He was glad when the time came to go. He left a note on the table for his father rather than say good-bye to him, and he climbed the steps to the wall lightly, even though he was somewhat laden down.
The sun was shining on the other side of the wall. Only one of Elliot’s bags went on fire, and he disposed of it behind a tree because it seemed bad guest behaviour to bring a lovely fire for the whole family to share. There was a distressing smell of melting plastic, but Elliot elected to ignore it.
The wood was like a green net of light, leaves capturing the sunshine and leaving it to blanket the grass. One of Luke’s dogs, Culaine, came racing through the sunny dust toward him.
Elliot knelt down and fondled his ears. “Hey,” he said. “Do you remember me?”
Culaine tried to lick his face, which seemed very familiar and indicated to Elliot that he did.
“I think you must be unusually intelligent for a canine,” Elliot observed. “Who’s unusually intelligent for a canine? Is it you? Yes you are!”
He patted his head a final time and stood up, looking around a bit warily to see if anyone had seen him being silly with a dumb animal. But there was nobody there, and Culaine danced at his heels all the way to the Sunborn tower.
He pushed open the door to the hall, then wandered into the kitchen and almost tripped over Rachel Sunborn lying prone on the floor.
“Oh my God!” said Elliot.
Rachel opened her eyes a slit. “Aw, welcome,” she said. “I was just catching a quick nap on the floor. There’s so much work on with the whole trial.”
“Trial?” asked Elliot.
“Luke didn’t tell you?”
“He said there was a—” Elliot made a gesture with the tape deck, which was excitingly and totally intact. “Big thing. It wasn’t illuminating.”
“Strong silent type, my lad,” said Rachel. “Well, don’t worry about it, you don’t have to participate. I just have to set up some obstacle courses and hang some bunting and so on.”
“Have you been doing it all morning?” Elliot asked, appalled.
“Well, no, to tell you the truth I had breakfast and then got a bit overcome by the thought of all the work to be done and had a kip in the sun instead,” Rachel said. “If I went outside Michael might find me and make me do something. Put down your things, kiddo, and give me a kiss.”
Elliot put down some of his bags on the big tabletop and knelt down, then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, near her pink-painted mouth. She smelled like grass and perfume. He hesitated as he did it—he’d never kissed a mother-type person before, and he wasn’t certain that she wasn’t making a joke, that she didn’t really mean him to—but she didn’t seem to be joking. She patted his hair with her heavily ringed hand, and he hoped she had not felt him tremble.
“What have you got there, lad?”
“Oh,” Elliot said, scrambling to his feet. “You’ll like it, I promise. It’s a tape deck. I brought tapes for it. I brought some Beatles, and Joe says the Sex Pistols are really good too.”
Rachel laughed. “Love the name.”
Elliot selected a tape at random and put it in the tape recorder. “I super apologise if there is a fire,” he said, and pressed play.
Tinny and small, the music began to play, singing an urge to dance. Rachel sat up on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. “Oh, look at that, it’s a minstrel in a box.”
“Yes, exactly!” Elliot said enthusiastically, and then looked up at a sound in the hall to see Cavall bounding in, Serene and Luke clattering in after him, looking rumpled and sun-warm. Elliot beamed and beckoned to them. “Guys,” he called. “Come see.”
They came in, both grinning, though Serene looked slightly worried.
“Why is the box telling us to dance?” she asked, and came over to give him a hug. Elliot was stunned to find he was actually slightly taller than she was. “Is it a command we must obey, or a geas?”
“Yes,” Elliot decided, and grabbed her hands. A certain amount of scuffling followed. “Why are you trying to lead?”
Serene stared at him. “Why are you?”
“Fair enough,” Elliot decided, and let Serene take charge, her steps guiding his.
Serene frowned, her face very close to his and sweetly concerned. “Do you want a turn?”
Elliot rubbed his nose against hers. “I don’t mind, as long as I’m dancing with you.”
