.

"And somehow you all saw this website and came," Alex said. "Do you really think you’re the last of your kind here?"

"We don’t know," Glorfindel said. "We’ve been assured that others are out there and that somehow they will find us, we just don’t know when."

"Assured by whom?"

"Ah.... well, that’s rather hard to explain," Glorfindel replied. "Why don’t we finish clearing up the breakfast things and save that for another day’s discussion? I think you and Amroth and I need to sit down and discuss what happens next. You’ll be gong back to the Academy in a little while and I want certain things resolved before that."

"I would join you, if I may," Vorondur said somewhat formally.

"And I would welcome your insight," Glorfindel responded with equal formality. "The rest of you, continue with your own plans for the day. If we come to any hard conclusions, we’ll let you know at dinner."

There were nods all around. Alex helped load the dishwasher and then he, Glorfindel, Amroth and Vorondur went to the library and sat before the fire. For a while, no one spoke, each lost in his own thoughts. Alex kept stealing glances at the three Elves, seeing them all in a wholly different light.

"Who else knows about you being Elves?" Alex finally asked.

"Everyone at the mansion last night, except for Mrs. Becker, knows who we are, as well as most of the people of Wiseman and the college administration, but the majority of the students do not, at least, not yet. We reveal ourselves to a few whom we feel we can trust with our secret."

Alex nodded. "I notice everyone defers to you," he said, "even Ambrose... er... I mean, Amroth, but you’re not a king, are you?"

Glorfindel grinned. "Far from it," he replied, "but of all of us, I’m the only one who remembers the Two Trees, and unlike any of the others, I’m the only one to have died and lived to tell about it."

"Excuse me?"

"You surely have covered the Fall of Gondolin in your history class, haven’t you?" Glorfindel countered.

Alex nodded dumbly, and then gasped at the implications of the Elf’s statement. "Wait! You’re that Glorfindel? But...."

"Elves are immortal, or perhaps not so much immortal as very long-lived. Only the Valar and the Maiar are true immortals, for they cannot die as we know death, though they can become so diminished as to make no difference. We Elves suffer neither old age nor disease and so in the normal course of things, we continue living, but we can be killed or die of grief. However, unlike Mortals, our lives are bound to the life of Arda, to this Earth. As long as the world exists, we will, so when we die, we do not leave its circles as you Mortals eventually do, but must remain. For a time, we dwell in Mandos where we are purged of our sins, if you like, and then, at some point, we are re-embodied and sent to rejoin the Living, taking up our lives once again. Such people are known as the Reborn, and so I am."

"Must be nice," was all Alex could think to say.

Glorfindel gave him a brilliant smile. "At any rate, my unique history gives me precedence over even Amroth, though, technically speaking, I have no right to dictate to him, or any of the others for that matter. Daeron, for instance, is even older than I am, but he prefers to follow where I lead."

"So, getting back to the purpose of this meeting," Amroth said, "how do you think we should proceed?"

"Farrell is the sticking point," Alex said. "If he weren’t in the picture, I could do things to convince the Agency that you’re not a threat and to leave you alone, but with Farrell here, I’m not sure what we can do short of taking him out. Unfortunately, as much as I would love to do that, it’s not really an option and he’s not the only agent around. I have a list of emails of other agents who’ve been put in place. I don’t know who they are and I’ve been given strict orders not to contact them unless absolutely necessary, as in the ‘it’s-the-end-of-the-world’ necessary."

"And, as I said before, we still don’t know who sent you the photos in the first place," Glorfindel said.

Alex nodded. "And as I said, under other circumstances, they would’ve been ignored, but whether it was planned or it was just happenstance, the inclusion of Amroth’s photo made that impossible."

"We think that you were meant to come here," Amroth said quietly. "If you had not had that photo of me you would have no reason to come here."

"I know, and that’s been troubling me," Alex admitted. "Is there another purpose for all of you being here, other than to teach us how to be Christmas elves?"

"There is," Glorfindel said, "but, again, it’s too complicated to go into right now. Can you trust me enough when I say that our reasons are benign and that we are no threat to the Mortals or their societies?"

"I think I will reserve judgment on that for now," Alex said carefully.

"Fair enough," Glorfindel replied. "I hope in time you will come to trust us and ally yourself with us. We need you, Alex. We need your skills and your connections. You are not here by chance."

"In the meantime, what can we do?" Vorondur asked, speaking for the first time.

"First of all, we need to identify all the players," Alex said. "I need to figure a way to learn the identities of the other agents."

"How will you do this without alerting anyone?" Glorfindel asked.

"Well, as I said before, I have my methods," Alex retorted with a grin.

"Then I will leave it to you to ferret out the information. We have some leads of our own that we are pursuing. Once we have something solid to go on, we can talk about it."

"If I may suggest," Vorondur said, "sometime this week Alex, Amroth and I should sit down and construct a psychological profile on Farrell. We won’t be able to get any specifics, since none of us know him personally, but if he’s been trained in the same school as you two have been, then there are commonalities upon which we can draw to get an idea of how he may react. It would help to know just what we’re dealing with where Farrell is concerned."

"Sounds good," Alex said as Amroth nodded in agreement. "In the meantime, I think I’d better go pack and head back to the Academy," Alex said.

"I’ll give you a lift," Glorfindel said. "I have to go there anyway and finish up some paperwork."

Alex nodded and the meeting broke up. Fifteen minutes later, he and Glorfindel were on their way.

"Here are our cell phone numbers," Glorfindel said to Alex when they reached the Academy, fishing out a slip of paper with names and phone numbers written on it.

"Thanks. I think you have mine on file." Glorfindel nodded. "Well... um... thanks for the... uh... interesting weekend."

Glorfindel gave him a smile. "You’re most welcome."

They parted at the main entrance and Alex went to his room. He unpacked and then sat before his laptop, checking his email, smiling to see one from his mom, which he spent a few minutes answering, assuring her that he was well and enjoying visiting with his old friend. Afterwards, he sat, thinking of ways of learning the identities of the other agents whom the Agency had sent and was still mulling over the problem, not finding any real solution, when the door opened and Derek stepped in. Alex gave him a wide grin. "How was the camping?" he asked.

"Wet," came the reply. "How was your weekend?"

"Interesting," Alex responded.

"Well, let me unload my stuff and go take a nice hot shower and then maybe over dinner we can share each other’s adventures."

"Sounds good," Alex said as he shut down his laptop, thinking how he wouldn’t be able to tell his friend the truth of what he’d learned over the weekend.

24: Out of Memory and Time

Alex walked into the Sindarin class the next morning with Derek and smiled at Gil who was writing something on the board.

"Aur vaer, hir Gilvegil," Alex said easily, giving him a cheeky grin. "Ci mae?"

If Gil was surprised that Alex knew his rightful name, he gave no indication, only smiling as he answered, "Aur vaer, Alex. Olthanneg vae?"

Alex gave him a puzzled look. "Er... um... man thêl oltha?" he asked, mentally dropping the past tense marker and pronoun suffix as he’d been taught to find the root verb.

"I asked you if you had good dreams," Gil said. "No nightmares?"

"About the tarn, you mean?" Alex shook his head, then glanced around furtively as other students sauntered in. He leaned closer to speak in a whisper. "Not about the tarn, and it wasn’t really a nightmare, just confusing, but... I kept dreaming about... um... Beren."

Gil raised an eyebrow at that but did not comment.

"Did Glor... er... I mean, Loren... did Loren tell you what happened over the weekend?"

"Yes, he filled me in. I’m very glad to know that you know and that you are on our side."

"I’m not exactly sure if I’m on your side or not. More like, I’m on Amroth’s side."

Gil nodded. "So you were dreaming about Beren?" he prompted.

"Not really about Beren. I was Beren, or at least, that’s how it seemed, but the storyline was all skewed. Who’s Glorendil?"

Gil actually went pale and his eyes darkened. Alex forced himself not to flinch or step back but he was feeling the first shreds of panic at the Elf’s reaction to the name. "Gil? What’s wrong?"

He watched as Gil visibly pulled himself together, his expression troubled. "I think you need to see Ron and Loren about this," he finally said. "I’ll let them know and they’ll contact you. Why don’t you take your seat and we’ll get started?"

"Who’s Glorendil?" Alex insisted. "I’ve got a feeling I didn’t just make him up, did I?"

"This isn’t the time or place, Alex. Trust me. You will get your answers but they will have to wait, alright?"

Alex grimaced slightly, then sighed. "This is all new to me," he finally said. "I haven’t a clue as to what’s happening to me and I can’t afford this distraction. I need to be in control of the situation or a lot of innocent people could be hurt."

"I understand," Gil said sympathetically. "I promise, as soon as this class is over, I’ll speak with Ron and Loren."

"Thanks," Alex said, then took his seat.

Derek gave him a concerned look. "You okay, mate?"

"Sure. I just needed to tell Gil something."

"Right then," Gil said briskly. "I trust you all had a good weekend. Alex, welcome back to class. I’m glad to see you’re fully recovered from your ordeal. Now, if you take a look at the board you will see I have a set of sentences. Can anyone tell me what strikes you as odd about them?"

Alex stared at the board, mentally translating the Sindarin, but coming up short when one of the words in the first sentence didn’t make sense. "I-nagor?" he asked hesitantly. "What does that mean?"

"If I were to write it like this," and Gil took a marker and wrote i-dhagor above the word Alex had indicated, "does that make more sense?"

"The battle," someone said.

"Very good. However, it’s completely wrong. Sindarin has a handful of words which you’ll need to memorize that don’t follow the same mutation rules you’ve been learning. These are known as archaic nasalized stop mutations and they are derived from the original root word. Dagor is derived from the following." He wrote NDAK above the word in question. "So, when these words suffer either nasal, mixed or stop mutation, the original initial consonant, in this case ‘nd’ is restored." He wrote out another word; i-ndegyr. "The battles," he translated. "And as you can see in the sentence itself, for soft mutation, the initial consonant becomes ‘n’ and in liquid mutations, it reverts to the base consonant, which, of course, is ‘d’. These special mutations only affect words which begin with ‘b’, ‘d’ or ‘g’ where the original root word began either as ‘mb’ ‘nd’ or ‘ng’. So, let’s take a look on page one-oh-two, where you will see the archaic nasalized stop mutation chart and the list of words which use these mutations....."

****

"My brain hurts," Derek muttered as he and Alex made their way out and down the hall to the lounge once the class was over.

Alex grinned. "Tell me about it. And I thought Russian was complicated."

"It seems Sindarin is nothing but memorization," Derek groused.

"That’s true with all languages," Alex replied philosophically. "I’m sure you had to do a lot of memorization of Japanese before it became second nature."

"True," Derek admitted. "Whoever designed this language is obviously a linguistic genius to have come up with something like archaic nasalized stop mutations, don’t you think?"

"Definitely," Alex agreed, hiding a smile, knowing that the language was anything but ‘designed’. "So I take it this is our last history class," he said as he gave the attendant his coffee order.

"Yeah. Pity. I was really enjoying it."

Alex just nodded as they found a table where others were sitting and joined them. Someone asked Alex how he was doing and how was his weekend since he wasn’t with them for the camping trip and he spent a few minutes describing the picnic with filet mignon, lobster and clams to the utter envy of his listeners.

****

When they were settled in the next class, Della began handing out blue booklets with lined paper typically used in colleges for essay writing. "Since this is your last class, we’re going to have a final." There were groans from nearly everyone.

"But we didn’t study and some of us were camping this weekend," someone complained.

"This is not that kind of final," Della assured them, "Later this week we’ll be holding the name lottery where you’ll be given an elvish-sounding name, which you will use when you are working as a guide, although we highly recommend you begin calling one another by whatever name you get so you are used to it. At any rate, what I want you to do here is to write out a biography of your Elf persona. Go ahead and use your own name, but choose a time and a place and tell me about yourself. I don’t expect you to remember everything we’ve learned here, but you must have picked up something about the history of the Elves that you can use as a background to your persona. Give me as much detail as you can remember. You will be graded more on imagination than on accuracy, but if you insist that Lindon was founded in the second year of the First Age and that Gil-galad was King of Doriath, I will have to wonder where your mind’s been these last two months."

There were chuckles throughout the class and the tension lessened. "So, you have the entire class time to write your masterpiece. Feel free to throw in some Sindarin phrases where appropriate. Again, I will grade you on your effort rather than on grammatical accuracy. These will be returned to you next week so you can use them to build your persona. The children, especially, will ask questions about yourself and if you have a ready answer, you will be more believable as a guide."

Alex nodded to himself, already mentally deciding how he would write his ‘bio’. It was not dissimilar to what he did when creating a persona for infiltration into a terrorist group, but this time it was nice to be able to play being a good guy. He was surprised how that made him feel. ‘Alex Grant’, as originally conceived, was anything but good. He was a sociopath who loved blowing things up and causing pain. It had been a rather distasteful role and he’d only borrowed the name and not the persona behind it when he came to Wiseman. Now, for the first time, he could create a persona from scratch that was ultimately ‘good’ and not ‘evil’.

Putting pen to paper, he began to write out: ‘Mae govannen. My name is Alex and I was born in the hidden city of Nargothrond to a Noldorin warrior named Ambrose who married a Sindarin weaver named Anne. My father was attached to King Finrod’s household and...."

The words flowed out of him, and he barely stopped to think about it. Creating a believable persona came naturally to him after long years of practice. He smiled to himself as he remembered some of his earlier attempts and Ambrose’s patient (and sometimes not so patient) corrections. Time seemed to slip away and he found himself caught up with his bio, relishing the little details he’d been able to call up: the way his mother’s tapestries graced the king’s own halls, the sound of the fountains and the myriad crystal lamps that had turned a series of caves into a place of beauty and light. He stopped at one point to check the time and saw he still had about twenty minutes. He leaned back in his chair and started re-reading what he’d written so far to see how he needed to end his story and stared in shock when he reached the second page to find it covered with neatly written tengwar script. He flipped to the next page and the next and it was all written in tengwar. He went back to the second page and began picking out the letters, thinking he’d simply written in English using tengwar, but to his rising horror, he realized the words were actually Sindarin and some of them he didn’t even recognize.

He swallowed and glanced up and raised his hand when Della happened to look his way. She raised an eyebrow but came over to his desk. "Is there something wrong, Alex?" she whispered.

For an answer, he thrust the booklet at her. "What’s happening to me?" he pleaded.

She took the booklet and started reading it from the beginning, smiling at what she read, but the smile froze when she turned to the next page. Alex simply sat there staring at her, watching the play of emotions as her mouth dropped open in surprise. He could feel himself begin to panic and ruthlessly squashed it, bringing to fore all his training to keep himself from falling apart. Della closed the booklet and handed it back to him, then leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Stay calm. When the class is over, remain in your seat. I’m going to contact Loren."

"And Ron," Alex said faintly. "I think I need Ron."

Della nodded, patting his shoulder as she straightened. "Fifteen more minutes," she announced. "I’m going to step out for a moment, so continue writing. If you finish early, re-read your work and make any corrections and additions you need to."

Alex sat in miserable silence as Della left the room. She was not gone long and when she returned, she simply gave him a nod as she announced that anyone who was done could hand in their paper and leave. "Make sure your name is on the front cover," she reminded them as she began accepting papers. Derek got up to hand in his paper then returned to his desk to collect his books. "Are you okay, Alex?" he whispered. "You look a bit pale. Maybe you should go lie down for a bit."

"No, I’m okay," Alex lied. "Uh, I need to speak with Della for a few minutes so I’ll wait until the class is over. Don’t wait for me. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria."

Derek nodded and left and another ten minutes saw the room emptying of students as they handed in their papers, most of them comparing biographies as they gathered their things and left. Alex never moved, his hands clenched around the booklet, his eyes staring sightlessly at the space above the whiteboard. Della was quietly sorting the other booklets and placing them in a briefcase. The door opened and Loren entered, followed by Ron and Darren. Loren went directly to Alex, holding out his hand. Alex gave him the booklet, remaining silent as the Elf-lord quickly scanned the pages, giving the booklet to Ron who then gave it to Darren. Della joined them and the four Elves turned seats around so that they were all facing Alex.

Ron was the first to speak, leaning over to place a comforting hand on Alex’s arm. "Let me put your mind at ease. You are not insane and you are not possessed."

"What am I then?" Alex demanded. "Why is this happening?"

"I have a theory, but it’s only that, a theory," Ron answered and when Alex nodded his understanding, he continued. "I think your near-death experience triggered certain genes to activate, genes that apparently hold aspects of memory."

"So he’s a reincarnation of Beren?" Loren asked dubiously. "If that’s so, then why is he writing about the life of an Elf in Nargothrond?"

Ron shook his head. "No, it’s not reincarnation, it’s a racial memory."

"And there’s a difference?" Alex asked.

"Yes. Racial memory is in the DNA but reincarnation is in the spirit. Something happened to you to activate the racial memory of your Edain forefathers. Now, I’m not saying you’re a descendant of Beren and therefore of Lúthien. It would be impossible to prove. I’m saying that the blood of the Dúnedain runs in you and that is the racial memory you’re experiencing." He turned to Loren. "You said that you accompanied the people of Dol Amroth into the south." Loren nodded. "The princes of Dol Amroth had Elven blood in them even if diluted. It’s possible that Alex is descended from them."

"And there was intermarriage between the House of Galador and the House of Telcontar," Loren added. "Aragorn’s fourth daughter married one of Imrahil’s great-grandson’s."

Ron nodded, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "That would perhaps explain why Alex is able to draw upon both his Edain and Elvish heritage for his memories, assuming, of course, he truly is one of Lúthien and Beren’s descendants."

"Among others," Loren pointed out with a smile. "If we accept what you are suggesting as true, it means that he has Maiarin blood in him as well. That may be what has been activated."

"What are you saying?" Alex demanded. "Are you saying I’m not only part Elvish but part angelic, as well?"

"Only a very, very small part of each," Daeron answered. "You are still Mortal, but I suspect that if you were to examine your family history, one side or the other is longer lived than is considered average for Mortals."

"Most of my mom’s family seem to have lived well into their nineties and even past a hundred," Alex admitted.

"Then we must assume that it’s from your mother’s side of the family that you are descended from the line of the Sea-Kings and the Princes of Dol Amroth," Daeron said.

"So, everyone has these racial memories?" Alex asked Ron.

"Yes, or so the theory goes," he answered. "For most people, these memories are inaccessible except possibly through dreams or deep meditation. I think your near-death experience eroded more than one kind of barrier."

They sat in silence for a moment or two, digesting what had been said between them. Finally, Loren stirred, giving Alex a sympathetic smile. "I know this is very confusing, if not downright frightening, for you, Alex, but I want you to know that you’re not alone. You have us and we will do all in our power to help you through this."

"I don’t need this," Alex said, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t need the distraction. What if I... um... zone out at a critical moment? I could be a danger to others."

"Would you consider returning to Edhellond for a time?" Loren asked. "We can keep a closer eye on you there than here."

Alex shook his head. "No. I don’t think that would work and it would be unfair to Derek. He’d be alone. I don’t like the idea of him being alone." He blinked, giving them a confused look. "Why did I just say that? Why does the idea of leaving Derek alone make my skin crawl?"

"Do you think he could be in danger?" Della asked, joining the conversation for the first time.

"I don’t know, but... Farrell." He frowned and he suddenly noticed his hands were clenched and had to force himself to unclench them. "I don’t trust Farrell not to retaliate against me through Derek or others. He has to be thoroughly pissed off at my refusal to toe the line for him."

"I can arrange for protection," Loren said, "but I think you should follow your instincts and remain here with Derek. In the meantime, try to stay calm. Perhaps you and Ron can make arrangements to meet and discuss what is happening with you. I still think your nightmares are the key to all this."

"I agree," Ron said with a nod. "You’re missing lunch and archery will be starting soon."

"I don’t feel very hungry right now and frankly I don’t think I can face an archery field at the moment. I’d like to just be alone."

"I don’t like the idea of you being alone any more than you like the idea of Derek being alone," Loren said with a frown. "Come have lunch with us and then afterwards, why don’t you plan to spend the afternoon with Ron? We’ll get you back here in plenty of time for dinner."

Alex nodded reluctantly. "I should go find Derek and tell him. I was supposed to meet him at the cafeteria."

"I’ll find him and let him know," Della said. "I’m planning to meet Amroth there for lunch anyway. Alex, can you read any of what you’ve written?" She held out the blue booklet.

"Some of it," Alex admitted, "but a lot of words I don’t know."

"Why don’t I translate it for you so you can see what you wrote?" Della suggested.

"I really don’t care if I ever see that booklet again," Alex replied, almost snarling.

"No, son," Ron said. "That’s not the right attitude. Let Della translate it and then you and I will go over it and talk about how it makes you feel when you read about this Elf’s life. I think it would go a long way to helping you resolve some of your identity issues."

"Ron is correct," Loren said, rising from his seat. "Can you get the translation to them this afternoon?" he asked Della.

"No problem. I’ll bring it myself after lunch."

"Then let’s be on our way," Loren said and the others rose. Alex remained in his seat, though, unsure if he really wanted to join them. Ron seemed to understand his ambivalence and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "It’s all right, Alex. We’ll get through this together, okay?"

Alex nodded and stood. "Would it be alright if... if Ambrose sat in with us?" he asked, sounding meek and uncertain.

"If that’s what you want," Ron answered gently. When Alex nodded, he smiled. "Then I think that would be fine. Will you tell him, Della?"

"Of course," Della said. "And that would work out better. I can have him bring the translation as I’d actually planned to meet up with Daisy and Alfa after lunch."

"Then we seem to be a set," Loren said. "Why don’t you go put your things away, Alex? We’ll meet you downstairs."

"I’ll go with you," Ron offered and Alex gave him a grateful look as they all headed out the door.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Aur vaer, hir Gilvegil: ‘Good morrning, Lord Gilvegil.’

Ci mae?" ‘You are well?’

Olthanneg vae?: ‘Did you (informal) dream well?’

Man thel oltha?: ‘What does oltha mean?’

25: Delving into the Past

The ride to Edhellond was done in silence and lunch was a strained affair, at least for Alex, who barely ate, though Glorfindel insisted he at least have the minestrone soup Gil had made for them. As they ate, Glorfindel informed the others who were there that the library would be used as a consultation room for Vorondur and Alex and their privacy was to be respected. Alex was thankful that none of the others peppered him with questions, though he could not help but notice the occasional raised eyebrow or the concerned looks cast his way. He sat in stony silence, staring at the table, refusing to participate in the quiet conversation around him. Once lunch was over, Elladan and Elrohir left to teach archery and the others attended to their own affairs, leaving Alex alone with Vorondur and Glorfindel.

"Amroth should be along soon," Glorfindel said as the three were cleaning up the kitchen. "Why don’t you two go to the library and I’ll make some tea or coffee. I need to start the roast anyway if we’re to have any dinner at a reasonable hour tonight."

Vorondur nodded. "I think tea would be appropriate. Coffee I think is the last thing Alex needs right now."

Alex grimaced. "I was looking forward to some, but I guess I can live without it for a bit. Never really got into tea, though Lord knows I drank my share of it when I was working in the Middle East. I think it was months before I could get the taste of cardamon out of my mouth."

The other two grinned and Alex dutifully followed Ron to the library. They met Amroth coming down the hall carrying the blue booklet and a sheaf of legal size papers. "Glorfindel is making tea," Vorondur said by way of greeting.

Amroth nodded, handing the papers to him. "I’m going to go freshen up a bit. Don’t start without me."

Vorondur chuckled and Alex grimaced as Amroth headed for the lavatory. Inside the library, Ron asked Alex to make himself comfortable while he put a log on the fire. "Can I read the translation?" he asked the Elf, but Vorondur just shook his head.

"Why don’t we wait until everyone is here and then we’ll read it together."

Alex sighed and leaned back in his chair closing his eyes. "I really hate this," he said without opening his eyes. "I wish I’d never come here. I should’ve told Maddy to take a flying leap and find someone else. Maybe they were right to suspect my feelings towards Ambrose. I’m not sure I could have pulled the trigger."

"I would have stopped you, anyway," he heard Amroth say as the former king of Laurinand entered the library. "You forget, I knew the failsafe word to incapacitate you."

Alex opened his eyes to look at Amroth standing over him. "And would you have killed me like you did Bradford?" he asked and his tone was not confrontational but more curious, speaking as one agent to another about techniques of espionage.

"As to that, I honestly don’t know," Amroth admitted after a moment. "I think I would have found some way to convince you not to kill me first, but in the end, who can say? I haven’t survived this long without becoming just a little bit ruthless."

Alex nodded, perhaps the only person in the room to appreciate what Amroth was saying. Before he could think of something to say, Glorfindel entered carrying a tray. "Ah, good, you’re here," he said to Amroth, giving him a nod in greeting. "Why don’t we get ourselves settled and find out what this is all about? I see you brought the translation."

"Very interesting reading," Amroth said. "Della and I were both impressed and shocked and if she didn’t already have plans for the afternoon, I’m sure she would’ve insisted on joining us."

"And I would have denied her that," Vorondur said solemnly. "You are here only because Alex specifically asked for you and Glorfindel is here because I doubt he would leave even if given a direct order from Lord Manwë himself."

Glorfindel smirked. "True, but, Alex, if you would feel more comfortable without my presence, please say so. I won’t be offended and I won’t demand to know what is said between you and Vorondur and Amroth afterwards unless you give them permission to discuss it with me. It’s your call."

"Thanks," Alex said gratefully. "Actually, I don’t mind you being here. I think ultimately you’d need to know anyway and this way we’re not wasting time."

"Fair enough," Glorfindel said as he brought another chair over by the fireplace. "Ron, I’ll let you take the lead on this. Amroth and I are here more as witnesses and to give Alex moral support."

"Why don’t we begin with this essay then?" Vorondur suggested. "Glorfindel and I only took a quick glance at it, so I think only Amroth knows every detail. Do you want me to read the translation, Alex, or would you like to?"

Alex shook his head. "Frankly, I’m scared at what I might have written. I’m not even sure I’m ready to hear it."

"But you need to hear it anyway," Vorondur said gently. "We’ll take it slow. There’s no rush. If at anytime you feel at all overwhelmed, call out. We’ll take this at your pace, all right?"

Alex nodded. Glorfindel poured some peppermint tea into a cup and handed it to him. "This should help," he offered and Alex accepted the cup and took a sip or two. When it appeared that he was calmer, Vorondur, who had been scanning the pages of translation, said, "I see Della left in the Sindarin that Alex used in the beginning when he was still writing in English."

Amroth nodded. "She thought it important to show the progression between English and Sindarin and marked where the text becomes completely Sindarin." He gave Alex a sly grin. "By the way, Della says you passed the course with flying colors."

Alex simply closed his eyes, stifling a groan or perhaps it was a growl; even he wasn’t sure which it was. Loren patted his arm. "It’s all right, Alex. Ron, read the essay." Alex kept his eyes closed as Vorondur started reading:

"‘Mae govannen. My name is Alex and I was born in the hidden city of Nargothrond to a Noldorin warrior named Ambrose who married a Sindarin weaver named Anne. My adar was attached to Aran Finrod’s household and my first memories are of playing in the fountain before the king’s courtyard and hearing Aran Finrod laugh over some jest offered by one of the courtiers. I remember the sound of my naneth’s loom as she wove bright tapestries, some of which hung in the king’s own hall, a great honor. There was light and laughter and always there was singing. We lived in caves, but you would not have known it.’"

Vorondur stopped, and Alex opened his eyes, giving him a puzzled look. "At this point according to Della, the text becomes completely Sindarin," the Elf said. "She made a note. It reads, ‘The person writing this is not Alex or even Artemus’."

"What does she mean by that?" Alex demanded. "If I wasn’t writing it, who was? You said I wasn’t possessed."

"Nor were you," Vorondur assured him. "Alex, tell me what you intended to write. Who were you pretending to be?"

"When Della described the assignment, I decided I would be an Elf from Nargothrond who fought in the Nirnaeth and survived, but did not return to Nargothrond. Instead, I found myself retreating with the remnant of Fingon’s army attached to Turgon and thus came to Gondolin where I was taken into Lord Glorfindel’s household." He paused, giving them a shy smile.

Glorfindel gave him an amused look. "And I would have gladly accepted so puissant a warrior into my household."

"Go on," Vorondur said. "What happened next?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, when Gondolin fell I fled to the Mouths of Sirion with the Lady Idril and Lord Tuor and then fought against the Fëanoreans when they attacked us. Eventually, I joined in the War of Wrath and afterwards settled in Lindon where I became attached to Gil-galad’s household as his captain of guards."

"A very exciting life," Amroth said with a grin.

"It... it’s the first time I ever got a chance to create someone who wasn’t a bad guy," Alex said softly, not looking at anyone. "I... I was having fun, but now...."

"Should I go on?" Vorondur asked sympathetically and after a moment’s hesitation, Alex nodded. "Keep in mind what Alex intended to write as I read this," the Elf said to the others. "And Alex, to set your mind at ease, the person you actually wrote about was a good guy, too. So, here we go: ‘A time came when I was old enough to assume my place among the warriors of Nargothrond. For a time I patrolled the highlands of Dorthonion under Captain Glorendil of the Gwaith Orod-nuin-Elenath’... That means the Mountain-under-the-Stars Company, Alex, in case you’re wondering. Della left it in the Sindarin. She apparently felt it significant."

"It is," Glorfindel said, "but let’s hear the rest first before we start analyzing it."

"Wait!" Alex exclaimed and the Elves gave him their attention. "I dreamt of Glorendil last night. Didn’t Gil tell you?"

"Yes, he did. He said you were Beren but the storyline seemed skewed to you."

"Sort of. I’m not sure where we were, an island, I think, and I... I mean Beren only had one hand. Then Glorendil came from somewhere and... frankly, I’m not really sure what happened after that. Do you think my dreaming of Beren and Glorendil influenced what I wrote?"

"Perhaps," Glorfindel said. "Ron is the expert on that sort of thing. Why don’t we hear what exactly you did write before we jump to any kind of conclusions. Ron?"

Vorondur nodded, glancing back at the text and started reading again. "‘We patrolled the highlands under orders from King Finrod’s brothers but when the Battle of Sudden Flame fell upon us we were driven from Dorthonion. My adar died during the retreat trying to save Lord Angrod and I was wounded myself and was carried from the field by Captain Glorendil. We eventually made our way back to Nargothrond. For thirty years of the sun we lived in peace, licking our wounds from the terrible defeat and remained hidden within the fastness of Nargothrond. Then a day came when the Mortal Beren son of Barahir of the House of Bëor appeared before our gates and he was brought before the king.’"

"Beren again," Glorfindel said.

Amroth nodded. "Everything seems to center around Beren."

"And we can discuss the ramifications of that later, as well, but let me finish this. There’s not much more of the essay to read." When everyone else nodded, he continued. "So, let’s see... ‘brought before the king. What was said between them I do not know, but when Aran Finrod announced to the populace that he would join the Mortal in a quest to retrieve one of the silmarils from Morgoth’s Iron Crown, asking who would join him, I felt a stirring in my heart and a dread and remained silent, for I was but a lowly warrior, not even death-sworn to the king."

"Whoa!" Alex exclaimed. "Death-sworn? What the hell does that mean?"

"I’ll explain later," Glorfindel said. "Why don’t we let Ron finish first. I have a feeling I know where this is going."

Alex nodded. "Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Vorondur assured him. "And there is little more. Let me just summarize. You recall what happened when Finrod called for volunteers to join him and Beren, don’t you?"

"Yeah, he got a vote of no-confidence from his subjects, but then a bunch of warriors led by...um... sorry, can’t remember, anyway, ten guys joined up and they went on the quest but they were captured and thrown into Sauron’s dungeon and all but Finrod and Beren died, eaten by...." He paused, blanching as certain things became clearer. He suddenly found it hard to breathe and the room seemed to darken. "Eyes... eyes in the dark. Edrahil, no! NO!!" The last was screamed. He felt someone grab him and fought, unsure what was happening, tears blinding him as he wept, lost in the horror of a blood-splattered dungeon and eyes glowing in the dark.

"ALEX! Alex!"

"Artemus, stop!"

"Valar, he’s going to... Fionwë!"

There was a blinding light and the air became redolent with the scent of apples and mint. Arms wrapped themselves around him and though he fought and screamed he could not escape. Eventually, he collapsed, too weak and heart-sore to continue. He vaguely heard voices and thought he recognized Ron’s but he was too lost in uncaring at that point and paid little heed. The person holding him brought him to the sofa and he found himself lying down, a quilt thrown over him and then someone touched his forehead and he heard singing. It was the last thing he remembered for a time.

****

Alex opened his eyes, blinking at the library ceiling, wondering why he was lying down, trying to put his memory into some sort of order. They were reading the essay he’d written and then.... He frowned, unable to recall anything. He must have made some kind of movement or sound, for there was Ron standing over him, giving him a concerned look.

"How do you feel?"

"What happened?" Alex asked. "Did... did I do something stupid?"

Ron smiled, holding out a hand which Alex took, throwing the quilt off him to stand. "You freaked out, as they say. It took us a bit to calm you down."

"How long have I been out?"

"About an hour. Glorfindel is warming up the tea, but I think you could stand for something a bit stronger. We have some sherry if you’d like."

"Yeah, I think I could use some."

"Then sit by the fire and I’ll get you a glass." He made his way to a cabinet on the other side of the room and pulled out a decanter and a small snifter.

"Where’s Amroth?" Alex asked, realizing the two were alone.

"He stepped out for a bit. He’ll be back soon. Do you remember what we were talking about before you... um... had your episode?"

"Is that what you’re calling it? We were reading my essay. I think I died." He nodded his thanks as Vorondur handed him the glass and took a grateful sip, letting the liqueur do its work. "You said I wasn’t possessed and I’m not a reincarnation of anyone else, so what am I? Who was writing that essay?"

"You were, but you were unconsciously tapping into a racial memory. The fact that you aren’t accessing only one person’s memories, but are shifting back and forth between people tells me that it’s not reincarnation, otherwise you would only have the memories of that one person."

"And how can I have the memories of some dead Elf, assuming he actually lived and I didn’t just make him up."

"That is something of a mystery," Vorondur acknowledged, "but my theory is that you are somehow tapping into memories that may have been shared with Beren. Everything seems to center around him. You are either him or you are someone close to him. It’s possible that Beren and this particular Elf formed a close friendship in the short time that they knew one another. I really don’t know. This is all theoretical."

Alex was about to comment when the door opened and Glorfindel came in with a pot of tea. Amroth was right behind him. "Ah, awake at last," Glorfindel said with a smile. "And I see Ron’s supplied you with something a little stronger than peppermint tea."

"I think I needed a little drink," Alex said with a slight grin. "Actually, I think I need a lot of little drinks."

The Elves chuckled. "That won’t do," Amroth said. "We don’t want you returning to the Academy drunk."

"I’m not sure I want to stay sober any longer," Alex retorted with a sigh, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair, letting the fire and the sherry warm him inside and out.

"We were discussing the reason why Alex seems to be tapping into both Mortal and Elvish memories," he heard Vorondur explain. "Frankly, I’m at a loss. In all my days, I’ve never come across this phenomenon."

"What I want to know is how can I control the memories, if that’s what they are, so I don’t freak out every time someone mentions Beren’s name or something," Alex said, his eyes still closed. "I can’t afford this distraction. Too much is at stake and people, innocent people, can be harmed by this." Then he opened his eyes and glared at them. "And who the hell is Finway?"

For a moment the three Elves stared at him blankly and then Glorfindel threw back his head and started laughing, the sound of it like bells gaily singing and Alex couldn’t help smiling in return. The other two Elves also started laughing.

"It’s Fionwë," Glorfindel finally said, enunciating the name clearly, giving Alex a merry look. "Perhaps you’ll meet him some time, but not today. Look, Alex, I know this is very troubling, and I wish we could snap our fingers and make it all better, but that’s not going to happen. I think Ron is correct that when you died, however briefly it may have been, certain barriers of time and space were eroded. If you truly are a descendant of Beren and Lúthien, then you do indeed have both Elvish and Maiarin blood within you, though it is so diluted as to be of little consequence. Yet, apparently, it’s just enough for you to somehow tap into this racial memory. My advice, for what it’s worth, is not to fret too much over it. Concentrate on the reason you are here. The present is what matters, not the past."

"Easier said than done," Alex retorted with a shrug.

"I know," Glorfindel admitted, "but the thing to remember is that you’re not alone. We’re here to help you. You can call upon any of us. With your permission, Ron will explain it to the others so they are aware of what’s going on. So, continue attending your classes."

"And if you still want to get together with me on a semi-formal basis to talk things out, I’m always available, night or day," Vorondur said. "You have my number. Don’t hesitate to call me, whatever the hour."

Alex nodded. "It’s getting late. I should head back."

"Before you leave, though, I think we need to hear the rest of this story, don’t you?" Glorfindel commented.

"I guess," Alex said with a sigh.

Vorondur picked up the papers and, looking through them until he’d found where he’d left off, started reading again: "‘No one came forward and the Fëanoreans spoke long and loudly, turning the hearts of the people from their king. Then, Finrod threw down his crown and Edrahil, his first captain, stooped and retrieved it, stating that he would go with him and asked that the king appoint a regent. One-by-one, eight others also came forward and I saw that they were the death-sworn. I looked to Captain Glorendil, believing that he, too, would step forward and join his fellow warriors on the quest, but he did not. Indeed, when the king looked his way, the captain shook his head and left the hall. Shame filled me that the captain would dishonor his oath and therefore bring dishonor to our Company and before I knew what I was doing I stepped forward, announcing my intention to join in the Quest.’"

Vorondur stopped, his expression distant. "I remember that day, the day Nargothrond fell, though we did not know it at the time. Finrod was right and we paid for our treachery against him."

"You were....?!" Alex started to say then stopped, his eyes widening in shock at the import of the Elf’s words. "Did... did you know this... Elf?"

Vorondur did not answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the flames of the fire, lost in memory. Then he sighed and turned back to face Alex. "His name was Bregdal, and rightly named, for he was swift of foot. He was very young." There was a sadness in the Elf’s voice and eyes that spoke of sorrows unimagined. "He was my brother’s son."

"Your.... we’re related?!" was all Alex could think to say.

Vorondur laughed, the dark mood lifting. "No, Alex, we’re not related, at least I don’t think we are."

"I’m sorry. I wish I’d never written that stupid essay."

"I am not. I am grateful to have something of my nephew even in this manner. I would like to keep the booklet if I may."

Alex nodded, then turned to Glorfindel. "What’s all this about being death-sworn and why did this Glorendil refuse to go on the Quest? Was he that much of a coward?"

"No, Alex, Laurendil is anything but," Glorfindel replied. "He did not go on the Quest because it was not his destiny to do so, death-sworn or no, and Finrod told him that when they met again in Aman a thousand years later." He paused for a moment his expression turning almost as dark as Vorondur’s had been. "A custom arose among the Exiles wherein a warrior could offer Blood Oath to his lord and if it was accepted then he pretty much gave the lord the right to determine the hour of his death. It was not an oath that was lightly given or received. Finrod admitted that he even refused to accept the oath from some of his people. I remember Turgon doing so once."

"So did any of you...?"

"Turgon has my life," Glorfindel said with a nod.

"Uh... Turgon’s dead, isn’t he?"

"Yes, but you fail to appreciate the power of the oath," Glorfindel said with a slight smile. "It is the one oath that is not dissolved at death. Turgon has my life and when he is finally released from Mandos, if he hasn’t already been, that oath will still exist between us." He turned to Vorondur. "How much more of the essay is there?"

"Very little. Bregdal goes on to say how they left Nargothrond and headed north. It stops about there, which is when I suspect Alex stopped to read over what he’d written."

"Yeah, I looked up to see I had about twenty more minutes left, so I started to re-read the essay to determine how I should end it. I thought I was writing about... well, you know."

The Elves nodded. "Well, now that we’ve heard what you did write, we’ll have to think about its ramifications. In the meantime, if you think you’re steady enough, I’ll have Amroth drive you back to the college. It’s almost time for dinner and I did promise to get you back by then."

"Thanks. I don’t think I want to walk back anyway."

"Especially as it’s snowing," Amroth said with a grin.

"You’re kidding! Really?" Alex practically leapt from his chair to move to one of the windows, pulling back a drape to see snowflakes gently falling, already covering the ground in a blanket of white. "Wow! I’ve never seen snow this early before."

"It is a bit earlier than usual," Glorfindel said. "It won’t last. The temperatures will rise tomorrow into the forties and it’ll all be gone before noon."

"I’ll go warm up the car," Amroth said, rising from his chair.

"Let me just use the bathroom and I’ll be right out," Alex said, turning from the window.

"Take your time," Amroth said as he headed for the door.

Alex stopped at the bathroom for a moment then headed for the front door where Vorondur and Glorfindel waited for him. Vorondur held out the sheets of paper on which the translation was written. "You might want to have this."

"I guess," Alex said reluctantly, then gave them a sly look. "You know, of course, that I have no intention of becoming a Christmas elf so I won’t be using this to build my persona."

Glorfindel lifted an eyebrow. "We know no such thing, Alex Grant, and I think the story as you originally planned is fine. Use that to develop your Elf Guide persona, but I also think you should take the translation and read it on your own. You might learn something about yourself that you didn’t know before."

Alex simply nodded, taking the sheets of paper and folding them, shoving them into one the pockets of his jeans. "I better get going. Amroth is waiting for me."

"Remember," Glorfindel said, "you’re not alone."

"Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. And... um... thanks for putting up with me. I know I haven’t made it easy for you guys."

Both Glorfindel and Vorondur smiled. "You’re more than welcome, Alex," Glorfindel said, opening the door for him. "We’ll see you later."

Alex nodded and ran out, dodging the snowflakes as he headed for where Amroth was waiting with the car.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Mae govannen: ‘Well met’.

Adar: Father.

Aran: King.

Naneth: Mother.

26: The Name Game

The rest of the week passed without incident. Alex and Derek continued with their classes. In the last cooking class they built a gingerbread house. The previous week, while Alex was still in the hospital, Derek had begun baking the gingerbread and designing the house as he and Alex had discussed, so that on the last day of class everything was ready to put together. It was a pleasant three hours for Alex, losing himself in something so... domestic. He smiled to himself, wondering what his mom would think if she knew how he was really spending his time. The house was neither the grandest nor the most elaborate, but Alex was pleased by how it came out and Grace approved it.

"I’m glad to see you fully recovered," she told Alex. "Unfortunately, you missed Roy’s famous Hot Chocolate lecture."

"His what?" Alex couldn’t help laughing.

Grace gave him a wide grin. "Roy is fast becoming the world’s expert on the best way and all the ways to make hot chocolate. It’s become a hobby of his. Maybe if you’re extra good, he’ll give you a private lecture."

"Or you could just copy the recipes from me," Derek said with a grin. "The dark and white chocolate one is my favorite."

"Thanks. Next time I see him, I’ll ask him about it."

That evening, he met with Vorondur and Amroth after dinner, using one of the classrooms, to work out the profile on Farrell. There was very little either Alex or Amroth could tell about the man, so Alex explained about the type of training that any agent for the Agency went through and Amroth described the possible missions Farrell could have been given over the years, thereby creating a profile of ‘the Agent’, as Vorondur called it. When asked what the mindset of most agents tended to be as they took on more and more assignments, Amroth described the typical psychological and emotional problems he had seen among various agents that might apply to Farrell. It was not as complete a picture as they would like and there were many blanks and question marks with regards to Farrell himself, but Vorondur assured them that this template would be of use in deciding how best to handle the man. Both Alex and Amroth expressed their doubts over this, but both agreed that probably eighty percent of what they’d discussed applied to just about every agent, so it would have to do for the moment.

Friday, Alex walked into the Sindarin class with some trepidation. It had been easy for him to forget what had happened on Monday as he went about his normal routine. He’d shoved the translation into a drawer and made himself forget about it, but his dreams were still troubled and confused, though, thankfully, none of them had anything to do with the tarn. Still, walking into Gil’s class, he couldn’t help feeling nervous, wondering if just hearing the language would cause another blackout. When Gil entered the room, he stopped at Alex’s desk, giving him a concerned look.

"How are you faring?" he asked quietly.

"Okay," Alex answered. "I haven’t had any... um... flashbacks."

"Good." Gil smiled. "You know you can come to any of us if things become overwhelming."

"I know and thanks."

Gil nodded and went to the front of the room. "Just as a reminder," he said to everyone, "there is no nature walk this afternoon. Everyone is to report to room one-oh-one in the phys. ed. center at one o’clock for some fun and games. Wear comfortable clothing and don’t forget to bring your party face with you."

The students all chuckled at that. "Since we’ll be starting the activities at one, I’m letting you out a half an hour early so you have plenty of time for lunch." There were cheers at that announcement. "But in the meantime," Gil continued, giving them a sly grin, "let’s see how well you remember the archaic nasalized stop mutations." Cheers turned to groans as Gil began handing out the quiz.

****

After lunch Alex and Derek walked over to the physical education building along with the rest of the Academy students, everyone wondering what sort of games they were going to have to endure. He wasn’t surprised to hear one or two grumble about wishing they were doing the nature walk instead, even though the temperature had cooled over the week and it was threatening rain or even snow by the looks of the clouds forming to the west. Alex was happy to be spending the afternoon indoors even if he had to put up with stupid games.

But, he hadn’t taken into account the fact that the games were being overseen by Elves who had their own concept of ‘fun’.

Dropping off their coats in the men's locker room, Alex and Derek made their way to the gym where they discovered that the inner wall had been pushed back so that two gyms were combined as one. The gym was cordoned off by colorful ropes into various sections and each section had a flag on a pole. Alex noticed that all the Elves were present as well as the other teachers. He even saw Zach and his friends and waved at them and they waved back. As each person entered, they were greeted by Phil and Roy holding large baskets with pieces of colored slips of paper inside them. Each student was required to pull a slip out without looking. Alex found himself holding a yellow slip while Derek had a green one.

"Go to the flag that matches the color of your slip," Phil told them, so Alex waved goodbye to Derek and made his way with other students clutching yellow slips of paper to where the yellow flag stood and there he found Amroth and Jud waiting for them. Once everyone had found where they were supposed to go to, Loren, holding a microphone, greeted them.

"Next week will be the second term," he told them, "and you will be switching classes. To give you a break from your routine and to celebrate making it to the halfway mark, we’re spending the afternoon having fun. You’ll all have a chance to move to the different areas of the gym and try your luck at various games. For now, listen to your instructors and... let the games begin."

He gave them a cheeky grin and there was spontaneous clapping and whistling among the students as they turned their attention to their instructors. Alex looked at Amroth, who grinned at them. "Find a partner," he ordered them and they took a few minutes to sort themselves out. Alex found himself partnering with Lucy Barton. Jud, meanwhile was going around and tying rope around their legs.

"We’re doing a three-legged race?" someone asked, sounding rather disgusted. "That’s pretty lame."

Amroth’s grin only broadened and Alex, recognizing the look, turned to Lucy. "Oh-oh. We are so screwed."

She just gave him a disbelieving look, not understanding. Amroth ordered everyone to line up along the perimeter of the cordoned off area facing all in the same direction. "This is not your usual three-legged race," he said. "If you’re the one standing next to the rope, hold on to it. Now, starting with Lindsey and Mike, here, you will walk backwards WITHOUT looking over your shoulder. It will be the responsibility of the person next to the rope to guide you."

"You’re kidding!" someone exclaimed.

"If you trip and fall, you’re out," Amroth continued as if he’d not heard the person’s protest. "And if you manage to trip the people behind you, they’re out as well. Jud will go around and tap your shoulder and that’s the signal for you to go. Everyone ready?" There were shouts of ‘No!’ and Amroth just chuckled, nodding at Jud who went to Lindsey and Mike to get them started.

Alex, who was by the rope, held Lucy tight and bent down to whisper in her ear, "Follow my count. On one, move back with your right foot and on two we move back with our bound feet, okay?"

Lucy nodded. "It’s not going to help that we’re not the same height."

"And that’s just part of the fun," Alex said with a grin even as Jud came by them and tapped Lucy on the shoulder. "Here we go. One." They stepped back rather awkwardly and Alex tightened his hold on Lucy. "Two." Trying to coordinate their movements was even more difficult with the bound legs, but as Alex continued counting out in a whisper they seemed to find a rhythm. He was grateful for the rope; it not only guided their route but gave him extra support.

"No looking over the shoulder," Amroth reminded them and then somewhere behind them Alex heard someone shouting in surprise and then there was the sound of bodies falling and several curses turning the air blue around them. "Hold up," Amroth called out. "Let’s get these people out of the way first." Alex sneaked a peek behind him to see two couples tangled with one another while Jud and Amroth endeavored to untie them so they could move out of the line. It took a few minutes and then the four students were made to go into the center and sit. "All right, on the count of three. One, two, three, go!"

Alex gave Lucy a grin and they set off again. Alex kept an eye on the couple before them, hoping to keep out of their way. He had no idea how close or far they were from the couple behind them and decided he couldn’t worry about it. Three more times couples tripped and were disqualified until only a few remained standing, including Alex and Lucy.

"You okay?" Alex asked her at one point when they had stopped so Amroth and Jud could disentangle three couples who had managed to collide with one another. Lucy gave him a brave smile, sweat dripping from her forehead. "I almost wish we would trip. I’m getting tired."

"Me, too," Alex said. "So, should we trip on purpose or see if we can make it to the end?"

"Tripping on purpose would be cheating," Lucy said with all seriousness.

Alex nodded. "Then we’ll continue as long as we can."

The signal came for them to start again. Those sitting in the middle had begun playing their own game. Someone started humming the jack-in-the-box song and the others picked up on it, humming it over and over again and when someone fell, there would be a chorus of "Pop goes the weasel" followed by much laughter and clapping as they welcomed the hapless victims to their exalted group of losers. Alex ignored it, letting his training take over. He happened to catch Amroth’s gaze at one point and noticed the amused smile on the Elf’s face as the students sitting in the middle continued their humming. He wasn’t at all surprised that Amroth had not told the students to remain silent, suspecting that that was part of the game. Lucy, however, did not have his training and when someone called out her name, she stumbled. Alex grabbed her tightly, hoping to save them from a fall just as a whistle blew and Amroth yelled for them all to stop. Alex let go of the rope and allowed himself and Lucy to fall.

"Sorry," she said. "Damn that Chris!"

"Don’t worry about it," Alex said with a laugh as he attempted to undo the knot on the ropes around their legs. "We held out longer than most."

It turned out that only three couples, including Alex and Lucy, had managed to make it to the end. Everyone cheered and Alex gratefully accepted a towel from Jud to wipe the sweat from his face. Someone else came around with bottles of water for everyone and then, after a brief rest, each group began to migrate to another area where they found another game to play. They were all popular games but there was always a subtle twist to them that made them more challenging. And so the afternoon progressed. Around three, there was a general recess while snacks were distributed and people were allowed to attend to personal needs if necessary. Music played in the background and in spite of the challenges which the games presented, the overall mood of the students was lighthearted and there was much laughter and joking.

It turned out that whoever they had teamed up with in the first game remained their partner for all the others. Sometimes he and Lucy managed to finish, other times they didn’t, but Alex didn’t mind as much as Lucy seemed to; he was simply enjoying himself. By the time they had participated in all the various games, though, even Alex was feeling wobbly and he welcomed the hot shower that followed, finally meeting up with Derek in the locker room.

"How did you do?" he asked his roommate as they were getting dressed.

"Fair to middling," Derek replied, shutting the locker door and turning the lock. "I think I managed to survive two or three to the end." He shrugged, giving Alex a smile. "Don’t really care. I was having fun."

"So, who was your partner?" Alex asked.

"Mick Sanford. He’s from the other section, taking the courses we’ll be taking starting next week. When we ended up sitting games out, we spent the time filling each other in on the courses we’ve been taking. Sounds like the wilderness survival and nature studies will be pretty interesting and we’ll be able to do some hands-on stuff in those classes."

"You’ll have to tell me about it later. Right now, there’s a cafeteria seat with my name on it. I’m starved."

"I hear you, mate. Let’s go get some chow. The name lottery they’re having after dinner should be pretty interesting."

"So long as I don’t get the name Bregdal," Alex muttered to himself.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," Alex said, forcing a grin. "Let’s get back to the Academy before all the food is gone."

****

When they arrived at the cafeteria they were surprised to see it decorated with balloons and streamers. On each table there was a box with slips of paper and another with pens. Alex and Derek gave each other shrugs, not knowing their purpose. There had been a general announcement at the gym before people were dismissed reminding everyone to be at the cafeteria by seven for those who chose not to eat there, which usually meant the students who lived off campus. Apparently, many of them decided it was easier to eat at the cafeteria rather than make another trip to the campus so the place was more crowded than usual, especially for a Friday night.

As they were eating, Alex noticed that a couple of tables were being set up along one wall of the room where there was a platform. Then it appeared as if all the Elves trooped in. He saw the Twins carrying boxes that were set on the tables while Daeron and Mithrellas sat on either end, each with a pad of paper. Glorfindel stood in front of the tables and shouted to get their attention, which came rather quickly given the number of people there.

"I hope you all enjoyed the games," he said with a grin and there was a round of applause and cheering. He raised his hands and quiet resumed. "You will see on the tables some paper and pens. Take a moment to write your name on the paper, then if you’re male, put your slip in this box." He held up one of the boxes and they could all see it was labeled ‘Men’. "And if you’re female, you put your name in this box." He held up another labeled ‘Women’. "And if you’ve taken too many shots in the head today and can’t figure out which box is which, just come to one of us and we’ll straighten you out."

There was a roar of laughter at that and then people were grabbing slips of paper and writing out their names, getting up and shoving the slips into the appropriate box. By now, most had finished their dinners and were clearing off the tables. The kitchen staff had set up another table with various kinds of dessert, as well as a fruit punch, though coffee, tea and soda were also available. Alex grabbed some coffee and a brownie. Once they were all settled, Glorfindel spoke again.

"How this works is this: we’ll alternate starting with the ladies. Della will draw a name from the women’s box at the same time as Holly draws a name from this box." He picked up a box that they could see was labeled ‘Ellith’. "They will hand me the two names and when I call your name out, you come and get your Elvish name. Then go to Misty and she’ll make a record of it. Then Roy and Dan will pull out names for the men and you will go to Darren and he’ll record your name. These lists will be given to a local embroidery store where they will make name tags for you. You may wish to use the slip with the Elvish name as a temporary name tag and wear it from now on so you and your fellow students get used to them. You will find a pronunciation guide and the meaning of the name on the slip. Any questions? Then let us begin. First, we’ll shake up all the boxes to make it fair."

The Elves handling the boxes dutifully shook them, then uncovered them. At a nod from Glorfindel, Della and Holly pulled out slips of paper and handed them to him. He took a moment to glance at the names, then called out. "Michelle Henderson."

Michelle jumped up, looking both excited and embarrassed at being the first to be called. Glorfindel gave her a warm smile. "Congratulations. You are now ‘Finduilas."

Everyone clapped and cheered as Michelle thanked Glorfindel and made her way to where Misty was sitting even as Roy and Dan pulled out slips from the men’s boxes, handing them to Glorfindel. "Jason Long."

Alex saw a young man of oriental extraction rise from his seat and move towards Glorfindel who smiled at him as he handed him the slips of paper. "Congratulations, Jason. You are now Damrod."

Jason grinned as he took the slips and headed to Daeron even as Della and Holly were handing Glorfindel the next set of names....

****

The lottery had been going on for nearly an hour and neither Alex nor Derek had been called as yet. All around them, those who’d been called were quietly mouthing their new names and showing the name to their friends. Lucy Barton had gotten Lindessë and Jack Whitman, another friend of theirs, was now Ragnor. Alex was not paying much attention to any of it, his mind on other matters, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with Glorfindel, Amroth and Vorondur on Monday. So many questions had been left unanswered, leaving him feeling frustrated and no longer in control. He kept thinking of Bregdal, wondering what it had to have been like to lie in a dungeon, knowing your days were numbered, watching as your companions were being murdered one-by-one.

So lost in his thoughts he was that he almost missed hearing his name being called. He fairly leapt from his chair, causing some tittering among the other students. He tried not to blush as he walked towards Glorfindel, whose expression seemed troubled as he stood there staring at the slips of paper. When Alex reached him, he looked up. "Congratulations, Alex. Your new name is... um... Elurín." Alex was surprised to hear all the Elves gasp at that announcement and he gave Glorfindel a puzzled look as he accepted the slips of paper. Glorfindel leaned over to whisper in his ear. "I’ll explain later," was all he said.

Alex nodded, acutely aware that the rest of the room had gone a bit quiet, as if the students sensed something wasn’t quite right without understanding what it was. Alex plastered a smile on his face, pretending to be looking at the name on the slip. "Oh, good," he said in a loud voice, turning to face the crowd, waving the slips. "So that means if my roommate Derek gets Eluréd we can be twins and only our naneth will be able to tell us apart."

Everyone started laughing and applauding, the people at the table where Derek was sitting joking with him, causing the young man to turn red in embarrassment. Alex turned around to look at Glorfindel who nodded his approval, gesturing for him to go to Daeron while Della and Holly handed him the next set of slips.

Derek eventually was called and received the name Celepharn and after two more names were called, the lottery ended and everyone started milling around, introducing themselves to their friends amidst much laughter. Alex excused himself to Derek and their friends, feigning a need to use the men’s room but taking a detour to where all the Elves were huddled together. As he neared them, he could hear the Sindarin flowing fast and furious between them, catching only a word or two....

****

"Who put that name in the box?" Glorfindel demanded, giving the other Elves a piercing look.

"None of us," Daeron assured him. "Why would we?"

"Well someone did," Glorfindel retorted, glowering at them. "And it just so happens that Alex is the one to receive it? That’s not coincidental." He stopped as he saw Elladan’s eyes widening, giving him a silent warning, and turned to see Alex making a beeline to them.

"All right," the agent said, "just what the hell is going on and why is everyone upset because I got this name?" He waved the slip of paper at them.

"Do you know who Elurín is?" Glorfindel asked.

"Sure, the twin brother of Eluréd, sons of Dior. Apparently died or disappeared or something when Doriath fell. And so? What’s the big deal?"

"The big deal, Alex, is that that name should not have been in the box," Glorfindel retorted. "There are a handful of names that are reserved, not to be used."

"Why?" Alex asked, giving them a puzzled look.

"Because the names are associated with great misfortune," Daeron replied. "That’s why you’ll not find anyone running around with the name Fëanor or those of his sons. Eluréd and Elurín were just children who died in horrible circumstances and Glorfindel felt that having their names used by unsuspecting or uncaring Mortals would be dishonoring them."

"I’m not sure I agree with that assessment of us Mortals," Alex said with a frown. "We’ve learned their history. I would think most of us would treat the names with respect."

"Perhaps," Glorfindel said, "but it was my decision not to include their names for reasons of my own. Yet, the question remains: how did that name get in the box? And why that name and not Eluréd’s?"

"Well, I promise you, none of us put the name in," Daeron insisted and everyone else nodded.

"Elurín means ‘Remembrance of Elu’," Vorondur said. "I think this is someone’s not too subtle message confirming Alex’s bloodline."

Glorfindel frowned. "By ‘someone’ you mean the Valar."

"More like someone a little closer to home," Vorondur said with a grim smile. "I have a certain Maia in mind."

"Fionwë," Glorfindel said between gritted teeth.

Alex startled at the sound of gentle laughter ringing through his mind, his eyes widening, feeling the blood drain from his head and nearly reeling from the shock. Barahir, standing next to him, grabbed him by the arm to steady him.

"Alex, stay calm," he said softly. "There’s nothing to fear."

The air became redolent with the scent of apples and mint and then slowly someone appeared in their midst. Alex felt his eyes bugging out and his heart racing as someone more beautiful than any of the Elves materialized before him. His golden-red hair was long and intricately braided and he wore a blue surcoat with an eagle embroidered on it.

"Be at peace, my children," the apparition said, his voice sounding of bells. "None can see or hear me but you. Greetings, Alex Grant, I am Fionwë of the People of Manwë."

Alex could only stand there and stare, gaping, trying to breathe, wondering if he was hallucinating or even dreaming. As if Fionwë could read his mind, the Maia smiled. "I am no hallucination or dream, child. I am a Maia."

"You... you’re an angel?" Alex managed to say at last.

"Something like that," Fionwë replied. "Fear not, child. All is well. Gilvegil, perhaps something to drink for our young friend."

Gil nodded and left to go to the dessert table. Fionwë, meanwhile, was addressing Glorfindel. "I put the name in the box and made sure it was Alex who received it and for the reason suspected. You’ve all been wondering about Alex’s heritage and why he’s having these memory flashes. Well, as to that, Vorondur was also correct in believing that when Alex died, certain barriers were eroded. I can assure you that it was not planned. The Valar were as mystified by it as you but apparently my Lord Manwë consulted with Eru and was assured that all was as Eru willed. On Lord Manwë’s orders, I planted the name for Alex to receive."

By now, Gil had returned with a glass of punch and Alex gratefully drank it, its sweetness steadying him. "So does that mean I really am descended from Beren?" he asked.

"Yes," Fionwë replied with a smile. "You are descended from Beren through Elwing’s son, Elros, and thus, you and Elrohir and Elladan are cousins, very distant cousins, it is true, but the blood of Beren, Lúthien and ultimately of Elu and Melian flows in your veins, however diluted it may be. The Elvish and Maiarin strains are what has allowed you to tap into the racial memories of the Edain."

"So... what does that make me, besides very confused?" Alex asked.

"It makes you no more special than the thousands of other Mortals who could claim kinship to Beren and Lúthien if they only knew. The real difference is that you do know and there is a reason for you being here, you and not someone else. Now, I must go. Do not be dismayed, my children, at what is happening or will happen. All is in Eru’s loving hands and we are but His servants." He gave them a bow, fading from their sight.

For a long moment, no one spoke. Alex felt weak in the knees and wished for a chair to sit in before he collapsed completely. Barry continued holding him up. "Steady on, Alex," he said. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That’s it. Keep breathing."

"Well, that certainly makes things more interesting," Elrohir said.

"To say the least," Glorfindel retorted with a snort of disgust. "All right. Let’s get this party over with. Alex, are you going to be okay? I’ll have Barry see you to your room. Or would you rather come home with us?"

"No, I’m okay," Alex said, taking a deep breath. "I... I really need to be alone right now, think things through and I still feel uneasy about leaving Derek alone."

"Fine. You go on with Barry and I’ll find Derek and tell him you weren’t feeling too well and decided to go to bed early. We’ll talk some more about this tomorrow, or no, we’ll have to wait until Sunday. Can you manage until then? You can always call any of us in the meantime if you need to talk."

"No problem, and thanks. I’ll see you later, okay?"

The Elves all nodded and Barry, still holding on to him, led him away. They walked in silence until they reached Alex’s room. Barry saw him inside and then bid him good night. For a long moment, Alex just stood there in the middle of the room trying to grasp what had happened but his mind kept shying away from it and finally he decided to just go to bed. Out of habit, he opened his laptop to check his messages. There was only one. Opening it, he saw it was from Farrell. There was only a single line:

"No more games. Meet me at the Gold Nugget Café tomorrow 9 a.m. Don’t be late."

Alex muttered an oath as he shut the computer down. Well, no sense wondering what Farrell was up to now, so he put it out of his mind and got ready for bed. Derek came in just as he was about to turn off the light, asking how he was feeling.

"A little out of it," Alex answered truthfully.

"Maybe a good night’s sleep will help," Derek offered as he got himself ready for bed. Alex grunted in agreement and ten minutes later the lights were out, but it was a long time before he finally fell asleep.

27: Café Encounters of the Strange Kind

Derek was still sleeping when Alex woke around eight, cursing at the lateness of the hour. He grabbed a quick shower and headed into town, figuring he’d get some breakfast at the café. He resented Farrell’s high-handedness in summoning him, as if he were some truant kid called into the principal’s office. He had seriously thought to call Glorfindel and ask for back up, but decided at the end that he didn’t need it. Or rather, he didn’t want to tip his hand to Farrell. The Elves were Alex’s ace in the hole. He grinned at that thought as he searched for a parking space, finding one in the public parking lot. He reached the Gold Nugget Café and Emporium with maybe ten minutes to spare, and in spite of the early hour, the place was bustling with business.

"I’m expecting a friend," Alex told the waitress who greeted him. "We planned to meet at nine, so he should be here pretty soon."

"All I have left is that corner booth," she said, pointing to the farthest corner.

"That will be fine," Alex said. "I’ll order for myself." He took a quick look at the blackboard on which were scrawled the day’s specials. "I’ll have the number three with coffee and grapefruit juice."

"I’ll bring the coffee and juice right over," the waitress said as Alex made his way past other tables to the booth, sitting so he was facing the front. He’d just removed his jacket and was settling down when Farrell showed up. Raising his hand to get the man’s attention, he smiled at the scowl Farrell gave him. Apparently the man had hoped to be there first just so he could castigate Alex for being late.

Farrell came over and removed his own coat and hat, placing them beside him as he sidled into the booth. "I’ve already ordered," Alex said, "but the waitress will be back with my coffee in a moment."

"We’re not here for a breakfast out with friends," Farrell said in a harsh whisper.

Alex shrugged. "It would look odd not ordering anything, and I missed breakfast at the college. Ah... thank you." He smiled at the waitress who had brought over his coffee and glass of juice.

"What can I get you?" she asked Farrell.

"Just coffee for now, thanks," he replied with a smile that never reached his eyes and she sauntered off. He turned back to Alex, the smile fading. "I meant what I said in my email: no more games. You are playing with fire here, boy, and I don’t appreciate it."

"First of all, I’m not your boy, and second of all, you don’t call the shots," Alex retorted, keeping his voice low and even, as if he were discussing the latest stock market report or the weather. "I’m the agent in the field. You have no control over me."

"Your controllers back east think otherwise."

"My controllers are delusional. I was given a specific assignment and I’m fulfilling it even now. You insisting on barging in is putting me at risk and I resent the hell out of it."

"Elwood needs to be taken out," Farrell said. "He..."

"Here you are," the waitress said, plunking down the coffee mug in front of Farrell. "Your breakfast will be out in a jiffy," she said to Alex.

"Great. Thanks, Esther," he replied with a warm smile, reading the name off the name tag pinned to her uniform. "And could I get extra syrup with that?"

"Sure, honey, no problem," Esther said, turning to Farrell. "Sure you don’t want anything else? I can recommend the frittata."

"No, thanks," Farrell said and Alex was amused to see the man gritting his teeth.

"Suit yourself," Esther said as she went to another table to check on how the patrons there were doing.

"Relax, Farrell," Alex said with a smile. "You’re blowing your cover."

Farrell’s answer was a growled curse. "Elwood needs to be taken out," he repeated. "The D.D. gave the order."

"Not to me, she didn’t," Alex shot back, "and until I hear from her directly, my original orders stand: to assess the situation, find out what Ambrose is up to and then report back. I may indeed have to take him out, but not on your say-so. As it is, I’m not entirely convinced that Ryan McKinley really is Ambrose." Let Farrell chew on that.

Farrell gave him a disbelieving look. "You spent three days over the weekend with him at that mansion where he lives," he said. "You should have come to some conclusions by now."

Alex forced himself to stillness. "Keeping tabs on me, are you?" he asked nonchalantly, all the while wondering just who Farrell had keeping a watch on him.

"You almost got yourself killed with that stupid stunt of yours," Farrell said with a snarl. "I was... concerned." He flashed him a cold smile.

"Stupid stunt? I was saving a little kid from drowning." Alex said with a snort of disgust.

"And thereby blowing your cover."

"My cover wasn’t blown and I..."

Esther showed up with Alex’s breakfast and the two men remained silent while she placed the plate of pancakes and sausages before him. "Anything else?" she asked. "More coffee?"

"Please," Alex said but Farrell just shook his head, clearly frustrated at the interruptions.

Esther gave them a shrewd look. "I’ll bring over a thermos. Then you can help yourself." She left and for a few minutes Alex busied himself with eating, ignoring Farrell glaring at him. Esther returned with a thermos. "Holler if you need anything," she said, then walked away. Alex continued eating but picked up the conversation where they had left it.

"As far as everyone is concerned, I’m a hero trying to rescue the kid."

"Why were you invited to spend the weekend at the mansion?"

"I was released from the hospital when I was because Loren DelaFiore promised that I would not be left alone, since my roommate would be gone for the weekend. If it hadn’t been for my near drowning, I would’ve been on that camping trip as well. So it really worked out for the best because I was able to get inside the mansion legitimately."

"And Elwood never suspected who you really were?" Farrell asked, looking less than convinced.

"McKinley gave no indication," Alex said with a nonchalant shrug, stressing the surname. The lie came easily to him, for he was an expert at lying, but he hid a smile behind his coffee mug thinking that in one sense he was telling the truth: at that time, neither Ambrose nor anyone else knew the truth about who he really was, a descendant of Beren and Lúthien, as well as Tuor and Idril through Elros. Not that Farrell would understand or care about the significance of it all, but it still amused Alex to be able to speak the truth and lie at the same time.

"So, why didn’t you take him out when you had him right there?" Farrell demanded. "Why continue with this charade of being an eager student learning to be an elf of all things."

"There are worse occupations," Alex said with a smile, "and I told you I’m not entirely sure if McKinley is Ambrose." Then he sat back, giving Farrell a shrewd look. "Have you ever had to take one of our people out?"

"No," Farrell replied.

"Well, I have, twice and one was a friend." He smiled grimly at Farrell’s unbelieving look. "You can check my file, if you don’t believe me. Two years ago, that business in Santiago? Who do you think took Rodriguez out?"

"Rodriguez was slime," Farrell admitted grudgingly.

Alex nodded. "Undoubtedly. He was a rabid dog that needed to be put down and the Agency sent me to do it. And then there was Brussels."

"That was you?" Farrell asked in genuine surprise.

"Yes, and Jackson was a friend of mine. We trained together. But it seemed he was sleeping with everyone but the Chinese and selling everyone’s secrets to everyone else. He wasn’t just a leak, he was a damn sieve and he needed to be plugged. Permanantly."

"So you really took him out?"

"Only because he was doing his level best to push me out of the plane at thirty thousand feet when I was bringing him back to stand trial." Alex replied with grim amusement. "We never recovered his body; the Atlantic is too big for that." Then he allowed his expression to darken and as he leaned over his voice became cold as ice as he whispered, "So you see, Farrell, I’ve been playing in the big leagues for quite some time now and I know the score, perhaps better than you, certainly better than those damn pencil pushers in D.C. who think they control me. They don’t, and neither do you. In the field, I’m God, and don’t ever make the mistake of thinking otherwise."

He went back to his pancakes and sausages, finishing the plate, ignoring the other agent sitting across from him. He pushed the plate away, taking a long drink of his juice. Esther came by to clear the table, asking if they wanted anything more.

"At the moment, we’re good. Thanks, Esther," Alex said with a ready smile. Esther just nodded and left them alone again.

"What have you learned?" Farrell asked.

"Only that the Academy is legit and McKinley teaches budding Elf Guides how to protect themselves from predators of the two-legged variety and helping out on occasion with the camping expeditions. I think he also teaches one of the wilderness survival courses." Alex shrugged, pretending indifference. "Other than that and the fact that he married his high school sweetheart, nothing much." And even as he said it, he wondered if Amroth had ever been to high school.

"He’s married?" Farrell asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Hmm... that presents some interesting possibilities."

Alex felt his blood turn to ice at Farrell’s implications. "Back off, Farrell. If McKinley is Ambrose then he may be fair game, but everyone else is off limits. We don’t involve innocents in this, and his wife has given no indication that she’s aware of anything out of the ordinary about her husband."

"Even so...."

"Even so, she’s still off limits," Alex hissed, letting his anger show. "I’ve been very careful to keep collateral damage to zero whenever I’ve been in the field. I won’t have you messing up my record with your half-baked schemes. You leave McKinley to me and keep everyone else out, or so help me..."

"Don’t threaten me, boy!" Farrell snarled.

"Just remember this, Farrell," Alex said with cold equanimity, "the last thing I want to do is hurt you... but it's still on my list."

Farrell sat there for a long moment and when Alex refused to blink or look away, he snarled. "If McKinley is Elwood, he is to be eliminated by Thanksgiving, which is when your classes end, from what I understand. If he’s not dead by then, I’ll take him out myself, and you along with him, and I don’t give a damn who else gets caught in the crossfire. In the meantime, we need more intelligence. For some reason we can’t get a fix on anything that’s said inside the mansion or the Academy. It’s like there’s a force-field or something blocking our reception and the one attempt to grab the guy failed, though I don’t know why."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "When did you try to grab him?"

"While you were lying in a hospital bed hovering between life and death," Farrell replied with a smirk. "Only thing, when we went to make the grab, he eluded us somehow. Man’s as slippery as an eel."

Alex gave him a grim smile. "Maybe he was just lucky," he said. "I don’t appreciate you interfering with my assignment, Farrell. I’m not sure what bug got up Maddy’s nose to send you to make my life miserable, but I’m telling you what I told her: back off and let me do my job."

"Just so long as you do it," Farrell shot back. "Anyway, Elwood is only part of the problem. We need to find out about the people running this Academy. Something doesn’t add up about them. There are too many unanswered questions where they’re concerned. Most don’t even seem to have proper records of births and marriage and the like."

"I’m still looking into that as well," Alex told him. "If I find anything incriminating I’ll let you know, but so far I’ve come up with a big fat zero. These people are a little strange but they’re harmless enough. I wouldn’t worry too much about them."

"Your problem, kid, is that you don’t worry enough," Farrell said with a sneer, grabbing his hat and coat and standing up. "Keep in touch and send me real reports from now on. I’ll let you get my coffee." Without giving Alex a chance to respond, he walked away.

Esther came over, giving him a shrewd look. "Your friend doesn’t seem to be very happy," she said.

Alex gave her a grin. "He’s a Type A personality. He’s never happy unless he’s unhappy."

Esther sniggered at that. "You need anything else?"

Alex started to shake his head, but then realized he was still feeling hungry in spite of the pancakes. "You have anything sweet?"

"There’s a peach pie that just came out of the oven," she replied.

"I’ll have a slice of that then and the check."

"I’ll be right back with both."

Left alone, Alex poured himself another cup of coffee, thinking back over the conversation with Farrell. He and Amroth really needed to get Farrell out of the picture and all the other agents as well. Somehow they needed to discover who else was there. It was the not knowing that left Alex feeling cold. He didn’t like Farrell’s attitude. Too many innocent people could get hurt and Alex would blame himself if they did. Of course, he could well be dead and beyond blame, but it didn’t matter. If Farrell made a move and others got hurt, Alex would never be able to forgive himself.

Esther showed up with the pie and the check. "Enjoy!"

"Thanks, Esther," he said, but he did not immediately dig into the pie, still pondering over his options. Not coming up with any ideas immediately, he sighed and shook his head, picking up his fork. He only managed a bite or two before someone slid into the booth opposite him. He looked up with a frown to find a complete stranger sitting there. He had dark hair and wore a red and black plaid shirt and a black baseball cap with a skull and crossbones emblem embroidered on it.

"Hello, Alex. I’m glad to see you’re looking more... um... alive," the stranger said, giving him a wide grin.

"Do I know you?" Alex demanded with a frown, mentally cataloguing the many ways he could take the man out if necessary without anyone else in the café being the wiser.

"You can call me Nate," the stranger said, "though, Glorfindel knows me by another name."

Alex felt his eyebrows leaving his forehead. "Glor... wait! You... you were there... when I... when I died."

Námo’s grin widened. "Ah... you remember," sounding very pleased for some reason.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Alex demanded, staring in horror at the pie before him, wondering if Farrell had somehow managed to poison him or something. He didn’t feel as if he were about to die, though.

"Don’t worry," Námo said soothingly, "the pie’s not poisoned. I’m not here because you’re about to keel over from an excess of carbohydrates. We decided to introduce ourselves to you."

"We?" Alex asked, feeling suddenly faint. He’d managed to push his meeting with Fionwë out of his mind while confronting Farrell, but now the memory of what happened the night before came rushing back and he glanced nervously around, as if half-expecting to see Maiar popping up all over the place.

Námo laughed, obviously amused by Alex’s reaction. "We, as in me and one other." He raised his hand, giving it a wave without even looking around and to Alex’s complete surprise, Esther came over, giving them a warm smile.

"Hello, Artemus. I’m Estë."

"Oh, sorry. I thought your name tag said ‘Esther’," he muttered apologetically, feeling too stunned to say anything more coherent.

Both Valar laughed. "It does, child," Estë said. "But it’s no more my real name than Alex is yours."

Alex looked at Námo. "So you’re not really Nate."

The Lord of Mandos shook his head. "My name is Námo."

Alex swallowed nervously, calling to mind what he’d learned about these two in the history class. He felt himself blushing at the thought of how he’d been so sure these people didn’t exist. As if reading his thoughts, Námo gave him a bright smile. "We do not blame you, child, for not believing in us, but now that you know that there are such things as Elves, and you’ve met Fionwë, we felt it time to show ourselves to you as well."

"Why?"

"To let you know that you’re not alone," Estë answered. "You’re very important to our plans, Artemus. We just wanted you to know that."

"Why, though?" Alex insisted, glancing between the two Valar. "I don’t understand."

"I told you when we first met that you were on a cusp," Námo said, his mien becoming more sober, "that you could go either way and that still holds true even now."

"So you showing yourselves to me is supposed to make me go in the direction you want me to?"

"No, Artemus," Estë assured him. "We are not here to manipulate you. What you ultimately decide is your choice, not ours, but we felt you needed to know who all the players were before you made a decision that will affect the lives of many, not just you and Amroth. What happens in the next few weeks will have a major impact on the future, on all our futures."

"Gee, thanks. That really makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside," Alex retorted with heavy sarcasm.

The Valar ignored it. "When you speak with Glorfindel again," Námo said, "ask him what Elf Academy is really all about."

"And you’re not going to tell me?" Alex asked.

"No, child. That task we leave to others," Námo said. "Now, finish your pie before it goes cold." And with that, he simply wasn’t there. Alex gripped the edge of the table, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and jerked when Estë laid a hand on his head, stroking his hair.

"It’s all right, child," she said soothingly. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That’s it. All is well. Now, I wouldn’t worry too much about us at the moment. It’s enough that you know that we truly do exist and that we have nothing but your best interest at heart, yours and everyone else’s. Take comfort in that. Now, finish the pie. I didn’t slave over it for all of five seconds just for you to turn your nose up at it."

Alex raised an eyebrow at that, but the innocent looking smile that the Valië gave him was too much and he burst out laughing, suddenly feeling less frightened. "Yes, ma’am," he said, picking up his fork. He took another bite, surprised to find the pie was as warm as when he’d first tasted it and grinned at Estë who winked and sauntered off, somehow fading out of reality without anyone else noticing.

Ten minutes later, Alex paid the check and left the café. His first thought was to hunt down Glorfindel, but he knew the Elf was teaching and would not be available for another couple of hours. Standing outside, huddling against the cold wind that had picked up, he hesitated for a minute before pulling out his cell phone and speed dialing a certain number even as he headed for his car.

"McKinley," he heard Amroth say after two rings.

"It’s Alex. We need to talk. Now. Where are you?"

There was a slight hesitation before the Elf answered. "I’m at the Academy but I can meet you at Edhellond in fifteen minutes. Where are you?"

"I’m in town, myself. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes." He closed down the cell phone and climbed into his car. "Now to get some real answers," he said to himself as he turned the key and pulled out of the parking space.

28: Confrontation

By the time Alex reached Edhellond, he was both furious and frightened. Too much was happening to him that he didn’t fully understand and he was trying desperately to hold on to his sanity. Only his training kept him in check as he coldly analyzed the situation and not liking the blanks that kept coming up. It was time to fill them in.

He slammed the door of his car as he got out and practically ran up to the front door, pressing the bell and pounding on the door at the same time. It opened almost immediately and Amroth was there. Before the Elf had time to greet him, Alex kicked the door out of Amroth’s grasp, grabbed him by his shirt and body-slammed him into the wall on his right.

"What the hell is going on? What are you people up to?" he nearly screamed, slamming Amroth into the wall a second time, refusing to let him go. The Elf winced as the back of his head met the cherry wood paneling.

"Calm down, Artemus...." Amroth started to say, but Alex slammed him into the wall again.

"Don’t call me that, damn you!"

"Alex."

Alex turned to see Vorondur standing there with Serindë at his side, her eyes wide with shock. He snarled, almost as if he were some predator warning others away from his prey. It was just enough of a distraction, though, that the next thing he knew, Amroth was slipping out of his grasp and twisting his arms behind him, holding him in a deadlock grip. Alex struggled, cursing in several different languages, casting aspersions on Amroth’s ancestry and sexual habits. Amroth tightened his grip, nearly choking Alex into submission.

"There’s a lady present," the Elf said quietly. "Behave yourself."

"Go to hell!" Alex retorted, still too angry to care, still fighting against Amroth’s hold on him.

"Let’s take this to the library," Vorondur said with grave authority. "Serindë, go make us some of Mithrellas’ special tea, you know the one. It’s all right, child, off you go. Amroth and I can handle one incensed Mortal between us."

Serindë looked troubled but did as her father bid even as Amroth frog-marched Alex to the library with Vorondur trailing. By the time they got there Alex was beginning to hyperventilate, his breathing shallow and rapid and he felt himself blacking out from lack of oxygen as Amroth continued to hold him in his grip, his arm tight across his throat. Amroth suddenly released him and he fell gasping to his knees. It took a few minutes of deep breathing before the black spots in front of his eyes faded. When he looked up he saw Amroth and Vorondur standing over him. Vorondur’s expression was dispassionate, his eyes giving nothing away, but Amroth’s eyes were full of disapproval and that cut him to the quick and he felt himself blushing.

"Do you want to explain yourself, Meriwether?" Amroth asked and Alex felt himself shivering at the absolute coldness of the Elf’s tone, then found he couldn’t stop shivering for some reason. His stomach began to protest and he felt suddenly ill. The Elves must have recognized the signs because with a curse Amroth hauled him to his feet and they made a quick exit from the library, down the hall to the lavatory.

"Don’t you dare be sick until I tell you to," Amroth ordered and if he weren’t feeling so lousy Alex would’ve laughed at that, but all he did was moan as he tried to control the heaving. Amroth pushed open the lavatory door and knocked Alex to his knees before the toilet just in time and then Alex gave himself up to misery as he lost his breakfast and half his insides. How long it lasted, he never knew. A time came when the heaving slowed and he was gagging less. A cold cloth was pressed against his neck and that seemed to help. Finally, when he felt it was all over he struggled to his feet as Amroth reached down to give him a hand.

"Rinse your mouth," he said as he flushed the toilet, keeping a hand on Alex’s elbow to help steady him. Alex turned on the cold tap and rinsed his mouth and threw water on his face, surprised to find it feeling slick with sweat. Amroth handed him a towel and then they were making their way back to the library. Alex sank gratefully into an easy chair beside the fire and closed his eyes. His stomach muscles hurt and his throat felt bruised. He kept floating in and out of consciousness and only vaguely was aware of someone throwing a blanket over him, laying a cool hand on his head and then he slipped totally into darkness with a sigh of relief.

****

He came to slowly, feeling stiff, as if he’d been sleeping in one position for too long. He groaned involuntarily as muscles protested and he blinked open his eyes to find Amroth and Vorondur sitting quietly on either side of him. And standing before him was Glorfindel, gazing down at him gravely.

"How are you feeling?" the Elf-lord asked him quietly.

"Not sure," Alex mumbled, still feeling woozy.

Vorondur held out a mug of something steaming. "Drink some of this, it should help."

Alex took the mug, surprised to find his hand shaking and had to hold it with both hands. After taking a couple of sips, though, the shaking subsided and his head cleared. "How long have I been out?" he asked.

"About two hours," Glorfindel replied. "I just got back myself." He moved away to take a seat on the hearth. "So whenever you’re ready, perhaps you can explain why you came barging in here the way you did."

"Sorry," Alex said, turning to Amroth. "I guess I lost it. God! The last time I was that angry a lot of people died." He closed his eyes, leaning back into the chair.

"What happened?" Amroth asked.

"Farrell," Alex replied without opening his eyes. "We met at the café in town." He opened his eyes and gave Amroth a shrewd look. "He said he tried to grab you while I was in the hospital. You were going to tell me about it when?"

"It’s not important," Amroth said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Damn you, Ambrose," Alex exclaimed. "You let me decide what is and what isn’t important. In case it hasn’t sunk in yet, I was sent to take you out and if I don’t, Farrell certainly will. I can’t protect you if I don’t have all the information."

"I don’t need your protection, child," Amroth said coldly.

"You damn well do," Alex shouted. "You think because you’re an Elf that you’re invincible? You can die as easily as the rest of us, so don’t give me that nonsense."

Before Amroth could respond, Vorondur spoke. "Something happened, though, besides Farrell. You wouldn’t have been as upset as you were just because of Farrell. What happened, Alex? I saw the fear as well as the anger in your eyes. What happened?"

Alex felt himself grow faint and he found himself breathing heavily. Vorondur reached out and placed a hand on his forehead and spoke in a language Alex didn’t understand, but the rolling cadence seemed to calm him and he found he could breathe properly again. "Drink some more of the tea," Vorondur said and Alex complied, ignoring the concerned looks that passed between the three Elves as he drank. He emptied the mug and placed it on the table. Vorondur filled it with more tea but did not urge him to drink. Alex gazed at Glorfindel.

"Farrell wasn’t the only person I met at the café," he said. "I had a nice conversation with some dude calling himself Nate and a waitress named Esther, though those weren’t their real names."

He watched with faint amusement at the way all three Elves went suddenly still. Glorfindel was the first to break the silence that hung between them. "You met Nate and Esther?" His voice sounded somewhat strained to Alex’s ears.

"Didn’t I just say that?" Alex couldn’t help being sarcastic, secretly enjoying the nonplused looks on the Elves’ faces. "Of course, those aren’t their real names, are they?"

"You spoke to Lord Námo and Lady Estë," Glorfindel said.

"Yes, those were the names they gave me," Alex nodded in agreement.

"Was there a reason for their showing themselves to you?" Amroth asked.

Alex shrugged. "Mainly they wanted to assure me that there were such beings as Valar and to let me know that I was important to their plans, whatever they are. That Námo dude told me to ask you what Elf Academy is really all about."

Glorfindel actually cringed. "I would be careful how I refer to any of the Valar," he admonished Alex quietly. "They are a touchy lot at best and it’s wise to be respectful."

"Somehow I can’t get all respectful over a waitress wearing gingham and some dude in plaid wearing a baseball cap with a skull and crossbones on it," Alex retorted with a wry smile. "Not my idea of how angels are supposed to look."

"Trust me when I say that if they had appeared to you in their actual forms instead of taking on those disguises, neither you nor any other Mortal in that café would have survived the experience."

"Whatever," Alex said, shrugging again. He turned to Amroth. "And when were you going to tell me about Farrell? He told me he tried to take you last week. Called you a slippery eel." He smiled thinly. "I think that’s an insult to eels, myself."

Amroth raised an eyebrow at that but Alex did not back down, giving the Elf stare for stare. It was finally Amroth who sighed, shaking his head. "Sarcasm doesn’t suit you and your anger is misplaced."

"Excuse me?" Alex exclaimed, standing to glare down at his mentor. "Don’t you dare treat me like this, Ambrose. I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears trainee without a clue."

"I’ll treat you as I see fit, child," Amroth retorted coldly.

"No," Alex shot back. "You gave up that right the day you faked your death and betrayed my trust. Frankly, at this point, I’m about ready to take you out and to hell with it, and you. This whole thing is getting too damn freaky for my taste." He threw up his hands, as if in surrender. "God! Give me a group of rabid terrorists any day of the week over you people."

"Alex, calm down," Glorfindel said, raising his hands in a placating manner. "Amroth is correct that your anger is misplaced, and I suspect it isn’t Farrell or Amroth that has you so upset but having met Fionwë last night and then the Valar this morning. It’s enough to unnerve anyone who isn’t used to them."

Alex sat back down in his chair, feeling suddenly weak-kneed. "He was sitting there across from me and then he... he just disappeared and Esther... she walked away and faded out of sight and no one even noticed."

Glorfindel gave him a mirthless grin. "A nasty habit of which we have so far been unable to break them. The Valar, as the High King once told me, are like children poking a stick into an ant hill just to see the ants scurry around. Give them a reason to see you scurry even more and they will take it with all the manic glee of a twelve-year-old." His grin became wider at Alex’s disbelieving look. "We amuse them, you see. We’re their favorite pastime when they're not off somewhere keeping the universe from breaking down or something."

"It sounds as if you have a more than passing acquaintance with these... um... people."

"Oh, you have no idea," Glorfindel averred. "They can be rather high-handed and sanctimonious and there have been times when I wished they would take a flying leap off the edge of the universe, but unfortunately, we’re forced to put up with them and their antics."

"Now who’s being disrespectful?" Amroth said with a knowing smile.

"Ah, but there are always exceptions to the rule," Glorfindel retorted with a sniff, "and where the Valar are concerned, I’m definitely an exception."

"Unfortunately."

Alex didn’t even think about it. The voice had come from behind him and in a single fluid motion he was out of the chair and reaching around him to grab whoever was standing there, dragging the person across the back of the chair and onto the floor in front of Glorfindel, one knee on his victim’s chest and his right arm already pulled back to deliver a punch. Glorfindel reached out and grabbed Alex’s arm. Alex just stared at him, amazed at the strength it must take to hold him in place and the Elf didn’t even look as if he were straining. Glorfindel ignored him, however, giving Amroth an amused look.

"Nice reflexes," he said conversationally.

Alex turned his head to see Amroth shrug. "He’s been well taught."

Glorfindel nodded, then stared down at the person lying on the floor while still holding Alex’s arm immobile. "Hello, Fionwë. Nice of you to drop in... unannounced and uninvited."

Alex glanced down, for the first time realizing just who he’d been manhandling and relaxed his grip on the Maia’s surcoat. Glorfindel let go of his arm and Alex rose to his feet, still staring at the Maia, not entirely sure what was about to happen next. He had a sense that attacking Maiar was not conducive to one’s overall health.

"Alex," Vorondur said gently, "come over here and sit down."

Alex looked up and saw the Elf patting the arm of the chair that he’d just vacated and stumbled over to him. In the meantime, Fionwë was climbing to his feet, adjusting his surcoat and giving them an amused look.

"My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you," he said to Alex, giving him a slight bow.

"I could’ve killed you," Alex whispered.

"Not likely, child," Fionwë said kindly. "I am not fully incarnate. There is nothing you can do to harm me."

Alex shook his head. "No. You don’t understand. I could have killed you."

Fionwë gave him a considering look and then nodded. "I see. You are concerned that you are losing control, that you may become a danger to others."

Alex nodded. "I could have killed you," he repeated tonelessly, almost as a mantra.

"Alex."

Alex turned to look at Vorondur. "You’ve had too many shocks this past week and I’m beginning to think it’s taking its toll on you. You haven’t had time to process everything, have you?"

Alex shook his head numbly. He startled when Fionwë reached out and placed a hand on his head, then felt himself relaxing, a sense of well-being flooding him and he let out a sigh, feeling all the tension slipping away. After a moment, Fionwë stepped back. "Feeling better?" he asked solicitously.

Alex nodded, not willing to speak just yet.

"Again, my apologies. I’m afraid I just couldn’t resist after Glorfindel made that rather outrageous statement." He gave the Elf a merry look and Glorfindel had the grace to blush. "Next time, I’ll remember to stand further away when I materialize." And with that, he simply faded away, the scent of apples and mint lingering in the air. Alex closed his eyes, then shook his head and opened them again, glaring at Glorfindel.

"Tell me what this is really all about," he demanded.

"Two years ago, Daeron came across a website advertising for people to apply to Elf Academy to become Elf Guides. We had all lost our jobs — Daeron, the Twins, Misty, Della and I — and we were looking for something to do. Daeron had the idea that we would come here, learn what we needed to learn and then afterwards we would go to Finland or some other place where Santa Claus supposedly set up shop and create our own Elf Academy for their tourist industry. Well, it turned out that the Valar had manipulated things to make sure we came here and then told us, or rather me, to take over the Academy, to use it and Wiseman as our base of operations."

"To do what?" Alex asked.

"To prepare for the Dagor Dagorath," Glorfindel replied.

"The Dagor... you mean, that Armagedon thing when Morgoth is supposed to come back?"

Glorfindel nodded. "We don’t know when it will happen. Not even the Valar know, but the signs are there for any with eyes to see. Whether it comes within your lifetime or centuries from now, the Valar have set us the task of training you Mortals for that day, teaching you the truth of things in preparation for the final battle. That is the real purpose, or rather the ultimate purpose of Elf Academy. At the moment, we actually do train people for the tourist industry, but along the way we... invite certain people to join us in preparing for what is to come."

"And where do I fit in?"" Alex asked.

"We don’t know yet," Glorfindel admitted. "That is something you have to decide for yourself."

For several minutes, Alex sat there, thinking about all that he had learned, the various pieces of the puzzle beginning to fall into place. The Elves sat there waiting silently for his response, and he suspected that they were hoping he would whole-heartedly join them, but he was not ready to take that particular leap. Instead, he turned to Amroth. "Tell me what happened last week when Farrell tried to take you."

"I wasn’t even aware of what was happening. You were still lying between life and death and we hadn’t driven out all of the darkness within you. We were taking turns keeping vigil since we had to continue teaching our classes. I was leaving the hospital when I felt a sense of unease and something warned me not to go to my car. I’ve lived too long not to heed such feelings. I grabbed a taxi and when I arrived at the Academy I gave my keys to Elladan. He and Elrohir drove me back to the hospital after the class, and we checked the car out thoroughly. There was a bomb underneath. It was connected to the ignition."

"Damn!" Alex exclaimed. "Farrell has me under surveillance. He knows I spent the weekend here. He was rather put out by the fact that I hadn’t taken the opportunity to take you out. I think I've convinced him that I'm not entirely sure that Ryan McKinley and Ambrose Elwood are one and the same person. He also complained about not being able to get a fix on anything that’s said inside the mansion or the Academy. He’s probably using a remote sensor. You may have noticed a telephone repair truck or something like in the vicinity. Apparently something is blocking transmission."

"Not our doing," Glorfindel assured him, "though I can guess that we’ve been under the watchful eyes of Fionwë and other Maiar running interference."

"So I figured," Alex said with a nod. "I’m sorry I lost control earlier. I’m beginning to jump at shadows and I can’t afford that. I need to be in better control of myself, but every time I turn around, something like this happens. I just can’t keep up."

"And I’m sorry we’ve put you in this position," Glorfindel said with remorse. "We had hoped to ease you into it along with the other students to whom we’ve decided to reveal ourselves. Derek is one such."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Did you know he kept dreaming of joining the Iditarod before he found out about this place and applied?"

"Ah... Lord Irmo up to his old tricks again," Glorfindel said with a smile that was echoed by Amroth and Vorondur. "You’d be surprised how many of your classmates have had similar dreams before coming here."

"So, what now?" Alex asked.

"That’s up to you," Glorfindel replied. "You know as much as we do about the situation. How you proceed from here is your call, but I... we hope you will see your way to join forces with us. As you keep saying, Farrell needs to be dealt with, he and the others, if we are to survive without interference from your government."

"And time is running out," Alex said soberly. He glanced at Amroth. "He gave me a deadline. If you’re not dead by Thanksgiving, he’ll see to it himself and he doesn’t care who else gets caught in the crossfire."

The three Elves gave him troubled looks. "What can he do?" Vorondur asked.

Alex shrugged. "Anything from a surgical strike to blowing up the Academy and everyone in it."

The Elves grimaced. "Then we must act soon," Glorfindel said grimly. "I will not risk the lives of innocents."

"I agree," Alex said, running his hands through his hair and sighing. "Look, I need a little time to get all this straight in my mind. This is way beyond my experience. Psychopathic terrorists I can deal with; Elves and angels and the end of the world are a different kettle of fish."

"And we appreciate that, more than you know," Glorfindel assured him.

"In the meantime, I’d best be getting back to the Academy. Derek is probably wondering where I’ve disappeared to and I still don’t feel comfortable about leaving him alone for any length of time," Alex admitted as he rose from his chair. "Don’t get up. I’ll see myself out."

29: Gambit

Alex spent the rest of the day in something of a haze, trying to get his mind around certain truths. Derek seemed to notice that he wasn’t quite present most of the time and when he asked him about it Sunday morning as they were getting dressed, Alex just said he wasn’t feeling too well.

"Probably coming down with a cold or something when I was out and about yesterday," he lied. "I’m just going to lie low and hope it goes away. I don’t want to miss out on the new classes."

"I can see if they’ll let me bring you something from the cafeteria," Derek offered. "Wouldn’t want you spreading your germs all over the place." He gave him a wide smile.

Alex smiled back. "You’re a good friend, Derek. I want you to know that."

Derek blushed. "Thanks. You’re not too shabby in the friendship department yourself. Sure you don’t want me to bring you something? It’s not a problem."

"I know, and I’m grateful for the offer, but you know what they say, misery loves company, so I think I will go with you to breakfast and share my misery with everyone else. Why should I have all the fun?"

Derek sniggered. "You are evil, you know that, don’t you?"

Alex laughed. "So I’ve been told a time or two." Of course, he reflected, the people calling him that, and worse, were usually the terrorist scum he’d ‘betrayed’ so it didn’t really count. "C’mon. Let’s go see what’s on the menu today."

****

After breakfast, while Derek went off with some of their friends, Alex returned to his room and turned on his laptop. He’d thought long and hard about what he could do to smoke out the other agents during the evening before and was ready to implement the plan. He accessed the email addresses of the other agents, the ones whom he was not supposed to contact, sending a single encrypted message to them all:

"Have positive proof that McKinley is Elwood. Have convinced him to come in from the cold. Will need help with the pick up. Arrange for transport to Anchorage. The Safeway parking lot 10:00 tomorrow night."

He pressed the ‘Send’ key and sat back. That was the easy part. Now to convince Amroth to play along. He suspected the Elf would be less than pleased by his actions, but Alex was convinced that they needed to move on this now rather than later. Thanksgiving was not that far away and he didn’t trust Farrell to hold to that deadline. He needed to know who else was in the Game before he could formulate any plans to neutralize them and keep Amroth and Elf Academy safe.

He paused in thought, frowning to himself. When had he joined the Elves and their mission? He had not committed himself to them when Glorfindel had revealed the truth of why they were there, yet some time in the night, his allegiance had shifted. He was not sure he liked that, but on the other hand, it felt good to be fighting on the side of the angels, literally. He smiled at that thought. Not that he didn’t believe in the rightness of what he did as an intelligence officer for the United States government. It was a necessary job and few civilians would ever appreciate just how necessary it was to help keep them safe and out of harm’s way. But now... now he had something far more important than the safety of the government to fight for; he had a whole world, a world where Elves and angels truly existed. His worldview had suddenly expanded and the possibilities it held were breathtaking.

"I guess Dante was right all along," he muttered to himself as he shut down the laptop and grabbed his coat and headed out to his car. He drove out of the campus and made his way to Edhellond. He rang the front doorbell and after a minute Serindë opened the door.

"Hi, I need to see...."

"Why are you here?" Serindë demanded angrily. "You’re not welcome here. Why don’t you go away and leave us alone you murdering...."

"Daughter."

Serindë stiffened, her expression becoming a mask as Vorondur came up behind her. "Á lelya ar hirë Laurefindil ar Eleroquen. Á tulya tú i-parmassenna."

Alex had no idea what the Elf had said, suspecting it was that other Elvish language of which he’d heard. Serindë scowled at him and strode away, leaving her father to face him. Alex gave him a chagrined look. "Sorry. I know I’m the last person any of you want to see right now...."

Vorondur waved a hand in dismissal, opening the door wider to let Alex in. "My daughter is still quite young and I’m afraid yesterday’s... um.... altercation upset her."

"You say that as if she were only twenty and not thousands of years old," Alex said.

Vorondur gave him a brittle smile. "For all that Serindë has witnessed several thousand years of human history, she is still somewhat naive about certain realities. But come. I suspect you are not here to discuss my daughter’s shortcomings."

"No. Actually I came to see Amroth," Alex said as the two made their way down the hall. "I’ve come up with a plan to flush out the other agents and I need his help to implement it."

"Unfortunately, Amroth isn’t here. He and Della went to Chandalar for the day."

"Damn! When will they be back? It’s really important I speak with him. I would’ve called, but I know I’m being watched and I suspect they can listen in on any phone conversations."

"Edhellond and the Academy are... blocked from any such invasions of privacy," Vorondur said as they entered the library. "Or at least, we are assuming that based on what Farrell told you."

"But I couldn’t be sure if that included me," Alex retorted. "That’s why I came here instead. The thing is, if I am being watched, then my coming here would make sense to my watchers."

"Why is that?"

Alex turned to see Glorfindel and Elrohir entering the room with Serindë trailing hesitantly behind. Before Alex could reply, Vorondur launched into a spate of Elvish that definitely was not Sindarin, though there were words that sounded somewhat similar to ones Alex knew. Whatever was being said caused Serindë to blush and Elrohir to frown. Glorfindel merely raised an eyebrow and when Vorondur finished speaking, he turned to Elrohir and said something softly in the same language. The Elf nodded and took Serindë’s arm, leading her out of the room. Alex couldn’t help noticing the look of hatred she cast his way.

Glorfindel turned back to Alex and Vorondur. "Hopefully Roy will set her straight," he commented to no one in particular. "So, what is this plan of yours, Alex? I’m all ears."

"If we’re to get Farrell and the Agency off our backs, we need to know who else is involved in this. We need faces and maybe even names. I was never happy about Maddy sending other agents out here. It’s never been done before and this isn’t the first time I’ve been ordered to either bring an agent in or eliminate him. I’ve never had back up, as it were, and I certainly never had someone like Farrell breathing down my neck, watching my every move."

"So what do you propose?" Vorondur asked.

"I sent an email to the other agents telling them that I’ve positively identified Ryan McKinley as Ambrose and that he has agreed to come in from the cold. There is to be a pick up at the Safeway tomorrow night at ten. The store will close by then so there won’t be anyone else around. They were to arrange for suitable transportation to Anchorage."

"And what do you hope to gain from this?" Glorfindel asked.

"I need Amroth to act as a decoy. Yes, I know it’s dangerous, but I’m hoping some of you will agree to be there as well, hidden but nearby in case something goes wrong. My plan is for you to photograph whoever approaches us."

"Yet, how do you intend to convince these people not to take you and Amroth when they are expecting you to cooperate?" Vorondur asked. "Assuming that they all show up, you will be outnumbered."

Alex had the grace to blush. "Uh... that’s the part I haven’t figured out yet."

Both Glorfindel and Vorondur smiled. Then, Glorfindel’s expression sobered. "I am not quite sure what you hope to accomplish. How many agents are we dealing with?"

"Eight," Alex answered, "and I didn’t send Farrell an email."

The Elves both raised eyebrows at that. "You’re assuming they will contact Farrell for confirmation?" Vorondur asked.

Alex nodded. "I’m betting on it."

"Won’t he be suspicious, though?" Glorfindel asked. "And beyond that, how do we prevent them from actually taking Amroth?"

"I... uh... was hoping you might come up with something," Alex admitted ruefully.

Glorfindel gave him a wry look. "We’re Elves, Alex, not miracle workers."

"You guys have had a gazillion years of experience," Alex retorted. "I just thought you might have an idea or two, is all."

"Well, none of us have lived that long," Glorfindel replied with a laugh. "We would have to look to the Valar and Maiar, for they existed before the universe was created."

"Could we... er... recruit them, do you think?" Alex asked with a thoughtful look.

Glorfindel shook his head. "Their orders are rather strict. I doubt we could get permission for them to help us and it’s been my experience that such things are best left to us to handle."

"It would’ve been better if you’d come to us first, Alex, before sending off those emails," Vorondur said not unkindly. "You’re putting us in an awkward and dangerous position."

"Sorry. I can contact them again and tell them it’s a no-go."

Glorfindel shook his head. "No, don’t do that. We have until tomorrow night to figure this out. I’ll let Amroth know when he returns. One of us will contact you tomorrow and let you know what we’ve decided."

"Sorry," Alex repeated. "I guess I got carried away."

"A common failing of the young," Glorfindel said with a fond smile. "It’ll be all right, Alex. We’ll work something out."

Alex nodded, turning to Vorondur. "Will you tell Serindë I’m sorry I upset her?"

Vorondur nodded. "I’ll tell her and thank you."

"I’ll just see myself out," Alex said.

****

Monday morning, as they trooped into the Sindarin class, Alex wondered if the Elves had come up with a plan and what Amroth must be thinking. When he saw Gil, he gave him an enquiring look, but the Elf merely shook his head. Alex stifled a sigh as he took his seat. The class seemed to go on forever and Alex didn’t pay as close attention to the lesson as he normally did. When the class was dismissed, he went to Gil, who was erasing the whiteboard.

"Did you come up with a plan?" he whispered.

Gil shook his head. "Not yet. Have patience. I promise that you’ll be contacted in plenty of time. For now, just concentrate on your classes."

"Easier said than done," Alex retorted with a huff of impatience.

"I know, but try. Now you’d best be off. I see Derek is waiting for you."

Alex nodded and headed out of the room, joining Derek in the hallway.

"Everything okay?" Derek asked.

"Yeah, it’s cool. Let’s grab some coffee and head over to the Math and Science building. I wonder why they’re holding the wilderness survival and nature studies classes there instead of here?"

Derek shrugged. "Guess we’ll find out."

****

When they got to the next class they saw that it was being held in one of the larger auditorium-type lecture rooms with tiered seating. Vorondur was already there with two rangers, all three holding clipboards. Alex gave Vorondur an enquiring look as they entered, but the Elf simply shook his head. Forcing himself not to grimace he followed Derek to some seats in the third row. Once the class settled down, Vorondur made introductions.

"Good morning and welcome to Wilderness Survival. I’m Ron Brightman and this is Ranger Francine Doran and Ranger Paul Pettingill. We’ll be team-teaching this course. First, though, we need to have everyone certified for CPR and first aid. We’ll split you up into smaller groups for this part of the course. If Ranger Doran calls your name go to room two-eleven. Take the stairs at the end of the hall and go left. Those called by Ranger Pettingill will go to room two-twelve. Everyone else will stay here. Once this part of the course is done with, we’ll all meet back here for the remainder of the term. Any questions?"

One of the students raised his hand and Ron acknowledged him. "What if you’re already certified?"

"You need to show proof that you’ve been certified within the last six months," Ron replied. "However, I highly recommend that you take this part of the course regardless. We’ll be covering how to deal with extreme arctic conditions with which most of you have had little experience. Francine, you want to start?"

Francine Doran gave a brisk nod, looking at her clipboard. "Dan Abbott, Rose Allingham, Shelley Baines. Lucy Barton...."

Alex and Derek ended up in the same class with Ranger Pettingill and dutifully made their way to room two-twelve. When Derek asked, Alex admitted that he was already certified and Derek admitted the same, so they pretty much sat back and watched the other students giggling over calling the dummy ‘Bob’ and being pretty awkward about it all.

Afterwards they went on to lunch and then to the archery field, which was now moved indoors. Again, Alex gave Elrohir and Elladan an enquiring look when he saw them and both Elves shook their heads. Alex couldn’t help scowling and was ready to walk away but knew he could not legitimately do so. He stalked over to where Derek was waiting for him before one of the targets and went through the motions of shooting arrows without really paying much attention to his aim, so he rarely hit the bull’s eye. Elladan standing nearby, watched him. When he’d emptied his quiver, the Elf called to him.

"How did you manage to survive all these years as a spy with so little patience?" he asked in a low voice. "Pull yourself together."

It was an order and Alex knew it, little though he liked it. Grimacing, he went back to the target and when it was his turn again, he concentrated more, placing most of the arrows inside the bull’s eye. It helped to imagine he was shooting at Farrell.

