Elfhome

Riki spoke in dragon. Impatience cocked his head, his eyebrows jumping up in very human surprise and then he gave a rumbling “huuhuuhuuhuu” of a dragon laugh and answered.

“To help you to return from hence you came of course,” Riki translated Impatience reply. “Why else would I be here? It is not like our little ones know what they are doing. Babies must be taught, despite what others might say. What is ours is ours. We have duty to those who are no longer able to do for themselves.”

“Huh?” Tinker said.

“Providence has implied that the dragons loosely cooperate but are territorial. The tengu are Providence’s and he will allow no other dragons to tamper with what is his. I believe Impatience is bucking someone’s authority to help out Oilcan’s kids.”

Weird that no matter what their shape, they were all alike enough to share the concept of politics.

Impatience looked expectantly at Tinker and she looked expectantly at the dragon until she finally growled to Riki. “Ask him how do we get back.”

After a few minutes of talking, Riki said slowly, “Everyone does the same as they did before. But this time—” he paused to apparently ask Impatience for clarification. “This time the babies are to tune to home.”

Tinker managed not to scream in frustration. “Tell him that was what they were trying for in the first place!”

“Huuhuuhuuhuuhuu.” Impatience laughed and patted Oilcan gently on the chest and said something at length.

“What did he say?” Tinker asked.

Riki looked confused. “They know the truth when they hear it. They must remember the sound that touched their soul and made them know that they were home.”

“Oh!” Merry gasped. “I know what it is!”

#

Tinker checked the inscription of the spell. It was no longer active but still drawn on the only clear spot in the bomb-blasted casting room. Having been out of phase with Elfhome’s reality, that section of the pool had been spared. Reassured that it taken no damage, Tinker waved Merry and Rustle into position with the olianuni. She made sure that they hadn’t stepped on any of the glyphs and blurred them. Oilcan double-checked all her work.

Reassured that the spell was perfect, she spoke the command that brought it to life. The kids vanished into brilliance.

“That what happened before.” Tinker took Oilcan’s hand. “They’ll be okay. If nothing else, they’ll come back to here again. Probably.”

Oilcan snorted and leaned close to whisper. “You hate not being able to lie.”

“Yes!”

Music started inside the shell. Judging by the heavy driving beat, it was a human song. It sounded familiar but Tinker couldn’t place it. Oilcan laughed as he recognized it.

“What is it?” Tinker asked.

“We are Pittsburgh,” Oilcan said.

She recognized the song then. Oilcan had created it during the impromptu concert in the gym. A defiant anthem to the city, it snarled their fierce independence and unity to all those that would try to beat them down and divide them.

“Blood on the pavement,” Oilcan sang along with the music. “Blood on the blade, blood flows through common veins. Three worlds bridged by a single span, steel that climbs from earth to sky. Freedom to create, freedom to fly — one world, one people, one kind. We are Pittsburgh.”

Yeah, that’s home

, Tinker thought.

The universe dropped out from under their feet and reality shifted and they were home.

46: Knight Errant

Tommy had always hated the legend of King Arthur, a boy yanking a sword out of a stone and suddenly he was the king. He realized now that the boy had always been a king — the sword was just an outward symbol of what was inside. The sword was more than just a weapon; it was crown.

Oilcan always had that quiet power of command. Even when Tinker was princess of the track, he kept order in her wake. He had never reached out, took hold of the weapon, and gone to war before. Now that he had, the power crowned him.

Tommy could see the news of Oilcan’s fight with Iron Mace move through the Wind Clan elves. They stare at the black mirror parking lot and then looked across the river at the hole blasted into the side of the lock. Iron Mace had been a Stone Clan warlord during the clan wars. He had been one of their enemies’ best. And Oilcan faced him down and killed him. The elves bowed low to Oilcan, awe and respect clear on their faces.

Obviously, Tommy’s part in the day’s win was being ignored because he wasn’t “one of us.” The elves were still looking at him with open suspicion. It was starting to really piss him off. He drifted into the shadows of a rusting tilt-n-whirl carnival ride as the elves did the messy work of cleaning up dead oni. He was thinking it was time to disappear when Oilcan showed up with two wicker baskets of mauzouan.

“Dumpling?” Oilcan held out one of the wicker baskets. He took the full glare of Tommy’s anger without flinching. “You saved my life today, I can at least make sure you get some of the free food that’s showing up.”