“Then you will have no more feasts, my lord,” pointed out Myrrdin.
“Then so be it!” cried Oberon.
Myrrdin sighed, he had hoped it would not come to this. “Then I have no choice but to check you with Vaul,” he said, producing the Green Jewel of power and holding it aloft. It exuded its own bath of green light, which conflicted with Lavatis and together the Jewels cast a rich eldritch brilliance the blue-green color of the sea. Myrrdin's company and Oberon's retinue both retreated in dismay, shielding their faces from the awful twin glares of raw power.
For once, Oberon was truly at a loss. “How?” he demanded.
Myrrdin shrugged. “In the Deepwood, I was driven into the underworld by Herla. Many of my comrades perished, but we did rediscover this lost power,” he said bravely. Inside, he was nowhere near so calm, as he had only begun to understand the workings of the Jewel. It was all he could do to command Vaul to cast a brilliant glow. He had hoped to keep the Jewel secret from those of power for some years so that he might master it fully.
Oberon had lost his rage, and now had turned thoughtful. The rainbow he had summoned now marched up behind him to stand upon great shimmering legs. It was a terrible sight for mortal eyes, and some perished quietly in the forest that night from sheer fright. “I am certain that I have a better mastery of Lavatis than you do of Vaul. Perhaps it is best that I destroy you now and so become master of two colors.'“
Myrrdin shrugged again. “It is all one to me. Many times tonight I have surprised you. One more time will be enough, should you require it. But…”
“Of what do you think to speak?”
“It does seem to me a big risk to take over a simple matter of food. We will provide for you and yours, but we ask a boon.”
“Speak!” commanded Oberon. “What do you ask?”
“Each year, at the end of harvest, we will give you one part in seven of our goods, which is enough to feed you all. We will make this Offering on the night of the Harvest Moon, which is tomorrow night. In return, you will swear not to allow your people to harm us, lure us from our homes, place changelings in our cradles or execute curses against us. In essence, your people will not be allowed to walk these lands, and they shall be recognized as the lands of humanity.”
There were a few titterings and catcalls among the Faerie at this. Oberon silenced them with a wave of the hand. “What else?”
“I further propose a Pact, between us, against the Enemy and his Dark Ones, which is to say, those among your kind that have elected to become his minions. You must keep them from harming us, and we will do what we can to keep them from harming you.”
At this point, many of the Faerie voiced their contempt of the humans and the Kindred. They called out shrill insults toward the humans, and some tried to slip away into the trees and circle around behind the mortals. Oberon deliberated for but a moment.
“I accept,” he said, as Myrrdin had gambled he would, for Oberon himself was almost as afraid of Herla as was Myrrdin. The added power of Vaul would do much to hold his nemesis at bay. The Faerie were shocked, and quieted suddenly. Bright eyes suddenly slitted and became dark as many of them vanished into the trees to show their disapproval.
Despite their misgivings, the Fair Folk honored Oberon's word, ceasing their cruel tricks. The rainbow strode away toward a distant storm cloud without releasing its wrath. On the thirty-first night, a great Offering was gathered. From that year to this, for many centuries, when the moon waxes gibbous and heavy with orange light and hangs low and full in the sky, the Offering is made. In this way has the Pact and the peace been maintained.
Chapter Twenty
There had been a gasp or two when Gudrin had mentioned Stone Island, the very land on which they stood, but everyone had managed to keep from interrupting her story until she was finished.
“The town common! You were talking about our faerie mound!” broke in Tylag, his eyes gleaming.
Gudrin didn't take offense this time, as she could tell that her audience was well in hand. She merely glanced up and nodded, a smile playing on her lips. She took a long draught of beer from a mug that was offered her and sat back to rest. With the now familiar ritual, she closed her book, wrapped it, and tucked it under her arm.
After thinking about Gudrin's story, there was little debate left in the council members. It was speedily decided that the Talespinner should stand in for Myrrdin. As twilight was only a few hours away, they adjourned and everyone headed for the town common.
The Harvest Moon Festival was in full swing now, with many folk from Riverton, Hamlet, North End, Swampton and even distant Frogmorton feasting and reveling. There were contests of strength and speed, foot races and tree felling. The berrywine casks flowed freely and many of the people wore masks with floating ribbons and gauze in the guise of the Faerie. Usually stolid and unwavering in their conduct, men and women danced with partners that they would not recall in the morning. Children formed their own faerie rings around tall poles, winding ribbons of every hue into shimmering rainbows.
As twilight fell bonfires were lit upon the common. Yellow firelight illuminated the dome tents and cast wild shadows of the dancing revelers upon them. Brand watched the shadowy forms on the tent walls and once thought to see the capering form of a true goblin. He turned to examine the dancers, but all were human.
Above everything, the moon waxed full and washed the common with its dusky orange light. As it was every year, something of the Wilds slipped through into the River Haven. Things that were held at bay during the rest of the year awakened under the Harvest Moon. The term of the old Pact had ended and the new Pact had yet to be renewed, and in that brief span of time, the people were lost to the effects of the Fair Folk and the full moon.
Brand looked upon the festival differently this year, finding a kind of terror in it to think of a world where every night was lost such as this one was. What would the world be like without the Pact? Everything good and solid in his life looked now to him as a treasure suspended above flame by a tiny fragile thread. Should the thread ever break, all he had ever known would be lost.
Gudrin climbed the hill at the end of the common to the grove of trees that hid the faerie mound. Only Modi accompanied her, against the wishes and warnings of the clan leaders. Modi had promised not to enter the glade, but only to stand in the trees and observe. The council warned him that only the Talespinner should be present, and that any other entering the clearing did so in peril of his life and soul. Modi only grunted in acknowledgment before stumping after Gudrin who had begun the trek. Gudrin walked as one burdened, and appeared to everyone to be older than she had at any other time. She kept her wide-brimmed hat pulled low over her brow, bore her odd rucksack over her hunched shoulders and kept her book clamped beneath her arm.
“It's time, boys,” hissed Telyn in their ears. Brand and Corbin turned to find her face poked between the two of them. “Here are your wards,” she said, handing each a circle of river stone with a hole worn in the center and a thong of leather run through it. They took them and hung them about their necks. “I found them in stream beds, worn through naturally. Drilled holes wouldn't work.”
“Where's yours?” asked Brand.
“This lucky ash leaf is even more potent, but more fragile,” Telyn said as she fluttered her charm at him. The lucky ash leaf bore two terminal leaflets instead of one. She met his eyes and he frowned at her, reaching to take her arm. This was all the warning she needed. With a laugh, she evaded him and ran away into the darkness behind one of the domed tents.
“By the River,” swore Brand. “She'll not escape us so easily this time!” He and Corbin ran after the fleet- footed girl, cloaks flying and heavy boots crunching the slushy earth.
“Hey!” shouted Jak behind them. “Where are you off to?”
Brand and Corbin made no attempt at replying, knowing that they would need all their attention to keep Telyn in sight. She led them on a merry chase, darting between vendors' carts and under tables spread with fine foods. Corbin, rather than following her every step, chose to drop back a bit and cut the corners of her winding, twisting