Finally the class ended and he and Derek went to eat dinner. They were sitting over coffee and dessert when Alex felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking around, he was surprised to see Vorondur there. The Elf smiled at him.

"Don’t forget our meeting," he said. "I’ll be in my office." Without waiting for Alex to respond, he left.

Derek gave him a puzzled look. "Something I should know about?"

Alex shook his head. "Ron’s agreed to... um... counsel me. I’m still having bad dreams about drowning."

"If there’s anything I can do...."

"You’re already doing it," Alex assured him with a smile as they dropped off their trays and made their way out of the cafeteria, "just by being there as a friend. I know you were planning to meet up with Zach. Tell him I’ll catch him the next time. I’d better go see Ron."

Derek nodded and the two parted ways. Alex reached Ron’s office and gave the door a perfunctory knock and opened it to find the room rather crowded with Elves. Besides Vorondur, all the other ellyn were there, wearing dark clothing.

"What did you decide?" Alex asked as he closed the door. The room was not overly large and the air was stuffy with so many bodies.

Glorfindel answered with his own question. "How many agents will show up?"

Alex shrugged, leaning against the door. "I’d like to say all of them, but I doubt it. Maybe four or five. Farrell won’t show, that I’m sure of. He’ll be hiding somewhere, watching."

Glorfindel nodded.

"So what’s the plan?"

"It’s not enough that we identify these agents," Elrohir said. "They need to be made ineffective, forced to leave the Game, as you call it."

"I know and I figured once I knew who they were I could implement another plan to get rid of them."

"We have our own ideas about that," Glorfindel said.

"What do you mean?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "I want your honest reaction when this goes down, so you’re going to have to go into this without knowing what we’ve decided to do. One question, though. Do you carry weapons?"

"I have an entire arsenal in a hidden compartment of my car," Alex said, raising an eyebrow.

"Then arm yourself with a gun, but please, make sure it isn’t loaded. It’s just for show and I don’t want anyone, even these other agents, inadvertently harmed."

"So my role in this?" Alex asked, frowning. He was less than pleased with the way this conversation was going.

"Your role is to be Artemus Gordon Meriwether, nothing more, nothing less and nothing else," Amroth told him, giving him a stern look that he recognized from years ago. It was the look that the senior agent had often given him when he became overly enthusiastic about some aspect of his training, an enthusiasm that often enough landed him in trouble. He had learned the hard way to temper that enthusiasm over the course of his career.

"Fine. I can do that," he finally said.

"One other thing," Glorfindel said. "I’m not risking Amroth in this. I’ll be taking his part. We’re close enough in coloring and size that I can pretend to be him."

"I’m sure the other agents know what you all look like," Alex pointed out. "The deception won’t last."

"It only has to last long enough for us to act," Glorfindel said.

Alex nodded, turning to Vorondur. "I told Derek you were counseling me to explain your summons. We still have almost two hours before this goes down. Perhaps we should make the lie a truth?"

"And do you truly feel the need for counseling?" Vorondur asked.

"Actually, I do. I can’t get Bregdal out of my head. I... I’d like to talk to you about him, if you... I mean...."

"We’ll clear out and let you have your privacy," Glorfindel said. "I’ll meet you at Edhellond at nine-thirty? If you’re being watched, it’s best to keep up appearances."

"Nine-thirty, then, and thanks, all of you."

"Don’t thank us yet, Alex," Elladan said with a grim smile. "Let’s wait until all this is over with."

Glorfindel gave a nod to the others and they all filed out, leaving Alex alone with Vorondur, who gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "So, why don’t you sit and tell me what’s on your mind."

****

The counseling session lasted longer than Alex intended but in the end he felt better and more grounded after speaking about his feelings concerning the revelations he’d had over the last few days. Vorondur was a sympathetic and non-judgmental listener and Alex was grateful for it. By the time they were done, it was nearly nine. They parted company and Alex went to change into dark clothes. He was glad to see that Derek was still out with Zach and their friends. He wrote a quick note saying he was taking a long drive to clear his head and not to wait up in case Derek came back and wondered where he was. Then he headed for his car.

When he arrived at Edhellond, he opened the trunk of the car, accessing a hidden compartment, and removed a .45 automatic, making sure the clip was empty. He removed his jacket and strapped on a shoulder holster, shoving the gun in it before putting his jacket on again, closing the trunk. Just about then, the front door opened and Glorfindel stepped out carrying a haversack, dressed in a black duster and a wide-brimmed hat which hid his features. Without a word, he climbed into the car and Alex did the same. Neither of them spoke the entire time they were in the car as Alex made his way down the street, turning onto Kodiak and heading for the town center. In spite of the lateness of the hour the sun was still in the sky though it was close to the horizon and the polar twilight was deepening.

Reaching the Safeway parking lot, they saw no other vehicles parked there. Glorfindel pointed to one of the street lamps at one edge of the lot which bordered a small park. "Park over there, close to the trees."

Alex complied and even as they were climbing out of the car, a dark van came around the corner and entered the lot, heading for them. Alex stood by his side of the car and Glorfindel joined him, keeping his face lowered so no one would be able to see it under the brim of his hat. "When I give the signal, pull out your gun as if you’re going to shoot someone," Glorfindel whispered.

"What’s the signal?" Alex whispered back.

"Don’t worry. You’ll know it when it happens."

Before Alex could offer a retort, the van came to a halt and almost immediately several people poured out of it. Alex counted five men and as they drew near, he realized he knew some of them and addressed them by name.

"Finlay. Crandall. Moore. Fancy meeting you here."

"Meriwether." the one Alex had identified as Finlay said, glancing at Glorfindel, who stood there with his head bowed as if in defeat. The agent sneered. "So what did you do to convince him to come with us?"

"I promised his wife would be left alone."

"Wife? What wife?" Alex could tell that Finlay was surprised by that revelation, as were the other four.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Farrell didn’t tell you? I sent out eight messages. Where are the others?"

Finlay shrugged. "Have no idea. None of us knew the others were here, and our only point of contact has been through Farrell. When I got your email, I checked with him for confirmation and he told me to meet the others at a particular location. We’re it. So, if you don’t mind, we’d like to get on the road. A plane’s waiting for us in Bettles to take Elwood to Anchorage."

Alex nodded, taking Glorfindel by the elbow and nudging him forward. "He’s all yours. Once I have confirmation that Elwood’s in a safehouse, I’ll pull out."

"Yeah, sure," Finlay said as he went to take Glorfindel into custody. Then he stopped and stared at the Elf, pushing the hat off him. "What the hell? You’re not Elwood!"

Before anyone could respond, Glorfindel, who’d had one hand in his coat pocket, pulled out a digital camera that was already turned on and grinned as he clicked the shutter. "Smile. You’re on candid camera."

With a shout, the five agents backed up, pulling weapons, and then all hell broke loose as several dark hooded figures burst out of the trees behind them, making impossible leaps over Alex’s car and attacking the agents. Alex pulled out his own gun and started waving it around, not sure what else he was supposed to do. He was saved the trouble of wondering when someone came up behind him, landing him a blow on the back of his head, sending him into darkness.

****

Á lelya ar hirë Laurefindil ar Eleroquen: Á tulya tú i-parmassenna: (Quenya) ‘Go and find Glorfindel and Elrohir. Bring them [dual] to the library.’

30: Aftermath

Alex woke to a blinding headache. Struggling to open his eyes, he tried to sit up and then had to lie down again when the world started spinning. He took deep centering breaths, trying to gauge his condition from feeling alone. Other than the knot on the back of his head, and feeling cold, he could detect no injuries. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw that the sky overhead was dark and there were a few stars shining down, but already the eastern horizon was bluing towards dawn. He slowly sat up and took stock of his situation.

"I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto," he said in a whisper, taking in his surroundings.

He appeared to be in the middle of a huge tract of wilderness, the tall pines blocking much of his view, but just where he might be exactly remained a mystery. He felt cold and realized he’d been lying on the ground, though someone had thoughtfully placed a blanket underneath him and another over him. Only when he started to stand up did he realize that he had something clenched in his left hand. Opening it, he found a piece of paper. There was just enough light now to see what was written on it:

‘Call this number and wait. Someone will pick you up.’

A phone number was scrawled beneath the message and there was no signature. Deciding he had no other choice, he fished out his cell phone, wondering if he would even get a signal out here and carefully punched in the number. He stumbled over to a fallen log to sit as he listened to the ring-tone on the other end. After the third ring, someone picked up.

"Awake, are we?" He didn’t quite recognize the voice.

"What the hell happened and where the hell am I?" Alex practically shouted into the phone.

"Don’t move from where you are," the voice said. "We’ll be there in about thirty minutes."

Before he had time to retort, the phone went dead. He shoved it back in his pocket, all the while cursing fluently in several languages, including one or two phrases of Sindarin that Barry had taught him during his stay at Edhellond. He wished he had some coffee or a stiff drink or something to drive away the headache. He got up and walked back to the blankets, scooping them up and returning to the log, throwing one around his shoulders and the other over his knees in an attempt to ward off the early morning chill.

All around him were the sounds of birds greeting the dawn and one or two squirrels chittering away, but, otherwise he was alone in the wilderness. He’d been lying in an open area and there was a wide trail that snaked between the trees east and west. Still wishing he had some coffee or even tea, he tried to make himself comfortable without much success. The sky continued to turn blue and pulling out his phone to check the time (it was going on four), he saw that it’d been nearly forty minutes since he’d made the call. Muttering a few choice curses at the Elves for apparently abandoning him, he got up to stretch, walking between the trees to get some circulation going and to relieve himself. He was returning to the log when he heard the sound of a motor in the distance. It was coming from the east. Shading his eyes against the sun’s glare, he waited. In a few minutes, a jeep came around a bend and as it pulled up beside him he saw Cennanion at the wheel. He was alone.

The Elf gave him a smile as he opened the passenger door, throwing the blankets into the back before climbing in. "We were wondering if we should come get you anyway when you called. We didn’t think you’d be out for as long as you were."

"Just what the hell kind of stunt did you bastards pull and who the hell hit me and why?"

Cennanion did not answer immediately, concentrating on turning the jeep around. Alex had to hang on to the door strap to keep himself more-or-less upright on the bumpy trail. "Explanations will have to wait until we get back," the Elf said. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone ran me over with a semi," Alex groused. "Did you guys have to hit me so hard?" He rubbed the back of his head, grimacing.

Cennanion gave him a wintry smile. "We had to make it look good. You said yourself that Farrell was probably watching the entire show. We had to be convincing." He jerked his head in the direction of the dashboard. "There’s hot coffee in the travel mug. I made it the way you like it."

Alex reached over and picked up the travel mug and took a long sip of the coffee, nearly scalding his mouth. "God! That’s so good. I think I could almost kiss you," he exclaimed, taking another sip.

Cennanion gave him a merry look. "Sorry, you’re not my type."

Alex snorted and settled back in his seat, closing his eyes. He was nearly asleep when they pulled into Wiseman. He woke with a start when Cennanion slowed at a stop sign. "Almost there," the Elf said unnecessarily. "There’s a hot shower and clean clothes and breakfast waiting for you."

"I left a note for Derek telling him I was taking a drive and not to wait up, but he’s going to be concerned when he sees my bed hasn’t been slept in."

"We’ll give him a call in a bit and tell him you ended up at the Blue Petrel where you met me, Gil and Barry and after having taken one drink too many, you passed out, so we brought you home rather than trying to get you back to the Academy."

"He’s going to razz me about that, but it’s better than telling him that a bunch of ninja Elves overpowered me and dropped me off in the middle of nowhere just because they could."

Cennanion laughed. A few minutes later, they were pulling into Edhellond. Glorfindel met them at the door, taking Alex’s arm and steering him towards the stairs. "We’ve put some clean clothes out in the room you had before. They should fit. Go take a shower and then come down and we’ll feed you."

Alex didn’t argue and trudged up the stairs. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the Elves had supplied all the necessary toiletries needed to freshen up. Twenty minutes later, shaved, showered and dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt with a University of Alaska Fairbanks logo on it, he was walking into the kitchen where he was warmly greeted by the Elves. Two people, though, were missing.

"Where’re Amroth and Della?"

"They’re staying at a B-and-B over in Chandalar for the time being," Glorfindel answered. "Now, sit and have some breakfast and then let Roy and Dan take a look at you. They should be able to alleviate your headache, though food will help as well. We’ll wait until you’ve eaten before we start answering all your questions."

Alex bit back a sigh but complied, realizing that he was famished. He spent about ten minutes eating the waffles and sausages put before him and when he had had his fill, Glorfindel poured him some more coffee and they all went down the hall to the library. Elladan and Elrohir placed their hands on Alex’s head as he sat before the fire, murmuring something Alex couldn’t quite make out but after a few minutes the dull throbbing eased and he could feel neck muscles relax. Once everyone else was seated, Glorfindel nodded to Alex.

"Go ahead and ask your questions."

"Where are Finlay and the others and just what was your plan again?"

"The plan was to neutralize as many of the agents as possible," Glorfindel said with a smile. "Your idea to smoke them out was sound enough but we couldn’t see how we could prevent them from taking Amroth unless we made it appear that there was another group interested in him."

"And that’s why you went all ninja on me?"

"It had the virtue of making it hard for anyone to identify us," Vorondur answered with a grin. "It was actually Roy’s idea. Frankly, I think he’s seen one too many Bruce Lee films myself, but it was the best plan we could come up with on such short notice."

"So what did you do with Finlay and the others?"

"Fear not!" Glorfindel assured him. "They are safe. We arranged to have them sent to a remote Inuit village way to the north, courtesy of Max Lightfoot. He contacted a second cousin on his mother’s brother’s side or some such relationship and now your agents will soon be guests of a small village of Inuits who don’t speak a word of English. Odd thing is, if they try to leave, they won’t be able to. I have one of the Maiar making sure of that."

"For how long?"

"Oh, until next spring," Glorfindel said with a sly smile. "Snow comes early and already the waters are freezing over. They’ll be all right, but for the next six months or so they’re going to be out of communications range."

"Maddy isn’t going to like that," Alex said with a grin, "and neither is Farrell."

"Will they call in more back up?" Misty asked. "That’s the only part of the plan that I wasn’t sure would work."

"Max is going to send me photos of all five agents in their new home," Glorfindel replied. "We’ll forward them to Alex’s boss with a note warning Ms Washburn not to send any more agents into Wiseman. I thought I would sign it ‘Elves with Attitude’."

Alex shook his head, giving a snort of amusement while the Elves all snickered. "And I would love to be there when Maddy gets your note. So, what now?"

"Now, you have to play dumb," Glorfindel replied. "I suggest that when Farrell contacts you, you tell him only that you have no idea who took you or the other agents and all you know is that you woke up on the side of the road next to a route sign giving you the direction for Wiseman and you had to walk back. The fate of your fellow agents will remain a mystery that won’t be solved anytime soon."

"It might work, but what if he’s got this place watched? They’ll know I came here with Conan."

Glorfindel smiled and there was a predatory look to it. "Fionwë has assured me that Farrell is too busy hunting for his agents to bother with us. Farrell is frantic. We know he tried to follow the van in which the agents came and which we borrowed to transport them but Fionwë... ah... hid it from his sight so he has no idea where it went."

"Okay. We’ll see how it goes," Alex said. "There are three more agents out there besides Farrell, but maybe they won’t do anything for a while."

"We can hope," Glorfindel said. "Conan will drive you back to the Academy. We already took your car back." He fished out a set of keys from a pocket. "Here you go. You’ll have enough time to make it before the bus leaves for today’s tour."

"Thanks and thanks for helping me out, but next time, don’t hit so hard." There was quiet laughter all around.

"I’ll get you something to carry your clothes in," Misty said as they were leaving the library and a few minutes later, Alex was shoving his clothes into a paper shopping bag from a boutique store in Fairbanks.

"If you start feeling dizzy or nauseous, call me immediately," Elrohir admonished him as he and Conan were leaving. Alex nodded and then they were climbing into the jeep and were soon on their way to the Academy.

****

Alex opened the door to his room to find Derek making his bed. The young man looked up as he entered and gave him a wry grin. "I hear you really tied one on last night."

"Yeah," Alex said, throwing the bag with his clothes in it on the floor by his bed. "Sorry about that. Met up with Gil and some others at the Blue Petrel and, well, one thing led to another and the next thing I know I’m in a strange bed with no idea how I’d gotten there."

Derek chuckled. "Sounds familiar. Did something similar in Bangkok. The bus is leaving in about fifteen minutes. You good to go or do you need to stay quiet?"

"No, I’m fine. Nothing that a hot shower didn’t cure and I’ve had breakfast. I’m just going to change my clothes and freshen up a bit. I’ll meet you downstairs."

"Okay," Derek said as he grabbed his coat. "Don’t be long."

Once Derek was gone, Alex pulled off the sweats and found another pair of jeans but decided to keep the sweatshirt on. Then, he opened his laptop and turned it on, waiting impatiently for it to connect to the internet. As soon as it did, he opened his email account and shot a quick message to Farrell:

'What????!!!!'

He smiled as he hit the ‘Send’ key. Then he sent another email to Maddy:

‘Lost Elwood. Unknown assailants took him when I was handing him over to our people who are also missing. Please advise.’

He pressed ‘Send’ and closed down, satisfied that he’d covered all bases. He grabbed his coat and began whistling Elton John’s ‘I’m still standing’ as he headed for the bus.

****

All week long, Alex expected Farrell or Maddy to contact him, but neither one did. In the meantime, he continued with his classes. The nature studies class, taught by Daisy, proved quite interesting for him and he loved the children’s guidebook that was their textbook. Derek joked that they should buy some crayons and color in the line drawings of the various animals and plants.

"That sounds like a good project for a rainy Sunday afternoon," Alex agreed with a laugh. "Maybe I’ll buy some crayons next time I go into town."

The ‘On Being a Tour Guide’ class was also an eye-opener for Alex. It was taught by Roland Smith, the head of Wiseman’s Chamber of Commerce. He was a dry, pedantic lecturer, but he knew his subject and Alex came away from the first class with a better appreciation of just what being a tour guide entailed. It was a welcome relief to walk into Gil’s Sindarin class.

"Man siniath uin forod?" he asked the Elf softly.

Gil gave him an amused look. "Ethir vellyn gîn vi band."

"No friends of mine," Alex retorted with a grin, reverting to English.

"Any word from Farrell?" Gil asked softly.

Alex shook his head. "No, and that has me worried. If I hear anything, I’ll let you all know. How are Amroth and Della?"

"Still in hiding," Gil answered. He gave Alex a knowing grin. "They’re calling it a second honeymoon, which is rather ironic, since there really wasn’t a first honeymoon."

Alex snorted in amusement as he went to find his seat and the class began.

****

Saturday morning, after breakfast, Alex joined Derek and some of their friends who were going into Wiseman to do some shopping. Once in town, people went their separate ways, agreeing to meet for lunch at the Gold Nugget Café. For a while, Alex wandered with Derek and a couple of others, but parted company with them at the small bookstore and stationary shop, deciding to check out the store’s poetry section, thinking he might find something as a Christmas gift for his mother.

He spent a happy half an hour or so browsing, eventually choosing an anthology of poetry composed by native Alaskans. Making his purchase, he stepped outside and started towards the café. He had only gone a little further along the street when someone came up behind him and he felt something sticking into his back.

"Don’t turn around." Alex recognized Farrell’s voice. "There’s an alley just ahead," the agent whispered. "Don’t try to run or you’re dead."

Alex gave a slight nod of his head in acknowledgment and did as he was bid. Once inside the alley and away from any witnesses, Farrell grabbed Alex by the back of his coat and slammed him into the wall. "Where are they?" he hissed. "What the hell did you do to my men?"

"Nothing," Alex gasped. "Some dudes showed up out of nowhere while I was making the exchange with Finlay and the next thing I know I’m knocked out. When I came to, I found myself lying on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I ended up having to walk back to Wiseman."

"Where’s Elwood?" Farrell demanded, pushing Alex into the wall.

"How the hell should I know?" Alex retorted. "Is there another group interested in him?"

Farrell eased his hold on him and stepped back, giving him a scowl as Alex turned around to face him. "How did you convince him to go with Finlay in the first place?"

"I can be very persuasive when I want to be," Alex said with a smirk. "After our little talk, I confronted McKinley and he admitted that he was Ambrose. I was able to convince him that turning himself in was the better option with the promise that his wife would be left out of it."

Farrell scowled. "Something doesn’t add up. I got an email with photos of Finlay and the others sitting in a field of snow surrounded by Eskimos pointing harpoons at them with a message telling me that I’d see them again in the spring and if I was smart I would leave Wiseman and never come back. So just who the hell is in this game with us?"

Alex shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine. I went to the mansion to see if Elwood returned there but neither he nor his wife have been seen since Monday. Della apparently went shopping and never came back."

"And no one’s raised the alarm?" Farrell asked skeptically.

"For reasons I haven’t been able to figure out, DelaFiore refused to go to the police. I have no authority to do so. As far as everyone is concerned, they’re taking a holiday and their classes are being taught by others. Look, Farrell, I have no more idea than you do as to where Finlay and the others are and that’s the God’s honest truth. Now, unless you have anything else to say to me, I will be on my way. My friends are expecting me for lunch."

"Why are you continuing this charade?" Farrell asked. "Why aren’t you out there looking for whoever took Elwood?"

"Because when I woke up I found a note stuck in my coat pocket warning me not to interfere or there would be dire consequences. I emailed Maddy for instructions but haven’t heard diddly from her. Until I do, I will continue playing the role of student and hope that in the meantime I might be able to find out what happened to Elwood. DelaFiore and the others are hiding something, I’m convinced of that and I’m pretty damn sure Elwood is behind it. So let me do my job, okay?"

Farrell grimaced. "You should’ve taken him out when you had the chance. For all we know, he’s in Moscow."

"Or he’s hiding right here in Wiseman," Alex retorted. "If we’ve lost him, we’ve lost him and there’s precious little we can do."

"I’ll be in touch," Farrell said and stalked away. Alex stayed where he was for a couple of minutes until he was sure Farrell was gone and smiled to himself as he sauntered out of the alley and headed for the café.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Man siniath uin forod?: ‘What news from the north?’

Ethir vellyn gîn vi band: ‘Your spy friends are in safekeeping.’

31: The Beginning of Woes

Monday morning, Glorfindel was in the lounge getting a cup of tea while everyone was still in class, taking a break from his work. Being an administrator of the Academy involved a lot more paperwork than he originally had thought it would and he was grateful for people like Zach and Marian acting as his assistants. He briefly pined for his old job in Search and Rescue, wondering what his fellow workers were doing right now. He had not been close to any of them — far too dangerous and any relationship would have been brief and eventually full of grief for him — but he had cared for them and hoped they were doing well.

He took a seat at one of the tables, idly looking out one of the wide windows that gave a view of the campus. From where he sat, he could see several of the other classroom buildings and the main administrative office for the entire college. Students strolled or hurried along the pathways, making their way to their classes or meeting with friends for coffee at the student center. Clouds were beginning to darken the sky and he could tell that snow was coming.

He was taking another sip of his tea, thinking he should get back to his office, when students started filing out of the various classrooms down the hall. He noticed Alex among them and gave him a smile when their eyes happened to meet. Alex only nodded back, making his way to the counter to give his order to the attendant, then joining Glorfindel at his table.

"Loren," he said in greeting.

"Alex. How are you today?" gesturing for him to take a seat, which he did.

"Farrell contacted me Saturday," Alex replied softly, not really looking at the Elf. "He’s very upset."

"Of course," Glorfindel replied with a nod. "What else?"

"Finally heard from Maddy Washburn. She’s ordered me to stay put until further notice. Wants me to help Farrell to track down Amroth’s... um... kidnappers." He flashed Glorfindel a wry look. "Will there be a ransom note?"

Glorfindel shook his head, a faint smile of amusement on his lips. "No. We’ll keep the identities of the... um... ninja Elves a secret for now."

Alex nearly choked on his drink, trying not to laugh. When he had gotten himself under control he gave Glorfindel a shrewd look. "Amroth can’t hide forever. How long will we keep this up?"

"Give it another week or so and see what happens," Glorfindel suggested. "So where’s Derek? You two never seem to be far apart."

"He wasn’t feeling well this morning," Alex replied, "so he didn’t go to class. Funny thing is, at least three other students were out. Must be something going around."

"It’s that time of year," Glorfindel said with a nod.

Alex gave him a considering look. "You ever been sick?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "My people don’t suffer illness or disease as you Mortals do."

"Lucky you," Alex retorted with a trace of sarcasm.

"Others may consider your people’s propensity towards illnesses and such a weakness but I have always admired you Mortals for being able to overcome such things and going on. Besides, you know what they say, what doesn’t kill you...."

"Only makes you wish it had," Alex interjected with a snort of grim amusement and Glorfindel laughed, the sound of it suddenly lightening the atmosphere around them and Alex found himself smiling for no particular reason and noticed others who were in the lounge doing the same. "Well, I see it’s almost time for the next class," Alex said, draining his mug. "I’ll catch you later."

"Tell Derek that I hope he feels better soon," Glorfindel said and Alex nodded his thanks as he stood and returned the mug to the counter before joining the exodus with the other students.

Glorfindel remained where he was for a few minutes longer until the lounge had emptied out and then got up and went to the counter. "Let me have another Earl Grey, Larry," he said to the attendant and once he had gotten his tea, he headed back to his office to tackle the day’s work.

****

Alex noticed that several more people were absent from the CPR class and commented on it to one of the other students.

"Yeah, my roomie seemed to spend half the night in the bathroom," the young woman said. "Hope I don’t get what she’s got."

After class, he stopped at his room to check on Derek but found the room empty. On a hunch he headed for the bathroom, meeting Derek as he came out, looking wan.

"You okay?" he asked worriedly, taking his arm and helping him back to their room.

Derek shook his head. "I should just move into the bathroom. It seems that’s all I been doing all morning is running back and forth."

"And you’re not the only one," Alex said. "You should try to drink as much water as possible. Here, I’ll fill your water bottle. Where do you keep it?"

"Check my closet," Derek said. "I usually keep it on the top shelf if I’m not carrying it."

Alex opened the closet and found the bottle, taking it over to the sink and filling it. "Something’s going around, that’s for sure," he said as he handed the bottle to Derek. "I think between the two classes this morning, a good third of the students were out."

"All at once?" Derek asked, frowning. "That doesn’t sound good." He paused to take a long sip, lying back against his pillows. "For something to come on that quickly and hit so many people at once sounds almost like a plague."

Alex gave a shudder. "Or food poisoning."

"Do you think that’s what it might be? Makes sense, all things considered."

"The only thing wrong with the theory is that I had the same as you did last night at dinner, so why aren’t I sick as well?" Alex asked.

"Don’t know," Derek said, then muttered a profanity as he pulled the covers off him and thrust his feet into his slippers and practically ran out the door. Alex waited for him to return, filling the water bottle and mulling over things. After several minutes, Derek came back, practically stumbling into his bed.

"Looks as if I’m not the only one on this floor suffering," he mumbled as he took some water.

"Look, I can stay here if you’d like," Alex offered.

"No, don’t do that. Go have lunch and get on to class. I’ll be fine. It’s not like I haven’t been sick before."

"Okay. I’m going to see if I can get some tea and toast for you while I’m at lunch and bring it back before I go on to archery."

"Thanks. I’m going to try an get some sleep in the meantime."

****

Alex was halfway to the cafeteria, when he changed his mind and headed for the administrative offices, thinking to check in with Glorfindel. He knocked on the office door but, receiving no answer, walked down to Daeron’s office, hoping he would be there. When he knocked, he received an answer, and opening the door, was surprised to see not only Daeron but Glorfindel and Vorondur. The three Elves looked up and frowned.

"Now’s not a good time, Alex," Glorfindel said.

"Derek thinks it’s plague or maybe food poisoning," Alex said without preamble. "Just from my two classes this morning I counted at least a third of the students out. That’s too many too quickly not to be something serious."

"You’re right, of course," Daeron said before Glorfindel could respond, gesturing for him to come further into the room. "How many were out from each class?"

"Well, Gil’s class had four out and in the CPR class, which should have had twenty students, we were down to fourteen."

"Who from Gil’s class should have been in the CPR class but weren’t?" Daeron asked, plugging some information into his computer.

"Uh... let me see, Derek and...uh... I think two others. The others who were out are from the other section."

"So seven students altogether," Daeron said. "And that’s just those two classes. The reports I’ve been getting all morning from the main administrative office seem to suggest a viral infection of some sort, possibly that Norovirus that seems to be everywhere lately."

"Stomach flu?" Alex asked. "I know it goes around. Lord knows, I’ve had my share of it, but it’s a bit early for it isn’t it? Doesn’t it usually hit during the winter?"

Daeron nodded. "It can occur any time of the year though about eighty percent of the cases occur between November and April, but it just takes one person to come down with it and it can spread very quickly. My guess is that someone on the cafeteria staff had it."

"Makes sense, when you think about it." Alex said with a nod. He glanced at Glorfindel. "I was just about to go to lunch myself but now...."

"It is a concern and I will be speaking with Grace in a bit," Glorfindel said. "At the moment, only about a dozen people associated with the Academy are down with it, but it can easily spread through the entire campus. From what I understand, a person can be contagious for up to two weeks even though they only suffer from it for a couple of days."

"A domino effect," Alex said.

"Exactly," Daeron said, looking grim. "And that can cause serious problems with the school. A campus in Minnesota, I think, had to shut down completely for nearly a month until they were able to get the contagion under control."

"And we have six weeks left of this term," Glorfindel said. "We can’t afford to shut down. The tourist industry is depending on us to produce tour guides ready to work by Thanksgiving. I’m going to check with Grace now. Keep me posted," he said to Daeron who nodded.

"I’ll go with you," Alex said. "I may not eat lunch but I promised Derek some tea and toast if I can get it, though now I’m wondering."

"Let’s talk with Grace," Glorfindel said, then turned to Vorondur, speaking rapidly in Quenya. Alex recognized it was that and not Sindarin though he did not know what was being said. Vorondur nodded, answering in the same language and then Glorfindel was gesturing for Alex to proceed him out the door.

"I need to learn that language," Alex said as the two headed for the cafeteria. "For all I know, you just told Ron that you think I’m ugly and my mommy dresses me funny."

Glorfindel choked back a laugh. "Not even close. Actually, I was giving him some instructions and they had nothing to do with you, so don’t worry about it. If you’re interested in learning Quenya, I’ll be starting up another beginner’s course after the New Year. You’re welcome to join it."

"You’re assuming I’ll still be here then," Alex said. "By rights, I should be scouring the countryside looking for clues as to Amroth’s disappearance, or at least pretending to, because once they decide to give up the search, I’ll be recalled to D.C."

"Unless they decide to investigate the Academy further," Glorfindel retorted, "in which case, they may tell you to remain under cover."

"Worry about that when and if it comes," Alex said with a shrug. "Right now, I’m concerned about the health and well-being of my friends."

"It’s not a deadly plague, just a nuisance," Glorfindel reminded him.

"But I know some people suffer more than others and it can take a deadly turn, because you can get it again and then it gets even worse. I know because I suffered from it about five years ago. Spent nearly twenty-four hours throwing up. Got over it, went back to work and bang! A week later I was out for a whole other week being so sick I wished I could just die and get it over with."

By now they had reached the cafeteria and made their way into the kitchen area where they found Grace directing the servers. She acknowledged Glorfindel’s presence and the three of them stepped into her office for more privacy.

"We have several people down with stomach flu, it seems," Glorfindel said without preamble. "Given the swiftness of the attack, we suspect perhaps someone working here had it at one point."

Grace nodded and said, "Christy Ogden. She called in sick a couple of Fridays ago, but was back at work on Monday."

"Did she say why she was ill?" Glorfindel asked.

Grace shrugged. "Said she had the runs for a day and felt under the weather for most of the weekend but was fine on Monday. Do you think she somehow spread it? I’ve been very strict about my workers washing their hands and wearing gloves and donning new gloves whenever they move from one work station to another and we’re constantly running the dishwasher. I don’t let any dirty utensils sit around long."

"Even with all those precautions, it can still spread," Glorfindel reminded her. "Christy may have gotten the symptoms on Friday but she was still working here the day before that. She would still be infectious even now. Just touching people or coughing could spread it."

"Is Christy here and has anyone else called in sick?" Alex asked.

Grace gave him a considering look, as if wondering what he was doing there, but answered readily enough. "Christy works the dinner shift. She won’t be in until four. Two of my other workers are out today though, and I was a bit shorthanded for breakfast and now lunch. If we lose too many others to this virus, I’ll either have to petition the college for additional outside help or we’ll have to shut down the cafeteria for a couple of weeks to make sure it’s okay to eat here again."

"And that is only one of our concerns," Glorfindel said. "Darren says there are reports of other cases throughout the campus. We suspect we may have a Norovirus plague on our hands."

"I’ll start implementing a shut-down of the cafeteria immediately after lunch, then. There won’t be any dinner, I’m afraid. My people and I will be too busy disinfecting every inch of this place. We’ll reopen again tomorrow, unless we’re given a no-go from Administration."

"I’ll have a general announcement made that the cafeteria will be closed until tomorrow," Glorfindel said. "People will have to either eat in town or go to the other dining halls."

"I’d like to get some tea and toast for Derek," Alex said to Grace as the three left her office and Glorfindel went on his way.

Grace nodded. "I’ll fix it myself. What about you? Have you eaten yet?"

"No. I’m not all that hungry at the moment. I have some energy bars I can munch on before I go to archery."

"I’ll get the toast ready. You go out to the dining hall and get the tea."

Alex thanked her and went over to the drinks dispenser, grabbing a styrofoam cup and filling it with boiling hot water, shoving a cover on it and picking up a tea bag. He was standing out of the way of the other students, looking out the window. It was snowing now, the flakes gently falling, but already the ground was covered. Grace came over with a plate covered with a napkin, handing it to him.

"Looks like we’re in for a bit of a blow," she said, staring out the window.

"Does it always snow this early?" Alex asked.

"Early?" Grace said in surprise. "No, young man. It’s just on time. We won’t see any green again until April, if we’re lucky."

Alex sighed, thanked her for the tea and toast, and left. When he reached his room he was glad to see Derek was sound asleep and hated to wake him, but he didn’t want the tea and toast to go cold so he gently shook his friend awake. Derek gave him a weak smile.

"Sorry to wake you, but I brought you some tea and toast. Do you think you can try some?"

"Tea sounds lovely. Not sure about the toast, but I’ll give it a try," Derek said as he struggled into a sitting position.

"I need to get to class. You going to be okay?"

"Sure, mate. Get on with you. I’ll be fine."

"They’re closing the cafeteria for the rest of the day," Alex told him. "It may open again tomorrow. I’ll try to find some dinner for you somewhere. I may go into town and get a pizza. I’ll stop at the café and get some take-out for you, maybe some soft-boiled eggs or something."

"Thanks. I appreciate it," Derek said, sipping the tea. "Better get going or you’ll be late."

Alex went, grabbing his coat and hat. He left the Academy, making his way to the phys. ed. building, and joined the rest of the class for archery. It did not escape his notice that the class was smaller than usual and halfway through the lesson one of the other students asked to be excused, complaining of not feeling well. Elrohir gave his permission but when the woman started being sick before she reached the door, he dismissed the rest of the class and went to help her.

Alex hung around long enough to assure himself that the Elf had the situation under control and then left. Elrohir could not get the virus so it was safe enough for him to handle the mess. He stepped outside and swore. In the time he was in class the snow had continued falling and apparently at a more rapid rate. He thought at least six inches were on the ground already and the walkways were gone. No way was he going to go into town in this. Instead, he trudged over to the student center, muttering curses at the snow, his feet soaked, for he was wearing just shoes rather than winter boots. He stood in line at the snack bar and ordered a large tea and coffee, bought some pre-packaged sandwiches and some chips for himself and some vanilla pudding for Derek and then made his slow way back to the Academy, all the while hoping against hope that he didn’t come down with the dratted virus himself.

32: Snowed-In

The snow continued falling through the night and by morning it was obvious to all that the day’s planned tours and activities were cancelled, giving the Academy students a holiday, or, at least, for some.

Derek woke up to a stale, putrid smell and low moaning. Wrinkling his nose, he pulled the covers off and got out of bed. "Alex, are you....?" but the question died on his lips as he saw his friend lying on his bed in a pool of vomit and diarrhea, clutching his stomach.

"Damn!" He pulled on a robe and slippers and went to the door, hoping to find someone else awake to help him. He stepped outside and was surprised to see one of the instructors, Dan, he thought, coming along the hall with a clipboard in his hand. He had stopped at the first door on Derek’s side of the hall and was about to knock when Derek called out.

"Please, I need help."

Dan came swiftly to him, and Derek let him in without a word. In the time Derek had been out of the room, Alex had apparently stumbled out of the bed and was now lying on the floor, still clutching his stomach and throwing up again. Dan shoved his clipboard into Derek’s hands and went to Alex, and, ignoring the mess, lifted him into a sitting position with one hand to prevent him from choking, while at the same time, pulling out his cell phone and speed-dialing a number, speaking rapidly in Sindarin before putting the phone away.

"Help will be here shortly," he said to Derek in English. Alex, finished with vomiting, was now weeping tears of pain and embarrassment. "Shhh.... it’s all right, Alex. We’ll get you cleaned up soon." He felt the Man’s forehead. "He’s burning up."

Derek heard the sound of someone running down the hall, stopping at the open doorway. It was Dan’s twin brother, and Barry. Dan started issuing orders in rapid Sindarin. Roy came and knelt on the other side of Alex, placing a hand on his forehead, softly crooning, while Barry left and headed for the bathroom. Derek just stood there, feeling helpless. After a minute, Roy stopped singing, and Derek noticed that Alex seemed almost asleep.

"Let’s get him into the shower and clean him up," Dan said, rising from his crouch and easily lifting him into his arms, seemingly unconcerned by Alex’s soiled condition.

"I’ll grab something to wrap him in," Roy said, also standing. Both men left the room and Derek followed, not knowing what else to do. Dan reached the bathroom door, pushing it open with his body. Derek could hear water running and then Barry was there helping Dan to strip Alex of his soiled clothes.

"We’ll need to burn everything," Dan said over the sound of the water running. "Derek, can you find a garbage bag or something? We need to get rid of these clothes and the bed linen."

"Yeah, sure. I can go to the cafeteria and get something."

"Good. Off you go."

It was a dismissal and as much as Derek wanted to stay, even though he wasn’t doing anything but standing there, he took off, heading for the cafeteria. He met Roy on the way. The man had a pile of towels and blankets in his hands. Derek told him where he was going and Roy nodded. "The cafeteria staff just got here, so you shouldn’t have a problem getting in."

Derek nodded and they parted. It was as Roy said and he had no trouble getting the garbage bag and was soon back in his room to find Loren and Darren were there as well. There was no sign of Alex.

"Here’s the bag," Derek said unnecessarily as he entered his room. "Where’s Alex?"

Loren smiled and took the bag from him, handing it to Roy, who began stripping the bed and shoving the filthy linen into it. "How are you feeling?" he asked solicitously.

"Better. Still a bit weak, though. I’d like to go back to bed, actually."

"But not here," Loren said. "We’ve taken Alex to the clinic and I suggest you take yourself to the showers and then get dressed. After that, you should pack a bag. We’ll put you up at our place until we’ve had this room completely disinfected. Leave your robe and your sleepwear here and we’ll have everything laundered."

"I don’t...."

"It’s all right, Derek," Loren said soothingly. "Go take your shower."

"But Alex... is he going to be all right?"

"He’ll be fine, I promise."

"He’s my friend, and... and I couldn’t do anything... and...."

"Derek."

Derek turned to see a complete stranger there, not sure how he’d come into the room without his noticing him. He had long golden-red hair and a compassionate look and Derek immediately felt... safe.

"Hello, Derek," the stranger said, giving him a warm smile as he took his arm and started leading him out of the room, grabbing Derek’s toiletry bag on the way out. "My name is Finn. I’m an old friend of Loren’s from when he was in Search and Rescue. Now, why don’t we get you into a shower and I’ll help you pack. Don’t worry about Alex. He’s in good hands."

Derek allowed himself to be led away, feeling somewhat bemused. He went through the motions of shaving and showering. Finn, in the meanwhile, brought him some clothes, so he dressed in the bathroom. Other students were now showing up to take showers, asking what all the commotion was about and Derek told them.

As they were talking, Loren came in, carrying Dan’s clipboard. "Who else is sick on this floor?" he asked. "We’re trying to get a head count so we know who is sick, who has been sick and who isn’t sick yet."

Two students indicated that their roommates were sick and three said they had been but were not feeling too sick now. In the meantime, Finn was speaking to Derek. "I’ve taken the liberty of packing for you," he said. "Let’s get your coat and hat and get you on your way."

"How?" Derek asked. "I’ve had a look outside. I don’t think the streets are even plowed yet."

"Oh, don’t worry about that," Finn assured him. "I have my own transportation."

Derek couldn’t interpret the smile and wink he gave to Loren who merely looked on with amusement. "Go on with...er... Finn, Derek. He’ll see you safely to Edhellond."

"And Alex?"

"As soon as we’ve heard from the doctors on his condition, we’ll let you know, I promise."

And with that, Derek had to be content. He was never afterwards sure just how he got from the Academy to the mansion. He remembered stepping outside with Finn who wasn’t even wearing a coat and didn’t seem too concerned about how cold it was. Derek could see the parking lot consisted of nothing more than mysterious humps of snow that had to be cars. Everything was blanketed in white and nothing was moving. The two of them stood on the porch for a moment, drinking in the view and then Finn turned to Derek.

"Look at me, Derek," he said, and, as softly as he spoke, there was a ring of command to it and Derek had no choice but to comply. He felt himself being drawn into Finn’s blue-eyed gaze, unable to look away and he could hear the man speaking softly but did not understand the words. Then there seemed to be a timeless moment when all consciousness ceased and when he came to himself again he found they were no longer at the Academy but standing outside a mansion.

"Ho...how did we get here?" he asked, his eyes widening and his heart beating wildly.

"Magic," Finn said with a laugh. "Now, don’t worry about it." He brushed his hand lightly over Derek’s forehead and Derek felt suddenly calm and, even as the door opened and Holly was greeting him, he had completely forgotten how he’d gotten there and never afterwards remembered ‘Finn’ who, after giving Holly a merry greeting, walked away, disappearing into the snow.

****

Elrohir tracked Glorfindel down at the college clinic where he was waiting to hear from the doctor about Alex’s condition. The two were in the waiting room, speaking softly in Sindarin.

"We’ve taken everything, including the mattress, to the incinerator to be burned. For good measure, we had Derek’s mattress burned as well. We’ve already requisitioned new mattresses. Barry and Dan are presently disinfecting the entire room from top to bottom. It should be ready for habitation in a couple of days."

Loren nodded. "Good. We’ll keep Derek with us until Alex is able to leave the clinic. What’s the tally so far?"

"We’ve got about twenty people down with it at the Academy," Elrohir replied. "Daeron’s checking with the Admin people to see how badly the college as a whole is being affected. He should have the numbers for you shortly."

"Obviously, we can’t isolate people unless they are suffering from severe symptoms like Alex, but we’re going to have to do some major disinfecting of the entire building."

"That’s a tall order and with this storm, we’re not going to see any supplies immediately. I doubt the janitorial staff has that much disinfectant on hand."

"I know, but if we act now then we’re that much ahead. Call Nicole and Dave Michaelson. They’ll know who to contact for these things."

Elrohir nodded and stood. "I’ll get right on it. Any news on Alex?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "I’m waiting to speak with Dr. Lawrence."

"Call me or Dan if you need us here," Elrohir said.

"Thanks. I will."

Elrohir left and Glorfindel schooled himself to patience. He wasn’t too surprised when he found Fionwë sitting next to him still in his ‘Finn’ persona, giving him a grin. No one else in the waiting room noticed his sudden appearance.

"Thank you for helping me out with Derek," Glorfindel said quietly. "I could tell he was beginning to go into panic-mode."

"My pleasure. Derek is safely in Edhellond where Ercassë is happily plying him with herbal tea and motherly love, something the poor child hasn’t had in a long time."

Glorfindel nodded. "Anything else?"

"Farrell is presently holed up in his hotel room cursing everything and everyone under the sun. He tried to reach Alex by phone with no luck. He doesn’t know about him being sick yet. The five agents we sent north are still trying to escape from their imprisonment."

"Who’s watching them?" Glorfindel asked. "I never did think to ask. I hope whoever’s there isn’t too bored with the assignment."

"Bored?" Fionwë exclaimed with a broad smile. "Not likely. My Lord Manwë gave the assignment to Ilmarë with Lady Varda’s permission. When I checked in with her she told me she hasn’t had this much fun since… well, let’s just say it’s been a very long time." He gave Glorfindel a conspiratorial look, leaning closer and whispering, "The other Maiar are jealous and keep begging Lord Manwë for the chance to… er… ‘play with the cute Mortals’, as one of them put it."

"Cute?" Glorfindel started laughing. "These are trained government agents with a license to kill. There’s nothing ‘cute’ about them."

"From your perspective, perhaps," Fionwë averred, "but from our perspective, you’re all cute. At any rate, Ilmarë is having fun coming up with unique ways to deter them from escaping. She’s even appeared to the village shaman in his dreams to warn him of some of the escape attempts. By now those five men have a healthy fear of that shaman and his supposed powers."

"Will we have a fight on our hands when it’s time to release them from durance vile?" Glorfindel inquired with a sly grin.

"No, I promise, there will be no attempts to… um… keep them there any longer than necessary."

"Good. They are not necessarily evil men and they must have families or friends who will worry over their absence."

"That is something that neither I nor any of the Maiar can do anything about," Fionwë said. "Ah, I believe that’s Doctor Lawrence looking for you now. I will leave you."

Glorfindel was relieved to see the Maia simply get up and walk away and then his attention was on the doctor who held out his hand in greeting as he stood. "Loren, good to see you again. Alex is resting comfortably at the moment. We’ve got him on saline and glucose and that’s about all we can do for him. The virus will have to run its course."

"He seemed to have been affected more strongly than others," Glorfindel commented.

"There are a few cases where someone suffers more than usual from the Norovirus."

"It’s confirmed then," Glorfindel said and Lawrence nodded.

"So far Alex seems to be the only one who has had a very severe reaction to it, and we can thank our lucky stars for that. Unfortunately, the number of new cases is growing and there’s evidence that it’s spread into the town. There are going to be a lot of very unhappy people for a time until this is all over."

"Can I see him?"

"Well, seeing as how you’re an Elf and all, I guess I can allow it," Lawrence said with a smile, which Glorfindel returned. "He’s probably asleep, though, but you can go in for a few minutes, if only to assure yourself that he’s okay. He’s been moved to the ward, room twenty-seven. Just take this hall and make a left."

"Thanks, John. I appreciate it." He shook the doctor's hand and made his way to room twenty-seven where he found Alex lying in bed, hooked up to an IV, his eyes closed. Glorfindel moved silently to the bed and brushed a hand through the Man’s hair. Alex opened his eyes and Glorfindel smiled.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Not good," Alex croaked. "I’m sorry about…."

"No need for apologies, Alex. These things happen. The important thing is that you’re on the mend."

"Derek?"

"He’s spending a few days with us until you’re ready to be released. We’re having the room disinfected and it should be ready for you by the time you leave here. In the meantime, rest and get well."

"Farrell…."

"Is being watched and nothing will happen soon. There’s a blizzard on and everything is at a stand-still. I think we’re due for an ice storm as well. I can smell it in the air. Now, rest. I’ll stop by later to see how you’re doing."

Alex nodded and closed his eyes, already asleep as Glorfindel let himself out of the room. He made his way out of the clinic and headed for the Academy, lightly walking on top of the snow, unconcerned as to who might see him.

****

Daeron looked up at the perfunctory knock on his door and motioned for Glorfindel to come in. "This doesn’t look good," he said, staring at his computer screen. "We have a total of eighty-five confirmed cases of Norovirus on the campus and I just got a call from St. Luke’s. There are seven confirmed cases from the town and they predict that number will rise rather quickly with everything shut down and people trapped in their homes until they can get the plows out."

"There’s an ice storm coming, as well," Glorfindel said, leaning against the door jamb, his hands folded across his chest. "That’s not going to help matters at all."

"I know, but we’ll do our best."

"We have generators in case we lose power," Glorfindel said, "but as far as I know, they've never been tested. Have Conan take a look at them, will you? I want to make sure they're in proper working condition and there’s enough fuel to last us if the power is out for too long."

"He’s out front, helping to clear the parking lot so people can get to their cars. No sense letting batteries die."

Glorfindel nodded. "How are we for food and water?"

"I checked with Grace. Thankfully, there was a shipment of supplies over the weekend so the pantries are full. She told me that she’s good for meals for a week or maybe a little longer if she stretches things a bit. Hopefully, by then, the weather will have cleared."

"The kitchen has its own generator, doesn’t it?"

"Yes. My main concern is keeping the dorm rooms heated if we lose power for any length of time. That main generator isn’t going to be sufficient to heat all the rooms. It’s really designed to provide enough electricity for people to see by."

"If we have to, we’ll move everyone into the cafeteria. That at least will be warm from the kitchen generator."

"And all those people breathing on one another," Daeron said with a grimace.

"One thing at a time. We may not lose power or only for a short amount of time, but let’s make preparations just in case. I’m going to have some of us move into the Academy for the time being to help keep order."

Daeron nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. We can take shifts. By the way, how’s Alex doing?"

"He’s one sick little puppy but John Lawrence assures me he’s on the mend. Holly’s looking after Derek."

Daeron smiled. "I know. She called awhile ago to tell me the child fell asleep in the middle of sipping some broth. She had Ron put him in the Lórien room."

Glorfindel nodded his approval, straightening. "I’m going to go walk the halls, see how things are. If you need me, just call me or come find me. Once I’m sure everything is under control I’ll be in my office."

"Will do."

Glorfindel left the loremaster and headed towards the women’s dorm, making a slow circuit through all the halls on each floor, stopping to speak with anyone who happened to be about, asking how they were faring and answering any questions they might have. Most seemed worried about being snowed in for any length of time, especially those who had never experienced a blizzard before. Glorfindel assured them that everything was under control and they should only concern themselves with either getting well or staying well.

"There won’t be any classes until we dig out," he told them, "so spend the time relaxing and catching up on your emails and such."

Eventually he finished his walkabout and went to his office where he sat without bothering to turn on the light, staring out the window. It was only early afternoon but the sky was dark with clouds and the snow, which had stopped earlier, now resumed falling. In his bones he could feel the ice storm heading their way, though he had heard no reports to that effect as yet.

"Tomorrow... or Thursday," he muttered to himself. He reached for his cell phone and speed-dialed a particular number. "It’s Glorfindel. The honeymoon is over. I need you two back here as soon as possible. Alex has caught the Norovirus and he’s in a bad way." He closed down the phone and put it on his desk, then turned to look out the window at the falling snow, contemplating many things.

33: Storm Preparations

Glorfindel was still working at his office when Daeron sought him out. "As of five minutes ago, we’re now under martial law. Mayor Whitman has declared a state of emergency. There’s to be no unnecessary travel and the town is pretty much shut down."

Glorfindel nodded. "Marian called me to let me know," he said. "There’s a meeting tonight at seven with the college president for all the administrators. Richard wants to organize the college so we don’t have a panic. I’ll need you to keep an eye on things here while I’m at the meeting."

Daeron nodded. "No problem. I’ve set up a rotation of watches for the rest of us."

"Amroth and Della are on their way back," Glorfindel said. "I called them earlier. If they left within a half an hour of my call, they may still be able to get here by tonight."

"I’ll rearrange the schedule to include them, then. As it is, unless you want to bring Derek back here, someone has to remain at Edhellond at all times. Otherwise, I think it would be wiser to just shut the place down and have everyone move here for the duration."

"Who’s at the mansion now?"

"Holly, Sarah and Ron. Everyone else is here helping with clearing the snow on the walkways between certain buildings. College maintenance is setting up a series of guide ropes for people to use if they need to move from one building to another."

"Classes will be canceled," Glorfindel said with a frown.

"But people still have to eat and I think they’re planning to keep the student center and library open so people don’t suffer too much from cabin fever. Maintenance will have its hands full keeping the walkways cleared if this snow continues falling at the rate it is."

"That ice storm is coming and it will make things worse. In the meantime, I’ve made up a to-do list to prepare ourselves for any eventuality. First thing I want is for people to do their laundry. There are a limited number of machines, so people will have to sign up to use them. If they can, have roommates combine their laundry to save time. Some people may only have a few things to wash if they did laundry earlier but we want people to have as many clean clothes as possible because if we lose power no one will be doing laundry."

"Makes sense. Anything else?"

"Remind everyone to charge their electronics — laptops, phones, MP3 players, e-readers, whatever." Daeron nodded. "Boredom is as much an enemy as the snow," Glorfindel continued. "To that end, we need to organize games and mini-courses to keep the children amused. I was hoping Zach could come in but he called me this morning to tell me he’s at Nicole’s helping her out. Seems all four children are down with the Norovirus."

"That’s rough. I’m glad Zach is there for her, but we’re in luck because Jud is here."

Glorfindel smiled. "Is he now? Well that’s the first bit of good news I’ve had all day. Where is he?"

"At the moment he’s crunching numbers for me, doing an inventory of all our supplies, such as toilet paper and cleaning solutions and the like."

"When he’s done with that, ask him to start organizing games that people can play in small groups. I know there is an entire shelf of board games in the game room, but if he can come up with other ideas that would help. We should also offer classes as well. I’m thinking hands-on stuff rather than having them sit there listening to a lecture. If they are physically occupied with a task, they shouldn’t feel quite as bored."

"Any suggestions?"

Glorfindel gave him a sly grin. "Well, I was thinking basketweaving, but I don’t think we have the necessary supplies."

"Basketweaving?"

"Hey, if it was good enough for Finrod, it’s good enough for us," Glorfindel replied with a laugh. "Unfortunately, I haven’t a clue as to how to make one."

"And how is it that the King of Nargothrond knows how to weave baskets?" Daeron asked with an amused smile on his lips.

"It was part of his... um... occupational therapy, as they would say today, after he was re-embodied."

"Ah, I see. Well, I know Holly has plenty of wood and such for bow-making. Perhaps we can have classes in that."

"It’s certainly an option. Talk to the others and see what you can come up with. The more activities we can offer, and make mandatory, the less likely people will snap because they are forced to remain indoors."

Daeron nodded. "Do you want us all to move here or should some of us stay at the mansion?"

"No, I would prefer everyone to come here. Let them know. I’ll call Ron. He can get Derek ready. The rest of us will have to go in shifts to bring back any extra clothing and such. I’ll ask Holly to empty out the kitchen and bring everything here. I’m sure Grace would welcome the extra supplies, especially staples."

"I’ll get right on it," Daeron said. "With regards to laundry, if we’re to let everyone have a go at it before we lose power, some people will have to be doing theirs in the middle of the night."

"Well, these are college students," Glorfindel said with a thin smile. "Most of them are used to being up at all hours. And with classes cancelled, they can sleep in. I doubt if anyone will complain."

"You’re right there," Daeron said with a chuckle. "I’ll let you get back to work."

"Actually, I’m on my way out. I’m going to stop at the clinic and check on Alex and then go on home and pack my own bag. I’ll grab a bite there and then go on to the meeting, so you’re in charge until I get back. Hopefully the meeting won’t last too long, but with Mortals, you never know. They have a penchant for dragging things out."

"Tell me about it. All right. I’ll make sure no one’s moved the Academy while you’re gone."

Glorfindel chuckled as the two left the office and went their separate ways.

****

Alex was fast asleep when Glorfindel arrived at the clinic, so he didn’t stay long, just long enough to get an update on the Man’s condition and then he headed home, making his way across the campus, ignoring the guide ropes that were the only indications of where the walkways were. His only concession to the weather was a fleece-lined jacket, but he wore no gloves or hat. He made good time and was at the mansion after about a half an hour. He found Ercassë and Serindë busily emptying out the pantries, as well as the fridge and freezer.

"We’re going to put the freezable things into an ice chest," Ercassë informed him, "and Ron will load it on a sled along with the rest of our supplies."

"Where’s Derek?" Glorfindel asked.

"Helping Ron. He claimed to be feeling much better after sleeping most of the day. The two of them are shuttering windows and turning off the water so the pipes don’t burst. Everyone’s been here to pick up personal items except for Barry, but he should be here soon enough. Amroth and Della, of course, aren’t here."

"But they will be sometime tonight, I hope," Glorfindel said, "so we need to keep the place open until they get here."

"It’s going to take several trips to get everything we need over to the Academy so I don’t think we’ll be shutting the place up too soon. One of us can remain here until they arrive and fill them in with what’s happening."

"I have a meeting in a couple of hours, so I’m going to pack my bag. Can you see that it gets to my office?"

"Sure. No problem."

"So now the only question is Derek and how do we get him back to the college," Glorfindel said with a sigh.

"I asked Ron about it and he said he had it all figured out and not to worry," Ercassë told him.

"Then I won’t. Well, I’d best leave you to your work," Glorfindel said, leaving the kitchen and making his way to his room. He encountered Vorondur in the hallway and took a few minutes to update the ellon. "Don’t worry about Derek," Vorondur said. "It’s all been arranged."

"Thanks. In the meantime, let everyone know that as soon as I get back from my meeting, I want to hold our own meeting to address various situations. Have Daeron set one of the classrooms up for us. We’ll meet around ten. I’m hoping Amroth and Della will be back by then."

"Will do," Vorondur said and the two ellyn departed.

****

The meeting with the other administrators was not as long as Glorfindel feared it would be. Richard Martina, the college president, did not suffer fools gladly and kept the discussion on point, refusing to allow people to wander from the subject at hand. He was aided by Sheriff Carl Graff who gave them a run-down on the situation in town.

"All roads are closed, and unless you have minors or elderly family members depending on you, we are encouraging faculty and staff to stay where they are and help keep order among the students."

"I plan to organize everyone into teams with responsibility for certain buildings," Martina said. "Unlike most community colleges, we have a substantial student population that lives on-campus simply because of our remote location, which means that I want coordination between faculty and the resident assistants to ensure calm among the students."

When Glorfindel told them what plans he had already instigated for the Academy, Martina gave him a nod of approval.

"Thank you, Loren. Obviously you’ve had experience in this kind of thing before."

"Being besieged by snow isn’t much different from being besieged by an army: you still end up not being able to go anywhere," he said with a slight smile.

Eventually, the meeting came to an end with everyone knowing what was expected of them. As they were leaving the conference room, Glorfindel remained behind to speak with Martina and Graff. "All the Elves are or will soon be at the Academy. If at any time you feel a situation is getting out of control, call me or Daeron and we’ll send someone over to help."

"I appreciate that, Loren," Martina said with a grateful look and Graff also nodded in approval. "We have no idea how long this storm will last and tempers will become frayed soon enough."

"Even more so with an ice storm on its way," Glorfindel said.

"Ice storm?" Martina asked. "Are you sure? I haven’t heard anything about it and I’ve had the weather station turned on all day."

"Me neither," Graff added, frowning.

"It’ll be here by Thursday morning," Glorfindel assured them and both Men knew enough about the ways of Elves not to question his statement.

"That’s all we need, ice on top of snow," Graff said with a sigh of disgust. "That’s just going to make things worse."

"Perhaps, but there’s little we can do about it, unless you have the ability to wish the entire town of Wiseman to Tahiti."

Both Men laughed. "Don’t I wish," Graff said. "Okay. I’ll let everyone know about the ice storm so they can prepare. Some won’t heed my warning, though."

"That’s not your problem, but you might stress the fact that the last time someone ignored a warning given by one of us you had several students and townspeople out in another blizzard."

Both Men grimaced at that recollection. "Please don’t remind me. I still have nightmares about that," Martina said.

Glorfindel nodded. "So do I," he said and took his leave.

****

Returning to the Academy, Glorfindel was pleased to see that the place was bustling with activity. Students were rushing about laughing and consulting one another in groups of two or three before rushing off again. Glorfindel made his way to his office dodging the students.

"What’s going on?" he asked when he saw Elrohir walking towards him.

"Blame Jud," the ellon said with a broad smile. "As soon as Daeron told him about games, he immediately created a scavenger hunt, taking odd objects that he found and hiding them and coming up with clues. Then at dinner he made an announcement and as soon as they were done eating, those who weren’t doing laundry or are still sick in bed, have been running around hunting for the clues. They’ve been at it for quite a while."

"And this is just the first day," Glorfindel said, smiling as he watched a couple of co-eds running down the hall giggling, clutching at scraps of paper.

"Don’t worry," Elrohir assured him with a grin, "Jud won’t be running out of ideas soon. You should see the list of games he’s already compiled."

Glorfindel chuckled. "A pity Brethorn isn’t here."

"Who?"

"A Reborn with a penchant for playing games while stuck inside during a blizzard. Long story, and I wasn’t even there at the time. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about it."

"I look forward to hearing it," Elrohir said. "It’s rare that you speak of Valinor and your life there."

Glorfindel shook his head. "My life is here now with you and your brother and our friends."

"But you still miss it, or rather you miss certain people."

"Yes, of course. That goes without saying, but it’s no different than you missing your parents. You and Dan could have gone West at any time, but you didn’t and I had vowed that I would remain with you until you were ready to take the Straight Road. Now enough. We have a blizzard and an ice storm to contend with. Which room is our meeting in?"

"Room one-oh-three," Elrohir answered.

"Good. I see we still have thirty minutes, so I’m going to go freshen up a bit. I’ll see you there."

Elrohir nodded. "Oh, by the way, you’ll never guess how Ron got Derek back here."

"Yes, I was meaning to ask. So, just how did he do it?"

"Called up Paul Pettingill who came over on his snowmobile and gave Derek a ride, so he never saw any of us walking on the snow as we lugged supplies over here."

Glorfindel smiled. "Clever. I should’ve thought of that." Elrohir took his leave and Glorfindel stopped at his office long enough to grab a toiletry bag out of the haversack that was on a chair and went in search of the nearest men’s bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, he was heading for the meeting room and found almost everyone already there, including Vorondur. Only Ercassë and Serindë were missing for they were still at the mansion waiting for the arrival of Amroth and Della. A few minutes later, Elladan and Elrohir showed up and Glorfindel called the meeting to order.

"First of all, thank you for being willing to give up the comforts of your own beds during this crisis."

"It’s not as if we’ve not been down this road before," Elladan said with a shrug.

"Yes, I know, but I just felt it necessary to show you my appreciation for all that you’ve done. Second, Alex is doing much better and Dr. Lawrence assured me that, barring any complications, he should be able to return here in a matter of days."

"That is good news," Gilvegil said with a smile and others nodded in agreement.

"Thirdly, thank you for thinking to have Paul bring Derek back here via snowmobile, Ron. That was clever thinking on your part."

"The Rangers have been deputized by the mayor to help the police maintain order," Vorondur said. "I happened to be talking with Paul about it and mentioned our dilemma. He was the one to suggest he bring Derek back."

"And where is Derek staying?" Glorfindel asked Daeron. "I don’t think his room is ready yet, is it?"

"No, and it won’t be for a couple of days," Daeron answered. "In the meantime, he and Jud are bunking together in the reading room. Luckily, one of the required pieces of equipment we asked everyone to bring was a sleeping bag. Jud is borrowing Alex’s for the time being."

"That’ll be fine," Glorfindel said. "If necessary, I’ll ask John to keep Alex at the clinic until this is all blown over. He’ll at least have a bed to sleep in and the clinic has its own generator, so if we lose power, they’ll be okay."

Everyone nodded in agreement and Glorfindel continued.

"Carl Graff was also at the administrators' meeting and it is pretty much what we’ve been told: Wiseman is under lock-down until further notice. There’s a curfew on and Richard is going to enforce it here on campus as well. I told him and Carl that if they need us to help they only have to call."

The others nodded again. "Jud is organizing the games and activities," Daeron said, "and so far, people are responding positively. He also came up with the idea of having people stay with anyone who is sick so that they don’t feel isolated. To that end, he’s forming a care brigade, as he calls it, whereby a person visits with a sick person, bringing games or books or music while their roommate gets a break to do their own thing for a while. It seems to be popular with the students, especially those who’ve been sick and are now recovered."

"This doesn’t solve the problem of keeping infection down though," Glorfindel said. "People can reinfect one another."

"True," Daeron averred, "but as Jud told me, since there’s no way to escape from it, it’s best to simply keep on keeping on and hope for the best and I agree. If worse comes to worst, we will be nursing them all at some point or another, but there are people who won’t get the virus or suffer only minor symptoms and they will be able to help out when others are incapacitated."

"Then we will worry about that if and when it happens," Glorfindel said. "What about classes? Any ideas of what we can offer?"

"And there’s where Jud came to the rescue again," Daeron said with a fond smile for his assistant. "He came up with a questionnaire for students to fill out asking for their preferences in terms of different activities that might be offered. They’re on my desk now waiting to be tabulated. Knowing what the students would like to see should help us plan better and insure that what we offer will be well received."

"Good, then I think we’re in pretty good order. We just have to wait and see how badly this ice storm hits. As long as we’ve prepared for the worst and hoped for the best, I think we’ll make it through this. What about....?"

He was interrupted by the door opening and everyone looked to see Ercassë and Serindë with Amroth and Nimrodel. "Are we late?" Amroth asked with a smile.

"No, you’re just in time," Glorfindel said with a smile. "We’re just about finished here and I was about to suggest that we go to the cafeteria and see if Roy would make us some of his famous hot chocolate."

"I’m willing," Elrohir said. "Let’s go."

"Sorry to ruin your honeymoon," Glorfindel said as everyone filed out of the classroom. "Although you don’t look particularly upset about being called back here so soon."

Both Amroth and Nimrodel started laughing. Glorfindel stopped, giving them a puzzled look and everyone else gathered around them. "Was it something I said?"

Nimrodel giggled and Amroth smirked. "No. It’s just that we have some news of our own."

"And that would be what exactly?" Glorfindel asked with narrowed eyes.

Amroth wrapped his arms around Nimrodel, kissing her lightly on the forehead before answering Glorfindel’s question. "Can’t you tell? Della is with child and we think it might be twins."

****

Note: Glorfindel mentioning Brethorn and the blizzard is in reference to events in Elf, Interrupted: Book Two, chapter 125.

34: The Ice Storm Cometh

The ellith all squealed with delight at the news and went to hug Nimrodel while the ellyn, with the exception of Glorfindel, all had huge grins on their faces and were heartily congratulating Amroth. Glorfindel just stood there, not seeing the scene around him, not hearing the happy voices.

Twins...twins...twins....

It was Daeron who suddenly noticed that Glorfindel was the only one not offering his congratulations.

"Glorfindel? Are you all right, mellon nîn?"

Twins...twins...twins....

"Mae govannen, Glorfindel. These are Elurín and Eluréd. They’ve recently arrived. They could use a good friend. Would you like to be their friend... their friend...their friend...."

"What’s wrong with him?" Serindë asked.

Elrohir stepped in front of his captain, seeing the blankness in Glorfindel’s eyes. He glanced at Elladan and his twin nodded, recognizing the signs. "I think he’s lost in a memory," Elladan said.

"Glorfindel, Á cuiva oloretyallo!" Elrohir commanded in a ringing voice.

"Oh yes. That is, if it’s all right with you two....you two....two...two...."

"It doesn’t seem to be working," Alphwen commented, her concern mirrored in the faces of the others.

"He’s too deep in the memory," Vorondur said. "Has this happened before and do you know what triggers it?"

"Come. Let’s play...play...play...play...."

"I remember it happening once or twice when we were living in Imladris," Elladan replied, "but not like this. Glorfindel? Captain, can you hear me? Damn, I wish Ada were here. He was always able to bring him out of his fugues."

There was a flurry of lights and the scent of apples and mint and then Fionwë was in their midst, his expression worried. The Elves all stood back to give the Maia room as he took Glorfindel into his embrace. "Where have you fled to, child?" he asked gently.

Before anyone could question the Maia as to what he meant, there was another more blinding flurry of incandescent light and then to everyone’s utter shock, Námo was there in their midst. The Vala ignored them, his attention solely on Glorfindel still in Fionwë’s embrace.

"He seems to be suffering a psychic break," the Maia said to Námo. "I thought he was cured of it, but I see he’s not wearing the ring you gave him, lord."

"You mean the peridot and citrine ring?" Daeron asked.

At Námo’s nod, Elrohir spoke. "He wears it on a chain around his neck. Unless it’s a wedding band, wearing rings has gone out of fashion with the males of this society. As far as I know, he never takes it off."

Námo sighed. "He needs to actually be wearing it for it to work." He reached out and unbuttoned Glorfindel’s shirt to reveal a thin gold chain. He carefully unclasped it and took the chain in his hands, letting the ring slide off and, taking Glorfindel’s right hand, slipped it onto his ring finger. Then he covered Glorfindel’s eyes with his hand and crooned something soft and in a language none of them recognized, not even Daeron, and the Elves stood in wonder, dimly coming to the realization that they were hearing the ancient language of the Valar themselves, a language that pre-dated all of their histories.

At first, nothing seemed to happen and then Glorfindel gave a gasp and a shudder. Námo removed his hand and stepped back while Fionwë continued holding the Elf who was blinking as if waking from a dream. He looked at Námo with a stricken expression.

"Twins," he whispered. "They’re expecting twins. That’s all I bloody need." And then, to the utter shock and dismay of the other Elves, he fainted.

Fionwë lifted Glorfindel in his arms, giving Námo an amused look, which the Vala shared. "Let’s find someplace private for our little balrog-slayer, shall we?" Námo said.

Fionwë nodded. "I’ll take him to his office and make him comfortable."

The other Elves parted to give him room even as Námo was congratulating Amroth and Nimrodel and assuring them all that Glorfindel would be fine once he had some sleep. "Do not be concerned. He will be well. Now, did I hear someone mention hot chocolate?"

****

Glorfindel woke to darkness, wondering what had happened. He could tell that he was in his office, but beyond that, he had no memory of how he’d gotten there. The last thing he remembered was Amroth and Nimrodel arriving and everyone heading for the cafeteria for some hot chocolate. He struggled to a sitting position, only then realizing that he was lying on a fold-away cot that was shoved between the desk and the door, leaving very little room for maneuvering.

"Ah… awake at last."

Glorfindel blinked to see Lord Námo sitting behind the desk, apparently reading something from the computer screen.

"What happened?" Glorfindel asked as he climbed off the cot and stood, stretching.

"You had an… episode," Námo said, switching off the computer, thus plunging them into further darkness. Neither bothered to turn on a light. Glorfindel simply stood there staring at the Vala.

"That hasn’t happened in… in ages," he said meekly.

"You actually need to be wearing the ring on your finger in order for its properties to work," Námo said, standing. "I am told it is no longer the fashion for males to wear rings, other than wedding bands, but I think you should continue wearing this particular ring from now on. I really don’t want to have to keep retrieving you from the Past." He gave the Elf a significant look. "Do we understand each other?"

Glorfindel nodded and Námo smiled. "Good," he said. "And now that you’re awake, you may wish to go and reassure your friends that all is well with you. I’ve lingered here long enough." With that he faded from sight. Glorfindel wasn’t too surprised when the cot disappeared as well. Resisting a sigh, he left the office to go in search of the others. He didn’t have to look far; Daeron and the Twins were coming down the hall.

"Are you all right?" Daeron asked, giving him a worried look. "We were just about to check on you."

"Yes, I’m fine," Glorfindel replied. "Sorry about that."

"Don’t ever do that again, mellon nîn," Daeron demanded. "If I were Mortal, I swear my hair would’ve turned white from the fright you gave us."

Glorfindel couldn’t help smiling. "I’ll try not to do it again," he said. "What’s been happening while I’ve been… er… sleeping."

"Well, most of the children are abed," Daeron answered. "There are a few who are still up doing laundry and a bunch of them discovered a Monopoly board so they’re happily ensconced in the game room buying up real estate and swapping tall tales about their latest sexual conquests. Jud is playing with them."

Glorfindel snorted in amusement. "And Derek? How is he doing?"

"Derek crashed an hour ago and is sound asleep in the reading room," Elladan answered.

"What about our people?" Glorfindel enquired.

"They’re in the cafeteria," Elrohir replied with a grin. "They’re still trying to get used to the idea of elflings on the way."

"Not to mention seeing a Vala sipping hot chocolate and expounding on the proper way to process cocoa beans," Elladan added with a laugh.

"Lord Námo liked my recipe," Elrohir said shyly.

Glorfindel gave the younger ellon a hug. "If everything is under control for the moment, then, why don’t we join our friends in the cafeteria? I’d like some of your hot chocolate myself, assuming there’s any left."

"Sounds good to me," Daeron said and the Twins nodded in agreement.

****

As they entered the cafeteria, Glorfindel was surprised to see Fionwë sitting with the other Elves. The Maia was the first to notice their entrance and stood, giving them a wide smile. "Feeling better?" he asked solicitously.

Glorfindel nodded, but did not answer. Instead he walked over to where Amroth and Nimrodel were sitting. "I offer you my congratulations on your good news," he said somewhat stiffly.

Amroth raised an eyebrow. "Your enthusiasm is rather underwhelming."

"Sorry. I think I’m still in shock. Babies are the last thing on my mind right now."

"Well, you have a whole year to get used to the idea," Nimrodel said with a sniff.

Glorfindel allowed a small smile to reach his lips. "I really am happy for you both. To have children added unto you is a blessing and when this present crisis is over we will have a proper celebration."

Both Amroth and Nimrodel appeared to be mollified by his words. Elrohir, meanwhile, had gone into the kitchen and now came out with a tray of mugs filled with hot chocolate, passing them out to those that did not have any. He took his own mug and lifted it. "A toast to new life," he said and they all raised their mugs before drinking.

Afterwards, as they sat around the table, Glorfindel told them something about why he had blanked out as he had. "When you mentioned twins, I was suddenly back in Mandos where I met the twin sons of Dior. I was instrumental in helping them find peace. I’m not sure why my memories took me back to that time. I rarely recall what happened while I was in Mandos. There’s no real sense of time passing and what memories I have are jumbled up."

"I’m just sorry that our news upset you as it did," Amroth said. "It certainly wasn’t our intent."

"Of course not, nor do I blame you. I blame myself. Now, why don’t we change the subject?"

"You promised you would tell me about this Brethorn person and a blizzard when you were in Aman," Elrohir said.

Glorfindel nodded. "Then I guess this is as good a time as any. Mind you, I wasn’t there myself. I was with Eärendil and Elwing and I only heard about it afterwards from Finrod and some others. To give you some background, there was some unrest in Aman, a lot of tension between those who never left Aman and those who did and were now returned and living on Tol Eressëa or were reborn. Anyway, to help resolve certain issues, an All-Aman Council was called for and held in Valmar, courtesy of the Valar, who hosted the council. Unfortunately, there was some upset at one of the meetings and the council was dismissed until everyone cooled off. The Valar decided to take matters into their own hands and extended the cool-off period with a blizzard that was quite localized...."

Fionwë, standing away from where the Elves were sitting, watched with amusement as Glorfindel regaled them with his tale about the events surrounding the first All-Aman Council and slowly faded, satisfied that one more crisis had been weathered, knowing that there were many more to come. No one noticed when he disappeared.

****

The kitchen staff was startled to find the Elves sitting at the table in the cafeteria when they arrived in the early morning hours to start breakfast. Most of them had ended up bunking in the student center where the college administration had put up cots in several meeting rooms for staff members unable to go home. None of them looked particularly rested, but they started preparing breakfast with the same efficiency as always under Grace’s watchful eyes. The Elves decided to simply stay where they were and wait for the cafeteria to open to the students.

"We’re celebrating," Glorfindel told Grace when she came over to ask why they were all up so early. "We’ve actually been here all night drinking hot chocolate and swapping stories."

"And what are we celebrating?" the Woman asked with a smile.

"In one year, our little family will be increased by two," Glorfindel answered. "Della’s expecting twins."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Grace said, giving the elleth a warm hug. "Baby showers! I’ll have to start planning for them."

"Whoa!" Amroth exclaimed with a laugh. "We’ve got a whole year before we need to worry about that."

"Nonsense," Grace said with a sniff of disdain. "Men! What do they know?" And she went back to the kitchen to supervise her staff.

All the ellith started laughing while the ellyn sat there looking rather bemused. "You might consider looking for your own home," Glorfindel said after a moment, "unless you would prefer to remain at Edhellond. We can probably remodel some of the bedrooms into an apartment for you and the children."

"It’s something that will need to be considered, of course," Amroth said. "Let’s table it for now, though. We can explore our options after the New Year."

"Well, once breakfast is done with, we need to organize the students," Glorfindel said. "Let’s continue with the Sindarin and history classes and intersperse them with games and hands-on workshops."

"Physical activity is probably the best way to stave off boredom," Vorondur said with a nod. "Can we clear one or two of the classrooms and use them as gyms? I’m thinking we can requisition some mats from the phys. ed. building and continue with our self-defense classes, but encourage everyone, even those who aren’t taking it, to join in."

"Dan and I can look into that," Elrohir said.

"Actually, if you don’t mind, I would rather you two, along with Misty and Della, check on the students who are still down with the virus. Obviously, the virus has to run its course, but perhaps between your healing abilities and the ellith’s herbal remedies, you can at least alleviate some of their misery."

"No problem, and we can get an update on who’s sick and who isn’t," Elrohir said.

"Good. Ron, Conan and Amroth can go to the gym and get the mats and anything else they think we can use. Barry, why don’t you organize the Sindarin classes while Alpha organizes the history classes. Assign students to certain classes to meet at certain times during the day. We’ll hold these classes every day for the duration, that way they still have a routine of study so they don’t get out of the habit. Even if we lose power, we can still hold these classes."

The others nodded in agreement and they continued fleshing out ideas for keeping the students occupied for however long they might be snowed-in. As they continued their discussion, the cafeteria opened for breakfast and they were the first in line. Jud and Derek showed up and joined them at the table.

"How was the Monopoly game?" Glorfindel asked Jud.

"Well, I’d like to say I cleaned up, but that would be lying," Jud replied. "But I had fun and so did everyone else. We finally packed it in around three, I think. I’m only awake because my stomach insists that it’s time to be fed even though all I really want to do is sleep the day away."

"Well, have some breakfast and then go back to bed," Daeron said with a smile. "If you want privacy, you can use my office."

"Thanks, I just might do that," Jud said.

"How are you faring, Derek?" Elrohir asked the young man.

"Better," Derek replied. "I think I’m pretty much over it. Last night was the first night I was able to sleep through, but I’m still feeling a bit weak around the knees. Climbing the stairs wore me out."

"Then, I suggest you occupy yourself with quiet pursuits, such as reading or playing a board game," Elrohir said and Derek agreed with him.

"How long do you think we’re going to be stuck here?" Jud asked.

"Longer than most are expecting," Glorfindel replied. "Apparently we’re due for an ice storm. Reports say it should hit sometime today or early tomorrow. We may lose power. The Academy has a couple of generators, but they are designed to provide power for the cafeteria more than anything else."

"So, if we lose power, does that mean we’ll be holding classes by candlelight or flashlight?" Derek asked with a frown. "Candles can be a problem. How often do you read of people accidently setting their houses on fire because of an unattended candle?"

"We need to be vigilant about that," Glorfindel replied. "Darren, have a general announcement made that any student found with a candle will be summarily dismissed from the Academy, no exceptions. In fact, we should confiscate any candles the students may have to avoid the temptation of lighting them."

"A bit harsh, don’t you think?" Holly asked.

But Glorfindel shook his head, looking stern. "Wiseman is under martial law and that includes the college and this Academy. A hundred years ago or so, it wouldn’t have been a problem. People still used candles and oil lamps to light their homes and knew how to handle them properly. That’s not the case today. I don’t want someone being careless and we end up standing outside watching the building go up in flames in the middle of a blizzard and ice storm."

"We can collect candles and make sure there’s a flashlight in every room as we visit the sick," Elladan suggested and Glorfindel gave his approval.

"Have you heard anything about Alex?" Derek asked then.

"He was resting comfortably according to the nurse when I called earlier," Daeron answered. "If he continues to improve, he should be released by the weekend, though, if this storm continues, they may just keep him there for the duration."

"So, if we have our agenda for the day, let’s get to it," Glorfindel said, standing, and the others followed suit.

****

Thus, the day progressed. The snow had finally stopped long enough for Maintenance to be able to start plowing again. Schedules were created for lessons and games and such and the students adapted themselves to the new regimen. There were a few grumbles about having to participate in games, but most were happy enough to do whatever they were asked to do by the Elves to stave off the inevitable boredom of not being able to go anywhere.

Sometime in the evening, after the dinner hour, the predicted ice storm arrived, plunging temperatures into the minuses. The wind howled around the building and the lights flickered several times, though they never went completely out.

"So far, so good," Daeron said to Glorfindel as the two stood in the cafeteria looking out one of the windows as the storm blew around them.

"Don’t hold your breath," Glorfindel warned. "This is just the beginning. Things will get worse before they get better."

As if to underscore his words, there was an audible crack and they watched in dismay as several branches of a pine tree which they could see from where they were standing suddenly broke under the weight of snow and ice. Even from a distance the two Elves could sense the tree’s pain and they both grimaced.

"Let’s hope we don’t lose too many trees to this," Glorfindel muttered. Daeron could only nod, unable to muster up a response.

****

Ice quickly formed on the windows, blocking people’s view and there was the constant sound of ice pellets hitting the roof. Around ten the lights flickered, went out, flickered back on for another second and then went out again and stayed out. The Elves immediately went into action. Vorondur and Barry went to start the generators while the others scattered to designated areas where the students had been instructed to meet if the power went so a head count could be made. Even when power came back on fifteen minutes later, no one was permitted to leave until everyone had been accounted for. As the Elves were ready to dismiss the students back to their rooms, however, the power went out again, much to the dismay of all.

Meanwhile, Glorfindel was in communication with the college administration, checking in to assure the officials that everything at the Academy was under control. The generators, when they kicked in a couple of minutes later, offered enough power to provide lighting in the hallways but nowhere else. Most of the power was routed to the cafeteria so there would always be hot water and food for the students.

As soon as Glorfindel was satisfied that all the students had been accounted for, he ordered them to report to the cafeteria with sleeping bags and toiletries and anything they cared to bring to keep themselves amused since it was now the only place that had heat. The Elves stationed themselves to help any who needed it. Those who were still sick were told to remain in their rooms for now. There had been some debate about where to put them and under other circumstances they would have been brought to the cafeteria, but in the end it was decided to place them in the upper lounge areas on either side of the cafeteria which were nearer to the bathrooms. The Elves had spent part of the day covering the windows with heavy blankets to help insulate the rooms.

Once the other students were settling themselves in the cafeteria, the Elves helped the sick to the lounges, with the female students in the one closest to their wing and the male students on the other side of the cafeteria, bringing their mattresses and bedding with them, as well as their sleeping bags, so as to make them as comfortable as possible.

Elrohir and Elladan then went around and sent them into healing sleep. They would take turns checking on the sick throughout the night.

Most of those in the cafeteria settled down to sleep, though a few huddled together and talked softly or occupied themselves with reading by flashlight while the Elves stood watch. Daeron walked between the sleeping bags, softly singing, sending forth his power as a minstrel to encourage sleep and by midnight only the Elves were awake. Elrohir returned from checking on the sick students.

"One case of vomiting," he reported to Glorfindel as the two wandered through the halls, stretching their legs, "but otherwise it’s pretty quiet. Dan is staying with the men and Sarah is watching over the women."

Glorfindel nodded as they came to the stairs and headed down to the ground floor where they checked out the various common rooms, making sure all was well. "We seem to be doing all right for the moment. Barry, Conan, Amroth and Gil are outside checking for any structural damage from the ice. Holly, Alpha, Daisy and Misty are in the kitchen concocting some herbal remedies that they hope will help keep everyone more or less healthy. Della and Darren are somewhere working out additional contingency plans and Ron’s checking on the generators."

"Looks as if we have things well in hand," Elrohir said with a nod of approval. "You want some coffee or anything? I’m going to make a pot for any who wants some."

"Not at the moment, thanks," Glorfindel said. "I’m going to go check with Darren and….What was that?"

The two Elves held themselves to stillness, listening.

"There it is again," Glorfindel said. "It sounds like pounding."

"It’s coming from the front," Elrohir said and the two Elves ran to the foyer where they saw someone leaning against the door weakly pounding on the glass. In the dark, with the snow swirling around, they could not see who it was at first. Glorfindel opened the door and the person stumbled into the building, collapsing onto the floor. Glorfindel shut the door and turned to see Elrohir kneeling over the person, gently turning him over, giving a gasp as he recognized who it was.

"Pui-in-orch!" Glorfindel muttered as he stared down at Alex’s unconscious form. "How did he get here?"

****

Á cuiva oloretyallo: (Quenya) ‘Awake from your dream/vision’.

35: The Storm Continues

Elrohir wasted no time. Even as he was checking for a pulse, he was pulling out his cell phone and in seconds he was speaking to his brother.

"It’s Alex. He’s here and he’s suffering from hypothermia and possibly frostbite... Don’t ask. I’m with Glorfindel. We’re in the foyer. Meet me in the men’s bathroom nearest to the cafeteria and have someone find blankets. Lots of them. We’re on our way."

With that, he closed down the phone and lifted the Man in his arms and set off with Glorfindel tailing behind, speaking into his own phone.

"He’s here at the Academy, John... No, I have no idea how he managed to leave the clinic in full view of everyone. I don’t even know how he made it back here in this storm... Roy and Dan are taking care of him... Yes, I think you can cancel the code silver for patient elopement." He chuckled at whatever Lawrence said to him. "I’ll call you in the morning with an update. Good night." He shut down his phone. "How is he?" he asked Elrohir.

"He’s barely breathing. He may not make it."

"I sincerely hope he does, if only so I can have the extreme pleasure of killing him myself."

Elrohir gave him a grin of understanding. As they neared the cafeteria they saw Elladan and Amroth running towards them. Elladan’s expression was shuttered, his emotions under control, fully in healer-mode, listening to his brother rattle off medical information. Amroth’s expression was one of concern and worry and Glorfindel realized that the former king of Laurinand genuinely cared for the young Man, perhaps even thought of him as a son, much as Elrond had done with Estel. He had a sudden insight into the Elf’s life, the isolation and loneliness he must have felt, believing he was the last of his kind, forced to live a life not of his choosing, but making the best of it. And then, one Artemus Gordon Meriwether comes into his life, a connection is somehow made and perhaps for the first time in millennia Amroth allows himself to care... to love. Looking on, seeing Amroth hover over his former protégé like any worried father, Glorfindel felt nothing but heartfelt compassion for his fellow Elf and for the child who hovered between life and death. Without thinking about it, he gathered Amroth in his arms and hugged him fiercely as Roy and Dan continued toward the bathroom.

"He’s going to be all right," he said softly in Amroth’s ear. "Let Roy and Dan do their job. We’ll need blankets."

"Della’s gathering them," Amroth answered, his eyes watching the Twins as they entered the bathroom. Glorfindel hugged him again and Amroth turned his attention to the former balrog slayer. "How did he get here?"

"The Belain only know," Glorfindel replied with a deep sigh. "I spoke with Dr. Lawrence. Somehow Alex was able to sneak out of the clinic in full view of everyone. If he were an Elf, I could almost understand it, but he’s a Mortal."

Amroth flashed him a grin. "He’s a Mortal who’s been trained in espionage, in getting in and getting out of tight spots. No one noticed him because he didn’t wish for them to. He knows how to blend in. And don’t forget, I trained him."

Glorfindel started to comment but Nimrodel’s arrival interrupted his thoughts. She was carrying several blankets. Amroth took them from her, giving her a kiss and then headed for the bathroom, leaving Glorfindel with his wife.

"How is he?" Nimrodel asked Glorfindel.

"We don’t know. Roy says he’s hypothermic and there’s possible frostbite. We’ll just have to hope and pray that they will be able to get his body temperature up."

"It’s Amroth I’m worried about," the elleth said with an anxious look.

"Oh?"

"He looks on Alex as the son he never had," she replied. "I think he cares for him more than he let’s on."

Glorfindel nodded. "I came to the same conclusion myself. I’m sure everything will be all right. Alex is one stubborn Mortal and I have the feeling Lord Námo isn’t going to be pleased to see him cluttering up his doorstep again so soon." He gave her a wicked smile and she giggled.

Amroth came out just then and joined them. "They’ve managed to bring his body temperature up but now he seems to be burning with fever. Roy thinks he was suffering from it when he made his... er... escape. It’s possible that he wasn’t thinking straight when he left, that the fever affected his judgment. Anyway, Roy says we need to bring the fever down as quickly as possible."

"I’ll go find Misty," Nimrodel said. "We have a tea of sallow bark and yellow gentian root that should help."

Amroth nodded. "We need more blankets, or better, a sleeping bag so we can contain him."

"I’ll see what I can find," Nimrodel said, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek, and left.

Glorfindel hugged Amroth again. "It’s going to be all right, Amroth. Alex is in the best of hands. The sons of Elrond were well taught in the healing arts by their father."

"He looked so pale and... I felt so... helpless," Amroth said mournfully.

"I can’t tell you the number of times I felt the same way when the Twins would be injured and all I could do was to stand by and watch while Elrond or one of the other healers worked to save their lives."

"How did he ever make it back here in this storm?" Amroth wondered. "The last readings I saw said it was minus seven with a wind-chill of about minus thirty and falling. He wasn’t even properly dressed. It’s a wonder he’s not suffering from extreme frostbite. He could easily have lost fingers and toes."

"I have no answers for you, mellon nîn," Glorfindel said. "We can only thank the Belain that he did not suffer more than he has."

Just then, Elrohir came out of the bathroom, holding the door open for his twin as Elladan carried a still unconscious Alex in his arms. He was wrapped in several blankets and only his head was uncovered.

"Della’s making some tea for the fever," Amroth said without preamble as they made their way down the corridor to the cafeteria. "She’s hunting up an extra sleeping bag as well."

"Good," Elrohir said. "The sooner we get this fever down, the better."

They entered the cafeteria, weaving their way between the sleeping forms of the students and went into the kitchen. "Let’s clear this counter," Roy said, pointing to a long table that was situated in the middle of the room and used for preparing dishes. Glorfindel joined him in clearing the table of kitchen supplies. Mithrellas, who was already there making the tea, came over and washed the surface down with hot soapy water, then dried it before they placed the young Man on it. Amroth, meanwhile, had gone back into the cafeteria and returned with a pillow for Alex’s head. Nimrodel entered behind him with an armload of blankets. Derek and Jud were with her. Jud held out a sleeping bag to Glorfindel.

"This is Alex’s. I was borrowing it."

"Is he going to be all right?" Derek asked almost at the same time.

"We’re doing our best to help him," Roy answered, taking the sleeping bag from Jud. "Now I suggest you two leave. Alex doesn’t need an audience and we are still working on him."

Both Mortals were reluctant to leave, but Nimrodel took them by the arms and gently led them out, assuring them that all would be well. Glorfindel and Amroth stood out of the way while the Twins were busy getting Alex into the sleeping bag. Mithrellas came over with a mug of the tea and a spoon and, propping Alex up, they managed to get the tea down him, one spoonful at a time.

"The kitchen staff will be here in a few hours," Glorfindel said. "They’re not going to be very happy to see him lying there."

"That can’t be helped," Elladan said, even as he was zipping up the sleeping bag and adjusting the pillow to make the still unconscious Man more comfortable. "We need this workspace. If we can get the fever down, then we will consider moving him in with the other sick students."

"Which reminds me," Glorfindel said. "It’s about time for you to check on them again, isn’t it?"

"Yes, but Alex is our main concern," Elrohir answered, running a hand gently through the Man’s hair. "This fever is troubling. Most of those down with the virus are suffering a low-grade fever, but Alex is truly burning up. Without a thermometer I don’t know exactly what it is, but my guess is that it’s about forty degrees."

"A hundred and four?" Glorfindel exclaimed, converting automatically from Celsius to Fahrenheit.

"Maybe even a hundred and five," Elrohir replied with a nod, "and that’s dangerously high. If we don’t get this fever down even a few degrees, he could very easily die."

"If worse comes to worst, we may have to pack him in snow," Elladan added, "but that’s a last resort method. Sometimes, that kind of therapy causes more problems than it solves."

"How long before that tea takes hold?"

"Another hour at least and we’ll give him another dose before that," Elrohir answered.

"Fine. I’ll ask Ron and Holly to look in on the students and I’ll see about finding a mattress for Alex so he’s not sleeping on a cold floor."

"We’ll let you know if there’s any change, good or bad," Elrohir said and Glorfindel went out to the cafeteria and found the other Elves standing around, waiting for news. He motioned for them to join him in the hallway so they wouldn’t be disturbing the sleeping students. "We convinced Derek and Jud to sleep," Vorondur said without preamble as they moved away from the door. Glorfindel nodded his thanks, filling them in on what he knew, asking Vorondur and Ercassë to check on the sick students.

As the two headed for the lounges, Barahir said to Glorfindel, "A mattress will be no problem. I’ll go find one." At Glorfindel’s nod he also left.

"I suggest everyone get some rest while you can. I’ll...."

The lights flickered. All the Elves stopped to stare at the ceiling. The lights came back on almost at once but then went out again and stayed out.

"What now?" Glorfindel muttered, sounding very frustrated.

"Generator must have frozen or something," Cennanion said calmly. "Can’t be fuel as we have plenty. I’ll go check." At Glorfindel’s nod he went, and Gilvegil joined him, the two walking confidently in the almost total darkness.

"Anyone know what the outside temperature is?" Serindë asked.

"Amroth said it was minus seven with a wind-chill of minus thirty," Glorfindel answered.

"It’s colder than that, actually," Daeron said. "I was just checking the weather reports online. Fairbanks is registering a wind-chill of minus thirty-five. We’re further north and right in the heart of the storm and the wind has picked up. We’re getting winds as high as twenty-five miles an hour. The temperature has dropped to almost minus twenty, making the wind-chill almost minus fifty and I think it’s going to get colder still."

"That’s far too dangerous even for us," Alphwen said worriedly.

"Let’s hope Conan and Gil can get the generators back up," Daeron said. "Luckily, the kitchen has gas stoves, so we can at least provide hot meals, if nothing else, but there’s not going to be any hot water for showers and I don’t like the idea of the Mortals not being able to wash. That will just help spread the sickness further."

"One thing at a time," Glorfindel said. "Let’s go back. I want to see how Alex is doing. The students will be fine inside their sleeping bags for now."

They returned to the cafeteria and while Glorfindel and Daeron made their way into the kitchen area, the others took up stations around the cafeteria to keep an eye on the students. The kitchen was as dark as the rest of the building save that Amroth and Mithrellas were holding flashlights while Elladan and Elrohir were attempting to get more tea down Alex. Elrohir, spooning the tea, looked around at their entrance.

"We need those generators back up as soon as possible," he said.

"Gil and Conan are looking into it right now," Glorfindel said. "How’s Alex?"

"Getting better," Elladan answered. "His temperature has gone down enough that we’re no longer worried about it, but we need to keep it down. I really don’t like that he’s been unconscious for this long. He should have at least come to at some point, but he hasn’t."

"Is he in healing sleep?" Glorfindel asked.

"Not by us," Elrohir assured him. "Some Mortals do seem to have the ability to place themselves in a meditative state that is almost like a healing sleep. Those Tibetan monks with whom we spent a couple of centuries had that ability even before we showed up, if you recall."

"I know Alex has had some training in yoga and meditation," Amroth said. "It wasn’t something I taught him. He told me he took it up a couple of years after my disappearance. Perhaps he’s put some of that knowledge to work here."

"We’ll have to ask him when he wakes up."

As Elrohir was spooning the last of the tea into Alex, Cennanion and Gilvegil came in wrapped in blankets, their hair dripping with melting snow and ice. "We may have a problem," Cennanion said without preamble. "The motor didn’t just freeze on one of the generators, the belt snapped."

"What about the other one?" Glorfindel asked, fearing the worst.

"Motor’s frozen on that one, too," Gilvegil answered. "Everything else seems to be all right, but we’re not going to be able to get either of them up again. It’s just too cold."

"Has it ever gotten this cold so early?" Serindë asked.

"It is unusual to get this kind of weather this early," Daeron said, "at least from what I’ve been able to learn, but the weather patterns all over the world have been changing and have become very unpredictable, or more unpredictable than usual."

"What about the rest of the college and Wiseman?" Nimrodell asked. "Could everyone be experiencing frozen generators?"

"I can go call the Sheriff’s department to find out," Daeron suggested.

Glorfindel nodded and Daeron left. "Did you notice if any other buildings had power?" he asked Cennanion and Gilvegil.

Both ellyn shook their heads. "We can go and check."

"No, it’s far too dangerous to go out even for us. Daeron says the wind-chill factor is nearly at minus fifty."

Gilvegil let out a surprised whistle.

"Couldn’t the Belain have picked a better spot for us to prepare for the Last Battle?" Cennanion asked with a shake of his head.

Glorfindel gave them a faint smile. "That’s right. Santa’s relocated his whole operation to Mexico, and taken his elves with him."

There were chuckles from them all. "Or even better, Tahiti," quipped Elladan and the laughter that followed was more genuine.

The laughter stilled as Alex let out a moan and they all gathered around him. Amroth stood by his head and brushed a hand through the Man’s hair, calling his name softly. Alex moaned again, his eyes fluttering open. Mithrellas and Gilvegil held the flashlights in a way to offer illumination without blinding him.

"Wh-where...."

"You’re safe, son," Amroth said gently, never ceasing his ministration. "You’re at the Academy."

Alex nodded, closing his eyes and for a moment they thought he’d fallen asleep again but then he opened them and started struggling out of the sleeping bag. Three pairs of hands held him down. "No, Alex. You’re too sick to move," Elrohir said sternly. "Now, lie down. You’re not going anywhere."

"Derek... I have to see Derek," Alex said.

"Derek is fast asleep in the next room," Glorfindel told him. "You can see him later in the morning. Right now, we want you to go back to sleep."

"No, no. I need to see Derek," Alex protested, still struggling against them. "Please, I need to see him."

"He’s obviously upset about something concerning Derek," Amroth said to Glorfindel, speaking Sindarin.

"If we carry him to where Derek is so he can see that he’s safe, do you think he’ll calm down?" Glorfindel asked the Twins.

With a nod, Elladan moved to lift the Man up. "We’ll take you to Derek, Alex. Stay calm," he said in English and the Man settled into the Elf’s arms without further protest. "Bring a flashlight," Elladan ordered and he set off with everyone else following. They met Serindë standing just outside and with a quiet command from Elladan, she led them unerringly to where Derek was huddled in his sleeping bag with Jud on the other side wrapped in several blankets. There was enough space between sleepers for Elladan to kneel in front of Derek, placing Alex gently on the floor so he could see his roommate’s face.

"You see," Elladan whispered in Alex’s ear. "Derek is safe and sound asleep and that’s what you should be doing."

"Safe," Alex echoed. "He’s safe."

"Yes, child," Elladan said gently. "He’s safe, and so are you. Now, we have a nice mattress for you to sleep on in one of the lounges."

"No, I want to sleep here. Please, let me stay here." There was a note of desperate pleading that was so unlike the young Man they knew that most of them hearing it put it down to his illness. Amroth knelt next to Elladan. "We’ll let you stay here, but only if you promise to go to sleep."

"Promise," Alex sighed and almost as he said it he was slipping away into unconsciousness again. Elladan laid him down all the way and someone went and got the pillow from the kitchen and brought it back. Amroth indicated that he would keep watch on Alex for the duration of the night and everyone else left to resume their own watches with the Twins checking again on the sick students. Glorfindel wandered down to Daeron’s office where he found the loremaster still on the phone speaking to someone. He looked up as Glorfindel gave a perfunctory knock on the open door and gestured for him to enter.

"....that’s right, Paul. Both generators are out," Daeron was saying. "We have most of the students in the cafeteria but we’ve separated the sick ones and placed them in the lounges on either side of the cafeteria. We insulated those rooms as best we could, but already we can feel the cold and the children will be suffering even more."

He paused to listen, his eyes dark and seeing nothing, or perhaps seeing something other than his own office.

"Short of blow-torching the one generator to warm it up, I doubt we can get it started again, and, last I looked, there aren’t any blowtorches here. Lots of hair dryers, but that’s about it."

Another pause, this time longer. "Yes, I agree. Don’t worry. We’ll think of something. We’re Elves after all. We’re experts on survival." He gave Glorfindel a grin and a wink. "You take care of yourself, Paul. I’ll call you later in the morning. Love to Janet and the kids."

He closed down his cell phone. "That was Paul Pettingill," he said unnecessarily. "Half the generators in Wiseman are out. Most homes have fireplaces so there’s at least one room in the house that’s warm. I called Nicole’s house. Zach answered. He was up tending to Adam, who seems to be the sickest. He assured me that they were fine. The Michaelsons came over with their children earlier and they’re all there together. Nicole has a wood-burning stove so they’re good for hot meals and such. I couldn’t get a hold of Richard. Sheriff’s department is shut down apparently. All I got was a recorded message with a cell phone number."

"Alex woke up briefly," Glorfindel said as he took a seat in one of the chairs fronting Daeron’s desk. "He was very upset about Derek, wanting to see him, wanting to make sure he was safe."

"Fever does strange things to the mind," Daeron said. "Not that either you or I have had the experience, but I think we’ve both seen the effects of a high fever on Mortals. It’s similar to when they’re drunk. They stop thinking straight and even hallucinate. We know Alex’s been worried about leaving Derek alone for any length of time, fearing that Farrell would somehow use Derek to get to Alex."

Glorfindel nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. The fact that he keeps insisting that Derek is in danger tells me that he may be experiencing some type of foretelling. His bloodline, however diluted it may be, is prone to it."

Daeron nodded, then changed the subject. "With temperatures as cold as they are, it’s doubtful that Grace and the rest of the kitchen staff will make it in today."

"We’ll have to do the cooking instead," Glorfindel said. "As a contingency plan, we may have to move everyone over to the student center. They have fireplaces there."

"All four hundred of them?" Daeron exclaimed. "How can we do that? Even for us it’s too cold to venture out for long. Those children will never survive the move."

"I’m thinking of recruiting some Maiar to help us," Glorfindel said.

"And will they help? I doubt even these circumstances would warrant it. If they help us, why not everyone else in Wiseman or everyone living in Alaska?"

"I don’t think the Belain will suffer us all to die of hypothermia," Glorfindel protested. "That would completely defeat the purpose of the Academy."

"I know," Daeron said, "and don’t think I disagree with you, because I don’t, but I think it would set a dangerous precedent if we call on their help now for this. At the moment, we’re all safe and sound and alive, even if we’re cold, but we have the means to cook hot meals and this storm won’t last forever. Once the temperatures rise again, we’ll be able to get at least the one generator going." He stood up. "It’s nearly five. Why don’t we go and see what we can prepare for breakfast for everyone."

Glorfindel nodded as he rose and together they left the loremaster’s office and returned to the cafeteria where, in spite of the storm, there was now enough light as the sun climbed the skies somewhere behind the clouds so even the Mortals would be able to see to get around. Daeron took over the kitchen with the aid of the ellith, while Glorfindel and the other ellyn continued watching over the students.

Half an hour later, the first of the students rousing from their slumbers were greeted with the smell of bacon frying.

36: The Storm Takes its Toll

The students used the bathrooms in shifts, since none wished to venture too far from the cafeteria. With no hot water available, large pots of water were warmed on the stove and then set on a service counter with a dipper. A bowl was placed next to it with some liquid soap and everyone used their own towels. After each person washed, the bowl was emptied and wiped clean before the next person was allowed to use it. It was a slow process but most of the students took it in good stride, lining up with blankets around them. Once washed, they went through the cafeteria line for scrambled eggs and bacon, toast and juice, a few joking with their teachers who had donned aprons and were happily serving them. Since the tables and chairs had been cleared out, stacked in the hallways along the third floor dorms, everyone returned to their sleeping bags and ate there, chattering away about the ‘camp-out’ as they were calling it, some half jokingly asking Amroth if this counted towards their camping requirement.

The Elf merely smiled as he ladled out scrambled eggs.

Once everyone was served, Glorfindel announced that after breakfast students would be allowed to return to their rooms long enough to change their clothes but otherwise they were advised to remain in the cafeteria. Board games and cards would be brought up from the game room and anyone who wished for reading material could visit the reading room but there was to be no general wandering in the halls and he and the other teachers and administrators would be monitoring the halls to make sure that students obeyed that stricture. Someone asked if they could go outside and play, but Glorfindel said that until the temperatures rose above zero, no one was to go out.

“Last night, while you were all snug in your sleeping bags, the temperatures plunged to minus thirty with a wind-chill of minus sixty-five. Even now with the sun up, the outside temperature is still only minus twenty. So, for the duration, we’re all stuck inside.”

“Why’s it so cold?” another student asked.

“Unfortunately, both generators froze during the night and one has a broken belt. We’re hoping that as the temperatures rise we can get at least the one going again, or power may be restored in the meantime. So, until we get power back, it’s best if everyone stays here where we are generating heat from the kitchen. We’ve got the ovens on and hot water boiling on the stoves. We’ll keep these doors open to let the warm air come through and we’ll keep hot water available for coffee, tea and cocoa.” He paused and gave them a sly smile. “And in a little while we’ll serve second breakfast. We will, in fact, offer several light meals through the day. Your bodies are burning up calories trying to stay on top of the cold conditions so you’ll need to fuel up more. Hopefully, this situation will not last for long, but until we get power back, I’m asking everyone to cooperate.”

“What about our friends who are sick? And what if we get sick ourselves? That bug is still running loose, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, and we need to be extra vigilant in keeping clean as best we can, especially washing hands. There will be a pot of hot water specially designated for that in the kitchen. Those who are sick have been made comfortable in the lounges. Please be mindful of them when you have to leave to use the bathrooms. We're going to ask you to use the bathrooms on the second floor and leave the ones on this floor for them. If anyone here starts to feel unwell, they are to let us know immediately so we can transfer you out of the general population. Those who seem to be recovering will move in here. Now, let’s have those living on the first floor go to their rooms and change. We’ll do this floor by floor. You have twenty minutes, so don’t dawdle.”

There was a general exodus as students nearly rushed to leave the cafeteria. Barahir and Eirien went with them to supervise, while Elrohir and Serindë volunteered to go down to the game room and bring back as many board games and card games as they could. Jud and Derek, along with a couple of other students volunteered to help.

All this time, Alex slept, for Elladan had placed him in a healing sleep. Derek had been surprised to see him sleeping beside him when he woke and Glorfindel assured him that he was recovering. “By rights, he should be with the other people who are sick, but he became very agitated when he came to, insisting he needed to see you, to make sure you were all right and so we let him sleep next to you.”

Derek gave him a puzzled look. “It’s not as if we’re lovers or anything. Why would he get all upset?”

“He was running a very high fever,” Glorfindel explained. “From what we’ve been able to gather, he woke up in the clinic convinced that something bad had or was going to happen to you. That’s why he left in the middle of the storm to come here, looking for you, making sure you were safe. Why he felt you were in danger, who can say? The mind does funny things when people are that sick. Now that he knows you’re okay, he should heal faster. For now, we’ll let him sleep a little longer. Roy or Dan will keep an eye on him. Now, I don’t think Alex will mind if Jud borrows some of his clothes for the duration as they appear to be about the same height, so when it’s your turn to go change, take him with you, all right?”

“Sure, no problem.”

And so the day progressed. By nine o’clock, everyone had had a chance to change their clothes and were back in the cafeteria. Many of them had brought along their winter gear and were sitting around wearing coats, hats and gloves as they gathered in small groups to play the board game or card game of their choice while others were content to read or even to go back to sleep. Around ten, the Elves set out a second meal consisting of hot cereals — oatmeal, cream of wheat and farina — along with cinnamon rolls and muffins. Some of the students offered to help with kitchen duty to give the teachers a break and their offers were accepted. A rotation schedule was set up, since not everyone could help at the same time.