“I admit I’m rather an expert. My name can be found on every boy’s dance card back home,” said Serene, and instantly Elliot knocked into Luke, who was hovering. Luke tried to save them both and ended up tripping over his mother, and then everyone was on the floor but Serene, who leaned somewhat smugly against the wooden counter. “Elves have a certain natural grace,” she added.
Elliot glanced at Luke, who nodded, and Elliot held up three fingers, then folded them quickly down one by one, counting down until the moment each of them grabbed one of her legs and brought her crashing to the ground.
Everyone was laughing by then.
“Do you hear it,” said Elliot. “Isn’t it great? I am bringing technology to the Border. Next step, the Industrial Revolution.”
“I wish you would not start a revolution,” Luke contributed.
“Don’t tell me what to do, loser, I’m going to and it’s going to be awesome,” said Elliot firmly.
“When the revolution comes,” Luke said, “I am still not going to wear the funny clothes from the weird world.”
They all looked at Elliot’s clothes.
Elliot glanced down at his Pink Floyd T-shirt and jeans. “I am wearing totally normal clothes. Plus my T-shirt is cool and retro.”
“Luke’s right, it is a little provocative,” said Serene. “Not that I wish to question or shame you. You should wear whatever clothing you feel most comfortable in. Being comfortable in yourself is the best way to be attractive to others.”
“Firstly: thank you, you’re as wise as you are totally gorgeous. Secondly: I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I will not be lectured on my fashion choices by a pair of fetish-gear enthusiasts.” Elliot added to the severity of this proclamation by pulling Luke’s hair. Luke batted his hand gently away.
“You’re in a good mood,” he said, smiling.
“I love revolution,” said Elliot, instead of saying something embarrassing like that he was happy to be there.
Then Elliot grabbed the kitchen counter and levered himself upright so he could fiddle with the tape deck and start the song again.
He put out a hand to help Serene up, saw Luke and Serene both reach for the hand, reconsidered and reached past them to lift Rachel to her feet. Rachel grabbed his hand, laughing, and dipped Elliot with a look over at Serene as if to check she was doing it the elven way. Elliot laughed and laughed, and spun her when she let him up, and then they both shimmied at each other, circling each other with their palms up before they linked hands again. Sunshine painted them all in warm strokes, the song told them that fantasy could never be so giving, and Elliot sang along. Luke and Serene were leaning and tapping time against the kitchen counters.
Culaine barked once, a quick warning, and Elliot looked over to see Adam and Neal Sunborn at the door, watching them. He stopped dead, letting Rachel’s hand slip from his.
“Oh, hey, boys,” said Rachel casually, and beckoned them in.
“Hi, Aunt Rachel,” said Neal, coming over to kiss her while all the time undressing Serene busily with the corners of his eyes, sly as a vicar feeling up a choir mistress in church. “Wow, Serene, you look amazing.”
Simple fact. Neal could mention it if he felt he must. Elliot knew that Serene was used to the admiration of men and it would not affect her feelings. Besides which, he was slightly distracted by Adam Sunborn. Adam was still standing in the doorway, looking at Elliot. Elliot made a face at him: he was not going to put up being teased about his Pink Floyd T-shirt by awful Adam.
“Hey,” said Adam, and grinned. “You’re never little
Elliot.”
“Have you tipped too many kids out of trees to be able to remember them all properly?” Elliot inquired, and withdrew to the counter as Adam advanced.
“What’s that?” said Rachel, her head turning sharply.
Elliot glanced at Luke. Elliot loved tattling on people. He thought it was amazing fun, and if people were dumb enough to put Elliot in a position where he could get them into trouble by opening his mouth, they deserved what they got. The code of not telling tales was the usual stuff where stronger people tried to impose their rules on weaker people so they could get away with everything. But Luke really believed in it, and this was his house, his mother, his cousins. Elliot had promised himself that he was going to be nice to Luke now Luke was his friend.
“Haha,” said Elliot unconvincingly. “Just a boyish lark, or whatever.”
“Yeah, I didn’t mean anything by it, and no harm done, right?” Adam asked. He had crept up on Elliot somehow: Elliot hated all people with warrior training. “Wow, you’ve changed.”
