“I can guide you to the food.” She shook her head.
“All right,” he said, “you don’t have to. But I don’t want to hurt you. Who killed the people in the village?”
Her lips moved at last. “Soldiers.”
“Well, I’m not a soldier. I have two friends with me, and they’re not soldiers, either. We want to help you. If you crawl forward, I can tell you how to find the things I brought for you.”
But the tiny figure still did not move. Obviously Rap’s efforts were only increasing her terror. He could have soothed a frightened foal, or calmed a puppy, but with people he had no occult skill at all.
“Then I’ll go away and leave you. Do you want that?” She nodded.
“Then you come and see me in the morning. I’ll go out to the place where you were pulling weeds, and you come and see me, and we’ll talk. In the morning. All right? And I’ll leave this food right here, and the blanket. I’m going now. ”
Whistling a sad tune, hating himself, Rap turned and walked noisily off through the invisible forest. The child stayed where she was, in the rain.
5
She did come the next morning, after Rap had been waiting in hot sunlight for nearly an hour. He had thought to bring a stool, for his feet were inflamed and painful, but he had no sunshade and all he could do about the insects was slap and swear. Thinal and Little Chicken sat in plain view at the edge of the clearing.
The girl had been watching them from the jungle all that time, but Rap had pretended not to know. He had spent his time studying the vegetables, trying to guess what they were. The only ones he knew for certain were beans.
His patience ran out at last. Turning to face her, he cupped his hands and shouted. “Come out! I won’t hurt you. I’m not a soldier.”
After a few minutes, she emerged, walking toward him with so light a grace that she might have been floating. At most she was twelve years old, but her head barely reached his chest. She wore a simple dress of brown homespun, with no shoes or adornments. Her hair was straight and hung loose. Like her skin, it was black, and her eyes were black—all black. Even the sclera were black, as if her face had been carved from a single block of ebony. Rap had not noticed that in the night. He hid his surprise with a smile and sat waiting for her, his hands held open to show that he had no weapon.
She came much closer than he had expected, stopping a few paces from him and trying to return his smile with a lip that insisted on wobbling. His pale-brown skin and gray-and-white eyes must make him seem just as uncanny to her as she was to him.
“I shall call you Food Giver,” she said, her voice quavering. ”How will you term me?”
Rap had already opened his mouth to tell her his name; he was nonplussed to be asked for hers instead. Then he remembered one of his mother’s superstitions—that evil sorcerers sought out people’s names in order to do them harm. Perhaps fairyfolk had the same belief.
“I shall term you Forest Sleeper.”
His guess worked, she seemed to approve. She took a deep breath. “Food Giver, you are welcome to our hearth and spring. May the Good be prospered . . . ” She hesitated and bit her lip. Black lips, black tongue. It was almost a relief to see the tips of her teeth and learn that they, at least, were white. She tried again. “We offer all we have, and may the Good be prospered by your coming. May your stay be joyful and your leaving . . . ah . . . not soon?” She smiled uncertainly. “Did I say that right?”
“I think so. You said it very well. But I don’t know the right words to answer. Can you tell me what I am supposed to say?” She shook her head apprehensively.
“Then I’ll just say thank you, Forest Sleeper, and tell you again that I want to be your friend.”
She smiled with relief.
“Will you come and meet my friends now? I have two friends, and we don’t want to hurt you. They want to be your friends, too.”
The child hesitated, then gave him her hand. The palm was sticky with fear, the fingers tiny as a baby’s. He rose and led her back toward the huts, marveling at how she seemed to float over the ground. As she moved through rows of plants, the leaves hardly seemed to note her passage.
“When did the bad soldiers come?”
“A long time ago.”
“And you were the only one to escape?”
She nodded. Rap thought she was going to start weeping. He cursed himself for questioning her so soon.
“Momma had sent me to the fish trap, for food to offer—” Her voice broke off in a near sob.
“You can tell me later. I expect you’re hungry again? When you’ve met my friends, then we’ll all eat, and then have a talk.” What was he going to do with this orphan? If Imperial soldiers had been responsible for the atrocity in the village, then he could not take her to Milflor. She might be in danger there, and she would certainly not be happy. So Rap would have to go in search of another fairy settlement—and that might take weeks. He certainly could not abandon her here alone.
“When the moon shines,” she said timorously, “and I want to dance, will you clap for me?”
“Of course.”
She smiled happily. “I have danced a little, as I could, but there was no one to clap. I will clap for you to dance!”
Rap thought she was going to have another disappointment then, but he promised he would dance.
She stopped suddenly, tugging his large hand with her tiny one. He looked down in surprise at her worried expression.
“Food Giver,” she said, “what is nearest your heart?”
“Er . . .” Rap smiled as cheerfully as he could. “I don’t think I understand, Forest Sleeper. I come from a long way away, and I do not know how things are done here.”
“Oh.” She looked alarmed.
“You tell me what I’m supposed to tell you.”
It seemed that Forest Sleeper was not sure of the answer, nor why she was asking. She hesitated, fumbled for words, and then said, “Tell me your dreams?”
Rap felt inadequate and bewildered. He knelt down on the red soil to study the strangely haunting face, and even then his eyes were higher than hers. ”My dreams?”
“What you seek.” His inability to understand was frightening her again.
“What I want most, you mean?” Rap asked, and earned a vigorous nod. ”Oh! I seek a lady, a friend of mine. She was taken away . . . She had to go away, and I want to find her.”
The black-on-black eyes seemed to search his. The fairy child’s skin was very shiny, as if polished, but her eyes gleamed brighter still—like black metal, oddly beautiful in spite of their strangeness.
“So I may serve her. Because she is my queen.”
Another pause, and a sudden childish grin, as if this had all been a joke. ”You do not know!”
Apparently that cryptic remark concluded the ritual, if it had been a ritual. Seeming greatly reassured, Forest Sleeper tugged at Rap’s hand to make him rise, and then set off skipping at his side. But he did not think that curious episode had been a joke and he hoped that there were no more unfamiliar customs in store.
Her increasing confidence had changed her gait to a dance. Rap felt as if he were holding her down, that without his grip on her hand she might flit away into the sky. Andor had told him once that the elves were the most graceful of all the races of Pandemia, but Andor had never met a fairy. Few had. Her features were fine and delicate, and her jet skin had a strangely fascinating beauty. Even her fingernails were shiny black.
Thinal came forward a few feet. Perhaps he thought he might be less frightening than Little Chicken, but the girl’s hand gripped Rap’s very tightly as she approached him. Then they stopped, and for a moment no one spoke.
“I shall call you Small One,” she announced. Bewilderment crossed Thinal’s face, and he looked to Rap. “Name her,” Rap said very quietly, almost mouthing the words.
“Oh. I shall call you . . . Dark Lady.”
She giggled, as if that were funny. “Small One, you are welcome to our hearth and spring. We offer what we have, and may the Good be prospered by your coming. May your stay be joyful and your leaving . . . er. . .”