It never occurred to any of the students that the teachers and administrators who busied themselves with providing meals, checking on the sick and generally keeping watch over the students, all the while giving them cheerful smiles and warm encouragements, hadn’t slept in two days and were unlikely to sleep until the crisis was over.

Just before lunch was to be served, Elrohir brought Alex out of healing sleep, making sure that Derek was the first person he saw when he opened his eyes. Alex smiled sleepily up at them.

“You’re safe,” he muttered.

“And you’re two fries short of a happy meal, my friend, venturing out in the middle of the storm like that. If you weren’t so sick, I’d knock you halfway to next Sunday for pulling such a stupid, brain-dead stunt like that!”

Alex frowned. “You can’t yell at me like that.”

“I can’t? Why not?”

Now Alex smirked. “Because we’re not married.”

Derek stared at him in disbelief, while Elrohir did not even try to hide the smile of amusement on his face and Jud, who was with them, snickered loudly and started humming the Wedding March from Wagner’s Lohengrin. Derek rounded on him and gave him a punch on the arm, then turned to Alex, shaking a finger at him. “You should count your lucky stars we aren’t,” he said, “or else you’d be singing soprano in the choir.”

At that, Elrohir broke out laughing and Jud joined him, while Alex stuck his tongue out at Derek who relented and gave him a smile. “I still have half a mind....”

“Only half?” Jud couldn’t help asking, giving him an ingenuous look and now even Alex was laughing.

Derek just threw his hands up in defeat.

“If you feel strong enough,” Elrohir said to Alex, diverting the Mortals’ attention, “you should go wash up and change your clothes. You slept through breakfast...”

“Twice,” Derek interjected with a grin.

“...and it’s almost time for lunch. There’s broth if you think you can handle it.”

“Let me wash up first and wake up a bit more before I decide on food,” Alex said as he struggled out of the sleeping bag. “I wouldn’t mind some coffee but I’ll settle for tea.”

“Coffee would not be a good idea, but tea will do. Derek and Jud will go with you just to be safe.”

Alex didn’t protest that and the three Men left the cafeteria with Alex leaning on Derek for support, still feeling weak. A half an hour later, the three Men were back in the cafeteria and were told to return to their sleeping bags while someone brought them their lunch. Jud and Derek had tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches while Alex sipped carefully on chicken broth. Afterwards the three amused themselves with a game of poker for an hour or so until Alex declared he was feeling unwell again and wanted to lie down. Elladan was called over. He brought some herbal tea, stating, for Derek’s sake, that it would settle Alex’s stomach and help him to sleep, then, after the tea was drunk, he sent Alex into healing sleep in such a way as not to arouse Derek’s suspicions. Once Elladan was satisfied that Alex was indeed sleeping, he left, giving the two other Mortals a quick smile, which they returned. The two of them continued playing poker as they watched over their friend.

****

All day long, the students tried to see out the cafeteria windows but ice covered them, distorting their view. Some started to feel agitated and restless with the enforced inactivity. Jud suggested that those who wished be allowed to run or walk through the halls to burn off some of their energy.

“They may even feel warmer for the exercise,” he pointed out and Glorfindel agreed. To that end, the third floor was designated a walking floor and the second floor was designated for running with the first floor out of bounds. Doors to the rooms that looked onto the quad were opened to allow some natural light to stream into the hallways from the windows so people did not need to walk or run with flashlights. Cennanion and Alphwen agreed to stroll through the third floor corridors, keeping an eye on the walkers while Gilvegil and Barahir went with the runners. Derek wanted to run but was afraid to leave Alex’s side in case he awoke, but Glorfindel assured him that it would be fine for him to leave his friend for a time, so he and Jud headed to the second floor and joined the tribe of homo cursens, as Daeron jokingly called them.

Thus, for about an hour or so before supper was called, there was the sound of pounding feet as people ran the course, or animated talking among the walkers as they strolled briskly along the hall, some of them, the Elves were pleased to hear, practicing their Sindarin on one another to much amusement of both students and Elves.

With the students thus occupied, some of the Elves allowed themselves to rest, taking turns to lie down and slipping onto the Paths of Dreams. Elrohir was one such. He, more than Elladan, had been expending much of his energy in healing and it was finally taking its toll. When he nearly tripped over nothing like a clumsy Mortal, Glorfindel ordered him to go lie down for a while.

“You’re not going to do us any good stumbling about like that,” he admonished the younger Elf and Elrohir reluctantly agreed.

Sometime later Glorfindel chanced upon the ellon’s sleeping form, and was mildly amused to see him and Serindë wrapped in each other’s arms under a couple of blankets, both of them fast asleep. Vorondur came along and gave Glorfindel a knowing smile.

“My wife and I have been keeping an eye on them, to ensure that there is nothing improper in their behavior.”

“They’re a bit old to be chaperoned, don’t you think?” Glorfindel commented with a smile of his own.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to give the children any ideas of their own, now would we?” Vorondur retorted with a chuckle. “Can you imagine the nightmare of Mortal pairings? I certainly don’t want to explain to a parent why their daughter is now expecting a child.”

Glorfindel gave a convincing shudder as the two moved away from the sleeping couple. “So, will they have a proper Noldorin wedding or do it Sindarin-style as Amroth and Nimrodel did?”

“My wife wants all the bells and whistles,” Vorondur said with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t care how they do it, just so long as they do. I think with Amroth and Nimrodel expecting there will be an incentive to make their union official.”

“I think a proper wedding would be something that our Mortal friends would enjoy,” Glorfindel said. “Perhaps we can convince them to hold a wedding in the spring even if they consummate their bond privately before that.”

“It would certainly make the ellith happy,” Vorondur admitted. “He still hasn’t come to me yet, so I’ll have to wait to suggest it to them until he does.”

“What’s stopping him?” Glorfindel asked. “It’s obvious that they are meant for one another.”

Vorondur gave him a wide grin. “In many ways, young Elrohir outranks me, but I’m still Serindë’s father. Even the bravest of warriors will hesitate before confronting the father of his beloved.”

Glorfindel snorted, shaking his head. “I imagine Elrohir would sooner face a contingent of orcs without a weapon than have to face you and possibly suffer rejection for his suit.”

“Exactly,” Vorondur replied. “So, until he mans up, as the Mortals like to say, I have to pretend nothing is going on and wait for him to speak.” He paused, giving Glorfindel a wicked smile. “It’s a good thing I’m a patient soul, but Ercassë is ready to scream, wondering what’s stopping, and I quote, ‘that orc-brained son of Elrond from asking our permission to wed our daughter’.”

Glorfindel chuckled. “I remember when Elrond finally got up the nerve to ask Celeborn for Celebrían’s hand in marriage. Celeborn merely smiled, calling him ‘son’, but Galadriel threw up her hands and exclaimed to all and sundry, ‘Finally! The ellon grew a backbone!’ Poor Elrond was mortified and Celebrían was furious. It was a while before calm returned to Lórien after that.”

“The Lady Galadriel was always a formidable elleth,” Vorondur said with a nod. “I gave Celeborn credit for putting up with her.”

“I think they call it love, but with those two, I was never sure. Well, I guess I’ll go see how the kitchen help is doing.”

“And I will check in on the sick ones and tell Elladan to go rest. He’s expended almost as much energy in healing as his brother.”

Glorfindel nodded in agreement and the two separated.

****

By the time supper was being served, even Glorfindel was beginning to feel the fatigue of maintaining a cheerful manner before the students. Daeron had been on the phone with a number of people during the day, getting a status report on conditions outside the building and letting the authorities know how they were faring. He finally sought out Glorfindel who was sitting on a stool in the corner of the kitchen with his head in his hands, his eyes half-closed.

“I’m sorry to disturb your rest,” Daeron said quietly, pulling up another stool.

Glorfindel shook his head, straightening. “What news do you have?” he asked around a yawn.

"They don’t anticipate us getting power back before the weekend," Daeron said. "There’s talk about having local families take in the students who come from outside this area, but it will be at least another day before they can get the streets plowed. The sheriff’s department is maintaining a curfew. No one is to be outdoors except for extreme emergencies after six o’clock and that goes for the college."

 “Well, none of our students have any need to leave, but we had better let them know that anyone attempting to leave the building will be dismissed from the Academy. They’ve been very cooperative so far, but this is only Thursday and we don’t know for how much longer we’ll have to put up with these conditions.”

“Agreed. Frankly, I’d like to put them all into hibernation and only wake them when we have power back, but that’s not really an option. Conan suggested we give them a concert tonight, perhaps encourage some of the musically inclined students to provide entertainment, even have people design improv skits.”

“That certainly is an idea. I will make an announcement when we’re serving supper. I think we’re planning to serve one more meal after that before the students get themselves ready for bed. Why don’t we tell them that they can prepare skits and songs and the like between supper and the final meal and we’ll have them take turns entertaining each other while they’re eating, then perhaps, once the dishes are cleaned and the kitchen put away, we Elves can offer our own entertainment.” He gave Daeron a sly look. “Maybe end the evening with a lullaby or three?”

Daeron smiled and nodded. “I think that would work.”

So, while supper was being served, Glorfindel made the announcement and there was much enthusiasm for the idea. Not all the students wished to participate but there were enough to warrant the concert. Several students asked permission to return to their rooms for musical instruments, including pennywhistles, and they were given a classroom down the hall in which to practice. Others banded together and worked out skits, giggling over their lines.

Just before supper, Elrohir, now rested, woke Alex up and encouraged him to eat some soft-boiled eggs on toast and applesauce while Derek and the other students ate their hot meatball sandwiches and chips. Alex was in no mood to want to participate in the upcoming concert, content to sit and speak quietly to Barahir, who agreed to keep the young Man company while Derek joined Jud and a few others who were interested in performing an improv skit.

“How are you holding up?” Barahir asked, adjusting the blanket around Alex’s shoulders.

“Better,” Alex replied. “God! I don’t think I’ve ever been so sick in my life. What’s the status here? Any word from Farrell?”

“According to Glorfindel, Farrell is trapped in Wiseman, but he’s fine. The Goldmine Inn has its own generators.”

“Not that I care, but I want to keep tabs on him at all times.”

“Understandable.”

“Speaking of the Goldmine Inn, whatever happened to Mrs. Becker? Did she finally leave Alaska?”

“No, unfortunately. She was supposed to leave on the weekend, I understand, but Shane called to let us know that both she and her mother were down with the Norovirus.”

“That’s tough,” Alex said sympathetically.

 “More than you think,” Barahir said with a grin. “Mrs. Becker is with Shane at her apartment. The two of them are trapped with one another.”

“Ouch! That is bad. Let’s hope they both survive the experience.”

“Amen to that,” Barahir exclaimed. “Well, it’s my turn to help serve. Will you be alright by yourself?”

“Sure. I’ll give a holler if I need to.”

“You want anything to drink?”

“Actually, tea really sounds good to me right now.”

“I’ll go bring you some,” Barahir said as he stood and a few minutes later he was returning with some hot tea mixed with lemon and honey, leaving Alex happily sipping it as he went back to his station.

****

The evening entertainment was a success all around. Even those students who were sick were allowed to join the rest so they could enjoy the entertainment, as well, all of them huddled in a corner, sipping on broth or herbal tea. As students ate their cheese pizzas (Alex had some beef broth and crackers), various groups took turns to sing or play music or do a skit. There was much laughter and the mood was bright and relaxed. Derek and Jud and their group did a hilarious skit lampooning the popular Robin Hood-styled movies. Alex laughed so hard that his stomach hurt and he had to hold on to himself. Once the dishes were put away and people were settling down into their sleeping bags, with the sick students returned to their own beds, Daeron, Alphwen and Cennanion, along with Serindë and Elrohir, walked amongst them, singing lullabies in Sindarin.

The other Elves looked on and then all of them sang a final song together, a song to Varda in Quenya which Glorfindel had taught them once. Their ethereal voices blended beautifully and the Mortals all fell asleep with smiles on their faces. Even the sick ones, lying in the lounges, could hear the Elves singing and all of them felt their pains easing as they, too, drifted off to sleep.

****

Homo cursens: (Latin) Running Man.

37: Day Three

The night progressed more or less quietly. Around midnight, a couple of students woke up being sick and the Elves were busy cleaning up the mess and transferring them to what were being called the sickrooms.

"Though they’re all sick, the poor dears," commented Ercassë sympathetically as she helped one of the students to the women’s bathroom.

Cennanion and Barahir went to the students’ rooms to retrieve their mattresses so they would be more comfortable. There had been some discussion about letting everyone bring their mattresses up to the cafeteria but they would’ve taken up too much room.

"The students aren’t going to be able to stand sleeping on the hard floor for long," Gilvegil said. "Already some of them are complaining of sore muscles."

"Can’t be helped," Glorfindel said with a sigh.

Once the two students were removed from the general population, Daeron insisted that Glorfindel lie down and rest. "We’ve all had a turn at resting except you," he pointed out. "Now, go and get some sleep. We’ve got everything under control."

So Glorfindel went, finding a place in a corner, folding a blanket under his head for a pillow and throwing another over him. A few minutes later, he was slipping onto the Path of Dreams....

****

He was dreaming of the Helcaraxë, remembering how a blizzard had come up out of nowhere and everyone was attempting to find shelter. Glorfindel, along with the other warriors in Turucáno’s band who were busy piling snow into mounds and hollowing them out to create temporary shelters, found himself crammed in with six others, unable to move as the storm howled outside their makeshift igloo, wondering if this storm would last as long as the previous one....

He woke to the realization that something or rather, someone, was holding him down, pinning him so he could barely move. It was still dark out and he could get no sense of how much time had passed while he’d slept. He moved his head to the left to find one of the young Women who had been sleeping nearby happily curled up beside him, using his chest as a pillow. Movement alerted him and he found Daeron and Vorondur standing over him, amused looks on their faces.

"Is there something you haven’t told us, mellon nîn?" Daeron whispered, though Glorfindel heard him well enough.

"She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?" Vorondur said teasingly.

Glorfindel sighed. "It’s not what it looks like," he said. "I think she felt the heat from my body and just gravitated toward me in her sleep."

"A likely story," Daeron said with a sniff. "Next you’ll be telling us you didn’t really die and go to Mandos."

"Obviously, our fearless leader is hiding deep, dark secrets," Vorondur said. "It’s a good thing we found you instead of one of the students. Oh, the scandal that would cause!"

"Will you two stop with the Victorian melodrama and move her off me!" Glorfindel demanded. "My arm’s gone to sleep and I actually do need to get up."

Both Elves chuckled and Daeron bent down, gently stroking the Mortal’s hair. "Patty," he said quietly.

"Hmph?" The young Woman came partially awake.

"Why don’t you move over here where your pillow is, child?" Daeron asked, gently moving her off Glorfindel with one hand while shoving the abandoned pillow toward her. Patty grabbed the pillow with a sigh and fell instantly back to sleep. Glorfindel pushed himself up with one hand while shaking the other to get circulation back. Daeron and Vorondur continued grinning at him.

"If you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to," Glorfindel said stiffly and walked away, ignoring the muffled laughter behind him. A few minutes later, having returned from the bathroom, he made his way into the kitchen where Mithrellas was there fixing some tea. She gave him a smile.

"Peppermint. Would you like some?"

"Yes, thank you." He stared at the clock on the wall. "I must be getting old. There was a time when I could’ve gone without sleep for nearly a week and be refreshed after only an hour’s rest. I can’t believe I slept for nearly three hours."

"The storm and everything is taking a toll on all of us," Mithrellas said, handing him a mug. "We’re all feeling it, not just the students."

Glorfindel nodded. "What’s our status?"

"All things considered, we’re in better shape than we deserve," the elleth replied. "Holly, Sarah and I took an inventory. If we’re careful, we can stretch the menus out for another three days. It’s going to be pretty basic but it will be filling. Towels are going to be a problem. We’re running out of clean ones and there’s no way to wash what we have unless we do it by hand."

"Rather impractical considering we’d have no way to hang them up so they dry. We’re just going to have to do with what we have and hope we get power back sooner rather than later."

"At any rate," Mithrellas continued, "what concerns me is our inability to maintain proper hygiene. I know most of the students are dying for a hot shower and not just as a means of warming up. They’re trying to make the best of it, but some of them are getting a bit hyper about things, from lack of showers to being unable to go outside. Electronic devices are running low and there’s no way to recharge them. People are going to go into withdrawal, unable to contact parents or play games or listen to music."

"Which is why we need to engage them in physical activities," Glorfindel said, "in order to keep their minds off of what is happening."

"Do you think the temperatures will improve during the day so we can throw them outside for a while?"

"The latest readings seem to indicate that," Glorfindel replied. "To tell you the truth, I’m as anxious to get out as the students are." He downed his tea. "I think I’m going for a run. I need to burn off some of my energy as well."

"I think Gil and Roy are already down on the second floor running. At least, they were there about an hour ago."

"Then I guess I’ll join them. Thanks for the tea." He left the kitchen, stopping to inform Daeron and Vorondur who were on watch as to his intent and then made his way down to the second floor, stopping for a couple of minutes to warm up before going into a jog. In spite of the dark he was able to see well enough to run, for someone had kept a couple of the dorm room doors open so moonlight came streaming in. He was rounding the first corner when he heard footsteps behind him and shortly thereafter, Elrohir and Gilvegil were joining him, slowing somewhat to match Glorfindel’s pace.

"Care for some company?" Gilvegil asked and Glorfindel nodded.

"How far have you run?" he asked.

"Oh, about ten miles so far," Elrohir answered with a shrug.

"Then it seems I have a little bit of catching up to do," Glorfindel said with a smile.

The other two Elves chuckled as the three continued jogging.

"So, where’s Dan?" Glorfindel asked Elrohir.

"He’s watching over the sick with Daisy. Sarah and I will take over in about an hour."

"Speaking of Sarah, I had an interesting conversation with Ron a while ago."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he’s wondering if he’s going to have to see another age before you get up the nerve to ask him for his daughter’s hand."

Elrohir sighed. "You, too?"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. It’s just that Dan’s been after me as well."

"And that should tell you something right there," Glorfindel said. He gave Elrohir a grin. "Are you afraid of Ron?"

"Of course not!"

"Are you afraid he’ll refuse your suit? Because, if you are, you can put that fear to rest. Ron and Holly are quite anxious for you to become their son-in-law."

"It’s not that," Elrohir protested.

"Then what?

"It’s complicated."

"It’s always complicated." Glorfindel came to a halt and the others did as well. "So let me uncomplicate it for you: you love Sarah; she loves you. Ron and Holly love you as their son. All you need to do is go to Ron and ask for Sarah’s hand." He gave him a sly look. "Unless, of course, you decide to do it the Sindarin way."

"A better option, in my opinion," Gilvegil said with a grin. "You Noldor are too hung up on ceremony for your own good."

Elrohir actually blushed, much to the older Elves’ amusement. "No. I suggested it, but Sarah’s bent on having a real wedding."

"Then I suggest you don’t disappoint the elleth and let’s get this betrothal in place."

Now?!"

"Is there a better time?" Glorfindel asked, giving Elrohir an innocent look.

"Well, I mean... we’re in the middle of a crisis."

Glorfindel shrugged. "And so? Happy news will go a long way towards boosting everyone’s morale. I don’t see where there’s a problem, do you, Gil?"

"Not from where I’m standing," Gil answered with a smile. "Glorfindel’s right, child. The time for stalling is past and well past. I think we could all use some happy news and a betrothal is just what the healer ordered."

"I’m the healer," Elrohir protested, though somewhat weakly.

Glorfindel and Gilvegil chuckled and the three resumed their run in silence. After a moment, Elrohir said, "I’ll talk it over with Sarah. Maybe there’ll be an announcement later in the day."

"I’m looking forward to it," Glorfindel said and Gilvegil seconded him.

****

As the students began waking and hurrying through their ablutions and getting some breakfast, Glorfindel made an announcement that cheered them all.

"The temperatures have moderated enough, so, after breakfast, all the male students are free to go outside and play." There was a rush of clapping and shouting from the men. Glorfindel held up his hands for silence. "And while the men are outside, the women will be indulging in sponge baths and washing their hair." Now the women all clapped and cheered. When silence was achieved, Glorfindel continued. "So, ladies, after breakfast, go and get clean clothes and report back here. Men, your mission, should you choose to accept it," and there was general laughter at that, "is to build two snow forts. After lunch, the ladies will go outside and make snowballs for each fort while you gentlemen spruce yourselves up with a wash. Then, we’ll have a snowball fight after supper."

Everyone clapped and cheered.

"So, in the next half hour all males, including teachers, are to report outside. The only exception is Roy, as he’s watching over the sick."

In minutes, as the students quickly finished their breakfast, they began to scatter. Glorfindel stopped Alex and Derek as they were leaving. "How are you two holding up?"

"I’m fine," Derek said.

"Me, too," Alex replied somewhat quickly. When Glorfindel gave him a skeptical look he sighed. "Really, I’m fine, or, at least, I’m better. Look, I promise not to overdo it. I can act in a supervisory role, help design the forts even if I don’t actually work on them."

"All right," Glorfindel relented. "Dan will be outside, so if you start feeling sick again, you are to let him know. You were very seriously ill, more so than the other students, and we don’t want a relapse."

Alex nodded and Glorfindel let the two Men go. When everyone was outside, Glorfindel gave them further instructions. "Two forts. The teachers will supervise. The forts should be far enough apart to make things interesting but close enough to accommodate the shorter throwing range of anyone who isn’t a champion pitcher for the Yankees." They all laughed at that. "Count off by twos and have fun. Darren, come with me."

As the young men began counting off, Glorfindel and Daeron walked away, moving around the building and out of sight of the students. "I’m going to check with Richard and see how the rest of the college is doing," Glorfindel said. "I’d like you to go into town and check on our friends."

"And our enemies?" Daeron asked with a knowing smile.

But Glorfindel shook his head. "Leave Farrell alone for now. He’s not important at the moment. Our friends are. Stop and speak with the sheriff and see what’s going on. I’d like to get a hold of Paul and the other rangers but I imagine they have their hands full dealing with the parks."

"I’ll see what I can find out about when power might be restored. Now that the storm is over the crews should be coming out from Fairbanks to supplement those from Chandalar and Bettles."

"Hopefully that will help," Glorfindel said. "If you can scrounge up an extra belt for the generator, that would be great. I’m going to take a look at the other one and see if it’s unfrozen enough to get it started again." The two parted. Daeron ran swiftly over the snow while Glorfindel continued to where the generators were to find Barahir and Cennanion already there. They looked up at Glorfindel’s approach.

"It’s possible we’ll be able to get this one going soon," Cennanion said. "No guarantees, but if the temperatures don’t plunge too far tonight, we may be alright."

"If you can get it to run even for a few hours, long enough to give us some heat, that would be great," Glorfindel said. "This cold is taking its toll on all of us, but especially the Mortals and especially those who are sick. I know Dan and Roy are not happy to have to keep putting them into healing sleep for such long periods and it’s draining them more than they are letting on."

"We’ll do what we can," Barahir said.

"I’ve sent Daeron into town to check on our friends there. He’s going to see if he can also find a new belt for the other generator."

"That would be great," Cennanion said.

"Well, I need to hunt down the college president and anyone else from Admin to see what’s happening with the rest of the college. I’ll let you get back to work." With that, he set off, making his way to the administration building but when he got there the building was locked up and he could not get in. Frustrated, he decided to just wander and see if he could find anyone else. He went to the student center, finding it full of people who were warm but hungry, for the snack bar had run out of food the day before. Some of the students were planning to go into town in the hope of finding a store open so they could buy food. Glorfindel suggested that they first go to the sheriff’s office and let them know what the conditions were.

"They’ll be in a better position to see that food is gotten to you and anything else that’s needed. What of the sick? Do you have any who are still suffering from the virus?"

"Yeah," one student said. "They spend most of their time in the bathrooms. I’m worried for some of them, though. They don’t look very good."

"I’m on my way over to the clinic. I’ll let them know and have one of the doctors come and check on you all."

He headed for the clinic and found Dr. Lawrence, who apparently had never left. The Man had bags under his eyes and the fatigue of having been on call for nearly three days was telling. The rest of his staff didn’t look much better. "I’ll have a med team put together and sent over to the student center shortly," he said to Glorfindel after the Elf-lord filled him in. "I’ve been planning this since the storm began. How are your people holding up? And Alex, how is he?"

Glorfindel brought him up to date. "Well, now that the worst is over, I’m hoping some of the staff can go home, but we’ll have to wait for the others who couldn’t make it in for their shift to get here. I have every confidence that Dan and Roy have done a superb job with your own sick, but I’m sure they wouldn’t mind some help."

"They’re both nearly at the end of their strength. None of us have had proper sleep since Monday. Elves can go for days without it, for we can rest while awake, but even we need to stop and have complete rest eventually. If you could send some people over to check on vitals that would be welcome. The Twins are only guessing sometimes as to what the vitals are for any one student."

Once Glorfindel was satisfied with the arrangements, he made his way back to the Academy, pleased to see that two snow forts were well on their way to being built. He entered the building and smiled, for he could see that they had power again, for the hall lights were dimly glowing. He made his way toward the stairs on the men's side of the building, climbing them and entering the lounge where Elrohir was watching over the sick, quickly filling the ellon in on what he’d done.

"It would be a relief to have these children moved to the clinic where they can get proper treatment," Elrohir said with a sigh. "At least we have one of the generators up and running again. That should go a long way towards boosting morale."

"I agree. Well, I’m going to go back out and see how the forts are coming along. Do you want anyone to relieve you and Sarah?"

"Sure. I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air for a bit and I know Sarah would, too."

"All right. Have Sarah check with Misty to get one of the elleth to relieve her and I’ll send Gil up."

****

The forts were declared a success. The ellyn had offered their expertise on constructing fortifications, so these forts were quite a sight, with thick walls and rising towers. Everyone was in a cheerful mood as they trooped in to get ready for lunch. The women were also happy to feel clean again. When they saw that some power had been restored, one of the men asked if that meant they would be able to take showers instead of sponge baths, but Amroth told them that there was still not enough hot water for that and they were reserving the showers for those who were sick. Immediately, several of the men started clutching their stomachs as if in pain. Amroth wasn’t impressed, merely smiling and letting them know that any who were truly sick wouldn’t be able to participate in the snowball fight later.

"It’s amazing how they all instantly recovered," Amroth said sardonically and Glorfindel and the other Elves chuckled.

So, after lunch, while the men lined up for their sponge baths, the women all went outside to make snowballs for the upcoming war, interspersing that activity with building snowmen — "Sentinels," as one student called them.

At one point, Daeron returned bearing news.

"The plows are out and working their way to the college. They’ll be working through the night so we should be accessible by road by the morning. Some students showed up at the sheriff’s office while I was there and the sheriff called the manager of the grocery store and ordered him to come and open his store and let the students take what they needed. They’ll keep a tab and send the bill to Admin later."

"Admin was closed up and I haven’t been able to get a hold of Richard," Glorfindel told him. "It disturbs me that no one from Administration has bothered to check on those of us here. Dr. Lawrence called me to let me know that he had teams checking every building, even breaking in to those that are locked up. Right now they’re concentrating on where they know the students are, so they won’t get to the Admin building for a while. He’s sent a couple of nurses here to check on our sick. We’re making plans to transfer some of the worst cases but probably not before tomorrow. They’re fine where they are for now."

"Nicole and the kids are fine, as are Zach and the Michaelsons," Daeron continued his report. "I checked with Shane and the others. Shane’s mother is making plans to leave as soon as possible. Shane told me that she’s convinced her mother that she’s happy where she is and does not want to return to Brooklyn. Sheila isn’t happy about it, but there’s little she can do. As soon as the access road is cleared, Shane will take her to Bettles to the airport."

"One crisis averted," Glorfindel said. "Everyone else faring well?"

"As far as I was able to determine. I met Marian and Deirdre. They’re going to check in as soon as they can get here."

"Good enough," Glorfindel said. "If we can get power completely restored then maybe we can get back to teaching. This storm’s put paid to most of our plans."

"We’ll manage," Daeron assured him.

****

Supper was served an hour earlier than usual so that there would be plenty of time for the snowball fight. Amroth, Nimrodel, Vorondur and Ercassë volunteered to stay with the sick and see about getting them showered and into clean clothes. Then, they were brought into the cafeteria and fed broth and crackers. The windows had defrosted enough so they could see out. Most of them lined the windows to watch the snowball fight going on below, obviously envious of their classmates, wishing they could go out as well. Still, most of them were happy to watch, cheering for one side or the other indiscriminately, making comments, rude and otherwise, about their friends’ efforts in attacking or defending.

The game ended when Alex, who had insisted he was well enough to play, organized a group of commandos, as he called them, and, using his skills in espionage, managed to bring his people undetected behind enemy lines and attack from the rear. Derek, who was fighting with the other group, managed to ‘kill’ Alex with a snowball smack in his face, so he was out before the game ended, but he didn’t seem to mind, coming over to where the Elves were gathered, cheerfully describing his tactics to Barahir and Gilvegil.

After the last snowball was thrown and victory for one side declared, everyone cheered and hugged each other and trooped indoors laughingly analyzing the game, asking if they could have another snowball fight the next day. The Elves had put together some chili for the final meal, which was happily consumed, along with s’mores as a special treat, the students taking turns standing in front of the stoves and toasting marshmallows. The s’mores were courtesy of Daeron who, on his way back to the college, had stopped at the store and bought up the necessary ingredients, feeling that they all needed a treat.

When the meal was over and the kitchen cleaned up, the Elves offered to entertain them with song before lights out, but before they did so, Vorondur and Ercassë motioned for Elrohir and Serindë to stand with them.

"We have an announcement to make," Vorondur said, smiling. "Sometimes it takes a crisis for people to realize just how precious life is and how we can never know what the future will bring. This afternoon, while you were all pounding each other with snowballs, Roy asked Sarah for her hand in marriage and she has accepted with our blessing."

There was a general outburst of applause and cheering. Vorondur raised his hand for silence. "Holly and I are very happy for them."

"You mean, relieved," Ercassë said with a roll of her eyes and everyone laughed.

Vorondur smiled at his wife and winked at Elrohir, who blushed, before addressing the students again. "The wedding will be held sometime in the spring. And now, in honor of the happy couple, we will sing a traditional song of welcome for a newly betrothed couple."

And with that, all the Elves, except Serindë and Elrohir, who stood shyly holding hands, burst into song. The concert continued for some time after that, ending with the Elves singing lullabies that sent the Mortals into blissful sleep.

38: Casualties of the Storm

Warning: A minor character’s death occurs off-stage.

****

Around four o’clock in the morning came the welcome sound of snowplows. Several of the students woke and went to the windows to look out, hoping to catch a glimpse of the plows, but all they saw was the reflection of the rotating orange lights casting weird shadows across the snowscape. After a few minutes they returned to their sleeping bags.

When the students woke for real, they found that the road before the Academy was cleared and, once breakfast was over, many of them decided to spend the morning removing the snow from the parking lot to ‘rescue’ their vehicles. Others ventured further afield to check out the rest of the college. Elrohir and Elladan began coordinating with the clinic staff to transfer some of the sicker students. As they left, Glorfindel came and assured them that they would not lose their places at the Academy.

"You have borne your illness with great courage," he told them in all sincerity, "and we look forward to seeing you back here as soon as you are well." His words appeared to give the students comfort, for many of them smiled as they were led away, carefully escorted by medical personnel.

Around ten came the sound of snowmobiles and when Glorfindel was summoned he found Paul Pettingill with another ranger, who held up a belt. "Heard you were down one generator," the ranger said with a smile. "This should fix it."

"Thank you," Glorfindel said. "Conan will show you where to go." He turned to Paul. "So, what brings you here?"

"Just checking up on you to make sure you hadn’t succumbed to cannibalism or anything."

"No, we’re fine. More than fine, now that we can get the second generator going. Of course, we would be even better if we had full power."

"Latest estimates say not before Sunday," Paul said. "Most of the power lines are down and it’s going to take a while. Crews are working around the clock and they got people coming from Barrows to help out. Even some of the oil crews out of Deadhorse have been recruited."

"Well, it’s the weekend anyway so there wouldn’t be any classes. I hope we can resume classes by Monday. We’ve lost an entire week."

"We’ll manage," Paul said with a shrug.

Glorfindel snorted. "That’s what Daeron keeps saying."

"And if you hear it often enough, you may come to believe it," Daeron retorted as he approached them, having heard the last exchange. "We have the second generator going."

"Thank the Valar! I sincerely hope we get power back by tomorrow sometime so we can move the students back to their rooms. I find I miss my bed."

Paul and Daeron grinned. "At any rate," Paul said, "We’ve been asked by Mayor Whitman to check on conditions here on campus. You were our first stop."

"And I appreciate it," Glorfindel said. "Dr. Lawrence had medical teams out checking on all the buildings. Check with him to find out what the situation is. I know the student center needs attention. The students trapped there ran out of food and had to go into town to look for more."

"We’re aware of that," Paul said, giving them a grim look. "I haven’t heard from Richard Martina, though I’ve left messages on his phone. I told the mayor and he said he would have someone check Martina’s house."

"The Administration building was locked when I checked," Glorfindel said, frowning. "Lawrence told me he was ordering his teams to break into any locked building, not to assume someone wasn’t there. I don’t know if they’ve been there yet. The doctors and nurses were concentrating on where they knew students were congregated."

Paul was about to comment when his phone rang. Answering it, he listened for a moment before closing it down, giving them a grim look. "That was Sheriff Graff. They went to Martina’s house. He’s not there."

Glorfindel sighed, suddenly having a premonition of doom. "If you’re headed for the Admin building, I’m coming with you."

Paul merely nodded, knowing Glorfindel well enough not to argue with the Elf-lord. "Grab a flashlight," was all he said.

"I’ll meet you there," Glorfindel replied.

By now Conan had returned with the other ranger and the two rangers set off while Glorfindel went inside to retrieve a flashlight. Daeron went with him. "You think something has happened to Richard?" he asked.

"I don’t know," Glorfindel replied. "I only know that he’s not home and the Admin building is locked up tight. My heart tells me that something is wrong, only I don’t know what."

"We’ll hold down the fort," Daeron said, then flashed him a smile. "Both forts," he added and Glorfindel chuckled as he headed back outside, skirting the building and making his way to the Admin building where he could see Paul and the other ranger attempting to unlock the door without having to break the glass.

"Here, let me," Glorfindel said, tossing his flashlight at the second ranger, whose name tag said ‘Sean Kendrick’. Paul stepped back and gave Glorfindel an amused look which he ignored. Placing a hand over the keyhole he concentrated a great deal of energy into it, muttering words of power that caused the two Mortals to gasp and step back. There was an interminable moment of extreme pressure, as if all the air around them had fled and then they heard a satisfying click as the door unlocked, sounding loud in the stillness. Then the air came back and the two Mortals were breathing heavily. Glorfindel turned to see Paul wiping sweat off his brow; Kendrick looked slightly green. He gave them a sympathetic smile as they simply stared at him in awe.

"Shall we go?" he asked, holding out his hand for the flashlight. At Paul’s nod, he opened the door and they stepped inside where all was dark once they left its vicinity. With no power, the elevators were not working so once they had searched all the rooms on the first floor, finding them empty, they headed for the stairs. Glorfindel was tempted to go directly to Martina’s office on the tenth floor, but stayed with the rangers as they methodically searched every room on every floor. Having three people looking sped up the procedure and within fifteen minutes they were outside Martina’s office.

Even before they reached it, though, Glorfindel sensed a wrongness and stopped Kendrick from opening the door. "Let me go first," he said softly.

The young ranger started to protest, but Paul took him by the arm and pulled him back. "You sense something?" he asked Glorfindel.

"More like smell," the Elf replied, "and it’s a smell with which I am all too acquainted. Let me go first." Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door wide enough to admit him then closed it behind him, making his way from the outer office into Martina’s inner sanctum. He paused at the door and closed his eyes briefly before going to the desk and automatically checking for a pulse that he knew wasn’t there. Richard Martina was slumped over his desk and by the look of things, he’d been dead for some time.

"Nai Heru Námo tirvua lahtietya, meldonya," he said softly, closing the man’s eyes. Then he went to the door and opened it, gesturing for the rangers to enter. "He must have had a heart attack or stroke," he said. "He must have sent everyone else home Wednesday night and stayed to finish up some paperwork."

Paul was checking the body to confirm what they all knew even as Kendrick was making the necessary call to the medical examiner’s office. Glorfindel just stood there, letting the Mortals deal with the necessity of getting the body removed, remembering past times with Martina. The Man had been a friend and an ally, welcoming the Elves and doing everything in his power to help them and Glorfindel had respected him highly.

"You going to be all right?" Paul asked him, giving him a shrewd look.

Glorfindel nodded, taking a deep breath. "It never gets any easier," he said and, knowing there was nothing else he could do, he walked out, leaving the rangers to deal with things as he sought the fresh air. Instinctively, he headed for the woods bordering the college, seeking solace among the trees, but there was none and, standing in the midst of the woods, he screamed.

****

How long he stayed there in the woods Glorfindel could never afterwards remember. Hours, certainly; maybe days. It didn’t matter to him. At some point he became more aware of his surroundings. He was sitting on a fallen log, unmindful of the wetness from the snow seeping into his clothes. Scenes from the last two years flitted through his mind, scenes of him and Richard Martina: the day they had a monumental argument over some trifling matter, neither one of them giving an inch until Richard attempted to swear in Sindarin, which he’d been learning, and mangling the phrase so much that Glorfindel had burst out laughing and, argument forgotten, had spent a half an hour teaching the Man proper swear words in Sindarin and Quenya; the first time Martina had visited Edhellond at their first end-of-summer picnic, happily tossing the salad and singing some aria from a Mozart opera to the amusement of the Elves; the day Martina invited Glorfindel to go fly fishing with him at Wild Lake, the two of them standing in companionable silence in water up to their hips enjoying the day; the time the two of them had spent half the night at the Blue Petrel discussing Plato and Aristotle over beers.

A host of other images came and went and with each one Glorfindel felt himself slipping deeper into grief, tears unheeded running down his cheeks.

"If you were Mortal, I would warn you about catching your death sitting in the snow like this."

Glorfindel looked up into the sympathetic gaze of the Lord of Mandos.

"Why?"

"It was his time," Námo replied. "Richard Martina was destined to leave the circles of Arda at this time regardless of what else was happening. You think the storm had something to do with his death?"

"It seems rather coincidental."

"Only from your perspective. Richard would have come to me whether he was sitting at his desk in the middle of a snowstorm making plans to keep the college safe or sitting on a beach in Tahiti sipping on a rum swizzle. It was simply his time."

"It doesn’t get any easier," Glorfindel said with a sigh.

"No, it doesn’t," Námo averred. "Would it help to know that Richard came to me willingly. Oh, there was regret and sorrow, but there was also anticipation, for he was anxious to be reunited with his beloved Stella. It was a happy reunion and now they are both in Eru’s presence and know only joy. Take comfort in that, my son, if in nothing else. Now I know you are still grieving and it will be some time before you come to acceptance, but there are four hundred other Mortals depending on you and your friends are worried for you as well. I think you’ve spent enough time getting yourself soaked to the skin."

The Vala gave him a significant look and Glorfindel nodded, rising from his seat, grimacing as he became more aware of his jeans clinging wetly to his skin. Námo gave him a smile and faded away. Glorfindel started walking out of the woods but stopped when he sensed someone approaching. From the way the person struggled through the drifts, he knew it was a Mortal and was only faintly surprised to see that it was Alex making his way toward him.

"What brings you out here?" Glorfindel asked.

"You, actually," Alex replied. "I was in the middle of playing forts with the others and I needed to take a breather. Went to lean against some tree and had this overwhelming need to come here, almost as if I were being summoned. It was weird. Tried to ignore it but even after I went back to the game I couldn’t get the sense of being summoned from my mind so I decided to find out what was going on. You okay? We heard about Martina."

"He was a friend," Glorfindel said simply.

Alex nodded. "You have my sympathy. Now I hate to sound petty, but do you think we can go? I can’t feel my nose anymore."

In spite of himself, Glorfindel grinned. "And you’re still recovering from the virus. Come. Let’s get you back inside and warm you up."

The two headed back to the Academy with Glorfindel following behind the Mortal. It took them a few minutes to reach one of the plowed walkways and Alex breathed a sigh of relief. Glorfindel could tell the Man was nearly exhausted from the effort of plowing through the snow and took his elbow to guide him. Alex didn’t protest. When they reached the Academy, Glorfindel insisted that Alex go lie down and made sure that he did before going to his office and changing out of his wet clothes. There was a knock on his door as he was brushing his hair and he called out for the person to enter. The door opened to reveal Daeron standing there, looking concerned.

"How are you faring?" he asked quietly.

Glorfindel shrugged as he stowed the brush in his toiletry bag and gathered up the wet clothes and shoved them into a plastic bag that he'd gotten from the kitchen. "I’ll be all right eventually."

Daeron nodded. "I’ve been speaking with Mayor Whitman and Marian. Richard’s son is flying up from Anchorage and should be here tomorrow. His daughter lives out of state and will be here by Monday they’re guessing. Assuming that the medical examiner finishes his examination over the weekend, Richard’s body will be released to the family on Monday. Calling hours will be Tuesday night and the funeral will be Wednesday."

Glorfindel nodded. "We’ll cancel classes on Wednesday out of respect, assuming we have power back before that."

"Well, with Richard gone, George Stillman is acting as president. He called a meeting of all administrators for two o’clock. You weren’t here, so I went in your stead. Stillman wasn’t happy to see me."

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long. I... I just needed some time alone."

"I know and I don’t blame you. I told George that something had come up at the Academy that needed your immediate attention and you’d asked me to sit in for you."

"You actually lied?" Glorfindel exlaimed with a grin. "I didn’t know you had it in you."

"It’s easy enough with Mortals," Daeron said with a sniff, "and it’s not the first time I’ve had to do so, either."

"I know and I appreciate it. So, what did George decide?"

"Right now, the main business of the day is to get the students back to their classes. If we can get power back by Monday, then classes will resume. There was some talk about closing down the campus entirely until this virus is dealt with, but John Lawrence told them it wasn’t worth it. Only about ten percent of the students and faculty are down with it and it looks as if it’s not spreading as much as everyone feared. Other than that, the biggest concern is feeding everyone while the power is still out. George is coordinating with the mayor to have food brought to the campus. The other cafeterias were closed down because none of the staff were able to make it in before the storm hit and it’s not going to be until tomorrow before they can open again."

"We were lucky that we have our own cafeteria," Glorfindel said. "Do we have enough supplies to send over to the student center?"

"I already checked with Holly, who’s been keeping inventory, and made arrangements to have some staples sent over. They’ll be dining on pancakes and applesauce but it’ll be better than cold sandwiches."

"Then I guess we’re doing all right," Glorfindel said. "As soon as power is restored completely, we’ll start moving the students back to their rooms. I want someone to go over to Edhellond and check to make sure everything’s fine there. The town may have power before we do, so as soon as we can get the place habitable again, the better. I for one want nothing more than to fall into my own bed and sleep for a week."

Daeron chuckled. "I hear you. I’ll have the Twins go over. Now that the sick have been transferred to the clinic they don’t have to deal with them anymore. They more than the rest of us have been expending a great deal of energy. I’m inclined to tell them to stay in town, go to the hotel and get a hot shower and some real sleep."

"I’ll make it an order and tell them to go there directly. Conan and Barry or Gil can go over to Edhellond instead."

Daeron nodded. "Well, you missed lunch and the second round of the snowball fight, but supper will be on soon. Jud has suggested we hold a marathon reading session, pick out some very thick book and have people take turns reading out loud, like they do with Joyce’s Ulysses every year. I don’t recommend that book, but we may be able to find something that most of the students wouldn’t mind listening to."

"That sounds fine," Glorfindel said. "Since it was Jud’s idea, have him scour the reading room and see what he can find."

"I’ll let him know," Daeron said and made his way out of the office. Glorfindel spent a couple of minutes getting his thoughts in order and then went in search of the Twins.

****

After supper, the students began reading out loud from the book they had chosen. Jud had selected three books and the students had voted on them, the majority deciding they wanted to read Alice in Wonderland. Glorfindel listened with amusement as Lucy Barton described the first encounter between Alice and the Cheshire Cat. He was vaguely aware of Cennanion and Barahir entering the cafeteria and speaking quietly to Daeron and Vorondur, but was not curious enough to leave his spot to see what was up. So, it was with some trepidation that he saw Daeron coming toward him, his expression carefully neutral. He sighed inwardly, wondering what new disaster was in the offing.

When Daeron reached him, he bent down and whispered into his ear, "There’s a problem."

"So I gathered," Glorfindel whispered back, getting up from where he’d been sitting and following the loremaster out to the corridor. Cennanion, Barahir and Vorondur joined them.

"Well?" Glorfindel demanded.

The other four Elves exchanged looks and then Barahir sighed. "We checked the mansion. The storm did some major damage to the trees. One of the taller pines was brought down by the weight of the ice and snow and crashed into the house."

"What is the extent of the damage?" Glorfindel asked faintly.

"The tree crashed through the roof and attic, so snow and ice piled up inside the third-floor bedroom below and there’s extensive water damage to the bedroom on the second floor."

"Whose room?" Glorfindel asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

"Yours, I’m afraid," Barahir replied, casting him a sympathetic look.

"We won’t know until we can get the tree removed and do a thorough check before we can figure what the cost will be to repair everything," Cennanion added.

"My room?" Glorfindel asked.

Both Cennanion and Barahir nodded.

"Why not?" Glorfindel asked rhetorically, throwing his hands up in a gesture of defeat. "Why shouldn’t it be my room and not someone else’s? As if things aren’t complicated enough, now I don’t even have a bed to sleep in."

"Now, don’t exaggerate, mellon nîn," Daeron protested. "There are plenty of other rooms available. I know it’s a shock but things could have been much worse than they are."

"Oh?" Glorfindel gave him a skeptical look. "And how, pray tell, could they be worse? Richard is dead, my bedroom is in ruins, we have no power, we’re running low on food and supplies, and I’m ready to tell the Valar to take a flying leap and find someone else to spit on, so how can it be any worse?"

"You could be dead," Vorondur answered before Daeron could reply.

"Been there, done that," Glorfindel retorted with a sniff.

"Or every one of those children in the cafeteria could be dead," Vorondur continued as if he’d not heard Glorfindel, "or the Dagor Dagorath could have been launched in the middle of the storm, or…."

"All right! I get your point."

"Do you?" Vorondur asked, his eyes narrowing. "It’s very easy to be self-indulgent when things go badly, believing you’re the target for all the badness that is being thrown at you, but you’ve been through much worse than this, Glorfindel. Would you be this upset if the tree had landed in my bedroom instead?"

Glorfindel had the grace to blush at the reprimand. "Sorry, you’re right. I guess I’m letting all this get to me more than I should."

"You have the unenviable task of being the leader of us all and you are dealing with many things at once, but you’re not alone and we’re here to help in any capacity that we can," Vorondur said, speaking more gently. "You let us worry about the house. You just concentrate on those children in there." He nodded toward the cafeteria. "They are of more importance than a house that can be repaired."

"I informed the mayor as soon as we saw the extent of the damage," Barahir said. "He said he would have a crew out to remove the tree tomorrow and arrange to have that part of the roof covered and the snow removed until they can deal with it. If we don’t have another storm soon, they might be able to put up a temporary roof that will hold until spring."

"We took the liberty of salvaging everything we could from your room," Barahir said, "and moved them into the Imladris room."

Glorfindel nodded. "Thank you. I guess we should go back inside."

The others nodded and they went in to listen to the students read about Alice’s adventures, but Glorfindel’s heart was no longer in it and after a couple of minutes he excused himself and went down to his office. He sat there, staring out the window, wondering what else or who else would become a casualty of the storm.

****

Nai Heru Námo triuva lahtietya, meldonya: (Quenya) ‘Lord Námo guard your passing over, my friend’.

39: Night Raid

Late Sunday afternoon, the power came back completely. The students cheered and applauded as they bundled up their sleeping gear and headed back to their rooms, most of them returning to the cafeteria to help put the tables and chairs back where they belonged. Grace and some of the other kitchen staff had returned that morning and had summarily thrown the Elves out so they could get back to work. The Elves happily relinquished their suzerainty over the kitchen, though Holly remained long enough to let Grace know what supplies had been used so she could order more now that the roads were open.

Glorfindel remained distant and uninvolved, letting Daeron and the others handle the students. He spent much of Sunday wandering through the woods, and when the other Elves indicated they wished to return to Edhellond, he did not join them. Instead, he went into Wiseman and checked into the Goldmine Inn, stating he had no desire to see the destruction caused by the tree. He asked Daeron to pack some clothes for him and bring them over to the inn.

"Do you mean to stay here until the roof is fixed and your bedroom restored?" Daeron asked him as Glorfindel set about unpacking the suitcase Daeron had brought with him.

"No. That would be impractical and even I couldn’t afford it," Glorfindel replied. "I just can’t face going back to Edhellond right now. I’ll wait until the temporary repairs have been made before I return."

"Mayor Whitman assured me that the town will do what it can to effect repairs as quickly as possible. I’ve seen the damage myself. It’s not quite as bad as you would think. Barry says that only the third-floor bedroom will need to be gutted out and rebuilt, but your room just needs a new ceiling and new carpeting. The furniture and floors are fine."

"Well, I’ve been meaning to repaint anyway," Glorfindel said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I guess this will be a good time to pick out colors."

"What you need is rest," Daeron said, giving him a shrewd look. "Your light is very dim. I think you expended more of yourself than even you are aware of. I know Richard’s death was unexpected and you are still grieving for him, as are we all, but I hope you understand that there was nothing you could have done. By the time you went to check on the building, he was already gone. If it weren’t for the storm, I imagine he would’ve died in his bed instead of at his desk."

"I try not to care," Glorfindel said, staring at nothing in particular, his posture one of defeat. "I try not to think about the fact that, someday, none of these people will be here, that while we continue to go on, every one of them will be gone — Marian, Deirdre, Zach, Caleb...."

Daeron sat beside him and wrapped an arm around Glorfindel’s shoulders, giving him a hug. "No, mellon nîn. Do not think about that. It is a given with any Mortal, whether we befriend them or not. This is our special burden and I know how hard it is, we all do. We try not to get involved with them and their lives, and it was easier when we simply had to live alongside them, without them touching our own lives. But now, thanks to the Belain, we are forced to live among them for the first time in our history, to be a part of their lives as much as they are a part of ours. We are doing what we were meant to and did not when Men first arose. And you know, I think if you were to ask our Mortal friends about it, most of them would give you a blank look, for they would not understand the problem."

Glorfindel nodded. "I suppose."

Daeron patted him on the arm and stood. "I’d best get going. Ron has suggested that we take turns standing watch over the students for another day or two. He thinks some of them may have trouble sleeping. The last few days were traumatic for many of them, especially those who’ve never experienced living through a blizzard or ice storm and having no power. He wants us to be on hand in case some of them have a need to talk."

Glorfindel nodded. "I agree. Let me take a shower and I’ll join you."

"That you will not," Daeron said firmly. "You are not to return to the Academy until tomorrow. Ron’s orders. You are to sleep. The Twins have had ten hours of sleep and will take the first watch along with Sarah and Alfa. Ron, Holly, Daisy and Barry will take the second watch. We’ll switch off tomorrow night, so you can join the watch then if you so desire. Hopefully, we’ll only have to do this for a couple of nights and perhaps it’s entirely unnecessary, but I respect Ron’s judgment about these things. Unlike the rest of us, he’s actually studied Human behavior and has dealt with them more than the rest of us have."

"Very well. I’ll let you handle things for a while. I’ll see you tomorrow."

"And if you need to talk, just give me a call and I’ll come over."

"Thank you."

Daeron left and Glorfindel took a shower, lingering in it and reveling in the hot water that seemed to wash away more than four-days’ worth of dirt from his body. Afterwards, he threw on a robe and called down to room service to order some dinner and when it came, ate and then crawled into the bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling. It was some time before he finally fell asleep.

****

The storm had prevented delivery of the mattresses for Alex and Derek’s room and they weren’t expected to arrive for another day or two. Alex and Derek were resigned to having to sleep on the floor still, but Elrohir stopped at Edhellond and retrieved a couple of air mattresses from storage and brought them to the Academy, so the two Mortals were able to sleep in relative comfort, placing the mattresses on the bed frames.

Alex, however, kept waking up, convinced that something was wrong. Yet, every time he woke, all was quiet. Derek was fast asleep on the other side of the room and there were no unidentified noises. After the third time waking from a sound sleep, still feeling troubled, he got up and, putting on his robe, stepped outside, deciding to go down to the reading room and read for a while until he felt ready to sleep again. He was coming down the stairs to the first floor when he encountered one of the Twins.

"Having trouble sleeping?" Elladan asked solicitously.

Alex shrugged. "I keep waking up thinking something is terribly wrong but everything is quiet. Decided I would read for a while. Maybe it’s just nerves or something."

"Do you think your sense of wrongness has anything to do with Derek?" Elladan asked. "You seem to be convinced that he is in danger. We suspect that is what drove you from the clinic at the height of the storm, risking frostbite if not death to get back here."

Alex shrugged again. "I honestly don’t know. I’ve always had this danger sense, as I call it. It’s saved my life more times than I can count. I can’t dismiss it or ignore it. Something is wrong, but I don’t know what or who."

Elladan gave him a considering look and then nodded, closing his eyes for a long moment. Alex watched him with something like wariness, not sure what was happening, so he was rather surprised when several Elves simply showed up from different directions. Elladan opened his eyes and smiled knowingly at him, as if he knew what he was thinking.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Neat trick," he said as nonchalantly as possible, though his heart was racing as he felt a sense of awe at the Elf’s display of mental powers.

"You called?" Elrohir said to his twin with a quirk of a smile on his lips.

"Alex senses trouble," Elladan replied.

Now Elrohir’s demeanor sobered and Alex stood in wonder at the transformation, noticing the unconscious movement of a hand reaching for a sword that wasn’t there, seeing the eyes darken with the light of impending battle. Here was a warrior, such a one as Alex had rarely encountered among his own people, and he stood there heartily glad he was not this Elf’s enemy. Elrohir gave him a searching look.

"Do you know where the threat comes from?"

"No. I’m not even sure there is one, but I’ve woken three times from a sound sleep in the last two hours convinced that something was wrong. I actually was coming down to the reading room to find a book to read, hoping it would help me to sleep. This feeling of something being wrong is too nebulous for me to act on it. Yet, I’ve had this same feeling at other times in my life and somehow knew that I needed to go to a particular place or I needed not to do a certain action and then I learned later that in following my instincts, I escaped from certain death. This has the same feeling to it, but I don’t know what it means."

The four Elves remained silent for a time, digesting what Alex had told them. Alex stood there trying not to fidget, feeling stupid and unsure of himself before these ancient beings. Finally, Elladan stirred and spoke to his brother in Quenya. Elrohir nodded then turned to Alex.

"With your permission, I’ll go and watch over Derek. Serindë and Alphwen will continue patrolling the corridors on the women’s side."

The ellith nodded. "We’ll check the classrooms as well," Alphwen said and both ellyn nodded.

"Do you really think it necessary to guard Derek?" Alex asked. "I know I keep feeling he’s in danger, but it just might be my imagination."

"Better to be safe than sorry," Elrohir said, then turned to his brother. "I’ll check out the rooms on Alex’s floor before I look in on Derek if you want to check out the rest of the floors."

Elladan nodded. "Come with me," he said to Alex, taking him by the elbow and leading him towards the reading room while the others went their separate ways.

"I really feel stupid about this," Alex protested.

"Your fears may prove groundless, Nephew, but your bloodline is prone to experiencing foreknowledge which should not be dismissed out of hand."

Alex stopped in his tracks. "What did you call me?"

Elladan gave him an amused look. "Nephew. I called you nephew. You come from the same bloodline as Roy and I through our sister, Arwen, and her husband, Aragorn, who was also our foster brother. Elves do not concern themselves with generations when assigning blood ties. You are a son of our sister and therefore our nephew." He then gave Alex a sly look. "And if you are also a descendant of the House of Galador of Dol Amroth, that makes Misty your grandmother."

Alex stared at him in disbelief, finally shaking his head. "I don’t think I even want to go there."

Elladan chuckled. "Well I doubt if Misty will insist you call her daernana, so I wouldn’t worry about it. Now, I’ll check the rooms on this side and you do the other side."

Alex nodded, and headed for the lounge, which looked out onto the front. He did not have to go inside, for the door was glass and he could see into it. The drapes were closed and there was no one there, so he headed for the game room that was on the other side of the foyer area, keeping to the inner wall. Light from outside streamed in from a nearby street light, illuminating the area. There was precious little cover but Alex was an expert in sneaking about and took advantage of the pools of darkness where the light did not reach. Once past the foyer he made his way into the game room. Unlike the lounge, this had a solid door so he couldn’t just look in.

He opened the door slowly, being careful not to turn on a light. The room was empty, as he expected. He caught a glimpse of the outside where a drape was not entirely closed. He was about to leave to go to the next room when some indefinable movement caught his eye. He made his way along the perimeter of the room, crouching behind the pool tables so he wasn’t immediately visible to anyone standing outside, until he reached the outer wall, then slowly peeked out, being careful not to disturb the drapes that hung there.

At first he saw nothing but a snow-shrouded landscape lit by a nearly full moon, the light casting weird shadows. Then, there was a slight movement beside a nearby tree. Alex narrowed his eyes, willing to see who was standing there, for he could see a figure of a man cast in shadow, apparently watching the building, though he could not see who it was. He was about to leave and find Elladan and warn him when the figure shifted its position just enough for moonlight to fall upon his face.

Farrell!

Alex hissed in surprise and growing anger. Still keeping to a crouch, he half crawled across the floor to the door and exited the room, straightening only when he’d closed the door behind him. He turned to see Elladan stepping out of the reading room on the other side of the foyer. He gestured to him and Elladan swiftly crossed the foyer. Alex noted with admiration the fluid way in which the Elf traversed the area, keeping to the shadows.

"It’s Farrell," he said with a grimace when Elladan reached him. "He’s standing outside watching."

Elladan raised an eyebrow. "Interesting." He pulled out his phone and speed dialed a number. "Farrell is standing outside," was all he said and then shut down the phone. He gave Alex a predatory grin. "Should we invite the poor man in to warm up, do you think? It would only be polite."

Alex grinned back. "But not without proper backup. I wish I had some of my weapons on hand but they’re in my car."

"Don’t worry," Elladan said as he headed for the stairs at that end of the hall on the women’s side of the building while Alex followed. "Backup is on its way. Roy will meet us and then we’ll give our unexpected guest a proper greeting."

Alex just nodded, wondering in what manner these Elves would give Farrell a ‘proper greeting’.

They reached the stairs just as Elrohir was descending them. "Backup is on the way," he said when he saw them. "Where is he?" he asked Alex.

"He was by that stand of pine trees that fronts the game room, though he could’ve changed his position in the meantime."

"Who did you call?" Elladan asked.

Elrohir grinned. "Amroth, and he wasn’t very happy. I think I may have interrupted something. I could hear Della sighing very loudly in the background when Amroth said he was on his way."

Both Elladan and Alex grinned, having a pretty good idea just what it was Elrohir had interrupted. Alex’s expression sobered after a moment.

"So what now? What does Farrell hope to accomplish other than freeze certain parts of his anatomy off standing out there in the middle of the night? You know, there are at least three other agents we’ve never identified. Something doesn’t add up."

"Could the others be out there, as well, do you think?" Elrohir asked.

Alex shrugged. "If so, why? Unless they are trying to find a way inside for some reason...." He paused, thinking things through and nodded. "Farrell is getting desperate, I think, or he’s gotten new orders. Either way, that could spell trouble for us. If they’re trying to get in for some reason...."

He was interrupted by the sound of Elrohir’s phone ringing. The Elf answered it, speaking English, apparently for Alex’s sake. "Where are you?" He paused to listen, nodding. "Alex said he was standing by the pines fronting the game room. Be mindful. Those other agents may be about. They may be trying to get inside." He paused again. "We’ll be ready," he said, then closed down the phone, giving his brother a significant look. "Amroth brought Barry, Gil and Conan with him. They’re one building over. Amroth will look after Farrell while the others go hunting for any other spies."

"How did they get here so quickly?" Alex asked perplexed. "Even if they drove like madmen, they still wouldn’t be here for another ten minutes."

The Twins merely grinned. "We have our ways," was all Elladan said, then he turned to his brother. "What about the ellith?"

"I met them on my way here and told them to stay out of the way until this is all over." He gave them a sardonic look. "Serindë didn’t take kindly to my ordering her about, but Alphwen set her straight on that score."

"Oh?" Alex couldn’t help saying, with a lift of an eyebrow.

Elrohir merely nodded. "She reminded my betrothed that in our culture, warriors are never to be questioned, only obeyed, as our orders often meant the difference between life and death. Only our lords can countermand any orders a warrior might give. At the moment, Dan and I are the supreme commanders, if you will, and anyone inside this building is subject to our orders. When Amroth comes, he’ll take over, at least until Glorfindel arrives."

"What does Amroth want us to do?" Elladan asked, diverting Alex’s attention.

"Make sure the front door is unlocked so they can make a quick entrance and to secure a room for our guests until Daeron can get here with Glorfindel."

"I’ll go open the door," Elladan said, "and you can...."

At that moment, the hall lights, dimmed for nighttime, went out, plunging them into complete darkness, save for the glow of the emergency exit sign at the far end of the hall.

"Damn! They’ve cut the power," Alex said. "Derek! They know which room is mine." He started up the stairs, taking them two at a time in spite of the fact that he was racing up them in total darkness.

"Alex, wait!" Elrohir cried but Alex ignored him, already undoing the belt of his robe and slipping it off him to drop on the floor, though he took the belt with him, intending to use it as a weapon, and in Alex’s hands, even a piece of string was a deadly weapon. He reached the third floor and stopped, letting his eyes adjust to the greater darkness. He silently cursed the fact that he was at the wrong end of the hall. He had two choices: to move to his right down the corridor past the women’s rooms, then make his way around through the back wing, or go left through the cafeteria. He was assuming that the intruders would be coming in from the emergency exit door at the other end of the men’s dorm, for they would’ve seen the door on the women’s side open if that had been their route. It made sense, since he was sure that either he or Derek or possibly both of them were the intended targets.

He made his way as swiftly as he could through the lounge area and into the cafeteria, thankful that the moonlight gave him enough light to see by. Once he reached the other lounge he paused at the glass door, surprised to see Elrohir crouched on the top step of the stairs. He motioned Alex with a raised hand, warning him. Alex nodded, opening the door a crack and listening. His room was the seventh one on the left, closer to the other end of the hall. There was a muffled sound that he couldn’t quite identify and then a surprised yell. Before he was even out the door, Elrohir was halfway down the hall. In the almost absolute blackness, save for the lurid light of the emergency exit signs at both ends of the hall, Alex could barely make out the dark forms of a couple of men who were at his door. He nearly tripped over a body, stopping long enough to check for a pulse, assuring himself that the person, whoever he was, was merely knocked out.

The sound of a scuffle and muffled yells brought him back to the situation at hand and he was racing down the hall. He could make out a couple of people running toward him from the far end and, from the faint glow of their bodies, realized they were the ellith. Neither Elrohir nor the intruders were in sight, for they had crashed through the door. When Alex reached it, ready to lend a hand, he found that he was too late. Elrohir was rising from having taken down one of the intruders, now lying unconscious, and Derek, cursing in what sounded like a mixture of Japanese and Spanish, with a few choice phrases in Sindarin thrown in for good measure, was standing on his bed with his arms wrapped around the neck of the other intruder in a stranglehold.

"My first good night of sleep in a week and you bozos have to go and ruin it," he exclaimed in unfeigned disgust. "What’s to stop me from breaking your stupid neck, huh?" He tightened his arm across the man’s neck, forcing a gurgle of pain out of his captive.

"Maybe it’s because that would mean even more paperwork for the police."

Alex turned to see Amroth standing there, giving them all an amused look. He was glowing ever so slightly.

"Hey why are we all glowing and why are we standing here in the dark and where the hell is Alex?" Alex heard Derek ask. He turned and saw that Elrohir was taking the man from Derek, who, like his partner, had been wearing a night scope. The Elf tied the intruder up with the robe belt Alex handed him, then, taking one of Derek’s dirty socks that happened to be lying on the floor, he shoved it into the man’s mouth to keep him quiet.

"I’m here by the door," Alex replied. "The power’s been cut."

"Again? That’s just great."

Alex ignored his roommate’s grousing, turning to Amroth. "Where’s Farrell?" he asked.

Amroth grimaced. "That son of an orc eluded me. I think as soon as he saw that the lights were out, he hopped into his car and ran. For all we know, he’s heading for a rendevous point where these two were supposed to bring you and Derek." He gave a cold glance at the two intruders. "He’s going to be waiting a long time."

Meanwhile, some of the students were coming out of their rooms with flashlights, investigating the noises, wondering why the power was out. One of them gave a cry of alarm and Alex looked out to see George Calhoun bending over the body Alex had tripped over earlier and saw that it was George’s roommate, Jack Whitman. Alphwen and Serindë were there assuring the young man that his friend was only unconscious. Elladan was also there, speaking softly to the other students, assuring them that all was well and sending them back to their rooms. With Elladan’s help, Alphwen was able to convince George to return to his room as well.

"Let’s take this somewhere more private," Amroth ordered. "Alfa, you and Sarah take Jack to the lounge and make him comfortable."

"What do we tell him when he awakens?" Alphwen asked.

"Tell him that some people broke into the Academy for reasons unknown and he was just unlucky enough to meet them. Assure him that all is well but keep him there until either I or Loren have had a chance to talk with him."

Alphwen nodded and between her and Serindë they were able to carry the young man down the hall to the lounge.

"Let’s hope we can keep this quiet," Amroth said to the rest of them. "I don’t want the mayor to know that his son was attacked by government agents." He bent down and easily lifted the unconscious man into his arms while Elrohir dragged the other man out of the room.

Alex gave Derek a concerned look as his roommate climbed off his bed. "You okay?"

"Sure, mate. After all, I always get up at two in the morning to arm-wrestle with dudes in black."

Alex grinned. "C’mon. Let’s go see why these particular dudes in black had the temerity to disturb your beauty sleep."

Derek grabbed his robe and his own flashlight. "I’m right behind you."

They made their way down the hall, following the Elves who were heading toward the back wing, apparently to one of the administrative offices on the first floor. They made an odd procession and Alex was wondering how they were going to explain this to Derek or the police, assuming the Elves bothered to call them. He had the suspicion that these ancient beings were not above taking matters into their own hands, leaving the Mortal authorities out of the equation. Not that he particularly cared, but the Agency might take a dim view of having a couple of their agents disposed of by ‘civilians’.

As they reached the first floor, the emergency door opened and Cennanion stepped inside. "Barry and Gil are checking to see where the wires were cut. I’m afraid we’re out of power again until a repair crew can be brought out to replace the wires. We’ll get the generators going in a while."

"That’s just great," Derek muttered. "Just who are these bozos and why did they try to grab me? Or were they after you?" He turned to Alex. "Just where were you while all this was going down?"

"Trying to rescue you," Alex replied. "And be grateful I was awake, because I knew something bad was about to go down. I met Dan and Roy and warned them and we were making plans when the lights went out, so we were already on our way to your rescue. Not that you looked as if you needed rescuing." He gave him a grin.

"Six years in the Navy, a man learns a few tricks," Derek said with a sniff, "but that still doesn’t answer my questions as to who and why."

"Let’s go to my office and see if we can straighten this out," Amroth said. "Loren and Darren should be here soon."

"I’ll go to the foyer and meet them," Cennanion suggested and at Amroth’s nod he headed off.

The others continued on and Elladan opened the door to Amroth’s office, allowing Amroth and Elrohir to bring in their captives. Amroth unceremoniously dropped his burden on the floor in a corner, though he was careful to make sure the man didn’t hit his head on the floor. Elrohir had the other man sit, asking Derek for the loan of his robe belt, using it to tie the man into the chair. Only moonlight gave them illumination. Amroth was rifling through the unconscious man’s pockets, pulling out a wallet. He stepped to the window to examine the contents, pulling out a driver’s license.

"Robert Snyder... hmm...according to this, he’s from Chandalar."

"Well, we don’t have agents living in Chandalar," Alex said. "It’s probably a fake I.D."

"And what agents are these and how do you know?" Derek asked.

Before Alex could formulate a reply, there was the sound of several people approaching. They all looked to see Daeron with Glorfindel, who was looking very displeased, and one other, who turned out to be Sheriff Graff. At Amroth’s enquiring look, Daeron merely shrugged.

"I felt it necessary to alert the authorities," he said.

Graff, meanwhile was shining a flashlight into the face of the unconscious man. "Well, well, Bobby Snyder, as I live and breathe."

"You know him?" Glorfindel asked sharply and the others looked upon the sheriff with surprise.

Graff didn’t answer immediately, shining his light on the other man, who winced and turned his head against the glare. Graff smiled coldly. "Burrill Ersck. My, my. Will wonders never cease."

"Who are they?" Glorfindel demanded angrily. "You don’t recognize them?" he asked Alex who shook his head.

"Burrill Ersck and Bobby Snyder," Graff said, giving them a nod, looking rather like the cat having caught the canary. "Burrill here is wanted for armed robbery and assault and Bobby, well Bobby’s been Chandalar’s bad boy for years, always getting in one scrape or another. We think he was involved in a series of break-ins at the resorts over the summer but could never prove it. What they were doing here together, though, that’s a nice little puzzle."

"They were wearing these," Amroth said, shoving the night scopes into Graff’s hands. The sheriff gave a surprised whistle.

"And how did Farrell recruit them?" Alex asked.

"Who’s Farrell?" Graff asked, giving Alex a hard stare.

"Someone who is not your concern," Amroth said smoothly and when Graff looked to protest he continued. "No, Carl, there are some things you don’t need to know about for your own safety. Let us just say that certain people are interested in us and we are doing what we can to persuade them that they should go play somewhere else. Alex Grant is giving us a hand."

"Okay, what is an ex-translator doing giving you guys a hand in anything?" Derek demanded.

Alex sighed, looking to Glorfindel and Amroth for support. Glorfindel’s expression was unreadable and Alex had the uneasy feeling that the Elf-lord was very close to exploding. He noticed Daeron laying a hand on Glorfindel’s arm and the ellon visibly relaxed, taking a deep breath. It was Amroth who answered Derek.

"There are things that we need to explain to you, son, but not right now. Can you at least trust us and hold off your questions for later? I promise, we will explain as much as we can. I think you deserve to know the truth, all things considered."

For a moment, Derek studied the Elf’s face, as if trying to gauge Amroth’s sincerity while Alex was nearly holding his breath, wondering what his friend would say. Finally, Derek nodded. "I can live with that... for now."

"Thank you," Amroth said with all sincerity and Alex breathed again.

In the meantime, Graff was speaking with Glorfindel and Daeron. "How do you want to handle this then?"

"As quietly as possible," Daeron said. "Give us one hour with them and then they’re all yours. Put it down to breaking and entering. You have Snyder’s record for that, so that shouldn’t be a stretch. Ersck may be a different problem, but I think if we can keep it local, it should be all right."

"One hour," Graff said. "I’m ignoring more rules and regulations than I care to count in letting you people have your way, but I’m not about to argue with any of you. I’ll give you that hour. I need to make arrangements for transport and wake up Judge Harrison and see what we can do to put these two away nice and quiet without any fuss. Ersck has been on our wanted list for some time, so having him in custody will make all of us happy and we won’t care who’s throwing away the key. Snyder may be a different problem but you let us worry about that. Anyone injured in all this?"

"Jack Whitman," Elrohir answered. "He was coming out of the bathroom and was knocked out. Alfa and Sarah are with him in the third floor lounge."

Graff grimaced. "Great. That’s all I need. Is there any way to not tell Harry his son was attacked?"

"We can speak with Jack and ask him to remain quiet about it," Elladan said. "He was not seriously injured and should make a full recovery in a couple of days."

"Fine. If you have any problems with him, let me know. I used to change his diapers. I know how to blackmail him to stay quiet." The sheriff gave them a knowing smile.

The others all chuckled at that. Then Graff became more serious, giving Glorfindel a stern look. "One hour, then they’re mine. Please don’t rough them up so much I can’t ignore it and risk a cry of police brutality."

"Don’t worry, Carl," Amroth said, giving the Man a feral look that made Alex feel suddenly afraid, "we won’t lay a single finger on them, but they will tell us what we want to know."

"Okay. I’ll go check on Harry’s boy and call for backup." With that, Graff left.

Amroth spoke to Elrohir. "Let’s wake Snyder and then we’ll have our little chat. Daeron, you want to take Alex and Derek up to the cafeteria and get us some coffee? I think we would all like some."

"I want to be in on the interrogation," Alex protested.

"And I ain’t movin’ until I get answers," Derek said.

But Glorfindel shook his head. "No. You two don’t need to be here for this. Go with Darren. If you cooperate, we’ll tell you everything. If you don’t, I’ll have Dan and Roy take you to your room and lock you in and neither of you can ever hope to best them if you put up a struggle. It’s your choice."

Alex was ready to argue but Derek put out a hand. "We’ll go but under protest. I, for one, resent being treated like some kid. Last time I looked, you weren’t my dad."

"No, I’m not," Glorfindel replied, "and I respect your feelings but I am the administrator for this school and I’m asking you to cooperate."

"C’mon, Alex. Let’s go make some coffee and check on poor Jack while the grown-ups play Miami Vice with these bozos."

Alex grimaced. "Let’s just hope you get the answers we need," he said in a parting shot to Glorfindel as he exited the room. "Farrell hired these two. I want to know why."

"As do we. As soon as we learn anything, we’ll let you know." With that, Glorfindel shut the door, leaving them outside.

"Come," Daeron said, giving them both a faint smile and he headed down the hall to the stairs. As they were climbing the stairs, the hall lights flickered and then stayed on, and Derek turned off his flashlight.

"Let’s stop at our room on the way and get dressed," Derek suggested. "I have a feeling we’re up for the duration."

Alex agreed and that is what they did, all the while wondering just how the interrogation was going.

****

Daernana: (Sindarin) Assumed hypocoristic form of Daernaneth: Grandmother.

40: Explanations

Alex, Derek and Daeron made their way to the cafeteria, stopping at the lounge where they found Jack Whitman still unconscious, or rather, sleeping, with the two ellith softly singing over him.

"He came to a few minutes ago," Alphwen told them. "He was naturally disoriented, but he knew who he was and where he was. We felt it best that he sleep until Loren can speak with him."

"We’re on our way to make some coffee for everyone," Daeron explained.

"I wouldn’t mind some cocoa myself even if it isn’t Roy’s," Alphwen said.

"We can do that, too," Daeron replied with a smile and then the three men made their way into the cafeteria and the kitchen. Daeron ordered Alex and Derek to make the cocoa while he put together the coffee. "And I think we’ll heat up some of these cinnamon rolls as well," he added, pulling a tray out of the refrigerator. "I see Grace has them all ready to be baked. I’m sure she won’t mind if we take some for ourselves."

With that, they set about putting the coffee and cocoa together while the rolls were browning in the oven. Serindë came in at one point to get a glass of water for Jack, who had woken again, complaining of thirst. She spoke to Daeron softly in Sindarin, too softly for either Mortal to make out, and after a moment, returned to the lounge.

All the while, neither Alex nor Derek spoke, except when necessary to complete their tasks. "Let’s set everything up in the cafeteria," Daeron finally said as he pulled the rolls out of the oven and proceeded to swirl icing over them. Alex grabbed the coffee while Derek brought out the cocoa and then went back for some mugs, plates and silverware, setting everything on a nearby table.

"How long do you think it’s going to be?" Derek finally asked as the two of them finished arranging the table to their satisfaction.

"Graff’s giving them one hour," Alex said. "That hour’s almost up, so it shouldn’t be too long."

Even as he spoke, they noticed that there were lights outside. Going to the windows they could see two sheriff’s cars stopping before the front door and Graff stepping out along with another officer. Then they were lost to their view as they came inside the building. The two went back to the table and sat as Daeron came out bearing a plate of cinnamon rolls.

"Sheriff’s here," Alex told him and the Elf nodded.

"Why don’t you go see how Alfa and Sarah are doing, let them know that the coffee is on," Daeron suggested and the two Mortals gave each other shrugs and did as they were bid.

In the lounge they saw that Jack was awake again and Glorfindel was there, sitting next to him, speaking softly as he gently stroked the young Man’s hair. Alphwen and Serindë were standing nearby speaking with Elrohir and Elladan. Elrohir had his arm around Serindë. Both ellyn looked wan to Alex’s discerning eye and there was an aura of fatigue surrounding them.

"Coffee’s on, if anyone’s interested," Alex said as he approached the four Elves. Even as he was speaking, Barahir, Cennanion and Gilvegil were coming into the lounge with Amroth behind them. Amroth looked almost grey.

"Good," he said grimly. "I can use some." Without waiting to see if anyone else was following, he headed to the cafeteria. Cennanion, Gilvegil and Barahir joined him.

Glorfindel looked up. "I’m going to see Jack back to his room and then I’ll join you," he said, and he stood, helping Jack up and left the lounge. Everyone else went into the cafeteria where they found Daeron busy serving those already there. The coffee seemed to be helping, for Amroth looked less haggard.

"What happened to the two goons?" Alex asked him as he took his own mug of coffee and one of the cinnamon rolls.

"Safely in custody," Amroth answered. "And good riddance to such scum. I think I need a brain scrub after that little interview."

"What happened? What did they tell you?" Alex demanded impatiently. "How did Farrell find them?"

Amroth raised a hand. "One thing at a time, son," he said. "We need to regain some of our strength before we start explaining things to you two. You have no idea how much it cost us to do what we did and we should wait for Loren."

"He’s seeing Jack to his room, so he shouldn’t be long," Elrohir said from where he sat with Serindë by his side.

A couple of minutes later, Glorfindel came in, accepting the mug that Daeron handed to him with a nod of thanks, drank half of it in one gulp and then sat, giving a sigh. Those who’d been standing found seats of their own. After a minute or two of people concentrating on eating and drinking, Glorfindel looked over at Alex and Derek.

"We are really in a bind here," he said.

"How so?" Alex asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Rather than answering him, Glorfindel turned to Derek. "How are you doing?"

Derek gave a shrug. "I’m fine, considering that I’m working on three hours of sleep. I’d be a lot better if you would explain what the hell is going on here. Who were those goons and why were they after me or Alex? Were they after us?"

"Yes, they were and the why of that is what we must speak of, but Derek, what you are about to learn is something you cannot speak about to anyone unless we tell you otherwise. Do you think you can handle that? If not, you’re free to leave now and no one here will think the less of you."

"And end up dying of extreme curiosity instead?" Derek asked rhetorically, shaking his head. "I wasn’t just a swabbie. I was with Naval Intelligence. Oh, I don’t mean I was a spy or anything. I was just an analyzer of information. I handled sensitive information on a regular basis and had top security clearance for everything but the most hush-hush. I know how and when to keep my mouth shut."

Everyone, including Alex, gave him appraising looks, while Derek sat there smirking over his coffee mug. "And you thought I was just another pretty face, didn’t you?" he asked nobody in particular.

They all laughed at that and the tension eased somewhat around them.

"Very well," Glorfindel said. "To begin with, everything you’ve been learning about Elves is true."

"Excuse me?" Derek demanded. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just this: there truly are such things as Elves. Other than Alex, you are sitting in a room full of Elves." With that, he pushed back his hair to reveal his ears and all the other Elves did the same. Alex sat there giving Derek a sympathetic smile as he watched the play of emotions on his friend’s face.

For a long moment, Derek just sat there, glancing at them one at a time, finally landing his gaze on Alex, his eyes narrowing. "And how long have you known?"

"Not long, just since the weekend I spent with them."

"Okay. Well, that explains a lot of things that weren’t adding up."

"You don’t seem very surprised," Alex said, giving him a suspicious look. "Are you telling me you’d already guessed that Elves were real?"

"No, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that things weren’t exactly kosher around here. Sindarin, for instance. It’s too detailed, with the usual kinds of inconsistencies that are found in all natural languages that generally don’t show up in artificial languages like Esperanto. No one would actually make up something like archaic nasalized stop mutations unless they were truly evil."

The Elves all laughed at that but Alex merely scowled.

"You never gave any indication that you were suspicious of all that," he said accusingly.

Derek lifted an eyebrow. "You don’t play poker that much, do you?" he asked rhetorically.

Before Alex could offer a retort, Glorfindel raised his hand. "Enough. Derek, I’m glad you are taking this as calmly as you are. You would’ve been brought in on our secret eventually, but circumstances have forced our hand. Now, there will be more than enough time to fill you in on details, but for now, we’ll just tell you that the ultimate purpose for Elf Academy is not to train people to be Elf Guides for the tourist industry, although that is something we will continue doing for the foreseeable future, but we are actually preparing the way for the Dagor Dagorath, which you’ve learned about in the history class."

"Yeah, that Armageddon thing," Derek said with a nod. "So, you’re what? Training us to fight for real?"

"Yes. Those who join with us, and that includes the people of Wiseman and the surrounding towns, will someday be the vanguard of the Army of Light that will stand against Morgoth. No one knows when that will be but we’ve been commissioned to prepare Mortals for that day when we will once again fight side-by-side."

"Commissioned by whom?" Derek asked.

"By the Valar," Glorfindel answered, "and yes, they and their Maiarin servants are for real. You met some of them at Winterdark Tarn."

"The hikers who rescued Alex and Caleb?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"Yes. They were sent by Lord Námo to effect a rescue," Glorfindel said.

Derek sat there for a moment, frowning at nothing in particular as he thought on what Glorfindel had told him. Finally, he looked up at the Elf-Lord. "So your name really is Glorfindel, isn’t it?"

"Yes, it is, and we will introduce ourselves properly later, but for now, just continue calling us by our Mortal names."

"Fine. So, what was tonight all about?"

"Well, that’s where it gets a little complicated."

Derek sat back in his chair, giving them a brief smile. "I’m all ears," he said as he took another sip of his coffee.

Glorfindel glanced, first at Amroth and then at Alex. "Do you tell him, or should I?" he asked.

Alex sighed, then turned to Derek. "You’re not the only one who has a background in intelligence work."

"You?"

Alex nodded. "I’m with an agency connected with Homeland Security and the CIA. In point of fact, I’m a spy and Alex Grant is not my real name."

Derek stared at him with narrowed eyes. "So what is your name?" he finally asked.

But Alex shook his head. "It would be better if you continue to think of me as Alex Grant."

"Okay, I can see that," Derek said with a nod. "Makes it less likely for me to slip up, but now explain to me what the hell is Homeland Security or the CIA doing shoving their noses into the affairs of this Academy? Don’t they have better things to do with themselves?"

"Alex is here because of me, Derek," Amroth interjected before Alex could reply. "I used to work for the same Agency but fifteen years ago I faked my death and disappeared. Then two years ago, I came here and someone took our photographs and sent them to the Agency. I had been Alex’s mentor and friend and everyone in the Agency knew that so when it was learned that I was alive, they sent him here to find out why."

Derek looked between Amroth and Alex and when Alex nodded, he sighed. "Why do I get the feeling I’ve just landed in the middle of a John Le Carré spy novel?"

Everyone grinned at that. "It does seem like it, doesn’t it?" Glorfindel said. "The point is, someone alerted Alex’s Agency about us. If those photos hadn’t been sent, no one would even know about us."

"And who sent the photos?" Derek asked.

"We don’t know," Daeron replied, "but the more I think about it, the more I believe that Alex was meant to see that photo of Amroth. It was the lure to bring him here."

"You mean the Valar, don’t you?" Glorfindel demanded, looking grim, and Daeron nodded.

"The Valar?" Amroth exclaimed. "Do you seriously think they had a hand in it?"

"It would explain many things," Daeron said. "They wanted Alex here and given what we’ve learned of his heritage, it makes sense."

"Well not to me," Derek said, reaching for the coffee pot to pour himself another cup. "What exactly were you sent to do, other than make an ass of yourself the way you carried on when you first arrived?"

Alex had the grace to blush while the Elves looked on with varying degrees of amusement. "I like this guy," Elrohir said to Glorfindel. "He doesn’t pull any punches."

"My mission was to determine what Amroth, whom I knew as Ambrose Elwood, was doing here when he should have been dead and if necessary take him out."

"And by ‘take him out’ you don’t mean treat him to Colonel Sanders’ Kentucky Fried Chicken, do you?"

Alex could only shake his head while the Elves all grinned. Derek took a sip of his coffee, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "I see. And tonight? You still haven’t explained what tonight was all about."

"I’m the agent in the field," Alex explained. "Under normal conditions, I have complete autonomy. My controllers keep a very long leash on me, allowing me to do my job, as I specialize in infiltrating terrorist cells of the homegrown variety. When I’m under deep cover, I stay there until I’m ready to surface and make a bust. For some reason that I haven’t figured out yet, Mark Farrell and eight other agents were sent, ostensibly to act as my backup, something I’ve never had before."

"Farrell. That’s the guy who was hanging around taking notes," Derek said.

"Yes, he was using the accreditation committee as a cover," Alex replied. "At any rate, Farrell contacted me against all protocol and pretty much told me he was taking over the case and ordered me to take Amroth out before Thanksgiving or there would be dire consequences. I think tonight was meant to be a warning. Whether Farrell expected his hired hands to actually succeed in kidnapping you to force my hand or if they were meant to fail, who can say? All I do know is that Farrell is playing outside the rules."

"You mean by hiring Snyder and Ersck," Glorfindel said. "And that brings us back to what we learned from them, which, admittedly, isn’t much."

"Just how did you get them to talk?" Alex asked. "You all looked like death warmed over when you came out of the interrogation."

"We have certain powers of the mind that I’m not about to explain to you right now," Glorfindel replied, "which allow us to read surface thoughts. Ask the right questions and even if the person speaks falsely, his thoughts betray him. Also, we... um... had a little help from above, if you catch my drift."

Alex raised an eyebrow at the implications of that statement. "By that, you mean a certain Maia named Fionwë?"

Glorfindel nodded and gave them a grim smile. "Fionwë can be very persuasive when he puts his mind to it."

"The sword helped," Elladan said somewhat laconically, giving them a diffident smile.

Derek’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline as those who’d been in on the interrogation chuckled.

"So what did you learn?" Alex insisted. "How did Farrell even find them?"

"As to that, we don’t know," Glorfindel answered. "They could only tell us that Farrell approached them separately, saying he had a job for them. He gave them all the necessary equipment to effect a night raid, told them where to cut the wires so the alarms wouldn’t sound when they opened the emergency door and how to find your room. They were to bring Derek with them, leaving you behind."

"And where were they supposed to take me?" Derek asked.

"Apparently they were to head for Chandalar, to a particular street where Farrell was to meet them for the transfer. We’re assuming the other three agents would be with him to help. Beyond that, we don’t know."

"Wait! What three agents? Didn’t you say something about there being eight?" Derek turned to Alex.

"We took out five of them," Alex said.

"Took out as in....?"

"No. They’re alive and well, if not entirely happy," Alex assured him. "I needed to level the playing field a bit and Glorfindel and the others helped to neutralize five of the agents, leaving Farrell and three others whom we haven’t identified. Farrell is being cagey, hiring local criminals to do his dirty work for him. He’s way out of bounds there. I doubt Maddy Washburn would approve."

"Maddy is many things," Amroth said with a nod, "and she’s not above cutting corners to get a job done, but there are certain lines that are never crossed and she knows that. No, I suspect our Mr. Farrell has crossed a line and if Maddy ever finds out, she will make his life a living hell."

"That’s assuming she ever learns of this," Alex said with a grimace. He turned to Glorfindel. "Can you call Graff and have him place Snyder and Ersck under guard at all times? They’re loose ends, as far as Farrell is concerned, and he can’t afford that."

"You think he’ll try to silence them permanently?" Glorfindel asked.

"If I were Farrell, I would," Alex replied with a nod.

Glorfindel took out his phone and dialed a number. They all sat in silence while he waited for Graff to pick up. When after a few seconds went by with no answer, he frowned as he shut down the phone. "Something’s wrong. I called the Sheriff’s office, not Graff, and there’s no answer. There should be someone on duty."

Alex rose from his seat. "I’m going over there. I’ll just grab my coat...."

"No," Glorfindel said firmly. "You let us handle it. We can get there much faster than you. Dan, Roy, Conan, Barry, you’re with me. Amroth, you, Daeron and Gil keep an eye on the Academy. I don’t want to leave this place unguarded. Sarah and Alfa, I want you to return to Edhellond and let Ron know what’s happening."

"And what about us?" Alex demanded. "Farrell is my problem, not yours."

"Farrell is all our problem and we can handle things without having Mortals mucking things up," Glorfindel retorted.

"Mucking things up?" Alex shouted angrily. "Is that how you see us? I thought the whole purpose behind all this was to form a partnership, to work together, to fight together, and now you’re dismissing us as if we’re errant children caught out of bed after hours?"

"I don’t have time for this," Glorfindel said, rising from his seat. "You all have your orders. Alex, Derek, help Amroth and Daeron to hold down the fort. We’ll be back as soon as we can. Let’s go."

With that he strode out and the others followed him, save for Amroth, Daeron and Gil. Derek sat there quietly but Alex was incensed. "Bloody son of a... where does he get off?"

"Calm down, son," Amroth said. "It’s time you realized that as soon as you joined forces with us, you came under Glorfindel’s command. He’s our leader and you’d best get used to that idea. Now, I suggest you go out to your car and bring in some of those weapons you’ve got stashed away. We may need them. Derek, are you weapons trained?"

Derek merely nodded and Amroth smiled. "Good. Off you go, the both of you and meet us in the foyer in ten minutes while Gil and I make sure the emergency doors are secured."

It was a dismissal and they knew it. Reluctantly, at least on Alex’s part, they left to do the Elf’s bidding.

41: A Funeral and a Fight

The Elves ran swiftly through the campus and into town, none of them speaking, all of them worried. Glorfindel led with Elrohir and Elladan automatically flanking him while Barahir and Cennanion brought up the rear. This early in the morning, with the sky just beginning to lighten with the coming dawn, the streets of Wiseman were mostly empty, but even before they reached the sheriff’s station, they could see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles and hear the sound of sirens in the distance. They quickened their pace, their expressions grim.

They turned the corner of Aurora onto Orion to find most of the street cordoned off with police, paramedics and firefighters scurrying about. One young police officer attempted to stop them, but one look at Glorfindel’s expression caused the Man to back away. Glorfindel didn’t even acknowledge him, concentrating on finding whoever might be in charge to get some answers. As he wove his way around emergency vehicles and personnel, he spied the very person he was looking for and made his way to him with the others trailing behind.

"David!"

Dave Michaelson, chief of police for Wiseman, whose family had been Glorfindel’s test family two years before when he’d been a student at Elf Academy, turned at the sound of his name and smiled grimly as Glorfindel approached. "Why am I not surprised to see you?" he said rhetorically.

Glorfindel ignored the question. "I tried to call the sheriff’s station a little while ago and there was no answer. What’s happened here?"

"I’m not even going to ask why you had the need to call the station in the middle of the night," Michaelson said, "but to answer your question, we’re still trying to figure it out. All I know for sure is that when the morning shift came on duty they discovered everyone in the station out cold. Tom Waterhouse," — naming the county medical examiner — "says they were all victims of some kind of incapacitating gas, maybe something similar to that Agent 15 the Iraqis used, or at least that’s what he says. Guess he would know, having been over there. Anyway, they’re being transported to St. Luke’s."

"Graff was bringing in two prisoners who broke into the Academy," Glorfindel said.

Michaelson raised an eyebrow. "I think you and I need to talk."

"Later, Dave," Glorfindel said, waving a hand in dismissal. "My concern right now is for Carl and the others, especially Robert Snyder and Burrill Ersck. I need to know what happened to them."

"Snyder and Ersck?! What the... no, I think we’ll take this somewhere else." He turned and shouted at someone. "Conrad, did anyone check the cells? There should be at least two prisoners."

"Station was empty of prisoners, Chief," Officer Conrad replied. "We did find two cell doors wide open. You thinking this was a prison break? We’ll put out an APB as soon as we learn the identity of the fugitives."

"Don’t bother," Glorfindel said before Michaelson could respond, "If what I think happened has happened, Ersck and Snyder are already dead."

"Okay, I want to know what the hell is going on," Michaelson demanded. "What were Burrill and Bobby doing at the Academy in the first place? Bobby we know is responsible for those break-ins over the summer though we could never prove it and his daddy’s lawyer was able to get him off on a technicality, but Burrill’s into armed robbery and we’ve been looking for him for some time now. So how does a two-penny thief end up teaming up with the likes of Burrill Ersck?"

"It’s a long story, Dave," Glorfindel said. "All I will tell you is that those two men broke into the Academy with the intention of kidnapping one of my students for blackmail purposes. Luckily, Dan and Roy were on duty and foiled the attempt. Darren called in Graff when we learned of it and Graff came out to pick them up. I was concerned that perhaps Ersck and Snyder might be in danger from whoever sent them to do the job, fearing that they would reveal the identity of the person who hired them, so I called the station and when I got no answer, came directly here."

Michaelson gave him a considering look. "You’re not telling me everything, but I’ve known you long enough to know that, short of beating it out of you, you won’t enlighten me any more than you have."

Glorfindel gave him a grim smile. "And you would be correct, my friend. Suffice it to say that there are things going on that don’t concern you and it’s better that you don’t know."

"The safety of Wiseman concerns me," Michaelson said, giving him a dark look, "and if you are holding back any information that compromises that, Elf-lord or no Elf-lord, I’ll haul you into jail on obstruction-of-justice charges so fast it’ll make your head spin. And that goes for any of your merry band. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, we do," Glorfindel replied shortly.

"All right. Now unless you have any additional information to impart, I suggest you get yourselves out of here and let me do my job. I’ll have an APB put out for Snyder and Ersck in the meantime, but if what you say is true, it’s an exercise in futility. However, until their bodies show up, if they ever do, we’ll play it by the book."

"What about Carl? Do you know what his condition is?" Glorfindel asked.

"He’s fine and so are the others. Most of them were coming out of their state, very groggy and incoherent, when we got here. They’ve been taken to St. Luke’s for observation. I suspect they’ll be released sometime today if they haven’t suffered any complications from the gas."

"I’ll stop by the hospital later and check on them, then," Glorfindel said. He nodded to the other Elves and they started to move away.

"One thing," Michaelson called out and the Elves stopped and turned to face him. "Who were they trying to kidnap, do you know?"

"We found Jack Whitman lying unconscious in the hall outside his room when we apprehended the intruders," Elrohir answered before Glorfindel could respond.

"The Mayor’s son?" Michaelson asked in disbelief.

Elrohir merely shrugged in assent.

"Does Whitman know?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "No and I’ve convinced young Jack not to say anything to his father about it. He was not seriously injured. We’ll keep a close watch on him, make sure he doesn’t suffer any aftereffects, but we would like to keep this as quiet as possible for all our sakes."

"Fine. I’ll play along," Michaelson said with a scowl, clearly unhappy about it. "Now you’ve wasted enough of my time. Off with you." He waved at them, then turned to speak with one of his officers, effectively dismissing them. The Elves exchanged grimly amused smiles with one another as they walked away. When they reached the corner, they stopped by mutual consent.

"Well, we didn’t exactly lie, did we?" Barahir commented.

"No, we did not. That we haven’t told the entire truth...." Glorfindel shrugged. "I’m going back to the inn to get some sleep. We’ll plan to hold classes in spite of this as we can’t afford to waste anymore time."

"I’ll return to the Academy," Barahir said, "as I have to prepare for my class anyway. I’ll let Daeron know."

"We need to get those wires fixed," Cennanion commented.

"Daeron’s probably already contacted the utility company," Elladan said. "I’m sure they’ll be sending someone out as soon as they can."

Glorfindel nodded. "Call me if you need me, but I sincerely hope you don’t. Tell Daeron I’ll be in around three."

The other four ellyn nodded. Barahir and Cennanion headed back to the Academy while the Twins indicated they were returning to Edhellond. Glorfindel watched them for a moment before turning away, heading for the town center and the Goldmine Inn.

****

When the cafeteria staff began showing up, Daeron dismissed Alex and Derek from patrol duty, suggesting that they try to get a couple of hours of sleep before the cafeteria opened. Alex took the weapons he and Derek had been toting and returned them to their hiding place in his car before going to his room where he found Derek already in bed, though he was still dressed and was sleeping on top of the covers. Alex wasted no time in removing his shoes and doing the same, willing himself to sleep.

He woke about an hour and a half later, feeling unrefreshed but decided it wasn’t worth trying to get anymore sleep, so he got up and went to shave and take a shower. Coming back, he ran into Jack Whitman and his roommate George heading for the bathroom.

"How are you doing?" he asked Jack. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Still feeling a little woozy. Loren said to take it easy today. I’ll see how I feel after breakfast. I’d like to at least attend the morning classes but I think I’ll skip archery."

"That sounds like a good idea," Alex said.

"Do you know what that was all about?" George asked.

Alex shook his head. "Not a clue. I’ll see you guys later." With that, he returned to his room to dress, finding Derek just waking up. "I met Jack and George. I told them I didn’t know what last night was all about. I suggest you play dumb as well."

"No need to remind me. Mrs. Lowell’s little boy is a past champion in dumb-playing."

Alex grinned as he ran a brush through his hair. "I’ll see you at breakfast," he said, leaving Derek to fend for himself.

****

When Alex arrived at the cafeteria, he found a sign posted on the lounge door informing everyone that the weight of the ice had broken some of the wires and that was why they were running electricity on the generators. The sign went on to explain that a utility crew would be coming out sometime during the day to repair the wires and asked for everyone’s patience and understanding. Alex smiled faintly at the plausibility of the statement, giving the Elves points for quick thinking.

Derek joined him at the table about ten minutes later, giving him a significant look. "So that’s why we’re back on generator power, huh?" he said for the benefit of the others at the table. "Sure hope they can fix it soon."

"I’m sure they’re working as quickly as they can," Alex said and then someone asked them if they knew anything about the ruckus during the night and both men shook their heads and the matter was dropped.

When Alex and Derek entered Gilvegil’s Sindarin class, they stopped at his desk to ask if he knew anything.

"From what Barry and Conan told me," the Elf said quietly, "someone gassed the sheriff’s station, knocking everyone out cold, and then removed the two men who were here earlier."

Alex grimaced. "Farrell’s covering his tracks."

"Is that something you people do all the time?" Derek asked.

Alex shook his head. "No. Farrell is working outside accepted parameters, attacking a sheriff’s station like that. One of the primary rules of the Game is that you don’t involve civilians if you can possibly help it and you especially don’t let the local authorities know what you’re about." He gave them a wry look. "They have a nasty habit of sticking their noses in where it doesn’t belong and then someone higher up has to lay down the law to them and that just gets their backs up even more. We try not to do anything to antagonize the local authorities. Makes for bad PR."

Derek snorted at that and Gilvegil smiled. "Why don’t you take your seats and we can begin?"

The two men nodded and a few minutes later the class started and for a time the only thing on their minds was conjugating intransitive verbs.

****

As promised, a utility crew was out to the Academy by ten and when Alex and Derek returned from their archery class they found that full power had been restored. Morale at dinner was high among the students, many of them exclaiming over the flood of emails they had received from their families wondering how they had survived the storm. Alex grinned at some of the exasperated looks on people’s faces.

"Lordy, you’d think I’d been lost in the Antarctic or something the way my mom carried on," Lucy Barton was heard to say. "It was just a storm. It’s not like we don’t have them in Wisconsin, for Pete’s sake."

"We get our share in New Hampshire," Alex commented. "I grew up in a small town outside Portsmouth. I remember that Perfect Storm we had in '91. One of the hotels that line the coast going up to Maine was just swept away. Luckily, they’d evacuated everyone from it beforehand."

There were nods all around and then others began sharing some of their ‘storm’ stories as they lingered over coffee and dessert, enjoying each other’s company. Later, Alex and Derek hunted up Daeron, who was in his office with Vorondur, Amroth and Glorfindel, the four of them coordinating the night patrol, for Glorfindel had decided to have the Elves continue keeping watch through the night.

"Farrell is still out there and so are those other agents," he said to the two Mortals. "I don’t trust him not to try something stupid again."

"I agree," Alex said, "but I think he will not bother us for a while. I sent an email to Maddy telling her what went down without mentioning names. I told her that Farrell hired two criminals to kidnap one of the students with the intention of forcing my hand, thereby endangering the mission and my cover. I told her to either recall Farrell or I would take him out myself. We’ll have to see what she does. This whole thing is going south fast and I don’t like it."

"We’ll continue patrolling for the rest of the week just to be sure," Glorfindel said. "Derek, perhaps this weekend, you and Alex can come out to Edhellond and we will explain everything to you then."

"I guess I can keep my raging curiosity in check until then," Derek said and the Elves chuckled as the two Men said goodnight and left.

****

All the Elves attended Richard Martina’s wake on Tuesday, meeting with his son and daughter and their families, expressing their condolences. Only Glorfindel and Daeron, representing the Academy, attended the funeral mass Wednesday morning at St. Mary of the Snows Church. Some of the people there, recognizing them, looked upon them with a mixture of surprise and suspicion, knowing that the Elves did not adhere to their beliefs. Neither Glorfindel nor Daeron paid any attention to them but when the mass ended, a small group stopped them just as they were leaving the sanctuary. Glorfindel recognized one or two as members of other denominations where their pastors preached against the ‘godless Elves’.

"You have a lot of nerve stepping into a house of worship," one Man snarled. "Have you no respect?"

"Richard Martina was a friend of ours," Glorfindel said softly, reining in his temper. "We came to say good-bye."

"You’re not even a Christian," the Man retorted.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "And neither is Rabbi Cohen, who I see has also attended. Walking into a church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than walking into a garage makes you a car." The expressions of shock on the Mortals’ faces was almost amusing. "Child, I watched them build Notre Dame in Paris and attended the dedication mass. I remember the early Christian missionaries spreading their news about the Christ from one end of the Roman Empire to the other. I’ve been in and out of a variety of houses of worship over the millennia and so far lightning hasn’t struck me dead yet."

"And don’t forget the time we attended that pope’s crowning at the Vatican," Daeron said with a bland expression. "What was his name, that despicable Borgia and his disgusting children?"

Glorfindel cast him an amused smile, then returned his attention to the gaping Mortals. "And now, if you will excuse us, we have to return to work, as I’m sure some of you have to as well."

He pushed past them, secretly pleased at the nonplused expressions on their faces, wishing he could skewer them all with a sword for their narrow-minded and hateful attitudes towards anything that threatened their petty views of the universe. Daeron gave him a knowing look. "They are not important," he said. "Forget about them. The majority of the people here accept us and welcome us. You can’t expect all Mortals to do so. It’s not realistic."

"I know, but sometimes.... Well, you’re right. They are not worthy of my attention. I guess I’m still feeling out of it, as the Mortals like to say."

"And I understand, more than you can appreciate," Daeron said, then gave him a shrewd look. "When was the last time you beat someone up?"

"What?" Glorfindel responded with a laugh, stopping in surprise at the top of the steps leading out onto the parking lot. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, when was the last time you indulged yourself in a good sword fight? You always feel better after you’ve beaten someone to a pulp."

Glorfindel scowled at him. "I do not."

"Oh, yes you do," Daeron retorted with a laugh. "So, my suggestion is that we go get your sword and those of the Twins and bring them to the gym and let you three have it out. Maybe the others will want to join in on the fun. We can bring their swords as well. I’m sure they would all like the workout and you can entertain the students at the same time."

"What do you mean? Classes were cancelled today. There are no phys. ed. classes going on."

"A number of the students asked if those classes could be held. Many of them are still feeling antsy from the enforced inactivity during the storm and expressed a need to be doing something active, so I agreed to let those classes run."

"Fine. Let’s go," Glorfindel said, ignoring Daeron’s look of satisfaction as they headed for the car.

****

Alex was in the middle of a fencing match between himself and Jack Whitman while the rest of the class looked on when they were interrupted by Daeron coming into the gym.

"Please put away your equipment and then we’re going to open this gym to the other one. There will be an exhibition of sword fighting put on by some of your teachers and administrators."

There was a general sense of excitement as the students complied with Daeron’s directive while he and Phil Gordon set about retracting the inner wall so that the two gyms became one. Alex was surprised to see Glorfindel and the Twins, along with Vorondur, Barahir and Gilvegil standing in the middle of the floor with actual swords in their hands while the mats that had been used for the self-defense classes were being removed by Cennanion, Amroth, Serindë and Alphwen. Even without a close-up look at the swords he could tell that they were both very beautiful and deadly. These were definitely not just for show. Some of the fold-away bleachers had been pulled out and he joined the other students, finding a spot next to Derek and their friends. For safety’s sake, no one was allowed to sit in the first three rows. When everyone was settled, Glorfindel addressed them all.

"What we are about to show you is not choreographed. We will be sparring with live steel, as you can see, so please, do not try this at home." He gave them a wry smile.

There was a wave of laughter at that and then Glorfindel continued. "Ryan and Conan will act as referees." With that, he and the other five fighters donned knit caps and Alex knew that was to make sure their hair stayed in place and their pointed ears were not revealed. He suddenly realized that Amroth had done something similar whenever he had sparred during Alex’s training. It was an interesting revelation and he wondered what else Amroth had done to disguise the fact that he wasn’t human.

"Damn! I think it’s going to be five-on-one," Derek muttered in shock and Alex saw that his roommate was correct. Glorfindel stood in the middle of a circle made by the other five. Amroth and Cennanion were standing well away from them, yet close enough to act as referees. No one spoke. None of the fighters bowed or otherwise saluted each other. Glorfindel didn’t even move, but remained perfectly still, his sword pointing down in what appeared to be a relaxed pose, while the other five slowly circled him. Then, it seemed as if all five started to attack as one and there was a collective gasp from the spectators. Alex watched in disbelief as Glorfindel brought his sword up in a single sweep that blocked the attack from Elrohir and Barahir and then managed to avoid the sweep of Vorondur’s sword while parrying Elladan’s thrust from behind and then drive Gilvegil back, all in a single fluid movement.

And after that, the show truly began.

Alex could never afterwards say how long the fighting lasted. He watched, mesmerized, as Glorfindel managed, somehow, to avoid all the attackers, to parry and thrust, leaping up and spinning about, but what struck him the most was the absolute blankness of the Elf’s expression. There was no anger or gladness. He was entirely focused on the fighting and it was obvious that nothing else mattered. The others were equally as deadly in their maneuvering but Alex could tell that as good as they all were, Glorfindel was a shade better, his movements that much more economical and spare, wasting no energy or effort.

It was not choreographed, but it was precise and Alex sat in awe at the display.

At one point, Glorfindel managed to get inside Elladan’s guard enough to nick him in the right shoulder. Blood spurted, causing some of the spectators to yell in shock, but none of the Elves stopped. Elladan continued fighting, casually shifting his sword to his other hand as he maneuvered out of Glorfindel’s reach. Glorfindel, Alex noticed, was smiling, showing the first hint of emotion since beginning the fighting, and there was a deadliness to that smile that sent shivers down Alex’s spine. A moment later, Gilvegil became the first real victim as Glorfindel casually parried a stroke from Vorondur while kicking out at Gilvegil, sending him reeling into Amroth’s arms. All the students gasped as one.

However, Gilvegil did not re-enter the fight, for, after taking a moment to catch his breath, he moved away from the other fighters to where Daeron stood with the two ellith and sheathed his sword in the scabbard that the loremaster handed him. From where he was sitting, Alex could not tell if the Elf was angry or upset, for he stood there quietly talking with Daeron, and Alex had the impression that they were commenting on the other fighters.