“I haven’t,” Elliot said flatly. “Just taller. Still extremely annoying.”
Adam laughed as if Elliot were making a joke, as if Elliot wanted to joke around with awful Adam. “I like your shirt.”
“Oh, that’s mature and intelligent,” said Elliot.
Mocking someone’s clothes in front of a mother. Well, it was about what Elliot expected of those two.
Fortunately Luke’s dad came in, and Adam and Neal had to follow him around like terriers yapping for a bigger dog’s approval, while Michael’s actual son gave him a nod which Michael returned because they seemed to have a silent understanding. Elliot had possibly heard them exchange two words ever, but he was pretty confident that Michael would drop Adam and Neal in vats of boiling oil rather than let anyone harm a hair of Luke’s head, so he figured Michael’s priorities were in order. Louise came in with her dad and said, “Little Red, you got so big!” and Elliot had to attend to the important business of showing her the tape deck.
After dinner Elliot sat in a window seat away from the main gathering on the cushioned chairs in the parlor. Louise and her dad were telling a war story, while Neal whispered sweet nothings to Serene and she looked amused.
Adam offered to fetch Elliot a drink, as if Elliot had not got wise to the whole spitting in a drink and handing it to someone when he was five. Elliot called in reinforcements and beckoned Luke over.
“Come sit,” he ordered. “Protect me from your cousin.”
“He’s not exactly fearsome,” said Luke, but he sat willingly enough and kicked up his legs, boots propped against the other side of the frame, so his whole body formed a barrier between Elliot and possible Sunborn cousin incursions.
“Why are they here again?” Elliot asked.
“They have to be here, for the thing,” said Luke.
“Strangely, your wildly unspecific words convey no information to me.”
“Oh, it’s like a trial?” said Luke. “For Sunborns? It’s a family thing. We have obstacle courses and tourneys, and there’s banners, and afterwards there’s a big celebration.”
“Ugh,” said Elliot.
“I know, parties,” Luke commiserated.
“I more meant all the physical exertion,” said Elliot. “But your mum says I don’t have to participate.”
“No, you can’t,” said Luke. “It’s for Sunborns. Also, no offence, you’d be killed.”
“No offence taken. I don’t want to participate in your horrible sounding family rituals. I also think it’s creepy that your family has private bonding rituals with bunting.”
“Calling my family rituals creepy is a bit offensive.”
Elliot waved a hand dismissively. “Well, I’m sad your cousins are here. Your cousins are the worst.”
“They’re not the best,” said Luke, which Elliot decided meant he agreed and he hated them too. “What are you reading?”
“A troll history written by one of their preeminent scholars. Did you know that trolls are naturally a very peaceful people?”
Luke found this difficult to believe, and had some purely anecdotal story of a troll trying to pull his head off and seemed to believe that proved something. Elliot disagreed vehemently.
“You are wrong and stupid and wrong about everything,” Elliot said. “Someone save me from this conversation.”
“Hi,” said Adam.
“Do you mind?” said Luke.
“Get lost,” Elliot told him.
“Oh, hey, reading again?” asked Adam, as if a) he knew Elliot at all, b) it was a funny hobby like compulsively making papier-mache rabbits, and c) Adam was being indulgent about it. “What’s the book?”
Elliot smiled at him charmingly. “Oh, it’s a great book, it’s called None of Your Business by I’m Not Going To Tell You.”
“This is a private conversation,” Luke added.
Elliot tapped Luke approvingly on the knee with his ballpoint pen. Adam eyed the object as if it were a tiny firework. Elliot still refused to use quills like everyone else because he found them inefficient and personally upsetting. Nobody understood. He had tried to share his awesome stash of office supplies from the other world, but Serene claimed she had an allergy to plastic, Myra had poked herself in the eye with a Sharpie, and the one time Elliot had felt pleased enough with Luke to award him a pen, Luke kept it like a souvenir rather than ever actually trying to use it.
“What,” Elliot said, as Adam finally backed off, “is wrong with that guy?”
