Sunrise

Chapter Twenty-Three: Foolish Mortals

Now this was Fair Folk magic.

And what magic it was - breathtaking in its scope, fascinating in its detail, marvelous in its complexity. Everywhere she looked, as they traveled through the underground realm, it twinkled at her mysteriously, an otherworldly signature that she knew she could never decipher, not if she studied it all her life. It was a language no mortal could speak, beautiful and potent, but eerie. She did not trust it.

Over their heads the roof of the caverns soared impossibly high, studded with jewels that shone with their own ethereal light, illuminating the interior as brightly as any sun. They traveled through lands neatly and richly cultivated, studded with low stone cottages whose roofs were green with lichen and covered in flowers. Strange plants, many of them luminous, nodded at the borders of the path they trod, where, scattered carelessly as pebbles, jewels glimmered, the ownership of any one of which would be enough to prompt a war in the world above.

As they passed a tall stalk covered in what appeared to be winged insects, the stem quivered, and the winged creatures popped off and fluttered around them, squeaking. Fflewddur yelped and ducked in surprise, and Gurgi leapt in circles, snapping at them in vain. Taran, startled, raised his hand to swat at one that flew into his face, only to have one of their dwarf guides give a bark of warning. "Don't! They're just ellies. Pesky things, but pay them no mind and they'll leave you be. If you go hurting one the whole swarm'll be after you in a moment."

"Ellies?" Eilonwy paused, and tried to look closer. A few of the winged things still clung to the stem they had passed, and she bent toward them. It was odd - like the stars you can only see from the corner of your eye. When she looked directly at one, it disappeared, but she managed, by quickly darting her eyes to the side, to get a sense of a tiny human-like figure flanked by fluttering iridescent wings. "Oh," she gasped in revelation. "Ellyllon!"

The dwarf favored her with a slightly more respectful glance. Taran and Fflewddur both crowded around, murmuring in wonder. "I didn't think they really existed," Taran breathed, squinting from the side, as the little creatures began to settle back onto their plant. "What are they doing?"

"Molting," the guide explained. "It makes them fidgety and they're good for nothing 'till they finish." At a nod from him the procession continued, but it was difficult for Eilonwy to tear herself away from examining the ellyllon. The breeze from the fluttering of their wings almost shimmered with visible magic, and it bore the scent of every flower that ever bloomed. It was a heady contrast with the cold stone-and-mineral smell of the dwarfs' power.

Reluctantly she followed her companions, thinking over every bit of faery lore she'd ever read. So far none of it had quite captured the real thing, but then there didn't seem to be any words sufficient to describe it. Given the well-known glamorous effects of Fair Folk magic upon mortal minds, it might even be that nothing they saw about them was real, but it was impossible to tell. And therein lay her discomfort, despite the apparent harmless intent of their guides.

She was sure the Folk would have no qualms about hoodwinking them, not after the behavior of their king. Somehow she had liked him. But the denizens of his realm were something else again. She felt eyes upon them from every direction, not all of them friendly. There was even one dwarf within the troop guiding them who made the hair on her arms raise - smaller than the others, strangely dark; his eyes were dead black with no discernible pupil. His edges seemed blurred when she looked at him, and when he caught her staring he grinned at her in a way that made a shiver run down her back.

Around another bend in the road, a lilt of merry music caught their ears, and they emerged from a cluster of silver-edged trees to behold a troupe of creatures dancing in a circle. There were squatty brown things, with skin like tree bark and patches of mossy fur, tall graceful women with floating long hair whose feet never seemed to touch the ground - and who wore nearly nothing, she noted - and odd combinations of beasts: mice with frog legs, things like winged lizards, and many more that defied description. All were whirling around in a fashion so wild she could not decide if the dance were impossibly complex or just plain chaotic. It was mesmerizing, a tempting, sensuous swirl of sound and color, and she could not look away...