In the meantime, Elrohir and Elladan were now fighting almost in tandem, switching their positions back and forth in an attempt to keep Glorfindel occupied while Vorondur and Barahir tried to get to him from behind, but Glorfindel evened the odds a bit more when he managed to duck at the very last second so that the swords of the other four clashed against each other. Even as they strove to regain their balance, Glorfindel lunged at Elrohir, knocking him to the ground, thereby opening up a space that allowed him to break out of the circle. The other three Elves ignored Elrohir who remained on the floor until everyone had moved away from his position. Cennanion came over and gave the Elf a hand up, smiling at him. Alex saw Elrohir say something and the two laughed as Elrohir joined Gilvegil and Daeron on the sideline, putting an arm around Serindë. She said something to him and Alex guessed from the worried look on her face that she was concerned that he’d been injured, but Elrohir shook his head, giving her a kiss. She smiled at him and kissed him back and Alex turned his attention back to the fight.

Until then, the fighting had remained more or less stationary within the center of the floor, but once Glorfindel broke free of the circle, it became a real free-for-all with Glorfindel leading the others on a merry chase around the gym, so that now they were fighting more one-on-one, with the other three taking turns attacking Glorfindel. The swords flashed fast and furious and yet it was nothing like what you would see in the movies and it certainly was nothing like fencing. Alex wondered just how long they could keep up the pace, for it had to be tiring even for them, yet the minutes went by and if any of the Elves were slowing down he could not tell.

Barahir became the next person to be out of the fight when Glorfindel managed to slip under the other Elf’s guard to slash him in the thigh. There were gasps and moans of dismay from most of the Mortals at the sight of the blood puddling on the floor. Alex felt his heart leap to his throat and Derek was heard to be quietly swearing, yet none of the Elves, not even Barahir, appeared overly concerned. The injured Elf limped away from the fight. Serindë and Alphwen ran to him and helped him to the bleachers while Elrohir grabbed the first aid kit and began administering to him. From where Alex was sitting it appeared that the cut was not deep and had not severed any arteries. He glanced at Derek, giving him a grim look.

"They play for keeps, don’t they?" he said and Derek nodded but said nothing.

Now with it two against one, the pace of the fighting actually seemed to quicken and it was almost impossible to keep track of the swords but it all came to an end after another ten minutes or so when Glorfindel managed to knock Elladan’s sword out of his hand and then landed a flurry of strokes on Vorondur, forcing the ellon to retreat until he was against the wall. As soon as Vorondur’s back touched the wall, Glorfindel stepped back and lowered his sword and Vorondur did the same. For a moment they just stood there facing each other, both of them breathing heavily, and then Glorfindel stepped forward and gave the other Elf a hug which Vorondur returned. At that, the spectators began cheering and clapping, moving down to the floor to surround the fighters, offering comments and asking questions, several of the men asking shyly if they could see the Elves’ swords. Alex noticed Alphwen fussing over Elladan, insisting that she clean the cut on his shoulder. To Alex’s amusement, Elladan rolled his eyes but let the ellith have her way.

Glorfindel and Vorondur made their way back to where everyone was congregated. Alex, who was standing on the perimeter of the group surrounding the other fighters, not even attempting to get near them, watched as Daeron approached the two ellyn, handing them their scabbards.

"Feeling better?" he overheard Daeron ask Glorfindel.

Glorfindel nodded as he sheathed his sword. "Yes, much. Thank you."

****

Note: The incapacitating gas (also called knockout gas) known as Agent 15 actually exists and was used by the Iraqis. It is considered to be similar to the incapacitating gas designated BZ by NATO.

42: Conversations with the Elves

By the end of the week all those who’d been sent to the clinic were released and returned to the Academy, so morale was even higher than before and the kitchen staff put on a special dinner on Friday to celebrate everyone surviving the ‘storm plague’, as someone put it. The movie that night was an old John Wayne movie, Donovan’s Reef, an action/comedy set in French Polynesia.

"And not a snowball in sight, thank God," someone was heard to mutter and there were noises of assent to that as they sat back to enjoy John Wayne and Lee Marvin having their traditional knock-down, drag-out birthday fight.

The Elves, however, continued patrolling the Academy during the night that week but nothing happened to disturb them. Classes were intensified somewhat to make up for lost time, so the students had little time for other pursuits than studying. Alex spent a little time telling Derek something of what he had learned about the Elves during his stay at Edhellond, as well as what the Agency knew about them. He showed him the background information he’d been given along with the photos and the two of them pored over them to see if there was anything in them that might prove detrimental to the Elves.

"These photos are amazing," Derek exclaimed as he looked over them, using Alex’s magnifying glass to get a closer look, "but since most people don’t believe in Elves or that there are immortal beings living among us, I don’t think they’ll make the connection. Certainly whoever put this together didn’t. It’s a poor example of analysis. I could’ve done better."

Alex grinned at his friend’s affronted expression. "Probably just as well that whoever did put this information together didn’t look too closely at it," he said as he stowed the photos back in the manila envelope. "Besides, I’m known for preferring to do my own analysis of the raw data that is collected. Used to drive the info-nerds crazy. ‘Let us do our job’ they would say. ‘It’s why they pay us the big bucks’."

Derek laughed. "I hear you. But, given the information you have here and if you didn’t know what you know now, could you have made any sense of it?"

"No," Alex admitted, shaking his head. "It made no sense whatsoever. These people existed but didn’t exist. Glorfindel told me he and the Twins, along with Darren, Della and Misty, have been in America since the mid-sixteenth century. They spent the first couple centuries exploring the land, living with the various Indian tribes. They only returned to so-called civilization around the time of the French and Indian Wars and settled in Boston and then later in Baltimore. They were there when the Civil War broke out and returned to Europe for a time. They’ve been back and forth ever since, but they’ve been living here in the States more or less permanently since the fifties."

Derek shook his head. "It’s hard to get one’s mind around that," he commented.

"Tell me about it. When I think of the history they’ve seen, or rather, lived, the people they’ve known who are just names and dates to us... it just boggles the mind."

"And it boggles the mind even more to think that when you and I are long gone to dust, they’ll still be here, in Wiseman or elsewhere." Derek shook his head. "I used to think being able to live forever would be a good thing, but looking at these people, knowing what they’ve had to endure, I’m not so sure anymore."

Alex nodded in agreement. "When Della went on about the Gift of Men, I pretty much sneered at that idea, but now... I look in their eyes and the depth of pain and sorrow is such, I wonder how anyone can bear it."

"And yet they do, and that’s the amazing thing about it all," Derek said. "I’m glad I’m just a lowly human, but I wouldn’t mind living long enough to learn to fight the way they did the other day. Some of those moves...."

Alex grinned. "Ryan was my self-defense instructor at the Agency. Now I know why I could never beat him."

Derek chuckled. "Do you think he can sword fight like that?"

"I have no idea," Alex replied with a shrug, "but I wouldn’t put it past him."

The scheduled camping trips were cancelled until further notice, much to the relief of many. Those who would’ve gone that weekend expressed gratitude that they would not be subjected to harsh winter conditions so soon after their ordeal. So, the weekend was spent by most in catching up with their studies, for the teachers had piled on the assignments. No one really minded and the halls on Saturday were quiet as people stayed in their rooms, only emerging for sustenance or to take a short break before plunging back into their books.

Daeron had sent a note to Alex and Derek during lunch, inviting them to join the Elves for dinner that evening. ‘Come around four and you can help with dinner’ the note ended and so around three-thirty, they closed their books and got themselves ready to go, taking Alex’s car. They were greeted at the door by Daeron, who gave them a brilliant smile.

"Right on time," he said as he ushered them inside and handed them hangers for their coats. "We’re all in the kitchen." The two Mortals followed the loremaster into the kitchen where they were greeted by the others. "Good, you’re here," Glorfindel said. "Alex, you want to help Amroth with cutting the potatoes again and Derek, why don’t you help chop the vegetables for the salad?"

The two Mortals complied with the request and soon they were happily engaged in their tasks. Alex gave Amroth an amused smile. "So why do you always end up peeling the potatoes, Cinderella?"

Amroth gave him an arch look while everyone else snickered. "Because we don’t trust him with sharp pointy things," Elrohir answered, giving the former king of Laurinand a wicked grin. "Not after the time he and Glorfindel were having an argument while Amroth was carving the turkey."

Alex watched in amusement as Amroth actually blushed while everyone else laughed out loud. There was nothing malicious about the laughter; it was obvious that this was an inside joke among them. Nimrodel came over and wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and gave him a kiss on the top of his head before returning to her own task.

"So is that why you didn’t spar the other day?" Derek asked and there was genuine curiosity in his expression.

Amroth shook his head. "No. We take turns having the pleasure of getting beaten up by Glorfindel."

"Oh?" Alex said as he reached for another potato. "So, how do you choose?"

"We play paper, rock, scissors to see who gets to fight," Barahir said with a grin, "and the number of fighters depends on Glorfindel’s mood. Wednesday he was in a very bad mood, so he set the number to five, which is about as high as you’ve ever gone, isn’t it?" he asked Glorfindel, who nodded. "Anyway, the next time, Amroth and Cennanion will automatically be chosen to fight since they sat out this time," Barahir went on to explain.

Alex gave Glorfindel a puzzled look. "Do you normally fight against such odds?"

"I was trained by the Maiar," Glorfindel said with a shrug. "I’ve gone against them in sparring, and while I’ve never fought at their level, they still gave me a workout. Having five Elves fighting me at the same time is about how it is fighting with a single Maia."

Both Mortals raised eyebrows in surprise. Then Derek frowned even as he was transferring chopped up green peppers into the salad bowl. "Those hikers at the tarn... you said they were Maiar."

Glorfindel nodded. "Yes. Of course, they were in disguise, probably looking very human, though usually when they appear to any of us, they look more elven. Being pure spirits, they can assume any shape they want."

"So, really, you might never know if you were conversing with a Maia or not, would you?" Derek asked.

"I have known one who was particularly called upon by the Elder King to walk among our people, giving us fair visions and promptings of wisdom that we might awake from despair and put away the imaginations of darkness," Glorfindel said soberly. "I do not know if any have done so among Mortals, though I suspect they have. There are too many accounts of encounters with angels to be discredited and the author of the Letter to the Hebrews in your Bible mentions entertaining angels unawares."

Both Mortals nodded. Then, Amroth changed the subject. "There’s been no trace of those two unfortunates who tried to kidnap you. Have you heard from Farrell?"

"Unfortunates?" Derek repeated with a snort of contempt. "They were criminals and if Farrell didn’t off them, someone would’ve eventually."

Amroth gave him a stern look. "They were Children of Eru, no less than you, son, and for that reason alone, worthy of our respect and regret for their lives ending. Life is too precious a gift to deny it to another."

Derek had the grace to blush but did not offer a comment. Alex spoke instead. "And if Farrell did have them eliminated, he’s truly stepped out of bounds. He may have a license to kill, but there are limits to that. Enemy agents, terrorists and the like, those are fair game, but not garden-variety criminals. We leave those to the local authorities. If Ersck and Snyder are dead at Farrell’s hands, then Farrell is guilty of pre-meditated murder and I don’t think even the Agency will protect him if the police find him."

"What will you do if he contacts you?" Glorfindel asked.

"That depends. I told Maddy to recall him and his goons or I would take him out myself."

"You mean, kill him?" Derek asked, looking somewhat upset. "Wouldn’t you be guilty of murder then as well?"

Alex shook his head. "Not in the legal sense. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to take out an agent who’s been declared rogue, though I sincerely hope it doesn’t come to that. I would just prefer to have the Agency deal with it, but if I have to, I will." He put down the paring knife and the potato he’d been slicing and raised his hands, palms out. "These hands are stained with blood, Derek, and I will never be able to wash them clean enough."

"I was in the Navy for six years but I never saw any real action," Derek said quietly, now looking more embarrassed than anything, as if not having spilled blood was somehow a failing on his part. "I might as well have been sitting in an office in downtown Burbank for all the action I didn’t see."

"Be grateful, child," Amroth said sincerely. "War is an ugly business, but espionage is even uglier. The fifty-odd years I was forced to engage in it, to teach others like Alex how to play the Game, to have to stand by and watch souls being destroyed by it... they were some of the darkest days of my long life, and that is saying a lot."

"But those days are over," Nimrodel said as she checked the pork roast, squirting drippings over it and checking the thermometer.

"So I thought," Amroth said with a sigh, giving Alex a glance.

"Well, I think we should put all that aside for now," Vorondur suggested, "and just enjoy this lovely dinner. We invited Alex and Derek so we could answer any of Derek’s questions concerning us. Why don’t we stick to that for now and worry about the rest later?"

Everyone nodded. Derek gave them a wry grin. "And now that you’ve given me permission to ask questions, my mind has gone mysteriously blank."

There were chuckles all around. "Why don’t we begin by properly introducing ourselves and then go on from there?" Glorfindel suggested.

Derek nodded and as they continued putting together the dinner, each Elf took a moment to introduce him- or herself to Derek, giving him a little background on who they were and where they’d come from originally. As they moved into the dining room to enjoy the meal, the Elves continued to regale the two Mortals about their lives and adventures, much to their delight, but at some point, Glorfindel asked them to speak about their own lives. Both Mortals demurred.

"Compared to your lives, my life is about as exciting as a pair of old socks with holes in them," Derek said.

"And much of mine cannot be told anyway," Alex added with a smile. "None of you except Amroth have that high a security clearance."

Glorfindel shook his head. "You need not disparage your lives. We would honestly like to know what it was like for you to grow up, the games you played, the subjects you learned in school, the dreams that you have. Your lives are so brief in comparison to ours, but you pack so much in that short amount of time. Please, tell us about yourselves."

"Besides, it’s only fair," Daeron pointed out, "seeing as how we’ve told you about our lives, or at least some of it."

Alex and Derek exchanged looks and Derek shrugged, turning back to the Elves. "Well, I grew up in Oakland," Derek began.

"What was your earliest memory?" Vorondur asked.

"Going to the amusement park with my mom and dad and getting cotton candy in my hair," Derek said with a grin. "Mom was really put out."

There were smiles all around. "How old were you?" Ercassë asked.

"Must’ve been about three or so," Derek said with a shrug. "I can still see myself standing in the dining room with my mom cutting the cotton candy out of my hair. I think it was a long time before she let me have anymore after that."

Now they were all laughing. "So what’s your earliest memory, Alex?" Elrohir asked.

"Hmm... it would have to be when I was maybe four? My mom took me to the zoo, don’t remember which one, and I was fascinated by the elephants and the Siberian tigers but cried at the monkeys. Don’t ask me why, but they scared me for some reason."

"Those flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz gave me nightmares," Derek said.

"Me, too," Alex admitted. "I’ve never liked monkeys after that."

There were knowing smiles among the Elves and then Serindë asked them about their school days and the conversation continued along those lines for some time. By the time Alex and Derek were ready to return to the Academy, they were both feeling relaxed and left in a good mood.

****

Sunday morning, as the Elves were finishing breakfast, they received a visitor. Gilvegil answered the doorbell to find Dave Michaelson standing there.

"David," the Elf said in greeting. "You look very cold. Come in and have some coffee. We’re all in the kitchen."

"This isn’t a social call, Gil," Michaelson said as he stamped the snow off his boots. "I’ve come to see Loren."

Gilvegil nodded. "Well, take off your coat and come have some coffee. Glorfindel won’t speak with you until you’re looking less frozen."

Michaelson snorted in agreement at that and did as the Elf bid and soon they were making their way into the kitchen where Michaelson found most of the Elves busy with cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Glorfindel was elbow deep in suds, washing a skillet. He turned his head to see Gilvegil enter with the Mortal.

"Good morning, Dave. What brings you out here on a Sunday?"

"Business," Michaelson said shortly. "You and I need to talk."

Glorfindel nodded. "Well, as you can see, we’re in the middle of things here. Grab some coffee and sit and get warm while we finish up."

"Stalling?" Michaelson asked with a slight smile on his face.

Glorfindel smiled back. "If I were stalling, Dave, you’d know it. I would suddenly start speaking in Quenya and insisting we have a sing-a-long and then second breakfast, followed by a nice long nap."

Michaelson chuckled and the Elves grinned. "And you would, too, and somehow I would find myself going along, including taking the nap. All right. You finish up your chores like a good little elfling and I’ll just sit here with my coffee until you’re ready to talk. And if I have to sit here all day, I will."

The veiled threat of that last statement was not lost on any of them. Glorfindel merely nodded and returned to washing the skillet and a few other pots and pans while the others bustled about, cleaning up the kitchen. No one spoke nor did they engage the Mortal in conversation, effectively ignoring him as they went about their various tasks. Michaelson, long used to their ways, was not offended, merely sitting back and enjoying the Jamaican roast, savoring its smooth flavor.

Another ten minutes passed before Glorfindel turned his attention to the Mortal. "All right, Dave. I’m all yours. Would you like to retire to the library? It’ll be a bit more comfortable, not to mention more private."

"Fine by me," Michaelson said as he stood up, "and if Daeron would deign to join us, I would appreciate it."

Daeron’s only response to that was a raised eyebrow.

"I think I’ll join you as well, if you don’t mind," Amroth said. "This concerns me."

"Oh? How?" Michaelson demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"Why don’t we go to the library and we’ll answer your questions, Dave," Glorfindel suggested, "but please understand that we will not betray any confidences entrusted to us by others, so you may not get all the information you’re hoping for."

"With you people, that’s a foregone conclusion," Michaelson said with a scowl as he followed Glorfindel, Daeron and Amroth to the library. "I resent having to beg for information like this."

None of the Elves commented on that. Once they were settled before the fire, Glorfindel gave Michaelson a sympathetic smile. "Tell us what you know."

"What I know is zilch," Michaelson exclaimed with frustration tinged with anger. "I spoke with Carl Graff and he’s obviously been taking lessons from you because he was as tightlipped as they come, said it was not in my jurisdiction and to keep my nose out of it."

"I’m sorry," Glorfindel said. "Carl shouldn’t have said that. Look, Dave, all I can truly tell you is that someone hired Burrill Ersck and Robert Snyder to enter the Academy and kidnap one of the students."

"Young Jack Whitman," Michaelson said.

"That is only our conclusion. We don’t know for sure. All we do know is that the attempt was foiled because Dan and Roy were there, keeping an eye on things and Jack Whitman was found unconscious in the middle of the hall."

"Why were the Twins there in the first place? Did they suspect anything?"

"No. We were taking turns patrolling the Academy during the night in case any of the students felt a sudden need to talk. Many of them have never experienced the kind of storm we had last week and the conditions here were not good with the power out and everyone huddled in the cafeteria. We thought that for some students the trauma would be such that they might wake in the middle of the night upset. So the Twins were there to assure them that all was well, nothing more. Whoever sent those men obviously was unaware of that fact."

For a moment Michaelson said nothing, merely staring into the fire. "Ersck and Snyder’s bodies were discovered early this morning," he finally said, not looking at anyone.

"Where?" Glorfindel demanded softly.

"Big Lake. In spite of the storm we had, it’s not cold enough yet for the lake to freeze over completely, though there was some ice on it. Some fishermen went out this morning to find that some of the ice had been broken open close to the shore. They’d been at the lake the day before, scouting out where they wanted to fish and that section had been completely iced over, so when they found it all broken up they were suspicious enough to investigate and discovered the bodies. Whoever dumped the bodies there probably thought the ice would reform, but it’s warmed up enough so it didn’t, otherwise we might never have found them until spring, if then."

"Big Lake is outside your jurisdiction," Daeron said. "How did you get involved?"

"Only by accident," Michaelson replied. "One of the fishermen is a friend of mine. He called me. Since Bobby Snyder used to reside in Wiseman and his folks still do, I did have a legal right to identify the body, so I went out there, but you’re right. If the murders took place outside Wiseman, I have no jurisdiction over the matter. That’s Carl’s bailiwick. Yet, this college is inside my jurisdiction and what happens in it is my concern, which is why I’m here."

"And we’ve told you all that we know or can tell," Glorfindel said. "Believe me, I wish we could tell you more, but there are things going on of which even Carl is unaware and for your own safety, it’s best you don’t get involved anymore than you are."

"Does any of this have to do with that Dagor Dagorath you Elves keep harping about?" Michaelson asked.

"To some extent," Amroth answered. "A war is coming and there are going to be casualties on both sides of the conflict. Ersck and Snyder are merely the first. They won’t be the last."

Michaelson shook his head, his expression plainly one of frustration. "Some days I rejoice in the fact that there truly are Elves in the world, but this is not one of those days."

"I am sorry, Dave, truly," Glorfindel said with grave sincerity. "I appreciate how frustrating all this is but there is little I or anyone can do to relieve you of that frustration. Trust me when I say that there are indeed some things it is best you do not know, for your own sake and that of your family. Now that we are aware of a possible threat from outside forces, we can and have taken steps to ensure that those in our care remain safe."

"Just promise me one thing," Michaelson said.

"If I can," Glorfindel answered.

"Promise me that if you ever learn the identity of the person or persons who dumped Ersck and Snyder into the lake, that you will let me know. Ersck was slime but Bobby was just a kid and whatever his crimes he didn’t deserve that kind of death."

"No one does," Glorfindel said.

"Well, thanks for not filling me in on what you know," Michaelson said with a sneer as he got up. "Don’t bother seeing me out; I know the way. Janna says ‘hi’ by the way, and I was to remind you that Kevin’s birthday is next week and you all are invited to the party."

"We’ll be there, never fear," Glorfindel assured him. "I truly am sorry, Dave."

"I know and I’m not really angry at you. It just... well, you know."

"Better than you think," Glorfindel said. "Now, I’ll see you out."

A couple of minutes later, Glorfindel returned to the library to find Daeron and Amroth still there, quietly conversing. When he walked in they looked up.

"What now?" Amroth asked him.

"We should inform Alex about this," Glorfindel replied. "He needs to know. Farrell needs to be found and dealt with sooner rather than later."

"I’ll go over and speak with him," Amroth volunteered and when Glorfindel nodded, he left.

"This is getting very dangerous," Daeron commented.

"Tell me about it," Glorfindel said with a sigh.

43: Further Conversations

Amroth walked over to the campus to find some of the children (as he thought of them) outside playing ‘forts’, as they called it. He stood beside a pine tree, unobtrusively watching the game, smiling at the overblown antics as he saw one person clutching his chest and doing a fair imitation of someone dying Charlie Chaplin style, while everyone else pretty much ignored him, too intent on trying to make another ‘kill’ to care. There was yelling back and forth and Amroth was amused to hear the occasional cursing in Sindarin, especially Glorfindel’s favorite swear word, pui-en-orch.

He could see Alex and Derek fighting side-by-side and in a rare flash of foresight, he ‘saw’ them standing together elsewhere and elsewhen with strange weapons in their hands, calmly facing opponents whom he could not see in his vision, yet knew in his heart that they had to be of the Enemy. He did not think it was the Dagor Dagorath, but certainly it was an opening skirmish in the war that was coming. The vision faded almost as soon as it appeared and Amroth forced himself not to shiver at its implications. Yet, in a way, the vision had heartened him, knowing that these two would be staunch battle comrades, gwedyr and more than gwedyr: they would be allies.

He wondered if he should tell the others of this, but even as the idea reached him, he decided not to. Not yet. It is too soon. The time for such revelations is not yet. He frowned, wondering why he thought that, but the feeling of indecision passed and he put the vision from his mind as he sauntered over to the forts to get Alex’s and Derek’s attention, never realizing that someone had been standing beside him, willing him to forget the vision for a time.

Olórin, presently on watch at the Academy, nodded in satisfaction, smiling at the Children (all of them) as an errant snowball found its way into Amroth’s face, startling the Elf, while laughter rang across the campus. He watched in amusement as Amroth reached down to make his own snowball, the light of battle in his eyes, as he merrily joined the students, much to their delight.

*They never grow up, do they?*

Olórin’s orange-yellow aura brightened in laughter as his brother Fionwë joined him.

*For which we can be thankful,* he said, shifting his aura toward the blue spectrum, which, had he been incarnate, would have manifested itself as a wry look. *If they ever truly grow up, they would be impossible.*

Fionwë’s own blue-white aura deepened into indigo in laughter. *Very true.*

*How are things at Edhellond?*

*Quiet, for now. They await Amroth’s return.*

*Which, judging from his actions at the moment, may be awhile.*

Fionwë’s aura went incandescent with laughter, though none of the Incarnates noticed, or if they did, they put it down to sun-glare.

*Eönwë is sending reinforcements,* Fionwë said when he calmed down.

*Oh?* Olórin’s aura deepened to an orange-red. *Does he think we two incapable of handling any situation that arises here?*

*Here, no. He has every confidence that we can contain things here,* Fionwë replied, his normally blue-white aura shifting towards green with anger. *But the situation in Washington is turning critical. The Enemy is influencing certain people in the Agency to move against the Academy, using Artemus and the one calling himself Farrell as pawns. Atar, apparently, is putting certain game-pieces in play sooner than we were expecting.*

*I was unaware that the Enemy was making such a blatant move at this time,* Olórin said, his aura now almost in the infrared in dismay. *I thought we had more time.*

*Eönwë thinks that the Enemy is gathering its own forces among those whom young Artemus would call co-workers. Farrell may be one such. Certainly his actions of late make him a likely candidate. Yet, our lord is unsure that he is even full aware that he is playing into the Enemy’s hands.*

*I would not call him evil, myself,* Olórin said grimly, *yet, he is not entirely on the side of Light. Taking the lives of those two unfortunate Children as he did clearly puts him outside our purview.*

*Need I remind you that we are not to interfere with what must happen here?* Fionwë asked. *As difficult as it is to stand by and watch, some things must happen if we are not to lose all.*

*This I know,* Olórin replied with a tinge of sadness manifesting itself as streaks of red-violet mixed in with his normal orange-yellow aura. *There will be pain for them all soon enough, but it will be necessary if we are to forge the weapons that these Children must become in order for us to win against the Enemy. While it may be foretold that we will ultimately win, nothing is ever certain in this universe and free will rules all.*

Fionwë’s aura was shot with yellow in assent. *Only Atar’s love for us all is certain, though nothing else is.*

The two Maiar continued watching the game being played by the Children, making bets between themselves as to who would survive and who would not, smiling as Amroth joined forces with Alex and Derek, the three of them forming a formidable team. Both Maiar nodded in satisfaction, for they knew that, in some way known only to the One, these three would play an important role in the future, a role that would prove vital to the success of Elf Academy as the bastion of the Light.

****

The game was declared a tie when several of the players decided that it was too cold for them and everyone trooped inside to grab some hot drinks and warm up. Amroth joined Alex and Derek as they followed the others in. Amroth gave the two Mortals a smile.

"We make a pretty good team, wouldn’t you say?"

Both Mortals nodded. "You have a wicked throw and amazing accuracy," Derek commented. "I’m glad you were on our side."

Amroth laughed.

Alex gave him a shrewd look. "Was there a reason why you came over here, other than to join us in a silly snowball fight?"

"Yes, but let’s grab some coffee or something and go to my office where we’ll be more private."

The other two agreed and a short time later armed with coffee (Alex and Amroth) and hot chocolate (Derek), they made their way to Amroth’s office. Amroth sat behind his desk while the two Men sat before him, sipping their drinks.

"Dave Michaelson came by earlier," Amroth said without preamble and at the enquiring looks of the two Mortals, went on to explain, "You met him and his family at the picnic, Alex." Alex nodded, remembering where he’d heard the name before. "Besides being a good friend of ours, Dave is also chief of police for Wiseman." He paused for a moment and when he resumed his narrative, he spoke barely above a whisper, not looking at them, his eyes full of pain. "They found Ersck’s and Snyder’s bodies over at Big Lake. Someone broke through the ice and dumped them in the lake, apparently thinking that the ice would reform."

"But it didn’t," Alex said shrewdly.

Amroth shook his head. "No. It didn’t. The temperatures have warmed up enough that the ice isn’t forming immediately. Two early-morning fishermen found the hole and the bodies."

"The bloody fool!" Alex exclaimed. "Does he really think he can get away with that? He should have simply bought their silence, sent them out of the country, anything but...."

"How will Washington respond to this?" Amroth asked.

"That all depends on what they know," Alex replied. "If we can make it look as if these deaths have nothing to do with the Agency, we can buy time. How much, I can’t venture to guess, but if Washington learns that Farrell —"

"Assuming it was Farrell or one of the other agents you mentioned who actually killed them," Derek interjected.

"If there is any hint that these deaths can be linked to the Agency there will be hell to pay and too many innocent people could be hurt," Alex retorted angrily. "Why he recruited them in the first place is beyond me. He had three other highly trained agents who could’ve done the job."

"Perhaps, after losing the other five, he didn’t want to risk losing these, knowing he wasn’t going to get anymore," Amroth ventured.

Both Alex and Derek nodded at that assessment.

"The problem is," Amroth continued, sitting back in his chair and taking a sip of his coffee, "until now, we’ve been able to keep all of this in-house, so to speak. But now, the authorities, in the persons of the chief of police and the sheriff, are aware that there is trouble here and that there are outside forces that are proving inimical to our continuing existence. They’re going to start asking questions and we can’t give them any satisfactory answers without exposing your involvement in this, Alex, and, whether you realize it or not, you’re our ace in the hole."

"I know," Alex said with a nod, "and I agree. What Farrell did was not only against the rules but seriously compromises the standing of the Agency. His only hope is to prove somehow that Elf Academy, or at least, those who are running it, are a threat to the security of the United States and its government."

"Does he have proof?" Derek asked.

"I have no idea," Alex said. "He would have the same access to information as I, but whether he can make anything out of it is problematic. Even I couldn’t make any sense of the data given to me, you saw that."

Derek nodded. "It seems to me that what is needed is something that will send the police off on a tangent away from us and looking elsewhere."

"Any suggestions?" Amroth asked with a quirk of a smile.

"What explanation did you give for those men being here in the first place?" Alex asked.

"As far as the police are concerned, Ersck and Snyder were after Jack Whitman for the purpose of blackmailing his father for money. However, Jack’s family knows nothing of this and both Dave and Carl have agreed not to tell them. As far as the public is concerned, their motives for breaking into the Academy remain unknown."

"If we can... er... plant some evidence showing that those dudes were after Jack Whitman then that makes it a non-Academy affair," Derek offered. "Jack could’ve been kidnapped on the street or in his home, but he just happened to be at the Academy. I wonder why he’s living here instead of at home, though?"

"He prefers to live here. The Whitman household is rather crowded with three younger sisters," Amroth answered with a knowing smile and the two Men smiled back.

"And what kind of evidence are you thinking of planting and where would you plant it?" Alex asked, curious to see how his friend’s mind worked.

"Well, that’s the tricky part, I admit," Derek said ruefully. "It was just an idea and probably not a very good one."

"What if there were another attempt?" Alex asked. "Oh, not for real, but if we arranged for someone to try to take Jack, and we’ll need to let him in on it for his own safety, then maybe...."

Amroth shook his head. "If we were to stage such a thing, that poor boy will know no peace. His father will insist on him returning home and placing him under guard. Jack is trying to make it on his own. He’s here under the work-study program and isn’t taking a dime from his father for tuition and such."

"Well, I can certainly respect that," Derek said and Alex nodded.

"However, there is some merit in what you both have said about providing evidence that leads the eyes of the authorities away from this Academy and looking elsewhere for their answers as to how two criminals ended up in Big Lake. I’ll have to take it up with Loren and the others and see what we can come up with. In the meantime, I don’t need to remind you to stay alert."

Both Men shook their heads.

"Loren has decided to discontinue our night patrol, though, frankly, I’m a bit uneasy about that. I don’t think we will truly rest until we have Farrell and his friends contained and neutralized."

"I know," Alex said, "and I agree with you. To tell you the truth, I’ve only been able to sleep these past few nights simply because I knew you guys were on duty."

Amroth gave him a considering look. "Speaking of which, how are your dreams? Do you still have nightmares?"

Alex shook his head. "Nor am I dreaming about... er... well about things." He stole a glance at Derek, unwilling to speak about his dreams of Beren and Bregdal.

Derek just shrugged. "It’s none of my concern, and I won’t ask, but if you ever need to talk...."

"Thanks. I appreciate it, really, it’s just a bit hard right now," Alex said, giving him a grateful look.

Derek nodded and Amroth leaned forward, staring intently at Alex, who met his gaze with equanimity. "Remember what I told you about ignoring your dreams."

"I remember and, truly, ever since I recovered from that stomach flu I haven’t been bothered by dreams of any sort. I can’t even tell you if I actually have dreamt."

"I’ll let Ron know, if you don’t mind," Amroth said and Alex shook his head. The Elf stood and the other two followed. "I cannot advise you as to what to do about Farrell, except to be cautious. He tried to take you, Derek, and he may try again. I’m going to see if I can convince Loren to continue with the patrols until this is all cleared up. Not all will bother, but I know the Twins will join me and maybe Conan or Gil."

"Should I contact Maddy and let her know what’s happened?" Alex asked. "She’s already aware that Farrell brought outsiders into this, but she may not have learned about Ersck’s and Snyder’s deaths."

"I would hold off contacting her just yet," Amroth advised. "If she contacts you later asking why you didn’t forward the information to her, just tell her that you hadn’t made the connection. You said you mentioned no names when you reported to her."

"I just said that Farrell had hired two locals to make the snatch, but that they were foiled in their attempt and were placed in custody. I haven’t told her yet that Farrell apparently sprang them from jail."

"Then, I suggest you play dumb for now," Amroth said. "Let Maddy make the next move. But heed me well, both of you," and his voice deepened and the two Men straightened in response. "Under no circumstances are you to to go after Farrell yourself."

"Why not?" Alex demanded. "I would think you would want me to go after him and stop him."

"You’re too valuable to us alive to risk getting yourself killed and I have no doubt that Farrell is just ruthless enough that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you to further his own ends, whatever they may be."

"What do you mean by that?" Derek asked, looking confused.

"I mean that Farrell is obviously playing his own game and until we can figure out what that is, we’re all in danger, but especially you, Alex. I have no doubt Farrell has it in for you. So please, no heroics. Continue playing the student and let me and the others handle this. After all, we’ve been at it a lot longer than you have."

"Oh?" Alex said. "I thought you were the only one who was involved in espionage."

Amroth grinned. "Someday, when this is all over, you should ask Glorfindel and Daeron about their time in fourteenth century Florence spying on the Ghibillines for the Guelphs. The tale makes for interesting hearing." With that, he ushered them out the door, bidding them good-bye, leaving them both standing there gaping in disbelief.

****

Gwedyr: (Sindarin) Plural of gwador: Sworn-brother.

44: New Orders

Alex returned from taking a shower Tuesday morning to find a thin manila envelope lying before his door. He picked it up with a sigh and entered the room where Derek was busy making his bed and straightening up a bit. Alex waved the envelope at him.

"Found this outside."

"What is it?" Derek asked.

"I’m very tempted not to look," Alex replied as he threw the envelope on the desk, then hung up his wet towel, stowing his toiletry bag away. "I have a feeling it’s not going to be pleasant reading."

"From the Agency?"

"Probably." Alex pulled out a blue flannel shirt and jeans and started dressing, patently ignoring the envelope on the desk.

"So the question is, who dropped this off?" Derek said as he sat on the edge of his bed to put on his shoes.

"Probably the same person who dropped off the other envelope, but I have no idea."

"Someone here is acting as a courier for the Agency?"

"Apparently. I didn’t really think about it. Whether the person actually works for the Agency or is just an innocent pawn, who can say? There was no one else in the hall when I came out of the bathroom." He buttoned his shirt and tucked it inside his jeans, then sat to put his own shoes on.

"So are you going to open it?" Derek asked.

"Not before breakfast," Alex retorted with a grin. "I refuse to do any spy-stuff on an empty stomach."

Derek grinned. "I hear you, mate. C’mon. It’s waffles today with real maple syrup, I hear."

"Sounds good to me," Alex said as he stood and the two made their way out of the room, leaving the envelope unopened.

****

Alex and Derek spent the morning visiting the last of the resorts on the list and the afternoon improving their skills in reindeer sledding. By now, Alex was more comfortable around the creatures and was able to deal with them without any problem. So, it wasn’t until they returned for dinner that the subject of the envelope arose.

"You have to open it sooner or later," Derek said when Alex groaned at the sight of the envelope.

"Well, let’s make it later. I really don’t want to know what’s inside it. I just know it will not be good news for me and I’m enjoying myself too much to want it to be ruined by business."

"You sound as if you’re on holiday," Derek said with a knowing smile.

"Compared to my other assignments of late, this is a holiday and I mean to enjoy every minute of it. You have no idea what a strain it is to be a bad guy all the time, pretending that you really do enjoy blowing up things and people. Just being a student is a bloody relief even if it does mean dealing with the intricacies of Sindarin and all."

"Still, aren’t you the least bit curious?" Derek asked.

Alex gave him a wry look. "What? You really want me to open it? Maybe I should drop by Amroth’s office tomorrow with it and we can open it there. I’m sure its contents will be of interest to the Elves."

"Why don’t we just have an opening-of-the-envelope party and invite all our friends?" Derek retorted with a sneer, but Alex laughed, refusing to be baited.

"That sounds like a good idea," he said. "If you want to order the cake, I’ll buy the balloons."

"You’re so evil," Derek said as he gathered up his toiletry bag and headed out the door. Alex merely grinned.

****

Wednesday, Alex took the envelope with him as he and Derek headed for their Nature Studies class, intending to make a detour to Amroth’s office, but the Elf was not there and Glorfindel’s office was empty as well. Frustrated, he shoved the envelope in his book bag and they went on to class.

"We’ll have to try again later," Alex said.

But when they reached their classroom they were surprised to find their usual instructor, Daisy, was not there. Instead, Amroth was there speaking with Vorondur. The two Elves looked up when Alex and Derek approached them.

"Good morning," Vorondur said with a smile.

"That depends," Alex shot back, pulling out the envelope. "This was left in front of our room yesterday. I thought you might want to be present when I open it."

"We’re going to have a party with cake and ice cream and y’all are invited," Derek said with a straight face. Both Elves raised eyebrows in disbelief.

Alex gave him an amused smile, then turned back to the Elves. "Cake and ice cream aside, I think we should get together later with Loren and see what’s inside this envelope. It won’t be good news, of that I’m sure."

"I’ll inform Loren and let you know," Amroth said. "If someone left this for you that means someone inside the Academy is working for the Agency."

"Not necessarily," Vorondur pointed out. "The doors of the Academy are unlocked at five when the kitchen staff arrives. That means anyone can enter from outside after that and whoever left this for you wouldn’t necessarily be working for the Agency. They may simply be a courier with no idea who is paying them."

"True," Amroth said with a sigh. "We’ll contact you later. In the meantime, you had best get on with the class." This last was directed at Vorondur who nodded.

"So where’s Daisy?" Alex asked Vorondur as Amroth left to attend to his own duties.

"She needed some time off so I’m taking over the class today," was all Vorondur said and then he was calling the class to order as Alex and Derek went to their seats.

****

Later that afternoon, as they were heading for their fencing class, Alex and Derek met Amroth standing outside the gym. He greeted them, motioning for them to join him while the other students filed past and spoke to them in a whisper. "After dinner in Loren’s office," was all he said and the two nodded their understanding as Amroth walked away.

They did not hurry through dinner, but took their time, lingering a bit over coffee and dessert before heading for the administrative wing and Glorfindel’s office, arriving around seven, to find the room rather crowded. Besides Glorfindel, the Twins, Amroth, Daeron and Vorondur were also present.

"Normally, I would’ve suggested you come out to Edhellond," Glorfindel said as the two Men entered, "but I want to avoid you going there. I suspect we are still under surveillance and it’s best that we not be seen meeting all the time. Here, who would know?"

Alex nodded as he took the envelope in his hand and threw it on the desk. "Who wants to do the honors?" he asked.

Glorfindel gave him an amused look. "It’s addressed to you."

Alex grimaced, reluctantly picking up the envelope again and slitting it open, pulling out a single sheet of paper. He glanced at it, his lips thinning as he held his emotions in check while everyone looked on. Finally, he handed the paper to Amroth who took a quick look.

"It’s a termination order," he said.

"Whose?" Glorfindel asked.

Amroth gave him a sardonic look. "Need you ask?" He gave the paper to Glorfindel who read through it, then glanced up at Alex.

"Well it’s not as if we didn’t know you were sent here to do just this," he said, waving the paper in his hand.

Alex, however, shook his head. "My orders were to assess the situation, then report back before making any decisions as to what to do about one Ambrose Elwood. The possibility that I might, and I stress that, might have to take Ambrose out was always there, but never explicitly stated."

"Until now," Amroth said.

Alex nodded. "Until now. Farrell must know that you’ve returned or there would be no point in any of this, first the kidnapping attempt and now the termination order. You’re supposed to be missing, apparently kidnapped by persons unknown. I’m surprised he hasn’t contacted me, demanding an explanation."

"He may be waiting to see what you do now," Glorfindel suggested.

"May I see it?" Derek asked, holding out his hand, apparently not paying much attention to the conversation. Glorfindel gave it to him. Derek examined the paper closely, feeling its edges, even sniffing it and holding it up to the light while everyone else watched him with various degrees of bemusement.

"What are you doing?" Alex asked.

"What you should’ve done from the beginning," Derek replied, "checking to see if this is authentic."

"Why wouldn’t it be?" Alex retorted.

Derek gave him a disbelieving look. "And you call yourself a spy? You’re far too trusting, gwador."

All the Elves smiled at Derek calling Alex gwador but Alex merely scowled. "That order is legitimate. Lord knows I’ve seen more than enough of them to know."

"Maybe," Derek said vaguely, his attention on the piece of paper. He shoved it in Alex’s face, pointing to a signature. "Is this your boss?" he asked.

Alex glanced at the page and nodded. "Madison Washburn is the Deputy Director. All my orders come through her."

"Didn’t she sign one of those background documents you showed me?"

"I think so. Why?"

"Would you mind getting them? I want to compare the signatures."

Alex stared at Derek for a moment then nodded. "I’ll be right back," he said and left.

"You really think the signature is forged?" Amroth asked Derek while they were waiting for Alex to return.

"I don’t know," Derek admitted. "I may be off-base, but it’s best to be sure."

"I confess I’m not familiar with Maddy’s signature, not enough to be able to identify it the way I was able to identify Alex’s," Amroth admitted.

"We’ll find out soon enough," Glorfindel said.

"What would it mean if it does turn out to be a forgery?" Elrohir asked, but no one was able or willing to answer his question and they lapsed into silence, waiting.

Alex returned about five minutes later carrying the other envelope. "Here, this is Maddy’s signature," he said, pulling out one of the documents and handing it to Derek who took both sheets and laid them on the desk, moving the desk lamp closer for better illumination as he examined them. After a tense moment or two he straightened.

"The signature is a forgery," he proclaimed.

"How can you be so sure?" Alex demanded.

"While I was in Naval Intelligence I was responsible for determining if documents were forged or not. There are certain signs to look for and, of course, signatures are a prime source of forgery. Everything may be correct, but the signature can be wrong. I learned how to tell the difference. If we accept that the background documents were sent on Ms Washburn’s orders then this termination order was not signed by Madison Washburn. I would swear to it in a court of law."

The expression on everyone’s faces was grim. "Farrell?" Elladan ventured.

"Probably," Alex said, not wishing to commit himself completely.

"So what does it mean?" Vorondur asked.

"It means this whole affair is about to go south in a most spectacular way," Alex replied with a grimace. "Farrell knows that only the D.D. or one of the higher-ups can sign that order. That signature looks close enough to Maddy’s real signature at a glance that Farrell is betting that I’ll take it at face value. He’s forcing my hand, compromising me either way."

"What do you mean?" Glorfindel asked.

"If I terminate Ambrose and it is later learned that Maddy didn’t sign it, and there can be no proof that Farrell sent it, then I’ve superseded my orders. If I don’t follow through with it, Farrell can act against me, citing contempt. I have no doubt he’s covering all bases even now in anticipation of my going either way."

"But if no order was actually sent...." Elrohir began, but Amroth shook his head, answering for Alex.

"It wouldn’t matter. Alex is correct. Farrell is forcing him to act and I’m sure he’s betting on you not complying with these orders. He already gave you a deadline for Thanksgiving."

"These orders say nothing about a deadline," Derek pointed out.

"There wouldn’t be," Alex said. "Oh, it’s not that the Agency expects you to take your time carrying out the orders, but you normally don’t just walk up to a person and blow their brains out. Most of the time, the person whom you are sent to take out is in hiding or is very well guarded. It may take days or even weeks before you are in a position to do anything about it and the Agency likes their assassins to be discrete and make it look like an accident or natural causes."

Derek gave him a troubled look. "Is that what you are, an assassin?"

Alex gave him a shrug. "When the circumstances call for it, yes. I’m sorry, Derek. I wish I could say that I’m as innocent as new-fallen snow, but I’m not. Under other circumstances, I would be labeled a murderer, but the United States government has seen fit to give me permission to kill with impunity and there’re no two ways about it. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never enjoyed taking a life, even when the person probably deserved it."

"You don’t know?" Derek asked.

"I go where my controllers tell me, and do what I’ve been sent to do, but that doesn’t mean I do so blindly. Only once did I question an order for termination and I made them show me tangible proof that the person they wanted eliminated needed to be taken out because on the surface there didn’t seem to be any reason for the order. Once I was convinced that their reasoning was sound, I followed through with the assignment, distasteful though it was on several levels. And actually, I tried to convince the person to turn himself in instead, but he forced my hand and in the end I had no choice. It was either him or me."

"Well, this is all beside the point," Glorfindel said. "We need to address the situation at hand. How do you want to play this?" This last was directed at Amroth.

"The only way to get Farrell off our backs is to convince him that I’m dead," Amroth replied. "Della and I can go back into hiding for a time. As it is, she’s beginning to reach the stage in her pregnancy where she and the twins are drawing on my life force to sustain them. I’m not going to be much use to anyone for the next year and even after the children are born, you know this."

The Elves all nodded. Alex and Derek exchanged bemused looks, not entirely sure what the Elf was saying. Derek examined the orders again. "This says to terminate with extreme prejudice Ambrose Elwood, but your name is Ryan McKinley."

"When I worked for the Agency, I was known as Ambrose Elwood," Amroth explained.

"Yes, but, don’t you see? The order is for the death of an Ambrose Elwood," Derek insisted. "I’m assuming that if you were, say, pulled over for speeding and asked for I.D., your driver’s license wouldn’t say ‘Ambrose Elwood’ but ‘Ryan McKinley’."

"And your point?" Amroth asked.

"If they were to get a hold of your fingerprints, would they match up with their records for Ambrose Elwood?" Derek asked.

Amroth gave him a considering look. "No. They would not. When I planned my escape, I arranged for a local contact in Kuwait to falsify the death records and I left all my I.D. with the body of the unfortunate who would be buried with my name on foreign soil. I obtained fingerprint and dental records and substituted them for mine in case there was an investigation, which, apparently there never was."

"How did you manage the substitution without getting caught?" Alex asked.

Amroth smiled. "Child, I’m an Elf, and while I don’t have the mental powers that Glorfindel has, I can still cloud the eyes and minds of Mortals and make them forget they saw me."

"So, as far as the world is concerned, all records will say that the person that was buried with your name is Ambrose Elwood," Derek said, "and the only proof they have otherwise is that you look like this Elwood, but all records will show that you are one Ryan McKinley. This order doesn’t say to terminate Ambrose Elwood a.k.a. Ryan McKinley, it only says to terminate Ambrose Elwood, but Ambrose Elwood is dead and I’m assuming he was declared legally dead by the courts."

"Yes, because there was a will which was probated," Alex said. "I know, because I inherited what little Ambrose had in the way of worldly goods, mostly books. It was pretty much rubber-stamped and nothing was contested."

"And there’s your loophole," Derek said. "You can honestly say that you have no actual proof that the man standing before you is the same Ambrose Elwood you knew fifteen years ago. This order is directed against a man who is already and quite legally dead. Just because this guy here looks like he could be Elwood’s twin doesn’t make him Elwood."

"But I told Farrell that he was Ambrose and don’t forget that little stunt we pulled in the Safeway parking lot. I was bringing Ambrose in as far as he’s concerned." Alex protested. "How do we explain that away?"

"Did you and Farrell ever meet?" Derek asked Amroth.

"No. In fact, I don’t remember him in the Agency," Amroth replied. "Of course, I didn’t train all of the agents and we were never introduced."

"Not even when he was here for that accreditation thing? If he knew who you were, wouldn’t he have made it a point to speak with you?"

"No. In fact, he would’ve gone out of his way not to speak with me if he could possibly help it. While we never encountered one another in the course of our work for the Agency, he couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t recognize him somehow. In fact, while all the instructors and administrators were interviewed by the members of the accreditation committee, we were not interviewed by them all." Amroth gave them an amused smile. "In fact I was interviewed by a sweet lady in her sixties who kept referring to me as ‘young man’."

The other Elves grinned at that but Derek only nodded, intent on making his case. "Then, Farrell has no personal proof that you, Ryan McKinley, are also Ambrose Elwood. It’s only his word against Alex’s and Alex can always claim that he was mistaken in his belief that you are this Ambrose Elwood character. Who’s going to really know what was and wasn’t said between the two of them?" he insisted. "Just because you bear a remarkable resemblance to the late lamented Ambrose Elwood, fingerprints and dental records will say that you are not one and the same person."

"What about voice and retinal identification or even DNA samples?" Alex asked.

Amroth shook his head. "There was never a voice or retinal scan done on me. Those technologies came into vogue after I left the Agency. Same thing with DNA samples. Any samples they might get off of personal items will be contaminated with yours and anyone else’s who’s handled them since my death."

"Then all they can rely on are fingerprints and dental records and those are covered," Derek said with a nod. "And there’s where we can convince your bosses that they’re barking up the wrong tree. Unless and until they can positively prove that Ryan McKinley is also Ambrose Elwood, then this termination order is invalid. Leastways, that’s how I see it."

There was silence among them as they thought out the implications of Derek’s statement. Finally Glorfindel stirred, giving the young Man a smile. "Ever think of becoming a lawyer?"

Derek shook his head, grinning. "Nah. There are already enough sharks in the water as it is."

Everyone chuckled. Alex gave Amroth a considering look. "How tight is Ryan McKinley’s background?"

Amroth smiled. "Child, need you ask?"

Alex nodded. "Then what we need to do is to provide thorough documentation on Ryan McKinley to show that when Ambrose Elwood was considered dead, Ryan McKinley did not just show up out of the blue. We have to convince a lot of people, Farrell especially, that Ryan McKinley is no more Ambrose Elwood than I’m the Count of Monte Cristo."

"I’ll start making copies of every legal document that I created for Ryan McKinley and get them to you," Amroth said.

"Good," Alex said in satisfaction, slipping the termination order back in the envelope. "In the meantime, I’m going to ignore this order and see what Farrell does next. If I can have the copies ASAP, then when Farrell contacts me, I’ll have the evidence I need to justify my not obeying the order."

"Will you call him on the forgery?" Derek said.

"Perhaps. I don’t know for sure," Alex admitted. "I have to see which way he goes."

"But what if Farrell insists these documents of Ryan’s are themselves forgeries, which they are, in a way?" Elrohir asked.

Amroth shook his head. "These documents will stand up in any court of law. You forget, I spent nearly fifty years planning my escape, learning everything I needed to know in order to create a believable persona as real as you are. Farrell may try to dispute that, but all the evidence will be against him."

"Well, let us hope this will help get the Agency off our backs," Glorfindel said with a sigh.

"And if it doesn’t?" Daeron asked, speaking for the first time.

"Let’s cross that bridge when and if we have to," Glorfindel pleaded, standing. "In the meantime, we will continue as we have." He addressed the two Mortals. "Daeron has convinced me that we should continue with the night patrols, so you may rest easy on that score. Derek, thank you. Your service is proving invaluable. I see why the Valar inspired you to come here."

Derek gave them a shy look and Alex grinned at his friend. "C’mon, gwador. Let’s go down to the game room and shoot some pool before going to bed. I’m too wound up to try to sleep just yet."

"I’m right behind you," Derek said and the two Men bid the Elves good night.

45: Dreams and Races

The game room was empty when they arrived, which made it all the better as far as Alex and Derek were concerned. As Derek racked the balls, he said, "This Farrell sounds like he’s losing it. That can make him doubly dangerous. When he realizes you’re not following orders, what will he do?"

"That certainly is the question," Alex answered as he lifted down a couple of cues, handing one to Derek. "He did give me until Thanksgiving, though sending me the termination order sounds as if he’s pushing the deadline up. To tell you the truth, this is all rather new to me. I’m not used to having someone pulling the strings. Until now, I’ve always had carte blanche with regards to how I handle a particular assignment and the Powers That Be were apparently happy to let me do things in my own way and in my own time. I don’t know what’s changed so that Farrell ends up calling the shots."

Derek fished out a quarter from his pocket. "Call," he ordered as he flipped it into the air, catching it neatly.

"Heads," Alex replied.

"It’s tails," Derek said, showing him the coin. He shoved the quarter in his pocket and proceeded to line the cue ball up to make the break shot. "Tell me about what happened at the Safeway," he said as they watched the balls roll in all directions. The solid blue ball dropped into one of the side pockets and Derek walked around the table, aiming at the solid red ball. It just missed going into the pocket at which he was aiming and now Alex began lining up for his shot, aiming at the yellow striped ball.

"The Agency sent eight other agents into the field, but I never knew who they were," Alex explained as he watched the ball go into a side pocket and moved around the table to line up his next shot. "All I had were email addresses. I decided that with Farrell in charge of the eight other agents, I was outnumbered. I needed to level the playing field a bit more." He went on to describe what happened as he landed another shot, sending the green striped ball into a corner pocket. He missed his next shot and Derek took his turn.

"So, first you tell Farrell that McKinley and Elwood are not the same person, then you say they are and you make an arrangement for a pick-up which goes all wrong, thanks to our friendly, neighborhood Elves." Alex chuckled at that. "Damn! I can’t believe I missed such an easy shot," Derek exclaimed as he watched the solid green ball come to the lip of a side pocket without actually falling into it. As Alex took his turn, Derek continued his summation. "So now, we have to convince Farrell that you were completely mistaken, that McKinley isn’t Elwood after all and the people who interrupted the pick-up didn’t want McKinley to go with you guys for reasons unknown. Does that about sum it up?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Alex said as he watched the red striped ball carom against one of the cushions then roll across the table to fall into a corner pocket. "Looking back, I shouldn’t have arranged for that sting, but I wasn’t expecting things to turn out as they have. No, no, don’t do that. Don’t do that! Arg!" Derek chuckled at Alex’s antics as they watched the cue ball follow the brown striped ball into the pocket.

"Scratch," he said as he reached down and pulled both balls out, casually throwing the striped ball onto the table to knock against a couple of other balls before settling down while he took the cue ball and set it where he wished to make the next shot, easily placing the solid green ball into the pocket before which it was sitting, just avoiding putting the cue ball into the same pocket, and then proceeding to place the solid purple ball into the opposite pocket, thus evening up the number of balls pocketed. He spent a minute deciding on his next shot, aiming for the solid orange ball, but it caromed off two of the cushions and ended up hitting another ball and stopping. Derek uttered an oath while Alex grinned, adding more chalk to the tip of the cue as he analyzed the table, deciding which shot to make.

"So, what we need to do," Derek said, continuing the conversation as Alex leaned across the table, aiming at the blue striped ball, "is to neutralize Farrell."

"Kill him, you mean?" Alex asked as he watched the ball fall into a corner pocket.

"No. I mean neutralize him, make him inoperable. Discredit him before your bosses, so that anything he does or says about you or Amroth or anything else is disbelieved."

"That’s a tall order," Alex said with a frown. "I’m not even sure where to begin setting something like that up. If I knew...."

He was interrupted by the door opening and they looked up to see Glorfindel standing there giving them an amused smile. "Still at it, I see. You should be in bed. It’s late and you have a busy day ahead of you."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked. "We finished touring the resorts and all on Tuesday."

"Ah, but tomorrow we’re doing something special," Glorfindel answered, moving further into the room, glancing at the pool table.

"And would you care to enlighten us?" Derek asked.

"No. It’s a surprise," Glorfindel replied. "Now, you really should finish this game or call it and get some sleep."

"Do you ever sleep?" Derek asked and Glorfindel raised an eyebrow at the outrageous question.

"Of course, but Elves have the ability to go a long time without true sleep. We can weave waking dreams which refresh us even though we are wide awake. Many of the older Elves I knew in Aman had not bothered to engage in true sleep in centuries, for they no longer needed it. I suspect they were on the brink of fading, a condition that apparently is built into our genetic make up but living in Aman slows the process. Now, do I need to shoo you off to bed like bad little boys?"

"I’d like to see you try," Alex said with a grin. "Actually, we’re trying to figure out how to discredit Farrell before his superiors in the Agency as a means of getting rid of him and hopefully getting the Agency off our backs as well."

"And that is certainly a worthy goal and we can discuss it at a more reasonable hour," Glorfindel said, "but in the meantime, I really think you should go to bed."

"Yes, Nana. Anything you say, Nana," Alex retorted.

"Why don’t you play with us?" Derek suddenly asked, holding out his cue to Glorfindel. "I’m playing the solid colors. It’s still Alex’s turn, but we can let you go first and Alex and I will take turns playing the striped balls."

"And if I agree to this, will you go to bed without protest?" Glorfindel asked.

"Yeah, we’ll be good little boys and go straight to bed," Derek promised with a sardonic grin. "Sheesh, you sound like my grandma when I was six trying to get me to go to bed. Will you tuck us in and tell us a bedtime story as well?"

Glorfindel laughed as he took the proffered cue and proceeded to line up his shot. Unlike the Mortals, who hadn’t bothered, he actually called the shot. "Yellow in the left corner pocket," he said just before he hit the cue ball and they watched the yellow solid ball carom off a cushion and land neatly into the designated corner pocket. "Brown in the right side pocket," he said and they watched the ball carom twice off the cushion and then go into the right side pocket. Alex and Derek glanced at each other with almost identical scowls while Glorfindel lined up his next shot, this time with the solid orange ball. "Orange ball to the right corner pocket along with the red ball."

"Okay, now this I have to see," Derek muttered and Alex nodded in agreement for the position of the two balls in question defied proper alignment, yet when the orange ball was struck its trajectory was precise and it hit the red ball with enough force to send it across the table into the designated pocket with the orange ball right behind it. Both Mortals sighed. Glorfindel gave them a sly grin.

"Hey, why aren’t you aiming for the eightball?" Alex asked as he saw Glorfindel line up to apparently shoot at the purple striped ball.

"Too easy," Glorfindel said dismissively and then proceeded to neatly pocket all the remaining striped balls, calling every shot accurately so that, within a matter of minutes, only the eightball was on the table and, almost negligently, the Elf-lord sent the eightball caroming off three cushions before rolling down the length of the table to fall into the left corner pocket even as he had predicted. He straightened from his shot, giving the Mortals a wide grin. "Game over. Now to bed."

Both Alex and Derek sighed. "Remind me never to play poker with you," Derek said to Glorfindel as Alex hung up his cue. Glorfindel laughed and it was such a joyous laugh that the two Mortals couldn’t help grinning in spite of themselves.

"Good night, sleep tight, and may your dreams be pleasant," Glorfindel said as he ushered them out the door, turning off the lights and closing it.

"Good night," both Mortals said as they headed for the stairs. Ten minutes later they were both sound asleep.

****

Sometime in the night, Alex dreamt...

He was back at the Agency, heading for his office, a small cubicle in a sea of cubicles on the fourth floor of the building. When he arrived, though, he discovered someone waiting for him, sitting in the chair behind his desk.

It was Paul Jackson, his one-time friend and co-worker whom he had had to kill on orders from the Agency. Jackson looked up and smiled. "Have a seat, Meriwether," he said.

"Excuse me? What are you doing in my chair, Jackson? And aren’t you supposed to be dead?"

Jackson waved a hand in dismissal. "A minor detail which we can ignore for the moment. Sit down, old man, and let’s talk."

At Jackson calling him ‘old man’, a rush of memories came forward. It had been an inside joke between them, for it turned out that they were the same age and their birthdays were only one day apart with Alex being the older. Jackson had teased him by calling him ‘old man’ and he had retaliated by calling Jackson ‘Junior’. Alex sat in the chair before the desk, warily watching this man before him, who had been the closest thing to a friend that he had in the Agency and who had betrayed that friendship at the very end. Jackson, for his part, was shuffling through a bunch of papers, as if looking for a particular item. Finally, he looked up.

"You know, you are one sorry excuse for an agent," he said.

"Hello! I’m the best and you’re dead... Junior," Alex protested.

"You’re only alive because I screwed up," Jackson said with equanimity.

"Even if you had managed to kill me, your days were numbered," Alex retorted. "You wouldn’t have lived long enough to enjoy your escape from my hands. Now, just why the hell are you in my dream?"

"Believe it or not, I’m here to help you out of your little dilemma," Jackson replied with a smirk, one that Alex recognized from years before.

"Oh?"

Jackson nodded. "You’ve been going about this all wrong. Look, old man, you’ve been doing the Lone Wolf McQuade routine for so long you’ve forgotten how to play nicely with others. Look around you. What do you see?"

Alex complied. "A lot of cubicles just like this one."

"And what is inside those cubicles?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Other agents," he replied.

Jackson nodded. "Exactly. Other agents. Co-workers. Allies. Contacts. Shanna Machell, for instance."

"Who?"

Jackson gave him a disbelieving look. "Hello! Shanna Machell? The blond bombshell who sits in the cubicle next to yours?" He pointed to his right. "Who’s had a crush on you since day one. Who probably has an IQ higher than everyone on this floor, including you. Who’s a whiz in strategy."

"Has she ever been in the field?" Alex asked. "Because if she hasn’t, then she’s just another pencil-pusher as far as I’m concerned. And she does not have a crush on me."

Jackson sneered. "You wish. But to answer your question: no, she’s never had the pleasure of being out in the field, but that doesn’t mean she’s not useful. There is very little she doesn’t know about everyone who works here... including Mark Farrell."

Alex sat back, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Jackson sighed. "You’re dumber than dirt, aren’t you, old man. Look. What’s the first thing you need before you go out on an assignment?"

"Intelligence," Alex answered readily enough.

"Bingo! Give the man a cigar," Jackson retorted with a sardonic look. "What you lack, my boy, is intelligence, and you can take that either way you please. You need dirt on Farrell if you’re going to discredit him, right? Well, Shanna Machell is the person to see for that. If she doesn’t know it or can’t find it, no one on this good earth ever will."

"So I should contact Shanna and ask her about Farrell, is that what you’re telling me?"

Jackson nodded. "Yes, exactly. There are forces in the Agency inimical to you and your new friends, but there are also allies, if you just look for them. Now, our time is up, so this is goodbye, old man. Take care of yourself and someday I’ll see you on the other side."

Before Alex could respond to that, Jackson, the cubicle, the entire floor of the building, dissolved and then he was plunging into deep sleep once again....

*Do you think it will work?* Fionwë asked Olórin as the two watched as Alex half-woke and shifted his position before settling down again, slipping effortlessly back into a dreamless state.

*We’ll have to see,* Olórin replied. *With Mortals, it’s always difficult to get them to pay attention.*

*The Eldar are easier that way,* Fionwë said, his aura brightening with amusement.

*Sometimes,* Olórin retorted, his own aura giving off sparks of yellow, indicating laughter. Then the two thought themselves elsewhere, leaving the Mortals to their rest.

****

When Alex woke, the name Shanna Machell rang through his mind. He wasn’t sure why, for he couldn’t remember dreaming and the name meant very little to him. He knew who she was, but that was about it. Yet, the fact that he woke with her name on his lips, so to speak, was important. He glanced around and saw that Derek was already up and gone, no doubt taking a shower, so he climbed out of bed and sat at his desk, opening his laptop and once he had access to his email account, he sent off an encrypted email addressed to Shanna. A quick calculation informed him that it was nearly noon for her, so maybe she would get the email after her lunch break. He shut the laptop down just as Derek entered the room.

"Morning," he said with a smile. "If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast."

"I’m on it," Alex said, rising from his chair and grabbing a towel and other shower paraphernalia. "I’ll meet you at the cafeteria."

"Good enough," Derek said as he hung up his towel.

Alex hurried to the bathroom, hoping he wouldn’t have to wait long for a shower, but he lucked out and there was one free, so he was back in his room and dressing shortly thereafter. He made his way down the hall toward the cafeteria and joined the others in line. He was soon seated across from Derek.

"I wonder what Loren meant about us being busy today," he said quietly as he buttered his whole wheat toast and smeared strawberry jam on it.

Derek shrugged. "We’ll find out soon enough," he said philosophically. "I’m a little leery about people who say that something is a surprise. Usually that means I’m not going to like it."

Alex smiled. "Too true. Oh well, whatever."

They were finishing up their breakfast when they saw Barahir enter the cafeteria and go to the bulletin board where messages were posted, clearing a space on it and pinning a poster. Then, without a word or a backward glance, he left and Alex noticed that he still favored the leg that had been cut during the sword fight. He gave Derek a glance and then almost at the same time they rose to go see what the poster said. Others were also crowding around, commenting on the message.

"Races?" Derek asked.

"That’s what it says," Alex responded. "We’re to wear warm clothes and meet outside at nine thirty. That gives us about forty-five minutes."

"Well, if we’re going to be outside for any length of time, I’m getting myself another cup of coffee," Derek said and Alex grinned as he followed his roommate back to their table. They sat for about fifteen minutes enjoying their coffee. Others were still there and the conversations appeared to center around what kind of races they were going to be participating in. Finally, though, they went back to their room and undressed to put on warm clothes before joining their classmates outside where buses were waiting for them. They climbed in and took their seats and soon they were off. Once on the James Dalton highway, the buses turned south and after nearly an hour, took the turn-off leading towards Evansville and Bettles, finally stopping at the Northern Lights Holiday Resort, which lay just outside Evansville.

Some of the instructors were there to greet them, directing everyone toward the main lodge where they all congregated in the dining hall. Glorfindel was there with the other Elves and once everyone was more or less settled he addressed them. "We thought we would give you a break from your schedule. The people who run this resort were kind enough to lend us their facilities for the day. We’re going to have a mini-Iditarod race between here and Bettles." He held up a hand as people began commenting. "Now, not everyone can be a part of the race, unfortunately, but we have other activities in mind, so if you aren’t participating in that race, you’ll still have plenty of things to keep you occupied. How we will do this is to draw lots. We have ten dog sled teams. Each team will have eight mushers. Four will start here at the resort and the other four will be driven to the Aurora Borealis Ski Resort near Bettles where you will await your team. You will start out with two mushers for each leg of the race with one musher in the sled. It’s about ten miles between here and and the resort. At the halfway mark, you will stop and switch places. When you reach the resort, you will then give the team over to the next two mushers, who will return here to give the team over to the next two and then the last two mushers will come back here and the race will be over."

He paused for a moment and motioned for four of the Elves to station themselves at a corner of the room. Each held a large pot.

"Inside these pots," Glorfindel said, "are colored balls. Eighty of them are white. If you select a white ball you are in the race. If you select any other color, you’ll be doing something else, so hang on to your balls. If you receive a white ball and feel you don’t wish to participate, you are free to exchange your ball with that of one of your friends. Anyone with a white ball should make your way outside through this door over here and wait for further instructions. Everyone else stay here and we’ll let you know what you’ll be doing as soon as we’ve got the racers set. So pick a corner and good luck."

Alex and Derek walked over to the corner where Amroth was holding up the pot just high enough so no one could see inside as they reached for a ball. They had to wait a bit before they got to the front.

"It’s unlikely that we’ll both end up in the dog-sled race," Derek said.

"Or that we’ll even get the same colored ball," Alex commented with a nod.

"It’s like my dream," Derek said.

Alex gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Don’t you remember? I told you how I kept dreaming of being in the Iditarod before coming here."

"Oh yeah," Alex said with a nod. "So, if you get a white ball, it means your dream will have come true, sort of."

"Yeah. Weird, isn’t it?"

Then they were at the front of the line facing Amroth who gave them a smile. "Good luck," he said and the two reached in at the same time, drawing out their balls, hidden in their fists. Derek looked at Alex and they opened their hands at the same time. Derek’s ball was indeed white, but Alex held a green ball. Derek sighed but Alex just shrugged.

"Have fun," he said and Derek nodded, heading outside while Alex sauntered over to another part of the room where others were congregating showing off their balls. They were all colors: red, yellow, orange, blue, green, purple, brown or black. Finally, all the students had selected a ball and when those who would be in the dog-sled race were outside, Daeron came and spoke to the others.

"Don’t feel bad if you didn’t get a white ball," he told them. "We will be having other races and contests as well, so let’s split you up." He then proceeded to call out certain colors, directing the students to different parts of the room where they were greeted by a couple of the Elves. Alex and those with green balls trooped over by the fireplace where Vorondur awaited them. When everyone was where they needed to be, Daeron addressed them again.

"We’ve set up eight additional races, though not all of them are actual races, as you will see, but they are competitive. Your instructor will inform you which race or competition you will be in based on the color of your ball. As with the dog-sled race, if you’re in a race in which you don’t want to participate, either because you lack the necessary skill or just because, you will have the opportunity to swap with another. However, we intend to keep the numbers in each group the same, so some of you may be out of luck and you should just do the best you can. Your teammates can help you as much as they can. There aren’t any real prizes. These races are for the fun of it. So, instructors, please inform your groups about their particular race."

Alex turned his attention to Vorondur who smiled at them all. "All of you have had an opportunity to do snowshoe walking." There were nods all around. "Well, we will be holding a snowshoe relay race. You will divide into teams of five. It does not matter how you do it. Someone on your team should be designated as the starter and someone should be the finisher and then the other three will be in the middle."

"How long is the course?" someone asked.

"Sixteen kilometers or ten miles. You will each cover two miles, one mile to the marker and then back. The course is clearly marked with red cloth on the trees so you should have no problem. At the mile marker will be one of the instructors in case you are experiencing any difficulty. Now, if you’ll follow me we’ll get you your snowshoes and take you out to the starting point. Decide who’s going to be on your team and the order of your run before we reach the starting point."

With that, he led the way out of the lodge to a large shack where hung snowshoes of various types and sizes. A couple of the resort employees were on hand to help them find the proper size and soon they were all set. Alex ended up teaming with four people whom he didn’t know well, a young man named Nathan and three young women: Carla, Shafali, and Leanne. It was agreed that Nathan would start while the three women would run the middle part of the race with Alex finishing. Once everyone was ready, Vorondur pointed in the general direction in which they were to go then called ‘ready-set-go’ and to the shouts of encouragement from their teammates the racers were off.

Alex and the women watched as Nathan and the other racers made their way across the snowfield disappearing from view as the course bent around a stand of pine trees. "He needs to make a good start so we don’t lose time," Alex commented.

"I wonder what the other races are about?" Shafali asked.

"We’ll find out later, I suppose," Carla replied and then they lapsed into silence, waiting for the racers to return. Running on snow is not the same as running on pavement, so covering two miles takes longer, but just as some of the students were complaining about standing in the cold, they saw the first of the racers returning.

"Get ready," Alex ordered Shafali, who would go next. "When you see Nathan, stretch out your hand and be ready to go as soon as he touches you."

Shafali nodded, keeping her eyes on the approaching racers. "There he is!" Carla cried out. "Go, Nathan!"

Nathan came as quickly as he could and Alex could see he was breathing hard. He reached out to Shafali and they barely touched hands before she was off, third in the pack. Alex grabbed Nathan to keep him from stumbling. "Careful now. You did good, man. Now let’s get these shoes off you and have you walk around to cool off." Nathan could only nod, too breathless to speak.

Resort employees were approaching the returned racers, helping them with removing their shoes and handing them some hot cocoa. Then the others were served. Alex insisted that Nathan walk around a bit. "It’s like with horses," he said as he held onto Nathan’s elbow to help steady him. "If you don’t cool down properly you’ll regret it. So, what’s the trail like?"

"Not bad. There’s one part that’s twisty and uphill and then there’s another part that’s downhill and very steep. You really have to go sideways if you want to make it down. Some people ended up falling and ending up in a heap at the bottom of the hill. Took them awhile to untangle themselves," he added with a grin. "After that, it’s pretty straightforward."

"Do you come back the same way?" Carla asked.

"No. Dan Ronaldson is at the mile marker. He’ll point you at another direction that takes you around the hill so coming back it’s pretty flat all the way. You end up meeting the original trail right where those trees are." He pointed to the stand of pines.

So they waited for the next group to return. When Shafali came, she was right behind the leader. Carla got herself ready and then she was off and Alex and Nathan were giving Shafali a hand. "Whew! That’s a wicked course," she said with a gasp. "Nearly slid all the way down the dratted hill."

"Let’s hope Carla does okay," Nathan said and they all nodded, settling in for the wait.

Eventually, Carla and the others racing this leg returned and then Leanne was off. Alex gathered himself together, mentally psyching himself for his part of the race. Carla had come in fifth so Leanne needed to make better time in order for Alex to have a chance at placing. He wasn’t too concerned about whether his team won or lost. It wasn’t important to him, though he recognized that it might be for the others. He was simply enjoying himself.

By now, it was mid-afternoon and the sun was well down the western sky, though there was still plenty of daylight in which to finish the race. He wondered how Derek was getting on and if he was enjoying himself. Then Leanne and the others came around the bend and Alex got himself in line, his hand out, ready to set off as soon as Leanne touched him. He could see she was struggling to finish. "That’s it, Leanne. You’re almost there. Good girl. You can do it," he shouted and their teammates joined him in shouting encouragements and Leanne put on a burst of speed and then Alex was off.

He noted that there were already three others on the trail and he made long loping strides in an attempt to catch up, hoping to reach the dreaded hill before the others. He passed one racer and then another even as they all made the bend around the stand of trees, but he was unable to pass the lead racer, a young woman whom he did not know. He struggled on, trying to regulate his breathing, reaching the twisty part of the trail. It did indeed narrow and people had to take it in single file. The trail snaked among trees and bushes and then made a sharp left turn, climbing to the top of a ridge and the trail, he could see, continued along the ridge, supposedly to a point where one would then go downhill. The lead racer was nowhere in sight and Alex resigned himself to coming in second, which was fine with him. He ran along the ridge, keeping his eye out for the red cloth that marked the trail.

That was his downfall, for he did not pay as much attention to the actual trail as he should have and his right shoe slid dangerously close to the edge of the ridge. He gave a gasp as he attempted to regain his balance but to no avail. With a sickening lurch, he was caught in a mini-avalanche and fell on his back, slipping and sliding down the hill, trying desperately to slow his descent and avoid slamming into any of the trees. He hit a hummock of snow and went sailing into the air to crash into a tree. He saw stars for a brief second and then it all went dark.

46: Search and Rescue

Elladan rubbed his shoulder where the sword had sliced him, trying to ease the ache caused by the cold weather. It was a minor annoyance as he stood there watching the last set of racers reach the mile mark. He smiled as they came, one-by-one, pointing to the left.

"The trail is much easier from here on out," he said to them. "You’re doing great." The racers gave him weary smiles as they sauntered off. One... two... three... he mentally counted them off as they came. Six... seven... he looked for the eighth racer, sure that the person would be coming soon, but a minute went by and then three. He frowned at nothing in particular and reached for the walkie-talkie attached to his belt. He dialed it to a particular frequency, then spoke in it even as he kept his eyes on the trail.

"Ron, this is Dan."

"Go ahead, Dan."

"Only seven racers have come through. I’m going to backtrack on the trail."

"Hang on," came the command and there was a crackle of static for a moment and then it cleared. "Dan. It’s Alex. He never returned and none of the other racers saw anything out of the ordinary."

"Okay. I’m heading up the trail. Contact Loren and Ryan and my brother."

"We’re on our way."

Dan clipped the walkie-talkie back onto his belt and set off, lightly running on top of the snow, climbing the hill in a manner that would’ve stunned any of the Mortals had they witnessed it. Pain lanced through his shoulder as he reached out for a tree limb to steady himself as he climbed but he ignored it, concentrating on finding Alex, wondering what could’ve happened to the Mortal.

****

Glorfindel was standing in a field laughing as he watched a group of students attempt to climb over a wall of empty beer kegs in the winter obstacle course he and the other Elves had set up. It was one of the races they had devised and he had had much fun coming up with one zany obstacle after another. The Mortals were taking it in good stride and there was as much laughter among them as there were groans, so he assumed they were enjoying themselves. Walking away he decided to check to see how the ice shelter building contest was going. Besides these two contests, as well as the snowshoe and dog-sled races, there were races in cross-country skiing and ice skating, as well as an ice and snow sculpture contest and a chili cook-off all going on at the same time. The chili cook-off had been Elrohir’s idea, figuring that it would be a good way to feed everyone after all the races were done. He was supervising that, while also putting together one of his famous hot chocolate recipes with the help of Serindë.

He was making his way past the pond where the ice skating race was taking place when his walkie-talkie crackled to life.

"Loren, this is Ron."

"Go ahead, Ron." Glorfindel said.

"We have a problem," he heard Ron say. "One of our racers has gone missing. Dan’s backtracking the trail. He wants you, Ryan and Roy to help with the search."

"Who’s missing?" Glorfindel asked, his heart lurching. If any of the children were injured in these races it would be a terrible blow to people’s morale and he would never forgive himself, considering the races had been his idea in the first place.

"Alex," came the terse reply.

Glorfindel felt the blood drain from his face. Alex! Valar! Derek would never forgive them if anything happened to his gwador and he wasn’t there to help save him. "I’m on my way. I’ll find Ryan. You contact Roy."

"Will do," came the reply.

Glorfindel changed the frequency and pressed ‘send’ as he ran across the field to where he knew Amroth was overseeing the ice sculpture contest. "Gil, this is Loren."

"Go ahead, Loren," he heard Gil say. Gil was supervising the dog-sled race from the lodge.

"Is Derek with you?"

"No. He was in the third run. He should be at the resort by now. Why?"

"Alex was in the snowshoe race but he never completed the course. We’re doing a search for him now. Contact whoever’s at the resort and have them bring Derek here ASAP."

"That would be Conan."

"Good. Have Conan bring him to the lodge and keep him there. I’ll contact you as soon as I know anything."

He returned the walkie-talkie to his belt and slowed to a quick walk so as not to alert the students that anything was wrong. Amroth was standing with Nimrodel, the two of them admiring the various sculptures that were being created.

"Ryan!" he called out and Amroth turned, the smile on his face melting as he took in Glorfindel’s expression.

"What’s wrong?" he asked.

"It’s Alex," Glorfindel answered, speaking so that the nearby Mortals could not have heard. "He was in the snowshoe race and never completed the course. Dan’s looking for him now. Roy should be on his way as well."

"Let’s go," Amroth said. Nimrodel gave her husband a quick hug and then the two ellyn headed to where the snowshoe race had been held.

****

"Dan!"

"Here!" Elladan stood up from his crouch as he heard his brother calling to him. "Tread carefully," he admonished. "There are signs of an avalanche."

It was an unnecessary caution, for Roy’s feet barely touched the ground. Behind him came Glorfindel and Amroth.

"Did you find him?" Elrohir asked.

"Look," his twin said, pointing down into what appeared to be a gully, now steeped in shadow so it was difficult even for the Elves to see what lay below them, for it was late afternoon and the sun would be setting within an hour or so. "Part of the hill’s slid away. My guess is that he was walking too close to the edge and somehow slipped. He’s down there somewhere, according to the trees."

"Amroth, you’d better go back to the lodge and alert Marty," Glorfindel said, naming the resort’s owner. "Have him contact the med-evac team in Bettles. We may have to fly him out if he’s badly injured."

"I’ll bring back rope and a stretcher," Amroth said with a nod and headed back down the trail even as Elrohir was inching his way down the slope of the hill, clinging to one tree or another, careful not to set off another avalanche. Elladan and Glorfindel stood tensely by, barely breathing. At last, the ellon reached the floor of the gully and then Elladan started down while Glorfindel schooled himself to patience, waiting for the ellon to reach his brother before following. He saw Elladan stop and gasp as if in pain.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, tensing.

"Shoulder," came the reply and then Elladan started moving again. A minute later he reached the bottom and Glorfindel started down.

"Here," he heard Elrohir call softly as he inched his way down. "Let’s get this snow off him."

"What’s his condition?" Glorfindel called out, though not too loudly.

"He’s breathing and he’s pretty banged up," Elladan answered. "It’s a miracle he’s not dead and we can’t detect any broken bones."

"Thank the Valar!" Glorfindel reached the bottom and made his way to where the Twins were hunched over Alex, still half-covered in snow. The sons of Elrond were running their hands over the Mortal’s body, checking for injuries. "What about spinal injury or internal bleeding?" he asked as he knelt at Alex’s head, gently brushing the young Man’s hair.

"He’s lucky," Elrohir answered after a minute. "There’s no sign of internal injuries and his spinal cord is intact. He’s going to be a mass of bruises for awhile, though. Let’s see if we can rouse him." He leaned over, gently tapping Alex on the cheek and calling his name with voice and mind. Slowly, the Mortal responded, groaning slightly as he came to consciousness, blinking up at them, but not really seeing them yet.

"That’s it, Alex," Elrohir said gently. "Open your eyes."

Alex finally managed to keep his eyes open. He stared up at them blankly, giving no sign of recognition. He began struggling to sit up and three pairs of hands held him down.

"No, Alex. Stay still," Glorfindel ordered, but Alex refused to listen, fighting them.

"...Race... finish... race... gotta finish....can’t quit....shut up, Junior..."

"He’s raving," Elladan commented as they tried to sooth Alex’s struggles, which were becoming more and more frantic.

"Let him up," Glorfindel ordered, releasing his own hold on the Mortal and the Twins complied, helping Alex to sit up. They watched with concern as the Mortal attempted to extricate himself from the snow. Remarkably, the snowshoes were still intact. He managed to get to his knees, all the while mumbling about finishing the race and apparently speaking to someone named Junior. At a nod from Glorfindel, the Twins helped Alex to his feet, steadying him.

"... Race... finish....I’m getting up, okay?... Screw you, Junior...."

"All right, Alex," Glorfindel said, taking the Mortal’s head in his hands, forcing him to make eye contact. "You can finish the race, I promise." He looked around, trying to gauge where they were in relation to where the trail was. Elladan pointed to the left.

"If we follow this cut here, it’ll put us back on the trail," he said.

Glorfindel nodded. "Go ahead of us and remove any obstacles. Roy and I will stay with Alex."

"Amroth will be coming with rope and a stretcher," Elrohir pointed out. "Should we not wait for him?"

"Can you climb back up?" Glorfindel asked. "This hill will block a signal from the walkie-talkies. See if you can contact Amroth and let him know what’s going on. Then follow us. I have a feeling Alex will need all three of us before the end."

Elrohir nodded and swiftly headed back up the hill. All the while, Alex was standing there, swaying, seeing nothing, mumbling to himself, trying to move out of Glorfindel’s hold. Elladan came loping back. "The path is clear and the trail is only about a few hundred feet from here."

"Good. Take his other arm and let’s go. Yes, Alex, we’ll finish the race. That’s it... left foot, right foot. You’re doing just fine."

It was a nightmare. Glorfindel watched with grim despair as Alex struggled through the snow, determined to finish a race that had long ended. His pace was slow and awkward and the Elf knew the Mortal was in a great deal of pain. A part of him admired the young Man for his grit and determination; another part, a much larger part, wanted to bodily pick Alex up and haul him back to the lodge, but he knew that he couldn’t. For some reason, Alex needed to finish this race. He wondered who ‘Junior’ was.

He glanced back to see Elrohir approaching. "It’s getting on toward sunset. At this rate, Alex is not going to be able to see where he’s going before he reaches the finish line."

"I’ll go ahead and arrange for torches to light the way," Elrohir said and he loped off ahead of them, quickly disappearing from view.

"You’re doing great, Alex," Elladan said encouragingly. "Keep it up. You’re almost home."

Alex only nodded and kept going, his expression set. He pushed their hands away, determined to walk on his own. Twice he stumbled and only the quick reflexes of the Elves prevented him from falling on his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, freezing almost at once so that he was constantly rubbing his eyes to see.

And all the while, he kept up a litany to himself: "Finish… race… finish… Go to hell, Junior… Finish…."

It was heart-wrenching to watch. Slowly, ever so slowly they made their way along the trail. At one point, Elladan had to steer Alex in the right direction, for the trail curved and Alex was simply moving in a straight line. The sky darkened towards twilight and when Glorfindel happened to look up from watching Alex struggling along, he saw in the distance pinpoints of flame where tiki torches had been set up on either side of the trail leading to the finish line. He grabbed Alex’s arm and pointed.

"Look, Alex! See the torches? You’re almost home. You’re doing great."

Alex merely nodded as he plodded along. Then, Glorfindel noticed a rather remarkable thing: on either side of the trail were lined up the other students cheering Alex on, clapping and whistling as Alex passed them and at the other end, waiting for them was Derek and four others whom Glorfindel recognized and assumed were Alex’s teammates for the snowshoe race. Vorondur stood beside them along with Amroth and all the other Elves.

"You’re almost there, Alex," Elladan said to him encouragingly. "You’re going to make it."

And he did, stumbling at the last minute right into Nathan’s arms, while everyone else cheered.

"Let’s get these shoes off him," Glorfindel commanded as he knelt in the snow to remove one of the snowshoes, "and let’s get some blankets for him."

Alex, meanwhile, was weeping, holding onto Nathan while Carla, Shafali and Leanne knelt around them, awkwardly patting him. "I’m s-s-sorry, I’m sorry," he kept repeating.

"Why are you sorry?" Nathan asked. "You made it."

Alex shook his head. "I didn’t win," he almost wailed and began weeping even harder. Nathan looked around helplessly, not sure how to respond, but Derek saved him the trouble by motioning for Nathan to relinquish his hold on Alex so now he was half-lying in Derek’s arms.

"No, gwador," Derek said, gently rocking him. "You won the most important race of all. You didn’t give up. We’re all very proud of you."

"E-even Junior?" Alex asked and Derek gave Glorfindel an enquiring look but the Elf-lord merely shrugged.

"Yes, even Junior," Derek finally said, and that seemed to be all the reassurance Alex needed, for his tears subsided and he allowed himself to be wrapped in several blankets.

"We’re going to take you to the lodge, Alex," Glorfindel said, readjusting the blankets so they covered him. "I want Dan and Roy to check you over and then we’ll see about getting you back to the college."

Alex merely nodded and allowed Amroth to lift him up and carry him while everyone else followed.

47: Return

At the lodge, Marty, the thirty-something owner, showed Amroth to one of the first floor bed suites where he and Elladan quickly stripped Alex of his clothes and helped him into the shower which Elrohir had running. Amroth stripped as well and joined him, holding Alex up while he stood there, letting the hot water ease his aches and pains. He was a mass of cuts and bruises and when they brought him back out of the bathroom, Glorfindel, who had followed them into the suite but had kept out of their way, bit back a gasp of dismay at the sight. Alex seemingly paid little attention, allowing the Elves to help him redress after Elladan rubbed some liniment given to him by the lodge owner over the worst of the bruises while Elrohir dealt with the cuts.

"He’s definitely concussed," Elladan said as he ran a comb, courtesy of the lodge, through Alex’s wet hair, "and I don’t think he’s entirely aware of his surroundings."

"We should get him back to Wiseman and to the clinic or St. Luke’s," Glorfindel said. "He probably should be x-rayed."

"Right now, I want to see about getting some food down him," Elrohir said. "It’s a long drive back and I want him to be as comfortable as possible."

"Should we contact med-evac and have him flown back?" Amroth asked.

"Let’s wait and see," Elrohir answered. "If he’s not responsive in the next hour, we’ll have him flown to St. Luke’s." He turned his attention to Alex, placing his hands on either side of the Man’s head. "Alex, Alex." Slowly, too slowly to Glorfindel’s way of thinking, the Mortal’s eyes focused on Elrohir. "Would you like something to eat?"

"Yes." The voice was whisper thin and he spoke in a monotone.

"Then let’s go to the dining room." He helped Alex to stand.

"Derek?" Alex asked.

"Derek is waiting for you," Elrohir assured him.

The Mortal gave a ghost of a smile. "Gwador," he said and all four Elves gave him smiles of approval.

"Yes, Alex. Derek is your gwador and you are his," Elladan said. "So, let’s show your gwador that you are not at death’s door."

"Tired."

"I know, but we’ll feed you first and then you can rest, okay?" Elrohir said as he helped him to the door and Alex nodded ever so slightly.

They moved down the hall and Glorfindel was glad to see that someone had made sure it was empty. He had no doubt that the other Elves and Mortal instructors were keeping the rest of the students busy with supper. As they reached the lodge’s central foyer with its river stone fireplace dominating one wall, they found Derek, Nathan, Carla, Shafali and Leanne sitting anxiously by the fireplace, along with Ron and Holly who were softly speaking to them. They all looked up, their troubled expressions mutating to near joy at the sight of Alex walking carefully between the Twins. Derek leapt from his chair and came over to give Alex a light hug.

Alex smiled at him. "Did you win?" he asked.

Derek shook his head. "Nah, we came in third, but that’s okay. I just had fun."

"More fun than me," Alex said and Derek hugged him again.

"Why don’t we go to the dining room and see if we can get some supper?" Amroth suggested. "I don’t know about any of you, but I’m starved."

"I don’t think Alex should have any of the chili that’s been made, though," Vorondur said with a sympathetic smile. "I think a bowl of broth is in order."

Alex grimaced. "I so hate beef broth."

The others laughed. "If you can keep the broth down perhaps you can try some of the chili," Vorondur said, "but I would advise against it and I’m sure Roy and Dan would say the same."

"Soft foods for at least a day," Elrohir said with a nod.

"Well, let’s not stand here talking about it," Glorfindel said and they all made their way toward the dining room. On the way, they were met by Marty, who had taken over the lodge from his parents the year before when they retired to Florida. He gave them an anxious look.

"How’s he doing?"

"Better," Glorfindel assured him as everyone but Vorondur continued on to the dining room. "We’re going to see if we can get some broth down him before we determine if he should be flown back to Wiseman or if he can stand the bus ride."

"He’s welcome to stay the night here if necessary," Marty said, "and anyone else who you think should stay with him."

"That may not be a bad idea," Vorondur said, joining the conversation. "Why don’t we see how he does in the next hour before we make any real decision? We’ll be sending everyone else back around then anyway."

"Just let me know," Marty said, "and don’t worry. Everything’s on me. I’ll go tell the kitchen to warm up some broth and if there’s anything else you need, just let me know."

"Thanks, Marty. We appreciate it," Glorfindel said and he and Vorondur joined the others in the dining room.

They were congregated at a table near the fireplace, a smaller version of the one in the foyer. One of the kitchen staff was already there, handing out glasses of water, leaving a full pitcher on the table. Elrohir was urging Alex to drink the water while Elladan was giving the waitress their order.

"I can have someone bring up some chili for the rest of you," she said and they all nodded.

As Glorfindel and Vorondur joined them, they heard Alex speaking to Nathan and the young women.

"I’m sorry I lost us the race."

"We’re just glad you’re not seriously hurt or worse," Nathan spoke for them all. "There’ll be other races, I’m sure."

"Why is everything bad happening to me?" Alex asked no one in particular.

"What do you mean, son?" Amroth asked.

"I just don’t get sick with that stupid bug, I get really sick and then I end up losing the race because I was too stupid to watch where I was going. It’s like I’m cursed or something."

"I doubt that you’re cursed," Amroth said with an amused look. "You’re just experiencing a streak of bad luck. It happens to us all, but it’s not a conspiracy to make your life miserable. Right now, I suspect you’re feeling a bit fragile and you’re bound to have a negative view of things. I think we should get you back to the Academy and into bed. A good night’s rest should help."

"I agree," Vorondur said. "Ah… here’s dinner. Now, if you can handle the broth, we’ll move on to poached eggs if you’re still hungry."

Alex sighed and the others gave him sympathetic looks as they dug into their chili while Alex sipped on the broth. Elrohir allowed him to have some hot chocolate as well, but also encouraged him to drink more water.

"I’m going to be floating home if I have any more," Alex protested, but he dutifully drank the glass and then asked for more. It did not escape Glorfindel’s notice that the Twins and Vorondur exchanged knowing looks.

They continued eating in silence. Alex seemed to lapse into a dazed state after he finished the broth. When Elladan asked him if he was still hungry, he shook his head. "Tired," he said, and blinked his eyes several times, as if trying to keep awake.

"I think it would be wise for Alex to ride home with us," Vorondur suggested. "I don’t think he should ride the bus."

"Not alone," Alex said, seemingly rousing from his state.

"You won’t be alone, Alex," Amroth assured him. "You can ride with Loren and me and I think either Dan or Roy should accompany us."

"No, not alone," Alex repeated.

Everyone exchanged puzzled looks, unsure what he meant, and then Vorondur’s expression cleared. "Do you mean you want Derek to ride with you?" he asked.

Alex nodded. "Not alone," he repeated, as if that explained everything and perhaps, for him, it did, Glorfindel mused. Perhaps Alex simply didn’t want to be the lone Mortal among the Elves.

"Then, Derek will ride with us," he said.

"No problem," Derek said with a nod.

Alex leaned against Derek’s shoulder and Glorfindel was dismayed to see the young Man weeping. "I d-don’t want to b-be alone," he stuttered through his tears and Derek wrapped an arm around him very gently, mindful of his bruises.

"Shhh... It’s okay, gwador. You won’t be alone, I promise. Hush now and dry those tears. You don’t want Carla, Shafali and Leanne to think you’re a wimp now, do you?"

"Huh, speak for yourself, sailor," Shafali said with a sniff. "I like my men all weepy and emotional. The strong, silent type is so Neanderthal."

Derek and Nathan rolled their eyes at one another as the other two co-eds giggled. The Elves smiled at the byplay. Glorfindel was glad to see Alex smiling a bit as well as he wiped the tears from his eyes, but he also noticed that the Man was in no hurry to leave Derek’s embrace and he seemed to sag, as if all the strength had left him.

"I think we should consider getting Alex back now," he said. "I can pull down some of the seats in my van and we can make a bed for him. Holly, you want to find Daeron and tell him we’re leaving? He can supervise the return of the other students. Nathan, Shafali, Leanne, Carla, you should go with her and thank you. I’m sure Alex appreciates that you don’t hate him for not winning the race."

He turned to Alex, thinking to see him nodding in agreement, but he appeared to have fallen asleep. He frowned, not sure if that was a good sign or not.

The four Mortals, meanwhile, were getting up to follow Holly out, casting concerned looks Alex’s way. "Don’t worry," Elrohir told them. "We’ll see him safely back to the Academy."

"I’ll go warm up the van and get it set," Glorfindel said as he, too, stood up. "Ask Marty for a loan of blankets and a couple of pillows. I’ll bring the van around to the front."

"We’ll wait in the foyer," Vorondur said. "How many can you fit in the van with Alex taking up half the seats as a bed?"

"Well, Derek has to ride with me, but I would like to have at least one of you with us as well in case Alex needs medical assistance. We could probably squeeze another person in but it would be very uncomfortable."

"Hmm... I feel uneasy about just having one of us on hand," Vorondur said with a frown. "Amroth, you want to follow Loren? Let Roy ride with Alex and Dan and I will ride with you and Della."

Amroth nodded. "I’ll go find my wife and tell Daeron who’s going with us. The others can supervise getting the rest of the students back to Wiseman."

"I’ll check with Marty," Elrohir said and he, Glorfindel and Amroth went out, leaving Vorondur and Elladan with Derek and Alex.

"Let’s get him to the foyer," Vorondur said as he gently roused the young Man from his stupor, helping him to stand with Derek by his side. Slowly, they made their way into the foyer where they saw Marty handing Elrohir a pile of soft fleece-lined blankets and a couple of pillows.

"Now, if you need anything else, just let me know," they heard the Man say. "And tell Alex not to worry about medical bills, if there are any. I’ll cover them, seeing as how the accident happened here."

"You’re a good person, Marty," Elrohir said. "I know Alex has insurance, so don’t worry about it. I would advise that you close that trail for now, though. We’re just lucky that only one person was caught in the avalanche."

"I’ve already instructed my people to put up warning tapes," Marty said. "This much snow coming all at once is unusual for this time of year and with the temperatures warming back up, there’re a lot more chances of avalanches. Ah... I think that’s your ride." He pointed toward the front door and they all saw Glorfindel pulling up with his van. Another car came up behind it and they could see Amroth at the wheel.

Vorondur and Elladan helped Alex into his coat, which had been retrieved from the suite while Elrohir went out with Marty to put together the bed for Alex. When they were all set, Marty came back in to let them know they were ready for them and Vorondur and Elladan helped Alex out and settled into the van, where they found that half the blankets had been laid out to create a mattress. Once they had Alex settled, wrapped in the other blankets, Derek climbed in to sit beside him while Elrohir joined Glorfindel in the front.

"We’ll be right behind you," Vorondur told them. "I would advise driving as slowly as you can until you get to the main highway so as not to jar him too much."

Glorfindel nodded and then they were off.

****

The ride was done in virtual silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Looking through the back window, Derek could see Amroth’s car trailing them. Alex seemed to be sleeping, but every once in a while, his eyes opened and he became agitated until Derek leaned over him, brushing a hand through his hair.

"I’m right here," he would say quietly and Alex would lapse into sleep once again, only to waken anxious several minutes later.

"How’s he doing?" Elrohir asked quietly, looking back at Derek.

"He keeps waking up all anxious until he sees me and then he calms down," Derek replied. "Why is he so afraid to be alone with you guys?"

"Does it really matter?" Elrohir retorted mildly. "Is it not enough that he feels the need to have you near, to draw comfort from your presence?"

Derek just nodded and they lapsed back into silence.

They were about halfway to Wiseman when they ran into trouble. Alex suddenly woke gagging, struggling to sit up.

"Daro!" Elrohir ordered, even as he was undoing his seatbelt.

Glorfindel pulled immediately over and killed the engine while Derek was trying to get out of Elrohir’s way as he climbed over the seats to reach Alex.

"Open the door," he commanded and Derek pulled the side-door open and stepped down then turned to help Elrohir with Alex who was valiantly trying not to be sick in the van. They were just in time. No sooner did Alex’s feet hit the ground than he doubled over and Derek had just enough time to step back before Alex could vomit all over him. Meanwhile, Amroth had brought his car to a halt and Elladan and Vorondur jumped out and headed their way. The three Elves held a hasty conversation in Sindarin, speaking too rapidly for Derek to follow. Glorfindel, he noticed, never got out and never looked at them, keeping his eyes straight ahead, his hands clenching the wheel. After about five minutes, the vomiting ceased. Derek handed Alex a water bottle and he rinsed his mouth while all three Elves placed their hands on his head and crooned something soft and musical.

"Let’s get him back in," Elrohir said after a minute, and they quickly and competently bundled Alex back into the van and got him settled. Derek took the time to cover the mess with snow before climbing in. "We’ll go straight to St. Luke’s," he heard Elrohir inform his brother, who nodded.

"We’ll meet you there. I think it would be wise for us to drive ahead and alert the staff that you’re bringing in an avalanche victim," Elladan said.

"I’ll ride with you," Vorondur said and while Elladan returned to Amroth’s car, he proceeded to climb into the van next to Derek, who scrunched over to give him room. The Elf gave him a smile. "I know it’s a bit crowded but we’re not that far from Wiseman."

"No problem. I could use the company," Derek said, giving him a sardonic smile. "Alex isn’t much of a conversationalist."

Elrohir climbed back into his seat and nodded to Glorfindel. "We’re all set."

Glorfindel just nodded and started up the van, pulling back out onto the road. Amroth had already done so and was speeding northward towards Wiseman, disappearing over a hill. For the longest time, silence reigned in the van. Alex remained sleeping and did not rouse, much to Derek’s relief. He turned to Vorondur. "He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?"

"Yes. We just need to get him to the hospital and get some x-rays to make sure. I think sleep is the best medicine for him at this point."

"He really seemed so out of it, as if he wasn’t always here, if you know what I mean."

"I’d like to know who this Junior is he kept talking to when he was attempting to finish the race," Elrohir said, joining their conversation.

"Obviously someone important to him," Vorondur commented.

"Wiseman, three miles," Glorfindel said, speaking for the first time since they had left the resort, turning left at the junction.

"I’m going to call Dan now that we’re so close and let him know we’re almost there," Elrohir said, fishing out his cell phone and speed dialing a number. A few seconds later he was speaking into it in Sindarin. A moment later he shut the phone down. "They’re standing by. We’re to bring him directly to the Urgent Care entrance."

Glorfindel nodded as he maneuvered the van through the sparse traffic, heading for the hospital. Even as they were pulling up to the entrance of the Urgent Care facility, several people poured out of the building with a stretcher. Vorondur was opening the side door almost before Glorfindel pulled to a stop and was quickly directing the staff with a competence that told Derek that the Elf had done this many times before. He wondered just what Vorondur had done in his life before coming to Wiseman. Elrohir and Elladan were attempting to inform a young man who appeared to be the resident in charge about Alex’s condition but the doctor waved them off as he began issuing his own orders as they were bringing Alex in. Glorfindel had climbed out of the van and was following them into the hospital. Derek trailed behind everyone else, feeling superfluous.

"...should have had him flown in," he heard the resident castigate the Twins as he entered the building. "Of all the incompetent...."

"He appeared to be recovering," Elladan said stiffly. "It was our opinion...."

"And are you a doctor?" the Mortal shot back with a supercilious sneer. "From what medical school did you learn your trade? Witchdoctor U?"

Both Twins narrowed their eyes in almost the same feral expression and Derek had the uncanny feeling that they were about to go into battle against the arrogant resident but Glorfindel beat them to it. He grabbed the doctor by the lapels of his lab coat. "You dare!" he practically screamed. "You dare insult the sons of the most gifted healer this world ever saw? What’s your name?" He glanced at the Man’s name tag. "Stoner? I’d like to stone you and then feed you to the orcs one piece at a time, you insolent puppy. How dare you—"

Everyone else in the waiting room had simply stopped and stared in shock at the confrontation. Derek noticed a couple of security guards heading their way. The Twins had stepped back, apparently knowing better than to interfere. Amroth and Della were both frowning. Only Vorondur, Derek noticed, seemed unfazed. He was at the reception desk, speaking to one of the nurses who handed him a pad on which he scribbled something and then tore the page off. He sauntered over to where Glorfindel was still castigating the resident and shoved the piece of paper between them. Glorfindel stopped his ranting to stare at it, letting the Man go.

"What’s this?" he asked, taking the proffered paper from Vorondur and reading it. Derek saw his eyes widening in surprise and then he glared at Vorondur who stood there calmly. "Valium?" Glorfindel demanded. "You’re prescribing valium? To me? What the....?"

"Captain!" Elrohir suddenly shouted and when Glorfindel turned, to Derek’s everlasting surprise, the young Elf hauled off and landed his fist square on Glorfindel’s jaw before the Elf-lord had time to react, knocking him unconscious. Vorondur caught him before he went all the way down, giving Elrohir an amused look.

"I think the valium would’ve been better," he said as he lifted the unconscious Elf into his arms as easily as if he were holding a child and then handed him over to Amroth.

Elrohir returned his smile. "But my way was quicker and you would’ve had to hogtie him to get the valium down him."

"He’s going to make your life miserable when he wakes up, little brother," Elladan said with a laugh and Elrohir merely shrugged, apparently unconcerned. "Should we take him home or find him a room here?"

Stoner then entered the conversation, his expression one of anger and insult. "That lunatic should be locked up. How dare he assault me."

"He’s been under a great deal of strain lately," Vorondur said soothingly. "Now I suggest you go look in on your patient and you leave us to deal with our friend."

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?"

"Doctor Stoner."

They all turned to see an older man walking towards them. "You owe Dr. Brightman an apology for your rudeness and another to the Drs. Ronaldson. Then I suggest you go home. I’ll take over for you."

Stoner just stood there gaping. "Doctor? These are doctors?"

"Dr. Brightman is one of the nation’s top psychiatrists and the Drs. Ronaldson were practicing the healing arts while you were still teething and making messes in your diapers," the older Man said mildly. "Now, off you go." It was a dismissal and the resident knew it. Casting a dark look at them all, he stalked off in high dudgeon. The older doctor turned to them and Derek could see his name tag read ‘G. Harris’.

"Hello, Ron," Dr. Harris said, holding out his hand which the Elf shook.

"Geoffrey," Vorondur said. "Good to see you again."

"Dan, Roy, you want to fill me in on what happened? Avalanche I understand."

Both Twins nodded. "What should we do about Loren?" Elladan asked.

Dr. Harris gave them an amused look. "I’ll have one of the nurses find him a bed. I think we’ll keep him here for a while."

"Put him in with Alex when you’re done examining him," Vorondur suggested with a sly grin.

Harris simply nodded, motioning to the Twins to follow him. "So tell me exactly what happened...."

A few minutes later, orderlies came with a stretcher and they put Glorfindel in it and headed off with Vorondur trailing them, leaving Derek alone with Amroth and Della, the three of them finding seats, settling in to wait for news on Alex.

****

Daro!: (Sindarin) 'Stop!'

48: Recovery

Glorfindel came to, wondering why his jaw hurt and why he had his eyes closed. It took him several seconds to recognize the fact that he was lying in a hospital bed, though thankfully not dressed in a hospital gown. Someone had removed his shoes and the windbreaker he had been wearing as a concession to the Mortals, but otherwise he was fully dressed. He struggled to sit up, rubbing his jaw with one hand, trying to piece his memory together. Looking about, he saw another bed and realized that Alex was in it, his head bandaged. He climbed out of the bed and stumbled over to the sleeping Mortal, hooked up to several monitors quietly beeping away, and stared at him, slowly reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, as if to assure himself that he was real.

"He’ll recover."

Glorfindel gasped and turned to see the last person he expected to find standing in the middle of a hospital room and without conscious thought actually backed away until a wall prevented him from going any further.

Manwë, Elder King of Arda, watched in amusement as the Elf stood there gaping at him.

"What? No word of welcome? Not even a ‘Hi Manny, long time no see’?" the Vala asked, his eyes glittering with barely suppressed amusement and Glorfindel flinched at the soundless impression of laughter ringing through his mind, recognizing it as belonging to Lord Námo. Manwë’s smile broadened and he gestured for Glorfindel to approach. "Come here, son. I don’t bite. Let’s take a little walk."

Glorfindel hesitated for a moment and then straightened and came toward the Elder King but stopped before he reached him, glancing at Alex still sleeping.

"He will be well," Manwë said gently, casting a fond look at the sleeping Mortal. "There was swelling on his brain from the blow he experienced. It’s been relieved. The sons of Elrond have been here and gone, using their healing skills to help him recover sooner and I had Estë lend them a hand, though they were unaware of it. Now, why don’t we let him sleep in peace while we talk." He held out his hand and Glorfindel reluctantly took it and was not surprised to see reality shifting until they found themselves standing in a starlit alpine meadow and the night breeze was warm. All around he could feel life stirring and realized that they had somehow stepped from early autumn to early spring.

Glancing around, he did not recognize the place at all and gave the Vala a puzzled look. Manwë smiled. "We’re still in Arda, if that’s what you’re wondering. This is New Zealand."

"We never got to the southern hemisphere," Glorfindel said bemusedly. "Not sure why."

"Well, now you can say you have," Manwë retorted with a grin. "Why don’t you remove your socks and take a walk."

"Walk where?"

"Anywhere you like, son," Manwë said. "And when you’re ready, just come back and we’ll talk."

Not knowing what else to do, Glorfindel did as the Elder King bid, removing his socks and stuffing them in his pockets. He headed away, taking no particular direction, simply breathing in the fresh mountain air and reveling in the feel of the soft earth under his feet. He let the stars bathe him with their light and at one point found himself lying on his back, allowing the earth’s deep tranquility to seep into his soul even as he half-listened to the stars singing, somehow keeping time with the chirping of unseen crickets. He thought he might even have fallen asleep for a while, for he slowly came back to himself, feeling refreshed and grounded as he hadn’t felt since before the storm and everything that had followed. He sat up and looked around and saw Manwë still standing where he’d left him. Rising, he made his way back to the Elder King who gave him a benign smile.

