A Tiny Bit Mortal (24 page)

I looked around at the faces at the table and watched Vidar do the same.  “What?” he asked.  “You don’t think I hear your whispers?  The terrible things you are saying about her.”

He stood up from his chair and slammed his hands down on the table.  He stood up so abruptly that it sent his chair flying backwards behind him dramatically.  He pointed in my direction.  “This is a hero.”

“Not one of you in the room has an ounce of her bravery, or shares the divine light that burns like a wildfire inside her.” he said.  “She chose love over power, and to fight for Vidar instead of her personal safety.  Yet you would look down upon her, as inferior, not just because of her choices, but because of her beating heart!”

“You would honor me.” he said.  “For simply returning from captivity after all these years.  What am I?”

“You have the wisdom of the ages.” said the little Chinese woman.

“I am older than all of you.” said Vidar.  “Would you all bow before my wisdom?  Should I place a high throne at the end of your
hall
?”

“It’s not like that, brother.” said the bearded man.

“You are right.” said Vidar.  “It’s not like that because I have not lost my way.  I would never ‘maintain order’ and let myself grow soft in a chair.  Who will fight for our own people that are chained beneath the earth?”

“I will fight!” roared Vidar.  His words echoed loudly through the room and eyes grew wide.  I felt a burst of pride for Vidar rush through me.  I felt my own fire, inside of me, burning brightly.

“And I.” I said, bolting up from my chair and shouting.  “I will fight for them!”

Vidar put his fist to his chest and looked at me with pride.  He looked around at the room that we had shocked into silence.  Vidar’s brother sat with his head hung low, staring down at the table, when suddenly he stood up from his chair.  He looked towards Vidar and said “Brother.”  He turned to face me and said “Sister.”  He raised his voice and said “I will fight.”

Mikella, my angel, and my mother was the next to stand up.  “I will fight for them.” she said, with her sing-song voice and a smile.

The massive Egyptian woman, sitting in an alcove in the floor so that with her sixteen feet of height she could sit level at the table, rose up from her chair with grace.  “I will fight.” Though her alcove was about six feet down, her height was still unnerving.

The Egyptian man rose up just after her, standing next to her at the same height and said “I will fight.”

A few seconds later the little Chinese woman stood up and shouted with her high voice “I will fight!” 

The Indian woman with four arms rose just after her and yelled “I will fight for them!”

The ethereal looking blond woman rose up from her seat, holding her arms out to her side and then doing a curtsy.  She said, looking around the faces at the table “I will fight with you.”

With only one remaining at the table that hadn’t spoken up, everyone stood in silence, waiting.  The man stood with his head bowed, with light brown ringlets hanging over his face.  Without looking up, he said “I can’t.  I have to be with Selene.”  He then rushed out of the room without looking back.

Seeing him leave, I felt a feeling of familiarity, and realized that he had the same hair as Peter.  Peter had said his mom was one of the elders, but not his father.  I raised an eyebrow, thinking, until Vidar’s voice brought me back.

“Are you all prepared to leave this behind?” he asked.

He looked around the room and watched as everyone nodded.  I gave him a wink instead of a nod and he smiled back. 

“Well what are we waiting for?” he asked.  “Let’s go!”

The nine of us left the Hall of Elders that day, leaving behind Selene and her companion.  I was sure to grab my pack on the way out, remembering my vow to never again leave without my clothes.  Looking down at my black Mary Jane shoes I smiled and stepped out of the front door to meet up with the group.

We camped out on the beach that night, lighting a bonfire and sleeping under the stars.  The sky was still clear, and the air cold, but I had my angel with me.  She kept the chill off me with her white feathered wings folded around me while I slept.

Early in the morning I woke up to the whooshing sound of the ocean water.  The stars were only beginning to fade from the sky.

Slipping out of the embrace of Mikella’s feather wings, I grabbed my coat from my pack.  An arm in each sleeve, I wrapped it tightly around my body, watching a colony of seagulls tromping around by the water.  Their calls could be heard over the roar of the tide, sounding like a great squeaky wheel that badly needed oiling.