Adam was a real problem. Neal was also dreadful, but at least didn’t bother Elliot directly. He seemed to be invested in staring at Serene with his mouth open. Because Serene was sadly susceptible to flattery from pretty boys and did not wish to be discourteous or hurt fragile male hearts, she permitted him to waylay her and ply her with compliments all the time. Adam, in contrast, was constantly underfoot. Elliot supposed Adam was lonely but did not see why that had to be his problem.
His attempts to make Adam Luke’s problem instead were only partially successful, on account of Luke was a monster.
“Take him away,” Elliot said when Adam invited himself along to an outing with Luke, Elliot, and the dogs. “Play a sport with him!”
“Play a sport?” Luke repeated.
“Yes!” said Elliot. “You know you love a sport.”
“Why are you sending me away? How is that fair?” Luke demanded.
Elliot stared at him. “Send you away from what? You big baby,” he said severely. “What’s so great about this grove? Let me tell you, you can get trees and grass literally anywhere. Take him to another grove, it will be just as good.”
Serene had the kindest and sweetest heart in the world, so she offered a solution.
“I have noticed that when I wear shirts that bare more skin, human boys become quite obviously distracted.”
Elliot would never have asked her to do such a thing, but he was deeply touched when she did. Unfortunately for his plan of sneaking away from the Adam menace, Adam did not seem particularly distracted. Neal walked right into a door, though, and that brightened everybody’s day. Adam had to tend to him as well, and so that did take him away for a while.
Elliot raised his arms in victory, king of all the grove he surveyed and not bothered by the annoying and unwelcome. “Concussions are hilarious! Concussions are the best!”
Serene and Luke, lying in the grass with the dogs, mumbled protests, but Elliot knew they agreed really. They spent the day using Elliot’s camera to take pictures. Serene looked beautiful in every single one, Luke managed to accidentally take an up-the-nostril shot of himself, and Elliot decided to save them all.
In spite of Adam, the summer was nice. Until more and more Sunborns started arriving, and talking about the trials, and a joust, and lances, and bows and arrows and riding and who had broken bones last time and then mentioned poor Harry Sunborn, dead before his time, but it was the way he would’ve wanted to go. That was when the full horror of
the situation burst upon Elliot.
“Are you telling me this is a huge dumb competition to pick the best Sunborn?” he demanded.
“Our champion,” said Luke, frowning.
“And people die because of a pissing contest?” Elliot further demanded. “Are you kidding me? Is this a joke?”
Luke frowned. “Well, the contest doesn’t have anything to do with—”
“Don’t be nervous,” said Adam, slinging an arm around Elliot’s shoulders.
“Don’t be handsy,” Elliot snapped, and elbowed him. He did not enjoy Adam’s touchy bro ways. They were not bros.
“Hardly anybody is ever killed,” Adam continued loftily. “And they’re only held every decade, so very few Sunborns are lost to the world. Besides which, Ellie Sunborn has had long enough as both Sunborn and Trigon champion. Time for the young blood to have a turn. The Sunborns want to have a hero and a new hope for every generation, and I think I’ve got a pretty good chance. Did I tell you what my arms commander said to—”
“Did I mention I don’t care,” said Elliot.
Adam was always telling them about his exploits or someone saying that he was good at some awful thing to do with weapons or him winning something and making everyone else look a fool. He was so vain.
“I agree the contest is terrible,” said Serene, and Elliot brightened until Serene continued: “I can’t believe only Sunborns can participate.”
The day of the trials was, despite all Elliot’s hopes, sunny and dry, as if the sky wanted to wave one of the Sunborn flags of gold and blue. Sunborns were camped through the woods, their tents peeking out amongst the leaves. There was nowhere to hide: there was a family living in the library. Elliot saw a Sunborn baby sucking on the edge of a tome and had to go sit down. He did not get up again until Adam appeared and Elliot had to give him the slip, claiming that he wanted to wish Luke good luck.
Elliot was sure Luke was lurking somewhere in the equipment room, being very conscientious about his gear or something. Luke was good at dealing with people, but he was also truly excellent at receding from them. Sometimes Elliot thought about Rachel calling Luke her shy boy.