"Feeling better?" the Vala asked.

Glorfindel could only nod.

"You’ve been under a great deal of strain lately," Manwë stated, "and understandably so, but your actions in the hospital earlier were uncalled for." And as mildly as the Vala spoke, there was a definite undertone of reproof and disapproval that made Glorfindel blush in chagrin.

"He was an arrogant...."

"Whatever his failings, he did not deserve your wrath and his superiors are in a better position to reprimand him than you. Your assaulting him only made a tense situation worse. You made an enemy tonight, son, where you should have made an ally or at least an unfriend. You and your people are in too precarious a situation right now to risk turning any Mortal from your cause."

"There are already people...."

"Yes, we know, and there is very little you or I can do about it. But you had an opportunity to do something in this case."

"What?" Glorfindel asked in genuine confusion.

"You could have simply kept your mouth shut and your temper under control," Manwë retorted sharply. "Vorondur and the Elrondionath could have and should have been the ones to handle young Stoner. You threatening him...." Manwë shook his head. "Well, it’s done and cannot be undone, but I would warn you, my son, to keep a firmer grip on your temper among the Mortals. They are not balrogs or even orcs. They are Eruhíni no less than you. How do you think Finrod would have handled this situation?"

Glorfindel shrugged, his eyes downcast. "He would probably have laughed in Stoner’s face."

"Thereby confusing the poor child even more than he already is," Manwë said with a chuckle. "But you see, there were other options. Now, why don’t we return? Young Artemus is waking and it’s best he does not wake alone."

"Where are the others?" Glorfindel asked.

"Young Derek is sleeping in the waiting room with Amroth and Vorondur keeping watch. Elrond’s sons are in the hospital cafeteria getting some rather wretched coffee for them all and Nimrodel has returned to Edhellond to inform the others of what has happened. Your students are safely back at the Academy, most of them sound asleep. So, if you’re ready?"

Glorfindel nodded and held out his hand for the Elder King to grasp and then reality shifted once again and they were back in the room with Alex who was just beginning to stir. Glorfindel quickly put his socks on against the coldness of the floor and then stood by Alex’s bed, turning on the bed light. The Mortal involuntarily flinched even with his eyes closed and then he was blinking them open, staring sightlessly for a few seconds until his eyes focused. He moaned slightly and reached up to touch the bandages on his head and Glorfindel could see the panic in his eyes.

"My head... what....?"

"It’s alright, Alex," Glorfindel said soothingly, reaching out to pull Alex’s arm down. "You’re going to be just fine."

But Alex either did not or would not listen to Glorfindel’s words, for he started thrashing about, his voice rising in near hysteria even as Glorfindel attempted to soothe him. "My head... what happened to my head? Where am I? What’s happened to me? Where’s my mom? I want...."

The monitors started going wild. "Alex, calm down. It’s going to be alright. Please, Alex." Glorfindel tried to hold the Mortal down as he attempted to sit up. Then the door opened and someone came in.

"Here now. What’s all this?"

Glorfindel looked up to see an older Mortal entering the room, recognizing him. "He just woke up, Geoff," he told the doctor, "and started thrashing. I can’t get him to calm down."

Dr. Geoffrey Harris nodded as he reached out and placed his hands on either side of Alex’s head. "Young man," he said in a commanding voice, "stop that at once. There’s no need to panic."

To Glorfindel’s amazement Alex stopped thrashing and looked up at the doctor whose expression had become compassionate. "M-my head...." Alex whimpered, reaching up with the hand that was free of IVs. Harris released his hold on Alex’s head and gently pulled the hand away from the bandages.

"You had some swelling on the brain from the blow you received," Harris said gently, "which is why, I suspect, you were feeling nauseous and disoriented, hmm?"

Alex nodded slightly.

"Yes, well, your friends got you here in time and we were able to relieve the swelling," Harris continued. "I’m afraid we had to shave your head, but your hair will grow back."

"My hair?" Alex asked bleakly, tears beginning to form.

"Yes, son, but as I said, it’ll grow back. In the meantime, I’ll get you a knit hat to wear. We have a cadre of little old ladies happily knitting them for our cancer patients. What’s your favorite color?"

"Blue," Alex answered almost automatically.

Harris nodded. "And can you tell me your name?"

"Which one?" Alex retorted weakly.

Harris merely raised an eyebrow. "Which is your favorite?" he asked.

"Alex," the Mortal answered, his eyes beginning to glaze over and his speech becoming somewhat incoherent, "I like Alex. I don’t like Artemus anymore. He’s too bad. I don’t want to be bad. Junior was bad. I had to kill Junior. He... I don’t want to be like Junior. Can I be Alex?"

Harris glanced at Glorfindel, giving him a knowing look before turning back to Alex, patting him on the arm in a rather grandfatherly manner. "You can be whoever you want to be, son. Now why don’t you go back to sleep. That’s it. All is well. Sleep."

Glorfindel watched as Alex struggled to keep awake, the Mortal fighting the urge to close his eyes. "Derek... I want to see...."

But he never finished the sentence, slipping back into unconsciousness, sighing deeply as sleep took him. Harris, in the meantime, was checking the young Man’s pulse, nodding in satisfaction as he then checked the IV, adjusting its flow slightly. Only then did he turn to face Glorfindel and started to speak to him, but Lord Manwë, who had remained still while the doctor dealt with Alex, stepped forward out of the shadows. If Harris was surprised he gave no indication.

"Lord Manwë," he said with a nod of his head, "and how are things in Valinor?"

Manwë smiled. "Just fine, Geoffrey. I am glad to see you doing well."

Glorfindel stared at them. "You know Lord Manwë?!" he asked Harris in bewilderment. "How do you know Lord Manwë?"

Both Harris and the Elder King chuckled, but it was Harris who answered. "Well, my Lord Glorfindel, while you’ve been busy training your soldiers for the Dagor Dagorath, I’ve been working at training my people, as well. Lord Manwë came to me, asking that I set up a training program for the medical personnel in preparation for expected casualties of the war."

"But it may never come in your lifetime," Glorfindel protested.

Harris nodded. "Most likely not, but I am grooming those who will take over for me when I am gone, so there will always be someone at St. Luke’s to handle the training over the years. Whenever this war comes, we’ll be ready, or as ready as anyone can possibly be in such a situation."

Glorfindel turned to Manwë, his expression becoming unreadable. "And you never thought to tell me, to let me know, so that I could coordinate things with Dr. Harris?"

"You would’ve been told eventually," Manwë said mildly. "This program is very recent and Geoffrey has barely started it."

"Indeed," Harris said. "I was planning to inform you after this term was over. I know you have too much to deal with while the Academy is in session."

"And how is your training going?" Manwë asked. "Have you found any likely candidates to take over for you when necessary?"

Glorfindel saw Harris raise an eyebrow at the Vala and suspected the question was more for his benefit than for the Elder King. Harris’ expression became wry. "Actually, Lord Glorfindel met him earlier, threatening to thrash him for his insolence."

"Stoner?!" Glorfindel exclaimed. "Stoner is your...." He stopped, too shocked to be able to speak further, glancing at Manwë, as if to see if this was all a joke, but Manwë’s expression, while compassionate, was also quite firm as he gave Glorfindel a nod.

"You have a great deal of fence-mending to do, my son," the Elder King said and then simply faded away without another word.

Glorfindel just stood there, his mouth gaping, staring at the space where the Vala had been. He started when he felt a hand on his arm and looked into Harris’ concerned face. "I wouldn’t be too worried Loren. Kyle Stoner is an able trauma doctor, one of the best I’ve seen in years, but he does have an arrogant streak in him that I hope time and experience will soften."

"He said I’d made an enemy tonight," Glorfindel retorted.

Harris shrugged. "Maybe yes, maybe no. I’ll be giving that young pup a formal dressing down later and he will tender apologies to you all. That will be your opportunity to make your own amends. Kyle is my choice as my successor whether you approve of it or not. You both will need to learn to live with each other. Best to start now."

"As if I don’t have enough to contend with," Glorfindel groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"I’m sure you’ll manage, my lord." He stressed the title and Glorfindel straightened and gave the Mortal a nod.

"Yes, I’m sure I will. How soon will Alex be released?"

"If there are no further complications, we can release him by Saturday or Sunday at the latest. Dan and Roy said they can put him into healing sleep once he came out of the drug-induced coma we put him in."

"Lord Manwë said they were still here," Glorfindel said, "along with Ron and Ryan."

Harris nodded. "Yes. I came here to check on Mr. Grant, to see if he was awake. Now I’ll go hunt up Dan and Roy and let them know. Since there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re free to leave anytime."

Glorfindel nodded. "I’ll just put on my shoes."

"You’ll find them under the bed," Harris said. Glorfindel reached down and picked up his shoes, slipping them on. Harris went to one of the lockers where patients could hang their clothes and drew out Glorfindel’s windbreaker, handing it to him. "I’m concerned about Mr. Grant’s, shall we say, identity issues, based on his response to my question about his name."

"Ron is counseling him about that," Glorfindel said evasively. "It’s not a multiple personality disorder or anything and he’s not a threat to others."

"Well, I’ll leave that in Ron’s capable hands, then," Harris said as he gestured for Glorfindel to exit the room. He led the way down a hall to the waiting room where they found the others. Derek, Glorfindel noticed, was groggily sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Elrohir handed him a styrofoam cup. Vorondur was the first to see them approach, giving Glorfindel an amused smile.

"If you didn’t outrank me, I would insist you attend some of my anger management classes," he said by way of greeting. Glorfindel just rolled his eyes while everyone else snickered.

"How’s Alex?" Derek asked, grimacing at the cup in his hand as he swallowed some coffee. "Can I see him?"

"He’s sleeping," Harris answered, "though he woke briefly a while ago." He turned to the Twins. "If you want to put him into healing sleep now, go ahead."

Elladan nodded. "How long do you want him in healing sleep?"

"As long as you can safely keep him," Harris replied. "I rely on your superior judgment in that."

"We’ll keep him under until Saturday, then," Elladan said and Elrohir nodded.

"If there are no further complications, I can release him on Sunday," Harris said.

The Twins nodded and set off for Alex’s room as Harris addressed the others. "I suggest you all go home and get some rest. Mr. Grant isn’t going anywhere. If there’s any change in his condition, I’ll let you know. Ron, if you, Loren and the Twins would come back tomorrow at your convenience, I’ll have Dr. Stoner give you all a proper apology."

"It’s not really necessary," Vorondur said.

"Oh, but it is, for all our sakes. Loren will explain," Harris said. "Now, I still have other patients to see, so I’ll bid you all a good-night." He gave them a short bow of his head and left, stopping at the reception desk to consult with the nurses there, leaving them to their own devices. Amroth was the first to stir.

"I’ll see Derek back to the college," he said, addressing Glorfindel. "We moved your van to the visitor’s parking lot."

Glorfindel nodded. "We’ll wait for Dan and Roy."

"Come along, Derek. Let’s get you home," Amroth said.

"I’d rather stay here," Derek protested.

"No," Glorfindel said firmly. "You go with Amroth and get some sleep. You still have classes tomorrow and Alex won’t awaken until sometime Saturday anyway. You can come back here when we bring him out of healing sleep. Off you go now."

He shooed the Mortal out of his seat and Amroth took him by the arm, leading him out of the building. Vorondur gave Glorfindel an amused look. "Well, while we’re waiting for the Twins, why don’t we sit and talk about your anger."

Glorfindel sighed, recognizing the Elf’s tone and nodded.

****

When they brought Alex out of healing sleep Saturday morning, Derek was there along with Glorfindel, Vorondur, Amroth and the Twins. Dr. Harris was also there, as was Dr. Stoner. The meeting between Stoner and the Elves the day before had been awkward, but the younger doctor, now suitably chastened, made his apologies to them all and Glorfindel also apologized and while it could not be said that they came away from the encounter bosom buddies, at least there was no overt hostility between them. Dr. Harris had insisted that Dr. Stoner be present and the Elves were wise enough not to argue, for they recognized that within the boundaries of St. Luke, Geoffrey Harris outranked them all.

Elrohir was the one who brought Alex out of healing sleep, softly calling his name while the two Mortal doctors kept an eye on the machines, watching Alex’s vitals. Alex slowly opened his eyes.

"That’s it, Alex. All the way," Elrohir said softly as he gently stroked Alex’s arm.

Alex blinked and frowned. "Where...?"

"You’re at St. Luke’s," Elrohir answered.

"Again?" Alex exclaimed.

The Elves and Derek chuckled. "Well, it’s your own fault for not watching where you were going," Derek said.

Alex reached up to touch the bandages on his head and Elrohir gently pulled the hand down. "We’ll probably be able to remove the bandages tomorrow," he said. "For now, leave them alone. Now, I know Dr. Harris and Dr. Stoner would like to check you over so the rest of us will step out while they do their examination. We won’t go far," he added, forestalling the panic that they could see beginning to rise in Alex’s eyes, "and as soon as they’re finished we’ll be back, okay?"

Alex nodded reluctantly. "Don’t worry, son," Harris said kindly. "This won’t take long and then your friends will rejoin you."

Everyone trooped out except the two Mortal doctors and waited silently in the hallway for the examination to be completed. Ten minutes later, Dr. Stoner stepped out, assuring them that Alex’s reflexes were all normal. "We’re going to try him on some food now and see how he does."

"Let’s hope it’s not beef broth," Derek said with a grin. "He hates it now."

Dr. Stoner actually smiled. "Well, we’ll see how he does with chicken noodle soup then," he said and then, giving them a nod, set off down the hall. Dr. Harris came out a minute later and allowed them to return to the room, warning them not to overstay their visit.

****

Sunday, only Glorfindel and Elrohir were present, along with Derek, when Dr. Harris removed Alex’s bandages. Dr. Stoner was also present, voicing his objections, saying the incision hadn’t had time to properly heal, but Dr. Harris simply dismissed him with a "We’ll see" as he removed the final layer. Glorfindel could see the young Man’s head was fully shaved, leaving only a stubble of hair. An incision ran along the top right side of Alex’s head and he could see that it was fully closed, the sutures no longer visible. Dr. Stoner just gaped but Elrohir nodded in satisfaction.

"Better than I thought," he said as he ran a deft hand over the incision that looked as if it were weeks old instead of only a couple of days.

"Lord Manwë said he would have Lady Estë look in on him," Glorfindel said, eschewing to tell the younger Elf the truth.

"How bad is it?" Alex asked anxiously as he reached up to feel for himself. "My hair...."

"Will grow back soon enough," Dr. Harris assured him. "Here. You said blue was your favorite color." He pulled out a knit hat from a deep pocket. It was a deep blue that nearly matched the color of Alex’s eyes. Harris gently put the hat on Alex’s head and then handed him a mirror so he would see himself.

"Now, I want you to keep that incision clean using a pre-surgical scrub solution that you can pick up at the pharmacy on your way out. Don’t use soap or shampoo on your head for the next week. I want to see you next Friday but if you experience any dizziness or nausea or double-vision, you are to let Loren know immediately, do you understand?"

Alex nodded.

"Good. Now, Dr. Stoner will remove the IV while I go sign the release papers. Then you can get dressed and be on your way. You’re to take it easy for the rest of the week. Attend your classes, but no phys. ed. classes until next week."

With that he left and Dr. Stoner competently removed the IV, then left as well, leaving the Elves and Derek to help Alex out of the bed to dress. Fifteen minutes later, armed with a bottle of pre-surgical scrub solution and the release papers, Derek wheeled Alex out of the hospital and headed for Loren’s van and then they were on their way back to the Academy.

49: Homecoming

When Glorfindel turned into the road leading to the Academy, he pointed out the front window of the van. "Look, Alex," he said.

Alex, who’d been sitting in the back with Derek, staring out the side window, didn’t respond. Derek shook him slightly to get his attention. "Take a look, mate," he said, pointing, and Alex dutifully craned his neck to see around the front seats and gasped.

There, hanging in front of the second floor windows above the entrance was a large sign made from a white bedsheet with the words ‘WELCOME BACK, ALEX!’ painted across it in a rainbow of colors. He looked at Derek, who was grinning.

"Why?" he asked.

Derek gave him a puzzled look. "Why not?" he retorted. "You’re a hero."

Alex leaned back in his seat. "Why?"

"Because, in spite of everything, you finished the race," Glorfindel responded from the front as he brought the van to a stop before the building. There were people waiting to greet them and students were hanging out of windows, waving. Glorfindel turned around to face the two Mortals. "Now, I told everyone not to overwhelm you and to respect your need for quiet, so try not to panic."

"I’m not a baby," Alex sniffed disdainfully.

Glorfindel and Elrohir grinned as they opened their doors and stepped out. Derek slid open the side door and jumped out, turning to give Alex a hand. At his appearance, those waiting for them immediately began applauding, calling out to Alex in greeting.

"Easy now," Derek said as Alex flinched at the sound. "Feeling okay?"

Alex nodded, reaching up to push the knit hat more firmly on his head, looking somewhat embarrassed. "There’s nothing to be ashamed of, child," Elrohir said gently, taking Alex’s elbow. "Consider it a badge of honor."

Alex said nothing, just allowed himself to be led up the steps where the other Elves and some of the Mortal instructors were there to greet them. Amroth was the only one to actually approach Alex, wrapping his arms around him.

"I bet you’re glad to be out of the hospital, aren’t you, son?" he said softly in Alex’s ear as he gave him a squeeze.

"Yes," Alex said, but did not elaborate.

Amroth stepped back, giving him a searching look. "Still feeling tired?" he asked.

"A little," Alex admitted.

"Then, we’ll get you to your room and you can lie down for a while. Grace and the kitchen staff have put together a special dinner for you, so you want to be wide awake to appreciate it."

Alex nodded and the group parted to allow him and Amroth to enter the building with Derek, Glorfindel and Elrohir right behind them. Going up the stairs was slow work, for Alex had to stop a number of times to catch his breath. No one hurried him and he was grateful for that. Students lined the halls and the stairwell, giving him smiles and thumbs-up and soft greetings. He simply nodded to them, concentrating on making it to the third floor. When they finally reached his room, his knees were rubbery and he was gasping for breath. Elrohir and Amroth deftly got him out of his clothes and between the sheets. Amroth started to remove Alex’s hat, but Alex grabbed it and held it in place and Amroth did not argue, merely giving him a sympathetic smile. Derek got him some water, which he drank avidly before sinking down into his pillow.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" Amroth asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting one of Alex’s arms, offering him some comfort.

"For everything," Alex replied and then slipped into sleep between one breath and the next.

Amroth continued sitting on the bed watching Alex sleep, a somewhat troubled look on his face. Derek nodded at him. "I’ll keep an eye on him," he said.

Elrohir handed him a piece of paper. "Call this number if you need to," he said. "Someone will come."

Derek nodded his thanks and then everyone trooped out, leaving the two Mortals to themselves.

****

Derek roused Alex about a half hour before dinner, helping him to the bathroom so he could take a shower. Alex was subdued, speaking in monotones. When they reached the cafeteria, though, he gasped in surprise. The ‘Welcome Back’ banner was now hanging across the windows and there were balloons and streamers everywhere. Most of the students were already there and started applauding as Derek led Alex to their table. Nathan, Carla, Shafali and Leanne were there to greet them, the women giving Alex shy kisses while Nathan shook his hand.

Derek told him to sit while he went and got his dinner and in a matter of minutes he was back with a tray, setting it down before him. "I’ll be right back," he said and, true to his word, he returned almost immediately with another tray, obviously for himself. As he sat, Nathan and the women left to get their own dinners. Alex looked around and frowned.

"Where are they?" he asked.

"You mean Loren and the others?" Derek responded, divining what Alex meant. When Alex nodded, he shrugged. "I think they’ve decided this would just be a... ah... Mortal affair. Do you want to see them? I can call them." He started to fish out his cell phone but Alex shook his head and picked up his fork, digging into his salad.

Nathan and the three women returned and they all concentrated on eating, though Alex didn’t eat all that much. Derek leaned over and whispered rather loudly, "If you don’t eat all your veggies up, there’s no dessert."

Alex gave him a disbelieving look while the three women giggled and Nathan grinned, but he dutifully ate some more, though he resolutely put his fork down after only a few more bites. Derek didn’t press him, for which he was grateful. He reached up to touch his hat, as if to make sure it was still there. It was an unconscious gesture, something he’d done all through dinner. If the others noticed, they did not comment. Derek and the others cleared the table and brought over some tea for Alex, for he was not allowed coffee for a few more days. All around them, others were also clearing their tables of trays and then returning to sit and there was an air of excitement that Alex couldn’t help noticing and he looked about in puzzlement, wondering what was happening.

He didn’t have to wait long. Suddenly the lights dimmed and then from out of the kitchen Grace wheeled in a large sheet cake with a single large candle that was lit and people spontaneously began singing ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow’ as she brought the cake to where Alex was sitting.

"Make a wish and blow it out," Derek said as the song ended.

"It’s not my birthday," Alex retorted.

"So what? We’re celebrating it early or late. Who cares? Now are you going to blow out the candle or do we just sit here and watch it burn down and ruin the cake?" There was much chuckling throughout the cafeteria at that.

Alex sighed then leaned over and blew out the candle to much applause and the lights came back up as Grace handed him a large knife so he could make the first cut. A couple of kitchen helpers came out with a number of other trolleys filled with cake, as well as one with a couple of large tubs of vanilla ice cream and in a short while everyone was happily indulging themselves with dessert.

"Roy says you shouldn’t plan to stay up too late," Derek told Alex as they were sitting there sipping on tea or coffee.

"I’m not feeling too sleepy yet," Alex said. "It’s not even seven."

"Well, would you like to go downstairs to the game room and play something or maybe just sit in the lounge and watch TV?" Derek suggested.

"Can we take a walk outside?" Alex asked. "I’m beginning to feel closed in for some reason. We don’t need to be out long, just long enough."

Derek gave him a dubious look but nodded. "I suppose we can do that if you bundle up. We could just go out to the quad and walk the perimeter."

"I guess that would do," Alex said with a sigh, sounding dispirited.

"Hey, how about a moonlit drive, instead?" Nathan suggested. "We’ll drive out of town and stop and look at the stars. There might even be a lightshow. They’ve been saying on the news that the increasing sunspot activity would probably mean a lot of northern lights this time of year."

Alex nodded, perking up at the idea and Derek was glad to see a spark of interest in his friend’s eyes. "That sounds like a plan," he said. "Can we all fit in the car?"

"Sure," Nathan said. "I have a van. I’ll meet you all outside, okay?"

Everyone nodded and they all got up to leave. Derek and Alex went back to their room where Derek helped Alex into his coat, finding him gloves and a scarf and then they went downstairs where Carla and Shafali were waiting for them. "Leanne’s decided not to go," Carla told them, "so it’s just us."

Just then, a van pulled up and they went outside and got in and then they were off. Nathan drove out of the campus and skirted the town, taking one of the side roads that led away from the town center, heading for the bypass to the main highway. He drove for about twenty minutes until the lights of the town were hidden and then pulled over and everyone got out. Derek helped Alex out and kept a hold on him to give him better balance for the ground was rocky and uneven. They all stepped away from the van and looked up into the night sky, looking more or less across the southern sky.

"I’ve never seen so many stars before," Shafali whispered and the others nodded, not bothering to comment.

Alex gazed up into the heavens and thought of his conversation with Daeron about Dante. "The Love that moves the sun and other stars," he muttered to himself.

"Hey, look!" Carla exclaimed, pointing north.

They all turned and gasped in concert as curtains of green and purple shimmered silently across the northern sky. They stood there mesmerized. Alex felt a sense of awe rising within him that he’d never felt before and he began to shiver at the beauty of the sight. Derek misinterpreting his reaction, drew him into a hug.

"You’re shivering. We’d better get you back to the college. If you come down with a cold or something, Loren will have our heads."

Alex suddenly felt too weary to argue and soon they were back in the van. Nathan made a U-turn and a half an hour later, they were back in their rooms. Alex settled into bed and was asleep five minutes later dreaming of the Northern Lights. Derek turned off the overhead light and, as it was too early for him to go to bed, he sat at his desk reading with just the desk lamp on so as not to disturb Alex. At one point he looked over at his sleeping roommate and saw that he was smiling in his sleep and was glad.

****

Monday morning, Alex followed Derek into their Sindarin class and went to his seat without greeting Gilvegil, who gave Derek a concerned look. The former sailor spoke to him quietly. "He’s very subdued and remote. He’ll respond to you if you speak to him directly, but otherwise, he just stays quiet, not like before. I’m worried for him."

"He had a very traumatic experience," Gilvegil said. "It may take a little time for him to feel safe enough to be easy around people again. He’s not doing archery today, is he?"

Derek shook his head. "I think I’ll have Ron visit with him," the Elf suggested. He then went to speak with Alex, giving him a sympathetic smile. "How are you holding up? Are you in any pain?"

Alex shook his head, reaching up to touch his hat, as if to assure himself that it was still there. He only took it off to take a shower, and refused to look in the mirror unless he was wearing it. "No. I’m okay," he answered, not quite looking at the Elf.

Gilvegil put a finger under Alex’s chin and lifted it, forcing the Mortal to look at him. "No, child. You are not, but you will be. You won’t be doing archery today, so I think while Derek is in class, I’ll have Ron keep you company."

Alex just nodded, looking resigned, and Gilvegil let him go, returning to the front of the room to begin the class. During the lesson he noticed Alex’s attention drifting but did not call on him, letting him be. He did not miss the look of relief on Alex’s face when the class ended and sorrowed at the young Man’s disinterest when before he’d been very attentive. While the students went down to the lounge to get some tea or coffee before the next class, he walked over to where the Wilderness Survival class met and spoke briefly with Vorondur, alerting him to Alex’s condition. When Alex and Derek entered the classroom some few minutes later, Vorondur greeted them.

"After lunch, if you’re feeling up to it, why don’t you meet me in the reading room and we’ll talk," he said to Alex.

"About what?"

"About anything you want to say."

"What if I don’t say anything?"

"Then, I’ll probably fall asleep from the absolute quiet and get in a nice little nap," Vorondur replied with a smile.

"And while he’s snoring away, you can sneak out," Derek said, giving Alex a grin.

Alex smiled slightly in return and the two went to find their seats. At one point during the class, Alex found he needed to put his head down, feeling all washed out. Derek simply reached over and patted him on the back, as if to assure him that it was all right, so he drifted in a semi-conscious state, half-listening to the lecture but not really hearing it. Only when there was a shifting of bodies and people talking did he rouse enough to find that the class was over with. Vorondur came to where he was sitting and took the seat next to him, giving him a frown.

"I think you should go lie down after lunch," he ordered.

"What about our talk?" Alex asked.

"We can talk later," Vorondur said.

"I don’t want to be alone," Alex muttered, looking a bit embarrassed, checking to see if his hat was still covering his head.

"I can skip archery and keep you company," Derek suggested.

"I don’t need a baby-sitter," Alex groused, contradicting himself. "I just...."

"Why don’t you come over to Edhellond instead?" Vorondur said. "I’ll pick you up after lunch. You can take a nap there and then we’ll talk if you want and I’ll bring you back in time for dinner."

Alex nodded and Vorondur let them go. He sat there for a time in the empty lecture room, then fished out his cell phone, speed-dialing a number and spoke briefly to the person on the other end before heading out.

****

Alex climbed out of Vorondur’s car and stared at the edifice before him, almost as if he’d never seen it before. The front door opened and Amroth stepped out and greeted him, ushering him inside and helping him with his coat.

"Come into the library," he said.

"I thought I was taking a nap," Alex retorted, though he dutifully followed the Elf with Vorondur trailing them.

"I thought you might be more comfortable in here," Amroth explained and when they entered the library, Alex could see that the sofa had been moved in front of the fireplace where a fire was blazing. It was covered with a warm-looking quilt and a couple of pillows. "Now, why don’t you take off your shoes and lie down," Amroth continued. "No one will disturb you. Ron is going to remain in the room with you so you won’t be alone."

"I have some paperwork to do," Vorondur explained, "so I’ll be over here at the desk. If you need anything, just call out."

Alex didn’t protest and, stretched out on the sofa, wrapped in the quilt, he was asleep in a matter of minutes. Amroth remained for a time, watching him, while Vorondur went to the desk to work. After a while, Amroth sighed and, giving Vorondur a nod, left.

Alex slept for nearly two hours, waking somewhat disoriented, not sure where he was at first. Vorondur heard him and was beside him before he opened his eyes. "Have a nice nap?" he asked solicitously. Alex nodded as he rose and stretched. "Why don’t you go throw some water on your face and I’ll make us some tea. Are you hungry?"

Alex shook his head as he headed out of the library. When he returned, Vorondur had the tea set out with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. The sofa had been returned to its original place and the chairs that normally stood before the fireplace were returned and the two sat, quietly sipping the peppermint tea and munching on the cookies. When Alex had unconsciously reached up to touch his hat for the third time, Vorondur leaned over and pulled his arm down.

"There’s no need to do that, son," he said gently. "Nor is there any reason for you to feel shame. Your hair will grow back."

"Who am I?" Alex asked suddenly, staring at the fire.

"Who do you want to be?" Vorondur retorted.

"I don’t know," came the reply, spoken barely above a whisper. "That sign... they all think I’m Alex, but Alex isn’t real, never has been."

"What about Artemus?" Vorondur asked softly. "Is he real?"

Alex shrugged "I hope not. I don’t like Artemus too much anymore. He’s... not nice. He... he kills people."

"Who is Junior?"

Alex flinched and then he was shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks. "He... he was my friend... b-but I had to... I had to...."

Vorondur stood and pulled the young Man into his embrace as he wept, rubbing Alex’s back in comfort.

"I d-don’t want to b-be Artemus anymore," Alex stuttered between tears. "Please... help me."

Vorondur held him closer. "You can never escape being Artemus," he said gently. "You must learn to accept that part of you, but there’s no reason why you can’t continue being Alex, if that’s what you want."

"They’ll never let me go," Alex said with a sigh as he pulled himself out of the Elf’s embrace. "Artemus is too valuable to them to let him go without a fight."

Vorondur nodded. "True, but if you are sure you want to leave all that behind, we’ll find a way, but do not think that by leaving the Agency you will automatically leave Artemus behind. It doesn’t work that way, son, and you must accept that Artemus will always be a part of you. He has skills and knowledge that are essential and should not be dismissed. Alex is a personable young man, but he’s somewhat shallow. You need Artemus to bring depth to your Alex-character, making him special and unique and not just a two-dimensional construct. Do you understand? You need to integrate the two personalities until they are one and whole. Only then will you be able to be who you want to be, whatever name you give yourself."

"How do I start?" Alex asked.

"It’s always good to start at the beginning," Vorondur replied with a smile. He gestured for Alex to take a seat even as he returned to his own.

Alex nodded, reaching over to pick up his teacup and taking a couple of sips before putting it down. "I think I should start by telling you about Junior," he said, staring into the fire. Vorondur sat back and gave him his full attention as Alex told him about his friend.

50: Enchanted Pumpkins

Before Alex was done speaking he had gone through nearly a box of tissues which Vorondur had supplied. The Elf had said little, only asking one or two questions for clarification, otherwise, he had simply listened and Alex found himself feeling grateful for that. In the end, nothing seemed to have been resolved, as far as Alex was concerned, yet he could not deny that he felt better for ‘confessing’, as he saw it. When he wound down and fell into silence, Vorondur did not immediately speak, letting Alex get himself under control.

"Since you won’t be doing any fencing on Wednesday," the Elf finally said, "I would suggest that you and I get together again. Now that we know where the conflict in you lies, we can deal with it."

"We do?" Alex asked, clearly puzzled.

Vorondur nodded and gave him a smile. "Indeed we do. I think, and this is only my personal opinion, but I think your having to kill your friend was the beginning of the end, so to speak. His death at your hands was more traumatic than you believed. I have little respect for your controllers, as you call them, for giving you that assignment, especially if they were aware, and I have no doubt that they were, of the friendship between you. That was beyond cruel."

Alex just shrugged. "I never thought of it that way."

"Yet, it cannot be denied," Vorondur said. "Now, I see our time is up," — Alex couldn’t help laughing at that and Vorondur grinned — "but before we go, there’s something you need to do."

"What’s that?" Alex asked, now looking wary.

"Come with me and I’ll show you," Vorondur said and stood. Alex followed suit and they left the library and headed up the hall towards the front door but stopped before they got there. Alex was surprised to see Vorondur open the lavatory door and gesture him inside even as he turned on the light. "You’ve not seen yourself in the mirror without that hat, have you?" the Elf asked him. Alex instinctively reached up to make sure the hat was in place and shook his head.

"And I don’t want to," he said standing in the doorway, refusing to go all the way in.

"Yet, I think if you wish for full healing, you need to face yourself," Vorondur said sympathetically. "What do you fear you’ll see if you were to stand before the mirror without your hat?"

"Someone ugly," Alex replied.

"Let me ask you this: if you had to create a persona for one of your espionage assignments that necessitated you to shave your head, how would that make you feel?"

Alex stared at Vorondur for a long moment, silently marveling at the perfect stillness of the Elf. He had the feeling that Vorondur could stand there for an eternity waiting for his answer. Slowly, without taking his eyes off of the Elf, Alex moved into the lavatory to stand before the sink. That was as far as he could go on his own, he realized. He still refused to look in the mirror. Vorondur reached out and gently turned him so he was facing his own image.

"Self-image is important," Vorondur said quietly, standing behind Alex with his hands on the Mortal’s shoulders, the two of them staring into the mirror. "The problem is, we rarely see ourselves as others do. We are more likely to see the bad things, the things we don’t like about ourselves, and not see the good things that others see. When I look at you, Alex, I don’t see ugliness. I see a warm and caring individual who has been forced to do terrible things in the name of goodness and that has left a darkness in your soul, but none of us are perfect."

"Except Loren," Alex interjected and Vorondur smiled at the attempt at levity.

"Well, Loren is unique, but as for the rest of us... Child, I think you’ve invested yourself more deeply in being ‘Alex’ instead of ‘Artemus’ than you suspect, especially after your experience at the tarn. And now, because of this recent accident, you want ‘Alex’ to be more real than ‘Artemus’, but as you pointed out, he’s not. He’s a construct, nothing more."

"How do I make him real?" Alex asked.

"By accepting who and what you are, the good, the bad and the indifferent, and you start by removing that hat and seeing yourself as you are and not as you want to be. Elrohir told you to think of your baldness as a badge of honor. You got it honestly and there’s no shame to it."

"It’s so different for you, though," Alex retorted somewhat bitterly.

"How do you mean?"

"You’re all so... beautiful, inside and out, even Amroth."

"If you believe that, child, then you are mistaken. We all must face the baser aspects of ourselves. You know enough of our history to realize that the Eldar are not angels, as you would define them. We’ve done terrible things... I’ve done terrible things."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "You have? What...?"

"I will not speak of that here and now. Suffice to say that the long life of the Eldar allows them plenty of scope to commit evil. What I may or may not have done is irrelevant. I merely brought it up to show you that we all have choices in our lives. The choices you made in the past could be seen as evil on one level, yet you made them with good intentions, believing that in doing what you did, you were safeguarding the innocence of others. But a price has to be paid for that and you’re beginning to understand what that price is: your soul. Now, because of everything that’s happened to you since you came to Wiseman, you are being confronted with the need to make a different kind of choice: will you be ‘Alex’ or ‘Artemus, remembering that ‘Artemus’ is not necessarily evil, but there is a darkness within him that must be purged if he and ‘Alex’ are to become one and the same. You, Artemus Gordon Meriwether, can only become Alex Grant if you accept who and what you are and recognize that ‘Artemus’ will always be a part of you, a necessary part, an important part, for he has skills that are essential for your continued survival. Do not dismiss that part of you too blindly. The ‘Artemus’ part of you may well save your life or the life of another someday."

"And what about ‘Alex’? What does he have that ‘Artemus’ doesn’t?"

"I think ‘Alex’ is more compassionate, more caring, more... human, if you will, than ‘Artemus’, but in the end, this is something you need to discover for yourself and you may find qualities in ‘Alex’ that are different from what I’ve enumerated. In the meantime, the burning question of the hour is: how long do you intend to hide behind that hat?"

For a long moment Alex merely stared into the mirror, not really seeing his own image, his eyes focused on the image of the Elf standing behind him with his long dark hair and grey eyes full of compassion and understanding. There was no sense of condescension in them and Alex suddenly realized that the Elf did not see him as something less, but rather, something other than himself and that alone made him worthy of the Elf’s respect. With a sigh, he slowly raised his arms and lifted the hat off his head, closing his eyes as he did so, not seeing Vorondur’s smile of understanding. He felt the Elf take the hat from him.

"Open your eyes, Alex," Vorondur said softly.

With some reluctance, he did and stared into the mirror, trying to recognize the person standing before him with his head shaved so only a stubble of brown hair remained. He could see the scar of the incision that looked nearly faded and knew that once his hair grew back, it would no longer be seen. Yet, in spite of his baldness, he realized that he didn’t look that much different from before. His eyes were still a deep blue, his face had freckles here and there, his nose was too short and he still had a cleft chin. In spite of his baldness, he knew his mother would still recognize him and he suddenly realized that that had been his fear, that somehow, his own mother would not know him. It was a foolish fear, he now knew, yet it had been real for him... until now.

"You see, you haven’t changed all that much, have you?" Vorondur said. "And the hair will grow back."

"I still don’t plan to be seen in public without my hat, though," Alex said.

"Well, as it is getting colder, it only makes sense," Vorondur said with a chuckle, handing the hat back to Alex so he could put it on. "Come. I’ll take you back to the college." With that, they exited the lavatory and headed to the front door. Grabbing coats from the closet they opened the door to see Zach stepping out of his van and heading for them.

Alex saw his young friend and smiled. "Zach! Long time, no see."

The two Mortals shook hands. "I know," Zach answered with a grimace. "Managed to avoid the stomach flu then came down with a nasty cold. Loren refused to let me join you-all at the races last week. How are you doing?" he asked Alex with a concerned look.

Alex looked sideways at Vorondur before answering. "Better. What about you?"

"Still a bit stuffy, but I’ll live," came the reply.

"So what brings you here?" Vorondur asked.

Zach fished out a piece of orange-colored paper from a pocket and unfolded it, handing it to Vorondur. Alex looked over the Elf’s shoulder to read it. "Enchanted Pumpkins?" he said.

"They were handing these flyers out in town," Zach explained, "and when I read it, for some reason, I immediately thought of Loren."

"Oh?" Vorondur asked. "And why is that?"

Zach shrugged. "Not sure. I saw him earlier this morning and he looked a bit… um… frazzled."

"Frazzled?" Vorondur repeated, looking rather amused.

"Yeah, I know," Zach said with a grin. "Frazzled and Loren don’t usually go together, he’s always so with it, but he looked pretty out of it when I saw him. Barely said two words together the whole time I was with him. Anyway, I just thought it would be great to go as a group."

"I don’t recall this from last year," Vorondur said.

"I asked the person handing out the flyers," Zach replied. "Seems this is something they do only every other year. The last time, you weren’t here and Loren and the others were students. I doubt they paid much attention to anything outside of the Academy. I know I didn’t. So, what do you think?"

"I think it sounds like a good time," Vorondur said. "According to this it runs for about a week beginning this weekend. I will definitely bring this to everyone’s attention. Thank you."

"What exactly is this enchanted pumpkin thing?" Alex asked, staring at the poster in Vorondur’s hand.

"People carve pumpkins in a variety of different ways and then they display them along a series of trails in the park that runs along Chandalar Lake, just south of the town," Zach answered. "I understand there are prizes for the best ones and some people have been working on their carving for the last week or so. They’ll have food and such as well. Sounds like fun, don’t you think? Maybe you and Derek would like to come. I’m planning to go with Nicole and the kids."

"What about her boyfriend?" Alex asked.

"He’s in Anchorage this week on business, otherwise, he would probably join us," Zach replied.

"We’ll have to see about maybe getting some buses together and taking anyone who’s interested," Vorondur said, handing the poster back to Zach, but the Mortal waved it away.

"I’ve got another copy in the van," he said. "I was planning on posting it on the bulletin board in the cafeteria."

"In that case, I wonder if you’d mind giving Alex a lift back," Vorondur said.

"Sure. No problem."

"I’ll see you after lunch on Wednesday," Vorondur said to Alex. "You can just stop by my office. We’ll talk there."

Alex nodded. "I’ll be there and thanks… for everything."

Vorondur smiled. "My pleasure. Now, off you go and I’ll see you later. Zach, if you run into Glorfindel or Daeron, tell them Holly and I are planning to eat out tonight, so we won’t be here for dinner."

"Okay. See ya." And the two Mortals climbed into Zach’s van and were off.

****

When Derek saw the poster about the Enchanted Pumpkins, he became quite excited and hoped that they would be able to go. "If they get enough people interested, they might use the buses to take us there and then we don’t have to drive," he said as he read the poster which Zach had placed on the bulletin board. "Maybe if there’s a sign-up sheet...."

"That’s not a bad idea," Zach said. "I’ll talk to Loren about it." Alex and Derek invited him to stay for dinner, but he’d already made plans to have dinner with Shane and others, so he bade them goodnight.

When people arrived at the cafeteria the next morning for breakfast they found a note by the poster stating that the Academy had bought a certain number of tickets for the event and they would be available on a first-come, first-serve basis. Transportation to and from Chandalar would be provided. Needless to say, the sign-up sheet was quickly filled with Derek’s and Alex’s names at the top.

The rest of the week went quietly enough. Tuesday, Derek convinced Alex to go into town with him and do some early Christmas shopping and then they met Zach at the café for lunch. Wednesday afternoon, Alex showed up for his counseling session at Vorondur’s office and the Elf was pleased to see that the young Man was not wearing his hat and Alex admitted that he decided not to wear it while inside the Academy.

"I didn’t realize being bald was considered sexy," he said almost shyly. "So far today I’ve been propositioned by three women and even by one of the guys!"

Vorondur couldn’t help but laugh at the mixture of affront and surprise that the Mortal was exhibiting and Alex found himself grinning in spite of himself. Vorondur indicated that Alex should take a seat and the session that followed was less tearful and more constructive than the previous one. By the end of it, Alex felt he’d come to terms with what had been happening to him and left in good spirits. Vorondur, however, knew that they had barely begun and spent some time mulling over the things that Alex had revealed about his life, planning out how he would approach the next session scheduled for the following Tuesday.

All this time, Alex conveniently forgot about Farrell and the Agency, and in fact, had neglected to check his email since returning from the hospital, but on Thursday, with the morning free and being alone while Derek was out jogging with some of his friends, he opened his laptop with the intention of emailing his mom and letting her know how he was doing, without telling her about the avalanche, only to find several emails from Maddy, the latest one from the day before. He sighed and was tempted to ignore them, but knew he couldn’t. He did delete the first six without opening them and read only the most recent one. The message was terse and to the point. He responded by describing how he’d been caught in an avalanche while snowshoe walking with friends and had only just been released from the hospital. He then ended with:

‘I received the termination order for Elwood but am not entirely convinced that McKinley is Elwood. Am attempting to get a set of fingerprints and will send them to you for comparison with Elwood’s file. As soon as I have confirmation that the fingerprints match, I’ll carry out the order.’

And in the entire message was no mention of Farrell. He pressed the ‘send’ button and then shot a quick, cheery email to his mom before closing down the laptop and going out to look for Amroth whom he found in his office. When he explained about Maddy, the Elf nodded.

"I’ve been gathering all the documentation you wanted," he said, "and should have it ready for you by Monday. As for fingerprints, that’s easy enough to do. I’ll give you a nice, clear set for you to send to Maddy."

Alex nodded his thanks, then left, deciding to go for a walk before lunch. He went back to his room and grabbed his coat and hat and headed for the woods, slipping between the trees and moving towards the heart of the woods, finding a fallen log on which to sit. He unwound his scarf and used it as a seat so he wouldn’t get the bottom of his jeans wet and sat, willing the stillness of his surroundings to seep into his soul. He finally got up and left only when he heard his stomach growling and knew it was time for lunch. When he reached the edge of the woods, he instinctively turned to face the trees and gave them a bow, mouthing a soft ‘le hannon’ before heading back to the Academy, feeling somewhat foolish at doing something so daft and glad no one had been there to see him.

The next couple of days dragged and he heard nothing from either Maddy or Farrell. Maddy, he did not care about too much, but Farrell worried him. The man had gone to ground and no one seemed to know where he’d gone, but since there was little Alex could do about it, he pushed him from his thoughts and concentrated on just being ‘Alex Grant’.

Thus on Saturday, at four o’clock, he and Derek, along with the students who had been lucky enough to get tickets, boarded the buses for Chandalar. Alex saw that all the Elves were also joining them and he and Derek made a point to board the same bus as they. By the time they reached Chandalar, it was almost dark. The buses made their way into a park to the south of the town and everyone got out. Pumpkin lights were strewn about in trees and luminaries lined the walkway. Alex could see dark figures of other people wandering about. There was a large tent where people could purchase food and drink and he saw a couple of ‘gypsies’ telling fortunes. Another, smaller tent was situated away from the food tent and a sign outside it stated that owls and other night birds were on display within. There were signs pointing to the two trails where the pumpkins were and everyone split up to go their separate ways, agreeing to return to the buses by nine o’clock.

Without being asked, Alex and Derek tagged along with the Elves. Zach was with them along with several other people, including Shane and Jud and Nicole and her kids. They stopped to buy glow rods for the children. A quiet consultation with a map that had been provided for them when they entered the park sent them heading for the trail that wound through the woods, leaving the other trail that ran down to the lake for after. The Elves had no difficulty in seeing in the dark and aptly guided their Mortal friends around barely seen obstacles. Once on the trail, though, they were able to follow the lights of the pumpkins.

Alex marveled at the sight: pumpkins of various sizes carved in a variety of different ways. Some were simply, yet masterfully carved into scary faces, others were more detailed, looking more like screens behind which the candles flickered, offering incredibly complex scenes of haunted houses, knights on horseback, intricately carved spiders and dragons and even the faces of well-known celebrities or favorite fictional characters from the movies. There was one of a ship sailing on the ocean and another of a swan, which Alphwen especially liked. These were indeed enchanted and enchanting pumpkins and everyone oohed and aahed over them, some of the students pulling out their phones and taking pictures of their favorites. Alex noticed though, that none of the Elves made any comments, yet he could tell that they were as impressed as everyone else at the skill in which the pumpkins had been carved.

The trail curved back on itself as they headed towards the entrance and everyone stopped in amazement at a series of pumpkins that had been set one on top of another like miniature totem poles, each pumpkin carved with a different face.

"And this is just the first trail," Derek whispered in awe and Alex could only nod as he examined the closest ‘totem pole’, smiling for no particular reason, but feeling suddenly light-hearted and delighting in such beauty. In spite of the crowd, the woods were nearly silent, everyone speaking in whispers, as if they were in a church, and he realized that there was that same sense of hushed awe that he’d often experienced when inside one of the great cathedrals of Europe.

They came out of the woods at a slightly different point from where they’d entered and stood looking about to get their bearings. Nicole indicated she was going to take her brood over to the food tent, for the night was chilly and the children were looking a bit blue.

"Some hot chocolate and maybe a hot dog should warm them up," she told them, "and then I’ll take them to see the owls. We’ll meet up with you later." They all nodded as she herded the children away and then everyone else made their way to the other trail. As with the first trail, this one was lined with pumpkins carved in a variety of different ways. They followed the trail, the Mortals straining to see the way at times, as it wound through another part of the woods lining the lake but this trail actually followed the shore for a bit and Alex could see the dark water glimmering under starlight. The Elves stopped to admire the lake for several long minutes where the trail opened up and one could step down to a viewing platform with benches. Zach and the other Mortals moved on but Alex hung back and Derek stayed with him, waiting for the Elves to leave the lakeshore and continue along the trail.

As they were making their way along the trail heading back towards the entrance, Derek suddenly commented, "Where’s Loren?"

Everyone stopped and stared about. "He was with us when we stopped to look at the lake," Ercassë said.

"I’ll go back and see if he’s still there," Alex volunteered but the Elves shook their heads.

"Let him be," Daeron said. "He probably would like some time to himself."

Alex nodded reluctantly and they continued on. They had not gone far, though, when the Elves stopped almost as one, going completely still, staring at the pumpkins.

"Is that Sindarin?" Alex asked in surprise, pointing to one of the pumpkins carved with a strange curling design.

"Hey, there’s another one that looks almost like it," Derek said, pointing to another further up the trail.

The Elves did not move or speak and Alex attempted to read what was carved on the pumpkins, trying to remember his tengwar. Then, Daeron spoke, his voice sounding strained to Alex’s ears.

"Ron, go find Loren. He needs to see this."

Ron merely nodded, his expression actually grim, much to Alex’s surprise, and headed back down the trail, dodging oncoming pumpkin viewers. The Elves, along with Alex and Derek, moved a bit to the side to let people pass.

"What does it say?" Derek finally asked, but none of the Elves answered and the Mortals were forced to wait impatiently for Vorondur to return with Glorfindel.

****

Le hannon: (Sindarin) ‘Thank you’.

Note: The description of the enchanted pumpkins is based on an annual event at the Beaver Lake Nature Center in Baldwinsville, New York, in which over six hundred pumpkins are carved in a variety of designs and laid out along two of the Center’s trails.

51: 67.5 North by 151.6 West

Glorfindel had been skeptical about the enchanted pumpkins and had not planned to accompany the others to the event, but when Vorondur told him how Zach had described Glorfindel as ‘frazzled’ and that the Mortal thought the event would be good for the Elf-lord, he had raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"And if a Mortal could see how... frazzled you are, my friend," Vorondur had added with a glint of amusement in his eyes, "what does that say about you?"

So, in the end, Glorfindel had agreed to come and had even arranged for the tickets and busses. Yet, as they stepped onto the first path he had sneered to himself at the simple, not to say simplistic, carvings that greeted them. That is, until he saw the one with the knight on horseback wielding a lance, and then the swan, so graceful and lifelike that he almost expected to see it moving, and then the ship... the ship! Suddenly, he was seeing the graceful swan ships of the Teleri in his mind and he could have sworn he smelled the brine in the air and felt the spray upon his face. After that, his estimation of the skill of these Mortals in carving the pumpkins went up considerably and he actually found himself relaxing, the tensions of the last week easing as he studied one pumpkin after another. The ‘totem pole’ pumpkins, especially, delighted him and he marveled anew at the ingenuity of the Secondborn, who, on the surface, appeared to be unskillful, clumsy and ignorant in comparison to any of the Eldar, yet seemed always to be able to rise to the occasion when the situation demanded it.

By the time they took the lake trail he was ready to admit that coming here was the best idea Zach had had in a long time and he reminded himself to tell the Mortal that before the evening ended. When they came upon the lake though, something in Glorfindel opened up and he found himself captured by its beauty as nothing had done before and when the others moved on he remained, staring out onto the dark, still waters, the other shore invisible in the dark even to his eyes. Clouds obscured most of the sky, but looking north, it was clear and the Valacirca shown brilliantly above the lake, the cold fire of the stars like diamonds on velvet.

It seemed almost like a sign, though he wasn’t sure what the message might be. Yet, something opened up within him, a type of melancholy that he did not expect, and he suddenly felt homesick. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in ages and the force of it nearly brought him to his knees. Instead, he stumbled over to the nearest bench and sat heavily, fighting the tears that were threatening to come.

A song came to him unbidden, one that he hadn’t thought of in many years. When he’d first heard it, he had adopted it as his own, though none knew it. Yet, the words had spoken to him as no others had. In a fit of whimsy, he had even translated it into Quenya and one line of the song flowed through his mind:

‘Meldolya ara le ná, ar quetë anyára lambenen....’

Then, without consciously thinking about it, he began softly to sing the entire song, though in English, and as he sang, he felt himself becoming less melancholy and more hopeful, especially as he came to the final lines of the song:

"...but if my spirit is strong, I know it can’t be long. No question, I’m not alone; somehow I’ll find my way home... somehow I’ll find my way home...."

"Glorfindel."

Glorfindel turned to see Vorondur standing there, giving him a quizzical look. "Are you all right?" he asked softly in Sindarin, stepping down to sit beside the other ellon. "We were concerned when we realized you were no longer with us."

"Sorry. I just felt a need to be alone," Glorfindel said, giving him a chagrined look.

"I couldn’t help overhearing the last part of the song you were singing," Vorondur said.

Glorfindel shrugged, now looking a bit embarrassed. "When I first heard it, it spoke to me in a way I’ve never experienced before or since. I like to think of it as my song. Silly, I know."

"Not at all," Vorondur said with a smile. "For the longest time, my song was the Rolling Stones’ ‘I Can’t Get No Satisfaction’."

Glorfindel stared at him in disbelief. "Why…?"

Now it was Vorondur’s turn to look embarrassed. "Let’s just say Holly and I were experiencing some… um… difficulty in… um… communication at one point." He gave Glorfindel a suggestive look and the ellon burst out laughing.

"And now?" he asked, giving Vorondur a sly look.

Vorondur just smiled and Glorfindel nodded in understanding.

"I came looking for you because we’ve discovered something that you need to see," Vorondur then said, rising.

"What?"

But the ellon shook his head. "It’s best if you just come and see for yourself."

Glorfindel sighed as he stood. "Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this."

Vorondur gave him a sympathetic smile and clapped him on the shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. "I’ll leave it to you to decide if it’s a good thing or not."

The two Elves made their way up the trail, following behind a family consisting of a mother and father, two pre-teen children and another one being pushed along in a stroller. The two older children exclaimed at the pumpkins, their parents encouraging them to identify what was carved on them. Eventually, they reached where the others were waiting for them and Daeron simply pointed to one of the pumpkins without saying a word.

Glorfindel looked to where the loremaster was pointing and felt his heart lurch. His eyes gazed at the other pumpkins nearby.

"Well, what does it say?" Alex asked impatiently. "Is it Sindarin? I recognize the tengwar but the words don’t make much sense."

Glorfindel ignored the Mortal, stepping further up the trail looking for other similarly carved pumpkins. It was Elrohir who finally answered in a rather distracted manner. "It’s Quenya."

"Can you read it?" Derek asked.

But none of the Elves answered him, all of them intent on Glorfindel, as if waiting for his reaction. Finally, he returned to them. "We need to find where this is," he said quietly and the other Elves nodded.

"Where what is?" Alex demanded. "Damn it all, will someone please explain what the blazes is going on, or are you all incapable of that much courtesy?"

Glorfindel stared at him, as if only just realizing that there were Mortals in their midst. "Sixty-seven-point-five north by one-hundred-and-fifty-one-point-six west. That’s the message or part of it."

"Message?" Derek asked. "What does the rest of it say?"

"‘When Tilion is half seen, help will come at midnight’ is the closest translation," Glorfindel supplied. "Then there are the coordinates."

"So what does that mean?" Alex asked, frowning. "Tilion half seen. That doesn’t make sense."

"But it does, at least if you’re an Elf," Glorfindel said. "We know the day and the time but not where."

"We’ll look at our map of Alaska when we get home," Daeron assured him. "In the meantime, it’s getting late. Let’s continue on and round up the others."

Glorfindel nodded and everyone set off. Alex groused at Derek as they trailed behind the Elves, speaking in a whisper, "Damn Elves. They never give you a straight answer to a simple question."

Derek just grunted in agreement. Neither of the Mortals could see the amused looks on the faces of the Elves who had overheard the complaint.

****

The ride back was interminable and it was close to midnight before they reached Wiseman. The Elves, who had ridden together on one bus, had the driver stop when they reached the middle of the town so they could get off, thus preventing Alex and Derek from following them. None of the Elves had bothered to answer any of their questions during the ride back and the two Mortals had had to swallow their frustration and anger. Neither of them joined the quiet conversations of their fellows describing their experiences at the event. Alex did notice that just before boarding the bus, Daeron pulled Zach, Jud and Shane aside and spoke to them. He did not hear what was said but he saw all three shake their heads. Daeron’s expression as he walked away was thoughtful.

As soon as they reached the Academy, Alex practically ran to his room with Derek right behind him. "What’s the rush, mate?" he asked as he caught up with his roommate at the door.

"What were those coordinates? Sixty-seven-something," Alex said as he flipped on the light, then went to his desk and opened his laptop, turning it on.

"Sixty-seven-point-five north and one-hundred-fifty-one-point-six west," Derek answered. "What are you doing?"

"Googling the coordinates. I want to see where this place is. Well, it’s definitely in Alaska. Look. Wild Lake. Where is that?"

Derek looked over Alex’s shoulder and pointed at the screen. "Scroll down. There may be a link to a map. There. Try that one."

Alex clicked on the link and in seconds a map appeared and they found themselves looking at a lake neatly labeled. "I wonder where this is. Wait. What does it say there? Gates of the Arctic... this is west of us somewhere. Here. I’m going to zoom out a bit and see if there are any other features we might recognize."

"There’s the James Dalton Highway," Derek said as the picture shrunk, "And look, there’s Wiseman. It looks as if Wild Lake is almost directly west of it."

"There doesn’t seem to be any road leading to it though," Alex pointed out.

"Zoom back in a bit," Derek ordered. "There. See. It looks like there’s a dirt road leading out of Wiseman heading in that direction. That might be the way to go."

"So, Wild Lake," Alex said, sitting back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "We know the place and the time but not the day."

"Tilion half seen. You know, Tilion was the Maia who was supposed to guide the moon and I think the Elves sometimes referred to it as Tilion, so Tilion half seen would be when...."

"When there’s a half moon," Alex interjected, nodding. He started keying something on the laptop and Derek could see that he was calling up a moon phase chart. He selected November from the pull-down menu and the present year.

"Why November?" Derek asked. "We’re still in October."

"But the moon is barely visible," Alex replied. "It was dark just a few days ago, so it’s waxing. See? The next half-moon is on Wednesday, November second."

"It could also be the first or the third," Derek pointed out. "It’s kind of hard to tell from the images just when it becomes a real half-moon."

Alex nodded. "And the message said midnight, but which midnight? It is a bit vague, isn’t it? I wonder why, whoever sent this message, just didn’t have a Maia come and tell them?"

Derek gave him a wry look. "But that’s no fun."

Alex gave him a disbelieving look and then the two of them were laughing as Alex shut down the laptop. "C’mon,’ he said. "It’s late and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open."

Derek nodded as he went to his closet and retrieved his toiletry bag. "You know, that lake isn’t all that large but it’s large enough. I wonder just where along the lake they’re supposed to go and just who is supposed to come and from where?"

"All good questions," Alex said, grabbing his own toiletry bag as they headed for the bathroom, "but I don’t think we’re going to find answers for them tonight."

"Yeah," Derek said in agreement.

"I’m wondering what Loren and the others are making of all this," Alex said and Derek nodded in agreement.

****

"What do you make of this?" Elrohir asked his twin quietly as they stood in the library where everyone had gathered as soon as they had divested themselves of their coats. Nimrodel and Ercassë offered to make them all some tea while Glorfindel and Daeron consulted an atlas, placing the large tome on the reading desk.

Elladan shrugged. "Seems to be a strange way of sending messages, but Glorfindel’s always going on about how the Valar like to play games with us."

"You think this is from them?" Elrohir asked, looking surprised, as if the thought had never occurred to him.

Elladan shrugged again. "Makes sense when you think about it. Certainly no Mortal would’ve carved those words on the pumpkins like that."

"Here," they heard Daeron say and the Twins moved closer to get a look. "Wild Lake."

"Couldn’t the Valar have been more precise?" Amroth asked with an amused look. "That’s still a lot of territory. Just where did they expect us to go?"

"And why there?" Gilvegil asked. "That’s a pretty remote spot."

"Which may be the whole point," Barahir retorted with a snort. "It’s out of the way. We’re not likely to encounter any Mortals."

"Still, it’s a strange place to arrange a rendevous and with whom?" Cennanion interjected.

"That is the question of the hour, isn’t it?" Daeron said with a wry grin.

All this time Glorfindel had remained silent, staring at the map. Vorondur, who had been keeping a close eye on Glorfindel, leaned over the table, placing a hand on the Elf-lord’s arm. "What say you, my lord? What are your thoughts?"

Glorfindel glanced up at the Noldo, then straightened, looking at the Twins. "Dan, Roy, I want you to go through all our camping gear and our weapons. We’ll also need provisions for two or three days, just in case."

"Weapons?" Elrohir asked, frowning.

Glorfindel nodded. "I’m not taking any chances."

"And just who is going?" Amroth asked.

"The warriors," Glorfindel replied.

"All of us?" Barahir exclaimed.

Glorfindel nodded. "As I said, I’m not taking any chances."

"Well, that leaves me out," Daeron said in a whisper.

"And us," Ercassë added, nodding to the other ellith.

"Actually, I want you with us, Darren," Glorfindel said and the loremaster gave him a surprised look.

"Why? I’m no warrior, though, granted, I can hold my own against almost any threat. The Valar know I’ve had to learn to wield a variety of weapons to survive as long as I have."

"I know, but something tells me you need to be there when we greet our guests, whoever they are."

"And why can’t we go along?" Serindë demanded, looking rebellious. "Why do ellyn always treat us as if we’re helpless? There are Mortal females who can take any of you down."

"That’s true, but none of you have had training in combat or in the kind of woodlore that we will need to call forth," Glorfindel answered. "I don’t know what we will be facing, but I’m not taking any chances with your lives, especially Della’s. She’s carrying the hope of the future and I want you ellith to watch over her."

He turned to Amroth and started to speak but the former king of Laurinand raised a hand to forestall him. "I’ll be no use to you," he said. "I’m needed here."

Glorfindel nodded.

"Speaking of Mortals," Daeron said, "what about Alex and Derek?"

Glorfindel frowned at him. "What do you mean? I’m not about to bring them in on this. It’s not their concern."

"Do you think so?" Daeron shot back, giving him a hard look, then turning to the others. "Did any of you notice anything odd about those pumpkins?"

"Other than the fact that they were carved in Quenya?" Vorondur asked, looking amused.

"You didn’t notice?"" Daeron shot back.

"Notice what?" Glorfindel demanded almost angrily. "This is not the time for riddles, Darren. Spit it out. What are you babbling about?"

"I watched the Mortals who passed us while we were waiting for Ron to find you," the loremaster answered. "I recognized some of them, people from Wiseman who’ve taken our language courses, including Quenya. Not one of them seemed to recognize those pumpkins as being carved in Quenya tengwar, yet Alex and Derek recognized the tengwar immediately even though they couldn’t read what it said. I asked Zach, Shane and Jud, whom I knew had gone ahead of us if they had noticed anything strange about the pumpkins and they all denied it. I described to them the stretch of the trail where those pumpkins were placed and they told me that they remembered seeing a couple of pumpkins with, and I quote, ‘really weird looking curly-cues’."

"What are you saying?" Elrohir asked.

"Does it not seem strange to you that people who, like Zach, for instance, are now quite fluent in Quenya never recognized the tengwar carved on those pumpkins, but Alex and Derek, neither of whom have learned Quenya and can barely read Sindarin script, recognized what they were seeing? That tells me that they have a role in this. I don’t think it was an accident that they of all the Mortals who saw those pumpkins were the only ones who saw them as they truly were."

Glorfindel frowned. "I’m not in the mood to drag Mortals into this."

"Yet, if we are truly to be partners with them, allies in the coming war, we need to respect them and their roles in all this," Vorondur said. "You certainly have had enough experience with fighting beside Men over the ages and know their worth. I agree with Darren. The fact that Alex and Derek saw those pumpkins and recognized the tengwar while none of the other Mortals, whom you would expect to have recognized and even be able to read the tengwar, did not, is important. I would not dismiss that or them out of hand just yet."

Glorfindel sighed, running his hands through his hair. "I guess," he said, not really convinced. "At any rate, we’ll deal with them later. Right now, I want everyone who’s going to double-check your gear. We’ll plan to leave around six on Monday night. That’ll give us plenty of time to reach the lake."

"Ithil doesn’t become a half moon until Wednesday, though," Elladan protested.

"Yes, but I can’t help thinking of the deeper significance of the dates. Monday is Halloween, which makes Tuesday...."

"All Saints," Elladan interjected with a nod of understanding, "and that makes Wednesday All Souls’ Day according to the Christians. Midnight on any of those days would be significant."

"So the question remains, just where along Wild Lake are we supposed to go?" Daeron said. "That’s a lot of territory to cover. Let’s hope whoever is coming will know where to find us."

"You didn’t see the pumpkin sitting next to the ones with the coordinates carved in them?" Glorfindel asked.

"I really didn’t pay much attention. Why?" Daeron answered.

"It was a picture of a man in a boat fishing," Glorfindel replied. "I know exactly where we need to go. Richard Martina showed me the spot last summer when we went fishing at that very same lake."

Everyone gave him surprised looks and Glorfindel smiled smugly as he picked up his teacup.

****

Note: Glorfindel’s ‘theme song’ is Vangelis’ "I'll Find My Way Home". Most people of a certain age may remember the version sung by Jon Anderson. I prefer the one sung by Masters of Chant Gregorian. Both versions can be found on YouTube.

The line given in Quenya refers to the beginning of the third verse:

Meldolya ara le ná, ar quetë anyára lambenen: ‘Your friend is close by your side, and speaks in far ancient tongue’ [literally, ‘Your friend is near you and speaks by means of a very ancient language’.]

52: A Minor Upset

Sunday morning, while the Elves were finishing breakfast and finalizing plans for their upcoming trip to Wild Lake, a knock came on the front door and when Gilvegil went to answer it he found Alex and Derek standing there grinning. Before he could even give them a greeting, though in truth, he was not very happy to see them and knew that the others would not be as well, Alex blurted out, "Wild Lake on Wednesday."

Gilvegil blinked, then sighed. "Come in, then." He opened the door wider and stepped aside to let the two Mortals in, then, after shutting the door while they hung up their coats, led them down the hall to the kitchen. As they entered, everyone looked up and Alex watched with faint amusement as their expressions all became unreadable and he shook his head.

"My, my. Your welcome is so... underwhelming. If I were the suspicious sort, I would think you weren’t glad to see us."

"Why are you here?" Glorfindel asked and both Mortals raised eyebrows at the tone and the unspoken other half of the question: and why are you bothering us?

"C’mon, Derek," Alex said, giving the Elves a sneer. "We’re obviously wasting our time with these... high and mighty beings." Then he gave them a mocking bow. "Forgive us for having had the audacity to breathe in your presence. We won’t bother you again... ever."

He and Derek were half-way down the hall when they felt more than heard someone come up behind them. They stopped and turned around to see Vorondur there. The Elf’s expression was unreadable to them, but there was a fire in his eyes that spoke of anger barely suppressed and the two Mortals instinctively fell back a step or two, both of them taking defensive stances, their own expressions wary. Vorondur stopped and his expression mutated to one of regret.

"We said we wouldn’t bother you again," Alex exclaimed angrily. "Are you here to make sure we don’t lift the silver on our way out?"

"No, it’s not that," the Elf said quietly, extending his hand. "Please, come back and let’s talk."

"There’s nothing to talk about," Alex retorted, nearly shouting in his anger. "It’s very clear to us that you don’t want us around, that you see us as nuisances, as children underfoot. I don’t need to be condescended to by the likes of you. I can’t speak for Derek, but as for myself, I’m out of here. I’m packing my bags and heading home and you can all drop dead for all I care!"

He started to turn but a shimmer of light blocked his way and then there was the smell of rosemary and something else that he couldn’t identify and standing before him was someone he did not know though he realized it must be a Maia. Both Alex and Derek gasped and something very like terror swept through Alex’s soul at the utter beauty of the being before him, a beauty that made the Elves seem plain and ordinary in comparison.

"Fear not, Children," the Maia said, giving them a gentle smile, and his voice was like the sound of merry bells ringing through eternity. "I am Olórin of the People of Manwë."

"My lord, greetings," Vorondur said formally, giving the Maia a respectful bow.

Alex and Derek could only stare, their mouths hanging open. Alex recovered from the shock a bit sooner than Derek, having already met Fionwë, but Derek looked as if he was about to collapse as he hugged the wall, his breathing fast and shallow. Vorondur was by his side in a flash, turning him so he was forced to look at the Elf. Alex heard soft words being spoken but did not understand them and paid little attention to what Vorondur was doing, his eyes fixed on the Maia who stood there as calm as a summer’s day. There was nothing threatening about him, but Alex couldn’t help wishing he had some sort of weapon in his hands. Then, Olórin smiled at him, as if he knew what Alex was thinking, and the smile was one of gentle amusement and his eyes sparkled with barely suppressed mischief that reassured Alex as nothing else could and the Mortal felt himself relaxing.

Derek, meanwhile, had recovered enough from his shock so that Vorondur released him, giving him a comforting pat on his shoulder before turning to the Maia. "I take it this is not a social call, my lord?"

Olórin laughed and it was so full of gaiety that it made them all smile in spite of themselves. "Hardly. I’m here to make sure you Children don’t make a grave mistake. Now, why don’t we join everyone in the kitchen?"

"I’m surprised they’re not all out here," Vorondur said. "Between Alex’s yelling and all...."

"The reason for that will become clear enough," the Maia said, making a shooing motion with his hands, forcing them back down the hall. And when they came into the kitchen, they saw just what Olórin meant: the Elves were not alone.

The two Mortals had the dubious pleasure of seeing the Elves looking very humble and contrite as they faced someone standing in the middle of the room, and Alex had the sense that somehow the room had expanded to allow this person to stand there, for he was too tall for the space which he occupied. He was dressed in chainmail that glittered with a silvery sheen under a blue knee-length surcoat and a white cloak trimmed with white fur. The long white hair was braided with diamonds and sapphires and on his head he wore a silvery-looking diadem with a heart-shaped apple-green gem in the center. From a belt of richly tooled leather hung a scabbard with a sword that was easily as long as Alex was tall. 

The being turned as they entered, his silver-grey eyes glowing with a preternatural light. "Ah, good, we’re all here," he said. "Thank you, Olórin. Please see that we are not disturbed."

Olórin bowed. "It will be as you say, Eönwë," he said and faded from their sight.

Eönwë gestured to Alex and Derek. "Come, we’re all friends here. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Eönwë of the People of Manwë. Vorondur, perhaps you would be so kind as to get our young friends here some coffee. Barahir, let’s bring some chairs in from the dining room so everyone can sit."

Before Alex and Derek knew it, they were seated with mugs of coffee in their hands while the Elves sat around them, all of them facing the Maia as if they were students sitting before a teacher. Eönwë gazed upon them with compassion and an understanding that went deeper than any of them could truly comprehend. Before he could speak, though, Derek gave him a shrewd look.

"Are ... are you the help that is coming?" he asked.

Eönwë gave him a slight smile. "No, Child. I am not. That help is still on its way. I’m here to make sure none of you Children... what’s the expression? Ah, yes. I’m here to make sure none of you screw up."

Several eyebrows rose. The Maia’s smile broadened, but Alex detected a glimmer of steel behind it and shivered involuntarily. Eönwë’s gaze fell on him. "There is nothing to fear, Child. As I said, we’re all friends here, or at least, we’re supposed to be. I’m afraid you Eldar have been so used to not allowing any of the Secondborn into your lives that you’ve forgotten what it means for them to be there. The time for going it alone, for shutting them out, is past. Daeron guessed rightly that it was no accident that of all the Mortals whom you know, these two were the ones who were with you when you found the message and saw what you saw."

"So what?" Alex demanded. "I told Ron I don’t need to be condescended to by anyone, least of all by this lot. And I certainly don’t appreciate you showing up and treating us like naughty children, telling us to play nicely or not at all." He ignored the gasps of dismay from the Elves as he focused on the Maia. "I meant what I said: Derek can do whatever he pleases, but I wash my hands of the lot of you. I’m leaving just as soon as I can pack my bags."

"That is, of course, your choice," Eönwë said gravely.

"And you’ll let us go, just like that?" Alex asked, giving him a disbelieving look.

"We cannot force you to stay, Artemus," the Maia replied. "You are free to leave at any time, you and Derek, both. No one will stop you."

"Your real name is Artemus?" Derek asked.

"Not now, Derek," Alex said through gritted teeth.

"You’ve been very quiet through all this, Derek," Eönwë said, giving the young Man a smile when the Mortal jerked slightly at the sound of his name. "Does Artemus speak for you as well?"

Derek frowned and shook his head. "No, not really. Oh, I’m as angry as he is about the way we’ve been given the brush-off when all we want to do is help, but, frankly, there’s nowhere else for me to go."

"You can always come home with me," Alex said softly.

"You mean join your Agency?" Derek shot back.

"No. I mean home to New Hampshire so you can meet my mom. I’ve already decided I’m resigning from the Agency."

"What about your assignment, though?" Derek countered.

"Amroth says he can supply me with all the necessary evidence to prove that the person the Agency knew as Ambrose Elwood is not the same as the person known as Ryan McKinley, and I can make it stick."

"And Farrell? What about him?"

"I should be able to discredit Farrell easily enough," Alex replied. "The point is, I’m through with it all and with Elf Academy. I’m tired of the Game and the games. I just want to be Alex and not Artemus. I just want a normal life."

"Good luck with that one," Derek said with a snort.

Alex hunched his shoulders, unconsciously pulling his hat down and did not see the sympathetic looks of the Elves or the Maia who then spoke to one of the Elves. "And have you nothing to say to this, Glorfindel?"

Alex turned to where Glorfindel was seated at the breakfast nook. The Elf sighed and stood, weaving his way around the others to stand before the two Mortals. "I’m sorry," he said quietly. "I’m afraid I...." He shook his head and sighed again. "Lord Eönwë is correct; you are both free to leave and no one will stop you." His entire stance was one of dejection.

Alex glanced at Derek who gave him a shrug. "It’s not that I want to leave," Alex said slowly, "it’s just that I resent being treated as if I were five. I may not be as ancient as you but I’m not a baby and neither is Derek."

"No, you are not," Eönwë said, speaking before Glorfindel could muster a reply. "You are all so very precious in ways you can never comprehend and each of you has gifts the others do not. Separately, you can do nothing, but together... well, I will leave it to you to decide on that." With that, he simply faded away, leaving behind the mingled scents of lavender and lovage.

For a long, tense moment, no one moved and the silence was thick on the ground. Finally, Glorfindel stirred, giving the two Mortals a puzzled look. "Gil told us you knew about Wild Lake. How....?"

"Hello! Internet?" Alex exclaimed, giving the Elf a disgusted look. "What century do you come from?"

At that, the tension broke and several of the Elves laughed. "Believe me, son, you don’t want to know," Amroth said and when Alex turned to look at him he winked.

When the laughter died down, Glorfindel gave Alex and Derek a more rueful look. "Perhaps we should forget this past hour ever happened and start over," he suggested, "that is, if you’re willing."

Now the Elves went still again, waiting for the Mortals’ answer. Alex and Derek stared at one another. Derek shrugged. "I’m game, but I’d hate to be the lone Mortal in a sea of Elves."

"There’s Zach," Alex said.

"But he didn’t see the magic pumpkins, Charlie Brown," Derek retorted with a grin.

"It’s the Great Pumpkin, you dolt," Alex shot back. He looked up at Glorfindel, who was still standing there, giving the Elf a quizzical look. "Does it make a difference that Derek and I saw the message but Zach didn’t?"

"Daeron thought it was significant and no coincidence that only you two, who don’t even know Quenya, could see the tengwar script carved on the pumpkins, while people like Zach, Shane and Jud, who are quite conversant with the language, never saw them. As much as I would like to deny it, he’s right, and I learned long ago that there’s no such thing as coincidence in this universe. If you were meant to see those pumpkins as we saw them, then there is a reason for it."

"Do you think if we went back they’ll still be there?" Derek asked.

"Doubtful," Daeron said.

"Zach told Alex and me that when he saw the flyer for the enchanted pumpkins event, his first thought was of you, Loren," Vorondur said. "I suspect someone inspired him to bring the flyer to us."

"So were there really pumpkins carved in Quenya, or are we all victims of a mass hallucination?" Elrohir asked.

"Does it matter?" Glorfindel retorted. "The Valar are quite capable of manipulating reality to suit themselves. That others never noticed the Quenya means that most likely they saw what really was there while we were given a collective vision."

"I wonder why they sent the message that way, though, instead of just having one of the Maiar do it?" Alphwen said.

"Well, that would be boring, wouldn’t it?" Alex said with a sly grin and the others all laughed in agreement.

"So, what do you want to do?" Glorfindel asked Alex, getting back to the original subject.

Alex sighed. "I honestly don’t know anymore. So much has happened to me, so much that is just plain weird. I don’t know if I’m coming or going."

Vorondur leaned over from where he was seated next to Alex, patting him on the arm. "All that has happened to you has been on purpose."

"What do you mean?" Alex demanded.

"I mean, you’ve been broken down and reshaped. You’ve gone from Artemus to Alex. Nothing that has happened to you has been by chance."

"You mean I was meant to almost get myself killed last week?" Alex asked.

"No. I mean, the events that have occurred have slowly destroyed your worldview and everything you knew and believed about yourself. You, more than any other Mortal here, has had to be... reforged, I think would be the best way to describe it. The Artemus part of you, the part you equate with being bad, was a large part of your psyche, but I told you that it was a necessary and vital part that cannot be safely ignored or dismissed. At the same time, the Alex part of you, the part that yearns for a normal life away from the Game and the games, as you put it, is breaking out. In some ways, Artemus had to die before Alex could be born."

"Like drowning in the tarn," Alex said, looking thoughtful.

"But only that part of you that needs to die," Vorondur said. "The part that is skeptical, suspicious and unwilling to see the universe as full of wonder and what is erroneously called magic. The skills and knowledge that Artemus brings are important, not only for you, but for us as well. The two personae need to be integrated if you are to be whole, but as anyone here will tell you, forging steel is a long, drawn-out process and the metal that is so forged undergoes a great deal of painful transformation. And that is as true for any of us as it is for a sword-in-the-making."

"Do you really want to go back to what you were, gwador?" Derek asked softly.

Alex stared at him and slowly shook his head. "No. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to."

"Then, for the foreseeable future," Glorfindel said, "perhaps you could just continue as you have. Get to know ‘Alex’ more. Who is he, anyway?"

"Just a name," Alex answered. "The persona behind it was a sociopath with a penchant for blowing things up." He gave them a grimace. "Except for the blowing things up part, I really didn’t like him all that much."

There were chuckles all around.

"So why did you choose the name?" Derek asked.

Alex shrugged. "I created the persona and the name after Ambrose… er… died, so I knew he wouldn’t recognize it as belonging to me."

"Well, the question still remains: what do you want to do? What do you both want to do?" Glorfindel asked.

"I’d like to see this through," Derek said. "I’m actually looking forward to being an Elf Guide. What happens after that…." He shrugged.

"And you, Alex? What do you want to do?" Vorondur asked.

For a moment, Alex didn’t answer, staring at the floor, a slight frown on his face as if he were in deep thought. Finally, he looked up at Vorondur. "Can you help me to… to integrate Artemus and Alex?"

"I can try, but most of the work has to come from you," Vorondur replied. "If you’re willing to do what needs to be done, I’m willing to help in any way I can. We all are." The other Elves nodded.

Alex licked his lips. "Then, I’m willing to stick around… for a little while longer. I don’t know if I actually want to be a Christmas Elf but I’ll stay long enough to deal with Farrell and the Agency so you’re left alone in the future. After that, we’ll have to see."

"Then, let us just take it one step at a time," Glorfindel said. "So are you two up for a camping trip?"

"You mean to Wild Lake?" Derek asked.

Glorfindel nodded. "We were finalizing our plans when everything went pear-shape between us," he replied with a wry smile.

"We don’t have much in the way of camping gear except sleeping bags," Alex pointed out.

"We’ll supply whatever you don’t have," Glorfindel said. "We plan to leave tomorrow night around six. We may only be there for a day or so, certainly no later than Wednesday night. The message is just vague enough that we’re not entirely sure which day is meant."

"Gee, that means we’ll miss Halloween," Derek said with a sigh. "And I was looking forward to dressing up and going trick-or-treating."

"Aren’t you a bit old for that?" Alex asked with a laugh.

Derek gave him a haughty look. "Speak for yourself, mate. As far as I’m concerned, you’re never too old to go begging for candy."

"And what were you planning to go as?" Vorondur asked with an amused look on his face.

"Well, actually, I was thinking of going as Popeye," Derek said.

"Nah…" Alex retorted, giving him a shake of the head. "You’re too tall. You should go as Olive Oyl instead."

There were chuckles from the Elves. Derek gave Alex a sly smile. "Well only if you dress up as Swee’Pee."

"No way!" Alex protested. "You’re never going to catch me wearing that stupid nightgown. Maybe I’ll come as Bluto."

Derek gave him a surprised look. "You want to come as a dog?"

"Bluto, not Pluto, you dimwit. You know, Popeye’s nemesis."

"Why don’t you just go as Elves?" Elrohir suggested before Derek could retort. "We’ll even supply the ears."

Alex and Derek looked at each other and nodded, then Alex gave Glorfindel a winning smile. "Can we carry swords?"

"NO!" came the reply from more than one throat.

"Jeesh! I was just asking. Anyway, whoever heard of a bald Elf?"

"Well as amusing as this discussion has been, we need to finish finalizing our plans," Glorfindel said. "So, Derek, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until next year to go trick-or-treating."

"I guess," Derek said with a sigh that was clearly feigned. Then he perked up as a thought crossed his mind, "Hey! Do you think whoever’s coming will bring candy?"

Alex groaned and rolled his eyes, punching him on the arm. Derek stuck his tongue out at him, while the Elves just shook their heads at their antics as they began working out the logistics of camping at Wild Lake.

53: Rendevous at Wild Lake

"You’re bringing swords?" Alex asked in disbelief as he and Derek watched Elrohir and Elladan pull out several swords from their scabbards to examine them.

"Loren wishes us to be fully armed," Elladan replied in a distracted voice as he bent over one of the blades, running a practiced finger down its length as he checked for nicks and rust, though to the Mortals’ eyes, the sword looked pristine and beautiful in a deadly sort of way. Alex wondered idly how old these swords were and decided he really didn’t want to know.

"But swords?" he persisted.

Elrohir gave him an amused glance. "Too anachronistic?"

"Well, duh!"

The Twins laughed and went back to their examination, and the two Mortals were left to fend for themselves. All around them the Elves were busy with their preparations. There was no hurry or even a sense of excitement among them; their pace was deliberate and their voices low. Alex and Derek had offered to help, but in truth, there was very little either of them could do; the Elves had everything under control. Finally, Alex decided he and Derek should make their own preparations and bid the Elves farewell.

"We’ll come back tomorrow around five-thirty," Alex told Glorfindel, "after we’ve had an early dinner. I’m not bothering with archery tomorrow even though Dr. Harris says it’s okay. I’ll be busy with other stuff."

"And what other stuff would that be?" Glorfindel asked.

"Stuff personal to me," Alex said and Glorfindel had the grace to blush and utter an apology.

"We’ll see you tomorrow then," he said as he saw them out the door. "If there are any changes to our plans, Gil or Ron will let you know."

The two Mortals nodded and headed for Alex’s car and drove off.

****

"What’s all this?" Derek asked.

It was Monday after lunch and he’d returned from using the bathroom to find Alex hooking up what looked to be a printer to his laptop.

"You’ll see in a moment," Alex said as he finished with the connections and then turned on the computer. "Here, come over here and clear a space on your desk and then sit. I want to take your picture."

"Huh?"

"Just do it," Alex said, giving him a grin. "You’re about to enter the seamy world of spies, my boy."

Derek shrugged and did as he was bid and sat as Alex directed him. Alex, meanwhile, was plugging in a mini-camera that he had mounted on the top of his laptop, then he sat and fiddled with the keyboard. "Okay. Hold still and don’t smile."

There was a flash that set Derek blinking and Alex nodded. "Good. All set."

"What exactly are you doing, and why?"

"I’m giving you a new identity," Alex said, giving him a smile over the laptop. "Something tells me we shouldn’t go on this little jaunt with the Elves as ourselves."

"Well, you won’t be going as yourself anyway," Derek shot back. "How many fake IDs do you have?"

"None," Alex said somewhat distractedly as he manipulated a software program that allowed him to create credible identification papers. "Every one of my personae is absolutely legitimate. If anyone ever did a search for Alex Grant they would have a whole ton of information about him with all the appropriate records, like birth certificates, school records and the like."

"So what are you doing here?"

"I’m creating a couple of IDs for one use only," Alex said. "When this is over with, you are to discard these, burn them if you can. Do not, under any circumstances, keep them, even as souvenirs." There was no levity in his voice and Derek nodded, suitably impressed.

"Okay, now for a name. Any ideas and make it reasonable and unmemorable."

"Well, I always liked Sam," Derek said. "I had a best friend in school named Sam."

"Fine. Samuel what?"

"Hmmm.... does it really matter? Just pick a last name."

"Samuel Donne."

"Who?"

"Donne, the English poet. He’s one of my mom’s favorites."

"Never heard of him."

"Figures."

"Who are you going as?"

"Gary Martin."

"Any particular reason why?"

"No. I usually choose names that use the same initials as my real name."

"Speaking of which...."

"Not now, Sam," Alex said. "If you value your life, you will forget you ever heard the name Artemus, and I’m not being funny. I mean it truly. That name is dangerous and knowing it puts you in danger. So, forget it."

"Okay, it’s forgotten... Gary."

Alex looked up from what he was doing and gave his roommate a smile.

****

When they got to Edhellond, they found every vehicle owned by the Elves out front being loaded up with supplies. As they climbed out of the car, Gilvegil greeted them. "You have room in your trunk for a couple of coolers?"

"Yeah, no problem. I’ll open it up," Alex said and did just that. Gilvegil brought a small cooler over and glanced into the trunk.

"Fishing gear?" he asked.

"Hey! We’re going to a lake," Alex retorted. "Freshly caught fish for breakfast... nothing like it."

Gilvegil chuckled, nodding in agreement as Cennanion came over with another cooler.

"Why all the cars?" Derek asked as Alex closed the trunk.

"We have no idea who is coming or how many, so we’re bringing all the cars just in case."

"Let’s hope we can fit everyone, then, or we’ll have to tie some down on the roof," Alex quipped and the two Elves laughed.

"You’re to follow behind Ron’s car, that one over there," Gilvegil said, pointing. "We’ll be leaving in about fifteen minutes so if you need to use the bathroom, now’s the time. We won’t stop until we reach the lake. Loren estimates that it’ll take us about five hours."

"That’s cutting it close," Derek said.

"Yes, however, we have the feeling that tonight will not be the night, but it’s best to be there just in case."

"And if it is tonight, then all of this will go to waste." Alex said, pointing to the supplies being loaded into the various cars.

"No. Loren’s decided we’ll camp out for a time even after whoever we’re meeting shows up. So, plan on camping out for at least one night and more likely two."

"Or three," Alex said. "Okay. We brought enough changes of clothes and all so there’re no worries there. I’m going to use the bathroom. I’ll be right out."

****

They didn’t all leave at once. Glorfindel left in his van accompanied by Daeron, then after a minute, another car pulled out driven by Elladan with his brother next to him. Alex noted that Elladan turned left instead of right as Glorfindel had. Vorondur came over to their car and Alex opened the window on his side.

"Follow me but don’t make it obvious," the Elf said.

"Hey! This is me, remember?" Alex said with feigned affront and Vorondur smiled before heading for his own car where Cennanion waited for him. Gilvegil and Barahir would be driving together. Standing at the front door of the mansion was Amroth with his arm around Nimrodel while the other ellith stood on either side of them. They all waved and Alex and Derek waved back as Alex pulled up behind Vorondur’s car, noting that the Elf turned right instead of left as Vorondur drove away.

"They’re taking different routes," he muttered, more to himself than to Derek. He waited for a count of five before putting the car in gear and following Vorondur, who was driving slowly enough so they could see that he was turning right three blocks ahead of them. Looking into the rearview mirror, Alex saw the last car pulling out and heading away from them and nodded.

"Well, we’re on our way," he said unnecessarily and Derek just nodded.

The route Vorondur took was somewhat serpentine but eventually Alex saw that they were now making their way north and then west, eventually reaching the road, more of a dirt track than anything, that would lead to Wild Lake, unsurprised to find some of the other vehicles waiting for them, parked on the side of the road. Just as they came abreast of the parked cars, Alex saw the car driven by Gilvegil coming up behind them and Glorfindel set off. Alex stayed directly behind Vorondur as they wound their way through the mountains towards the lake. They did not go fast, for the road twisted and turned and there was a great deal of jostling as they headed further and further into the Brooks Mountain range.

The two Mortals drove in silence, Alex concentrating on avoiding the ruts on the road. Derek just stared out the window, softly humming to himself as the miles and the hours crept by. "Are we going to have enough gas to get back?" Derek asked after they’d been driving for nearly three hours.

"Hopefully," Alex said as he kept his eyes on the road. "I get pretty good mileage from this car, but even so...."

"Not that we can do anything about it now," Derek said. Alex grunted in agreement and they lapsed back into silence.

It was nearly 11:15 by the time they made it to the lake. The road, which had wound its way past dark pine trees looking ghostly and alien in the light of the headlights, suddenly disappeared and they were in an open field with the lake directly before them. Glorfindel made a right turn, hugging the border of the woods and then stopped about fifty feet from where they’d entered and killed the lights and the engine. Alex brought his car close to Vorondur’s and did the same. The two Men undid their safety belts and opened the doors, climbing out with groans at the stiffness of their muscles. Alex noted sourly that the Elves seemed unaffected by the long drive and were moving about with alacrity. Glorfindel was issuing orders in rapid-fire Sindarin. None of the Elves bothered with flashlights, but Alex reached in the back of the car and pulled out a couple for himself and Derek. Barahir came up to them.

"If you’re up to it, you can help me set up your tent," he said and the two Men nodded and in a short while they had the tent up.

"So where are the other tents?" Derek asked, looking around.

"This is the only one," Barahir replied.

"So where are you guys going to sleep? In the cars?"

Barahir grinned. "We’re Elves, Derek. We’ll sleep, if we even bother to, under the stars. I think Gil and Conan have already staked out their trees."

"You’re sleeping in the trees?" Alex asked. "Isn’t that uncomfortable?"

"Not to mention cold," Derek added.

Barahir just shrugged. "I guess you have to be an Elf to appreciate it."

"Apparently," Alex said and they left it at that.

Someone had constructed a fire pit as they were setting up the tent and a bright fire was blazing in the darkness. They sat around the fire warming themselves against the night. Gilvegil had heated some water in a kettle and they all had mugs of instant coffee or tea in their hands.

"We’ll move the cars tomorrow so they are out of sight," Glorfindel told them, taking a sip from his mug. "There’s a cut-off about a half-mile back the way we came, an old logger’s road. We can put the cars there until we need them. They’ll be invisible from the air."

"Do you think they’ll come tonight?" Derek asked but Glorfindel shook his head.

"I doubt it, but given that it’s Halloween and this time of year is traditionally when the wall between the worlds is supposed to be thin, I felt it wise to be here just in case. My guess is that whoever is coming will be here tomorrow night, but that’s only a guess."

"So what do we do in the meantime?" Alex asked.

"In the meantime, we enjoy a day or two of camping," Glorfindel replied. "Well it’s past midnight and it was a long drive. You two should get some sleep. We’ll take watches for what’s left of the night."

"Watches?" Derek asked. "What do you think is going to attack us out here, ninja squirrels?"

The Elves chuckled. "No, but we’re taking no chances," Glorfindel said. "That’s why we brought weapons."

"Yeah, swords," Alex said with a disdainful sniff. "Give me a .45 automatic any day of the week."

"Somehow the image of gun-toting Elves really doesn’t do it for me," Derek said.

The Elves all laughed and bid the Mortals a good night. In minutes, they were nestled in their sleeping bags falling asleep to the sound of Daeron softly singing.

****

As early as Alex woke in the morning, the Elves were already up and about, assuming they’d even slept. He mumbled a good morning to Glorfindel and Elrohir as he stumbled towards the line of trees that had been designated as the latrines and was pleasantly surprised to see that someone had even set up a portable washstand with a mirror so he was able to clean himself afterwards. By the time he stumbled back to the fire, Derek was awake.

"Did you guys sleep at all?" Alex asked the Elves as Elrohir handed him a mug of coffee.

"We all slept well over the weekend," Elrohir answered. "We can go for days without true sleep."

"Lucky you," Alex mumbled as he accepted some bread that Glorfindel had toasted over the fire. "So, what’s the plan for the day?"

"How about you and I have our next session?"

Alex turned to see Vorondur approaching them.

"Here? Now?"

Vorondur shrugged. "Why not? We’ll take a walk along the lake. No one will disturb us."

"I guess, but after breakfast," Alex said.

"Take your time; we have all day," Vorondur said.

Half an hour later, he and Alex left the camp to walk along the lakeshore. Derek sat beside the fire feeling a bit abandoned, for most of the Elves had disappeared into the woods once all the cars had been moved out of sight. He looked up when Elladan came towards him, carrying a bow with a quiver.

"Roy and I are going hunting," the Elf told him. "Care to come along?"

Derek nodded gratefully and in minutes the campsite was deserted except for Daeron, who sat before the fire strumming one of his harps.

****

The day passed slowly. Alex ended up actually taking a nap in the afternoon, feeling emotionally wrung out after his session with Vorondur which had lasted far longer than either had anticipated. Derek came back with the Twins flushed with excitement at having seen a bald eagle and a herd of deer. He and the Twins returned with several hares they had caught and they spent part of the afternoon skinning them and readying them for the pot as Daeron said he would make rabbit stew for dinner.

As the night drew on, the other Elves returned to the camp, quietly eating the stew, most of them not in the mood for talking. The two Mortals took their cue from them and ate in silence as well. After everyone had eaten, Glorfindel ordered the Elves to spread out along the lake, taking up certain positions that allowed them to see in all directions, for none knew from which quarter the help would arrive. He had Alex and Derek stay by the fire to keep it going, for the night was chill and there was the feeling of snow in the air.

"It’ll snow by morning," Glorfindel said to them.

Yet, for now, the sky was clear of clouds and the stars sparkled brilliantly above them. Time seemed to creep along and the Mortals occupied themselves with playing twenty questions or practicing their Sindarin with one another. At one point Derek happened to look up into the heavens and frowned, pointing to the northwest.

"Is that a satellite?"

"Where?" Alex asked, craning his neck.

"There at about eleven o’clock. It’s too high up to be a plane and it’s moving at a good clip."

Alex stood up, shading his eyes against the fire glow so he had a better view and nodded. "Yeah, it must be a satellite, but...." He paused, unsure as to what he was seeing. "I think it’s falling."

"What?" Derek exclaimed, rising to stand next to him.

"Yeah, look. It’s getting larger and it’s.... it’s heading straight for us. Loren! Loren!" Alex started running south to where Glorfindel had stationed himself. Derek was right behind him.

"Easy now," they heard Glorfindel say in a calm voice as the two Men stumbled towards him. "There’s no need to panic. Come. We’ll return to the fire."

"What is it?" Alex asked. "What’s coming?"

"We’ll see soon enough," Glorfindel said as he headed back to the camp with the Mortals trailing him. Others were also returning from where they’d been stationed, looking up at the object approaching. It was still nothing more than a very bright looking star that was slowly drawing closer but in a matter of minutes, even Alex and Derek could see what it was.

"Lord above! It’s a ship," Derek exclaimed.

"It’s Vingilot," Glorfindel said calmly. Then he turned to the Twins with a smile. "I think you’re about to meet your Grandfather."

"Is that singing?" Alex asked, not paying attention to what Glorfindel was saying, his gaze fixed on the approaching ship.

For a moment, they listened to the sound of voices singing high above them, becoming louder and more distinct as the ship came nearer. Alex realized he was hearing Sindarin but only caught a word or two. Then, to the Mortals’ utter astonishment, all the Elves around them broke into song and the night was filled with their ethereal voices even as Vingilot sailed before them, shining brightly.

54: A Tense Moment

For as long as he lived, Alex knew he would never forget this night. He stood there with his mouth gaping and his eyes wide at the most incredible sight: a ship, one that should have been sailing the oceans instead of the Heavens, seemingly made of glass or some transparent material, its main mast devoid of sails but from it suspended a large lantern and what lay inside....

The light was almost too bright for him and he heard Derek gasp, almost in pain, the two of them forced to slit their eyes against the brilliance of the light. It was as if a miniature sun had settled above the lake.

But as marvelous as the ship was, it was the person standing at the prow who caught Alex’s attention the most. He had golden-silver hair braided with what appeared to be emeralds and sapphires, though it was hard to tell for sure. He wore a tunic of deep blue silk and an overrobe open in the front of silver-grey that shimmered like mist over water. On his head he wore a diadem intricately shaped like leaves with a single emerald in its center and in his hands he carried a harp.

The ship came to rest to the north of the camp, close to the woods, not quite touching the ground. Several figures leaped over the sides carrying ropes, wrapping them around nearby tree trunks to secure the ship. Then, they saw someone wave and Glorfindel led the procession. Alex felt a great reluctance fall over him all of a sudden and he noticed that Derek also hung back, as if unsure about intruding. Both of them still had to shade their eyes against the light and there was a purity to it that was almost frightening and Alex had a sense that mere Mortals were never meant to see that light, at least not in the flesh.

And he had something else to worry about.

"I wonder if anyone else saw this," he whispered to Derek as they stood several feet from where the Elves were gathered, joyously greeting those who were leaving the ship. He saw the person who’d been standing on the prow jump easily onto the ground and fling his arms wide open and Glorfindel rushing eagerly into his embrace. Obviously, this was someone dear to the Elf-lord.

"You mean anyone who happened to be out at midnight and just happened to be looking up at the right moment and in the right direction?"

"I mean the military. I don’t think that ship was flying under the radar. The boys at NORAD would have been tracking it as soon as it showed up."

"Assuming it would show up on any radar," Derek pointed out. "Surely whoever sent this ship would’ve thought of that."

"Do you think?" Alex asked. "Maybe yes, maybe no, but I wouldn’t hold my breath on it. That ship is too damn visible. And that singing."

"What was wrong with the singing? I thought it was beautiful."

"I just think they should have been a little quieter and less noticeable, is all. It’s as if they wanted everyone to know they were here. As it is, every one of them is here illegally and we will have a good time hiding that fact until we can secure them the necessary documents to prove that they all were born here in the United States and not somewhere in fairyland."

Derek snorted in amusement. Before he could comment, though, Barahir came, gesturing for them to follow him. "Come and meet our friends," he said.

"You need to get that ship out of here," Alex said. "It’s too dangerous for it to be here."

"Eärendil will be leaving soon enough," the Elf said, "but come and meet him. You will be the first Mortals to lay eyes on him since he left these lands for Valinor."

"Is there any way to turn off the light show?" Derek complained as he and Alex started to follow Barahir. "I can barely see where I’m going and it hurts my eyes."

"Sorry. I forgot you wouldn’t be able to endure the light of the silmaril as easily as we. Stay here and I’ll see what can be done." They watched him lope away and consult with Glorfindel and those from the ship. A moment later, the light lessened as someone covered the lantern and the two Mortals sighed in relief almost as one. Then Barahir returned, taking them by the hands and leading them into the midst of the Elves, who parted to let them through until they were standing before Glorfindel and the one who’d greeted him so joyously.

Glorfindel gave them an encouraging smile, gesturing for them to come nearer, speaking softly to the other Elf before addressing the Mortals. "Alex, Derek, this is Finrod," he said simply, nodding to his friend. "I told him you haven’t quite mastered Sindarin yet."

Alex just stood there staring, feeling suddenly shy, automatically reaching up to make sure his hat was still on his head, but Derek was a little braver, giving Finrod a short bow. "M-mae govannen, hir nîn."

And Finrod, Prince of Eldamar, once King of Nargothrond, smiled. "A star shineth upon the hour of our meeting," he said in passable, though stilted English. "Ye are welcome unto me. My gwador speaketh well of you and I am fain to know you both better."

"Ah, yeah, thanks," Derek said hesitantly. "Ah, Loren, why does your friend speak as if he’s auditioning for Romeo and Juliet?"

Glorfindel shot him a hard look, then spoke in rapid Quenya to which Finrod replied, looking doubtful. Glorfindel sighed and shook his head, saying something else. Alex noticed that Vorondur, more conversant with Quenya than the Sindarin Elves, was smiling hugely and made a comment that made Glorfindel roll his eyes, while Finrod merely shrugged and smiled, turning his attention back to Alex and Derek.

"It seemeth that my Lords Ulmo and Aulë, who were responsible for teaching us your language, neglected to…um… provide us with the most current forms of speech."

"Neglected or simply decided to have fun at your expense," Glorfindel said darkly.

Finrod just shrugged. "It matters little now, but I would fain have ye teach me… teach us the proper manner of your speech that we may blend in better."

"Blend in," Alex said, speaking for the first time, giving them a slight sneer. "Now there’s a trick. If you wanted to blend in, you’ve gone about it all the wrong way."

"Show some respect, Alex," Glorfindel said sharply. "Finrod…."

"Can speak for himself, gwador," the Elven prince interjected mildly. "Thou’rt concerned," he said to Alex who nodded.

"Between that ship outshining everything in the sky and you all singing at the top of your voices, if you wanted to make a quiet entrance, that’s not how you go about it. If the boys at NORAD picked you up on radar, we may be in real trouble."

"I do not understand why younglings from this norad, wherever that might be, would be a concern."

"We need to get you up to speed on English slang, mellon nîn," Glorfindel said with a brittle smile. "Alex means that the military might be interested in checking out the bright lights that came down to Earth, and he’s correct. We need to get this ship out of here."

"That may be a problem. Look!" Derek said and he pointed to the northwest where, far in the distance, they saw what appeared to be search beams as something came towards them.

Without a word, Alex ran to the camp, entering his tent and then coming out a minute later with binoculars that had night vision capabilities. He took several minutes looking through them, then, ran back to the ship.

"Apaches. Two of them and they looked to be armed," he said breathlessly. "At the speed they’re going, they’ll be here in about twenty minutes."

"That doesn’t give us much time," Glorfindel acknowledged.

"Can this thing float on water?" Alex asked Finrod.

"Yes, it can."

"Then, if you hurry, there’s an inlet just south of here with trees overhanging the shore. If you can get the ship there and hide it, we might have a chance. Everyone else needs to run to the woods and stay there. Derek and I will handle this."

"Oh? And just how do you plan to do that?" Glorfindel asked, giving them a skeptical look.

"And while you’re standing here arguing with me, those Apaches are coming closer," Alex retorted with heavy sarcasm, ignoring the question. "So why don’t we all just stand around and wait for them and invite them to our party? I’m sure they’d love to join in our sing-along by the campfire."

Before Glorfindel could respond, Finrod spoke rapidly in Sindarin, apparently issuing orders, for immediately people were running to the guy ropes and loosening them. The ship floated upward a few feet before turning toward the lake with everyone ducking. They watched for a moment or two as it made its way southward, disappearing behind a bend of the shore. Then, everyone else started picking up all the luggage that had been thrown to the ground while people were talking and headed towards the woods until only he, Glorfindel and the two Mortals remained.

"You sure about this?" Glorfindel asked.

"Hey! This is me," Alex said. "The day I can’t bamboozle my way out of a sticky situation is the day I hang up my hat and retire from the Game. Now, get out of here and don’t show yourselves until I give you the all-clear."

"Come, gwador," Finrod said, taking hold of Glorfindel’s arm. "Let us hence whilst these two do what is needful."

Glorfindel nodded reluctantly and allowed himself to be led away. By this time, the choppers were close enough that they could hear the chuff-chuff of the rotors. Alex turned to Derek as they headed back to camp. "You got that ID on you, Sam?"

"Yeah… Gary," he said. "So what’s the plan?"

"We’re going fishing," Alex replied.

"Huh?"

"Just follow my lead and don’t under any circumstance volunteer any information. Make them ask the questions and only give them the information they ask for, nothing more, nothing less and nothing else. Got it?"

"Got it."

They reached the campsite and grabbed the fishing gear, reaching the lake and casting their lines seconds before the search beam on the lead helicopter hit the water, illuminating the lake and the surrounding area. Neither had to fake wincing as the light surrounded them, forcing them to hold a hand up to their faces to shield their eyes. One of the choppers swung around to do a sweep of the area while the other came closer, finally settling down halfway between the woods and the lake. They saw a figure jump out and head their way even as the second chopper came around and landed nearby. Someone jumped out and joined the first person as they approached Alex and Derek. As they got closer, Alex could see that the two men were armed.

"Who are you?" one of the men shouted, for the chopper blades were still on.

"WHAT?" Alex shouted, cupping his ears.

"Who are you?" the man repeated.

"WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU," Alex shouted again, speaking slowly and pointing to his right ear.

The man grimaced and turned to look at the choppers, making a slicing motion across his neck. In seconds the rotors were slowing down, whining as they stuttered to a halt and silence fell heavily across the night. The man turned back to Alex and Derek.

"Who are you?" he asked a third time.

"Who are you?" Alex demanded. "And what the blue blazes are you doing disturbing us? Do you know you’ve frightened all the fish? I can’t believe it! Three years. Three years I’ve saved up for this trip and you bozos come and ruin it."

"Let’s see some ID," his partner ordered, stepping closer, a hand on his holster.

"Excuse me?" Alex said, not exactly feigning anger. "The last time I looked, we were still under civilian rule, so unless martial law's been declared since we’ve been out here, back off!"

Surprisingly the man did just that.

"Look," the first man said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Let’s start over. I’m Colonel Bracton out of NORAD and this is Lieutenant Keyes. Could I see some ID please?"

Alex made a great show of reluctance as he fished out his wallet, muttering imprecations as he shoved it in Bracton’s hand, while Derek gave his to the lieutenant. The two men pulled out flashlights and took a moment to read the names.

"Samuel Don?" Keyes asked dubiously.

"That’s ‘dun’, like the poet," Derek said sagely. Alex had a hard time trying not to smile.

"And you’re Gary Martin?" Bracton asked.

"If that’s what it says, then that’s who I am," Alex retorted.

"And why are you out here?" Bracton asked, handing back Alex’s wallet.

"Hello! Night fishing? Ever hear of it?"

"Do you have a permit to fish, Mr. Martin? This is a national park, after all."

Alex sneered as he reached down and opened the tackle box that was next to him and pulled out a plastic envelope inside which could be seen a document. Bracton glanced at it, then nodded, giving it back to Alex.

"We’re investigating some strange lights that apparently made their way here," Bracton said. "Surely you saw them?"

"Mister, I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, but the only strange things I’ve seen tonight are you guys," Alex retorted.

Bracton grimaced and Keyes gave them a dirty look.

"A little more respect, Mr. Martin, please," Bracton said.

"Respect? Respect?" Alex nearly shouted, pulling off his hat. "You see this? Two years of chemo and radiation therapy and I’m finally in remission. I’ve been planning this trip since the day I was diagnosed and I’ll be damned if I’m going to have a couple of jumped-up soldier boys ruin it for me. We didn’t see any lights, except yours, so go back to wherever you crawled out of and leave us the hell alone!"

Bracton actually seemed to pale, though it was difficult to tell in the half-light of flashlights, but he stammered a quick apology, pulling Keyes away and two minutes later the choppers were revving up and flying off. Alex and Derek stood there watching them, not moving until the choppers were some miles to the north, the sound of their rotors fading in the distance. Finally, Derek turned to Alex.

"Man, you were awesome," he said.

"Comes with practice," Alex said with a grin, then turned towards the woods and called out, "All right, you can come out now."

A minute later the camp was full of Elves all trying to speak at once, none of them in English. Finally, Finrod held up a hand and silence fell immediately. "’Twas a marvel to listen to thee confront those warriors," he said. "Thou didst not show them any fear."

"Actually, I was shaking in my boots," Alex admitted, shoving his hat back on his head, "but this isn’t the first time I’ve had to fast-talk my way out of a situation." Suddenly, he felt drained and nearly stumbled when he bent down to retrieve his fishing rod and tackle. Finrod took him by the elbow and led him to the fire, speaking softly to Glorfindel, who poured some coffee into a mug and handed it to the Mortal who took it gratefully. Everyone else gathered around in respectful silence. Alex glanced up to see Derek standing nearby looking concerned.