Looking around at the blanket of sleeping immortals scattered around the still glowing coals of the bonfire, I didn’t see Vidar.  Searching with my eyes, I found him in the distance, sitting on a driftwood log.  He looked deep in thought until he turned his head to meet my eyes.  He smiled at me and then fixed his gaze back at the ocean.

My eyes also turned back to the ocean and the seagulls there by the water.  I watched them dance about on their two little feet, and saw that they were taking turns picking at their breakfast.

A little wind picked up as I stepped towards the birds.  Some eyed me suspiciously and took flight while others were too committed to their feast to leave.  Crouching down, I put my hands in the wet sand and spread out my fingers as if they were webbed feet.  It only seemed natural.

At first I spoke sweetly, calling them sweet little gulls, but it only caused them to break from their feast and hold still.  They were holding their ground and staring.  I’d insulted them.

“Honorable gulls.” I said, with reverence in my voice.  Two of them went back to picking at their breakfast, a brick red crab with his body cracked open. 

The gulls that had previously abandoned their post returned with great flying swoops and landing gracefully in the sand.  I gave them a little bow, and they seemed appeased.

Now that I had an audience I had no idea what to say to them.  Looking around at their faces, they were much different than the garden birds that I had made friends with before.  These birds were ocean birds, and they were every bit as strong and mighty as the great tides that brought them their breakfast.

Not only were they mighty, but I sensed that they were loyal and brave.  They were also curious, so I told them my story.  As my story unfolded, they drew in closer, surrounding me with their little orange webbed feet. 

After my story ended, their squeaky screeching erupted around me.  They wanted to be a part of my story.  Wondering where they might fit in I asked “How far can you fly?”

Their screeching changed tone, and I took it as laughter.  These were the bravest of gulls they said, not some feeble migrating land birds.  The earth had no boundaries for them.

“Have you ever been east, across the land?” I asked.  I took the sounds of their replies as no.  “There lies another great ocean.” I said.  “If you cross that ocean, there is another land.  Somewhere in Europe.  That is where my Tim is.”

The birds grew excited, some of them flying up into the air and swooping back down to the group.  They would find him they said.

“It’s impossible.” I said.  “You could search for years and never find him.  He is like a tiny grain of sand on this beach.”

The birds knew something that I didn’t as they laughed at me once more.  Tim and I were connected.  The scent of his spirit was all over me, distinct as a snowflake.

Laughing along with the birds, the idea of a spirit smelling seemed funny to me.  “What do I smell like?” I asked.

They said I smelled like sunshine and the darkest of nights.  “That’s a contradiction.” I said.  The squeaky wheel of their calls erupted around me in laughter until it slowed to a silent stop. 

Looking around at their white little heads and intense eyes, they waited for me to speak.  “You don’t have to do this.” I said, feeling their commitment wash over me.  They
wanted
to be in my story.

After bowing my head to them, crouched over still with my hands in the wet sand, I felt them leave.  They departed east, and their squeaky calls disappeared into the sunrise.

Walking back to the camp, the group had all risen from their slumber and milled about a newly lit fire.  As I approached, Vidar said “Just having a chat with the birds, eh?”

Giving him a wink, I sat down and accepted a freshly buttered piece of bread.  Vidar unfolded his plan to the group.  It was dangerous, but clever.  It was everything a good plan should be.

You wouldn’t think we were heading off to war, the way the group shifted from war planning to merry conversation.  That knowledge of looming danger never left me, with every bite of food and every smile.  That knowledge drove me.

As I let go of my instinct to run to safety and comfort, my heart fluttered.  I was in deep again and there was no turning back for me.  It wasn’t that though, nor the danger that sent my heart fluttering.  For the first time in my life I
knew
myself.  I wasn’t lost, bound, or forced.  I was exactly where I wanted to be.