"I think I overdid it a bit," Alex said. Then he put the mug down and reached back to pull out his wallet. "Derek, let me have that ID," he said, even as he was pulling out the fake license from his own wallet. Derek did the same with his and handed it to him and Alex threw them both into the fire.

"Where did you get the fake ID, Mr. Martin?" Glorfindel asked with a smile.

Alex smiled back. "I have my methods, Watson." And the Wiseman Elves all laughed, while Finrod and his companions looked on in bemusement.

"Thou gavest them a false name," Finrod said. "How didst thou know?"

Alex shrugged. "I didn’t, but something told me I had better prepare for such an eventuality. Whoever planned your trip did a poor job of it. You all are here quite illegally, and until we can procure the proper documents to show that you are good, law-abiding, tax-paying citizens of the United States of America, you need to lie low. Coming in as you did, I’m not surprised the military was alerted. Now, I know you had planned to camp out here for another day or so, Loren, but we need to get going. When Bracton returns to base, the first thing he’s going to do is check to see if Gary Martin and Sam Donne are who they say they are. Once they realize no such persons exist, they’ll be back and we’d better not be here when they come."

"Thine young friend speaketh wisely, gwador," Finrod said.

"Unfortunately," Glorfindel admitted.

"So, we need to let Grandfather know that it’s safe for him to leave," Elladan said.

"Ron, you, Barry, Gil and Conan go and bring our cars up," Glorfindel ordered, fishing out a set of keys from his pocket and handing them to Vorondur. Alex did the same, handing his keys to Barahir. "Darren, would you strike the camp and get everything ready to be loaded? Alex, are you up to a little jaunt? I think you should come and meet Eärendil, you and Derek both."

"Sure. I’m okay," Alex said, standing up. "I’m not sure what came over me."

"Adrenalin," Derek said knowingly.

"I guess," Alex said with a shrug.

"All right, then, let’s go," Glorfindel said and the two Mortals found themselves in the midst of the Elves as they headed south to where Eärendil had hidden the ship.

55: The Ride Back to Wiseman

Alex and Derek found that they had no need for flashlights as they crossed the dark fields to where Vingilot was hidden, for the Elves provided them with enough light to see by. Alex noticed that the glow from Glorfindel and the Twins seemed dimmer, more golden, than the glow from Finrod and his companions and wondered if that was because they had lived so long among Mortals. He glanced at those surrounding him and Derek. They were all so beautiful, and unearthly, more so than Glorfindel or the other Wiseman Elves, as he was beginning to call them to differentiate them from those of Valinor. There were even some ellith among them and he couldn’t help noticing how Glorfindel kept looking at one particular elleth, frowning slightly, as if he was trying to place her in his memory. The elleth seemed oblivious to the Elf-lord’s scrutiny, looking about with unfeigned interest at the landscape.

They reached the woods fronting the inlet and now the Mortals had to work their way through the tangle of underbrush. The Elves, Alex noted sourly, seemed to glide through it as if it didn’t even exist. At last, though, they reached the inlet and saw the ship sitting dark upon the water; the silmaril had been completely covered. At their approach, though, a normal lantern was lit and for the first time Alex was able to see those who had remained on the ship. There were four ellyn but it was one in particular who caught Alex’s attention and he had no doubt this must be Eärendil, for, unlike the other three ellyn, this one had golden hair and, as simply as he was dressed, there was an aura about him that spoke of ancient authority. Beyond that, the Twins immediately began speaking to him and Alex recognized the words ‘daerada’ and ‘daerion’, if nothing else that was said between them.

Everyone else kept a respectful distance, allowing the Twins to visit with their grandfather whom they had never met, exchanging news of family and friends. After a few minutes though, Elrohir turned to Alex, gesturing to him. "Come and meet your grandfather, Nephew," he said in English.

"Whoa! How is he your grandfather?" Derek demanded. "And nephew? Since when?"

"I’ll explain later," Alex said distractedly as he started to join the Twins.

"You mean you really are related? Hey! That’s not fair. Why do you get to be related to Elves? Why do you always have to be so special?"

Alex turned a surprised and hurt look at Derek. "Do you think I planned this? Believe me, I really wish I weren’t related to anyone, least of all to this lot. And I am no more special than you are, so get over yourself."

"Fine," Derek said with a huff. "Go visit with grandpa. See if I care." With that, he started to turn away, apparently ready to leave them all and return to the camp, but Finrod stayed him, offering him a sympathetic smile which caused Derek to blush.

"Glorfindel hath told me that thou hast declared thyself gwador unto Alex and he hath declared himself also as thy gwador. Is this not true?" Derek nodded, not quite looking at the Elf Prince. "Dost not know that to be gwedyr is of more import amongst us than to be blood kin to this person or that, Child?" Finrod continued gently. "Blood betrayeth blood, but gwedyr remain true to themselves and to each other, and that maketh thee very special indeed."

Derek raised his eyes and, seeing the sincerity in the Elf’s eyes, nodded. "Sorry," he muttered and Finrod hugged him, kissing him on the forehead in benediction.

Alex, watching, held out his hand. "C’mon, gwador. Let’s meet grandpa together, shall we?"

Derek smiled shyly and joined Alex with the Twins and now Glorfindel also joined them, speaking to Eärendil, but in Quenya, rather than in Sindarin, and the two conversed for a moment or two before Eärendil turned his attention to Alex and Derek and spoke in Sindarin slowly and simply so that the Mortals could understand his words for the most part.

"Mae govannen, hín nîn," the Mariner said. "Anna enni ’lass le govedi."

"Ah... mae govannen... um... daeradar," Alex said somewhat shyly, then turned a stricken look at the Twins and Glorfindel. "I don’t know what else to say."

The Elves smiled and Elrohir put a comforting arm around Alex’s shoulders. "Why don’t I translate for you?"

Alex nodded gratefully and Elrohir spoke to Eärendil, apparently telling him about the arrangements and the Mariner smiled and spoke.

"I am glad to see that the descendants of my son, Elros, still thrive," Elrohir translated for him. "And you, Derek, though you may not have the blood of the Elves in you, I can see that you are also descended from my father’s people and that is a worthy heritage of which you may be proud."

"Ah... how can you tell?" Derek asked, looking bemused.

Eärendil smiled. "Blood speaks to blood, my son. Now, I fear we must cut this meeting short. Alex is correct that it is too dangerous for us to remain, so I will bid you farewell for now. Others may come but not immediately." He paused and gave them a wink. "And I will tell my Lord Manwë that he needs to rethink our method of approach if we are to avoid being attacked by the Mortals."

Glorfindel actually snickered. "Good luck with that," he said and Eärendil laughed, then began issuing orders. Finrod gabbled something and immediately the Twins began hauling Alex and Derek away. "You’re too close to the ship," Elladan explained when the two Mortals started to complain. "When the silmaril is unveiled you need to be further away or you could be incinerated. That light is too pure for you."

"I really have to wonder why we humans were ever created," Alex groused. "It seems we’re nothing but weaklings compared to you Elves."

"And yet, if what we have been told is true, a time will come when you will leave the circles of Arda and stand before Eru Ilúvatar Himself, the very Creator of us all, whose Light is even greater than any silmaril and that is something we Elves will never know," Elrohir pointed out.

They had passed back through the tangle of woods and were now in the fields heading to the camp when a brilliant light shone behind them. They stopped and turned in time to see the ship rising majestically into the heavens, bathing the land with a light that rivaled that of the sun with its purity. Vingilot swung lazily above the lake, spiraling ever higher as Eärendil brought it to face the west and then, more quickly than they were expecting, it became nothing more than a very bright star among all the others.

The Twins sighed almost as one. Glorfindel, Finrod and the other Elves came out of the woods and joined them. "Come," Glorfindel said. "Let’s get back to camp. I do not mean to drive all the way back to Wiseman tonight. I think it best if we come in under the cover of darkness. We’ll drive for about three hours and then camp. Are you all right for driving, Alex?"

"Sure," Alex said. "I took a nap this afternoon, so I’m good."

"Then, we’ll keep to the same order of driving as before, so you’ll be between Ron and Gil. If you need to stop for any reason, just flash your high beams and we’ll pull over."

"I notice, my brother, that thou dost name thy friends strangely," Finrod said.

"We all have what we call Mortal names," Glorfindel explained. "My Mortal name, for instance, is Loren DelaFiore. We have adopted such names over the years to better blend in with the humans who no longer believe in the existence of Elves. We’ll need to give all of you Mortal names as well."

"And identity papers," Alex added. "How have you guys managed to get them for yourselves?"

"Well, over the years, we’ve met quite a number of people with skills in forgery," Glorfindel replied with a smile. "Eventually we learned how to do it ourselves and these days with computers, it’s even easier. Darren’s figured out how to tap into the Bureau of Vital Statistics and.... um... add us to the records whenever necessary. We’ll do the same for Finrod and the others."

"It’s a good thing I’m on your side," Alex said with a grin. "As an agent for the United States government, I would be duty bound to arrest you all. However, as my allegiance has shifted somewhat, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that and plead blissful ignorance should you ever be caught."

"And for that, I thank you," Glorfindel retorted with a grin of his own as everyone else chuckled.

By now they were at the campsite and found that most of the baggage had been packed up. Daeron was expertly extinguishing the campfire. Indeed, a cursory glance showed little evidence that anyone had been here. Glorfindel quickly assigned the Valinórean Elves to particular vehicles and Alex and Derek were introduced to three ellyn whose names escaped them. They spoke in halting and archaic English and the Mortals made a point to speak slowly and clearly and avoid using slang or contractions.

Alex led them to his car, opening the passenger door on his side and gestured for the three Elves to get in. All three stood there looking a bit dubious. One of them asked, "Where are your horses?"

"You’re looking at it," Alex said. "Get in. We’re about to leave."

When the Elves still didn’t move, Alex sighed. "Show them how it’s done, Derek."

Derek smiled, opened his door with a flourish and with exaggerated movement, entered the car and pulled the seatbelt about him. All three Elves bent down to look through the windows to watch him. "See, as safe as a baby in his mama’s arms," Derek said with a grin.

"Well, maybe not that safe, but safe enough," Alex countered. "So climb in. One of you go around to the other side, it’ll be easier to get in that way."

The three Elves gabbled at one another and one of them shrugged and walked around to the other side then just stood there staring at the car with a puzzled look on his face.

"Oh for the love of...." Alex muttered as he went around and opened the door while Derek just sat there smirking, obviously enjoying the show. "See, you just pull on this and it opens and when you are inside you pull it towards you to close it."

In the meantime, the other two were having a hard time getting in, for they were taller than the Mortals and the back of Alex’s car wasn’t all that roomy, plus they were all wearing swords and trying to figure out how to get in with them. Alex ran back around. "No, you need to remove the swords. I’ll put them in the trunk."

"We will not be parted from our swords," one of them said in a threatening tone.

"Then you can bloody well walk to Wiseman because you’re not getting in the car with those swords," Alex shouted.

"Is there a problem?"

They all turned to see Gilvegil approaching.

"Gil, swords," was all Alex could say pointing to the Elves.

Gilvegil smiled knowingly and began speaking in rapid Sindarin. The three Valinórean Elves gave him surprised looks and then with a great show of reluctance, unbuckled their sword belts and handed them to him even as Alex was opening the trunk. Gilvegil carefully placed the swords inside, all the while speaking, apparently assuring their visitors that the swords would be safe. All three watched the procedure with suspicion. Then Alex closed the trunk and Gilvegil gestured for the other ellyn to get inside, miming climbing into the back of the car. It was a tight squeeze and they looked very uncomfortable as Gilvegil and Alex closed the doors. Then Alex came around and got in, opening the window to speak with Gilvegil.

"They look like overdressed sardines," he said. Gilvegil just smiled, leaned into the window and spoke a few more words to the Elves in the back, then straightened.

"We’re all a bit cramped, even in Loren’s van," he said.

"Don’t worry, we’ll survive," Derek said with a grin.

Gilvegil nodded and headed for his car and they all sat in silence as they waited for the others to get organized. Alex glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed the Elves all had pained expressions on their faces. "What now?" he asked rhetorically.

Derek glanced back and gave Alex a grin. "Maybe they need to go."

"Well they should’ve thought of that before they got in," Alex retorted. "They’ll just have to hold it. Here we go." He turned over the key and when the engine started, all three Elves jumped at the sudden sound, making startled noises and looking somewhat fearful.

"Relax," Alex said, as he shifted into gear and followed Vorondur’s car slowly back to the road, feeling suddenly superior to these Elves. "There’s nothing to fear. We’re on our way."

When they reached the road, they were able to pick up their speed and Alex heard low moaning from the back. "They better not get carsick," he muttered.

Derek grinned and turned to face their passengers. "Ah... welcome to Alaska," he said. "Is this your first time here?"

"You are Mortals?" The middle Elf asked, sounding dubious.

"Don’t worry," Alex growled, more to himself than to them. "It’s not catching."

Derek broke out laughing. "These poor devils," he said, speaking Spanish, which he knew Alex would understand. "They probably think God hates them for ending up having to ride with us."

Alex grinned, his humor restored. Derek spoke to the Elves in English. "Yes, we are Mortals. You have never met Mortals before, have you?"

All three Elves shook their heads. "No. Until now, you were but legends told to us by our fathers," said the middle Elf who seemed to be their spokesman.

"That’s just great," Alex said, speaking in Spanish. "We get the newbies. I’m going to have a serious talk with Loren when we stop for the night."

"They’re all newbies," Derek said in the same language. "Even Finrod. He has no clue about modern life in Middle-earth."

"You speak strangely," said the middle Elf, sounding accusing.

"Sorry," Derek said. "I was just telling Alex that you are all in for an interesting time. It is going to be a long ride before we stop, so try to relax. If you start to feel sick, like you think you might throw up, let us know and we will stop the car immediately."

All three Elves gave him disbelieving looks and he shrugged, turning in his seat to face the front. Alex, having seen their expressions in the rearview mirror, snorted quietly to himself and then concentrated on the road, neatly avoiding the ruts. They continued for a time in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Alex wondered how old his passengers were, for they seemed somewhat young and inexperienced, at least compared to Finrod’s confident manner. He suspected they were feeling a bit lost and almost pitied them, remembering the first time he’d traveled overseas and how everything had been both familiar and different and that difference had been enough to unsettle him until he got used to it. Still, they were probably older than dirt and not exactly children who needed to be coddled so he wasn’t feeling too sympathetic towards them at the moment.

Derek was wondering where they were all going to live. As large as Edhellond was, it wasn’t that large. He had the feeling the mansion was going to be rather crowded unless some of them went elsewhere.

What the three Elves were thinking was anyone’s guess.

An hour went by and then two. Derek had closed his eyes at some point and was quietly snoring away. Alex was still feeling wide awake but knew if they didn’t stop soon he would need to pull over and have Derek take the wheel. Glancing at the rearview mirror he could see that the three ellyn were still very much awake as well, or maybe they were weaving dreams. He knew that Elves slept with their eyes open so it was rather hard to tell. Alex reached over and turned on the car radio, setting it to play one of the CDs he’d brought along for the ride. When the soft strains of electric guitars and piano filled the air and Bono began singing about streets with no names, all three Elves started, looking wildly around.

"Relax," Alex said. "It’s just music."

Derek opened his eyes a bit, muttered something unintelligible, shifted his position slightly and went back to sleep. Somehow, that seemed to mollify the Elves and they settled back in their seats. But they still seemed wary. Alex just shook his head and continued driving, wishing Loren would stop so he could get out and be rid of these three for a while.

It was nearly four o’clock before Alex saw Vorondur signaling and the cavalcade slowed, pulling off to the side of the road where there was a wide field. Alex turned off the engine and unbuckled his belt. "Everyone out," he said and then watched in amusement as the three Elves attempted to extricate themselves from the backseat, groaning as they tried to straighten up, all of them looking a bit green. Before he could even say a word, they stumbled away to where Finrod was climbing out of Glorfindel’s van, all three speaking to him at once.

"Probably demanding that someone else get to ride with those terrible Mortals," Derek muttered as he joined Alex.

Alex just snorted. "C’mon. Let’s find our sleeping bags. I don’t know about you, but I’m beat."

"I hear you," Derek said and after consulting with Vorondur, they were able to find their sleeping bags and the tent which they set up, completely ignoring all the Elves running about doing who knows what. Neither of them cared and, after checking with Glorfindel who assured them that all was well, they crawled into the tent and five minutes later were fast asleep.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Daerada: Grandpa.

Daerion: Grandson, or in this context, grandsons as there is no distinct plural form for ‘son’ in Sindarin.

Mae govannen, hín nîn. Anna enni ’lass le govedi: ‘Well met, my children. It gives me joy to meet you’. The word ’lass is the lenited form of glass ‘joy’.

56: Getting Acquainted

Alex woke about six hours later to find the camp eerily quiet. Derek was still sleeping, and there didn’t seem to be any of the usual noises associated with a number of people camping out. Peeking out of the tent, he saw that the predicted snow had come while they were sleeping, covering the landscape like a white blanket. It wasn’t deep, only a couple of inches but he was glad for his fleece jacket and warm boots; in spite of the sun, it was colder than it had been earlier.

His first impression, as he crawled out and looked about, was that he and Derek had been abandoned, for there was no sign of anyone, and all the cars but his were missing. Then he realized that wasn’t so. The other cars had been moved at some point while the two Mortals had slept so that they were hidden behind a screen of trees away from the road. Obviously, his car hadn’t been moved as he still had the keys with him. Then, of course, there was the fire merrily going and he saw what he assumed were camp supplies under a protective tarp. Where the Elves were was anyone’s guess.

Even as he was thinking these thoughts, Cennanion stepped out of the woods, giving him a smile. "Good morning."

"Morning. Where did everyone go? I thought for a moment we’d been abandoned."

"Never," Cennanion assured him. "The others are scattered about, reacquainting themselves with Middle-earth, or in a few cases, getting their first real look at it. Now, there’s a hot spring over there on the other side of those rocks where you can wash up, but be careful as it is quite hot, and that screen of trees just beyond it is the latrine. Loren’s decided, unless circumstances warrant it, that we’ll stay here until tomorrow night."

"Oh? Why? Derek and I are missing classes."

"And anything you think you need to know, we can easily teach you," the Elf said. "As it is, this is the last week of formal classes, though the other students don’t know that. Next week will be given over to preparing for your final exam."

"The test tour Zach and Loren told us about," Alex said.

Cennanion nodded. "Yes, but I wouldn’t worry about it. For now, just relax. The others will be back later and you can meet them all properly."

"Okay. I’m going to clean up then," Alex said and went back inside the tent to retrieve his toiletry bag and a towel. As he emerged from the tent again, Cennanion assured him that he would put together some breakfast for him and Derek.

Fifteen minutes later, Alex returned from the hot spring to find Derek had finally roused and was sitting on a log by the fire sipping on a mug of coffee while Cennanion was bending over the fire turning some bacon. Derek looked up and gave Alex a bleary smile.

"I could’ve slept longer but the smell of breakfast woke me," he said in greeting.

"Why don’t you go wash up, and by the time you’re back, everything will be ready?" Cennanion suggested. Derek nodded, drained his mug, setting it down. He went to retrieve his own toiletry bag and a towel and sauntered off. By the time he returned, Alex was enjoying his own breakfast of bacon and eggs and Cennanion handed Derek a plate. When he was satisfied the Mortals were all set, he excused himself, saying he wished to return to the woods.

"I’m afraid you’re on your own for a time," he said apologetically.

"Don’t worry about us," Alex said, waving a fork at him. "We’ll be fine and we promise not to move the camp while you-all are off hugging the trees or whatever."

Derek grinned and Cennanion chuckled and then left them. For a time, the two friends occupied themselves with their breakfast, but as they were finishing, Alex asked, "So, do you think we’ll be stuck with Curly, Larry and Moe again when we leave?"

Derek snorted his coffee, coughing and laughing at the same time. "And which one did you decide was Moe?" he finally asked when he got himself under control.

"The talkative one," Alex retorted with a grin. Derek slapped his knee and practically fell backward off the log he was laughing so hard. Alex just sat there smirking. Then, he happened to look up and saw Glorfindel and Finrod coming towards them from the nearby woods. "Oh, oh. We have company."

The two Mortals watched the Elves approach. Glorfindel seemed different from how they knew him, but neither could quite put their finger on what that difference might be. Finrod had changed his clothes and the flowing robes had been replaced by a plain knee-length tunic of dark green worsted wool over a shirt of blue-dyed linen and suede leather pants also dyed blue tucked into calf-high leather boots. His hair was unbound, caught in a simple gold circlet without any ornamentation and he wore no jewelry save for a curiously wrought ring. As plainly as he was dressed, Finrod exuded an aura of majesty and authority that caused the two Mortals to rise unconsciously and give the two Elf-lords awkward bows.

Both Finrod and Glorfindel smiled. "There be no need for such formalities among us, my friends," Finrod said. "Please sit."

Alex and Derek reluctantly complied as the two Elves joined them by the fire, sitting on another log across from them. "We could hear you laughing," Glorfindel said. "Care to let us in on the joke?"

The two Mortals exchanged sheepish looks. "Ah, it was nothing important," Alex said.

Finrod gave them a bright smile and there was a knowing look in his eyes. "My son is very young and unused to Mortals, so you must forgive him and his companions."

"Your son?" Alex asked, giving the Elf a quizzical look, trying to remember if he’d met anyone who resembled Finrod.

"The talkative one," Finrod answered slyly and both Mortals blushed.

"Damn elvish hearing," Derek muttered into his coffee mug.

Finrod and Glorfindel laughed even as Alex was stammering an apology. "Peace, Alex. I am not upset. I am afraid my son hath much to learn of Mortals and their ways. He is, as I said, quite young, in experience if not in years."

"He appeared to be a bit... um... upset when we saw him rushing to you to complain," Derek said.

"I don’t know what he had to complain about," Alex groused. "It’s not as if we treated them badly or anything and if he was upset about having to put his precious sword in the trunk, well, too bad."

"You need to give them a bit of slack," Glorfindel said gently. "They’re suffering from culture shock."

Derek snorted. "If they’re suffering culture shock now, just wait until we introduce them to McDonald’s and NFL football."

Glorfindel laughed. "Nevertheless, do try to keep in mind that neither Findalaurë nor his two companions have ever met Mortals. You are as much a legend to them as Elves were for you."

"And the first humans they meet turn out to be us," Alex said with a sigh, unconsciously pulling down his hat.

Finrod reached over and gently removed the hat from Alex’s head. "I have been told of thine adventures, young Alex. Thou art shamed yet there be no need for it, for thou didst come to this state honestly. Thou’rt a warrior, my friend, and thy baldness a badge of honor for thou didst win against a foe even greater than the Enemy whose name I shall not utter here."

Alex gave him a puzzled look. "What foe? All I did was finish the stupid race."

"Thou didst fight against thy very self," Finrod replied. "Thou didst not give in to defeat. Thou didst battle with thine inner demons and prevailed against despair. Thou hast no need to hide behind this." He lifted the hat in his hand.

"Except that it’s bloody cold and I’m freezing my ears off," Alex retorted, grabbing the hat and shoving it back on his head. Finrod laughed, the sound of it light and gay and full of gentle mirth. Glorfindel grinned and the Mortals found themselves grinning in return.

"I think it time for thee and Derek to be introduced to my son," Finrod said when he’d calmed down.

Both Alex and Derek sighed almost as one, much to the amusement of the Elves. Almost at the same time, several Elves came out of the woods and made their way to the fire. Alex saw the three ellyn who had ridden with him and Derek. The one with bright golden hair must be Finrod’s son, he thought. The other two were darker in color, one with hair the color of chestnuts, while the other was more a sandy brown with gold highlights. While Finrod’s son had blue eyes, theirs were more grey. Unlike Finrod, they were carrying swords and the dark-haired ellon had a bow across his back.

"Why are they armed?" Alex asked in a whisper, clearly puzzled.

"Must be those ninja squirrels," Derek replied with a straight face.

Alex gave him a sly grin. "Beware of killer rabbit," he retorted and Derek smothered a laugh. Finrod gave them both a bemused look but Glorfindel simply rolled his eyes. Besides the three ellyn, two others also approached. From their demeanor, Alex sensed that these two were much, much older, for there was a gravity about them that was missing from the younger Elves. Neither was armed.

"You called us, Atto?"

"Yes, my son. Come and join us. The time is meet for making proper introductions among you."

Alex saw the wary looks the three younger ellyn gave him and Derek as they found seats on another log. He plastered a smile on his face, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The two older ellyn spoke quietly in what he was beginning to recognize was Quenya and Glorfindel answered in kind. Finrod shot them a question and they both shrugged, giving him amused smiles. Alex found it interesting that all three of the younger ellyn looked somewhat abashed and wondered what had happened. Apparently whatever it was, Finrod found it more amusing than anything and cast a fond look at his son and his two companions. Then he turned to Alex and Derek.

"Alex Grant, Derek Lowell, be pleased to meet my son, Findalaurë, and his two gwedyr, Calandil Calaldundilion and Elennen Ingalindarion."

"Uh... hello," Alex said, not quite sure what else to say. Derek echoed him.

Findalaurë nodded in greeting but the other two merely stared at them. Before things got too awkward, Finrod turned to the two older ellyn. "And let me introduce Laurendil Rialcarion, who is the great-grandsire of Calandil, and Valandur Voronwion, who hath the keeping of young Elennen, who is my cousin Ingwion’s great-grandson."

Both ellyn bowed to the Mortals, which surprised them. "A star shineth at the hour of our meeting," Valandur said in slightly accented English. "I have long hoped to meet with Mortals and am right glad of this opportunity."

"Oh," was all Alex could think to say. "I hope you’re not too disappointed."

"Not at all," Valandur said with a laugh.

"Alex, you and Valandur have something in common," Glorfindel said with a smile.

"Really? What’s that?"

"Valandur is mine uncle’s spymaster," Finrod answered for Glorfindel, smiling slyly.

"Is that a fact?" Alex asked, giving the Vanyarin Elf a shrewd look.

"I have heard that thou’rt an accomplished spy," Valandur said.

"Intelligence officer," Alex corrected. "I’m still alive, so I guess I am."

Findalaurë gave him a disbelieving look. "Thou art a spymaster? Thou seemeth over-young for such an important position. Uncle Valandur spent yéni upon yéni learning his craft before ever Uncle Ingwë made him his chief loremaster and spymaster. I cannot think thou hast learnt much in thy short years."

No one commented and from the closed expressions on the faces of the older Elves, Alex had the feeling that they were interested in seeing how he handled himself with the arrogant little brat, as he thought of the young prince. He glanced at Derek, who gave him a shrug and a ‘go-for-it’ look.

"I have spent the last ten years infiltrating terrorist groups here and around the world," he finally said. "I’ve brought a number of people to justice, people who were bent on destroying our civilization and way of life, people whose greatest pleasures were in torturing helpless men, women and children and seeking ways to sow confusion, pain and despair among the innocent. I’ve stared into the heart of darkness and have exposed it to the light. I’ve been battling evil, boy, while you’ve been sitting around pretending to be someone special because your daddy is Finrod and you carry a pretty sword."

"You dare!" the young ellon shouted even as he leapt to his feet, drawing the sword from its sheath. His two friends leapt to their feet as well but did not draw their swords. Alex had half-expected the move and before anyone else could react, he was on the Elf, knocking the sword from his hand with a single thrust, then grabbing the now empty hand and throwing the helpless ellon over his shoulder, forcing him to the ground, ready to strike him again. Glorfindel reached out and grabbed his arm, staying him.

"You really need to stop doing that, you know," the Elf-lord said conversationally.

Alex merely grinned and stepped away, resuming his seat beside Derek, who raised an eyebrow at him but did not make any comment. Valandur and Laurendil gave him nods while Finrod was busy helping his son to his feet. The two other youngsters just stared at Alex with wide eyes. Several Elves came boiling out of the woods, apparently attracted by the shouting. Glorfindel barked something in Quenya that sent them all scurrying back. He gave them a satisfied grin.

"Guess I still have it," he said and both Valandur and Laurendil chuckled.

"Sorry about that," Alex said to Finrod as he was helping his son retrieve his sword, but the Elf waved a hand in dismissal.

"The only one who should be sorry is my son who hath dared to draw steel upon one who is unarmed."

"Unarmed but not defenseless," Laurendil corrected. "A rather useful trick."

"Mortals developed a means of defense using one’s body as a weapon," Glorfindel explained. "It’s rather handy when you are weaponless but your opponent is not. The Valar know I’ve had reason to be grateful for learning such skills over the years."

"Works well on unsuspecting Maiar, too," Alex couldn’t help saying.

"Indeed," Glorfindel said with a laugh.

"And thou, Derek," Finrod said, "what hast thou done with thy life before coming here?"

Derek raised an eyebrow and Alex half-suspected that Finrod already knew the answer but wished for the Mortal to speak for the benefit of the three young ellyn. "I was in the Navy for six years," Derek answered readily enough, "though I didn’t see any action. Like Alex, I was in the intelligence field, but not as an agent. I helped to collect and analyze sensitive information which was gathered by others to secure the safety of our country and our allies against those who would bring darkness over all."

"A worthy endeavor," Finrod said. "It doth pain me to know that peace is as fragile as ever in these Mortal lands."

"Morgoth and Sauron are no more but their legacy lives on," Glorfindel said. "Yet, is this not what we are all about? Is this not why the Valar wished for us to establish Elf Academy and begin training the Mortals for the ultimate battle?"

"Indeed, and we have come to give thee our aid, Brother," Finrod said soberly. "And others there will be who will also come in due time, but we are the vanguard and it is for us to help thee and thy fellows to secure this outpost of the Light against the encroaching Darkness."

"But swords?" Alex couldn’t help asking. "Any Mortal with the proper weapon could kill you at fifty feet. In all these ages you haven’t advanced beyond swords and bows?"

"I wouldn’t call it an advancement," Glorfindel said.

Alex shrugged. "Maybe yes, maybe no. The point is, if you are gathering an army together, do you think this Enemy you-all are gabbling about isn’t doing the same? And if so, do you think he would ignore the weapons of modern warfare and stick to swords and spears and other so-called more honorable weapons? I don’t think so. He’s going to look to every advantage, up to and including using dirty bombs and other terrorist toys."

There was an uneasy silence as they digested what he’d told them. Finally Valandur spoke. "Thou speakest wisely, Alex, yet only from thy limited perspective. I do not say that what thou hast said is untrue, merely not the whole of it. There are aspects of this war of which thou’rt ignorant. But we shall speak more of this, thou and I."

"And Amroth," Alex said. "He’s more the spymaster than I am, since he’s the one who trained me, while I’m just an agent."

Valandur nodded. "Indeed. I am eager to meet with him as well."

"In the meantime, we need to address the situation which hath arisen between us," Finrod said. "Thou shouldst know, Alex, that I deliberately asked Glorfindel to pair thee and Derek with my son and his two gwedyr."

"Oh?" Alex gave him a shrewd look. "Let me guess. This was a test, wasn’t it? So, which one of us failed?"

"Thou art correct in that I wished to see how my son reacted to his first encounter with Mortals, but it was not meant to be a test for either of you, merely a form of instruction." He turned to Findalaurë. "My son, tell us of thine impressions, and you, also, Calandil and Elennen. Speak as your hearts bid."

Findalaurë gave his father a sour look tinged with hurt. "Why dost thou test us, Atto, and not the ellith who are also new to these shores?"

"A fair question," Finrod answered, "yet, they are not my concern at the moment. My concern lieth with thee, my son, thou and thy brothers. I will speak unto the ellith anon. So, let us have thy thoughts."

The three younger Elves shifted nervously, not quite looking at anyone. Then, Findalaurë muttered something.

"Speak up, my son," Finrod commanded, his tone somewhat sharp, "and in English."

Findalaurë looked up in defiance. "They smell funny."

Alex blinked in disbelief, then looked at Derek, who, for his part, mimed sniffing his underarms, shaking his head. "It’s got to be you, then."

"Get out!" Alex said, trying not to laugh, feeling embarrassed. It was the first time anyone had accused him of smelling.

The older Elves looked on in amusement, but the three younger ones were frowning. "Thou hast asked for our impressions, Atto, and that is the one most apparent to us," Findalaurë complained. "I regret if it causeth embarrassment, but I speak only the truth."

"And I asked for the truth," Finrod said in agreement. "Yet, what other thoughts have you about these two Mortals?"

"They are not what we expected," Elennen said.

"What did you expect?" Alex asked, his tone curious rather than confrontational.

"All our lives, we have heard the tales of the Atani," Findalaurë answered. "You are not Beren or Tuor."

"No. I’m just their descendant," Alex retorted. "I don’t claim to be a hero or have super powers or anything. I’m just me. Maybe the Men your father knew were heroes, and they seem larger than life when you read about them, but I’m not them, nor do I pretend to be. If you were expecting to be greeted by another Beren or Tuor or even Túrin, you’re out of luck. And I do not smell funny!" He stood up and bent over the fire, picking up the coffee pot that was warming beside it and pouring himself another cup before resuming his seat.

"Would you share with us what your first impressions were?" Glorfindel asked him and Derek.

"Of these three or of the Valinórean Gang as a whole?" Derek asked.

"The Valinórean Gang?" Glorfindel repeated, giving him an amused look.

Derek shrugged. "Well, that’s sort of how I think of them, to differentiate them from you Wiseman Elves."

"An interesting phrase," Finrod said, "but please, do tell us your impressions."

"Well, I can’t speak for Alex," Derek said, "but I thought your son and his friends rather amusing. When Alan here just stood there staring at the car door wondering why it wouldn’t open for him, it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. His expression was so funny and Alex running around... well that was even funnier."

"Thanks," Alex groused. "Who’s side are you on, anyway?"

"I’m just saying that it was all rather amusing."

"Well it wasn’t from my standpoint," Alex snarled. "I couldn’t believe anyone as old as they are acting so... I don’t know... asking us if we were Mortals like they couldn’t believe what they were seeing and what they were seeing obviously didn’t impress them. Frankly, when they all practically screamed like girls when I started up the car, I felt rather superior to them, something that’s hard to do when surrounded by you lot."

"We did not scream," Findalaurë protested, giving the two Mortals a dark look. "We were merely taken by surprise."

"And my name is Elennen, not Alan," the great-grandson of Ingwion added with a disdainful sniff. "Thou canst not even speak our names correctly."

"Alan is a Mortal name," Glorfindel said, "and very close in sound, if not in meaning, to your own. You had all better get used to having such names in order to blend in with the Mortals."

"That’s going to be a neat trick," Alex said. "You and the other Wiseman Elves have had ages to learn to do just that, but these others are going to be harder to hide in plain sight, as it were. They’re too... ethereal or something. I noticed last night that you had a sort of golden glow that was muted and most people would not really notice it or put it down to a trick of the light, but Finrod practically glowed like a supernova in comparison. People are definitely going to take notice of that."

"How many of you are there, anyway?" Derek asked. "I never could figure it out."

"There be twice twelve of us who have come," Finrod answered.

"That many?" Derek retorted with a whistle. "So where are you going to put them all? On the ceiling?"

Glorfindel laughed. "We’ll figure something out, never fear. I suspect that some of us... er... Wiseman Elves will move out of Edhellond. I know Amroth and Nimrodel would like to and Elrohir certainly will, once he and Serindë are married. We’ll worry about it later. For now, let us just concentrate on you five youngsters."

"Derek and I are anything but," Alex said. "We’re responsible adults with our own concerns, and I don’t appreciate being volunteered for child-minding duties without being asked."

"We are not children," Findalaurë said heatedly.

"So how old are you?" Derek asked.

"The counting of time is different in Aman than in the Mortal lands," Finrod explained. "Yet, it is counted. My son was born three yéni before Círdan did Sail. Calandil and Elennen were born not long after."

"And that was just before the last ice age," Glorfindel said, "which makes them older than Serindë who has seen not quite three thousand years of the Sun."

"You say that as if being almost three thousand years old is the equivalent of being only ten," Alex said in a somewhat awed tone.

"The Eldar as a race is older than humankind, Alex," Glorfindel said gently. "Serindë is indeed young in comparison to her elders, as are these three, however many millennia they have seen. Finrod, Laurendil, Valandur and I have seen ten times as many. Indeed, Valandur is nearly as old as Daeron, for they both remember the stars above Cuiviénen at the very dawn of our existence."

"That’s too much to wrap my mind around," Derek admitted, "especially when none of you look to be older than twenty. I can see why even these youngsters, as you call them, look upon Alex and me as if we were mere infants. Funny, I never had that impression from you or the others at the Academy."

"As you pointed out, we have lived among you for millennia and have come to respect your worth as Children of Ilúvatar, even as we are," Glorfindel said. "We see Mortals as our younger brothers and sisters, to be accorded the same respect as we would grant to our own kin."

"And you will find that those of us who once lived upon these shores feel the same," Finrod added. "I remember my first sight of your ancestors and how I fell in love with them and marveled at their ways. I spent a year among Bëor and his people, teaching them much even as they taught me and I have ever been a friend unto Mortals. And now, I hope my son will also learn of your worth. I apologize for... um... what is the phrase?"

"Setting us up?" Alex asked, giving Finrod a cheeky grin.

Finrod laughed. "Yea, that be an apt phrase, indeed."

"I guess it’s all right." Alex said. "I’m sorry if I did or said anything to offend anyone, but I guess we all had expectations, some less realistic than others, and when they didn’t pan out...." He shrugged. "Anyway, maybe we can just start over." Derek nodded in agreement.

"And thou, my son," Finrod said. "Art thou right willing to see past thy preconceived notions of what thou thinkest Mortals should be and see them as they truly are, Children of Ilúvatar and beloved by Him and the Valar, even as thou’rt?"

Findalaurë glanced at his two friends and some sort of silent communication passed between them before he nodded and the other two copied him.

"Then we rejoice and sing hosannas," Finrod said.

Alex and Derek glanced at one another and started grinning. "Hosanna, heysanna, sanna, sanna ho, sanna hey, sanna hosanna," they sang almost at the same time and then broke out laughing while the Valinórean Elves stared at them in bemusement and Glorfindel rolled his eyes.

****

Words are Quenya: 

Yéni: Plural of yén: an elvish century equal to 144 solar years.

Atani: Plural of atan: Man.

57: A Walk in the Woods

When Alex and Derek calmed down, Glorfindel explained the song reference to Finrod and the others without going into any details about it, and then suggested that Alex and Derek spend time with Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen. "You can take a hike and show one another what you know."

"Which isn’t much," Alex said. "I wish we’d thought to bring the guidebook with us to help identify plants and all, but I didn’t think we’d actually be staying out in the wilderness this long."

"Was there a particular place you were thinking of us going to?" Derek asked.

"You see that mountain peak?" Glorfindel asked, pointing to the northwest.

"You want us to go there?" Derek asked.

"No, but that’s your guide," Glorfindel said. "If you cross the road and walk through that field, keeping that peak directly before you, you may find something worth looking at."

Alex and Derek exchanged puzzled looks, then shrugged almost as one. "Well, I guess," Alex said somewhat reluctantly. "I could use the exercise. This cold is making me feel stiff."

"It is cold for you?" Findalaurë asked, wrinkling his brow, as if the concept of ‘cold’ was alien to him.

"Hello! Snow. Yes, it’s cold," Alex said in disbelief. "Why do you think we’re huddling around this pitiful little fire?"

"It’s not pitiful," Glorfindel said.

"Yeah, well. I could make it better, certainly bigger," Alex said with a sniff.

"We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves," Glorfindel said, looking more amused than affronted.

"Whatever," Alex said, rising, wincing in pain from the bone bruises which he still suffered. His chest felt constricted and he found it hard to take in deep breaths.

"Thou’rt still in pain," Laurendil said, frowning.

"Well, that’s what happens when you’re caught in an avalanche," Alex said somewhat bitterly. "I still can’t believe I was that stupid not to look where I was going. I was so intent on finding the trail, I just wasn’t paying attention."

"That you are alive and relatively whole is all that matters now," Glorfindel said in all seriousness, "and for that I am grateful, as you should be."

"Oh, no worries on that score," Alex said fervently. "Okay, so if we keep our eyes on the mountain we’re supposed to find something worth looking at, huh? Derek, you’re in charge of keeping us on the straight and narrow, I’ll look out for any obstacles so we don’t all fall into a ditch or something and break our necks. You want to grab the canteens and make sure they’re filled while I see about packing some supplies?"

"Sure, no problem," Derek said, rising and heading for the pile of camp supplies.

"And what of us?" Findalaurë asked.

"You can get rid of those swords," Alex said in a no-nonsense voice, speaking as an adult to a child. "I will not have you endangering us with those weapons."

"We are warriors," Calandil protested. "We do not surrender our swords to any."

"Did I say anything about surrendering?" Alex retorted. "Lord above. I really am not in the mood to deal with this."

He stalked off, muttering imprecations as he went to his car, fishing out his keys and opening the trunk. He rooted about for a bit, shifting some of the items to get to his secret stash of weapons. Removing his jacket, he strapped on a shoulder holster, drew out a .45 automatic and, checking the clip and making sure the safety was on, shoved the gun inside the holster, then grabbed a small backpack before closing the trunk and returning to the fire, putting his jacket back on.

"Why the gun?" Glorfindel asked.

"To shoot anyone who asks stupid questions," Alex retorted.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow while the other Elves looked on in bemusement.

"Thou demandest that we leave our swords behind, yet thou dost bring that strange weapon with thee," Findalaurë said accusingly.

"We’re in the middle of the Alaska wilderness," Derek answered before Alex could, having returned to the fire carrying three canteens. "There are grizzlies out here. Swords will be no good against them, but a gun may scare them off."

"And what are these grizzlies?" Finrod asked.

"Very large bears with bad tempers," Alex said as he threw some food into the pack, along with a flashlight. "And here’s another word of advice: never run from a bear. Now, how far do we have to go and will we be back before dark?"

"It’s not more than five miles," Glorfindel said, "so you should have plenty of daylight."

"Okay, let’s go then," Alex said, shrugging the backpack onto his shoulders.

The three younger Elves removed their swords with a great deal of reluctance with Finrod promising that he would keep an eye on them, much to the amusement of the Mortals and the other older Elves. Elennen also handed his bow and a quiver of arrows over to Valandur, who promised to keep them safe for him. Then, the five of them headed off. The four older Elves watched them cross the road and enter the field on the other side, observing how the two Mortals led with the three ellyn trailing and there was plenty of space between the two groups.

Finrod sighed as he turned to Glorfindel. "I hope they become friends," he said. "My son doth need a friend among the Mortals, though he knoweth it not."

"Well, if they don’t end up killing each other, I’m sure things will work out," Glorfindel said with a grin. "So, why don’t you throw those pretty toys those children have been toting around inside the tent and then we can go on our own exploration."

"I’ll bank the fire," Laurendil volunteered and five minutes later the camp was deserted.

****

Alex turned to see if the three Elves were following them and poked Derek in the ribs to get his attention. "Look," he said as he stopped. Derek turned around and whistled low.

"Neat trick," he said. "Do they do that so they don’t get their feet wet?"

Alex shrugged. By now the three ellyn had come closer. Findalaurë gave them a haughty look. "What do ye stare at, Mortals? Have ye not seen Elves walk on snow before?"

"I’d be more interested to see you try to walk on water," Alex said with a diffident shrug, not about to let the Elves know how freaked he was feeling at the moment. "You’d better learn to leave footprints or you’re going to have a hard time blending in."

The three ellyn exchanged puzzled looks. "How can we do that? To leave no trace of our passage comes naturally to us. It is as automatic as breathing."

"Then you need to be more conscious of it," Derek said. "Here, try this." He lifted his right foot an inch or two and then with exaggerated motion, planted it firmly on the ground, then did the same with his other foot. "See? If you think about it, you can do it."

"It is a very clumsy way to walk," Findalaurë said with a sniff, "but I should not wonder that Mortals are incapable of walking lightly."

"Well, excuse us for breathing," Alex retorted. "C’mon. We’re burning daylight and I want to be back at camp before it gets dark." He turned and stalked off with Derek right behind him; the three Elves hesitated for a moment and then followed, all three of them with dark expressions on their faces.

Just beyond the field, the land began to rise and they entered some woods. In spite of the trees, Derek was still able to spot the mountain, or rather its peak, so they were able to stay on course. The two Mortals had to force their way through the underbrush but the Elves appeared to suffer less difficulty, the three of them smirking at Alex untangling himself from a bramble. Neither Alex nor Derek said a word and refused to acknowledge the Elves as they struggled through the woods.

At one point, they were forced to take a slight detour around several fallen trees that blocked their way and it took Derek a few minutes to sight the peak again and regain their course. "I hope it’s not too much further, whatever it is," Alex muttered. "My chest hurts from breathing."

"We can rest, if you like," Derek suggested but Alex just shook his head, determined not to give the Elves any further ammunition to use against them, though he did take a long drink from one of the canteens.

"I’m fine," he said. "I’ll just take it slow. Loren said five miles and I think we’ve gone almost that far so hopefully our destination is straight ahead."

His prediction held true and another half an hour saw them climbing another hill and then finding themselves staring down into a secluded valley where a miniature waterfall danced merrily down a rocky slope opposite from where they were, filling a small pool.

"It’s beautiful," Derek whispered and Alex nodded, turning to see the Elves approaching.

"Looks as if we’ve arrived," he said. "Why don’t we go down and explore for a while?"

The three ellyn looked down into the valley and actually smiled, their eyes dancing with delight at what they saw. "Yes. We would like that very much," Findalaurë said and then the five of them were making their way down into the valley and this time, it was the Elves who took the lead.

The downslope was easy, but Alex walked warily and Derek stayed by his side while the three ellyn ranged ahead, speaking in Quenya together, pointing features out to one another. The waterfall, they saw was only a few feet higher than themselves and plunged into a small pool about ten feet across. There was no outlet so they assumed that the water flowed underground else the valley would’ve been flooded long before. Alex bent down to test the water.

"Cold but not freezing," he said. "Let’s fill the canteens."

"Do you think it’s safe enough?" Derek asked dubiously.

"Yeah, this water is pretty pure," Alex answered. "Fill it from the falls rather than from the pool." As they were doing that, Alex looked around for the Elves. "Now where did they go?" he asked, frowning, for there was no sign of them.

"The valley’s not that large," Derek said as he stoppered the last canteen. "They’re probably checking out the woods. Let them alone. I’m feeling hungry. Why don’t we find a place to sit and eat while the three amigos are busy hugging the trees."

Alex grinned and agreed. They moved away from the waterfall to where one of the pine trees that populated the valley had fallen and settled themselves. Alex pulled off his backpack and began unloading some fruit and energy bars for them to munch on.

"It’s a pretty place," Alex commented. "I wonder how Loren knew of it."

"He’s been here for two years," Derek said. "He’s probably done a lot of exploring of the area when he’s not been working."

Alex glanced up at the sky. "It’s getting late and I don’t like the look of those clouds. We better round up the kids and head back. I don’t want to be caught out after dark or if it starts snowing again."

"We should think of real names for them," Derek said. "Elennen can be Alan; that’s easy enough. What about Cal for Calandil? It can be short for Calvin, which is a pretty stupid name but whatever."

"And Findalaurë? What name should we give him?" Alex asked.

"Besides Moe?" Derek asked with a grin and Alex laughed. "I guess Larry would do, though he strikes me more as a Lawrence, very serious about everything."

"Well, we’ll have to discuss it with Loren and the others," Alex said. "They will have to come up with appropriate names for everyone. That should be fun. I’m glad I don’t have to deal with it." He looked around and put his hands on either side of his mouth and called out, "Hey, it’s time to go. Alan, Cal, Larry, c’mon, we’re leaving."

"Tolo, Edhil, bedim," Derek shouted, his voice echoing through the valley.

"Damn! Where did they go?" Alex groused. "I am not in the mood for this."

"Should we just leave them?"

"Oh, I am so tempted," Alex said, "but Loren would have our heads and then Finrod would use what’s left for target practice should anything happen to sonny-boy. Look, you take that side of the valley and I’ll take this. Make your way to where we came down and hopefully one of us will find them."

They split up with Alex moving to his left, entering the woods that bordered the valley, calling out every once in a while, then pausing to listen, hoping to hear something, anything, but there was nothing and the trees deadened any sound, so that even the music of the waterfall was muted. Under the trees it was even darker than in the valley and the gloom deepened as clouds began to pile up. Alex trudged through the woods, but staying in the lower reaches rather than attempting to climb out of the valley. It took him close to fifteen minutes to reach where they had entered the valley with no sign of the Elves anywhere. Derek showed up a minute or two later, shaking his head.

"It’s like they just got swallowed up or something," he said. "I found no trace of them. What do you want to do now?"

Alex thought for a moment, forcing his anger down so he could think clearly. Making a decision, he doffed the backpack and opened it, retrieving the flashlight. "You’re in better shape than I am, so I want you to hightail it to the camp and tell Loren. I’ll stay here and wait. Maybe wherever those idiots have gone, they’ll return."

"You sure?" Derek asked.

Alex nodded. "I’ve got my gun. Where did I put those matches? Oh, here, in my pocket. I’ll gather some deadwood and build a fire. That may attract them. At any rate, it’ll help keep me warm. Those clouds look menacing and the temperature’s dropped."

"This valley is sheltered but even so it’s going to get cold."

"So the sooner you’re off the sooner you’re back," Alex said, handing him two of the canteens. "Don’t stop to smell the roses."

"No fear of that," Derek said with a scowl. "And if they do show up in the meantime, save some choice pieces for me to skewer."

Alex grinned. "You’d better get going."

Derek nodded and headed uphill, soon lost from sight. Alex sighed, muttered several choice expletives as he set about gathering kindling and moving back into the valley to find a suitable place to make a fire, all the while keeping a wary eye on the snow-laden clouds covering the sky above him.

****

"They should have been back by now," Glorfindel said with a scowl as he observed the camp. He, Finrod, Laurendil and Valandur had returned along with the other Elves of Wiseman to find the camp empty. The other Valinórean Elves were still in the woods and would not likely return until the next day in spite of the encroaching darkness and storm.

"Could they have suffered an ill?" Finrod asked worriedly.

"There is nothing that could have harmed them," Glorfindel assured him.

"These grizzlies of which thou hast spoken...."

"Are nowhere near here, certainly not in the valley to which I sent them, for there is nothing in the valley to attract any bear. Most are too busy right now finding dens in which to hibernate. Alex took his gun only as a precaution. This is the wilderness, after all. No, they should have had a pleasant jaunt to the valley, stayed long enough to admire the little waterfall and then headed back."

"Obviously, something has happened to delay them," Vorondur said with a thin smile.

"I’m going after them," Glorfindel said. "I don’t like the look of those clouds and Alex is still recovering from his ordeal. He shouldn’t be subjected to another storm."

"I will go with thee, my brother," Finrod said.

"I will go as well," Laurendil said. "I wish to see this valley for myself."

"As would I," Valandur said.

"The rest of us will stay and build up the fire and have supper ready for when you return," Vorondur said and Glorfindel nodded in agreement.

"Come," he said, "grab some blankets and a thermos. Your children will not be cold, but Alex and Derek will be."

Five minutes later, they were on their way.

****

Alex snarled an oath as the fire went out for the third time. The wind had picked up as the clouds massed overhead, swooping down into the valley and snuffing out the little flame before Alex could get it going large enough. There was very little in the way of shelter and he could not safely build the fire under the trees. And now it was beginning to snow. He glanced up at the large white flakes spiraling down, touching his eyelids and landing on his nose.

Muttering another oath, he whipped out his gun, undid the safety, and aimed it at the waterfall, the sound of the shot echoing eerily back and forth. He fired a second shot, then stood listening, hoping that the sound of gunfire would draw the stupid Elves back to the valley from wherever they had disappeared to, but after several tense moments, when nothing moved, he thrust the gun back in its holster, zipped up his jacket, pushed his hat firmly down around his ears then headed towards the nearest trees, hoping they would provide him with some kind of shelter from the wind.

Under the pines, the wind lessened and the snowfall was not as evident, but it was still cold and the temperature was dropping. He noticed some trees had fallen, perhaps in a past storm, not far from where the woods and valley met and after much effort, sweating and panting and having to stop frequently to catch his breath, he managed to break off some of the branches still covered with pine needles and made a kind of lean-to, using the branches as a roof while he huddled between two of the larger fallen trees, his arms around his knees, hugging himself against the cold, watching the valley fill with snow.

He tried to amuse himself by inventing sentences in Sindarin, practicing his conjugations.

"Degin in Edhil... Edhengin in Edhil...Degithan in Edhil... In Edhil degithar nin... Aníron an ndaged neled Edhil....Dógiel in Edhil, linnen...."

And all the while, the snow kept falling.

****

The four Elves met Derek about two miles from the valley. The Mortal was trudging slowly, his flashlight lit, heading at an oblique angle from them. Had he continued in the same direction, he would’ve missed the camp entirely.

"Easy, Derek," Glorfindel said as he reached the young Man, gently removing the flashlight from his hands even as Laurendil was throwing a wool blanket around his shoulders and Valandur was handing him a cup of hot coffee from the thermos.

"I c-c-couldn’t see the mountain," Derek stuttered, shivering from the cold. "I was afraid I was g-g-going in circles."

"Where are Alex and the others?" Glorfindel demanded.

"I l-left Alex in th-th-the valley," Derek replied. "He was fine. I d-don’t know about the ellyn. One minute they were beside us adm-m-miring the falls, next minute, they were gone. We called but they never answered, then we sc-scoured the woods on either side and still no trace. Alex sent me for help."

All four Elves looked grim and Finrod’s eyes shown with a fell light that shook Derek more than the cold and he whimpered slightly. The sound, whisper soft as it was, brought the Elves out of themselves and they concentrated on Derek, assuring themselves that he suffered little more than cold.

"Are you all right to come with us or do you want one of us to take you back to camp?" Glorfindel asked, rubbing the Mortal’s arms to warm him up.

"No. I want to get back to Alex," Derek said, "and then I want to slowly kill those brats of yours if we ever find them."

"And thou hast our permission to do so, once we’ve done our own slow killing," Finrod said with faint humor and both Valandur and Laurendil nodded in agreement.

"Let’s go then," Glorfindel said, taking Derek’s arm.

****

Alex, what are you doing sitting in the snow, son?

Alex looked up to see Amroth standing over him, apparently unfazed by the snow falling heavily about him.

"I’m waiting for Derek," he said, or thought he did. It was hard to concentrate and he was feeling sleepy. Somewhere in the back of his mind alarms were going off but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to respond to them.

You need to get up, son. It is too cold for you to sit there.

"Don’ wanna," Alex protested dreamily. "Wanna wait for Derek."

Derek won’t be able to find you here, though. Best to go to the waterfall. He’ll find you there easily enough.

"Waterfall?" Alex asked, frowning.

Yes, son, the waterfall. Come now, stand up. That’s it. You can do it. Make me proud, son.

Amroth’s image shifted and blurred as Alex tried to get to his feet, yelping at the sudden pain of movement as circulation was slowly re-established in his lower extremities. He had to grip the trunks of the trees and climb out of the hollow between them, then stood there stupidly, not sure what to do next.

This way, Alex.

Alex turned his head slightly to see Amroth gesturing to him and shuffled forward, swaying dizzily. He couldn’t really feel his feet or any other part of his body and had to look down every once in a while to see if he was even moving. Amroth’s image stayed ahead of him, backing up, never looking behind him, yet seeming to know just where to go to give Alex the smoothest way. Curiously, the Elf left no footprints. Alex thought that was interesting in a dull sort of way. He had to stop frequently, trying to get his breath, rubbing the snow out of his eyes.

You are doing just fine, child. Only a few more feet to go. See? The waterfall is just there.

"Derek?"

Is coming and with help. Soon you will be back in camp. Just keep moving, Alex. That’s it. Don’t stop. It is too dangerous for you to stop.

Alex nodded, knowing the truth of that, though one part of him did not care and all he really wanted to do was lie down and sleep, but he trudged on, stumbling a bit over the uneven ground. The waterfall was just before him and he stared at it with little interest wishing Derek would come so he could sleep. He turned to see where Amroth had gone to, but there was no sign of the Elf.

He was alone again and the thought of it sent him to his knees as he wept frozen tears.

****

"Alex! Alex! It’s alright, mate. We’ve got you."

Alex blinked open eyes that were half-frozen from tears and the snow to see Derek hovering over him. "D-d-erek?" he stammered.

"Yes, mate, and Glorfindel and Finrod are here as well."

Even as Derek mentioned their names, their faces came into view. Finrod was pouring something out of a thermos, encouraging Alex to drink while Glorfindel wrapped him in blankets handed to him by Laurendil who was standing over them. He could also see Valandur, who stood looking about, calling in Quenya, his tone one of anger.

"They’re here; I can sense them," he said, shaking his head.

"Where?" Derek demanded. "We looked everywhere for them."

"They were hiding from you," Finrod said. "It is plain to me what they were about. There will be words between us for their thoughtlessness."

"Here they come," Valandur said with a look of grim satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Alex was feeling more awake and his memory was returning. "Where’s Amroth?" he asked.

Derek gave him a puzzled look. "Back in Wiseman, of course."

"No. He was here. He c-c-called me son and s-s-said he was proud of me. He t-told me to come back to the waterfall. I was sleepy but he wouldn’t let me sleep. He has to be here. Where is he?" He was becoming agitated and close to panic.

"Alex," Glorfindel said soothingly. "Amroth isn’t here, he never was. It was your imagination. Your brain was supplying you with an image to help get you to move. It is a good thing for I do not know if we would have found you in time otherwise. Now enough. Laurendil is going to put you in healing sleep and when you wake up again we’ll be back in camp."

Before Alex could protest, Laurendil was kneeling beside him, having taken Glorfindel’s place, laying a hand on Alex’s forehead and softly crooning something he did not understand. In minutes, he was fast asleep.

****

Words are Sindarin:

Tolo, Edhil, bedim: ‘Come, Elves, we go’.

Degin in Edhil... Edhengin in Edhil... Degithan in Edhil... In Edhil degithar nin... Aníron an ndaged neled Edhil...Dógiel in Edhil, linnen: ‘I slay the Elves... I slew the Elves...I will slay the Elves... The Elves will slay me... I wish to slay three Elves....Having slain the Elves, I sang....’.

58: Trial of the Three Amigos

Glorfindel watched dispassionately as Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen came out of the woods, their heads up high and looks of defiance on their young — oh so young — faces. Finrod’s expression was unreadable even to him and the faces of both Laurendil and Valandur were also blank of any real expression. He stole a glance at Derek and was not surprised to see naked hatred in the young Man’s eyes as he knelt beside Alex, now fast asleep, wrapped in several blankets. They would need to be moving soon, for the snow was coming down more heavily than before and both Mortals, but especially Alex, needed the warmth of the fire. First, though....

No words were spoken between them. Finrod merely gestured to the three youngsters to lead the way and then, without any hesitation, stooped down to pick Alex up in his arms. Glorfindel made to take him from his gwador, but Finrod shook his head and gave Derek a smile of encouragement, for the young Man eyed them all warily. The expressions on the faces of the young ellyn were ones of disbelief, quickly shuttered (though not quickly enough) and then they were silently leaving the valley with Glorfindel and Valandur on either side of Derek to give him a hand, for he was flagging and Glorfindel half suspected that they would end up having to carry him as well before they reached the camp. Laurendil aided Finrod around obstacles as they climbed the hill, steadying his lord, burdened as he was with Alex.

Once they cleared the hills and the woods and reached the fields, Glorfindel kept one hand on Derek’s arm to guide him for the snow was falling rapidly and it was doubtful Derek could see two feet in front of him. Even for the Elves, there was little for them to see through the blinding snowfall, but they had an innate sense of direction and knew just where to go to find the camp.

As he suspected, they were still about a league from the campsite when Derek stumbled and would’ve fallen on his face but for Glorfindel holding him up. Without a word, Valandur scooped him up into his arms and again Glorfindel did not dispute it, deciding that his friends needed to do something in atonement for the dereliction of their charges. Thus, they reached the camp and found a large fire going in spite of the snow and meat roasting on skewers over it. The tarp had been set up to provide protection and in short order, they had both Mortals underneath it, stripped of soggy clothes, and bundled up in drier ones. Derek had come out of his swoon by now and was sitting by the fire, huddled under several blankets and sipping on hot tea while Elladan and Elrohir hovered over Alex who had been placed inside his sleeping bag and brought as close to the fire as possible.

It was only then that anyone bothered to speak out loud.

"You know, Laurendil is more than capable of tending to young Alex," Finrod said to Glorfindel, speaking softly in Quenya, "or even Vardamir." He nodded to one of the Noldor standing over the Twins, his expression definitely one of professional interest, a healer watching other healers. All the Valinórean Elves had returned to the camp during the time they’d been out looking for the lost, and they looked soberly on as the Twins continued working on Alex.

"I know," Glorfindel said in the same language, "but Alex knows and trusts the Twins. He is more likely to respond favorably to them than to Laurendil or Vardamir, however competent as healers they may be. And, unlike them, the Twins have had extensive experience over the ages in treating Mortals and know what they can and cannot endure."

Finrod nodded, but before he could comment, Valandur joined them. "I’ve sent the youngsters to sit in your... carriage."

"It’s called a van," Glorfindel corrected with a smile.

Finrod gave him an amused look. "It is called a ‘goose’?" he asked, speaking English. "Whyever for?"

Glorfindel chuckled. "No, it is not a goose, you goose. ‘Van’ is the English word for it. It’s short for caravan, a vehicle that allows you to transport several people, more than a conventional car which usually can only transport about five people. A van can transport twice as many. It’s something like a carriage, but carriages are horse-drawn."

"At any rate, I have sent them to sit in the van for a time," Valandur said, also speaking English. "What wouldst thou do with them?" he asked Finrod.

"Besides sending them home, which is not possible?" he asked rhetorically. "Methinks we shall let them remain there for the night. You may have food sent to them and if they must needs relieve themselves, they may do so, but they remain in the van until I say elsewise. Until Alex has recovered, I will not pass judgment upon them. Methinks Alex should be there when I do."

"Fair enough," Valandur said, casting a concerned look at the still sleeping Mortal and at Derek, still huddled under the blankets, now munching on deer meat. He shook his head. "This was to be a happy reunion among friends," he said, now speaking Quenya again, "but I fear those elflings may have ruined it for us, at least where the Mortals are concerned. I saw the look on Derek’s face when our three youngsters finally showed up."

"Derek is very protective of Alex," Glorfindel said. "They have declared one another otornor and Alex has gone through much in the last few weeks. He is not fully recovered from his ordeal."

"How is he?"

They all turned to see Derek calling out to the Twins.

"He’s fine, Derek," Elladan said. "He’s merely sleeping. All his vitals are strong. He’ll be right as rain by the morning. We’re going to keep him here by the fire tonight. Now, let’s take a look at you."

"I’m fine," Derek protested even as the Twins moved to join him where he was sitting. "All I needed was something hot to eat. I’ll be even more fine once I’ve had a chance to wring the necks of those little brats for pulling such a stupid stunt. Alex was nearly frozen when we found him. He could very well have died. I could have died. I know I was going in circles before Loren found me. I couldn’t see the mountain for the snow and knew I was never going to make it to the camp alive." He sneezed just then. "Damn! And now I dink I haf a cold." He sounded so forlorn that Glorfindel couldn’t help smiling as he knelt in front of the Mortal.

"Let’s get you into your sleeping bag and then Dan or Roy will put you into healing sleep."

"Will it help my cold?" Derek asked.

"I’m sure you’ll feel much better in the morning."

"Okay, but don’t kill those brats while we’re sleeping. Alex and I want to watch."

"Thou hast my word, Derek Lowell, that no punishment shall be meted out before the morrow," Finrod said solemnly. "Thou and Alex have the right to be present and to hear what excuse my son and his gwedyr have for themselves."

"Okay," Derek said. "I just need to see a man about a tree and then I’ll go to bed."

"I’ll escort you, so you don’t lose your way," Elrohir said and the two sauntered off. While they were gone, Elladan retrieved Derek’s sleeping bag, laying it beside Alex and when the young Man returned, he snuggled into it. Elrohir sang softly over him and in minutes he was fast asleep.

****

By morning, the snow had stopped and the sun came up, casting a warm golden glow about them. Derek woke to the smell of bacon sizzling in a pan and was glad to see Alex stirring as well. "Good morning," he whispered as Alex opened his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," Alex replied just as softly. "What happened?"

"We found you nearly frozen by the waterfall, but Dan and Roy say you should be fine. Are you?"

"I think so. I’ll know better once I’ve emptied my bladder and have had breakfast. Lord! What I wouldn’t give for a hot shower right now."

Derek chuckled. "You and me both. But c’mon. Let’s get ourselves cleaned up as best we can and have breakfast."

"What happened to the three amigos? Were they ever found?" Alex asked as he struggled out of his sleeping bag and looked for his boots which were sitting beside him. He casually strapped on the shoulder holster, which had been removed while he was asleep and placed beside his boots, taking out the gun and automatically checking its clip and the safety before shoving it back into the holster.

Derek’s expression darkened. "Yeah, they showed up. Larry’s dad is furious, though you would never know it from the way he acts, but you can see the fury in his eyes. I was told that they would wait until you were awake before they chewed out the brats." He flashed him a grin. "I ordered ringside seats for us both."

Alex grinned back as he stood. "Well, let’s not keep them waiting." He shrugged on his fleece jacket and made sure his head was covered before stepping out from under the tarp to be greeted by Vorondur, who gave him and Derek an appraising look. There was no one else in sight.

"You’d better hurry or those ringside seats will be taken," was all he said and both Mortals blushed, realizing that as softly as they’d been speaking, the Elf had still heard every word.

"C’mon, Alex," Derek said and going over to the tent, he retrieved their toiletry bags and a couple of towels and the two set off.

They were still finishing up their breakfast when the other Elves made an appearance. All of them smiled at the sight of the two Mortals sitting by the fire, drinking coffee and conversing readily enough with Vorondur, who’d volunteered to keep them company until Finrod was ready to hold the enquiry.

"You’re looking less blue," Glorfindel said to Alex, smiling as he approached them.

"No thanks to those orc-brained idiots who think they’re God’s gift to the rest of us," Alex groused. "Where are they, anyway?"

"In durance vile, for the moment," Glorfindel said soberly. "When you are ready, we will have them out and we can... discuss what occurred yesterday."

"Discuss... now that’s an interesting word," Derek said with a sneer. "Me, I’ll just settle for seeing those three having their bottoms tanned so they’re not able to sit for a week."

"If you have finished breaking your fast," Finrod said, "then we will proceed. They have been given the night to think over their misdeeds."

"And no doubt coming up with a plausible excuse," Alex retorted. "Well, let’s get it over with."

Derek sniffed. "Just let me refill my mug and I’m all set."

Finrod nodded to Laurendil and Valandur. "Let us have them out."

The two Elves headed for Glorfindel’s van while everyone else formed a silent ring around the fire. A minute or two later, Laurendil and Valandur returned with the three ellyn and Alex noted that they all looked somewhat bedraggled and less haughty.

As soon as they reached the campfire, Finrod gestured for them to stand to one side, opposite Alex and Derek so they were looking at one another across the fire. "Let us begin," he intoned solemnly and while he appeared no different to the eyes of the two Mortals, they both instinctively realized that it was not Finrod, Glorfindel’s friend and brother, who had spoken but Findaráto, Prince of Eldamar and once King of Nargothrond.

For a moment, no one spoke and Alex forced himself not to fidget, determined not to give these people, especially the three amigos, as he thought of them, the satisfaction. Then, Finrod turned to him and Derek. "Perhaps we will have your side of the story first," he said. Alex and Derek exchanged glances and shrugged almost as one, and then Derek gave him a nod. Resisting a sigh, he started to describe the journey to the valley. No one interrupted him, though all three of the young ellyn stirred slightly when he described the conversation they had had about walking on top of the snow. Finrod’s only comment was a raised eyebrow.

"So, anyway, when we got to the valley I know we were all standing together admiring the waterfall, but when I looked around, only Derek and I were there."

"What did you do?" Finrod asked.

"Had lunch," Alex replied with a shrug.

Several Elves blinked at the seeming non sequitur. Derek merely snorted in good humor as he took a sip of his coffee.

"You had... lunch," Finrod repeated slowly, as if he were not sure of the meaning of the words.

Alex nodded. "We figured they were just wandering around admiring the view, so Derek and I found a nice place to sit and ate, but then it was getting late and we could see the storm clouds building up and we knew it was time to leave. Only thing, Larry, Cal and Alan were still missing. We called to them...."

"And in Sindarin, no less," Derek interjected, speaking for the first time.

Alex nodded. "But they still didn’t answer."

"Thou didst name these three strangely," Valandur said.

Both Alex and Derek blushed. "Yeah, well, Larry, Cal and Alan are easier to say than Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen," Derek replied.

"Larry, Cal and Alan are common names among the Mortals of this society," Daeron said.

Glorfindel nodded in confirmation. "Though I think your son is more a Lawrence than a Larry. He’s far too serious," he said, flashing Finrod a grin.

"That’s what I said," Derek interjected before Finrod could respond. "But anyway, those were the names we thought of."

"And a worthy discussion for another time," Finrod said, giving them an amused look, which sobered almost immediately. "However, let us continue with this discussion. What steps did you take to find our sons?"

"When they didn’t show up, we split up," Alex continued, "and scoured the woods on either side, meeting where we had come down the hill into the valley. There was no sign of them."

"Yet, they were there," Finrod said, "hiding from you."

"Thou didst walk right past us," Findalaurë said with a sneer. "Thou dost not know much of woodlore to have missed us that wise."

"Á quildë!" Finrod hissed coldly, then spoke in a spate of Quenya that had all three ellyn blushing and paling at the same time. Alex noticed the grim looks on the faces of the other Elves. After a moment of silence as Finrod appeared to get himself under control, he turned to speak to the Mortals, his tone calm and impersonal.

"What happened next?"

"Not much," Derek said. "We decided I should go back to camp and get help while Alex stayed in the valley in case the three amigos finally showed up."

"Three what?" Laurendil asked, looking confused and Glorfindel actually burst out laughing while the other Wiseman Elves grinned.

"Three amigos," Daeron said, speaking as a loremaster. "Amigos is the Spanish word for friends, so the three friends. It is in reference, if I’m not mistaken, to a... um...story about three friends who are mistaken by others to be heroes when they are not, for up to then they had only pretended to be heroes." He paused, giving the three ellyn a significant look that did not escape anyone’s notice. Alex saw Findalaurë stiffen as if under a reprimand. "In the story," Daeron continued, "they eventually do become heroes, though more by accident than by design, a comedy of errors, you might say."

"Ah...." was Finrod’s only comment. He nodded. "We know Derek’s part in this for we met him wandering lost in the storm unable to find his way back to the camp. Had we not found him when we did, he could very well have died, but we must needs learn what happened in the valley with you, Alex."

"After Derek left, I tried to start a fire, but the wind kept blowing it out before I could really get it going no matter how I tried to shelter it and the snow just kept coming. When I was in the woods earlier I had noticed some fallen trees and I went there and made a sort of lean-to between two of the trees to protect myself. Then I sat there and waited."

"But we found you by the waterfall," Derek said.

Alex nodded. "At some point I... I guess I started to hallucinate. I could’ve sworn Amroth was right there in front of me, urging me to get up and move down to the valley, saying you wouldn’t find me otherwise."

"And we wouldn’t have, or rather, we would have eventually, but by then it would’ve been too late," Glorfindel said, casting a dark look upon the three ellyn.

There was a pause as everyone contemplated the import of Glorfindel’s words. Then Finrod said, "So, let us have your side of the story, my children."

Findalaurë apparently had been elected as spokesman for the three ellyn, for without hesitation, he spoke. "We did nothing wrong, Atto," he began, but Finrod cut him off with a cold look and the ellon blushed. "I mean... my lord," he amended.

"You hid from Alex and Derek and refused to answer their call," Laurendil said.

"We do not answer to Mortals," Findalaurë retorted. "We did not originally plan to hide, but when they called to us, we decided to have some fun with them. It was most amusing seeing them floundering about in the woods like clumsy orcs trying to find us."

"Why you...."

Derek had to physically restrain Alex, who had leapt to his feet, pushing him back down. It was an injudicious move on Alex’s part, for he suddenly started coughing and hacking deep in his lungs, his chest constricting and he hugged himself against the pain. Elrohir was immediately by his side with water, urging him to drink.

"I... I can’t...breathe... I...." Alex gasped, still clutching his ribs.

Laurendil and Vardamir moved almost as one, each laying a hand on Alex’s chest and forehead and they began singing. After five minutes, Alex’s breathing returned to normal and he sighed in relief, sagging against Derek’s shoulder. Derek put an arm around him, while Laurendil and Vardamir consulted with Elrohir and Elladan in softly spoken Sindarin.

Finrod stepped over to kneel beside the two Mortals. "Thine injuries from the avalanche still cause thee pain," he said solicitously.

"Bruised my ribs in the fall," Alex answered. "Bone bruises take forever to heal and it’s hard to take a deep breath."

"Getting himself half frozen to death didn’t help," Derek added with a frown.

"And for that, I am sorry," Finrod said quietly.

"Not your fault," Alex said, then suffered another coughing spell, though this one was not as strong and he recovered almost immediately. He leaned against Derek and closed his eyes. "Please don’t let me come down with bronchitis or pneumonia," he whispered. "I can’t deal with that."

Elrohir came and stood over him, handing him more water. "I promise, we won’t let that happen. Now, keep breathing normally and don’t do anything sudden."

Alex just nodded, accepting the water and drinking it slowly. Finrod, meanwhile, stood, his expression becoming colder than the snow lying about them.

"I cannot believe that I sacrificed myself for a Mortal only to have my own son, and the sons of my kin, dishonor that sacrifice by their ill treatment of one of Beren’s descendants."

"Was it worth it?" Findalaurë retorted, glowering at Alex and Derek.

"Excuse me?" Finrod said in a whisper, paling. The other Elves acting as witnesses all stirred and there were looks of disbelief on more than one face.

Findalaurë looked up at his father. "Was it worth it, my lord? All my life, I have heard the tales of how you gave up everything for one of them." He nodded towards Alex and Derek and Derek kept his arm firmly around Alex’s shoulders to prevent him from jumping up again. Finrod’s son continued speaking. "In my mind it seemeth that these Mortals were great of stature, worthy to be called heroes alongside those of our own people, worthy to fight alongside us in the coming war. Yet, when we come here, what do we find?" He sneered at the Mortals. "They seem not to be so very great after all."

Both Alex and Derek paled in mortification and anger, but they held their peace, knowing that this was something that had to be dealt with by Finrod, who gave the three ellyn a cold look. "And so, disappointed that thy fantasy did not live up to reality, thou didst decide to treat Alex and Derek with contempt, even to the point of endangering their very lives. But thou knowest as good as thy name — which is fool" — the three ellyn flinched — "all that I have taught thee of Mortals, that while they may be weaker than us physically, they have strengths of will that compensate and make them worthy of our respect. Didst thou forget all my teachings, my son, in thine arrogance?" He paused for a second, glancing at Alex and Derek, the only ones sitting, both of them huddled as close to the fire as they could, looking indeed weak in comparison to the Elves surrounding them. He smiled at them, though they did not see, for they were both glaring at the ground by their feet.

"I would gladly give my life again for the Mortals of this time," Finrod said softly.

"Well, you might be happy to do so," Glorfindel said with a snort of amusement, "but I doubt Lord Námo would be pleased to see your sorry fëa cluttering up his doorstep again."

Finrod turned to Glorfindel, giving him an arch look. "And you, Brother?"

"Oh, I’d be right there beside you, giving the Lord of Mandos grief," Glorfindel said. "You’re not the only one who can be noble and willing to sacrifice himself, even for a Mortal."

"That wasn’t the impression I got when Derek and I showed up at Edhellond Sunday," Alex couldn’t help saying, casting Glorfindel a wry look.

Glorfindel blushed. "Not one of my finest moments, I know."

Alex waved a hand in dismissal. "We all make mistakes. The trick is to learn from them." He cast a significant look at the three ellyn, none of whom was willing to meet his gaze.

"Aye, there is the rub," Laurendil said with a nod. "Mistakes are made, ofttimes costly ones, but if we deign to learn from them, then we have done what is needful. Ye three think yourselves warriors simply because of your training and the fact that you are allowed to carry weapons, but I say unto you, no warrior would have acted as you have, callously watching another slowly freeze to death. No warrior would have treated even an enemy with such disregard. I cannot speak for either Finrod or Valandur, but as for myself, I think I will hold onto thy sword for a time, Calandil, until thou hast proven thyself worthy of it in mine eyes."

Calandil paled and the other two looked concerned.

"A worthy punishment," Finrod said with a nod. "Yes. In fact, I shall go one better and give thy sword to Alex, my son, for his safekeeping and it will be for him to decide if thou art full worthy of wearing it."

"And I will give thy sword to Derek," Valandur said, speaking to Elennen. "When he decideth thou’rt worthy of bearing weapons again, then thou mayest have thy sword back."

"Is this agreeable to you both?" Finrod asked the Mortals.

"Well, I don’t think I want to have to figure out how to hide a sword in my room," Alex said, "but if you can hold on to it for me, sure. And I think, since he’s your son, that we should agree together whether he should have his sword back or not."

"The same for me," Derek said.

Finrod nodded, looking pleased. "It will be as thou hast said. We will keep the swords in trust and when thou thinkest that my son doth deserve to have it returned to him, then we will discuss it between us."

"That holds true for me," Valandur said.

"And for me as well," Laurendil chimed in.

"Then, this enquiry is over," Finrod intoned. "What further punishment may be placed upon you three will be decided later, once we reach Wiseman. For now, ye are assigned to menial tasks here in camp and will not be allowed to leave it to explore. Ye will especially see to the comfort of Alex and Derek and see that they lack for nothing while we are here."

"We don’t need servants," Derek protested. "We’re quite capable of looking after ourselves."

"Nevertheless, for today, these three will attend to your needs. Perhaps in the serving of those they consider beneath them, they will find a measure of humilty."

"Well, if you insist," Derek said with a drawl, "I guess they can start by getting me another cup of coffee." He held out his mug, giving the three ellyn an expectant look. All three grimaced and finally Elennen moved and reached for the mug. Alex silently held out his own and this time it was Calandil who took it, while Findalaurë looked on in disbelief.

As Elennen handed the mug back to Derek, the Mortal thanked him, which surprised him and his expression was more thoughtful. Alex thanked Calandil as well. Taking a sip or two, he looked around at the Elves still standing there. "Class dismissed," he said, raising an eyebrow.

****

Words are Quenya:

Van: Goose.

Otorno: Equivalent to gwador.

Á quildë!: ‘Silence!’

Fëa: Soul, spirit.

59: Sneaking into Wiseman

While they were all together still, Finrod spent a few moments introducing Alex and Derek to the other Valinórean Elves. Most of the names of those whom Finrod introduced to Alex and Derek meant nothing to the two Mortals. They met several ellyn who apparently were close friends, perhaps even gwedyr, of Glorfindel as well as Finrod. They appeared to be a mixture of Sindar, Vanyar and Noldor. The Mortals attempted to remember their names but it was a lost cause and they just ended up smiling, with Derek going all tour-guidey, as Alex called it, saying, “Welcome to Alaska. We hope you enjoy your stay” over and over again until Alex finally punched him in the arm to make him stop. Derek gave him a mock frown.

“What? I’m just practicing my spiel,” he protested.

“Well, go practice somewhere else,” Alex growled back. “See those trees over there? I’m sure they’d love to hear your little speech.”

The Elves grinned and one of them said something in Quenya that set the others snickering, but they refused to translate for the Mortals.

There were, however, some names that were very familiar to them and they stared in awe when Finrod introduced Beleg Strongbow. Even Derek was dumbfounded. Beleg, for his part, gazed upon them with humor. “I see my reputation precedeth me.”

“We... we read about you in our history book,” Alex said faintly.

Beleg raised an eyebrow. “History is overrated,” he said with a sniff. “I would not believe everything you have read about me.”

“Just most of it,” Glorfindel quipped and everyone else laughed, including Beleg.

Then Finrod introduced them to two others. “This is Legolas of Gondolin and this is Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen.”

“Two Legolases!” Derek exclaimed.

“So how do we tell them apart?” Alex asked.

“He is the pretty one,” Legolas of Gondolin said, pointing to his namesake.

“No, no, thou hast it all wrong,” Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen protested. “I am the intelligent one.”

“Oh? And how hast thou figured that?” the first Legolas demanded.

“Because I am a prince and thou art not,” the second Legolas retorted with a smirk.

“So, if I yell ‘Prince!’ that means you will answer?” Alex said with a straight face.

“Sounds like a dog’s name to me,” Derek chimed in with a wicked grin. “Here, Prince! Heel, Prince. Good boy.” He patted an imaginary dog on its head.

Legolas of Gondolin laughed, gabbling something in rapid-fire Sindarin, and Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen scowled, growling something back that did not sound at all complementary. Glorfindel stepped in just then, giving them a wide grin. “We’ll figure it out later. For now, it’s Prince Legolas and Greenleaf.” He gave the two Mortals a significant look and both of them nodded.

“Prince Legolas, welcome to Alaska,” Derek said in all seriousness, giving him a bow.

“Greenleaf, welcome to Alaska,” Alex said, giving his own bow.

“Thy friends are most irreverent,” Finrod observed, sounding not at all upset, while Alex and Derek blushed.

Glorfindel shrugged. “They’re Americans,” he replied. “They’re less impressed by titles and more impressed by deeds. Their ancestors came to this continent and forged one of the greatest nations ever seen among Men and they did it with little more than grit and determination and a lot of native ingenuity.”

“As it should be,” Finrod said approvingly. “And now, let me introduce you to the ellith,” he said and Alex couldn’t help noting how Glorfindel’s eyes lit up, as did Daeron’s, and he stored that information away even as he gave as graceful a bow as he could when introduced to Laurendil’s wife, Manwen. She smiled on them benignly.

“It giveth me sorrow to think that our great-grandson would treat you as he hath,” she said. “I hope in time you can all become friends.”

“I’m sure Cal is an okay kid,” Alex said. “He just needs to get down from his high horse and join the rest of us peons on the ground.”

Manwen blinked. “I think I understand what thou sayest, my Lord Alex, but thy words are a bit confusing.”

“He just means that Calandil should not act so haughty when he has no right to be so,” Vorondur offered, “and that, of course, applies to the other two, and indeed to everyone here. The Mortals outnumber us and we must keep that in mind at all times.”

“And I’m not a lord,” Alex said with a smile. “I’m Mr. Grant, if you want to address me formally, but otherwise, it’s just Alex.”

“And I am Manwen,” the wife of Laurendil said with a smile.

“And this is Helyanwë, who is the great-granddaughter of Glorfindel’s other brother, Sador, and his wife, Alassiel,” Finrod then said, introducing them to a fair-haired elleth with green eyes who gave them a shy smile and a curtsey.

“Other brother?” Derek asked.

“Glorfindel and Sador are my brothers,” Finrod said with a warm smile to the balrog-slayer. “When they were released from Mandos, neither had family who could take them in, so my atar, my father, informally adopted them and we consider ourselves brothers.”

“Well, we’re pleased to meet you... uh... Lady Hely...um... Helen,” Derek stuttered, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, these Quenya names are so long, not like names in Sindarin.”

“Iris would be a translation from the Greek, for the name means ‘rainbow’,” Glorfindel explained, “but Helen suits as well, for it means ‘light’ and it is close in sound to Helyanwë.”

“The name can also be rendered as Helena, Ellen, Elena or Elaine,” Daeron added. “It is a popular name among the Mortals. We really will have to come up with appropriate names for everyone,” he ended with a sigh.

“Something we’ll deal with once we get back to Wiseman,” Glorfindel said. “Now, here is the Lady Melyanna, Beleg’s great-great-granddaughter.”

Both Mortals greeted her and she gave them a frank look, nodding in acknowledgment. “Ye are welcomed to me,” she said, her voice a pleasing contralto. Alex noted that Daeron’s eyes never left her, but if she noticed, she gave no sign.

“And this is Nielluin,” Finrod then said, introducing an elleth whose hair was similar to Finrod’s silvery-golden locks and her eyes were a deep, brilliant blue.

“Hello,” she said forthrightly, giving them a smile. “I’m glad to meet you. Are you really a spy? How exciting. And you sailed on your oceans? That’s so cool.”

Everyone just stared at the elleth in open-mouthed amazement. “Hey! How come you speak real English when no one else does?” Derek blurted out without thinking.

Nielluin giggled. Alex couldn’t help noticing the glare of disgust that Findalaurë shot her way as he was helping to bring in more firewood. “That’s because I went to Lord Námo and asked him how Mortals spoke these days. I didn’t quite trust Lords Aulë and Ulmo. They smirked too much when we were attempting to learn English.”

“And thou didst not deign to inform the rest of us?” Finrod asked, sounding not at all upset but looking rather admiringly at the elleth.

“Sorry, Uncle,” Nielluin said, looking not at all apologetic. “It was too fine a jest and I did not wish to spoil it.”

“So why Lord Námo?” Alex asked.

“Uncle?” Derek asked almost at the same time.

“Nielluin is the daughter of my sister, Galadriel,” Finrod explained. “She was... um... a surprise. Even my sister did not expect to find herself with child again, but I understand the reunion between her and Celeborn when he finally Sailed was quite... um... emotional.”

“Not to say loud,” Laurendil added with a wicked look.

Finrod snorted and there were knowing grins on many of the faces of the Valinórean Elves, while the Twins looked shocked.

“Grandmother?” Elrohir asked

“And Grandfather?” Elladan added and they both looked at Nielluin with something like horror. Then Elladan gave Finrod an accusing look. “You said she was merely a kinswoman. I assumed you meant a descendant of one of your brothers or cousins. Why did you not tell us the truth?”

“Because I asked him not to,” Nelluin said, “not until we got to know one another better… Nephew."

“So why did you go to Lord Námo for instruction?” Alex asked again, deciding to deflect whatever comment Elladan looked to be about to make.

“He has the most contact with Mortals who come to him before leaving the Circles of Arda,” Nielluin explained with a delicate shrug. “I figured if anyone knew how Mortals spoke these days, it would be him.”

“Smart as well as beautiful,” Derek said with an approving look. “A great combination.”

“Down boy,” Alex said with a grin. “She’s old enough to be your grandmother a thousand times over.”

“But I like older women,” Derek protested. “And if it was good enough for Beren or Tuor....”

“Oh please, let’s not go there,” Alex pleaded. “It’s like cradle-robbing in reverse. Anyway, not to change the subject, but has anyone thought to call Amroth and let him and the ellith know who’s coming? They really should be warned of an impending invasion, don’t you think?”

“Can you even get a signal out here?” Derek asked, fishing out his cell phone and checking it.

“We contacted them last night,” Glorfindel told them. “So, I wouldn’t worry about it. For now, you should rest, Alex. We’ll be leaving for Wiseman once it’s full dark, but I think perhaps Derek should drive if you’re willing and give you a break.”

“No problem,” Alex said.

“Then, in the meantime, perhaps you and Derek would like to tell us about what Mortals are like these days,” Finrod suggested. “We would learn all that we can about you and those who attend Elf Academy.”

“Sure. I guess,” Alex said a bit dubiously. “Just let me use the latrine and then I’ll be all set.”

“I’ll join you,” Derek said and together they sauntered off while the Elves waited for their return.

****

The rest of the morning was spent answering questions about Mortals and life in the modern era, the problems and concerns of the day. Alex and Derek answered as best they could, pointing out such things as the less formal manner that American young people had towards authority.

“It’s not that they are being rude, you have to understand,” Derek told them, “it’s that they are simply being forthright and are not afraid to express their opinions.”

“Especially their low opinions of their elders,” Alex added with a grin. “When I was fifteen, I was convinced that most adults took stupid pills every morning.”

Several of the Elves laughed at that and someone commented in Quenya that had many of the older Elves roaring. It took them a few minutes to calm down and then Finrod asked about the typical day at the Academy and what they had been learning. By noon, Alex could feel himself flagging and Glorfindel insisted that the questioning stop for now to allow the Mortals to have some lunch. “And then, I think you should lie down and rest for a while,” he said to Alex and it was a testament to the Man’s condition that he did not argue, but went dutifully to his sleeping bag as soon as he was finished eating. Finrod had retrieved a harp from his bags and Alex drifted off to sleep with the sound of soft plucking.

He woke around four and spent a little time wandering in the nearby woods with Derek to get some exercise. Derek informed him that while he’d been sleeping, it’d been decided to keep to the same order when they pulled out. “Which means we’re stuck with Larry and his gang,” he ended ruefully.

“At least we’re only a couple of hours from Wiseman,” Alex said philosophically, “and I suppose we do need to get used to one another. Has Glorfindel indicated how we’re going to sneak twenty-four Elves into Wiseman? Certain people are bound to notice.”

“By that you mean Farrell,” Derek said.

“And others,” Alex added. “I know from talking with Ron that there are some naysayers in Wiseman who are against the Elves being here, though luckily, they are in the minority.”

“Yet, even minority opinions can be influential,” Derek pointed out, “and if these people feel threatened by the existence of Elves, they’re going to be even more so when this lot shows up.”

“Which means they need to be very circumspect in their dealings with us,” Alex said. “I don’t envy Loren and Darren. They’re the ones who will have to deal with it all.”

“Yeah. You and I will just have to deal with the final exam,” Derek said.

“And I never intended to remain long enough to take it,” Alex countered with a rueful look. “I still have no desire to be a Christmas Elf.”

“Well, if you’re leaving the spy business behind, you need to have some kind of employment,” Derek pointed out. “At least being an Elf Guide for a month or so will give you some money while you decide what you want to do next. Do you think you’ll stay on here in Wiseman?”

“Don’t know. What about you?”

Derek shrugged. “Not sure, myself. I think I need to go home, talk it over with my dad. Oh, not about Elves, but about returning to Alaska. Like you, I’m going to need to find some kind of employment to justify my existence. Maybe I’ll get hired by one of the resorts or something. I know some of the students end up getting hired permanently. I could do that. We’ll just have to see.”

“But first, we, or rather, I need to deal with Farrell and the Agency and get Amroth and Elf Academy off the hook. These people can’t afford to have the government breathing down their necks all the time.”

“And the Thanksgiving deadline is coming up,” Derek said with a nod. “Well, you know if I can help in any way, I will.”

“And I appreciate it,” Alex said with a smile. “Let’s go back to camp. I’m getting cold again.”

They returned to the campsite. Some of the Elves were about, but most were away. Vorondur was there, speaking with Vardamir. The two Elves looked up as they approached, giving them smiles. “You both look a bit blue,” Vorondur said. “Come sit by the fire and I’ll make you some hot soup. Supper won’t be for a while.”

Both Alex and Derek agreed and Vardamir threw a couple of warm blankets around them. He eyed them both clinically and Alex couldn’t help blushing, pulling his hat down in an unconscious manner.

“We were discussing human psychology,” Vorondur said conversationally as he ladled some vegetable soup into a couple of tin mugs, handing them to the Mortals. “I was explaining to Vardamir about my work as a psychiatrist.”

“You must have a lot of fun playing mind games with us,” Derek said.

“Do you think so?” Vorondur shot back. “I have studied you humans for millennia and in doing so have come to understand my own people better. We are not as different as you might think. I told Alex that if you think we Elves are perfect in every way then you are sadly mistaken and certainly our history shows this. In studying humans in all their particulars, I’ve come to understand what has driven us Elves, and me especially. Did I not tell you that I have done terrible things in my life?” he asked Alex who nodded. “For a long time I could not understand how I had allowed myself to descend into such darkness and madness or even how I managed to pull myself out of it. I began studying human behavior as a means of learning about myself and my own motivations. In many ways, you humans were the saving of me and for that I will always be grateful.”

Both Alex and Derek had thoughtful looks as they sipped on their soup. Vardamir asked them a question about their experiences in dealing with different cultures and Derek spent some time regaling the Elves about his adventures at sea while Alex spoke a little about working in the Middle East and trekking across most of Asia on the Silk Route as a tourist.

As the evening approached, the other Elves returned to the campsite and after supper, they began striking the camp and loading up the cars. The Wiseman Elves huddled around Glorfindel as they discussed how they would enter the town. Alex and Derek joined them.

“There’s the road leading to Nolan,” Daeron pointed out, speaking of a small village just north of Wiseman. “I suggest that some of us head that way and come into Wiseman from that direction.”

“I can go further east and pick up the bypass to the main highway and come in from that direction,” Elladan offered and Glorfindel nodded.

“Gil, you go to Nolan, then come south. Swing around to the college and return to Edhellond from that direction. Dan, do as you suggested and when you come into Wiseman, go down Morningside and cross the bridge at Fitzpatrick. Ron and I will go in the same way we came out. Derek, you’ll follow us in, but once we get to Wiseman, go directly to the Academy and stay there. Someone will come and escort Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen from there.”

“Or they can just stay there,” Alex suggested. “The less movement there is that time of night the less noticeable we’ll be. I’m assuming that by taking these different routes, people are going to show up at Edhellond at different times?”

“Yes, that’s the idea,” Glorfindel replied. “Dan will have the furthest to go and it should be well after midnight before he gets home. Gil should be the first to arrive because I’m going to stop when we’re about a mile out of town. Ron, once we’ve stopped, you will wait fifteen minutes then go on. Derek you will leave fifteen minutes after that and then I’ll follow later. The time gap should be enough so there’s no connection between vehicles arriving.”

“And that’s assuming anyone’s keeping a watch on Edhellond and the Academy,” Alex pointed out.

“We have to assume they are,” Vorondur said. “I like Alex’s idea of having the youngsters remain at the Academy, but I don’t know how we will explain them to the other students.”

“And they’re not properly dressed,” Derek pointed out. “You-all are going to have to do a whole lot of shopping to outfit everyone in appropriate clothes.”

“Could they borrow some of yours until we can get them their own clothes?” Roy asked.

“Yeah, sure, I guess,” Derek answered a bit dubiously. “But how do we explain them?”

“I’ll think of something,” Alex said. “After all, it’s my job to come up with identities and all. If you can impress upon them that they need to remain in one place, the reading room, I think, until either I or Derek come get them, then I suppose that will work. I’m not going to have them in our room while we’re sleeping.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I will speak with Finrod and make sure they understand the game plan. They will be obedient or there will be consequences. The reading room sounds like the best place for them. By my estimation, you should reach the Academy around one o’clock. With it being the weekend, the place should be virtually deserted with most of your classmates in town enjoying themselves at the bars.”

“Which is where I wish we were,” Derek groused and the Elves all smiled in agreement.

Once everyone was satisfied with the plan, Glorfindel called over Finrod and speaking softly in Sindarin, explained what had been decided. Finrod, in turn, called over Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen. There was another discussion, in Quenya this time, with Glorfindel speaking almost as authoritatively as Finrod, casting a stern look upon the three younger ellyn. None of them looked particularly happy but they all nodded. Then Glorfindel reverted to English for the benefit of the two Mortals.

“Alex and Derek will lend you some appropriate clothing and you will spend the rest of the night in what is called the reading room where you can entertain yourselves by reading. In the morning, they will bring you to Edhellond.” He turned to the Mortals. “If you leave early enough, most of the others will still be sleeping and you will be less noticeable.”

“We’ll set our alarm for seven and be out at your place by eight,” Alex said and Glorfindel nodded.

“Do not disappoint me, my son,” Finrod said to Findalaurë. “Show me that thou canst be mindful of what Alex and Derek tell thee, for they know what they are about and thou art about to enter a world that is alien to thee.”

“Yes, Atto,” Findalaurë said meekly enough.

Then, they were ready to leave. This time, the three ellyn got into the car without protest or difficulty and Derek got behind the wheel. They drove in silence for the most part and at some point Gil veered off and headed northeast along with Dan while the rest continued on, stopping as Glorfindel had said when they were about a mile or so from the outskirts of the town. After fifteen minutes, Ron went on and then fifteen minutes later, Derek started the motor and continued. Alex waved at Glorfindel as they passed the van.

“When you come to the first intersection, hang a left,” Alex said.

“That’ll take us away from the college,” Derek protested.

“Yeah, I know, but I’ve decided to come in by way of Aurora instead of on Royal Meadows,” Alex explained. “It’ll look as if we’ve been downtown.”

Derek nodded and took the route Alex had suggested, wending their way past dark houses and silent streets, coming into the center of town and picking up Aurora. Alex glanced back and saw with amusement the wide-eyed stare of the three Elves as they craned their necks to get a better view of the town. Most of it was dark, save for the glaring neon signs of the two bars they passed, the sound of a live bluegrass band coming from one of them. Eventually, they were entering the college campus and Derek brought the car directly to the front.

“Okay, everyone out and then I’ll go park,” Derek said. “What about the stuff in the trunk?”

“Leave it. We’ll unload tomorrow after we get these three to Edhellond,” Alex said as he climbed out of the car. The three ellyn piled out as well, looking around with great interest.

“I’ll be right back,” Derek said and he put the car in motion, going to the Academy parking lot. A few minutes later he was back, handing the keys to Alex, who then unlocked the front door, leading them all in, going directly to the reading room. He went in, turning on the lights and checking the Nook to be sure no one was there making out.

“You have plenty of books,” he said to the three Elves. “Let’s get you some clothes. If you need to... um... relieve yourself, Derek can show you where to go.”

“Gee, thanks,” Derek said sardonically. “Well, c’mon. I had better show you now when no one is around. Go ahead and raid my closet if you need to, Alex. I think Cal is closer in size to me than to you.”

Alex nodded and they all trooped out, heading up the stairs to the third floor. Derek led the Elves into the bathroom while Alex went down to their room and spent several minutes grabbing sweats and t-shirts, figuring they would do for the moment. He then went back and checked on the bathroom to find them all still there checking out the showers while Derek was explaining which tap was for hot and which for cold.

“Here. You can change here and I’ll take your clothes and put them in our room while Derek takes you back to the reading room. We’ll be back down shortly after seven. You can come up and freshen up before we head to Edhellond.”

In minutes the three Elves had changed their clothes. They looked decidedly uncomfortable in them. Alex just shrugged as he gathered their own clothes and then Derek was leading them away. Ten minutes later he was back in their room. “Well, they’re settled for the night, I hope. It’s almost two. We’d better get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Yeah, so am I. Do you think everyone else is back in Edhellond by now?”

“Probably. I still would like to know where they’re going to put them all and how we’re going to explain twenty-four new Elves.”

“Well, that’s Loren’s problem,” Alex said around a yawn as he climbed into bed and snuggled under the covers, giving a sigh of contentment.

Derek turned out the light and got into his own bed. Five minutes later, they were both fast asleep. And down in the reading room, the three ellyn were sitting together in the Nook, quietly comparing notes on their impressions of the Mortals and the world they now found themselves in.

60: ‘And this is my Cousin Larry....’

When the alarm went off at seven Alex groaned as he fumbled to turn it off. Derek cracked open an eye, raising his head to see over the desks and glared at him.

"I hate you," he mumbled, then hid his face in his pillow.

"I hate you, too," Alex retorted as he struggled to extricate himself from the bedclothes. "C’mon. Let’s grab a shower and get the three amigos out of here before anyone sees them."

"I hope they behaved themselves while we were sleeping," Derek said as he climbed out of bed and grabbed his bathrobe, sliding his feet into slippers.

"We’ll find out," was all Alex said.

About fifteen minutes later, shaved and showered and more or less awake, they grabbed their coats and hats and the duffle bag with the Elves’ clothing and went downstairs to the reading room. Opening the door, they didn’t see anyone at first. Alex felt a moment’s panic and then walked around the stacks to the Nook and forced himself not to breathe a sigh of relief. All three ellyn were sitting there. Calandil and Findalaurë had their eyes half opened in sleep while Elennen was perusing a book. He looked up at Alex and Derek.

"We have been taking turns resting," he said quietly, closing the book. Alex read the title — The Grapes of Wrath.

"It’s time to go," Alex said softly. "If you need to use the bathroom, now’s the time to do it. I’m going out to get the car. Derek will stay with you."

Elennen nodded and was gently shaking Findalaurë even as Alex headed for the door, giving Derek last-minute instructions. "Don’t let them dawdle. I want them out of here as quickly as possible."

Derek nodded and Alex left. He brought the car around to the front and was relieved to see Derek and the three ellyn standing in the foyer. They came out and climbed into the car and were off.

"I hope it wasn’t too boring for you sitting around like that," Alex said conversationally.

"We managed," Findalaurë replied rather shortly and Alex gave Derek a significant look and shrugged.

"Well, we’ll be at Edhellond soon," was all he said and concentrated on driving while the three Elves stared out the windows, now able to see the town in daylight. There were two or three early-morning joggers and an elderly couple walking their poodle. They passed one house where three children, perhaps nine or ten years old, were building a snowman and lobbing snowballs at each other while an older teen was shoveling the drive. Then, they were turning onto the street where Edhellond was and driving between the gates. Alex brought the car to a stop. "Everyone out," he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and even as they were getting out of the car, the front door opened and Amroth was there, smiling at them.

"Come in, come in," he gestured to them. "Don’t bother with the bags, Alex. We’ll deal with them later. We have breakfast ready for you."

The five of them went inside and once Alex and Derek were shed of their coats, they made their way down the hall to the kitchen with the three ellyn gazing about them in wonder.

"Is this a typical dwelling of Mortals?" Calandil asked.

"Not really," Alex answered. "This was built by a wealthy person. Most people live in more modest circumstances."

Then they were in the kitchen, which was very crowded with Elves, though a fair number of them were congregated around the dining room table as well. Glorfindel was at the stove flipping pancakes wearing his ‘Kiss the cook’ apron while Finrod was dishing out a fresh fruit salad into small bowls. The other Wiseman Elves were setting out plates and cutlery or visiting with the Valinórean Elves, while Elladan was showing a very attentive Valandur how to make coffee from the Mr. Coffee machine. All of the Valinórean Elves were dressed in clothes obviously borrowed from the Wiseman Elves. Finrod, for instance, was wearing a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved tee-shirt with the words ‘I’d rather be fishing’ across the front with a screen print of a man sleeping in a boat holding a pole. His feet were bare and his hair was bound in a simple braid down his back. He looked up from his work and smiled at the newcomers.

"Good morrow to you," he said cheerfully.

Alex and Derek greeted him readily enough, but the three ellyn, Findalaurë especially, just stood there, gaping at the scene. Alex wasn’t sure if it was the sight of Finrod dressed as he was that astounded them, or the fact that the Prince was doing something so menial as dishing out fruit.

Glorfindel looked over his left shoulder, giving them a smile. "Breakfast will be ready soon. Alex, there’s maple syrup in the fridge. You want to bring it out and take that pan and fill it with water and then we’ll heat the syrup. Derek, check the homefries, will you, and turn the bacon."

The two Mortals complied with their orders while Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen were recruited to take the filled fruit cups out to the dining room even as Finrod was retrieving a pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator and setting it on the dining room table. Everyone was speaking in a mixture of Quenya and Sindarin. Alex watched Finrod interacting with the other Elves, obviously joking about something because they all laughed and then someone, whom Alex remembered being introduced as Mithlas, said something that caused Finrod to blush, and Glorfindel called out something from the kitchen and everyone, including Finrod, roared with laughter. Everyone, that is, except the three amigos. Findalaurë had a pained look on his face and the other two ellyn looked equally distraught. No one paid them any attention.

Finally, as the pancakes were brought out, along with the bacon and homefries, people began serving themselves and out of respect for the Mortals switched to English.

There weren’t enough seats for everyone, so some were sitting in the breakfast nook and others were standing. One of the Elves at the table started to rise to offer Finrod his seat, but the ellon waved the other back, insisting he was fine where he was, standing by the sideboard with Glorfindel.

"So, what’s the game plan?" Alex finally asked.

"Well, thankfully, it’s Saturday," Glorfindel said. "I cancelled my Quenya class for the morning and we don’t have a council meeting, so we’re taking everyone shopping for clothes."

"All at once?" Derek asked. "Won’t that be... um... a bit conspicuous?"

"Not to mention dangerous?" Alex chimed in.

"And how would it be dangerous to purchase clothing for ourselves?" Finrod asked, looking amused.

Alex smirked. "Twenty-four drop-dead gorgeous Elves descend upon the unsuspecting residents of Wiseman and you think people aren’t going to notice? You ellyn will have every female over the age of twelve swooning at your feet and some of the older men are bound to suffer heart attacks at the sight of the ellith."

"He has a point," Barahir said, his expression bland.

Several of the Wiseman Elves snorted in amusement. Glorfindel shrugged. "We’ll take them in small groups. And, in fact, some are going to Fairbanks to shop there. Della needs maternity clothes and she doesn’t like what she’s found here, so she and Amroth will take a few people with them. They’ll stay the night and return sometime tomorrow."

Alex frowned. "Any sign of Farrell while we were camping?" he asked Amroth. "I don’t like the silence. I fed-exed the documents you gave me before we left, so Maddy should have gotten them by now, but when I checked my email this morning, she hadn’t responded. I also contacted one of my coworkers to get the scoop on Farrell and she hasn’t returned my email either."

"It is a concern," Amroth said with a nod. "That’s why when I return from Fairbanks, Della will not be returning with me. Alfa and Misty are going with us and they’ll stay in Fairbanks until we know Farrell and the other agents are out of the picture."

"I’d feel easier in my mind if Della was better covered. Two ellith...."

"Don’t worry," Glorfindel assured him. "I’ve arranged for suitable protection."

Alex nodded, looking more relieved. Amroth spoke again. "I’ve taken the liberty of giving Farrell’s description to Dave Michaelson and Carl Graff. There’s no APB out for him, but Michaelson and Graff will keep an eye out. Farrell was last seen at the Goldmine Inn but he checked out two days ago and no one’s seen him since."

"If we’re lucky, he’s been recalled to Washington," Alex said, "but the fact that I haven’t heard from Maddy makes me think that’s not the case and we haven’t seen the last of the so-and-so, not by a long shot."

"I agree," Amroth said. "We will have to be extra vigilant."

"So, not to change the subject, but I will anyway," Derek said with a grin, "what other arrangements are you making to integrate everyone into Wiseman?"

"Dan, Barry and Conan are going to look for apartments for some of us," Glorfindel said. "I know Amroth and Della will want their own place and Ron and Holly are thinking of doing the same and Roy and Sarah will as well. We’ll keep Finrod and his people here where they will be less noticeable."

"That sounds reasonable," Alex said. "And identity papers?"

"We have that covered," Daeron said. "I have a program that will...."

Alex raised a hand. "I don’t want to hear about it or else I may feel duty-bound to turn you all in as counterfeiters. Plausible deniability is the watchword of the day."

"Fair enough," Daeron said.

"One thing," Glorfindel said. "I got a call from Marian. They are extending classes one week."

"Why?" Derek asked.

"The resorts have decided to postpone their Christmas season openings until the weekend after Thanksgiving because of the storm. It did some major damage and they’re still recovering. So, you can continue with your classes this week and then the exam tours will be scheduled for the week of Thanksgiving and into the next week, with Thanksgiving and Black Friday free."

"That’s not going to sit well with the students," Alex said, "but I suppose we could all use the extra week. I know I fell way behind because of my accident."

"That’s another consideration," Glorfindel said. "Some of the students felt that they were not ready yet for the exam, so this extra week should help. And that leads us to the next thing."

Derek’s eyes narrowed. "Somehow, I don’t like the sound of that."

Glorfindel grinned but he did not reply. Instead, Finrod spoke. "It is a favor to me."

"What sort of favor?" Alex asked warily.

"I would like for you to take my son with you when you attend your classes."

"You’re kidding, right?" Alex demanded.

Finrod shook his head. "Nay. I wish for Finda... I mean, Larry, to learn about the young Mortals with whom he will be interacting. And that’s also true for Cal and Alan, as I believe you’ve named them."

"You want all three of them tagging along?" Derek asked. "How do we even explain them?"

"They are prospective students who are shadowing you to see what Elf Academy is all about," Daeron said in explanation.

"Since when?" Derek asked.

"Since just now," Glorfindel replied. "I know you two would rather face a horde of terrorists with just your bare hands instead but it’s important that these three learn more of the culture of the young people attending the college."

"Why them and not... uh... Helen and Nell and Annie?" Derek asked.

"Oh, am I Nell?" Nielluin asked, her eyes glowing with excitement. When Derek nodded, she clapped her hands with obvious delight. Her cousin Findalaurë glared at her in disgust.

Finrod cast her a fond look. "The ellith will be doing other things, but all of us need to learn what we can of this Mortal society in which we now abide. You already have a rapport with these three..."

"If you want to call it that," Alex said under his breath, sure that every Elf there would hear anyway.

"And that should make it easier," Finrod continued, ignoring Alex’s words.

"So how exactly do we introduce them to everyone?" Derek asked.

"Hi, I’m Larry and this is my brother Darryl and my other brother Darryl," Glorfindel replied, speaking in an odd New England accent, giving them all a wicked grin.

For a second, Derek just stared at him in open disbelief and then started laughing. All the Wiseman Elves joined him while the Valinórean Elves just looked confused. Alex finally succumbed to the humor of it all and chuckled, shaking his head. "You three okay with this?" he asked once people started calming down.

"Why dost thou ask, Mortal?" Findalaurë demanded. "It is plain that thou hast no liking for us and would see us shamed before all."

"Now, if you believe that, then you’re not only dead wrong, you’re being foolish as well," Alex retorted. "I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I’m willing to bend a little if you are. I know your dad is ordering you to do this, but I would much rather have you doing it of your own free will."

There was silence for a space while everyone waited for Findalaurë’s answer. Finally, he nodded. "Yes, I am willing to do this, but there is one thing."

"And what is that?" Finrod asked.

Now the younger ellon actually blushed. "Do I have to be Larry? I do not like the sound of it. I would rather be Lawrence."

"Lawrence it is," Alex said. "So, will you bring them over to the Academy in the morning or what?" he asked Glorfindel.

"I’m going to make arrangements to have them sleep at the Academy," the Elf-lord answered. "We have an extra dorm room on your floor that’s not being used and we can add another cot there if we remove the desks, which they won’t need. We’ll bring them over later today after we’ve done the shopping."

"Fine. I suppose Derek and I should get back to the campus and hit the books. We lost this entire week. Who took over the classes while we were away?"

"The Sindarin and history classes were taught by Alfa and Della while the ellith and Amroth handled the phys. ed. classes," Glorfindel replied. "The Nature Studies and Wilderness Survival courses were taken over by the rangers."

"So is there anything we need to know?" Alex asked.

"For Sindarin, we were working on subjunctive, wishes and obligations," Misty answered. "You can find the information in your textbook and I don’t think we need worry about your wilderness survival skills, do we?"

"Not mine," Alex said.

"Me neither," Derek chimed in.

"Then, I think you’re all set," Glorfindel said. "Why don’t you unload your car of anything belonging to us and then be on your way? We’ll bring them over before dinner and you can introduce them to your friends then."

The two Mortals nodded and once they were done with breakfast they said good-bye. Both Glorfindel and Finrod walked them to their car.

"Thank you," Finrod said to them. "I know what an imposition this is for the both of you."

"Hey, it’s not a problem," Alex assured him. "And it’s only for a week, right? I’m sure we’ll survive. We’ll see you later. Have fun shopping." The two got in the car and drove off.

****

Just as Alex and Derek were thinking about going to dinner, there came a knock on their door. Derek got up from the desk where he’d been studying and opened it to find Glorfindel, Finrod and the three younger ellyn there.

"We’ve already gotten them settled in their own room," Glorfindel said as they entered the room. "So they’re all yours."

"Okay. We were just about to go to dinner," Alex said, getting up.

Finrod said something in Quenya to the three ellyn and they all nodded. He gave each of them a kiss on the forehead and then he and Glorfindel left. "Well, let’s go eat," Alex said and they made their way down the hall to the lounge and the cafeteria where some of the students were already waiting in line to get in.

"Hey! Who’re the new guys?" someone exclaimed and several of the young men congregated around them.

"Ah, yeah, well, this is my... er... Cousin Lawrence and his friends, Cal and Alan," Alex said by way of introduction. "They’re interested in possibly joining Elf Academy next year and so they’re going to follow Derek and me around next week to see how we do things here."

"Is that something new?" Jack Whitman asked. "I don’t think they did anything like that last year."

"Yeah, it’s a... ah... pilot program," Derek replied. "If Lar... I mean, Lawrence, Cal and Alan give a favorable report on it they may institute it on a broader scale next year."

"So where do you-all hail from?" someone asked.

"Valinor," Findalaurë said before Alex or Derek could answer.

"Valinor? Where’s that? I’ve never heard of it."

"Sweden," Derek said.

"Finland," Alex said almost at the same time. He and Derek exchanged glances. "Er... that is, it’s sort of between Finland and Sweden, up there in Lapp country."

"You have family in Finland?" Nathan asked Alex in surprise. "I didn’t realize you were Finnish."

"Er... well, I’m not really, except way back. It’s kinda hard to explain," Alex stammered wishing he could just kill the three ellyn and be done with it.

"You’ve come all the way from Lapland to visit us?" Jack asked in disbelief. "I didn’t think we were international."

"Oh, well, the folks in Lapland heard about Elf Academy and thought it would be a good idea for their tourist industry so Lawrence, Cal and Alan are here to investigate how we do things here and then they’ll go back home and...."

"Those aren’t Scandinavian names, though," one of the other men pointed out, looking suspicious.

"My name is Findalaurë," Finrod’s son said somewhat haughtily, "but Lawrence is acceptable to me."

"Oh, okay," the young man said, clearly uncomfortable. "Ah... looks like the line is moving."

Everyone’s attention was now on entering the cafeteria. Alex, Derek and the ellyn joined them, staying in the back and letting others go ahead of them. Alex glared at the three ellyn. "We had better get our stories straight," he said. "Between Derek and me doing that song-and-dance routine about Lapland and all, people are going to wonder what’s really the deal here. For now, let us do the talking, okay?"

Findalaurë glared at him, but then relented, giving a short nod. "We will abide by thy rules, Alex Grant. I gave my atar my word that I would, we all did, but know that I resent thine attitude."

"That’s fine," Alex said, not backing down, "so long as we understand each other. Now, let’s go eat. I’ll point out what the dishes are and you can choose whatever you wish."

"Assuming that there is anything we would care to eat," Findalaurë shot back, but he and the other two ellyn dutifully joined the line.

Alex looked at Derek and grimaced while Derek just rolled his eyes.

61: The Elven Tour Guide at the Blue Petrel

Warning: A drinking challenge is issued and accepted.

****

Dinner was, as Derek later called it, a Fellini comedy rewritten by Tim Burton. Apparently, Glorfindel had given the three ellyn money without actually explaining what it was used for and why so when, after making some rather dubious food selections — Alex simply gawked when Elennen ordered spaghetti with mashed potatoes (which were intended to go with the pork chops) — they started to pass the cashier without stopping to pay. When the cashier, one of the students on work-study, called for them to pay, they just stared at her in disbelief.

"Did your dad give you any money, Lawrence?" Alex asked.

"Money?"

"Coin," Alex explained further. He set his tray down and fished out his wallet and showed them some dollar bills and then unzipped the attached coin purse and showed them nickels, dimes and quarters.

Findalaurë then fished about in his pockets, pulling out a wad of bills. "Thou meanest these?"

Alex nodded. "Give the young lady this one." He pointed to a five. "Alan, Cal, you do the same."

The other two rummaged in their pockets, also pulling out some bills, and after carefully examining the one that Alex had pointed out, looked for a similar bill in their pile. All the while, the cashier sat there looking on in bemusement. Alex caught her eye and shrugged. "They’re from Finland."

"Oh, I guess that explains it," she said, giving them a wry smile. Alex and Derek handed her their plastic meal cards, which she swiped and handed back with a smile. Alex then directed them all to a table that was thankfully empty and they all sat.

Findalaurë gave Alex a suspicious look. "Thou didst not give the female this money."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "First of all, Tiffany is not ‘the female’. She is referred to as either ‘the young lady’ or ‘the cashier’, which is her job title here, if you don’t know her actual name. Second of all, this is a meal ticket." He fished out the plastic card. "See this strip? It gets swiped in the machine and the machine automatically subtracts the price of my meal, for which I already pre-paid. When I use up all the meals allocated on this strip, I have to pay more money. This card is merely a convenient way of carrying money. Loren might issue you your own cards later, but for now you have to pay the old-fashioned way with hard cold cash."

"This paper which thou sayest is money is neither cold nor hard," Calandil protested.

"It’s just an expression, mate," Derek said. "Don’t tell me you don’t have to pay for things back home."

"We are of the nobility," Findalaurë said with a sniff. "We do not sully ourselves with such matters. If we wish for a thing, it is granted unto us. Merchants submit their bill to the Treasury and they are paid forthwith. We have naught to do with it."

"I see," Alex said, giving Derek a raised eyebrow. "Well, here, we do things a bit differently. So, follow our lead, okay? You don’t want people to think you’re stupid or something."

Findalaurë started to comment but was interrupted by several young women coming over to their table. "So, Alex, where have you and Derek been all week and who are these gorgeous hunks with you?" Lucy Barton asked, plopping herself down beside Calandil, giving the nonplused ellon a bright smile.

"Oh, hi, Lucy," Alex said. "This is my cousin Lawrence and his friends Cal and Alan. They’re just visiting. Lawrence, Cal, Alan, this is Lucy, Leanne, Shafali, Michelle, Carla and Patty. They are studying to be Elf Guides like we are."

All the women said hi, giving the ellyn frank looks that actually had the three blushing and murmuring shy hellos of their own.

"So where did you two disappear to?" Lucy asked. "And we noticed all the male teachers except Mr. McKinley were gone as well."

"Oh, well... um... Alex still needed to do the camping trip requirement and I went with him for moral support," Derek answered, "and some of the teachers decided to join us and Gil who was going to go with us and supervise, so we sort of made it a party and then we had to go down to Fairbanks and pick up Lawrence and his friends so we stayed there a couple of days before coming here."

"So is this your first time in Alaska?" Carla asked the three ellyn, giving them the once over and apparently liking what she was seeing.

"Yes, this is our first time," Findalaurë said stiffly.

"Where are you from?" Michelle asked. "Because wherever that is, I want to move there if all the guys look as gorgeous as you three."

Neither of the ellyn answered and Alex stepped in. "They’re from Finland, actually. They’re here as exchange students."

"Oh! I was in Finland last summer," Patty exclaimed with delight. "Are you from Helsinki? I just love that city." Then she started to say a phrase in what everyone had to assume was Finnish, but her expression became puzzled when none of the ellyn responded, looking as bemused as the others.

"Ah... they live way to the north," Alex said, "and very close to the border with Sweden. I think they speak Swedish more than they speak Finnish."

"You know Finland was under Swedish control for quite a while," Derek chimed in. "Everyone spoke Swedish and few spoke Finnish then."

"Oh, okay," Patty said a little dubiously and then to Alex and Derek’s horror started speaking in what they assumed must be Swedish. Patty stopped and gave them a shrug. "I lived in Sweden as an exchange student while in high school. I’m still pretty fluent and managed to pick up Finnish along the way. Your cousin doesn’t seem to be capable of speaking either Finnish or Swedish yet you say that’s where he and his friends are from."

"And since when are you Finnish, Alex Grant?" Shafali asked. "You’re no more Finnish than I’m Japanese."

"Oh, did I say Swedish?" Alex said, ignoring Shafali. "I meant Russian. They’re from that place, Kar-something that was under Russian control."

"Karelia," Patty supplied, then began rattling off some phrase that was definitely Russian, but Alex replied in the same language, heading her off and for several minutes the two of them conversed in Russian while everyone else looked on with varying degrees of bemusement. Finally, Findalaurë took a hand in the conversation.

"I prefer to speak English," he said, stopping the spate of Russian passing between Alex and Patty. "My friends and I wish only to speak your language. We made a vow to speak only English so we can improve our understanding of your language."

"Well, if you insist," Patty said, still eyeing them suspiciously.

"Hey, what do you think about them extending classes for a week?" Derek asked, hoping to steer the subject matter away from imaginary Finns incapable of speaking their own language.

"I can’t believe they’ve done that," Leanne griped. "That means I won’t be able to get home for Thanksgiving as I’d planned."

"Yeah, well, I, for one, welcome the extra study time," Carla said as they all stood up. "I was one of those who spent most of the time during the storm throwing up."

About then, Nathan and some others showed up at the table. "So what are your plans for the evening?" he asked.

Alex shrugged. "Not really sure. I just know I don’t feel like going back to my room to study."

"What about joining us? We’re going to the Blue Petrel to hear a Celtic band that’s playing there tonight," Jack suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Derek said and everyone else agreed.

Then Alex was showing the three Elves where to take their trays and afterwards they headed back to the dorm rooms to grab coats, agreeing to meet downstairs in ten minutes.

****

Alex decided to take his car, telling Jack and Nathan, when they met in the foyer, that they would meet up with them, so he and Derek led the three Elves to the car and they climbed in.

"So we’re going to a bar... er... a tavern, I guess you would call it," Alex explained as he drove out of the campus. "You can get whatever you want to drink, just remember you have to pay for it. You’re not likely to know any of our mixed drinks but you can get wine or beer. If you want wine, I suggest you simply ask for the house red or the house white, whatever you want, and if you want beer, just say you want it on tap. Do you have beer in Valinor?"

"Yes, and ale," Findalaurë answered.

"If you like dark beer, ask for a Guinness on tap and if you prefer a lighter beer, ask for a lager and you should be okay," Derek suggested.

"We will have wine," Findalaurë said.

"Suit yourselves," Alex replied, not really caring.

In a matter of minutes, they were parking the car and making their way towards the bar. Alex opened the door and ushered everyone in. It was early enough that the band was not yet playing, nor was the place particularly full, so they were able to find a booth by the window. Alex noticed the bartender giving them an appraising look and remembered that he’d been on when Daeron had sung, which meant that he, at least, might recognize the Elves as being Elves and not just particularly handsome male humans.

Jack, Nathan, George and the young women trooped in just then and grabbed a couple of tables and put them together so they were seated near enough to Alex and the others to hold a conversation. Then the waitress came over to take their orders. When she came to Findalaurë, she automatically started speaking in Sindarin, which gave the Elves a start.

"English," Alex said hurriedly. "Let’s keep it to English." He gave the waitress a significant look and she nodded, asking her question in English.

"We will have red wine," Findalaurë said, indicating himself and his two gwedyr.

"House red, all right?" the waitress asked and Findalaurë nodded. She finished with the orders and left.

"How does she know Sindarin?" Nathan asked.

"And why did she start speaking it to you guys?" Carla added, narrowing her eyes.

"Maybe she’s taking one of those night classes that the Academy teachers offer to the community," Derek replied, "and she decided to practice it for some reason. Who cares? Does anyone know anything about the band that’s supposed to be playing tonight?"

"I heard them last month," Leanne answered. "They’re pretty good. They do lots of Tannahill Weavers and Clannad stuff but also some original music. They call themselves ‘The Frozen Celts’." She giggled and several others snickered.

The waitress came over then with everyone’s drink and several bowls of popcorn and pretzels and for a few minutes people were busy imbibing. Alex watched as the three ellyn sipped their wine, glancing about with unfeigned interest. Elennen noticed a sign at the bar and pointed.

"What does that mean, the Elven Tour Guide?"

"Hmm?" Alex looked up, not sure what the ellon was asking. He rarely came to the bars, having long gotten out of the habit of binge drinking on the weekends. He used bars as contact points, keeping to a single beer that he would nurse through the night, so that when the bar closed, he was as sober as the bartender and the waitresses while his contact was usually too drunk to see straight. It was very useful in getting information out of a person he would otherwise not be able to get.

"That sign there," Elennen said.

Alex squinted and others looked as well, trying to read the sign. "Man, you have good eyesight if you can read that from here," someone said.

Leanne, who was sitting the closest to the bar got up and went to read the sign, motioning for the bartender and obviously asking him about it. She came back a minute later, giving them a shrug. "It’s a list of some weird-sounding drinks. Númenórean Nightmare, The Balrog Slayer and a whole bunch of others. Bartender says it’s a challenge. You have to get through all fifteen drinks without dying and you get some sort of prize. He says, so far, the furthest people have gotten before passing out is about eight drinks."

"Odd, I don’t remember seeing that sign before," Derek said to Alex. "But I don’t think I’ve been here that often."

"Me neither," Alex said. "What about you guys?" he asked the rest of the group, but several of them shook their heads.

"We usually end up at the Gray Whaler," Nathan said, naming one of the other bars popular with the Academy students, "but we’re all fans of the Frozen Celts and this is the first time they’ve played here."

"It is a drinking challenge?" Calandil asked.

"Yeah," Derek answered. "A lot of bars will have some kind of challenge. There is a bar in Oakland for instance that has beers from all over the world. If you sample all two hundred of them you get an award, a tee-shirt or something."

"Why do they have these challenges?" Findalaurë asked.

"Why not?" Alex asked. "It’s sometimes considered a rite of passage, mostly it’s just for fun, a draw to bring people to the bar. There was a pub in England that I went to where, if they learned you were an American, they would give you a special drink called the American Bomber. Some dude back in the second world war" — he couldn’t help noticing the looks of shock on the faces of the three young Elves — "came up with it and it’s supposedly pretty nasty. But a lot of Americans will go there just to try it. The challenge is to drink it all at one go and then if you can keep from throwing up for one hour, they give you a specially made beer mug."

"So, did you ever try it?" Derek asked.

"Hell, no!" Alex retorted with a laugh. "When I visited that particular pub I adopted a very convincing British accent. Everyone thought I was from East Anglia. No way was I going to be suckered into drinking whatever was in that drink."

Several people chuckled. "Well, who wants to try the challenge?" someone asked. "Hey! It’s Guy Fawkes Day. We should celebrate."

"I want to be somewhat sober when the band is playing, though," Jack said, "so I’ll pass. What about you, Lawrence? Are you up to it, you and your friends?"

"And why should we be so stupid?" Findalaurë asked with a supercilious sniff. "It is obviously a Mortal game."

"Ah, but it’s the Elven Tour Guide," Derek said with a glint in his eyes. "Are you saying Elves would never indulge or that Elves would not find it a challenge?"

"Yeah, but there ain’t no such thing as elves anyway," Carla drawled, "except us fake ones."

"Are you sure of that?" Jack asked, not looking at anyone.

Alex gave the young man an appraising look. Jack was the son of Wiseman’s mayor. It stood to reason that he might know of the existence of the Elves and would recognize Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen for what they truly were.

"I bet if there were real Elves, they wouldn’t be able to make it through the challenge," Derek said. "Aren’t they supposed to be wispy little things with wings, anyway?"

Alex watched in amusement as all three ellyn straightened, looking affronted and confused at the same time, no doubt wondering why Derek was saying what he was saying when he knew the truth. Alex suspected that Derek was setting them up as revenge for what they did to them, to Alex in particular, when they were in the valley of the waterfall. He was tempted to tell Derek to knock it off and leave the three ellyn alone, but decided to see how it played out. Sooner or later, these three youngsters, as Finrod and Glorfindel called them, would have to learn that Mortals played hard and fast and by no rules devised by Elves.

"Thou thinkest we are incapable of succeeding in this challenge?" Findalaurë asked, his eyes narrowing in contempt.

Derek sat back, took a sip of his Guinness and shrugged. "Guess there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?"

For a moment, there was silence around them as everyone watched the interplay between Derek and Findalaurë. One of the women started to protest, but Nathan shushed her, saying not to interfere. The guys, at least, recognized the ‘pistols for two, coffee for one’ aspect of the conversation between the two men.

"And you?" Findalaurë asked. "Will you take this challenge as well?"

"But then, I’m not an Elf... am I?" Derek retorted lazily, taking another sip of his Guinness.

Calandil whispered something in Quenya and Elennen answered in kind while Findalaurë stared at Derek, then glanced at Alex, who shrugged, giving him an unconcerned look. "It’s your call, Lawrence. I’m not your daddy or your mummy. Do whatever you want."

Findalaurë held a hasty conversation with his two gwedyr, all of them speaking in rapid-fire Quenya. Elennen seemed to be against the challenge, based on his expression and the vehement way in which he spoke to his two friends. Calandil looked more unsure, but Findalaurë said something with a sneer and the other two finally nodded. All three looked at Alex and Derek.

"We accept the challenge," Findalaurë said.

Several of the women groaned, shaking their heads, one of them muttering something about the stupidity of males and their stupid pissing contests. The guys all smiled and Jack raised his hand to get the waitress's attention. When she came over he said, "Our three friends here have decided to take the Elven Tour Guide."

She gave them an appraising look then looked back at the bar. "Hey, Stan. Three for the Tour Guide."

Stan raised an eyebrow, then, after pulling out some papers from underneath the bar and grabbing a pen, he walked over to the group. "You have to sign these release forms stating that you are of age and you understand the risks and will not sue the bar. We’ll pay for funeral expenses." He gave them a leer as he handed the three the papers, giving Calandil, who was the closest, the pen.

Derek leaned over and pointed. "Sign your name here," he said to Calandil.

Alex watched as Calandil dutifully and very carefully signed his name, using Roman cursive: Calandil Calaldundilion. Then he handed the pen to Findalaurë and finally Elennen signed his name. Stan took the papers and the pen, read the names, raised an eyebrow, but made no comment other than, "It’ll take a few minutes to put the drinks together. My suggestion is, stop with the wine and drink some water." Then he went back to the bar and rang a bell that was hanging from a rafter.

"Listen up!" he called, silencing all conversations. "Three brave souls have agreed to take the Elven Tour Guide."

There were shouts of glee and lots of applauding as Stan began setting up three trays with several glasses of various sizes and shapes. The waitress, whose name was Sally, came over and gave the three ellyn slips of paper comprised of a list of the different drinks. "You have to drink them in this order," she told them. "The glasses are all numbered, so just go down the list. Take your time, but you have to finish by closing time, which is two o’clock, so you have about six hours."

Alex craned his neck to read the list that was in front of Elennen who was seated across from him. The first drink on the list was the Númenórean Nightmare. Even as Stan was putting the drinks together, several patrons started gathering around to watch. Some people came in from the back carrying musical instruments and started to set up. Someone told them about the challenge and they nodded and after consulting with each other, they settled themselves down and one of them spoke into a microphone.

"We understand that there’s been a challenge for the Elven Tour Guide," the man said. "So, in honor of this, we’ll start out with ‘The Faerie Queen’s Reel.’"

There was a smattering of applause as people recognized the title and then the band started playing. Stan came over bearing one of the trays while Sally and another waitress brought the other trays, placing them on the table which Alex and Derek had cleared off.

"You have your list?" Stan asked, and the three nodded. "Then start whenever you please. Maybe your friends can keep track for you. I don’t think you’ll be able to see straight after the third drink."

"I’ll keep track for Alan," Alex said.

"And I’ll keep track for Lawrence," Derek chimed in. "Jack, you want to keep track for Cal?"

"Yeah, sure," the young man said with some reluctance.

"Okay, we’re all set," Derek said. "First drink is the Númenórean Nightmare."

The three Elves glanced over the different glasses. Alex could see that each had a large number painted on it. They found the one with the number one, the liquid clear, almost like water, and giving each other glances, began to drink.

"All the way or it doesn’t count," someone in the crowd said.

All three Elves grimaced as they drank and Alex almost felt sorry for them, but decided that he didn’t care. His main concern was what Finrod would say when he found out. Or Glorfindel. All three Elves gasped as they swallowed the last of the drink, their eyes crossing a bit as people clapped.

"Okay, number two is the Peredhel Pleasure," Derek said, checking the list.

It took a little longer for them to find the second drink, a rosy looking liquid. They started drinking and now they were much more eager to do so, and Alex had to assume the taste was more to their liking. Findalaurë was the first to finish and without waiting for his friends, began looking for number three, Edhel Elation, as Derek called it, once Elennen finished drinking. No one was paying much attention to the band playing, but the musicians didn’t seem to mind; they continued playing jigs and laments, sometimes in English, other times in one type of Gaelic or another, Alex couldn’t tell them apart, and the crowd around their table grew.

The Balrog Slayer came next and this was a vicious blue liqueur. Stan the bartender had come over to see how everyone was doing. "Loren concocted that one in particular," he said with a nod as Findalaurë gasped and choked the liquor down, his face turning an interesting color. "Has a bit of a bite to it," Stan continued, watching with clinical interest.

"Who came up with these drinks, anyway?" Alex asked the man.

"Oh, the Elves, of course," Stan answered readily enough, then went back to the bar to attend to the needs of his other customers.

"How are you holding up?" Derek asked Calandil.

"Wh-whas nummer is this?" he replied rather drunkenly.

"We’re on to number five, the Orc’s Ovation," Derek answered. "Just ten more after this. Here you go." He helpfully handed him the glass with the number five painted on it. Calandil had to hold on to it with both hands before drinking. The other two were faring a bit better. Findalaurë did not even seem to be affected yet. The Orc’s Ovation was followed by the Sword of Elendil.

"This will put hair on your chest," someone in the crowd said.

"Why do I want hair on my chest?" Elennen asked, sounding very upset, staring at the glass with loathing. "I do not want hair growing on my chest."

"Don’t worry," Alex said soothingly. "It’s just an expression. I promise you won’t have any hair growing on your chest. C’mon. You’re falling behind your friends." Elennen glanced at Findalaurë and Calandil downing their drinks and followed suit.

"I canna feel my dung," Elennen complained.

"Then it’ll be that much easier to get the other drinks down, mate," Derek said unhelpfully. By now some of the women were quietly complaining that they wanted to leave, that they did not want to stay and watch someone die of alcohol poisoning. None of the guys moved, but Jack called Stan over and after a hasty consultation, Stan went back to the bar, picked up the phone and spoke for a bit, then came back to the table.

"Called you a cab," he said to the women. "It’ll be here momentarily."

They gave him a grateful smile, scowled at the men at the table, one of them muttering about Neanderthals in their midst, and got up, pushing their way to the door. No one paid them any mind as the three Elves went on to drink the Mithril Madness and then Isildur’s Bane. Calandil was looking positively ill by then, but he hung on, gripping the edge of the table.

"How many dosh tha’ make?" Findalaurë asked.

"Eight," Alex said. "If you drink the next one, you’ll have surpassed the record. No one’s ever gotten higher than eight."

"I canna shee the nummers," Elennen said, swaying slightly.

Alex looked at the remaining glasses, for each of the empties had been moved out of the way. "Here, this is number nine, The Felagund Hewer."

"Thas m’atto," Findalaurë said, raising his glass, swaying slightly. "Here is to m’atto." Then he downed the drink and everyone applauded.

"Well, even if they don’t make it to the end, they’ve beaten the record," someone said approvingly.

Calandil and Elennen finished their drinks. Elennen, by now, was leaning against the window, looking a bit glassy-eyed, but managed to sit up long enough to take the next drink, The Fëanorean Fit, which for some reason caused Calandil to giggle when he heard the name. Findalaurë gave him a cool stare and punched him in the arm.

"Shtop laughing an’ dwink," he said.

All the while the crowd around them grew and grew quieter as they watched. The Fëanorean Fit was followed by the Vanyarin Virtue, then the Telerin Twister and the Sindarin Sass. At that point, Calandil turned several shades of red and green at the same time and Jack yelled, "Bucket!"

Immediately there was a rush and someone was pushing a large bucket in front of the poor ellon who began to be very, very sick. There were cries of disgust and people moved away. The retching seemed to go on forever and the smell was terrible, but finally it ended and the bucket was removed and several people helped the ellon from his seat and took him to a nearby booth where he was encouraged to lie down. Someone came and placed a wet cloth on his forehead and then they left him there to see how Findalaurë and Elennen were doing.

"Just two more drinks, lads," someone said encouragingly. "You’re almost home."

"Home," Elennen said. "I wanna go home."

"Not until we finish," Findalaurë said, then squinted at the two glasses still in front of him trying to read the numbers.

"This one," Alex said, handing him the appropriate glass. He looked down at the list. "This is Finrod’s Fantasy."

"Nish," Findalaurë said and then drank. He had to stop half way through to catch his breath before downing the rest. Elennen was not too far behind, but he was definitely looking very ill and someone called for two more buckets to be on hand.

"The last one, mates," Derek said. "The Curse of the Noldor."

"We were curshed," Findalaurë said and then, to everyone’s amazement, he broke into a lament, singing in Quenya, the words rolling off his tongue like silver, and as drunk as he was, his voice was heartbreakingly beautiful. Even the musicians stopped their playing to listen. Alex sat spellbound as Calandil joined in the song from where he was lying down, apparently recovered enough to be conscious again. Elennen, however, did not. In fact, so spellbound were the Mortals by the singing that they weren’t paying attention to the ellon, who suddenly snarled, and drunkenly punched Findalaurë in the arm.

"Kinshlayer!" he shouted.

"Not kinshlayer, you shtupid Teler," Findalaurë protested, turning to his gwador with a hurt expression on his face.

But Elennen was too drunk and too incensed and before anyone could stop him, he punched Findalaurë in the face. Findalaurë howled a curse in Quenya as blood spurted from his nose and he returned the punch, hitting low in Elennen’s gut, which was the wrong thing to do, because Elennen proceeded to throw up all over Findalaurë and everyone else in range. There were cries of disgust and alarm. Alex and Derek attempted to scramble out of the way, along with everyone else.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Alex looked up to see Glorfindel standing over them all, his expression one of anger and disgust, and standing right next to him was Finrod, who looked every inch the King of Nargothrond, his expression cold and implacable.

"Uh oh," he heard Derek mutter. "I think we’re in deep trouble."

****

Note: All the names of the drinks in the Elven Tour Guide, except for the Fëanorean Fit, are courtesy of Ellie with much thanks.

62: Explanations and Apologies

"Atto," Findalaurë cried in the absolute silence that followed the entrance of the two Elf-lords as the Mortals stood there staring in shock. "Elennen hit me. He... he called me a... a ... kinshlayer and I w-want Ammë. Ev’ryone is s-s-o mean to me." He then started weeping and sniffing at the same time, trying to get the nosebleed to stop. Elennen was just sitting there swaying and moaning and weeping, wet with vomit. Alex watched the two Elf-lords exchange grimly amused looks.

"Where’s Calandil?" Glorfindel asked, looking around.

"Here, my lord."

Alex craned his neck and saw an arm rising above the tables waving at them.

"Would my lord do me the great honor of killing me now?" the still invisible Calandil said. "I promise to go quietly."

Glorfindel actually smiled. "Sorry. I don’t kill anyone between midnight and eight. You’ll have to wait until after breakfast."

"As my lord wishes," Calandil said, sounding mournful. "I think I’ve gone blind. All I see is white."

Sally, who happened to be closest to where Calandil was lying, went over and made a tsking sound as she leaned over and removed a white wash cloth. "It’s just the cloth over your head, silly."

"Oh, thank you," Calandil said, sounding relieved, and then they heard him gently snoring. Sally looked up and gave them a shrug.

Meanwhile, Finrod was quietly ordering people about, asking for help in getting the other two ellyn cleaned up. The other waitress, Maggie, went in search of a mop and bucket, while Jack and Nathan offered to take the two ellyn to the Men’s room. Stan stated he could scrounge up some extra clothes so they could change. Some people made to leave, but Finrod fixed them with a hard stare and they wilted, quietly taking seats again. Glorfindel was speaking into his phone, then shutting it down.

"The others are on their way," he said. "They’ll be here shortly."

Finrod nodded. "Explain," he said, looking coldly at Alex and Derek, and the very way he said it caused nearly every Mortal there to cringe.

"It... it was a drinking challenge," Alex said.

"The Elven Tour Guide?" Glorfindel asked in disbelief. "You challenged them to the Elven Tour Guide? Are you insane?"

"And what is an Elven Tour Guide?" Finrod asked.

"How far did they get?" Glorfindel asked Stan, ignoring Finrod for the moment.

Stan grinned and pointed to the poster. "The Curse of the Noldor."

"Oh for the love of... and you let them do it?"

"Hey, they signed the release form," Stan protested, waving three sheets of paper.

"So, what exactly happened?" Finrod asked. He went over to the bar and began reading the list, his eyebrows going up and nearly disappearing into his hair. "Finrod’s Fantasy?" he turned to Glorfindel. "And what fantasy would that be?"

"Don’t look at me, gwador," Glorfindel retorted. "That’s Alfa’s concoction. I created the Balrog Slayer. You’ll have to ask her what she had in mind when she created it."

"Fifteen drinks," Finrod said musingly. "What gave you the idea of creating this tour?"

Glorfindel shrugged. "We were sitting here one night and feeling bored, so we each came up with our own drinks. One thing led to another and then the Elven Tour Guide was born."

"And have you been on it?" Finrod asked.

"Are you crazy?" Glorfindel protested. "It was meant as a joke. No one in their right mind would ever drink those concoctions. I swear, the one Amroth created could be used to clean the inside of an engine."

"Stan said that people have gotten as far as number eight before passing out," Derek said.

Glorfindel gave the bartender a disbelieving look. Stan merely shrugged. "Hey, it was all in fun."

"Fun?" Glorfindel echoed, his expression turning cold and Stan took a step or two back, as if he feared an attack.

Just then, the door opened and people gasped as several Elves came in, looking about with interest. Laurendil and Valandur were at the forefront and Alex saw Nielluin, Beleg and Vardamir as well as the Twins, Daeron, Vorondur and Amroth.

"Aranya," Laurendil said by way of greeting.

"Thy grandson lieth there," Finrod said, pointing to where Calandil was still hidden behind the tables. "We are in the midst of cleaning up the other two and trying to ascertain what hath happened."

Laurendil went over to look at Calandil, still snoring, and shook his head, giving Finrod a wry look. "He remindeth me of thee the night we were foolish enough to drink Bregolas’ brew."

"Please do not remind me," Finrod said, rolling his eyes. "I foreswore drinking anything other than wine after that."

The door to the Men’s room opened and Findalaurë and Elennen stumbled out with Nathan and Jack helping them. They were dressed in a mismatch of clothes. Findalaurë was wearing a pair of sweats and a short sleeve black tee-shirt while Elennen was in too tight jeans and a sweatshirt. They both still looked green as they fell into a couple of chairs. Findalaurë’s face was all splotchy and his nose looked swollen but Nathan insisted it wasn’t broken. Elrohir came over and gently probed the ellon’s face, speaking softly to him, then turned to Finrod.

"It is as Nathan says. The nose is unbroken and the swelling will go down by tomorrow."

"Thank you," Finrod said graciously. "So who issued this challenge?"

"I did," Derek said.

"Why?" Finrod demanded.

"Payback," was all Derek said, giving the Elf-lord a hard stare.

Finrod reared back, then gave Glorfindel an enquiring look. Glorfindel muttered a word that sounded like ‘acharn’ and Finrod’s expression went even colder than before.

"So, you decided to avenge yourselves on these children?" he asked.

"Children? Children?" Alex nearly shouted, fear turning to anger. "These children are older than our civilization, Finrod. It’s about time you stopped coddling them and let them stand or fall on their own. You’d better get it straight. I don’t care what our ancestors did when you were lording over them, but in this day and age, we play by our own rules and you can just back off."

"Why are they so mean, Atto?" Findalaurë wailed. "Why do they not like us?"

"Oh, stop whining, Finda," Nielluin said with a sneer. "You sound just like an elfling of five."

"Shut up, Nell," Alex said. "No one asked for your opinion."

Nielluin straightened, giving him a haughty look. "And who are you to tell me what to do, Mortal?"

Before anyone could react, Alex was leaping across two tables and grabbing the elleth into a choke hold, causing her to gasp in pain. "I’m the Mortal who will break your pretty little neck like a twig," he snarled into her ear. "I eat little girls like you for breakfast. You’re in my world now, sweetheart, and I call the shots."

"Alex, mate, let her go," Derek said calmly but with grave authority.

But Alex kept his hold on the elleth and didn’t look up.

"Artemus, enough!" Amroth said sharply. "You’ve made your point. Let her go."

Alex blinked, as if coming awake, and released the elleth, who stumbled out of his grasp and into Finrod’s arms, looking shaken. Alex just stood there. Vorondur came to him and snapped his fingers in front of the young Man’s face.

"Vardamir," Vorondur said quietly and the Elven healer joined his colleague, placing a hand on Alex’s forehead and crooning something soft and sibilant. Alex started, stepping back in surprise."Wh-what...?"

"Easy now," Vorondur said, taking his elbow and steering him to a chair. "You’re all right. Take deep, slow breaths. That’s it."

"I think we need to get everyone home," Elladan said softly to Glorfindel who nodded.

"Yes, I agree. Stan, the bar’s closed. Pay the musicians and get everyone out."

"Hey, it isn’t even one yet," someone protested. "What about final rounds?"

Glorfindel gave the Man a cold stare and started toward him. Finrod grabbed his arm. "Go, my children," the once King of Nargothrond commanded with quiet authority. "Go ere the wrath of the Eldar falleth upon you and it is a terrible thing that no Mortal should witness."

There was absolute silence for five seconds and then everyone was moving. "Jack, Nathan, and anyone else from the Academy, remain here," Glorfindel ordered and several people reluctantly returned to their seats.

"Look, no one put a gun to their heads and made them drink," Derek stated as the bar began to empty out. "They were warned and they accepted the risks."

"Yet, you egged them on," Glorfindel said.

"And so?" Derek shot back. "We’re not their baby sitters. Alex is right. You people think we should be playing by your rules of chivalry and all that, but that’s not how it’s done. I’m sorry. We’re not Galahad and Lancelot, all noble and everything. We’re just two regular guys and I don’t see you castigating anyone else. Jack, Nathan, the others, they all could have convinced these three not to take the challenge, but they didn’t. If you want to look at it as a rite of passage, then your boys passed with flying colors. So, next time, they won’t be so stupid. Lesson learned and all that."

"I still do not understand why my son hath a bloody nose," Finrod said.

It was Stan who answered. "Well, the one lying down got as far as the Sindarin Sass before he threw up, then the other two drank Finrod’s Fantasy and were about to drink the Curse of the Noldor when this one," — he pointed to Findalaurë still looking woebegone —"started singing the Noldolantë. Yeah, I recognized the opening verse from our Quenya class," he said when all the Elves raised their eyebrows. "Anyway, then the kid lying down joined in but the other one started yelling something about this one being a kinslayer, and then he called him a stupid Teler,"— pointing first at Findalaurë and then Elennen — "and then the fists started flying and that’s when you came in." He spoke the last in a rush as if to get it all out at once.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Alex asked, looking more puzzled than angry.

"Got a phone call telling us we needed to be here," Glorfindel said. "I thought it was you." He looked at Stan who shook his head.

"Not me, or anyone else, unless someone called on a cell phone."

"The number was for this bar," Glorfindel said. "I recognized it."

"Well, whoever called never used the phone," Stan insisted.

"It mattereth not," Finrod said. "It only mattereth that we are here now and must needs deal with the situation as it standeth."

Alex got up and went to sit next to Findalaurë, who eyed him warily. "Look, I’m sorry. We don’t hate you or anything. I think you guys were very brave to take the challenge. God knows I would’ve been dead drunk or just plain dead after the fourth drink." Then, before the ellon could respond, Alex turned to Elennen. "And I think you should apologize for calling your own cousin and gwador a kinslayer. That was not only stupid but cruel."

Elennen had the grace to blush, looking down at his feet and muttering something in Quenya. Findalaurë said something back. Alex, deciding to leave them to themselves, then stood and came over to where Finrod was still comforting Nielluin. "And I’m sorry for what I did," he said. "I’m afraid Artemus took over back there."

"Who is Artemus?" Finrod asked. "Methought thou wert named Alex."

Alex sighed. "Long story and this is not the time nor the place for it." He turned to Vorondur. "I’m getting too dangerous. When Nell said what she said, something in me snapped and it was like I was back in Minnesota going after those damn terrorists all over again."

"We’ll talk about it in the morning," Vorondur said. "Come to Edhellond around ten and we’ll have another session. With your permission, I’ll have Vardamir sit in with us. He has skills of mind healing I lack."

"I guess," Alex said, hunching his shoulders in defeat. Derek came over and gave him a hug.

"Hey, we’ll get through this. Tonight was just crazy enough. I don’t really know why I kept egging those three on. Something in me just wanted to see them suffer a bit for what they put us through. Stupid, I know, but I don’t claim to be perfect. Never have, never will."

"As for the rest of you," Glorfindel said, "what happened here remains here. Am I understood? I can’t control what all those other people do or say about what went on here tonight, but if I hear anything about it from others at the Academy, I will hunt you all down and you will not like the consequences." The absolute sincerity of his words struck them and they all nodded vigorously. "Okay. Get out of here." There was a mad scramble as the Academy students all fled into the night. Glorfindel turned to Stan. "Send me the bill for what is owed. We’ll get out of your way so you and your staff can close up."

"Did you ride with someone?" Vorondur asked Alex.

"No, Derek and I drove my car."

"Then, you should go back to the Academy. We’ll take the three amigos with us," Vorondur said, giving him a slight smile.

"Sorry," Alex said, feeling suddenly young and inadequate.

"No real harm done," Vorondur assured him, giving him a squeeze on his shoulder. "And as Derek said, a lesson learned. I think now that both sides have tested one another you can concentrate on being friends. They really do need your friendship, even if you think you don’t need theirs."

Alex nodded and Derek did as well. "I’ll make sure Alex is at Edhellond at ten," Derek assured Vorondur.

Glorfindel and Finrod came over. "I’m sorry if I came down hard on you two," Glorfindel said. "I know I’ve been unfair to you."

"As have I," Finrod said. "You are correct, my son and his friends are not children." He gave them a shy look. "It is hard for a father to let his youngest go. His mother was opposed to my bringing him, but I felt he needed the experience."

"Well, he can’t complain about things being boring around here," Derek countered with a sly grin. "Here at Elf Academy, we don’t do boring."

Both Glorfindel and Finrod chuckled. "Get out of here, the both of you," Glorfindel said. "We’ll see you in the morning."

Alex and Derek nodded and headed out while the Elves gathered the three ellyn, giving their farewells to Stan. Five minutes later, the only people left were Stan and the two waitresses.

"Well, that sure was fun," Maggie said to no one in particular. Sally threw a wet towel at her and Stan snorted, giving them an explicit expletive, and then they were all laughing as they set about putting the bar in order before heading home.

****

Words are Quenya unless otherwise noted:

Ammë: Hypocoristic form of amillë: Mother.

Aranya: My King.

Acharn: (Sindarin) Revenge, vengeance.

Noldolantë: ‘The Fall of the Noldor’, a lament composed by Maglor.

63: The Morning After the Night Before

Ten o’clock the next morning found Alex and Derek at Edhellond. Elrohir answered the door, took one look at Alex and hustled them both in, calling for Elladan and Vorondur. Both ellyn came running, and with them came Glorfindel, Finrod and Amroth.

"What happened?" Glorfindel demanded.

"He woke up screaming," Derek offered. "That was around seven or so. I managed to get him to stop and then he just curled up into a ball, hugging himself, his eyes wide open for almost an hour before I could convince him to get up and take a shower."

"You should have called us or brought him over immediately," Glorfindel said as the Elves led the two Mortals down the hall to the library. Amroth went on to the kitchen.

"Hey! We can’t keep running to you guys every time we stub our toes or something," Derek protested. "I was too busy trying to get him to respond at all to bother calling you. As it was, I had to ask a couple of the guys on our floor to give me a hand. We got Alex shaved and showered and dressed and then took him to the cafeteria and managed to get some toast down him. Jack and the others wanted to come out with us, but I told them I could handle it."

"Bring him over by the fire," Vorondur said. "Dan, where’s that quilt? He’s shaking like a leaf."

Amroth came in with a tray as they were settling Alex in. He was followed by Laurendil and Vardamir. "I have some of Misty’s special tea," Amroth said as he set the tray down. "It should help."

"Do we really need an audience?" Derek demanded angrily. "Alex’s not a zoo specimen, you know."

"Except for Glorfindel and Amroth, all of us are healers of one stripe or another," Vorondur told Derek as he tucked the quilt around an unprotesting Alex. Amroth poured some tea and handed the cup to Vorondur, who then attempted to get Alex to drink, but Alex just shook his head and tried to curl up into a ball.

"No, child. Do not retreat," Vorondur said. "You need to tell us what happened. We’re here to help you."

"Please, Alex," Derek pleaded. "Let us help you."

"No one can help me," Alex muttered in a whisper, curling up as much as he could, tucking his head down so that the quilt hid him almost completely.

The Elves held a quiet discussion among them while Derek sat on the armchair, rubbing Alex’s back, his expression one of distress. He barely noticed when Finrod left while the other Elves continued their discussion. Then the prince returned, carrying a harp. He sat on the hearth and began softly strumming. He did not sing, merely played, and Derek, in spite of himself, felt himself relax and his spirits brighten. He still felt concern for Alex but it was muted and overlaying it was a burgeoning sense of hope. Even as he continued rubbing Alex’s back, he could feel his friend’s body becoming less tense and then he uttered a soft sigh and his eyes closed into sleep. Finrod continued playing for several more minutes before bringing the music to a halt.

He stood and came over to check on Alex, giving Derek a warm smile. "Let us leave him to sleep."

"What if he has the same nightmare?" Derek asked.

"He sleepeth dreamlessly and we will guard him against any darkness." Finrod gave Derek a searching look. "Hast thou broken thy fast?"

"Huh? Uh... no. I had some coffee but I was too busy with Alex to bother with anything else."

"Then, why don’t we feed you?" Glorfindel said solicitously, taking Derek’s elbow and bringing him to his feet. "The others will keep watch over Alex. You might consider lying down yourself. You look exhausted."

"I’m okay, but I could do with breakfast," Derek said.

Glorfindel led him down to the kitchen and made him sit in the breakfast nook while he fiddled with the breakfast, making Derek some scrambled eggs with a side of ham and some toast. He had to rouse the Mortal who had put his head down and was half asleep. Once Derek had eaten, Glorfindel insisted he lie down, and Derek did not protest, but allowed himself to be led back to the library where he stretched out on the sofa, a warm quilt placed over him and in moments, he too was fast asleep.

The Elves continued watching over them both.

****

Alex was the first to waken, blinking blearily as he took in his surroundings, not quite sure where he was or how he’d gotten there. He uncurled himself and found himself facing Vorondur, who gave him a smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Not sure," Alex mumbled. "What happened?"

"That is what we hope to learn," Vorondur said. "Why don’t you go freshen up and I’ll have some food brought. I suspect you’re starving right about now."

"I guess," Alex said as he climbed out of the chair and stretched. He noticed Derek lying on the nearby sofa and gave Vorondur an enquiring look.

"Derek is fine," the Elf assured him. "He’s just sleeping. I promised I would wake him when you woke up. So go throw some water on your face and I’ll rouse him."

Alex nodded and when he returned to the library ten minutes later, he found Derek was now awake and several Elves were in the room. A tray filled with a plate of scrambled eggs and ham and a mug of coffee was on the table and Alex was encouraged to eat.

"Breakfast first, questions later," Vorondur said. "Take your time."

"What time is it?" Alex asked as he picked up a fork.

"About noon," Glorfindel answered.

"Where are Lawrence and his buddies?" Derek asked. "Did they ever wake up?"

There were some chuckles among the Elves. "All three woke to hangovers," Elrohir said with a grin. "They are staying very quiet today, but they’ll be fine by tonight."

"You mean, you didn’t put them into healing sleep or anything?" Alex asked as he held the plate in one hand to eat.

"Lessons learned," Finrod responded.

Both Mortals nodded. Alex finished his plate and put it on the table next to him, then curled up a bit, wrapping the quilt more firmly around him.

"So, do you think you can talk about it now?" Vorondur asked.

"We can leave," Glorfindel said, indicating the others, but Alex shook his head, staring into the fire.

"I was at the tarn," he said quietly, not looking at anyone, "and I was Artemus."

"You were drowning," Vorondur said.

Alex looked up. "No. I was not, but everyone else was."

Everyone went still for a moment. "What do you mean?" Derek asked gently.

Alex gave him a bleak look. "I... I was helping whatever is in the tarn to... to feed and I was laughing as I watched you and Amroth and... and my mom...."

He hid his face in his hands and began sobbing. Derek gave the Elves a helpless look, noticing their grim expressions mixed with concern.

"We’ll leave you," Glorfindel said quietly to Vorondur. "I think Alex will fare better without all of us around."

"If my Lord Finrod would remain," Vorondur said formally.

Finrod nodded, apparently understanding what Vorondur wished of him, for he picked up his harp and began playing again. Glorfindel took Derek’s arm and pulled him away from Alex. "Let them do what they can for Alex," he told the young Man.

Derek allowed himself to be led away. He was somewhat surprised when Glorfindel turned right instead of left towards the kitchen with everyone else following and wondered where they were going. He did not have long to find out. They reached the foyer and headed up the stairs to the second floor and then took one of the hallways branching out, heading to the back of the house. Derek realized they were heading for the sunroom overlooking the back garden.

When they arrived, they found all the ellith there, quietly conversing as they pored over what appeared to be several catalogs. From what he could see of them, they were of wedding dresses and he suspected that the ellith were discussing Serindë’s upcoming wedding. The ellith looked up and Glorfindel said something to them in Quenya and without a word, they all got up and left. Holly stopped in front of Derek and gave him a hug. "It’s going to be all right, child," she said softly, kissing him on the forehead, which caused him to blush. She gave him a knowing smile and followed the other ellith out. Glorfindel motioned for Derek to take a seat and the others followed suit.

For several minutes, no one spoke. Then, Vardamir leaned forward slightly and addressed Derek. "Thou hast had thine own fears with which thou hast wrestled. Wouldst thou speak of them to us? A burden shared is oft times less burdensome."

For a moment, Derek just sat there, his eyes closed. Then he sighed. "This was supposed to be a lark, you know? It was my dad’s idea. Come to Alaska and do something completely off-the-wall, get out of my naval mindset. Spend a few months going to school and then play Elf to the kiddies." He snorted humorlessly. "I could so see myself at a job interview and the interviewer’s looking over my resumé." He straightened his pose and took on a supercilious tone, pretending to read something in his hands. "Graduate of Berkeley. Very good Mr. Lowell and six years in the Navy. Excellent. Er... Elf Guide? Would you like to explain that one, Mr. Lowell?"

The Elves grinned at his performance. Derek collapsed a bit and sighed again. "It was supposed to be fun, but it’s turning into a nightmare."

"For us all," Amroth said.

"How feelest thou toward Alex?" Vardamir asked.

Derek looked at him. "He’s my friend. We’re gwedyr, as you would say. I have his back and he has mine."

"And Artemus?" Elrohir asked. "What are your thoughts about Artemus?"

Now Derek grimaced and shot a dark look at Amroth. "You people messed him up real good, turning him into an assassin and all. I know the spy business is a necessary evil, but what you did to him was criminal."

"And I regret having to do so," Amroth said. "I did all I could to protect him, and perhaps had I stayed, I could have done more, but I did what I could to give him the tools he needed to survive."

"Alex is stronger than you think," Elladan said. "He’s a survivor and he’s learned to adapt. The trick is to get him to accept what he has had to do these past fifteen years and know that Artemus is not the enemy. He needs to befriend that part of him if he is ever to be wholly Alex."

"And we’ll be here to help him, however long it takes," Elrohir added.

Derek started to comment but was interrupted by the entrance of another Elf. They all looked up to see Findalaurë standing at the threshold looking uncertain, swaying slightly. Derek gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, mate. How’re you feeling?"

"Atto?" the ellon asked, looking to Glorfindel and Vardamir.

"He’s in the library with Vorondur and Alex," Glorfindel said.

"Come here and sit down, mate, before you fall down," Derek said, patting the arm of the chair next to him. Findalaurë hesitated for a few seconds and then complied. Derek gave him a clinical look. "You look like death warmed over and you probably feel like hell. Maybe someone should fix you that hair of the dog that bit you."

"No dog bit me," Findalaurë said, then frowned. "Did it?"

Derek smiled. "No, it’s just an expression. What about some coffee, instead? I think I could use a mug or three myself."

"I’ll go make some," Amroth offered and he left.

"So where are your partners in crime?" Derek asked. "Still sleeping off their drunk?"

"I think so," Findalaurë answered, sounding rather subdued. "Why is Atto with Lord Vorondur and the...and Alex?" he asked.

"Alex had a very rough night full of nightmares of killing people whom he loves," Derek answered before the Elves could reply. "Ron and your dad are trying to help him. You can imagine how upset he must feel."

Findalaurë nodded and lapsed into silence. No one spoke for a time and Amroth returned bearing a tray with coffee and mugs, passing them around so everyone had one. For several minutes, they all concentrated on drinking and Findalaurë appeared less fragile as he sipped the brew. They sat in companionable silence for some time and then Findalaurë glanced at Derek.

"I apologize," he said simply.

"So do I," Derek said. Then he gave the ellon a lopsided grin. "Guess we both learned a couple of lessons, didn’t we?"

Findalaurë nodded. "And Alex? He will be well?"

Now it was Elrohir who answered. "That is our hope. He is very conflicted and there is a darkness within him that we are hoping to drive out."

"He needeth thy help, Finda," Vardamir said.

"My help?" Findalaurë exclaimed. "Why doth he need my help? He despiseth me."

"Nah, he doesn’t despise you, mate," Derek drawled. "Hates your guts. Thinks you’re the bane of his existence. Wishes he could safely strangle you and stuff your body into a deep, dark crevasse where it will never be found. But he doesn’t despise you."

Findalaurë gaped at Derek for several long seconds and then burst out laughing, clutching his head and moaning at the same time while the other Elves gave him sympathetic grins. When he calmed down he gave Derek a slight smile. "Well as long as he despiseth me not, then I suppose it is fine."

"That’s the spirit," Derek retorted jovially. "But to be serious, Vardamir is right. Alex needs as many friends as he can get. He needs to know that we don’t despise him for what he is or for what he has done and he’s been forced to do terrible things."

Before anyone could comment, Finrod appeared. His gaze swept the room and when it fell on his son, his expression softened. "Alex is asking for Derek," he said.

Derek nodded, putting his mug down, then stood, looking at Findalaurë. "Come with me."

"But he hath asked for thee," the ellon protested.

Derek shrugged. "Sooner or later, you two need to make amends. Best to get it over with now."

Findalaurë glanced at Finrod, who nodded in approval and the ellon got up and followed Derek out. Finrod joined them. "How’s he doing?" Derek asked him.

"He is calmer," Finrod replied.

They headed down the stairs and into the library. Derek went directly to where Alex was still seated in the chair, the quilt wrapped around him while he was sipping something from a mug. He looked up at Derek’s approach and smiled. "Sorry to put you through all that," he said by way of greeting.

Derek waved a hand in dismissal. "But you owe me, big time, mate."

Alex just nodded, then glanced to where Findalaurë was standing. "You look worse than I feel," he said. "Hasn’t anyone given you something for the hangover?"

"We were drinking coffee," Derek supplied.

Alex gave a snort of disgust and climbed out of the chair. "That won’t do. C’mon. Let’s raid the kitchen. You guys have tabasco sauce?"

Before they knew it, Alex had Findalaurë by the arm, dragging him toward the kitchen, rattling off a list of ingredients to Vorondur while Derek and Finrod followed. Once in the kitchen, Alex became all business and in short order he was concocting a drink in the blender that he swore would cure everything save the common cold. "If you can keep this down, you can survive anything," he said to Findalaurë as he handed him a tall glass.

Findalaurë eyed it dubiously, but Alex insisted and finally he took it. "Just hold your nose and drink, mate," Derek said with a grin.

Findalaurë did just that, swallowing and grimacing. "All the way," Alex said. The ellon was gasping by the time he finished, but his color began to improve almost immediately and his eyes cleared. He gave Alex a wondering look.

"Couldst thou make some for my gwedyr?" he asked.

"No problem," Alex said, going over to the blender. "Why don’t you and Derek go wake them from the dead and bring them down here and we’ll dose them."

"C’mon, Larry. Let’s rouse those sluggards," Derek said and Findalaurë grinned.

"Thou needs must stand two feet away from Calandil when thou wishest to wake him, for he tendeth to attack anyone who cometh near."

"Yeah, I knew a few guys in the Navy like that," Derek said as the two left the kitchen together.

Finrod gave Alex a considering look as the Mortal set about putting ingredients into the blender. "Thank you," he said.

Alex gave the Elf prince a shrug. "No problem. Now, where did I put the tabasco sauce?"

****

Glorfindel and the Twins, along with Daeron and the other Wiseman Elves as well as several of the Valinórean Elves wandered into the kitchen to an interesting sight. Calandil and Elennen were seated at the breakfast nook, both of them looking as if they’d been dead for three days, as Elrohir not so delicately put it to his brother, who laughed out loud. Standing over them was Alex holding two tall glasses of something that looked nasty, and, Glorfindel suspected, tasted even worse.

"C’mon, Cal, be a man and make your mama proud," Derek was saying as the Elves entered. Glorfindel noticed both Finrod and Vorondur standing to one side looking on, exchanging smiles. Findalaurë was with them, his father’s arm around his shoulders in a casual embrace.

"If Finda can do it, so can you," Alex said, holding out the two glasses. "You don’t want Nell to think you guys are wimps, do you?"

Elennen grimaced. "Nielluin is a pain in the...."

"Yeah, well, some women are like that," Derek said philosophically. "So, let’s show her what you’re made of."

The two ellyn still looked dubious. Elennen glanced over to where Findalaurë was standing. "Thou swearest this is not revenge for my stupidity of last night?"

Findalaurë shook his head. "I swear, Brother, it is not. My father and Lord Vorondur can testify that I have drunk this brew as well and thou canst see its effect on me. So, hold your nose."

"And think of England," Derek added and Alex started laughing while the Wiseman Elves grinned.

Calandil gave them a jaundiced look. "Why would I think of England? I do not even know where it is."

That made the two Mortals and the Wiseman Elves laugh even more. "Stop stalling and drink," Alex commanded and the two Elves sighed almost as one, took the proffered glasses, gave each other dubious looks and almost at the same time, pinched their noses and drank.

"All the way, mates," Derek said, "or it won’t work."

Both of them were gasping by the time they finished drinking and Elennen sputtered something in Quenya that had all the Elves laughing. "Dost thine ammë know thou speakest so, my son?" Valandur asked, looking more amused than upset.

"Sorry," the elllon said apologetically.

"There now. Feel better?" Alex asked solicitously as he took the empty glasses and set them in the sink, turning on the tap to rinse them out before putting them into the dishwasher.

Both ellyn had wondering looks as they realized the truth of Alex’s words. "Yea, I do," Calandil said and Elennen nodded.

"Good," Glorfindel said. "I’m glad to see we’re all being friends again. Alex, how are you faring?"

Alex leaned against the sink and shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I’m not sure why I had that dream. It was so real."

"The Artemus part of you was very evident last night when you assaulted Nielluin," Vorondur said.

Alex grimaced. "I barely remember. I hope she wasn’t hurt too badly."

"Her neck was bruised, but it has healed since," Vorondur answered.

"Let’s hope she’s the forgiving type, or you’re going to be in a lot of trouble," Derek said.

"My niece hath her mother’s temper and doth not easily forget nor forgive," Finrod said, "but I have had words with her and, oddly enough, she feareth me as she doth not even her own father."

"It’s that Light of Mandos look, as Atar Arafinwë used to call it, that you have sometimes when you are angry," Glorfindel said with a smile. "Comes in handy for cowing people."

Finrod snorted and shook his head. "At any rate, I have given her some things to think upon. Now, methinks that you three should return to the Academy with Alex and Derek."

"Must we?" Findalaurë asked.

"It is the only way, my son, for thee to learn the ways of the Mortals with whom we must live," Finrod said gently.

Findalaurë sighed and started to comment, but then Derek’s phone rang. He answered it, then mouthed ‘Jack’ at Alex who nodded. "Yeah, everything’s cool," he said into the phone. "Alex is right here... No, we don’t have any plans...." he gave Alex an enquiring look and Alex shook his head. "Hang on." He turned to Alex. "Giants are playing the Patriots. Bunch of the guys are at the Gray Whaler watching the game. You interested?"

"Hey, my home team," Alex said with a grin. "Sure. What about these three?" He nodded at Findalaurë and the other two ellyn.

"Might as well introduce them to NFL football," Derek said, "but we stick to soda, all of us, okay?"

"No worries there," Alex said. He turned to Finrod. "Okay if they go with us to watch the game?"

Finrod did not answer immediately, but looked at Glorfindel, who nodded. "It’s a Sunday ritual, watching football. We can watch it ourselves, if you’re interested."

"No alcohol," Finrod said, giving the three ellyn a stern look. All three shook their heads. "Then you may go."

"Great," Derek said, then spoke into the phone. "Save us seats. We’ll be there shortly." He turned off the phone, stuffing it back into his pocket and stood. "Well, we’re missing the first half, so let’s go."

Five minutes later, the two Mortals and the three Elves were on their way. Glorfindel and Finrod stood on the porch and watched them drive off. Finrod’s expression was somewhat dubious. Glorfindel gave him a hug. "Hey, it’s going to work out. Let’s go watch the game. I think Elladan is making popcorn for us."

Finrod nodded and they went back inside.

64: After the Game

Alex, Derek and the others poured out of the Gray Whaler several hours later into the early evening with Alex grousing.

"I can’t believe the Patriots lost by four points," he exclaimed in disgust. "They should’ve made that last touchdown."

Derek, Jack and their other friends just grinned. "Just the way it goes, my friend," Jack said without any sympathy.

Findalaurë, along with Calandil and Elennen, came out with them, their expressions somewhat troubled. "This game appeareth rather... violent," Findalaurë ventured somewhat hesitantly.

Derek snorted in amusement. "You think that was violent, wait until you watch ice hockey."

"Rugby, Australian Rules," Alex added. "Now that’s violent."

"What’s so special about Australian Rules?" George Calhoun asked.

Alex gave him an amused look. "That’s just it. Australian Rules means there aren’t any or, at least, the rules are way different from what you see in England or elsewhere."

"Well, what do you expect from Aussies?" someone retorted. "They’re an odd bunch, anyway."

"Amen," several of them said fervently.

The three ellyn just looked more bemused than ever. Alex just smiled. "Don’t worry about it. Did you enjoy the game?"

"It was difficult to understand the rules," Calandil offered, "but I could see that everyone was having a good time even if their team did not win."

"And that’s all that matters," Derek said, clapping his hand familiarly on Calandil’s shoulder, much to the Elf’s surprise. "Now, do we go back to the Academy for dinner, or do we hang out here?"

Several of the Mortals indicated they were ready to go back to the college for dinner, but Alex suggested that he, Derek and the three ellyn go to the café. "It’s Sunday," he said. "I’m not ready to go back to the Academy just yet."

Derek agreed and soon they were parting from the others, wishing them a good evening as they headed across town on foot, for the café was only a couple of blocks from the tavern. The night was cold and the two Mortals huddled in their coats while the three ellyn strolled along seemingly unconcerned by the weather, gazing about with interest at the different shops, all closed up for the night. Soon they reached the town center and saw the café lights shining brightly across the square and quickly made their way inside.

Being a Sunday evening, the café was not all that crowded and they were able to find a large booth. A waitress came over and set glasses of water on the table, announcing that the night’s blue plate special was goulash with garlic bread and a side salad. Both Derek and Alex decided that’s what they would have and, not knowing what else to order, the three ellyn ordered the same thing, deciding to let the two Mortals choose the type of dressing for the salad, not entirely sure what was meant by that. They all ordered coffee for their drinks and then sat for awhile in silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

When the waitress came back several minutes later with their dinner, Alex watched in amusement as the three ellyn stared at the bowls filled with macaroni, ground beef, diced tomatoes and green peppers that had been baked with a grated cheese crust. They watched carefully as Alex and Derek poured their Italian dressing from small cups that had come with the salads and imitated them. All also had a couple of slices of garlic bread sopping with melted butter. Alex and Derek dug right in while the three ellyn took cautious bites of the goulash but then they were eating just as heartily as the Mortals and for a time they were too busy enjoying their dinners to bother talking or paying any attention to their surroundings.

Alex, who was seated by the window, glanced out at one point, noticing that there were a few flakes floating in the night air and resisted a sigh. He was about to comment on the snow when a voice froze him.

"So there you are, Mr. Grant."

Alex refused to look up as Mark Farrell stopped by their booth, a wry grin on his face. "I understand you had a little accident. Hope you’re not too badly banged up," he said with false sincerity. Alex refused to answer. "What? Nothing to say, Mr. Grant? How unlike you." There was a definite sneer in his voice.

Derek wiped his mouth on his napkin and then stood up, forcing Farrell to retreat a bit as the former sailor faced him. "Oh, I know you," he said with feigned pleasure. "You’re the guy who was scribbling all those notes on our classes, aren’t you? I hope you gave us a good grade, because a lot of people will be disappointed if you didn’t."

Farrell snarled. "I wouldn’t know. I gave my recommendations and others will make the final decision."

"Well, that’s all well and good," Derek said, "but in the meantime, my dinner is getting cold, thanks to you. So why don’t you stop bothering us and be on your way."

"Who are your three friends?" Farrell demanded, nodding at the three Elves. "I’ve not seen them before. Odd looking. Like that bunch at the mansion."

"Well, now, aren’t we just full of curiosity?" Derek answered drolly. "And why do you even care? Now, why don’t you get on your way...."

"So is this what you’ve descended to?" Farrell shot at Alex, ignoring Derek. "Hiding behind your friends, letting them fight your battles for you? How far we have fallen," he sneered.

"Mister, the only person who’s apt to fall is you if you don’t get on your way," Derek said more hotly, clenching his hands in a threatening manner.

Before Farrell could respond, two patrons rose from their table, both of them brawny, looking very much like loggers. One of them spoke. "This guy giving you trouble, kid?"

"What about it, Mr. Farrell?" Derek said, silently pleased to see the man start at the sound of his name. "Are you giving us trouble? Because if you are, we’re willing to oblige."

"You?" Farrell sneered. "You’re nothing but an overgrown boy scout."

"Now there’s where looks can be deceiving," Derek retorted quietly.

"And we’re anything but boy scouts," said the man who had spoken before, he and his friend giving them grins that did not bode well for Farrell if he thought to make a wrong move. Recognizing he was outnumbered, Farrell merely scowled and turned, pushing his way past the two loggers, slamming the door behind him as he exited the café. The two men gave Derek considering looks which Derek returned with a nod.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem," the first man said with a wave of his hand. "We know his kind all too well and didn’t like the way he was razzing on your friend. Better get back to your dinner before it goes cold." The two loggers resumed their own seats while Derek sat back down, picking up a piece of garlic bread to chew on. He glanced at Alex who sat as still as a statue, his face white, his hands clenched on the edge of the table, his eyes staring at nothing in particular.

"Hey," Derek said, putting his arm around Alex’s shoulders and giving him a hug. "It’s all right. He’s gone. C’mon. Finish up and then we’ll have dessert."

"I want to leave now," Alex whispered.

"And give that creep the satisfaction?" Derek shot back. "No way, José. You’re going to sit here and finish your dinner and we’ll have dessert and then we’ll leave. Don’t you dare let that son of an orc win, gwador. He’s not worth spit."

Alex turned to him, his expression troubled. "He’s dangerous," he said. "More dangerous than you can imagine. I wonder how he knew I was here."

"He didn’t."

The two Mortals and the three Elves all looked up to see someone approaching. He was tall, with long black hair that seemed to have a blue sheen to it. He was dressed in black jeans, with a black turtleneck shirt under a red and black plaid flannel shirt. He wore a black duster and a black wide-brimmed hat. Alex thought he looked like someone out of a western movie. He recognized ‘Nate’ and just stared at him in disbelief. Derek’s expression was more curious; the three Elves were trying to rise from their seats all at the same time, apparently out of respect, somehow recognizing who this person really was, but Nate waved them back down as he pulled a chair from a nearby table and turned it around so he was straddling it, his arms on the back, his chin resting on his arms, giving them all considering looks.

"I’m glad to see you are all friends now," he said. Then he looked at Derek, who was still staring at him in puzzlement. "Hello, Derek. I’m Nate. I’m a friend of Alex, as well as Glorfindel and Finrod." Alex noticed the shocked looks on the faces of the three Elves as ‘Nate’ held out his hand for Derek to shake.

"Oh... um... hi. Please to meet you," Derek said automatically. Then he turned to Alex, raising an eyebrow and mouthing, ‘Nate?’. Alex just shrugged, not really sure how to respond. Instead, he gave Nate a hard look.

"What do you mean, he didn’t know I was here?" he demanded.

"Just that," Nate responded with an elegant shrug. "He just happened to be walking by and saw you at the window."

"He’s been missing in action for several days since checking out of the Goldmine Inn," Alex said, "and you’re saying he just happened to be walking by. Where’s he been all this time, and more importantly, what’s he been up to?"

"Well, those are both very good questions, neither of which I will answer," Nate said.

"Will not, or can not," Alex shot back, ignoring the pained looks on the faces of the three ellyn who apparently felt he should be more respectful towards this particular person.

"Will not," Nate said firmly and there was something in his tone and in the look in his eyes that warned Alex not to push too far and the Mortal backed off a bit.

"Fair enough," he said. "Farrell’s my concern anyway. So, what brings you here?"

Nate raised an eyebrow and all three ellyn visibly cringed as if they were expecting blows. Derek’s only response was to drink some of his coffee, apparently enjoying the show. Nate ignored Alex, turning his attention to the three Elves.

"Congratulations, by the way," he said.

"F-for what, m-my lord?" Findalaurë whispered.

"For not dying yesterday after pulling that stupid stunt," Nate retorted good-naturedly. The three ellyn cringed even further. "If you had, I would’ve had all three high kings of the Eldar banging on my door demanding your immediate release and every elleth over five hundred would’ve been doing her level best to fade just so she could be with you in Mandos." He gave the three a significant look and they all blushed, murmuring denials, much to Alex’s and Derek’s amusement. "Glorfindel was right when he said that the drink Amroth concocted is fit only for cleaning out engines," Nate continued conversationally. "That stuff is pure poison."

"Which drink was that?" Derek asked.

Nate smiled. "Well now, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?" He stood up, returning the chair to its proper place. "I highly recommend the chocolate cream pie," he said and then he just faded away, apparently without anyone else in the café taking any notice of his strange exit.

For a long moment, the two Mortals and the three Elves just sat there staring at the spot where Nate had been, only coming out of their state when their waitress approached to clear the table and asking if they wished for any dessert.

"Ah, some... um... chocolate cream pie, all around?" Derek asked hesitantly.

The waitress just nodded and left with their dirty dishes, promising to bring more coffee for them as well. None of them spoke or even looked at one another. Alex was thinking about Farrell and what the man might be up to. He didn’t quite believe Nate when he said Farrell had just chanced upon him. Where had he been all this time and what had he been doing? He was still mulling it over when the waitress returned with their desserts and coffee and the check. The pie was very good and Alex felt himself relaxing as he took a couple of sips of his coffee.

A little while later, after paying the bill, the five of them left and headed back toward Alex’s car. It was snowing more and Alex hoped the roads weren’t too icy. They were just reaching the street where he’d left his car and were about to cross it, when a car came around the corner, its headlights nearly blinding them. They all froze and Alex stared in disbelief as he recognized Glorfindel’s van pulling up beside them. Finrod was in the passenger seat and had rolled down the window. Glorfindel leaned toward them to speak to them.

"Hop in. We’ll give you a lift."

"My car’s just here," Alex protested.

"Leave it," Glorfindel retorted. "I’ll have Amroth give it a once over in the morning."

"What do you....?" Alex paused, thinking out the implications. He gave the two Elf-lords a glare. "How did you know to come here?"

"Let’s just say a little birdie told us," Glorfindel said. "Now, hop in."

Derek pulled open the side door and they all climbed in, Alex being the last. When they were all settled, Glorfindel set off again. The short drive to the college was done in silence and even after Glorfindel pulled up in front of the Academy, no one said anything. Derek and Alex climbed out with the three ellyn right behind them whispering goodnights to Glorfindel and Finrod, waving as Glorfindel drove off. They went inside the building, making their way to the third floor. Alex stopped at his room and opened it but Derek continued on with the three ellyn to their rooms, making sure they were all set for the night.

"We’ll see you in the morning," he said. "Have a good night."

The three ellyn echoed his sentiment and then he returned to his room to find Alex sitting on the edge of his bed staring at nothing in particular.

"Hey, you going to be okay?" he asked with concern.

Alex sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "I guess. This has not been a good day for me."

"I know," Derek said solicitously. "Look, it’s early yet. I’ve got a chess set stashed away here somewhere. Why don’t we play a game and take our minds off things for a bit?"

Alex nodded and Derek went to his closet and fished out a small case that turned out to contain a portable chess set. In minutes the board was set and the two spent the rest of the evening until it was time for bed playing. Neither of them mentioned Farrell or Nate the whole time.

65: The Three Amigos Go to College

In the morning, as Alex and Derek, joined by Findalaurë and his gwedyr, were enjoying their breakfast, Amroth came into the cafeteria and made his way to where they were all seated, giving them a smile in greeting. He leaned over and spoke softly to Alex.

"I went out as soon as it was light," he said. "The car hasn’t been tampered with."

"Then why did Loren insist he give us a lift?" Alex ask, feeling perplexed. "If the car was safe...."

"I didn’t say it was safe, I said it hadn’t been tampered with," Amroth retorted, then fished something out of his pocket, handing it to Alex who stared at it in disbelief. It was round and appeared to be somewhat larger than the typical button battery. He glanced up at Amroth.

"A tracer?"

Amroth nodded.

"How long has it been there?"

Amroth shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"But why? I haven’t gone anywhere."

"What about Wild Lake?" Derek offered. "Could Farrell have had you traced there? What if he saw everything that went on there?"

"Impossible," Amroth said firmly. "If Farrell or any other Mortal had been in the vicinity, Loren and the others would have sensed them, Loren especially, as he’s been trained to it."

"Would they know to sense intruders, though?" Derek insisted.

"When I showed this to Loren, I asked him the same question. He assured me that from the moment you arrived at Wild Lake he was extra vigilant."

"So we really don’t know if this was on my car then or not," Alex said, looking troubled. "It makes no sense. I don’t understand what Farrell hopes to gain by putting a tracer on my car."

"He’s merely keeping tabs on you," Derek said. "And I don’t believe it was just a coincidence that he showed up at the café last night when we were there, no matter what Nate says."

Amroth raised an eyebrow. "Nate? Nate was there?"

Both Mortals and the three ellyn all nodded. Amroth gave them a considering look. "Did he say anything?"

"You mean important?" Alex shot back. "Not really. He congratulated these three for not dying. By the way, which of those drinks was your creation? Loren said it was fit only for cleaning out engines and Nate agreed but would not say which one it was."

Amroth grinned. "The Mithril Madness and no, I won’t tell you what I put into it. You better finish up with your breakfast as classes will be starting soon. Give me your keys and I’ll bring the car back over."

Alex reached into a pocket and pulled out a set of keys, handing them to Amroth along with the tracer. "Destroy that," he said, "or better, put it somewhere safe and let Farrell figure out what’s up with it."

Amroth just nodded, wished them a good morning and left. Alex sighed, then picked up his glass of juice and drained it. "Well, we better be going," was all he said and he stood up to return his tray to the kitchen and the others followed suit.

As they left the cafeteria and headed for their rooms, Alex spoke to the three Elves. "Now remember, you’re clueless about everything that’s going on here. When we are in our Sindarin class you have to pretend you can’t understand a word of it and try not to laugh."

"And why would we laugh?" Calandil asked.

"Because you’re going to hear a lot of mistakes and strange accents and all," Alex replied. "I’ve seen Gil trying hard not to laugh at some of our gaffes as we’re learning the language."

"We will keep it in mind," Findalaurë said and he and his gwedyr waited outside Alex and Derek’s room while the two Mortals grabbed their book bags. Then they were headed for the classrooms along with everyone else.

Entering the room, they saw Gil there. He gave them all a smile as they approached. "Good morning. How are you all this morning? Alex?"

"I’m okay," Alex said with a shrug.

Gil nodded. "And you three?" he enquired of the ellyn. "How are you getting along with everyone else?"

"It is not as we expected," Findalaurë said, acting as their spokesman as usual, "but we are adapting. Alex hath... I mean, has reminded us to act stupid."

Gil raised an eyebrow and shot a look at Alex who shook his head. "That’s not what I said. I said they have to be clueless about things, pretend they don’t understand Sindarin and not to laugh at all our mistakes."

"Ah, well, that makes sense," Gil said. "Why don’t you take your seats and we’ll get started. Lawrence, you and your gwedyr can sit in the back." He pointed to where there were some empty desks in the back and the three ellyn complied while Alex and Derek took their usual seats. Gil greeted everyone in Sindarin and the class dutifully responded in kind, then he switched to English. "We have three visitors," he said, and everyone turned to look at the three ellyn who started blushing at the attention. "This is Lawrence, Cal and Alan. They are here to see what Elf Academy is all about with the intention of joining us next term. So, how do we greet people in Sindarin?"

Everyone dutifully uttered a ‘Mae govannen’ and the three ellyn nodded in greeting.

"So, we have today and Friday and then we will be finished with this course," Gil continued. "You’ve all come a long way since the beginning of the term and while you may think you haven’t learned much, you actually have learned a great deal of this language, certainly enough so that when you are with your tour groups, you can greet them in Sindarin and throw a few apt phrases into your speech. You might even teach the children simple phrases and numbers, make a game out of it when you are traveling from one event to another. So, why don’t we use the time we have left in recapping some of the major points of the course?"

He paused and picked up several index cards from his desk. "I have written out plausible scenarios which you may encounter while acting as tour guides. I’m going to split you up into three teams, and each team will be given a scenario with instructions on what grammar points you need to cover. So, for instance, you may be asked to use the past tense and mention at least three different colors. You will have a few minutes to decide who will act as the guide and who will act as tourists and then you will role play the scenario given to you, using Sindarin the entire time, or as much as you can manage. If you are unsure of how to say something, you need only ask. Lawrence, Cal and Alan, if you wish, you can each join a team and act as a tourist."

The three ellyn looked at one another and then they were nodding. Gil then proceeded to have everyone count off by threes and then the groups were separating into different parts of the classroom. Findalaurë joined Alex’s group while Calandil joined Derek’s, leaving Elennen to join the third group, looking a little unsure of himself, not recognizing anyone there. His teammates all smiled at him and softly introduced themselves. Gil went around, handing each group an index card, assuring them that everyone would have a chance either in this class or on Friday to act as a tour guide.

Alex’s group was given a scenario in which the tour guide had to use the future tense in describing what activities the group would be doing that day, each activity written out with its Sindarin equivalent. Alex volunteered to go first, not so much because he was confident that he would be able to speak fluently, as he just wanted to get it out of the way and then spend the rest of the time acting as a tourist. No one countered him, and so, for the next couple of minutes, they all offered him suggestions on what to say and how to say it. Once or twice, Alex noticed Findalaurë about to speak, as if either to offer his own suggestions, or perhaps to correct what the others were saying, and then stopping himself in time, seemingly frustrated, or perhaps amused, when people began consulting their textbooks for the correct grammar.

Then Gil called time and everyone took their seats except for the first group, which included Derek and Calandil. It turned out that Derek’s group had to use the active participle and the gerund-in-dative along with the names of the animals that would be commonly seen by the tourists. One of the women in the group was acting as the tour guide.

"Mae govannen, mellyn nîn...."

There were many false starts and much stumbling around for words and the occasional mix up of grammar as each of the groups took their turns. Alex fared a bit better than the others, but even he used a word that sounded very similar to the word he really wanted to use but with an entirely different meaning so that, when the others finally figured it out, it set them all laughing. It took them a few minutes to calm down while Alex just stood there blushing and looking sheepish. Gil, smiling the whole while, gently corrected him and then he continued with his scene. The three ellyn, he could tell, had been hard put to act clueless when they knew perfectly well what he had actually said and he had to give them full credit for that.

And so the class continued with about half of the students having the opportunity to act as tour guides. As the class came to an end Gil told them to remember which team they were on and they would continue with the exercise on Friday. He assured those who’d done the scenarios in this class that they had all done a very good job and he was proud of their efforts.

Alex and Derek purposely held back, letting everyone else file out of the classroom, so that they and the three ellyn were the last to leave. Gil had gathered the three together and was speaking to them in softly spoken Sindarin while Alex and Derek looked on.

"That was funny, what you said," Derek said softly to Alex as they were waiting for Gil to finish speaking.

"Oh please," Alex groaned. "It was not my intent. Damn language. With all those mutations, half the words sound like other words and it’s hard to keep them all straight."

"Well, it was still funny," Derek said with a shrug. "I hope I do half as well as you when it’s my turn."

"You’ll do fine. Unlike some of these students, you’ve the experience of learning a couple of other languages including one that has no correspondence to English. That, I would think, would make it easier."

"In some ways, but you know way more languages than I. Have you found it easier?"

Alex shrugged. "Maybe. My problem was that I was so convinced that the language was made up I couldn’t be bothered with it. By the time I realized that it wasn’t, I had to do a lot of catching up."

Derek nodded and was about to comment but Gil looked over at them and gestured for them to join the others. "You should not linger, your next class will be starting soon. You did very well, Alex, in spite of your... um... gaffe. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. We all make such mistakes when learning a new language."

"Even you?" Derek asked in surprise.

Gil laughed. "Oh yes. Remind me to tell you the time I almost started a war between two clans somewhere in Africa because of a slip of the tongue. We almost didn’t make it out of there alive and the others spent the next hundred years never letting me forget it."

"You guys ought to write a book. It would make for interesting reading," Derek commented. Alex nodded in agreement. "Well, let’s grab some tea or coffee before we head over to our next class," he said and they bade Gil goodbye and headed for the lounge where, by now, the line was nonexistent so they were able to get their beverages of choice immediately and then found a place to sit together.

"So, what did you think of Gil’s class?" Alex asked the three ellyn.

"It was most amusing," Findalaurë answered, always the spokesman for the other two. "I think my lip is swollen from having to bite it so many times to stop from laughing."

"But it was very interesting," Elennen said hurriedly when both Alex and Derek scowled at Findalaurë’s words. "Lord Gilvegil is a very good teacher and he has taught you all well. That you have all progressed as far as you have in this short time in mastering the language speaketh... I mean, speaks well of his teaching skills."

Calandil nodded, but did not otherwise comment. Findalaurë gave Elennen a cool stare but then shrugged and concentrated on his tea. An awkward silence ensued for several minutes and then people started to move, returning empty mugs to the counter and grabbing their book bags. Alex and Derek did the same and the three ellyn followed them out of the building and across the campus to where the Nature Studies class was held. The three Elves kept an interested eye on everything around them, observing the other Mortals as they went about their own business. Then they were inside the classroom finding seats and Vorondur greeted them all.

"Today, we’ll review all that we’ve been learning about the animals and plants that exist in this area of Alaska, then on Wednesday, we’ll do a combined exam with your Wilderness Survival class. It will be mostly multiple choice, so don’t worry too much about it. This is just to help you focus on the relevant parts of these two courses before you go out for real with your tour groups. So, let’s put away our books and we’ll see what we can identify without looking. Everyone take out a sheet of paper and we’ll begin."

As the students complied with his orders, Vorondur dimmed the lights and then, using his laptop, displayed an animal on the screen behind him. "Name the animal and draw as best you can what its paw print would look like." He gave them a minute before moving on to the next photo, which showed a close-up of a group of needles from a particular fir tree. "Name the tree based on what you see of its needles."

All the while, as Alex scribbled down his answers, he noticed the three ellyn, who had taken some empty seats just below him, had their heads together, obviously speaking to one another so softly that none of the Mortals around them were distracted. He wondered what they were saying, but then put them out of his mind as Vorondur went on to the next slide and he went back to concentrating on what was being shown, trying to remember what type of food this particular animal ate.

At some point the slide show ended and then Vorondur went back to the beginning and the rest of the class time was spent in going over the answers with the air filled with groans and cheers depending on who got an answer correct or not. Alex was pleased that he only missed two; Derek missed three, but that was still very good. As the class came to an end, Vorondur reminded them to review all their notes for the Wilderness Survival class and then dismissed them. Alex and Derek made their way down to where the three ellyn were seated while everyone else filed out. Alex noticed that all three had excited looks on their faces.

"You have many animals that can be found in Valinor," Findalaurë said before either Alex or Derek could say anything, "but there are many that we have never seen before."

Alex shrugged. "I would suppose so. Each continent has animals that never evolved on other continents. I don’t see why Valinor would be any different."

"Thou... I mean, you do not understand," Findalaurë insisted. "All know that the Lady Yavanna and the Lady Vána brought forth all the animals and plants which inhabit this world. In the Earth Queen’s court in Valmar one can find every species of plants known to us. That you have animals that do not live in Valinor is a marvel to us and we wonder why it is so."

"We have no idea," Alex said with a shake of his head. "Do you, Ron?" He looked up at the Noldo, who was putting away his laptop. The Elf paused in his task and shook his head.

"Hadn’t really thought of it. Never having been to Valinor, I was unaware that some animals might not live there. I’m sure there are some creatures living in Valinor that have never been found here, or if so, they have left only skeletal remains to puzzle the paleontologists. Well, you should get on to lunch. By the way, I got a message from Glorfindel. He wants you three ellyn to return to Edhellond after lunch."

"Why?" Findalaurë asked, looking puzzled.

"Something about identity papers," Vorondur answered. "I think Daeron will be producing documents for you and you need to be there."

"I can bring them over before archery," Alex offered and Vorondur nodded, dismissing them and they left, stopping first at Alex and Derek’s room so they could drop off their book bags before heading for the cafeteria.

****

The archery class was coming to an end when Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen showed up with Glorfindel and Finrod. They stood to one side and watched as the Mortals aimed at the targets with Elrohir and Elladan moving up and down the line, giving pointers and correcting people’s stances. Then the class ended and several minutes were spent putting the equipment away. Alex, looking to where the Elves were standing, noticed with some surprise the look of hunger on Elennen’s face and even Findalaurë and Calandil looked mildly interested. He remembered that it was Elennen who had been sporting a bow when they were first introduced. Obviously, the ellon was an avid archer himself.

"So, everyone get new identities?" he asked with a smile as he and Derek, along with the Twins, joined Glorfindel and the others. The three younger ellyn all nodded. "Good. I’m glad that little detail has been taken care of."

"It should make things easier," Glorfindel said. "Come spring we’ll also have them take driving lessons so they can get proper licenses."

"Oh lord," Derek said, giving a convincing shudder. "I’m glad I’m not going to be their instructor. I pity the poor smuck who gets to teach you lot how to drive."

Glorfindel and the Twins chuckled. "We’ll handle the lessons," Glorfindel said, then he turned to the Twins. "I’m giving Finrod a tour of the campus. You want to join us or do you have other plans?"

Both ellyn shrugged. "We’ll join you," Elladan said.

"Good. What about you two?" Glorfindel turned to Alex and Derek. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"I think we’re scheduled for the post office in the morning," Alex answered, "and then I have a session with Ron after lunch."

"Ah, the letters to Santa," Glorfindel said with a smile. "It was most enjoyable to read what the children wanted for Christmas and to write a response."

Both Mortals shrugged. "I guess," Derek said somewhat diffidently.

"Well, we won’t keep you from your dinner," Glorfindel said. "Enjoy the rest of the evening."

They bade the Elves goodnight and the two groups went their separate ways. As they were walking back to the Academy, Calandil asked who Santa was and why did children write letters to him. Both Alex and Derek were at a loss as to how to explain a cultural concept that had been evolving for centuries and finally Derek just told them that it was a Christmas tradition and that Santa, even if not a real person, represented the spirit of giving to which the season was dedicated. It wasn’t a perfect answer but it seemed to satisfy the Elves well enough.

The next morning, after breakfast, those who were scheduled to help at the post office hopped on one of the campus busses and they were soon in Wiseman and entering the post office where a woman named Joan greeted them and led them to a back room. "You-all know what to do," she said as people took their seats at the tables and began reading the letters that were piled before them. Alex took a moment to introduce the woman to the three ellyn, explaining that they were prospective students shadowing them for the week. Joan gave them a bright smile. "Well, why don’t you sit on over here and I’ll show you what to do," she said and as Alex and Derek took their own seats, Joan spent several minutes explaining the procedure to the three Elves and a few minutes later they were cautiously opening their first letters and reading them, then carefully writing out what was written on the large posters hanging above them. Findalaurë was the first to finish a letter and hesitantly showed it to Derek who was seated near by. Derek took a quick glance at it and nodded and Findalaurë gave him a relieved look as he set that letter aside and went to the next one.

And so the morning passed quietly and soon it was time for lunch. While some students elected to remain in town to eat lunch and do some shopping, Alex and Derek decided to return to the college and the three ellyn joined them.

"The letters were interesting, but most confusing," Findalaurë commented. "I did not understand most of what was in them. What are transformers?"

"And this Star Wars," Calandil added. "What is a light saber? It soundeth... sounds like a weapon. Do you give your children weapons as gifts? I thought you said this was a season dedicated to peace."

Alex and Derek exchanged amused looks and then endeavored, with little success, to explain. In the end, the Elves seemed no more enlightened than before but decided to leave it. As they entered the building Alex said to them, "You go on to the cafeteria. I’m just going to check my email and then I’ll join you shortly."

Derek nodded and they separated at the top of the stairs. It was fifteen minutes later before Derek realized that Alex had yet to show up. "Something’s wrong," he muttered and without another word he stood up and got rid of his half-eaten lunch with the three ellyn close behind him. Opening the door to his room, he saw that it was empty but Alex’s laptop was open. He turned to Elennen. "Check the bathroom and see if he’s there. Maybe he’s had a relapse of the virus."

Elennen nodded and headed for the bathroom while Derek and the others went inside. Derek glanced at the laptop which had not yet gone into sleep mode and found himself reading the email that was up. As he read it, he began to swear.

"What is it?" Findalaurë asked. "What have you found?"

Derek looked up. "It’s apparently from one of Alex’s coworkers at the Agency," he answered, even as Elennen returned, shaking his head. "According to her, there’s no one matching Farrell’s description working at the Agency."

"What does that mean and where has Alex gone?" Calandil asked, his expression one of puzzlement.

"Those are two very good questions," Derek said with a sigh, even as he started fishing out his cell phone. He checked a number in his phone book and soon was speaking to Glorfindel, explaining what he’d discovered.

"Alex is missing and we have no idea where to start looking," he ended. He listened for a moment to whatever Glorfindel was saying then nodded. "We’ll be here," he said before shutting down his phone. "Loren says to stay put. He’ll be right over."

"Farrell," Findalaurë said. "Was he not the obnoxious person we met the other night?"

Derek nodded.

"Dost thou... I mean, do you think Alex has gone in search of this Farrell who seems not to exist?" Findalaurë ventured.

"I wish I bloody knew," Derek said with a sigh as he sat heavily in the chair before Alex’s desk, staring at the damning email, worried for his gwador, as they waited impatiently for Glorfindel to arrive.

66: The Enemy Within

Glorfindel arrived about fifteen minutes later with Finrod, Amroth and Vorondur in tow. Without a word, Derek turned the laptop around so they could read the email. Glorfindel’s expression was one of concern; Finrod was more interested in speaking with his son and the other two ellyn, while Amroth and Vorondur both grimaced at what they were reading.

"That makes no sense," Amroth said finally. "Farrell has to be working for the Agency, otherwise none of the other agents would follow him and he knows too much of what is going on not to have been sent by the Agency."

"So why would this Shanna Machell send this email saying otherwise?" Glorfindel countered.

Amroth shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"And we can spend all day playing guessing games while Alex is out there somewhere," Derek interjected hotly.

"What exactly do you think we can do about it?" Glorfindel shot back.

"Call in reinforcements," Derek replied. "You’ve got those Maiar running around loose, don’t you? Maybe one of them saw Alex leave and knows where he is."

"Even if I did call upon them, it is unlikely that they would respond or, if they did, that they would give us a straight answer or any answer at all," Glorfindel retorted with a frown.

"Then what in blue blazes are they doing hanging around if not to help us?" Derek demanded.

"They cannot interfere...."

"They’ve already interfered!" Derek shot back, nearly yelling, as he stood to face Glorfindel. "They’ve done nothing but interfere since Day One. Between them and you and that damn Farrell, Alex is being pulled in so many different directions he doesn’t know if he’s coming or going. He’s so confused that half the time he doesn’t know if he’s Alex, Artemus or the Man in the Moon. Half the time, I don’t know and that really scares me, even if it doesn’t scare you. He’s out there somewhere, probably trying to hunt down Farrell, and God knows what state he’s in."

"You’re being unfair," Glorfindel said somewhat angrily. "We’ve been trying to help him."

Before Derek could respond there was a series of lights and the smell of apples and Fionwë was in their midst. "Peace, my children," he said soothingly. "Your anger at one another does you no credit."

"Where is he?" Derek demanded.

"I cannot...."

"Then get the hell out of my face!" Derek nearly screamed, balling his hands into fists. "If you’re not here to help, you can just go to hell!"

"Derek!" Finrod exclaimed. "Calm down, child."

"Damn it all to hell, stop calling me that! Get out, all of you. You’re next to useless as far as I’m concerned. Get out, just get out!" He made a threatening gesture toward them, as if he’d like nothing more than to wring their necks or punch them out, forcing them to step back, their expressions more sorrowful than angry. Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen looked especially hurt.

At that moment, there was a greater flurry of lights that nearly blinded them and then all the Elves were bowing while Derek just stood there scowling. "Now what? Who invited you to this party?"

Námo, dressed in flowing robes of deepest midnight blue, raised an amused eyebrow at the Mortal while the Elves all had pained expressions on their faces. Fionwë merely rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I see some things never change," Námo said mildly. "The one thing I have always been able to count on is the insolence of Mortals. They do nothing but give me grief in one form or another. It’s most entertaining."

"I’m happy to see you’re so bloody amused," Derek shot back with a sneer. "Now, unless you have anything useful to say, I suggest you go back to wherever you came from and you can take them with you." He gestured to the Elves and Fionwë.

"Child, you need to take a deep breath and calm down," Námo said, still speaking mildly. "We are not the enemy and your intransigence is not helping matters."

"Lord Námo is correct, Derek," Finrod said. "We are all as anxious about Alex as thou’rt, but we have no more idea where he might be than thee."

"But they know," Derek countered, nodding towards the Vala and the Maia, giving them a dark look. "They know, but they won’t tell."

"Do you really wish for us to give you all the answers?" Námo asked. "Do you truly wish to give up your free will in all things? For that is what you are really asking when you demand that we tell you what you want to know."

"Then why are you even here, if you’re not going to help?" Derek demanded, sounding more frustrated than belligerent.

For a moment Námo did not answer, then turned to Fionwë. "You may return to your duties, my son," he said and without a word, the Maia bowed and faded from their sight. Námo gestured to the Elves and Derek. "Why don’t we sit?" Derek reluctantly resumed his seat before Alex’s desk while the Elves sat on the beds. Námo stood with his back to the door facing them, looking grave. "It is a legitimate question," he said, "but the answer is complicated. We are helping in ways that you cannot appreciate, but our help is very limited and only as the One directs. If you had no knowledge of our existence, Derek, what would you be doing?"

"Probably tearing Wiseman apart looking for Alex," Derek admitted.

Námo nodded. "A typical reaction, though ultimately futile, as a little thought will show you. Yet, you see our dilemma? Our interference, if that is what it is, is on a very limited scale and we are bound not to interfere to the extent where we destroy your own free will. Then, you only become our puppets and that may be as the Enemy wishes, but it is not our desire. We desire cooperation and companionship between you and the Eldar, not slaves."

Before anyone could comment, the door opened and to everyone’s astonishment, save perhaps Námo, Alex was standing there looking somewhat nonplused.

"Whoa! What’s going on here?" he asked.

"Where the hell have you been?" Derek demanded, leaping up to grab Alex by the shoulders, practically shaking him in his distress. "Are you okay? Where did you go? What the hell happened?"

"Hey! Will you back off?" He pushed Derek away, giving everyone a puzzled look. "Why are you all here, anyway?"

"Why? Why do you think?" Derek demanded, getting angry again. "You never showed up for lunch. I come back here and find this," — he pointed to the laptop — "and you missing."

"Oh, sorry," Alex looked somewhat chagrined. "I guess my mind was on other things."

"Other things?" Derek exclaimed.

Before Alex could reply, Amroth cut in. "Did you go looking for Farrell?"

"Huh? Uh... no. I knew that email was a fake."

"What???!!!" Derek nearly shouted. All the Elves looked almost as nonplused.

Alex nodded. "Shanna never sent it."

"And you know this how?" Derek asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Because of this," Alex replied calmly, going to the laptop and clicking on it, closing down the email and opening up another one.

Derek bent to read it, his expression one of confusion. "What does this mean?"

"Just what it says," Alex replied. "Shanna Machell couldn’t have sent that email because she was already dead when it was sent."

"Dead?" Amroth echoed.

Alex grimaced. "Yeah. Apparently the day after I sent her an email asking for information on Farrell, she was involved in a traffic accident. She hung on for some time but three days ago she died. Her funeral was yesterday and that email was sent this morning."

"An accident," Amroth said quietly. "How convenient." He shot a look at Námo who returned his look with equanimity.

"If you are wondering if it was truly an accident or murder, I cannot say, for it is a thing forbidden to me to speak of the true reasons for the deaths of others. That is a thing you must discover for yourself if you can."

Amroth nodded, apparently resigned to that explanation. Derek was not paying much attention, still focused on Alex.

"So, if you didn’t go looking for Farrell, where did you go?"

Now Alex looked sheepish. "When I read about Shanna and then saw the other email, I sort of blanked out. I ended up in the woods bordering the college to the west. I... I needed time to think."

"And you couldn’t take five seconds to let me know where you were going?" Derek asked.

"Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I just wasn’t thinking straight."

"Obviously," Derek said with a sneer, and then he snarled an oath, went to his closet and grabbed his coat.

"Where are you going?" Alex demanded.

"Out, before I do something we’ll all regret," came the reply as he flung open the door and stormed out.

"Derek, wait!" Alex went to go after him, but Námo stopped him. "Let him be. He needs time alone, even as you did." Alex grimaced but did not contradict the Vala.

"So if this Shanna didn’t send the email, just who did and what did they hope to gain by it?" Glorfindel asked in the ensuing silence.

Alex just shrugged. "Someone playing mind games with me for reasons of their own."

"Someone who had access to Shanna’s files and saw your original email to her," Amroth said.

"But the question remains, was it before or after the accident, if that is what it was?" Alex shot back. "If it was before, and the accident was arranged, that means that all my emails even to Maddy have been monitored, perhaps even hijacked so she’s not getting them or getting a modified version of them."

"Is that even possible?" Glorfindel asked.

Alex shrugged. "Anything is possible, but whether it’s probable is another matter. All I know is that someone wants me to think that Farrell has nothing to do with the Agency, but why is still a mystery." He sighed, rubbing a hand across his eyes as he undid his coat with the other. "Look, I think you should all leave."

"Alex...." Glorfindel started to say, but Alex just shook his head.

"Really, I think you need to leave," he said. "I appreciate your concern, but...."

"Call us if you need us," Vorondur said, speaking for the first time. "I don’t like the way things are shaping up. Someone is playing with us and I don’t like it. Innocent people can be hurt, perhaps they already have been, if it turns out that Shanna’s accident was no accident at all. Was she the only victim?" He turned to Námo who shook his head, but refused to say anything further.

Vorondur grimaced and muttered something in Quenya. Alex didn’t seem to be paying any attention, staring at his laptop and the email announcing Shanna Machell’s death. Quietly, the others left, leaving only Námo behind. For a long moment, neither he nor Alex moved or spoke. Alex stood, idly running a finger across the laptop’s keyboard. "She’s dead because of me, isn’t she?" he finally said, not looking up. "I killed her when I sent that email."

When Námo didn’t respond, he turned to face him. The Vala’s expression was hard to read but his eyes were full of compassion to a depth that was hard for the Mortal to comprehend and he had to look away, busying himself with removing his coat and hat, throwing them on his bed. He plopped bonelessly into the chair by his desk, his arms resting on his lap, his whole body bent over as if in defeat.

"I am so messed up," he whispered, "and now Derek hates me."

Námo reached out and lifted Alex’s chin, forcing him to look up. "Derek does not hate you," he said quietly, "but he is royally pissed off, as I believe the expression is, but once he calms down.... Artemus, there are forces out there that are inimical to you and to Elf Academy. We are entering into a war, a war that will decide the fate of this entire planet, if not the universe itself. And in any war, there will be casualties on both sides. Shanna Machell may or may not have been such a victim. I cannot say, for that is something that you must discover for yourself, if you can."

He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, it was with great firmness. "But know that, even if it appears we Valar are doing nothing to help, we are, as the One directs, doing what we can. The war itself, when it comes, may not come even in your lifetime or the lifetime of your children, should you ever have any, but it will come, and these are the opening sallies, with each side testing the other." He gave Alex a significant look and the Mortal nodded, understanding. "Good," he said. "I will leave you for now and check on Derek, make sure he is well. Before I go, though, I will leave you with this thought... you look upon Farrell as the enemy, but perhaps you should better think of him as another victim in this skirmish."

Before Alex could respond to that, the Vala faded away, leaving the Mortal to ponder his words.

****

Derek paid no attention to where he was going and was only mildly surprised to find himself standing before the very woods Alex had mentioned. He’d never been there before this and was only vaguely aware of the fact that the woods even existed. Snarling a muttered oath he moved between the trees, trying to understand what Alex saw in the place, but he was so incensed that it was nearly impossible for him to sense the calm and peace that radiated from the trees. He stumbled over a thick limb half-buried in the snow and stared at it for the longest time, as if unsure just what it was. Then, he stooped down to pull it out of the snow. It felt heavy and solid in his hands and before he knew it, he gave vent to his seething anger, and with a wordless cry, began striking against the nearby trees and fallen logs, beating against them with as much power as he could, imagining that he was hitting Farrell... Alex... Námo... even the Elves.

How long he let his rage rule him, he neither knew nor cared, but a time came when he attempted to strike a tree and missed, nearly stumbling to his knees, suddenly feeling exhausted, the limb heavy in his hands. He dropped it, and mindless of the churned up snow and mud, fell to his knees, panting for breath, tears heedlessly flowing. For several minutes all he could hear was the rasping of his breath as he attempted to get his breathing under control.

"Feeling better?"

He looked up to see Námo standing there.

"You again," Derek said, though he was too worn out to sound too belligerent.

"Me again," Námo said with a nod, holding out his hand. Derek hesitated for a moment and then reached up and grabbed the hand, allowing the Vala to pull him up. Then he was sitting on a snow-bare log feeling weak and suddenly thirsty. He was unsurprised when Námo produced a glass of water which he drank avidly, unaware that the glass never emptied until he had had his fill. He sighed as he handed the glass back to the Vala, nodding his thanks.

"So, are you here to chew me out?" Derek finally asked.

"No," Námo responded mildly. "That is not my job. You might want to apologize to the trees, though. They were quite hurt when you attacked them when all they wanted was to offer you their friendship."

Derek gave the Vala a puzzled look. "They’re just trees," he said in protest.

"They are living beings, child," Námo said somewhat coldly, "though they do not walk on two legs or even four and their thought patterns are not as yours, yet they feel pain and joy no less than you."

"Sorry," Derek replied, looking chagrined. "This is so screwy. What’s happening to me? I don’t remember feeling such rage before in my life and the good Lord knows I’ve had reason to feel such rage at times. Why now? And Alex...."

"You have entered a world that is darker, more dangerous, yet also more glorious, than you ever suspected existed and it is taking you time to assimilate all that you have been experiencing of late," Námo supplied. "Alex’s thoughtlessness gave you a fright and, admittedly, you handled it badly, but your reaction is understandable under the circumstances. Still, you need to decide how deeply you want to be involved in what is happening."

"What do you mean?" Derek demanded. "Do you think I can just walk away from all this, pretend it never happened?"

"I can arrange it so that you have no memory of any of this, if you want," Námo offered, looking grave. "You would leave here and return home convinced you had a pleasant time being a Christmas Elf and now you are ready to move on."

"And Alex?"

"Alex would have no memory of his gwador," Námo replied. "He’ll simply remember a pleasant enough young man who was his roommate, but nothing more than that." He shrugged. "He’ll be alone, but then, he’s used to that. And no, even the Elves will have no memory of you joining with them. Is that what you want?"

"You can actually do all that? Isn’t that interfering, though?"

"In a sense, but no one’s free will would be abrogated and I offer it only because the One allows it. You are free to walk away, if that is what you truly wish; the choice is entirely yours to make."

"And I take it that this is a one-time offer?" Derek asked, giving the Vala a considering look.

Námo gave him a ghost of a smile and nodded. "And it is a limited-time offer. When you leave these woods, you will either leave as Alex’s gwador... or you will not. If you decline this offer, then know that there is no going back. You will be committing yourself to this war and there are no guarantees that you will even survive it."

For several long moments, Derek said nothing, staring at the ground, his thoughts flitting from one scene to another in no particular chronological order: his first meeting with Alex, the dreams he’d had of being in the Iditarod before coming to Alaska, Alex and Caleb nearly drowning at the tarn and the miraculous appearance of four hikers who came to the rescue, Alex showing him the background documents on the Elves, the snowball fight when he, Alex and Amroth had made a wicked team, the enchanted pumpkins, meeting the Maiar, the games and cheering Alex on as he struggled to finish the race, meeting Eärendil and Finrod, the night at the Blue Petrel that went entirely pear-shaped in a hurry, and a host of other images, both significant and not. Finally he looked up at the Vala standing before him, still as a statue, waiting for his response and nodded.

"I’m in," was all he said.

Námo nodded gravely. "So be it," and the way he said it and the tone of his voice sent a shiver of fear or awe down Derek’s spine and he came to a dim realization that with those three little words, Námo had sealed his doom, whatever it might be. Yet, that did not really disturb him. Ultimately, he knew that he would die; that was a given, being Mortal, but the manner in which he might die no longer held any terror for him.

He struggled to stand, feeling a little lightheaded for some reason and Námo held out a hand to steady him. "Take a few deep breaths," he suggested and as Derek complied, the world seemed to right itself. "You should return to the Academy. Alex is waiting for you."

Derek nodded and started to leave, but Námo held him back. He gave the Vala a puzzled look. "Remember, child, the enemy within," and here he pointed at Derek’s heart, "can be more dangerous than the enemy without. Take care that you do not let it overtake you, as it did today."

Derek nodded in understanding and the Vala let him go.

****

Alex looked up when he heard the door open. He was still seated before his desk, sitting somewhat dejectedly, his mind wandering. He was feeling heart-sore and simply tired and longed to just pack it up and catch the first plane out of Fairbanks to Boston. He wanted nothing more than to go home, see his mom and forget all about the Agency, Elf Academy and Farrell.

"Hey," Derek said quietly as he stood a bit hesitantly in the doorway, as if unsure of his welcome.

"Hey," Alex replied. "Sorry. I really screwed up, didn’t I?"

"It happens," Derek said, shrugging out of his coat as he came all the way inside, closing the door and hanging up the coat in his closet. "I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have stormed out as I did, but I was pretty close to losing it altogether and I just needed some space."

Alex nodded. "So now what?"

"Now we go round up the three amigos and have dinner."

"Huh?" Alex gave Derek a perplexed look, not expecting such an answer.

Derek grinned. "I don’t know about you, but all that yelling’s given me an appetite and it’s nearly time for dinner."

"Is that all you can think about is your stomach?" Alex asked, grinning back.

"Hey! Navy, remember? We lived for the next meal."

Alex chuckled and stood up. "Okay, Navy man, let me freshen up a bit first and then we’ll go feed you."

"I’ll go check on the three amigos and meet you at the cafeteria." He paused, giving Alex a sober look. "You will be there, won’t you?"

"Yes, I’ll be there, I promise," Alex said gravely, understanding where Derek was coming from.

Derek nodded, opening the door. "See you in a few," he said, stepping out and heading down the hall. Alex grabbed his toiletry bag and headed in the opposite direction to the bathroom. Ten minutes later he joined Derek and the Elves in line. The Elves gave both Mortals concerned looks, but as neither Derek nor Alex deigned to say anything, keeping their conversation neutral and speaking of trivialities concerning the Academy, they remained quiet, willing to go along in pretending that the upset earlier never happened.

67: Back at Edhellond

The rest of the week went by quietly enough. Alex and Derek attended their classes with Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen tagging along. On Wednesday, the three ellyn were torn between watching the fencing and wanting to participate in the unarmed defense class. Amroth promised he would give them their first lesson in that after the regular class so they went willingly to watch the fencing, commenting afterwards on how different it was from sword fighting.

"It’s more stylized," Alex said in agreement. "It evolved into a sport rather than as a means of defense when guns were invented."

He and Derek agreed to wait while the ellyn received their first unarmed defense lesson, sitting on the bleachers, relaxing, smiling in amusement as Amroth and Vorondur competently threw the younger Elves onto the mat time and again. Calandil, surprisingly, seemed to understand the mechanics of what the older Elves were teaching them better than the other two and crowed in delight when he managed to throw Vorondur. It was not a smooth maneuver, being rather clumsily executed, but both Vorondur and Amroth praised him for his efforts and the other two ellyn applied themselves more diligently to the task of learning the moves that were being taught.

Derek gave Alex a significant look and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Methinks there is rivalry between the three amigos."

Alex grinned. "Methinks thou art correct. They’ve probably been competing against one another for so long it’s become second nature and they don’t even realize they’re competing."

Derek nodded. "So, can we use that to our advantage?"

Alex shook his head. "Probably, but I don’t really want to. These three are gwedyr to one another. It would be cruel to set them against each other, don’t you think? Right now, they have a healthy sense of competition between each other, trying to keep up with rather than trying to best the other two."

"Yeah," Derek allowed. "Still...." He gave Alex a sly grin and Alex just shook his head again, rolling his eyes.

When the lesson was over, Alex was careful to praise all three ellyn equally for their efforts. When Findalaurë muttered something about it being harder than it looked, Alex grinned. "You’ve only had one lesson. I spent years being trained in the martial arts. It’s not something that you get immediately. These days, children start learning when they’re three or four years old."

The three ellyn gave him considering looks. Calandil nodded. "I would like to take more lessons."

"I’m sure something can be arranged," Derek said. "I think most of the Wiseman Elves know some form of martial arts and would be willing to teach you. Well, it’s getting late. Why don’t we go get some dinner?"

The others agreed and soon they were back at the Academy joining the line to the cafeteria.

****

On Friday, when they went to their ‘On Being a Tour Guide’ class, the students were given their instructions for their test tours and dismissed. Derek and Alex compared notes while the three ellyn looked on.

"I have a family of three kids, all under the age of ten," Alex said, glancing through his sheets. "Which means no snowmobiling."

"You don’t sound too upset," Derek commented.

"Too loud," Alex replied. "I find I like the quiet more and more the older I get."

Derek just snorted in amusement as he looked over his own sheets. "Well, it looks as if I’m in the same boat. I’ve got a family with a thirteen-year-old and another that’s nine, so snowmobiling is out for me as well. Not that I care. So, what do you want to do since we have the rest of the day free?"

Alex shrugged. "I think I’ll wait until tomorrow to tackle this stuff. Why don’t we go into town for lunch and then grab a movie? Not sure what’s playing, but whatever."

"Sounds like a plan," Derek allowed, shoving the papers back into the manila envelope. After dropping the envelopes off at their rooms, the two Mortals and three Elves went into town and had lunch at the café before heading over to the small cinema where they ended up watching Thor, which Derek said he’d seen when it came out earlier that year, though Alex had not. The Elves were mesmerized by the entire experience as they munched on popcorn, their eyes wide. It was doubtful that they understood everything that was going on in the movie, but they seemed to enjoy it nonetheless and when they were all leaving the theatre afterwards, the three of them were practically talking over each other, bombarding Alex and Derek with questions, many of which neither could adequately answer, not being conversant with how films were created or about the special effects.

"It seemeth... I mean, seems so real, yet you say it is all fake?" Elennen asked.

Alex and Derek nodded. "It’s called special effects," Derek explained. "A lot of stuff is done by computers these days, simulating reality."

"And you say that these... um... actors really did not get hurt?" Findalaurë asked.

"No. They are just pretending. It’s part of how they do the special effects, so when Thor ‘dies’ it’s not for real, it’s just make-believe," Alex supplied.

"We have nothing like this in Valinor," Elennen offered, "though we can weave pictures with our songs for others to see."

"Yeah, I’ve had some experience with that," Alex said somewhat sardonically. "Since humans don’t have that ability, we came up with film to tell our stories."

They reached his car and climbed in. "You know," Alex said to the Elves as he started the car, "with classes over, there’s no point you hanging around us. Derek and I are going to be pretty busy working out our tours over the next several days. Why don’t you plan to return to Edhellond? Otherwise, I think you’re going to be pretty bored just sitting around."

The ellyn glanced at each other and then shrugged almost as one. "What you say makes sense," Findalaurë admitted, ever the spokesman for the three of them. "We will return to Edhellond tomorrow after breakfast."

"I can drive you over," Alex offered, but Findalaurë shook his head.

"We will walk," he said. "It is not far."

"Suit yourselves," Alex rejoined as he made the corner and headed for the campus.

****

After breakfast the next morning, Findalaurë and his gwedyr bade Alex and Derek farewell, and, slinging duffle bags filled with clothes over their shoulders, headed out. They reached Edhellond in good time, and eschewing knocking, entered the mansion, surprised to hear shouting down the hall. Dropping their duffle bags by the door, they made their cautious way towards the back of the house. The shouting appeared to be coming from the kitchen. As they came nearer, they could make out individual words.

"Absolutely not! And no one else will either."

That was Lord Glorfindel, speaking English, Findalaurë realized.

"Oh? And why not, pray tell?"

Findalaurë recognized his atar’s voice. The three ellyn exchanged worried looks as they entered the kitchen to find it crowded with a number of Elves, some of the Wiseman Elves looking on with faint amusement, while the Valinórean Elves who were there all looked somewhat affronted. Glorfindel gave an exasperated sigh.

"You have no idea how dangerous driving can be, especially in the winter," he said. "No one here is daft enough to teach you how to drive with the snow up to here." He gestured with one hand, bringing it level to his waist. "You’ll just have to wait until spring."

"How are we to blend in with the Mortals around us if we must be carted about by you?" Finrod demanded.

"First of all, there aren’t enough of us to teach all of you how to drive," Glorfindel explained. "Second of all, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea anyway. None of you have any first hand knowledge of modern technology. You need time to assimilate yourself to this society. So, until I say otherwise, no driving lessons."

Finrod raised an eyebrow. "I do not recall thee ever giving me orders," he said with a sniff. "If anything, I was the one giving orders."

"And when we both resided in Aman, that was only right, for you outranked me," Glorfindel allowed with a nod, "but the situation is different here. Here, I’m the designated leader and you’re going to have to accept that, at least for now. Later, we can argue about who has precedence over the other, but for your own safety, you need to let me make the decisions. You think you’ve been prepared for life in Middle-earth again, but I can tell you right now, that is not the case."

"So far, mellon nîn, all thou hast ever said to any of our suggestions hath been ‘no’." That was Lord Erestor, lounging insolently at the breakfast nook. "Methinks thou hast taken thy role as our protector too far."

"Well, until you can all speak proper English, that’s just the way it has to be," Glorfindel shot back. "I cannot believe the Valar would do this to me, sending you lot without proper preparation. Do they think this is a game? We’re struggling to keep on the good side of the Mortals in this town and the last thing any of us needs is to give them more fuel for their prejudices. Not all of them welcome us with open arms, and they will see your arrival as a veritable invasion."

"Then what can we do?" one of the ellith said with a pout. It was the Lady Lindorillë, wife of Lord Erestor, Findalaurë noticed.

"We can all take a deep breath and a step back and realize that none of us is the Enemy here," Vorondur ventured. "Glorfindel is correct when he says you have little idea what life is like here and how precarious our situation truly is."

"How so?" Finrod demanded.

"With Richard Martina’s death, the entire dynamics of the college has changed," Glorfindel supplied. "The acting president, George Stillman, is not exactly enthusiastic about us, though he’s not overtly against us either." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Damn Richard for dying."

Findalaurë watched Lord Daeron place a comforting hand on Glorfindel’s arm.

"Thou art most upset over the death of this Mortal," Finrod said.

Glorfindel opened his eyes. "Richard was a dear friend and a staunch ally. His presence is sorely missed and our grief at his passing is still deep."

"But he was a Mortal," Nielluin protested and Findalaurë scowled (as he always did) at his cousin. "They die all the time. I don’t see why you need be so upset over the death of any of them."

Findalaurë noticed the Wiseman Elves giving his cousin disbelieving looks. Glorfindel’s expression went from disbelief to near rage and he uttered an oath that was quite vile, causing every ellith there to gasp in shock as he strode to the back door, flinging it open and storming out, slamming the door behind him.

The silence that ensued was awkward and fraught with much tension. Finrod scowled at Nielluin, who refused to back down. Findalaurë took a hesitant step forward. "A-atto?" he said.

For the first time it seemed that the others actually noticed the arrival of the three ellyn, for Finrod looked up, his expression one of surprise. "Finda, what are you doing here?" he said, opening his arms to allow his son to come forward to be embraced. Valandur and Laurendil did the same for the other two ellyn.

"Alex and Derek are working on their... their examination," Findalaurë explained. "They thought we should return here because there is nothing for us to do at the Academy with no more classes being held."

"I see," Finrod said. "And what hast thou learned this week past?"

Findalaurë grimaced, casting a dark look at Nielluin. "Well, certainly not to say stupid things about the Mortals."

Nielluin bristled and started to comment but Finrod cut her off. "Enough! Nielluin, I am deeply ashamed of thee. Thou hast shown thyself to be more haughty than I thought. Even thy mother, for all her faults, did not disparage the Mortals as thou hast. I am regretting letting thee come. If thou canst not find within thyself some compassion for others, thou shalt find thyself with few friends and many enemies."

"Your uncle speaks truly, child," Daeron said gravely. "And that goes for all of you, or at least, those of you who have had little or no congress with the Mortals before this. You little appreciate how truly precarious our position here is. We Wiseman Elves, as Alex and Derek like to call us, have survived as long as we have because we’ve learned to hide our true natures and to treat the Mortals around us with respect. Richard Martina was indeed a dear friend and while his death was inevitable, being a Mortal, still it was a shock and our grief remains great. You need to respect that and us. Many of you suffer from the same arrogance that the Noldor displayed when they first came to these shores, lording over us who had made Middle-earth our home. That attitude cannot and will not be tolerated here."

"And I concur," Finrod said, giving the loremaster a respectful bow. "I fear Glorfindel was correct. The Valar hath ill prepared us for life in Middle-earth as it is lived today. I do not know their reasoning but it matters little at the moment. We will be guided by you Wiseman Elves until we can safely move among the Mortals without fear of retaliation."

"That’s a wise decision," Vorondur said. "You’ve landed in the middle of a hornet’s nest of trouble and the outcome is unsure. Now, I’ll go see how Glorfindel is doing while you get these three settled." He turned to the three ellyn. "Do you wish to follow Alex and Derek when they do their actual tours?"

All three ellyn nodded. "It would be interesting to see how they do," Findalaurë replied. "I know Alex has no real wish to act as a guide but he continues to play the role of student and... and I find myself admiring him for it, knowing how much he hates it and wants to do other things." He gave them all a shy look, as if his admission would prove unwelcome to the others.

Finrod simply gave him a hug. "I will go with thee, Vorondur. My gwador hath need of me."

"We really need to get all of you up to speed on modern English," Amroth said with a smile. "I think we should begin holding classes for you all this weekend. We’ve been somewhat remiss."

"Do what thou thinkest best," Finrod said, then gestured to Vorondur and the two went out to the back garden where they found Glorfindel sitting on the patio, heedless of the snow. He had his arms wrapped around his knees and was rocking back and forth, staring into space. Even as Finrod and Vorondur approached, he spoke, never looking up.

"I refuse to apologize and I would appreciate it if you would just leave me alone."

"Not going to happen, my friend," Vorondur said, crouching easily on Glorfindel’s right even as Finrod did the same on his left. "I know you are in a lot of pain, and Nielluin’s words were thoughtless, but...."

"There’s always a but," Glorfindel sneered, still refusing to make eye contact with either of them.

"But you should not let her get to you," Vorondur said with a nod. "She’s naught but a child and a very uninformed one at that. I can see much of her mother in her. It’s a pity she didn’t take after Celeborn more."

Finrod snorted. "A great pity. I’ve done what I could to temper her but she is her mother’s daughter right enough. I am sorry for her words, gwador. They were indeed those of a thoughtless child. Now, as much as I hate to admit it, thou hast the right of it and we of Valinor are ill prepared for life here. So, please, come back inside and let us begin again. Amroth hath stated that he wisheth to hold classes whereby we will be taught proper speech. It gladdens me to hear my son speaking properly. His time with Alex and Derek hath paid off."

Glorfindel gave Finrod a puzzled look. "Your son? When...?"

"He and his gwedyr apparently heard our argument," Finrod said with a grin. "They have just returned from the Academy since there are no more classes for them to attend. They do wish to follow Alex and Derek when they do their tours, though."

"I guess something can be arranged," Glorfindel said, giving them a grimace as he unwound himself and started to stand up. "I really need to stop sitting in snow," he said as he attempted to brush the snow from his jeans.

Finrod and Vorondur stood up, grinning. "Come on," Vorondur said. "Let’s go inside and you can change while I help Amroth set up a schedule of classes. He’s right. We have been remiss, but we’ve been rather busy with teaching as well as seeing all of you settling in. Now that there are no more classes, we can concentrate on you more."

"And I think besides English classes we should probably give you a brief history lesson," Glorfindel said as the three made their way back inside. "You need to understand what has happened here over the millennia so you have a better idea of where the Mortals are coming from and why they are as they are today and not as you remember them from before."

"That sounds reasonable. Set up the classes and I will see that all attend," Finrod said. "Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to visit with my son and then I must needs devise a suitable punishment for Nielluin for her thoughtlessness."

Glorfindel gave him a knowing smile. "I can’t wait to see what you come up with."

"Neither can I," Finrod retorted with a wink and then left Glorfindel and Vorondur laughing as he went in search of his son.

68: Lessons

Finrod was surprised not to find Findalaurë immediately and wandered a bit through the mansion looking for his son and the others. Stopping one of the Wiseman Elves in the second floor hallway — Cennanion, he thought was the ellon’s name — and asking for Findalaurë, he was directed to the conference room where he found his son with his gwedyr, along with Barahir and Gilvegil, poring over what appeared to be a map. He remained at the door, willing the others not to take notice of his arrival just yet, curious as to why the youngsters were consulting a map.

"... which means that if Alex wants to include all the activities his test family has indicated, he would have to go here first," he heard Barahir say as the ellon pointed to a spot on the map while the three youngsters leaned closer. "Then, he can swing down this way, towards Chandalar, and head for Max’s reindeer farm. That will bring them closer to the grotto in time for the children to meet with Santa if they don’t make an intervening stop along the way."

"And Derek?" Elennen asked.

Gilvegil rifled through some papers until he found what he was looking for. "Let’s see, the family indicated they wanted to do snowshoe walking and reindeer sleigh riding. Hmm... the oldest child wants to do dog-sledding but there’s a note saying that the youngest is allergic to dogs, but the father is willing to accompany his son while the mother stays with their daughter. Which means Derek has to come up with an acceptable alternative activity for the younger child and mother."

"Where would they do the dog-sledding?" Findalaurë asked, peering at the map. "I recall Alex saying that the Northern Lights Holiday Resort was where he and Derek learned to handle them."

Both of the older Elves nodded. "Yes, though there are other places where they could do dog-sledding," Barahir said. "Here, for instance." He pointed to the map. "This would be a better option for them because while the father and son are dog-sledding, the mother and daughter can spend the time wandering through the resort’s ice maze. It’s something they construct every year and it’s never the same from one year to the next." He gave them a knowing smile. "In fact, I would wager that the older child might be tempted to forgo the dog-sledding and attempt the maze instead."

Gilvegil nodded in agreement and Finrod found himself smiling as well, knowing elflings as he did and suspecting that Mortal children were little different. He stepped further into the room, allowing the others to sense his presence. All five looked up. Barahir and Gilvegil gave the prince respectful bows of the head in acknowledgment, while the three youngsters stood straight.

"And here is where I find you," Finrod said with an easy smile. "I gather you are attempting to learn what Alex and Derek will be doing on their tours?"

"They wanted to know what the tours were all about and what activities were available," Barahir replied. "We used Alex’s and Derek’s tests tours as examples of how the tours are done."

"And dost thou wish to become an Elf Guide as well, my son?" Finrod asked with a glint of humor in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders, giving him a brief kiss of benediction on his forehead.

"Atto! That’s for Mortals," Findalaurë protested, as if his father had suggested he play a game fit for very young elflings.

Both Barahir and Gilvegil chuckled. "Not just for Mortals, young Finda," Gilvegil said. "Glorfindel and the others who first came to Wiseman will also act as guides when the touring season begins in a couple of weeks."

All three of the younger ellyn gave him surprised looks. "But why?" Calandil asked.

"Because the Valar have willed it so," Barahir answered gravely. "Those Mortals for whom Glorfindel and the others act as guides will be the ones who will learn of our existence. They are the ones the Valar themselves have chosen to join us. Some will apply to become students at the Academy next year so that they can become tour guides while others will move into Wiseman or the surrounding villages with their families and take our night classes. Slowly our numbers are growing, but it will be a long, drawn-out process that will take many years to accomplish."

The three ellyn had thoughtful looks. "So that means there won’t be any fighting?" Elennen asked tentatively.

"Not for some time," Gilvegil answered. "None really know when the Dagor Dagorath will commence, not even the Valar. It may be in a few years or a few centuries from now. I sincerely hope it’s the latter, for we are ill prepared for it at this time. I fear that the Valar started too late in preparing us who reside here for the coming battle."

"The Valar have their own timetable," Finrod offered. "It often does not coincide with ours. They will tell you that they do all as Eru wills, but sometimes I get the feeling that they just do not have the same time sense as we who are incarnate."

Both of the older ellyn nodded. "We got that impression as well," Barahir said with a sardonic smile. "Glorfindel thinks they do it on purpose just to aggravate him."

Finrod chuckled. "He hath always been suspicious of their motives e’en from the first. I am afraid that the events which occurred in his first year as a Reborn did not help matters between them."

"He has never spoken of those times, except in vague hints and asides," Barahir said. "He rarely speaks of his life here in Middle-earth when he resided in Imladris. I always had the impression that Glorfindel finds the past distasteful and looks only to the present and the future."

"Distasteful... hmm... an interesting concept," Finrod allowed. "Those of us who are Reborn have a different sense of what is important. Most Elves reside in memory, especially the older ones. I know from speaking with my sister how she sought to recreate Aman in Lothlórien during the Third Age. It is not something I would have done. The past is just that, the past, and, as Lord Námo would say, it is not an adjunct of the present. All we are ever assured of is this present moment and what we do with it. The Reborn recognize this, though the Once-born often do not. Glorfindel is merely living as he was taught by the Fëanturi during his sojourn in Mandos and later in Lórien, even as I was taught."

"Living among the Mortals as we have," Gilvegil said, "we have learned to take the present moment as the gift that it is."

Barahir nodded. "None of us could ever figure out why we did not feel the need to Sail when all others of our kin did, or why we did not fade over time. Something within us kept us on these shores and refused to let us go. Now, of course, we understand, but the long stretch of time which we have had to endure here has taken its toll. Our light is dimmer than yours, for instance, though until you came, it was not readily noticeable."

"Yet, you have a solidity that we lack and that we must assume if we are to survive here," Finrod pointed out. "You are stronger than you know. The millennia may not have been kind to you in some ways, but in other ways you are far superior to us who come from Valinor. You move easily among the Mortals and are comfortable with their way of life, adopting it for yourselves. That is something we of Valinor must learn. It is why I wished for my son and his gwedyr to live at the Academy for a time, so that they may learn even as you have."

"Well, at any rate," Barahir said as he began folding up the map, "if you three wish to accompany Alex and Derek on their tours, I do not see where there would be a problem, but it must be their decision. They may not feel comfortable having you tag along while they are attempting to act as Elf Guides. This is a test, after all, and there will be someone from one of the resorts grading them on how well they do. They’ll be nervous enough without having an audience, so to speak."

"We will abide by their decision," Findalaurë said with a nod.

"Perhaps we can join them when they are acting as guides for real," Calandil said.

"Derek perhaps," Elennen replied, "but I do not know if Alex will continue with this... this..." he switched to Quenya, clearly frustrated at not knowing the English word.

"Charade," Barahir offered and the younger ellon nodded.

"Yes, charade. Thank you."

"I am surprised he is even bothering with the test tour," Finrod said. "Why is he not looking for this Farrell all of you are so worried about?"

"He would like nothing better than to do just that," Gilvegil answered, "but Amroth has forbidden him."

"Amroth?!" Finrod repeated. "I did not think Amroth would have such authority over Alex."

"Normally not," Barahir nodded in agreement, "but remember, Amroth was his instructor at the Agency, and therefore, in a sense, his superior. Alex will obey Amroth before he will deign to obey Glorfindel or anyone else."

Finrod nodded. "I see. Well, it gladdens me to see that you and your gwedyr are becoming more comfortable among Mortals, my son," he said to Findalaurë. "Now I must needs see that others have the same experience."

"I was hoping we would be fighting," Elennen said with a frown. "Why are we truly here if not to fight?"

"Oh, don’t worry about that," Barahir said with a chuckle. "If you want a fight, we’ll let you play with Glorfindel the next time he’s in the mood to beat someone to a pulp."

Finrod grinned. "And how many does he take on at a time?"

"If he’s in a real bad mood, he usually has five of us attack him at once," Barahir replied.

Finrod nodded. "That sounds about right. Perhaps the next time I will convince him to fight just me instead."

"Oh?" Gilvegil said, giving the prince an amused look. "I don’t think Glorfindel’s ever fought against just a single opponent. At the minimum he usually has at least two others fighting him at the same time."

"Ah, but when Glorfindel and I fight one another, we usually end up utilizing Songs of Power." He gave them all a conspiratorial wink. "It maketh the Valar very nervous when we do that."

"Ah...." was Barahir’s only response to that statement. "Well, I would be interested in seeing that. In the meantime, if you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to."

"As do I," Gilvegil said. "I’ll check with Alex and Derek and find out how they feel about you three tagging along and I will let you know as soon as possible. I have no idea when they will be doing their tours. We have a computer program that randomly schedules the tours, so they could be one of the first or the last."

The three ellyn nodded in understanding and the two Wiseman Elves gave them respectful bows as they exited the conference room. Finrod smiled at the three youngsters. "Why don’t we sit and you can tell me what you have learned this week past."

The three ellyn complied and soon they were describing the various classes and the Mortals whom they had met while Finrod listened carefully, asking clarifying questions now and then, mentally formulating his own plans.

****

Later that afternoon, the Valinórean Elves dutifully filed into the conference room, the largest room in the house, taking seats along the perimeter of the conference table while Glorfindel and the other Wiseman Elves were congregated together at one end, quietly conversing. When everyone had found a seat, Glorfindel addressed them.

"Now that we are no longer teaching, we can concentrate on you," he said, "and begin teaching you what you need to know so you can integrate yourselves more fully into this society. To that end, we’ll split you up into two groups to make it more manageable while we team teach. We will concentrate on teaching you modern English but we will also give you a history of Middle-earth as it has been lived by the Mortals these past seven thousand or so years. The history course will be necessarily brief and we will end up glossing over much of it, concentrating on the history of this country and especially the last century so you have an idea as to where the Mortals are coming from and why they are as they are now, rather than how some of you may remember them when you were last here."

There were nods among a number of the Elves. "We will also begin teaching you how to handle the various technologies which are commonplace among the Mortals of this time," Glorfindel continued. "Eventually, you will become conversant with cell phones, iPods, computers and the like. So, why don’t we have you count off by twos. Anyone who is a one can stay here, while the twos can retire to the library."

He nodded at Finrod who called out ‘one’ and then Findalaurë called out ‘two’ and in a short while everyone had a number and the twos were all getting up to leave with four of the Wiseman Elves joining them. Glorfindel remained in the conference room with Vorondur, Ercassë and Serindë while everyone else not involved with teaching at that time went their separate ways.

"So, let’s begin," Glorfindel said briskly. "The first thing we’ll do is review pronouns. Modern English has simplified it somewhat, dropping the ‘thou’ form of address, and substituting the ‘you’ form for both singular and plural second person."

"Then the ‘thou’ form is no longer used?" Beleg asked.

"Only in special cases," Glorfindel replied, "and rather than be an intimate form of address reserved for children or close relatives and friends, it has become a more formal form of address when speaking to Eru."

"The Mortals speak directly to Eru?" Valandur asked in surprise. "How do they dare? Even we do not."

"And the why and wherefore of that is something we will discuss when we get to the history lesson," Glorfindel said. "Suffice to say that Mortals have always petitioned their gods and when the knowledge of the One was taught them, they continued the tradition of petitioning Him, either as a community or as individuals. But let us continue with English for the nonce. Now, notice that in the third person singular, the ‘eth’ ending has been replaced entirely with ‘es’, so for example, ‘he hath’ is rendered as ‘he has’ and the same with ‘she’ and ‘it’."

"Mine uncle Fëanor would not have been impressed by the change," Finrod said with a sardonic look. "It soundeth... er... sounds very much like the change of ‘thúlë’ to ‘súlë’ that had mine uncle so upset."

"Except the Mortals did not make the difference in pronunciation a matter of clan distinction which eventually polarized the Noldor," Vorondur said with a smile. "At least, I recall my parents speaking about it thus when I was young. As you may recall, my lord, the Exiles soon re-adopted the ‘thúlë’ pronunciation in their own speech because Sindarin favors it over the ‘súlë’ pronunciation."

Finrod nodded. "Yes, I well recall that and found it amusing, since in my household we adhered to the older form as a matter of course, for our Vanyarin kin also used it and considered the newer pronunciation uncouth."

"Well, that’s getting away from our lesson," Glorfindel said, steering the conversation back to the subject at hand. "Why don’t we take a moment or two to practice using the ‘es’ form for the third person singular and the ‘you’ form for the second person singular. The verb form for that is the same as that of the second person plural, which means the only real changes in conjugation lie with the first person singular and third person singular. All the others have the same verb form throughout."

And so, the Valinórean Elves dutifully complied with Glorfindel’s instructions and for a time, they all practiced speaking the more modern forms.

****

Later that evening, several of the Mortals who were friends of the Wiseman Elves came over for a party, having been invited by Glorfindel to meet the newcomers. Thus, the Valinórean Elves were introduced to Zach, Jud, Shane and the others who had befriended the Elves early on. Along with them came Nicole and her children, with Tim Saunders, Nicole’s love interest. The Michaelsons were also there, though Dave was not, as he was on duty that night. The Valinórean Elves were naturally enthralled at the sight of the children, especially young Caleb happily and unselfconsciously speaking Sindarin, lisping slightly because of his missing front teeth. The older children were somewhat more reticent but a few of the younger Elves encouraged them to speak in Sindarin while they themselves practiced their English on them.

All the Mortals were in awe of Finrod, Beleg and the two Legolases, but the Elves quickly put them at their ease with their banter, the three Sindar easily ganging up on Finrod, the lone Noldo, who, nevertheless, gave as good as he got and soon they were all laughing at their antics.

A few of the Valinórean Elves held themselves somewhat aloof, and Finrod, watching them, realized they were ones who had had no contact with Mortals. One such was Nielluin, who, while not outwardly cold or hostile, nevertheless, acted as if she were superior to the Mortals around her. He noticed Zach and Lily trying to engage his niece in conversation. She was polite but somewhat distant. Eventually, the two Mortals gave up and went in search of food. Finrod frowned, reminding himself that he still needed to come up with a suitable punishment for the elleth as he wandered through the mansion. He chanced upon Glorfindel sitting with Helyanwë, who had already adopted the Mortal name ‘Helena’. They were in the kitchen, sitting in the breakfast nook with Nicole Lord and Tim Saunders sitting opposite. Finrod smiled in amusement as he saw his gwador not so casually, almost shyly, put an arm around the elleth’s shoulders, even as Tim had an arm around Nicole’s. Helyanwë did not appear to reject his overture.

"Tim and I want to get away for a weekend," Nicole was saying as Finrod entered the kitchen, "but I haven’t found anyone who will be willing to look after the kids. Adam is still too young to be trusted with watching over his younger siblings for an entire weekend by himself."

Glorfindel nodded. "When were you hoping to go and where?"

"Next weekend before the holiday craziness descends upon us," Tim answered with a grin. "We’re just planning to go to Fairbanks. We’ll leave Friday afternoon and be back on Sunday. Nicole really needs the time off from being ‘mom’ twenty-four seven."

"What about Zach?" Glorfindel suggested. "I know the kids adore him."

"He was the first person I thought of," Nicole said, "but he was with us during the storm when the children were all sick. I think he deserves a break from us as well."

"I would say to leave them with us, but as you can see, we’re a bit crowded as it is," Glorfindel said.

"Perhaps I can offer a solution," Finrod said, moving toward them. He nearly laughed aloud when Glorfindel gave him a guilty look, quickly removing his arm from around Helyanwë’s shoulders. The elleth didn’t seem pleased with that but did not otherwise make a comment. The two Mortals gave him enquiring looks. "I have someone in mind to watch over your children. She is somewhat young, as we Elves would reckon her, but she is capable and will see that no harm comes to them."

"And who do you have in mind?" Glorfindel asked, smiling knowingly at Finrod.

"Let me call her," Finrod said and then simply stood there in silence. The two Mortals gave him puzzled looks that transmuted into shock when an elleth entered the kitchen. Finrod turned, giving the elleth a smile, gesturing for her to join them, which she did, her expression somewhat wary.

Finrod turned back to Nicole and Tim. "This is my niece, Nelluin, who I believe prefers to be known as Nell. This is Nicole and Tim, child," he said to his niece.

Nelluin nodded slightly in greeting while the two Mortals muttered ‘hellos’. "I have been thinking of a suitable punishment for you, my dear," Finrod said conversationally, "and Nicole has offered me a solution."

"Whoa! What punishment?" Tim dared to ask. "We’re just trying to find someone to look after Nicole’s kids for a few days."

"And Nelluin will be happy to do so, will you not?" Finrod replied, giving his niece a stern look.

"For how long?" Nelluin asked, meekly enough.

"Three days," Finrod answered. "Nor will you be alone in doing so. I will ask Laurendil and Manwen to check on you to make sure you and the children are well."

"Why not just have this Laurendil and... Manwen?... watch the kids instead?" Tim insisted.

"My niece needs the lesson," Finrod explained.

"I don’t appreciate you turning my children into a lesson for anyone," Nicole said, her eyes narrowing. "Forget I asked. I’ll see if one of the neighbors can stay with the kids instead."

"No, Nicole," Glorfindel said, speaking gravely. "Finrod has the right of it. Nelluin needs to learn about Mortals and how to interact with them. At the moment, interacting with adults seems not to work too well. Your children will prove less threatening to her and make it easier for her to learn how to interact with all Mortals."

"Yet, I can tell that she doesn’t even want to watch them," Nicole countered. "I cannot trust my children to someone who wants nothing to do with them or us. I won’t endanger them that way."

"Have no fear of that, my lady," Finrod said. "You perhaps do not appreciate how we Elves feel about children. If I ask Nelluin to watch over them, she will do so and offer them all the care that they need. Indeed, she would sacrifice herself if need be to ensure their safety. No Elf would ever countenance placing any child, even a Mortal child, in danger."

"That isn’t the impression I got from the history classes I’ve been taking," Tim said somewhat sardonically.

Finrod nodded. "Perhaps I should have said, no sane Elf, and while my niece is arrogant to a fault, she is not insane."

Silence fell about them as the two Mortals thought about Finrod’s words, gazing into each other’s eyes. Finrod watched with interest, wondering if these two could communicate silently in the same way as he and his beloved Amarië could. Tim gave a slight shrug, and Nicole sighed, glancing at Finrod and Nelluin, who stood beside her uncle, trying not to scowl.

"Have you had any experience in caring for younger children?" Nicole asked the elleth.

Nelluin shook her head, then decided to speak. "My uncle would not ask me of this if he did not think I was capable. I promise that I will do all in my power to ensure your children’s health and well being while you are away. Besides," she added with a sniff, "how hard can it really be?"

Now Tim and Nicole, and even Glorfindel, chuckled. "Oh, famous last words, if there ever were any," Glorfindel said. "It is a fitting punishment, gwador. Three days dealing with Caleb should show her the error of her ways."

"Hey!" Nicole protested, playfully slapping Glorfindel on the wrist. "That’s my baby you’re talking about."

"Then it is settled," Finrod said, steering the conversation away from the incipient argument that he sensed might be brewing between the Mortal woman and his gwador. He had met the rambunctious Caleb and secretly agreed with Glorfindel. If anyone could cure his niece of her arrogance, Caleb Lord could. "I will have Nell come to your home next Friday. What time do you leave?"

"The kids get home from school at three," Nicole said, "and we’ll leave by three-thirty."

Finrod nodded. "Then we will be there at three." He gave them a slight bow and taking Nelluin by an elbow, led her out of the kitchen. He stopped halfway down the hall, giving his niece a sober look. "Do not disappoint me, daughter," he said.

Nelluin, recognizing the tone, knew that it was not her uncle who was speaking, but the former King of Nargothrond and the present heir to the Noldorin throne. She nodded and said, "I will not." Then paused, giving him a puzzled look. "But really, Uncle, how hard can it truly be?"

Finrod smiled. "We’ll just have to wait and see," he said, leaning over to give her a kiss in benediction, then leaving her to herself as he went in search of Laurendil to let him and Manwen know what he had decided.

****

Fëanturi: (Quenya) Masters of Spirits, i.e., Námo and Irmo.

69: Biding Time

The party broke up sometime later. Young Caleb was discovered in the upper sunroom, fast asleep on the area rug face down. Nicole came to retrieve him. One of the ellith who happened to be in the sunroom at the time gave her a knowing smile.

"He was running around one minute and then the next he just dropped."

Nicole smiled back as she lifted her son into her arms, the boy snuggling into her without waking. "If only we could bottle all that energy and sell it we would be very rich."

The ellith all laughed as they bid the Mortal woman good-night.

As she came down the stairs, Tim was there with their coats, helping her to clothe the still sleeping child while the older children stood yawning but determined to remain awake for the short ride home. Glorfindel and several other Elves were there to see them on their way, thanking them for coming. Once all the Mortals were gone, the Elves went their separate ways, some retiring to their rooms, others congregating in the kitchen or the library or the upper sunroom, a few donning cloaks and stepping outside to wander under the stars for a time. Glorfindel was in the kitchen cleaning up and putting things away. Elrohir was also there setting up the Mr. Coffee for the morning, while Serindë was putting out plates and silverware on the dining room buffet in preparation for the morrow’s breakfast. Finrod was sitting in the breakfast nook, looking on. His son and his two gwedyr were also there.

"Do you wish for us to return to the Academy?" Findalaurë asked his father.

Finrod shook his head. "For the time being, I think you can remain here. When do Alex and Derek do their tours?" he asked Glorfindel, who was putting away some tupperware.

"We’ll let them know when they hand in their tour schedules on Tuesday," he replied. "We need a couple of days to look them over and make sure they are doable. The first test tours will begin on next Friday. They will run until the following Wednesday. We’ll give everyone a two-day break for Thanksgiving and finish the tours next weekend. We’re reserving the Monday after Thanksgiving for any tours that are cancelled due to the weather."

"And when do they begin to act as guides for real?" Calandil asked.

"According to Roland, the resorts will begin operation on the first day of December, which this year falls on a Thursday. Most of their clientele won’t arrive until the weekend, but the students need to go through orientation and be advised as to what their duties will be and prepare themselves for the first tours."

"And you will be there with them," Finrod said, making it more a statement than a question.

Glorfindel nodded as he wiped down the counter around the sink. "I and those who were with me when I first came here, though Della and Misty are still in Fairbanks and are likely to remain there for the time being, so I’m not sure if someone will take their places or not. The Valar insist that we play Elf Guides to certain people to whom we will reveal ourselves. Personally, I would rather have others do it. I know Ron and Barry, for instance, are eager to do so. Unfortunately, the Valar have not given their permission to let the others... um... play." He gave them a sardonic look.

"You do not enjoy playing an Elf Guide?" Findalaurë ventured.

"Oh, it’s not that," Glorfindel admitted. "But it does take up a good deal of my time. Just as Alex and Derek and the other students, I will have to prepare each and every tour assigned to me and believe me, even after two years of doing so, it’s not always easy to come up with a doable plan. And don’t forget, the Academy is still running during this time. The students will continue living there during the duration, so they will still need to be fed, their bedding laundered and everything else. So on top of acting as a guide, I also have to continue with my administrative duties."

"But surely, others can do that," Finrod protested.

"And they do," Glorfindel averred. "But, as the chief administrator, I still have to sign off on things and I still need to deal with the rest of the college, not to mention the authorities in Wiseman. Luckily, people like Marian and Zach and our other friends are a great help during this time, but still...." He gave them a shrug as he neatly folded the towel and hung it up to dry.

"And our presence only complicates things more," Finrod stated.

"A little," Glorfindel said with a faint smile. "It’s not that we don’t appreciate you being here, any of you, but it would’ve been better if the Valar had waited to send you after the New Year when things begin to slow down a bit and we would have had more time to prepare for your coming. Okay, you two, a little daylight between you."

Finrod and the three younger ellyn stood up to look in the direction of Glorfindel’s gaze and saw Elrohir and Serindë in the dining room looking both guilty and affronted. Finrod assumed they had been kissing or perhaps merely holding each other close. Elrohir glared at them. "We don’t need a chaperone, Captain. This isn’t Imladris or even Aman, where I’m sure they still keep to the old ways."

"Yeah, well, discretion is the watchword of the day," Glorfindel retorted and Finrod snorted quietly in amusement at that, giving Glorfindel a knowing look, remembering all the times when ‘discretion’ did not appear to be part of his gwador’s vocabulary. Glorfindel ignored him.

"Have you set a date for the wedding?" Finrod asked, hoping to divert whatever argument appeared to be rising between his gwador and the younger son of Elrond.

Elrohir nodded, wrapping a protective arm around Serindë’s waist. "We have chosen the sixth of April. It’s a Friday. We will have an evening ceremony to allow our Mortal friends to attend after work."

"An appropriate day," Glorfindel said with a nod, apparently willing to drop the subject of chaperones for the time being, and at Finrod’s enquiring look he added, "April the sixth is equivalent to the Elven New Year as it was celebrated in Imladris."

"Ah, yes," Finrod said with a nod. "A most appropriate day, indeed."

"Well, we’re done here," Glorfindel said, giving the kitchen and dining room a final look-over. "Why don’t we go to the library and see what’s up? I think Daeron might be convinced to give us a concert."

Finrod nodded. "An excellent idea. Let us hence." And the Elves left the kitchen, turning off the lights as they went and headed for the library.

****

The rest of the week passed slowly for Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen. They dutifully attended the various classes set up for the Valinórean Elves, thereby learning such things as how to handle phones, both cell phones and landlines, and how to use a TV remote and the microwave, as well as being given their first lessons on using a computer. Findalaurë found that he had little aptitude for using the various Mortal technologies and despaired, for Calandil seemed to adapt more easily and even Elennen seemed rather comfortable manipulating the TV remote, channel-surfing, as Elladan called it, with ease. It did not help matters that Nelluin also seemed comfortable with using the various technologies.

"Do not be discouraged," Finrod said to his son when Findalaurë came to him, complaining. "Some of us are better at adapting than others. There is no shame in it. Even among Mortals, there is a wide range of competence, according to Glorfindel. We all have our special talents and abilities. You will get there, my son, never fear."

Findalaurë was not entirely mollified, but decided not to press the issue, determined to succeed in learning as best he could so as not to bring dishonor upon his house, little realizing that being so much younger than many of the other Valinórean Elves, he was adapting more quickly than most.

They saw nothing of Alex or Derek during the first part of the week and studiously stayed away from the Academy, knowing that their presence would not be appreciated. Findalaurë and his gwedyr idled away some of the time going over the tours that had been given to Alex and Derek, coming up with their own plans (Barahir or one of the other Wiseman Elves helping them with information as to where various activities were available), wondering if they would coincide at all with what their two friends would devise. But for the most part, they remained somewhat idle and aloof from everyone else.

"If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were homesick for the Academy," Glorfindel commented to Finrod and Vorondur as the three were sitting in the breakfast nook enjoying a mid-morning cup of coffee. It was Monday and snow was gently falling outside, though the Elves knew that no storm was in the offing. They could see the three younger ellyn out in the back garden, standing still with their heads back, staring at the falling snow. Elennen even had his tongue out, catching snowflakes.

"They’ve been given a taste of life among the Mortals and now they find our society somewhat restrictive," Vorondur offered. "They, more than any of the others, have been exposed to modern living and they would like to learn more about it, which they can’t do holed up here."

"Did you speak with Alex and Derek about letting them tag along while they do their test tours?" Glorfindel asked.

"I spoke with Derek yesterday," Vorondur said. "Alex was not there, having decided he needed some down time and was out hiking with some of the others. Derek was feeling a bit under the weather with a slight cold and was taking it easy. He said he had no objections, but he wasn’t sure about Alex." He frowned slightly.

"What’s the matter?" Glorfindel asked.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing really," Vorondur replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "Just something Derek said."

"And that would be what?" Glorfindel demanded with an edge of impatience in his voice.

Vorondur gave him a brittle smile. "Take a deep breath, Loren, and let it out slowly. You remember our little talk about keeping your anger under control?"

Glorfindel snorted, turning to Finrod. "That’s the trouble with having a resident shrink, he’s always psychoanalyzing us."

"Not always," Vorondur retorted mildly. "Otherwise, you would never be able to afford my fee."

Finrod chuckled at that as Glorfindel rolled his eyes. "So is there something you wish to share with us, or are you going to plead doctor-patient confidentiality?" Glorfindel asked.

Vorondur shrugged. "Derek is not my patient, though Alex is. However, Derek expressed some concern over his gwador. It seems as they have been working out their tours, Derek has gotten the impression at times that it is Artemus and not Alex working on the plan."

"And why would that be significant or even alarm young Derek?" Finrod asked.

Vorondur shrugged. "I do not know and perhaps Derek is only imagining things. There is a certain level of frustration that is inherent with this exam. The students all exhibit odd behavior as they struggle to come up with viable tours. They are nervous and excited and some of them end up being sick to their stomachs. It is a very stressful time for them as they attempt to put all that they have learned into practice. Alex may simply be exhibiting similar signs of stress and it may not mean anything in particular. On the other hand, the fact that Derek seems to be able to differentiate between the two personalities and recognize when Alex is in... um... Artemus-mode, so to speak, tells me that more may be going on with him than we know. I would like to schedule a session with him, but I doubt at the moment he would be willing to comply."

The three sat in silence for a time. Finrod gazed out the back window, watching the three youngsters as they began lobbing snowballs at each other. Vorondur continued sipping his coffee while Glorfindel stared at the table, obviously deep in thought.

"I know he never planned to be an Elf Guide," he finally said, speaking softly. "He continues to play the role of student because he has no other choice at this time and I know he is highly frustrated that he cannot locate Farrell and has not heard from the Agency. I also suspect that the death of the other agent has affected him more than he lets on, perhaps feeling that he may somehow have contributed to her death."

Vorondur nodded. "A logical assumption, given the circumstances. I have tried to convince him that her death may not have had anything to do with what is happening here, but I don’t think he buys it. That email that was sent after the agent’s death seems to suggest that someone at the Agency is playing with him. I just wish we could confirm one way or the other what is going on there."

"Well, they have to submit their plans by noon tomorrow," Glorfindel said. "Perhaps you can convince Alex to speak with you in the afternoon. Tell him that I am concerned about his ability to keep Artemus under control and I want assurance from you that he has a handle on things. I do not wish to place any innocents at risk if he finds he is having trouble keeping the Artemus side of him in hand. I do wish he could integrate the two personalities more."

"It is not an easy process," Vorondur said, "and we’ve only just begun. I will continue monitoring him and if I feel he is a danger to himself or others, I will pull him out of the program and have him admitted to the Renfield Psychiatric Clinic in Fairbanks. I have that authority and I can make it stick. Of course, I can only legally hold him there for forty-eight hours, but that should be time enough to convince him that he does need more help than I can give him here. Hopefully, it will never come to that, but I have already made the arrangements just in case."

"You seriously think you’ll need to do that?" Glorfindel asked in dismay.

Vorondur shrugged. "It’s always wise to prepare for any eventuality, then you aren’t taken quite by surprise when things go pear-shape around you." He flashed them a wicked smile. "Every boy scout knows that."

"Humph," was Glorfindel’s only reply.

The back door opened just then, and a snowball came whizzing through, neatly hitting Glorfindel on the side of the head. There were titters of laughter coming from outside and then another snowball came through, more or less aimed at Finrod, who ducked just in time. He gave the other two a wicked grin. "Methinks we have been called to battle, my friends."

"Methinks thou’rt right," Glorfindel replied, wiping the snow off his hair, and then all three were racing out the door, stooping to gather up some snow as laughter came floating in the air from somewhere deeper in the garden.

****

On Tuesday, Vorondur was on hand when Alex and Derek showed up at the classroom where the students were instructed to hand in their tour plans, handing out information about the day on which a particular student would have his or her tour. The two arrived around ten to hand in their plans. Vorondur greeted them.

"How are you two holding up?" he asked them as he took their plans and placed a check against their names on the list before him.

Derek shrugged. "I’m okay, just a bit nervous. Coming up with a plan was a lot harder than I thought it would be and I’m sure it’s all wrong."

Vorondur smiled. "I have every confidence that your plan is fine. Now, here is your tour date. You’ll be picked up by whichever resort you’ve been assigned to and taken to the Grange Hall at eight o’clock. The tours officially begin at nine, but you may begin whenever your test family arrives. Good luck."

Derek nodded his thanks, taking the piece of paper from Vorondur, though he did not look at it. "And you, Alex?" Vorondur said as he gave Alex a piece of paper with his tour date on it. "How are you doing?"

"I’m fine," Alex said somewhat defensively. "No, really, I am," he added when he noticed Vorondur raising an eyebrow.

"Loren would like you to have another session with me this week before you do your test tour," he said.

"Why?" Alex demanded. "I’m fine and it seems to me I should be the one deciding if I need my head shrunk or not."

"Artemus...."

"Don’t call me that!" Alex nearly shouted and then looked around hastily to make sure others were not about to hear him. As it was, they were the only ones in the room.

Vorondur narrowed his eyes. "I’ll see you this afternoon in my office at three. Derek, you have my permission to hog-tie him and see that he shows up."

"As if he could," Alex sneered and then stared in shock and surprise when Derek hauled off and slapped him soundly on the back of his head, giving him a dark look.

"Don’t think I can’t, gwador," Derek said softly. "You may be James Bond but I’m not exactly helpless and I can take you down anytime I wish. You will be at Ron’s office at three or I will make your life so miserable you will be begging me to kill you before I’m through."

The absolute sincerity of his roommate’s words stunned Alex even more than the slap had and he meekly nodded. "I’ll be there," he said softly to Vorondur.

"Enjoy the rest of the week," the Elf said, "and don’t worry. I know you will both do fine on your test."

The two Mortals left the room and Vorondur sat back, reviewing the conversation and the reactions of the two Men in his mind, then put them aside when several students entered the room, nervously handing him their plans.

****

"So which day do you do your tour?" Derek asked when they were halfway down the hall. Alex had remained silent and for a long moment he did not answer. Derek wondered if he was still angry at him for hitting him. Finally, though, his roommate looked at the slip of paper in his hand. "Uh... next Monday. What about you?"

Derek glanced at the slip of paper in his hand and grimaced. "Saturday. I really don’t think I’m ready for this."

Alex gave him an encouraging smile. "You’re more ready than I am," he admitted. "You actually want to be here, while I... well, you know," he ended lamely and Derek nodded in understanding. "At least you get to do yours early on and get it over with. I have to wait almost a whole week to do mine. I’m going to go insane before that."

Derek gave him a grin. "Nah, you’ll do fine. You have a natural knack for this sort of thing, I think. Must be all those years planning out your assignments and all. It’s become second nature for you."

"Maybe, but I’m still going to be without fingernails by the time I get to do my tour," Alex insisted. "Look, I’m sorry about before. I don’t know what’s come over me lately. Ron is right. I do need at least another session with him. I can understand Loren’s worry over me."

"You’re just nervous, like the rest of us," Derek offered. "This is new territory for you, too, don’t forget and this assignment is nothing like you’re used to from what you’ve told me."

"Yeah, you’re right. Hey, as long as we have the next few days free, why don’t we plan to get away from here for awhile?"

"What do you mean?" Derek asked.

"I mean, we’ll hop in my car tomorrow after breakfast and head for Fairbanks for a few days. We can check on Della and the others who are with her, see how they’re doing. We’ll hit the museums and the like, take our minds off things for a time. We can be back on Friday. That’ll give you time to get ready for your tour."

"That sounds good to me," Derek said. "I suggest you mention it to Ron when you see him this afternoon, make sure it’s okay." When Alex started to protest he held up his hand. "You’re technically Ron’s patient. I think it wise for him to know and make sure it’s okay, that’s all."

"I guess you’re right," Alex conceded. "I’ll tell him, I promise. Now, let’s check the internet and see what sort of things we can do when we’re in Fairbanks."

"Sounds like a plan," Derek said in agreement and the two made their way back to their room to plan their little excursion.

****

Alex arrived at Vorondur’s office at three, looking somewhat sheepish. "Sorry about earlier," he said without preamble as he sat in the chair in front of the desk. "I’d like to say it’s just nerves, but I doubt you would agree."

"In that you would be correct, to some extent," Vorondur said with a nod, "however, I suspect nerves are playing a large part of it. Derek, when I saw him on Sunday, voiced some concern about you, saying that it seemed that it was Artemus and not Alex planning the tour."

Alex looked up in surprise, then became somewhat thoughtful, before he gave the Elf a shy smile. "I suppose he was right."

"Would you like to explain?" Vorondur asked.

Alex shrugged. "I think I was treating the tour almost like a campaign, formulating tactics in getting from one location to another, maybe even pretending I was being pursued by Farrell or some enemy agent and needing to reach a particular spot to be safe."

"Santa’s Grotto," Vorondur offered and Alex nodded, now looking embarrassed.

"Stupid, I know, but I doubt Alex would’ve done half as well in planning the tour."

"Well, we’ll never know, will we, since you allowed Artemus full scope," Vorondur said.

"Is that a bad thing?" Alex asked, looking both puzzled and defensive at the same time. "You keep harping on about how Artemus has skills and knowledge that are essential and that I shouldn’t dismiss them or ignore them. Is it a bad thing that Artemus the spy planned the tour and not Alex the clueless student?"

"Is that how you see yourself?" Vorondur asked. "Clueless?"

Alex shrugged. "Sometimes. Let’s face it. Alex is nothing. He’s not even real. His entire history is made up, though I’ve borrowed from my own life here or there. In the end, he’s just a construct, one of many and believe me I could’ve chosen from a dozen other personae for this job; he just happened to be the first I thought of when I needed to sign the admission papers for the Academy. I may not like Artemus all that much, but he at least is a real person with a real history that can be traced back several centuries actually."

"Yet, you have stated that you don’t want to be Artemus any longer, that you prefer to be Alex."

"Yeah, and on one level that’s true, but it’s only true to the extent that I am able to divorce myself from the Agency and everything that has gone before. Trust me, no matter what name I give myself, my mom will always call me Artemus." He gave the Elf a sour look.

Vorondur hid a smile. "Mothers are like that, I’m afraid. Assuming you can retire from the Agency and take up a different profession, what do you think you would be doing?"

"Well, not playing being an Elf, that’s for sure," Alex retorted with a snort.

At Vorondur’s raised eyebrow, he relented somewhat. "Look, I have no objections about being an Elf Guide, but ultimately, I can’t see myself doing it for the rest of my life. That would just be a waste of talent. I can’t even see Derek doing it forever. He has other skills and talents that should be utilized to their fullest. He didn’t spend six years in the Navy doing nothing."

"I agree, but let’s keep Derek or anyone else out of this discussion," Vorondur said. "Derek will find his own way in his own time. Right now, he’s willing to be an Elf Guide for the season. Beyond that, well, that will be up to him. Let us concentrate on you. I know you are reluctant to take up this role of Elf Guide even for the test tour, never mind for the entire holiday season. Yet, I know you will do what you need to in that regard. I have no problems with that. What concerns me is your attitude towards yourself, your ambivalent feelings about who you are and what your role ultimately may be. Loren is concerned that in a critical moment, the Artemus part of you may emerge and innocents may be harmed."

"I have never caused harm to any innocent," Alex protested. "I pride myself on keeping collateral damage to the absolute minimum. Oh, yeah, sure, there’ve been casualties now and then, I don’t deny it, but it was usually because the person inadvertently got in the way. Luckily, though, I’ve never been responsible for any deaths in that regard."

"And I applaud you," Vorondur said. "Yet the question remains: can you control Artemus?"

Now Alex looked doubtful. "Under most circumstances I would say yes, but... Farrell and the other agents are still out there somewhere. I sincerely hope he doesn’t attempt anything when I’m in the middle of doing the tour. I wouldn’t put it past him to try, thinking me off guard. I certainly can’t go around armed. Not with children around."

"That wouldn’t stop Farrell, though, would it?"

"Who knows? I’ve given up trying to figure the man out. He’s gone way beyond accepted parameters for agents in the field. He’s a loose cannon and I have no way to stop him unless he makes the first move."

"Do you want to go armed?"

"God, wouldn’t I just," Alex replied sincerely. "But it’s not an option, least wise, not for me."

"Not even if in being armed you may be ensuring the safety of the others with you on your tour?"

"Do you really think I should?" Alex demanded. "I would think that would be the last thing you would want."

"I admit the idea of anyone being armed in those circumstances makes my blood run cold, but the alternative doesn’t bear thinking on. Farrell may do nothing, but while Alex may be reluctant to take the responsibility of being armed, Artemus would be foolish not to be."

"You keep insisting that I have to integrate the two in order to become whole, but it sounds as if your trying to keep the two personalities separate."

"No, but you as Alex have to accept that you as Artemus may need to do things that Alex finds distasteful but Artemus considers just good common sense under the circumstances. The fact that you planned out your tour as if you were planning an escape from enemy agents tells me that Artemus sees the value of good planning even if Alex does not. I assume, as per the instructions for the test tour, you provided alternative activities for your family and therefore planned alternative routes to get you to where you need to go?"

"Yeah, sure," Alex replied with a shrug. "And so?"

"Sometime before you actually do the tour, sit down with your copy of your plan and look at it with Artemus’ eyes, rather than with Alex’s. I would be curious to know what conclusions you come up with. You can tell me at our next session."

"Derek and I were thinking of taking a few days off and going to Fairbanks before we do our test tours. I thought we could check in on Della and the others and see how they were doing."

Vorondur did not say anything for a moment, as if thinking over Alex’s words. Finally, he nodded. "I think it is an excellent idea. When were you planning to leave? It’s probably too late to do so today."

"We’re planning on leaving directly after breakfast tomorrow and should be back by dinner time on Friday. That’ll give Derek time to prepare for his tour which is on Saturday. I don’t get to do mine until Monday and the very thought of having to wait almost a whole week is already driving me crazy."

Vorondur smiled. "Then a few days in Fairbanks should help take your mind off things. Perhaps we can get together for a short time after dinner on Friday. I imagine that when Derek is out doing his tour on Saturday you’ll be wanting to spend most of the day at the Grange Hall waiting for his return."

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I imagine that’s what I’ll be doing."

"Then, enjoy your time in Fairbanks. Give Della and the others my good wishes. I’ll see you when you get back but do me a favor. Take a look at your plan before you go or better, take it with you and look at it when you’re sitting in your hotel room. Perhaps examining it in a completely different environment will help you to see it better."

"Okay, I’ll do that, though I’m not sure what you’re getting at."

"When we meet again on Friday, we can discuss it. Now, I’m sure you have things you need to do before you leave so off you go. Have a safe trip."

"Thanks," Alex said as he stood up. "And thanks for everything else. I can’t believe how screwed up I am. We have to sit with a company shrink every year, but honestly, I’ve learned how to say the right things to keep them off my back so I can do what I do best. I think you’re the first person I’ve ever really come clean with."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"I have no idea," Alex admitted honestly, "but I think for the first time in my life I am actually looking at myself honestly and not covering up just for the sake of my job."

"Then you are making a good start. If you can keep being honest with yourself, that will go a long way towards helping you to heal the conflicts within you. Now, off you go and don’t forget to bring back a souvenir."

Alex grinned and left the room. Vorondur sat for some time mulling over what had been said, and more importantly, what had not been said between them. He gazed out his window in deep thought, not really seeing the view. Then, after several minutes of contemplation, he reached for his phone and speed dialed a certain number.

"Alex and Derek are going to Fairbanks for a few days," He said without preamble. "I’ve given him my permission. We’ll talk again when they get back on Friday." He paused to listen. "Yes, I know it’s a risk, but I think it’s worth it. Alex is wound tighter than he realizes and he’s on the verge of exploding. A few days away from all this may be just what he needs to unwind.... By all means, contact Della and let her know. Alex said he and Derek would look in on her and see how she’s doing....I have no idea where they are staying. I didn’t think to ask.... Yes, I can certainly find out. That’s not a problem. What concerns me is why you need to know.... Are you insane? What if they find out?.... Fine. I’ll let you know as soon as I can." He closed down the phone and uttered a few choice curses in more than one language as he made his way out of his office, heading towards the third floor dorms, mentally formulating the excuse he would offer Alex and Derek as to why he wanted to know where they would be staying in Fairbanks.

70: Meanwhile, Back at Elf Academy....

Alex and Derek returned from Fairbanks later than they had expected and were pleasantly surprised to find that the cafeteria was still open even though it was after eight. When they asked, they learned from one of the staff that, during the test period, the cafeteria would remain open until nine to accommodate those students whose tours went late, since everyone was assigned a particular time to bring their families to Santa’s grotto. Derek, for instance, was scheduled to bring his family to see Santa during the four o’clock hour while Alex wasn’t scheduled until six.

"I promised Ron I would check in with him after dinner," Alex said to Derek as they settled at one of the tables where some of their friends were congregated, listening to a couple of the students speak about their tours which they had conducted that day. Derek was more interested in listening to them than in answering Alex, but he gave his roommate a considering look.

"It’s pretty late. Do you think he’s still here?" he asked.

Alex shrugged. "Only way to find out. I’m going to eat up and head over to his office. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?"

Derek nodded, his attention already drifting back to George Calhoun giving a description of his tour. Alex wolfed down his spaghetti and meatballs and wrapped the chocolate chip cookies in a napkin to take with him and left, heading to where the administrative offices were, half convinced that the Elf had given up on him and had gone home. So, he was surprised to see a light under Vorondur’s door. Giving it a knock, he opened it to see the ellon sitting at his desk, working on his computer. Vorondur looked up and gave him a smile.

"Sorry," Alex said as he closed the door and took a seat. "We ran into some weather on the way back and it slowed us down. I wasn’t even sure you would still be here. I left Derek at the cafeteria."

"Did you get anything to eat?"

"I scarfed down some spaghetti. I’m not all that hungry. At one point we actually had to pull over and wait for the white-out to pass so we whiled away the time snacking."

Vorondur nodded, leaning back in his chair. "So, how was Fairbanks?"

"It was great. Went to a couple of museums, discovered a couple of nice restaurants and generally just relaxed. Oh, and we saw Della and the others. They’re doing fine." He paused and shifted uneasily in his chair.

"What?" Vorondur asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, nothing really and it may have just been because I’m naturally paranoid but...."

"Go on."

"Well, and I know this will sound crazy, but the whole time we were in Fairbanks, I could’ve sworn we were being followed, yet, I never caught sight of a tail, and believe me, I know all the tricks. If there was a tail, I should’ve been able to spot him, but I never could. Derek didn’t sense anything when I asked so I just made a joke about letting the stress get to me and dropped it, but the feeling never left, not until we were at least ten miles north of the city coming back here."

"Amroth told us about the tracer on your car," Vorondur said. "Could there have been another one?"

Alex shook his head. "I double-checked the car from top to bottom before we set out. It was clean. Do you think someone found out about us going to Fairbanks and decided to keep us, or rather, me under surveillance? That presupposes that somehow our plans were leaked to certain people, but we told no one."

"I have no answers for you, of course," Vorondur said carefully. "Do you sense that you are being watched now that you’re back?"

"No, I don’t, and I’ve been pretty vigilant. As I said, the feeling left me as we picked up the James Dalton Highway and headed north." He shrugged again. "Probably my over-stimulated imagination."

"Perhaps, but I wouldn’t dismiss it too cavalierly. In the meantime, did you have a chance to look over your tour plan while you were away?"

"Oh yeah," Alex said with a grimace. "Derek brought his as well, and kept insisting it was all wrong and how he wished he could change it. I finally took the damn paper away from him and told him it was perfect and not to sweat it." He gave Vorondur a grin which the Elf returned. "Anyway, I looked mine over and I see what you mean. Alex never created that plan; that was purely Artemus. I still don’t know if it was a good thing or not."

"I’ve looked over the plan as well," Vorondur said, "along with all the others as I’m on the committee that checks to make sure every student’s plan is doable. Your plan is both militarily precise and highly flexible at the same time. I suspect that you have had to execute certain plans in your life that needed exact precision to carry out, yet also required enough flexibility to allow for, shall we say, the unexpected."

Alex nodded. "Yes, that’s correct. But, you know, as much as I wasn’t really looking forward to playing a Christmas Elf, I wished it had been Alex who had designed the tour instead of Artemus."

"What would you change if you could?" Vorondur asked. "What would Alex have done differently?"

"That’s just it," Alex griped in frustration. "The tour as planned is picture perfect, or just about. Alex could never have improved on it. It allows for the vagaries of weather as well as unexpected time gains or losses. I wouldn’t know where to change it without ruining it."

"Then here is an example of where Artemus is able to contribute positively to your environment and circumstances. You, Alex, allowed Artemus to use his skills and knowledge to create the near perfect tour. It was unconscious on your part, that’s true, but now that you see how it works, you may be able to draw upon Artemus on a more conscious level the next time."

"I guess," Alex admitted reluctantly.

"You fear Artemus," Vorondur stated, "and that is something you should not do. Artemus is not to be feared; he’s too important to your continued survival. You need to befriend him and welcome him without letting the darker aspects of that personality take control as it did at the bar last week. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

Alex nodded after a moment of reflection. "I think so. It’s not going to be easy, though."

"Nothing worth doing is ever easy," Vorondur said. "Now, I think you should go find Derek and offer him moral support. He’s probably a nervous wreck by now."

Alex grinned. "I hope he can get some sleep or he’s not going to be any good to anyone tomorrow."

"Oh, don’t worry about that," Vorondur replied with a knowing smile. "We have that covered."

But what exactly he meant by that he refused to say and Alex bade him a good night and went back to his room where he found Derek pacing.

"Hey, you should try to get an early night," Alex said as he closed the door. "It was a long drive back and I know I’m tired."

"I don’t think I can sleep," Derek said. "I already feel sick to my stomach."

"Yeah, I can appreciate that," Alex said. "But I really think you should try. Did you ever learn how to meditate?"

"Not really."

"Well, I know a couple of techniques involving deep breathing. Why don’t we get ourselves ready for bed and I’ll show you them?"

"Sure. How did it go with Ron?"

"Okay. I think I’m beginning to get a handle on things."

Fifteen minutes later, with the lights out, Alex talked Derek through the breathing exercises, speaking softly, doing the exercises as well. And as they lay there, breathing in and out, they heard someone singing somewhere down the hall. The words were indistinct, but the melody was clear and between the song, which sounded somewhat like a lullaby, and the deep breathing exercises, both men fell asleep within minutes.

****

Alex woke around six. It was still dark out and he was tempted to roll over and go back to sleep for an hour or so, but then recalled that today was Derek’s test day, so he climbed out of bed and padded over to his still sleeping roommate, giving him a shake.

"Rise and shine, Celepharn," calling him by his Elvish name. "Time for your tour."

Derek jerked awake, took a quick look at his clock to see the time and then scrambled out of bed.

"Hey, slow down," Alex said with a grin. "It’s early yet, but I know they’re opening the cafeteria early, so once you’ve gotten dressed you should get something to eat."

"I’m way too nervous to eat anything," Derek replied as he struggled into his robe and grabbed his toiletry bag and a towel.

"Still, you should try to have something or you’ll be fainting long before lunch and that won’t do," Alex said as he grabbed his own shower paraphernalia and the two headed out the door and down the hall. "At least try some toast."

Derek nodded and then they were in the bathroom being greeted by a couple of other students who were also taking their tours that day.

Once dressed they made their way to the cafeteria, which was eerily quiet in spite of the fact that there were a large number of students all sporting the distinctive winter wear that was the uniform of the Elf Guides. Alex encouraged Derek to take some toast and juice and some coffee while he piled his plate with waffles and home fries. As they looked around for a place to sit, they spied Findalaurë and the other two ellyn and went to sit with them.

"Hi. So you’re back," Alex said.

The three ellyn greeted them gravely. "We were told that you were allowing us to join you on your tours," Findalaurë said.

"It’s going to be pretty crowded with all three of you, though," Derek said.

"Yes. Lord Glorfindel pointed that out to us," Calandil answered. "So, we drew lots. Elennen and I will come with you, as you do not have as large a family as Alex has and Finda will go with Alex. That is, if it is still all right with you."

Derek shrugged. "Sure. I don’t have any objections. Let’s hope whoever is grading us does not."

"Lord Glorfindel already has spoken to these people to let them know," Findalaurë said and the matter was dropped. Derek played with his toast, constantly looking up at the wall clock, until Alex leaned over and said, "Relax. Remember those deep breathing exercises I showed you last night? They do wonders in keeping you calm so try one of them now. You’re going to be fine. Your plan is a good one and the family will have a good time."

Derek nodded and attempted one of the breathing exercises Alex had shown him and after a couple of minutes he did appear less nervous and was able to finish his breakfast. Then it was time to head downstairs and Alex and the three ellyn followed him. They found Cennanion, Ercassë, Elladan and Elrohir there with clipboards. Each was standing under a poster with a spread of letters and everyone was lining up appropriately. Derek lined up in front of the poster that said ‘G-L’ and Alex and the Elves joined him. When they got to the front of the line Elladan gave him a smile of encouragement.

"Let’s see. You’re with Rainbow Lake Holiday Resort today, Derek," he said as he consulted his clipboard, putting a check against Derek’s name. "That’s the van over there to your left." He pointed to the outside where a number of different vans belonging to the various resorts were lined up waiting to take the students to the Grange Hall. "Good luck and don’t forget to have fun. Calandil, Elennen, try to keep out of trouble."

The two younger ellyn rolled their eyes even as they all followed Derek outside. They found the van easily enough and as they approached the side door opened and a young woman greeted them. "Good morning. I’m Rebecca. You’re Derek, right?"

"Yes, ma’am," Derek replied, "and this is Cal and Alan. They’ll be following us around. I was told it was okay."

"Yeah, well hop in and we’ll get going. Your tour ends during the four o’clock hour, so we’ll be back at the Grange Hall probably no later than five-thirty."

"Good luck," Alex said in Sindarin as Derek started climbing into the van. "I know you will do well."

Findalaurë said something in Quenya which sounded like a blessing and Derek just nodded his thanks. The other two Elves also climbed in and then the door closed and the van set off. Alex and Findalaurë stood there for a long moment and then Alex started shivering, for he had not bothered with a coat. "Let’s go back inside before I freeze," he said. Inside, the last of the students were being directed to their vans and then the foyer was emptying out as roommates and friends of those doing their tours wandered off. Alex made his way to where the older Elves were standing.

"Well, they’re away," he said somewhat unnecessarily. "Now the hard part begins."

All four Elves nodded while Findalaurë gave them a puzzled look. Alex noticed and grinned. "Waiting. It’s the worst part of any campaign. So, how do you want to while away the time until we go to the Grange Hall and welcome Derek and your gwedyr back from the tour?"

Findalaurë raised an eyebrow and then realizing that Alex was being sincere, gave him a shy look. "I wonder if you would help me with throwing people. I cannot seem to do it properly."

Alex smiled. "Sure. Let me grab my coat and we’ll go over to the gym and I’ll show you all the moves." He couldn’t help noticing the looks of approval on the faces of the older Elves but decided not to comment as he left them. Five minutes later he was back down and he and Findalaurë bade the others goodbye and headed outside.

****

The self-defense lesson lasted only for a couple of hours and by the end of it even Findalaurë looked washed out, for Alex had not given him any quarter, insisting that it was the only way he was going to learn how to handle himself. "And if you think I’m being hard on you, you should have Amroth spar with you," he said at one point when Findalaurë was protesting Alex’s treatment of him. Still, by the time they called it quits, the ellon appeared more confident about his techniques and Alex praised him for his efforts, saying that with time, he should be quite the expert.

They returned to the Academy and had lunch, joining those who were also waiting for their friends to finish their tours. Afterwards, Findalaurë stated he would return to Edhellond for a time and would meet Alex at the Grange Hall. Alex, for his part, decided to take a nap after emailing his mom. There was still no word from Maddie Washburn or anyone else for that matter and that worried him, but as there was nothing he could really do about it, he let it go.

After his nap, he ended up reading until it was nearly five o’clock, at which time he headed out for the Grange Hall. It was already full dark by now and with the temperatures dropping the roads proved to be a bit slick, so he had to drive carefully. He reached the Grange Hall around five-fifteen to find the parking lot nearly full. A couple of resort vans were already there but not Derek’s van, so he found a parking space and wandered into the hall where he found it full of people milling about. There was a table at one end near the stage where he spied Amroth and Vorondur sitting and several students, all sporting Elf Guide outfits, standing before them, obviously checking in. He looked for Findalaurë, but did not see him so he wandered around a bit and chatted with one or two of his friends from the Academy who were also there to greet the returning tour guides.

Ten minutes later, he spied Derek and the two ellyn coming in along with four people, two of them children, so he assumed they were Derek’s test family. Derek was shaking their hands and the two Elves gave them bows as they parted company. Alex wended his way through the crowd to intercept them as the three headed for the table to check in.

"So, how did it go?" he asked, putting out his hand for Derek to shake.

"Better than I thought," Derek replied with a relieved look as he removed his hat and undid his coat, for the hall was becoming overly warm. "The kids were great and they seemed to have a good time. You really should’ve planned your tour to include the ice maze. That was wicked cool."

Alex grinned. "I’ll keep it in mind for next time." He turned to Calandil and Elennen. "And how did you fare?"

"Where’s Finda?" Calandil asked, looking around.

"He said he would meet us here," Alex said, "but I haven’t seen him. Maybe something came up at Edhellond. I’m sure we’ll see him soon. Anyway, what did you think?"

"It was quite interesting," Elennen answered. "I got to hold the reins when we were at the reindeer farm," he said proudly. "They are amazing creatures."

"Yes, they are," Alex returned with a smile. "Well, I’m glad you all had a good time. Let’s get you checked in and then I’ll drive you back to the Academy and you can tell me all about it over dinner."

"Good, because I’m starved," Derek said as he moved up the line and found himself facing Vorondur who gave him a nod.

"Everything go all right?" the Elf said as he looked down the list in front of him, making a check against Derek’s name.

"Yeah, it went well," Derek replied. "Rebecca, she’s from the resort, said I did a real good job in planning the tour and the family seemed happy with it."

"Good. And now you can relax and it’s your turn to hold Alex’s hands." He gave them all a wide grin and a wink and they laughed, bidding him and Amroth a goodnight.

"You know where Lawrence is?" Alex asked just before they left. "He said he would meet us here."

"Sorry, we’ve been here all afternoon coordinating the tours," Amroth answered. "If he shows up I’ll drive him over to the Academy. Ron can handle things here."

Alex nodded and then they left. When they got into the car, Derek breathed a large sigh of relief. "Lord, I’m so glad that’s over."

"Still want to be a Christmas Elf?" Alex asked, giving him a sly look.

Derek nodded. "Yeah, I do. Once I stopped being nervous, I really enjoyed myself."

"I’m glad," Alex said as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

****

Findalaurë did not show up all the time they were eating. Calandil and Elennen expressed concern, so after dinner, Alex called Edhellond and spoke with Barahir who answered. The Elf assured him that Findalaurë was fine.

"Something came up and Finrod asked him to stay with him," Barahir said. "Nothing serious, just a family matter." But as he refused to elaborate, Alex had to be content with the rather vague explanation.

"I’ll drive Cal and Alan over then. They’re really worried about their gwador."

"Wait a moment," Barahir said and Alex could hear him speaking to someone else, then he was back on the line. "Dan and Roy are still at the Academy, setting things up for tomorrow’s tours. They can give them a ride back when they’re ready to leave."

"Okay. We’ll go find them. Thanks." Then he closed down his phone and told the others what Barahir had told him and they went in search of the Twins.

****

Sunday morning, as Alex and Derek were enjoying a late breakfast, Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen showed up, all of them sporting wide grins. They didn’t bother to get into the cafeteria line, stating that they’d already broken their fast.

"You three look like the cat who swallowed the canary," Alex said as he took a sip of his coffee. "What’s up?"

"It is why I did not join you at the Grange Hall last night," Findalaurë said.

Alex nodded. "Barry said there was a family matter that required your attention."

All three ellyn started snickering, as if enjoying a joke. Alex and Derek exchanged amused looks. "Care to let us in on the joke?" Derek asked.

"It is Nell," Findalaurë said. "My father decided to punish her by having her watch over the children of Nicole Lord while she and her... um... betrothed went away." All three ellyn had disapproving looks on their faces and Alex realized that they must come from a more restrictive society where lovers did not just go off on their own without a proper chaperone.

"Punishment, huh?" Derek asked. "Seems a strange way to punish someone, and I wonder who ended up being punished, Nell or the kids?"

"Oh, Nell, definitely," Findalaurë replied with a grin. "It seems that all was going well until yesterday afternoon. I still do not know what caused her to panic, but around the time I would have gone to the Grange Hall she called, sounding frantic. I was in the kitchen with my atar and Lord Glorfindel and some others, helping with dinner, though I planned to eat with you, when the phone rang. Lord Glorfindel answered it and had to hold the phone away from his ear for my cousin was practically screaming. He told her to calm down and then we all heard several voices in the background screaming and then... then Nell yelled, asking what was wrong and... and we heard someone yell back, ‘Adam got stabbed with a sword and he’s dead.’"

He paused and it was obvious that he was trying to hold back his laughter while his two friends were also trying not to laugh.

"Getting killed by a sword isn’t exactly a laughing matter," Derek said with a wry look.

"No, no. You do not understand," Findalaurë said. "When we all heard those words, Lord Glorfindel started cursing in Quenya and shouted into the phone, stating that he was on his way. Then he was calling for Lords Vardamir and Laurendil and the Lady Manwen and we all ran to his van and I never saw Lord Glorfindel drive so fast and looking so white. We came to the house and we ran to the front door and Lord Glorfindel was pounding on it, shouting Nell’s name and then the door opened and...."

He suffered another bout of giggles and it took him a couple of minutes to calm down long enough to continue his narrative, all the while, Alex and Derek and a few others who were nearby listening, looked on with various expressions of bemusement.

"It was Nell, but it was not," Findalaurë finally said. "Her hair was...." and lacking the words to describe it, he mimed hair standing on end. "And her face was strangely painted so that it made her look horrid. I think Lord Glorfindel called it makeup."

Both Derek and Alex nodded. "So I take it that she looked a fright with her hair standing on end and the makeup?" Alex asked and Findalaurë nodded. "So what happened next?"

"We all ran into the house with Lord Glorfindel shouting the children’s names and when we found them in the main gathering room...."

"It’s called a living room," Derek supplied and Findalaurë nodded his thanks.

"Living room. Yes. There were the children and Adam was very much alive. Lord Glorfindel stood there and said, ‘Why are you not dead?’ All of the children looked at him in surprise and then Adam seemed to understand what Lord Glorfindel was asking and gave everyone a disgusted look and said, "Video Game. Prince of Persia? This is the fifth time I’ve died and now I have to start all over again.’"

By now both Alex and Derek were laughing. "Are you kidding?" Alex said. "She got all upset over a video game?"

"Apparently," Findalaurë replied. "She thought it was very violent and could not understand how Mistress Lord could allow her son to play it."

"So what did Loren do?" Derek asked.

"He gave a great sigh and for a long moment stood there with his eyes closed," Findalaurë said. He gave them a sly grin. "Methinks he was counting to twelve in several different languages."

Everyone laughed at that. "And Nell?" Alex asked. "What about Nell?"

"Oh, this is the best part," Findalaurë assured them. "When everyone calmed down, my atar decided that Nell should return to Edhellond while Lord Laurendil and Lady Manwen remained, but before we left he suggested that Nell remove the paint from her face for it did not become her. She gave us a puzzled look and then Lady Manwen took her by the hand and led her over to a mirror hanging near the front door. Nell took one look at herself and started screaming."

He paused again and started laughing. "I think she was heard all the way to Edhellond because suddenly there were several dogs barking and these strange noises coming from nearby houses that Lord Glorfindel said were car alarms."

Alex was laughing so hard by now that tears were falling. "Oh my, I can just see it. Poor Nell."

"It took Lady Manwen and my atar several minutes to calm her down and then Lady Manwen took her to the bathroom to wash everything off while Lord Glorfindel spoke to the children. When we finally left, Nell was still crying from shame." He gave them a pained look. "I have never seen her cry before. It was most upsetting."

"I can imagine," Alex said sympathetically.

"My atar had some difficulty in calming her, assuring her that all was well and that she had no reason to feel ashamed. I do not think she believed him, for when we returned to Edhellond, she went to her room and refused to come out even for dinner." He sighed. "She still will not speak with anyone."

"It’ll take her time to get over it," Derek said. "Once she’s had some time to think about it, she might even see the humor of it all. Give her space and don’t tease her."

"That is what Atar and Lord Glorfindel said," Findalaurë said with a nod.

"Well, I suppose all’s well that end’s well," Alex said. "So, what do you guys want to do today?"

Derek shrugged. "You don’t seem too nervous about tomorrow," he said, giving Alex a shrewd look. "Not like me."

"Trust me, I’m as nervous about tomorrow as you were about your own tour, but I’ve learned to sublimate my nerves and keep a clear head. It’s vital to be able to do that when you’re out in the field. So, let’s think of something to do to keep my mind off tomorrow."

"We could go hiking or something," Derek offered. "Maybe we can get a box lunch and spend the day in the great outdoors. It’s not that cold out today."

"What about you three?" Alex asked. "You game?"

They all nodded and in minutes, after consulting with Grace, who assured them that she would have a box lunch ready for them within the hour, they left the cafeteria and went to get ready. Calandil suggested they return to the valley with the waterfall even though it was a couple hours drive, and they all agreed, so by ten o’clock they were on their way.

71: Monday

The next morning, Alex woke to darkness and lay there, staring at the ceiling, reviewing his tour for the day, mentally going down a list, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He heard Derek stir and closed his eyes, deciding to let his roommate ‘wake’ him, which he did. Opening his eyes he saw Derek grinning at him.

"Time to hustle," he said. "The day’s awasting."

Alex just nodded and climbed out of bed, joining Derek as he headed for the showers. After dressing, they made their way to the cafeteria, joining the line where they found the three ellyn already there. Alex, much to the surprise of the others had a full breakfast, rather than the toast and juice that most of the others who were testing that day were managing. He gave them a wry look.

"Rule number one when in the field: never pass up a good meal, as it may be your last," he said as he ate his oatmeal. "And while I don’t anticipate dying during this tour, I do want to not be fainting from nerves and lack of food. I bet you were starving long before lunch," he added, giving Derek a shrewd look. Derek nodded but did not otherwise comment.

When they joined the other students in the foyer, they found Vorondur there, standing under the ‘G-L’ sign. He gave them all a warm smile. "So, here is the day at last. Alex, you’re with the Northern Lights Holiday Resort." He looked out the main doors and frowned. "Hmm... the van should be out there by now... oh, there it is." He pointed and they saw a van with the resort logo painted on it just coming into the drive. "Good luck and have fun," he added and the five of them headed out the door and made their way to the van.

"How about Cal and Alan and I going with you as far as the hall?" Derek said. "We can do some shopping, have some lunch and take in a movie or something while we wait for your return."

Alex shrugged. "Fine by me."

As they reached the van, the side door opened and a man greeted them. "All set?" he asked.

"Yeah... um... my friends are going with us," Alex said as he climbed into the van.

The man gave him a dubious look. "It’s going to be pretty crowded."

"Oh, Cal, Alan and I are only going as far as the Grange Hall," Derek assured him. "Lawrence will be joining Alex on the tour. We were told it was okay."

The man nodded somewhat reluctantly, stealing a glance at the driver who shrugged. "Okay, hop in," he finally said and soon they were all settled and the van set off.

Neither Alex nor Derek really paid much attention to their route. Derek was frowning somewhat, feeling something wasn’t quite right, for at no time did the man sitting with them ever introduce himself or talk about the upcoming tour. He recalled how Rebecca had gone over the tour with him as they had headed for the hall to pick up their family, so he was somewhat upset that this man was not doing the same for his gwador.

Alex, for his part, was still concentrating on the tour plan, rehearsing his lines for when he met with the family, and not knowing any differently, did not find it odd that the man from the resort did not speak with him.

It was Calandil, though, that alerted the two Mortals that something was amiss when he exclaimed, "We are not going to the Grange Hall."

Alex looked up in surprise and took a quick look out the side window and realized that the Elf was correct. He saw that they had passed the intersection with Orion and they should have turned right at that point but, instead, their van was continuing straight on Aurora.

"Hey! We’re going the wrong way," he cried out, turning around to face the man from the resort, then raising an eyebrow in surprise as he found a gun pointed at him.

"No, Mr. Merriweather, we are not," the man said calmly. "And please, don’t do anything stupid, any of you. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

Derek sat there in shock at the sight of the gun and, glancing at the three Elves, he saw that they were equally shocked. Findalaurë even had his eyes closed and then the other two also closed their eyes. Derek assumed that they found the sight of the gun too distasteful to look at. He glanced at Alex and saw his gwador giving him a small shake of his head as he leaned back in his seat, looking very calm about it all, as if being held at gunpoint was nothing new for him — and it probably wasn’t, he reflected sourly. Yet, while the van continued on its way, Derek had the distinct impression that he was no longer looking at Alex, at his gwador, but at Artemus, and oddly enough, that comforted him somewhat and he, too, leaned back in his seat, attempting to appear calm as well, though he was anything but.

****

Glorfindel looked around the Grange Hall. There were still a number of people there, but they were actually friends of the students and families who were going on the tours that day; all the tour groups had come and gone. Then, he spied a family of five, the three children quite young, standing rather forlornly, looking about. He went to them.

"Were you supposed to go on a tour today?" he asked, looking at the children’s father. "I’m Loren DelaFiore, the head administrator for Elf Academy." He held out his hand for the man to shake.

"Jim Palmer," the man said by way of introduction. "My wife, Kelly, and our kids, Shelly, Gavin and Lucy. Yeah, we’re scheduled for the tour today, but no one’s come to claim us."

"Let me check and see who your Elf Guide is," Glorfindel said and wandered over to where Barahir and Gilvegil were sitting, going over the list of students to make sure they had gotten them all. They looked up as Glorfindel approached them. "The Palmer family. Who is supposed to be their Elf Guide?"

The two ellyn glanced over their list. "Palmer... Palmer," Barahir muttered. "Here they are. Hmmm... according to this, Alex Grant is their Elf Guide, but he never checked in. One of the other students, Rachel Johnson, also has not checked in."

"Wait. I thought I saw a note about Rachel," Gilvegil said, rifling through some papers, pulling one of them out. "Yes, here it is. This is a note from Holly. Rachel called in last night, saying she was running a fever and feared she might be coming down with something, so she asked if she could switch with her roommate who’s doing her tour after Thanksgiving. Holly gave her permission, so Debby Callahan has taken her place."

"To which resort was Alex assigned?" Glorfindel asked.

Barahir looked at his list again. "Northern Lights."

Glorfindel nodded even as he was fishing out his phone. In seconds he was speaking to Vorondur. "Alex never showed up here," he said. "Did you see him?" He listened for a moment, his expression becoming grim. "Okay. Do me a favor and contact Dave Michaelson, see if there’s been an accident involving a Northern Lights Resort van. I haven’t heard any sirens but that might not mean anything. I’m going to contact Marty and see what’s up there."

Even as he was saying this, though, Barahir was already on his own phone, speaking with the owner of the resort. "That’s right, Marty, we know the van arrived at the Academy and picked up the student but they never arrived here." He listened for a few seconds, then his eyes widened. "You sure about that? Are they okay?.... Yes, I’ll tell him.... Thanks, Marty. We’ll keep you informed." He closed down his phone and gave them a grave look. "Marty says one of the other employees was in the garage checking over the vans, making sure they were in good running condition, when he heard banging. When he went to investigate, he discovered two people shoved into a storage room, bound and gagged. They were the driver and the tour assessor who’d been assigned to Alex’s tour."

Now Glorfindel paled. "Farrell," he hissed and the other two didn’t contradict him. "And Ron says that Derek and the three amigos went with Alex. Finda was planning to go with Alex on the tour but the other three were planning to stop here."

Before the other two could comment they heard the plaintive voice of one of the Palmer children.

"Mommy, are we gonna see Santa? I wanna see Santa."

Glorfindel glanced over at the family to see the mother hushing the child, the youngest, who looked to be about five. He waved them over. "We think something may have happened to the van," he said softly. "We are checking to see if there’s been an accident. I fear you will not be able to do the tour today, but I promise we will reschedule you once we’ve learned what has happened to our student."

"Oh dear," Kelly said, giving him a sympathetic look. "I do hope no one has been hurt."

Glorfindel silently prayed the same, struggling to remain calm and assured. "I know this is a disappointment for you, especially for your children."

"Hey, it can’t be helped," Jim said philosophically, then sighed. "I took the day off from work for this. Not sure what to do now."

"It is still early yet," Glorfindel said. "Perhaps you can return to work. I’m sure when you explain what has happened, your boss will let you reschedule your day off unless we end up having you take the tour on the weekend."

"Yeah, I can do that," Jim said with a nod, then turned to his wife. "What about you and the kids? Should I drop you home?"

"No, we’ll stay in town," she said. "I’ll take them Christmas shopping and we’ll have lunch and take in a movie. You want to pick us up when you get out of work? We’ll wait for you in the town square."

"That’s a long day out, though," Jim replied, looking dubiously at the children who were already fidgeting.

"Why don’t you do as you suggested," Glorfindel said, "and when you are ready to return home, call this number and one of us will come and pick you up." He pulled out a business card from his wallet and, taking a pen and circling a number on the card, handed it to the woman.

"Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.

"It’s the least we can do," Glorfindel assured her and with that, the family made their farewells and left, the children pestering their parents about what was happening and why couldn’t they see Santa.

Glorfindel tuned them out as he turned back to Barahir and Gilvegil. "We need to find them," he said.

"Where do we even begin to look?" Gilvegil countered. "They could be anywhere."

"But it’s a distinctive van with the resort logo on it," Barahir pointed out. "We might find people who were out and noticed the van. Maybe the police or the sheriff’s department can check to see if anyone saw it."

"They would have had to take Aurora out of the campus, regardless of which direction they ultimately took," Glorfindel said. "Let’s assume that they initially took the route to here to allay any misgivings on Alex’s part. Where could they have veered off?"

"Let’s see," Barahir said. "If they stayed on Aurora to Orion, they could have either continued straight or turned left rather than turning right to come here. But if they turned left, it would only take them to the park and there are no other streets that they could’ve taken. If they continued on Aurora, there would be any number of side streets for them to take. It all depends on what their ultimate destination is. Do you think they would remain in Wiseman or go elsewhere?"

"That’s what we need to determine," Glorfindel said. "Call Ron and see what he’s learned from Dave. I’m going to...."

But what he planned to say they never learned for just then the Grange Hall doors opened and they saw Finrod entering with Beleg, Vardamir, Valandur, Laurendil, the two Legolases and most of the other Valinórean Elves, at least the warriors, right behind him. Finrod’s expression was very grim.

"They have been kidnapped," he said without preamble.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "I was just about to call you," he said.

"I have heard from Finda," Finrod replied.

"Could he tell you where they were going?" Glorfindel asked, accepting his gwador’s words. As powerful as he was with his ability to use ósanwë, he knew Finrod was even more so and did not question that he and his son had been in contact.

Finrod shook his head. "The image was not clear, and I only know that they appeared to be heading away from this town."

"Which direction?" Glorfindel asked, but before Finrod could reply, there was the sound of sirens becoming louder and then falling silent. A minute later, Dave Michaelson was entering the hall, along with Carl Graff and several other police officers, all of them making their way to where the Elves were.

"I heard from Ron," Dave said without preamble. "I checked with dispatch and with the fire department and no accident has been reported in the last hour."

"And there wouldn’t be," Glorfindel said. "We talked with Marty over at Northern Lights. Two of his employees were found bound and gagged and one of the vans is missing. We know it arrived at the Academy and it picked up the student assigned to it, along with some others who were planning to get off here, but that is all we know for sure. We were hoping your people might canvas the town and see if anyone noticed the van."

"I can do that, but it’ll take time," Dave said. "Does this have anything to do with the trouble you’ve been having at the Academy, trouble you refuse to talk about to us?" He nodded at the sheriff, including him in the discussion.

Glorfindel sighed. "Yes, it does. The student’s name is Alex Grant. He, I suspect, is the target for the kidnapping." Both Dave and Carl raised disbelieving eyebrows at that, but before either could comment, Glorfindel continued. "That’s not necessarily the worst of it. Alex’s roommate, Derek Lowell, as well as three Elves were also in the missing van."

Dave stole a look at all the Elves gathered around them. "Any three Elves in particular?" he asked Glorfindel.

"My son," Finrod answered grimly, "and the great-grandsons of my royal cousin and my liegeman." He nodded to Laurendil.

"Oh, that’s just great," Dave muttered. "Okay, I think it’s time you came clean about what the hell is going on here," he exclaimed to Loren, giving him an angry look.

"I must look for my son," Finrod said.

"And do you know where to look?" Carl asked.

"I know in which direction to look," Finrod replied, "but as I am unfamiliar with this area, I have no idea where to go."

"We’ll figure it out later," Dave said shortly. "Right now, I need to know what’s going on so I can coordinate things. If there has been a kidnapping...."

"Hey, anyone see Zach?"

They all turned around to see Jud, Shane and Lily coming toward them.

"What do you mean?" Glorfindel asked, already dreading the answer.

"He left our place two hours ago, said he was coming over here to help out," Jud said. "I told him I would join him after my doctor’s appointment. I met Shane and Lily along the way."

"Zach was never here," Gilvegil said quietly.

"Was he walking or driving?" Dave asked them.

"Walking," Jud replied. "He said he needed the exercise. So what’s up? Why are you all here anyway? Has something happened?"

Glorfindel sighed, closing his eyes. "Perhaps I should start at the beginning," he finally said, opening his eyes.

"Yes, please do," Dave said somewhat sardonically.

Glorfindel nodded, giving them all a grim look. "It started with someone taking our photos and sending them to a particular agency in Washington, D. C and then....."

****

When he had finished his tale, giving them just the bare bones, the Mortals just stared at him in disbelief.

"Spies?" Carl Graff finally exclaimed. "You’re telling us that we’ve been infiltrated by spies and this Alex Grant is one of them?"

"Yes," Glorfindel said bluntly, "and I fear that a rogue agent is responsible for the kidnappings, assuming Zach is a victim as well."

"But why would they kidnap Zach?" Lily asked.

"I don’t know, unless it was as surety to make sure Alex would cooperate with them with whatever they have planned," Glorfindel replied. Then he thought of something, turning to Finrod. "Where’s Amroth?"

"He was at Edhellond when we left," Finrod answered, "speaking to his wife, warning her to be extra vigilant. He said he would join us later once he was assured that the rest of the Academy was well protected."

Glorfindel turned to Barahir. "Call him and tell him to stay put wherever he happens to be and find out where Daeron is."

The other Elf nodded and started speed dialing his phone even as Glorfindel turned his attention back to Finrod. "You said you know in which direction the van is heading."

"It has been shifting but now it appears they are heading in a southernly direction."

"How far can you be and still be in contact with Finda?" Glorfindel asked.

"The farthest I have ever attempted such contact has been under a league. Already the connection is fading though I can sense through our bond that no harm has come to my son as yet."

"If they’ve traveled more than three miles, they must’ve left Wiseman," Dave offered. "Going south? They can only be on the main highway, heading for Fairbanks."

"Or anywhere along the way," Glorfindel said grimly. He glanced at Valandur and Laurendil. "What about you two? Are you able to sense Calandil and Elennen?"

Both ellyn shook their heads. "Not really," Valandur said, "but I get the impression that they have somehow joined their thoughts with Finda. I can only assume that is why Finrod can still sense them, as far away as they must be by now."

"That would make sense," Finrod said with a nod. "I wondered why I could sense my son’s thoughts as clearly as I have been able to, but distance is the key and even with the aid of his gwedyr, our connection is weakening with every minute."

"Then we have no time to lose," Glorfindel said. "Dave, can you and Carl alert the authorities as far as Fairbanks, see if the van can be spotted along the way? Warn them not to interfere with the van but keep you posted as to where it is going and where it stops."

Both Men nodded. "We can put out an APB," Dave said. "I’ll call the resort and find out what the tags are so the van can be better traced."

"Good," Glorfindel said. "And as soon as we have a possible location, we’ll set off to rescue the children."

"You?" Carl demanded. "Don’t you think you should let us handle it? We can have a SWAT team on board in a matter of minutes. Let them deal with the kidnappers. It’s what they get paid to do."

"These are not ordinary kidnappers, Carl," Glorfindel said with a shake of his head. "These are trained government agents who apparently have gone rogue, but at any rate, they are highly dangerous and having a SWAT team come charging in could easily bring about the deaths of the victims. You let us handle this. We can approach their hideaway without them even knowing we are there. It’ll be safer that way."

Both Dave and Carl looked decidedly unhappy about it, but in the end, they agreed to Glorfindel’s plan. Glorfindel glanced at Finrod and gave him a wry look. "I really hate this part," was all he said. Finrod merely nodded, knowing what his gwador meant, still concentrating on keeping a somewhat tenuous hold on his son’s thoughts, mentally reviewing all he would do to the kidnappers when they caught up with them.

****

Ósanwë: (Quenya) Thought-sending, i.e. telepathy.

72: Kidnapped!

They rode in silence and the time spent in the van seemed interminable to Derek. He glanced at the Elves, all three sitting with a stillness that was almost frightening, their eyes closed, their breathing almost too slow it seemed to him. He couldn’t tell if they were scared or not. He knew he was scared. Nothing in his life had ever prepared him for this. He glanced at Alex — or was it Artemus? — sitting across from him. His gwador was equally still, yet his eyes were wide open and they never left the man sitting there with the gun, staring at him as if he were memorizing every detail of the man’s face. He appeared to be relaxed, not tense the way Derek felt, and Derek had to remind himself that perhaps for his gwador, this was a familiar scene, that this was probably not the first time someone had ever held a gun to him. Derek was at a loss as to what to do, but realized that at the moment he couldn’t do much of anything, so as the van continued southward on the James Dalton Highway he half closed his eyes and started to do one of the deep breathing exercises Alex had taught him.

He never noticed his gwador giving him a brief glance, a slight smile of approval creasing his face. Derek was correct that it really wasn’t Alex sitting there, but Artemus, coldly calculating the odds, devising and rejecting one plan after another, but keeping all options open. He suspected that the kidnappers were two of the agents he had never been able to identify and figured they were taking them to Farrell, holed up somewhere between Wiseman and Fairbanks. It had been a clever ruse, he had to admit, and hoped that the real driver and assessor had not been harmed.

He glanced at the Elves, and a small doubt entered his mind. From the very beginning they had exhibited no fear and little surprise, as if they knew what was to happen, but he did not think that could be so. He studied them carefully, noticing the absolute stillness of their bodies, a stillness that seemed inherent to the Elves, for he had noticed that trait among some of the others, Barry and Ron in particular. Their eyes were closed, as if they did not wish to look upon the kidnappers, but then he noticed something that gave him a clue as to what they might be doing: both Calandil and Elennen, sitting on either side of Findalaurë, had a hand on his shoulders. To the casual observer, it might seem that these two were offering their friend comfort, but Artemus doubted it.

He recalled a discussion in the history class about some of the abilities of the Elves that Mortals did not have and remembered Della speaking of some Elves being able to speak to another mind to mind. Telepathy, he would’ve called it, though Della used another word that he couldn’t remember. He had scoffed at the idea, for this was before he’d learned the truth. But he had seen evidence of this ability since and now he had to wonder. Perhaps Lawrence was in contact with someone, Finrod, most likely. He wasn’t sure how that might help them out of the situation they were in, but he’d learned a long time ago never to dismiss anything that might be to his advantage.

He wondered just how far they would be traveling before meeting up with Farrell, but even as he was thinking this, the driver turned off to the right onto a dirt road that was barely passable. He glanced out the window, hoping he might recognize a landmark or two, for they had not traveled all that far. They had passed the road leading to Coldfoot on the left only ten minutes before by his estimate without being able to consult his phone. He vaguely recalled that just south of Coldfoot was the southern road leading to Santa’s Grotto. The tour he’d planned out would’ve used the northern route, instead. He thought it odd that Farrell would use the grotto as a hideout considering that it was being used, or would be later on. He recalled meeting one of the couples who would be playing Santa and the Missus and their saying how they would arrive around noon to set up for the first of the tours which was scheduled to arrive around three. It was probably not even ten yet, so there would be a couple of hours in which the grotto would be empty. The problem, he saw, was that he simply wasn’t sure what Farrell was planning, what he meant to do with Alex, or rather with Artemus.

He became even more confused when the van went past the road that he knew had to lead to the grotto and was at a loss as to where they might be going. He didn’t have long to wait, for topping a rise, he could see before them a small farmhouse. He casually shifted his weight, as if trying to find a more comfortable position. It enabled him to nudge Derek’s foot and his gwador opened his eyes. Alex jerked his head slightly to his left and Derek looked out the front window, his eyes widening, as if he recognized the place, but he had no time to say anything, for the road came to an end in front of the farmhouse where they saw a car. As the van came to a stop behind the car, the agent who had kept the gun trained on Artemus the entire time, now pointed it at Derek.

"Open the door and don’t try anything funny," he snarled and Derek complied. "You three, wake up. We’re at the end of the line." And for some reason he found that funny for he chuckled. The three Elves complied to the man’s demands. The driver, meantime, had gotten out and was now facing them, a gun in his hand.

"Okay, nice and easy now," the driver said. "You first," he gestured to Derek, "and keep your hands where I can see them."

Derek raised his hands as he awkwardly climbed out of the van, the man stepping back slightly to give him some room, gesturing with his gun so that Derek moved to his right a bit more, giving the next person some room to climb out. That was Cal, followed by Lawrence and then Elennen. Derek noticed that as soon as the three were down on the ground, Cal and Alan placed their hands on Lawrence’s shoulders and he wondered if they were holding their gwador back from doing something stupid. Artemus came next followed by the other agent.

"Right," the man said. "Into the house. Meriwether, you go first, and remember, your four friends here will be the first to die if you do anything stupid."

Artemus refused to react to the man’s threat, climbing the steps to the wrap-around porch and opening the door. Derek was right behind him, followed by the Elves with the two agents bringing up the rear.

"All the way to the back," they heard one of them say and they soon found themselves in a large room that appeared to be a combination kitchen and sitting room. For the first time Artemus reacted and for a moment he was Alex again, giving a gasp as he saw who was waiting for them.

"Zach! What....?"

"Ah, Mr. Grant, or should I say, Mr. Meriwether? Do come in." Derek, right behind Alex, saw Farrell with another man whom he didn’t know and sitting in an upright chair, his hands and feet tied with rope, his mouth gagged, was their friend Zach. "That’s right, all the way in. Armstrong, what’s the meaning of this? Who are these others?" Farrell snarled at the one he called Armstrong, who turned out to be the driver.

"They were with Meriwether and wished a lift to the Grange Hall," Armstrong answered with a shrug. "We couldn’t very well refuse or our cover would’ve been blown. What do you want us to do with them?"

Farrell had a calculating look on his face as he glanced first at Artemus standing there calmly, almost indifferently, then at Zach, tied to the chair and then at Derek and the Elves. "Well, for the moment, find some more rope and tie them up. If the Austin kid doesn’t work out, maybe one of these will. Grieve, Pegg, give him a hand."

Armstrong went out again, while the other two agents grabbed Derek by the arms and ruthlessly removed his hat and coat, pushing him roughly into another chair. One of them forced Derek’s arms behind him as Armstrong returned with more rope and they tied him up. Derek tried not to grimace as the rope bit into his flesh. When they finished with Derek they went to do the same to Alan, but the Elf resisted, negligently pushing Armstrong away, sending the agent to the floor. Almost at once the other two Elves fell back and tackled the other two agents.

"What the hell?" Farrell exclaimed, pulling out a gun and firing it into the air. The sound of it froze everyone. He then placed the gun at Zach’s temple, giving them an ugly look. "If you don’t want me to splatter your friend’s brains all over the place, you will let my men tie you up," he snarled.

"Do as he says," Artemus ordered. "This is no time for heroics."

The three Elves gave him disbelieving looks but allowed themselves to be tied up. Derek noticed that Lawrence was glowering at Artemus, looking both angry and hurt at what he thought was betrayal on the Mortal’s part, but Derek realized that Alex — or was it Artemus? — was doing his best to protect them and keep them alive. He had no doubt that these rogue agents would not hesitate to kill them all if they thought it absolutely necessary.

"What did you do with the Steiners?" he asked Farrell.

"Who? Oh, you mean the couple who own this farm," Farrell said, giving them a shrug. "They’re alive, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I wouldn’t concern yourself with their fate as much as I would be concerned about your own. Meriwether, you disappoint me. All these years I’ve heard about your exploits, how you’re Washburn’s golden boy, but you walk into my little trap like a novice."

"What do you want, Farrell? And what is Zach doing here?"

"Oh well, what I want is for you to take out Elwood. You did get the termination order, didn’t you?"

"A forgery," Artemus said with a sniff. "You really should practice your penmanship. That signature was as fake as a plugged nickel. And you gave me until Thanksgiving to carry out the order. Just why are you so hung up about terminating McKinley?"

"Elwood...."

"Elwood is dead, Farrell, and I have the proof," Artemus countered. "I sent it all to Maddy. McKinley is no more Elwood than I’m the tooth fairy. So just what is your game, just what is really going on here? You come barging in on my turf, insisting you’re the boss when I was given clear instructions from my controllers as to what the deal here was. Ever since you showed up, you’ve been in my face, ordering me around without any proof that you have that authority and I want to know why. If you’re so convinced that McKinley is Elwood, why haven’t you taken him out yourself? Why do you insist I do it instead?"

Farrell gave him a grimace of frustration. "Don’t you think I’ve tried? Damn so-and-so keeps eluding me somehow. I can’t get a fix on him and neither can my men. Speaking of which, just what happened to Finlay and the others?"

"No idea," Alex lied, shaking his head. "Like I told you...."

"Save your sob story for someone who cares," Farrell interrupted. "Enough. First things first. Pegg, you have the serum ready?"

"Here," Pegg said, holding up what appeared to be an IV needle. At Farrell’s nod he went to Zach, pulling up his left sleeve. Zach, his eyes wide with fear, tried to struggle. Pegg casually slapped him in the face. "Remain still or so help me I’ll make you suffer. This will only hurt a bit."

"What do you hope to gain by this, Farrell?" Artemus demanded.

"I’ve been keeping tabs on that Academy of yours," Farrell answered readily enough. "Zach, here, is that DelaFiore’s right-hand man. I told you how I couldn’t seem to get any info on what was going on in that house they all live in or the Academy? Well, I decided to approach the problem from a different angle."

"By kidnapping Zach," Alex said. "So why me?"

"Ah, well, we’ll get to you soon enough," Farrell said with a sneer as he watched Pegg inserting the IV into Zach’s arm and adjusting the drip. Pegg stood up and gave Farrell a nod. "It’ll take about five minutes or so before the serum takes effect."

Farrell nodded. "Ungag him," he ordered. Pegg complied and everyone watched as Zach struggled to keep his eyes open, making slight whimpering sounds of fear. Farrell reached down and lifted the young man’s chin. "Now, now, Mr. Austin. No need to be afraid. I’m just going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer them and when we’re done, you’ll go to sleep."

Pegg checked Zach’s pulse, and nodded to Farrell, who continued leaning over the young man. "Now, Mr. Austin, why don’t you tell me who DeLaFiore is."

For a moment, Zach didn’t answer as he blinked several times, his head lolling back and forth. Then he opened his mouth and in a sing-song voice said, "He is my frie-end."

Everyone, including Artemus, Derek and the Elves, stared at Zach in surprise. Farrell reared back, as if he’d been hit. "What nonsense is this?" he demanded, looking at Pegg, as if the other man had all the answers. "Why is he singing?"

Pegg shrugged. "Don’t look at me. Maybe it’s the drug. It can do funny things to people."

Farrell let out a puff of frustration. "Okay, let’s try this again. Mr. Austin, besides being your friend, what else is DelaFiore?"

"Not his na-ame," Zach sang, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?" Farrell demanded. "Of course, his name is DelaFiore. Loren DelaFiore. Now tell me what you know about him."

"Not Loren," Zach said with a frown. "His name is not Loren." He sang the sentence as if it were a Gregorian chant.

"Okay, then what is his name?" Farrell asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Lord Glo-or-fi-indel of the House of the Go-oh-olden Flow-er."

"What the hell?" Farrell demanded, stepping back in surprise.

That was when Artemus struck. With all four agents’ attention on the singing Zach, Artemus had been biding his time, slowly, incrementally, shifting his position. He saw Derek stare at him, as did the Elves, and shook his head just slightly, putting a finger to his lips. Derek nodded and the Elves seemed to relax, or as much as they were able to all tied up. Artemus gauged the distance between him and Farrell. Pegg, Grieve and Armstrong were standing close to one side, staring in disbelief at their prisoner as he sang his answers. The trick was to take them all out as quickly as possible. He was sure he could do it. It was just a matter of getting into the correct position to effect the greatest amount of damage to the three agents before he tackled Farrell.

Just as Farrell stepped back in surprise at Zach’s response, Artemus saw his opportunity and without making any noise to alert the agents, did a standing leap, knocking the gun out of Grieve’s hand, then slamming himself into the agent, knocking him over, along with Armstrong who was standing next to him. A single chop knocked Grieve out even as Artemus was rolling over on top of Armstrong to take him out as well, but he never got the chance.

Just as he was about to knock the agent out, he heard an ominous click and, turning, saw Farrell standing over Zach with his gun pointed at the helpless man.