Chapter 17
In a neutral land of the Lore called the Toxic Vale sat the latest destination of the Circle of Prudence. High up on a prominent escarpment, under prevailing dark clouds that were kept unsettled by softly moaning breezes, a dozen fae had gathered. The Circle pavilion, made of gold-veined white marble, elegant with its tall pillars and high circular dome, was a stark contrast to its surroundings. The land it sat on was barren except for patches of grass that the bedrock allowed, and offered a panoramic view of the green and orange scrublands far below.
Nine seats of various design and size sat around an inner ring of the large pavilion structure, filled by fae elders of even wider variety than the chairs. Among the attendants were dryad Saraid of the Moon Glade, troll Cadell Arms-Caller, and sprite Egon Soulsinger. They and the other six elders spoke in hushed tones until the commencement was to begin. Just beyond the pavilion stood three fae who waited to be judged and titled, if all went well.
Standing between the other two aspirants, Fergal lifted his head and inhaled deeply through his large nose. "Now I know why it's called Toxic Vale," he rasped quietly. "This place reeks."
"It only be havin' a stench that yer oversized snout could catch, morpher," said Vaughn from Fergal's right. "That's not why they be namin' this land that ta begin with, ya chunky eejit."
"Watch your words, trickster," growled the burly, coarse-haired fae. "I'm just saying that the name fits the odor."
Before Vaughn could offer another casual insult, Oriana leaned in from Fergal's left and said with a gentle whisper, "Can you not tell with just your nose, good morpher?" The trivial topic was a diversion from her melancholy thoughts. She thought it a shame that a Circle gathered for only one subject at a time; to speak in the defense of Ballaghadaere would take a completely separate assemblage of elders.
"Ha!" interjected Vaughn as he leaned forward and glanced at her. "A badger-fae, this one is. Just as his namesake be, his sight be shite, and those wee pointy ears catch little on the wind, I tell ya." He caught Fergal's scowl. "Now don't be takin' on so," he said airily to the increasingly riled morpher, "I'm meanin' no offense, and just be sayin' how the facts lay. Yer grand honker more than makes up fer lack o' other senses, common included."
Oriana took a moment and let the tense moment linger before she said, "There are no birds riding the currents, nor is there wild cattle grazing in the valley below. They stay clear of this land, Fergal, for nearly every plant is poisonous in one fashion or another. That is why it is so named the Toxic Vale. Had you thought of it, you would have realized that your keen sense of smell already told you everything I just said. Take heart; I'm sure you would have known the dangers of this land before most."
Fergal, who stood almost a foot shorter, looked up at Oriana with a proud bearing from the placating words and nodded at her assessment. Vaughn saw the morpher's reaction to the comely sprite's buttery words; with a grin, he rolled his eyes and looked away.
An elder merrow - aquatic fae, cousin to the Fair race - approached the three aspirants from within the assembled Circle. The elder was tall, in a short-sleeved white robe over pastel green skin, long seaweed hair with goatee, and angular features. He stood motionless and regarded the three. After an uncomfortable silence, he slowly said, "The Circle will hear your petitions now. Who shall be first?"
Both Oriana and Fergal glanced at Vaughn, knowing he had made most of the effort to gather elders. The leprechaun saw the morpher and sprite look his way out of the corner of his eye, but continued to face the merrow elder and said, "Now that I gathered the Circle together, I'm in no elemental hurry. Even though I'll not be havin' the morpher's grand ugly nose, I can still be smellin' the eagerness - besides other foul odors - comin' off the daft bugger in waves, I can. Fergal should go first, mostly so I can stop breathin' through me mouth."
The elder nodded, and then turned to retake his seat. Fergal leaned near Vaughn and snarled before he made his way to the center of the pavilion.
As Oriana looked around the desolate plateau, she let a crooning wind die out before she said, "I thank you for that."
Vaughn looked over at her, confused. "Fer what?"
Turning to him with a serene expression, she gazed at the acerbic leprechaun with her huge amber eyes and replied, "Your words angered Fergal. His mental defenses, although suspect to begin with, faltered when you provoked him. It allowed me to retrieve some very intriguing information." She saw the surprise on his face, and so asked, "Was that not your intent?"
Vaughn smirked and shook his head. "That was me just bein' me, lass. You be makin' it sound as if we already be in league. That I be knowin' of', I've never crossed paths with ye before."
"True, we have not met, although I believe we have mutual affiliations and interests."
"What are ye goin' on about? What affiliations?"
Oriana straightened her long coat and clasped her hands together. "Are you not friends with the Fair fae named Macklin?"
"Macklin?" Vaughn said with evident surprise. "I'd not be thinkin' the lad be gettin' about that much to be havin' his name passed around. And I be thinkin' 'friends' might be a strong word."
"Whatever word you might choose," Oriana replied softly, "he thinks well of you. As for his socializing, Macklin has met a number of fae recently; some renowned fae, actually. He and I have never actually met, I admit, but I was in a position to glean many thoughts from his open mind. Forgive my assumption, good leprechaun, but since Macklin thought of you fondly, and also because you aided the human Jane McCarthy, I was under the strong impression that we share some common goals."
Vaughn planted his fists on his hips and said with a scowl, "Now look here, the last I be seein' o' that fool fae is when I be openin' a gate so he could go be tendin' ta that gifted lass. And never you be mindin' how I be knowin' where ta send him. Tis not like we be chummin' up and harvestin' glamour together, now is it? I'll not be knowin' what yer goals be, nor do I think I'll be wantin' ta. You'll not be aware of me own goals in any event."
Oriana slightly bowed her head. "You are correct; I do not know your motives for a certainty. Your defenses are strong, and I could glean nary a thought from you. However, your aura has given me further clues. Your disdain of Fergal is evident. That, coupled with your recent activities, has led me to fairly clear conclusions." She shifted her hands behind her and clasped them again. "Why did you not attempt to test my own mental defenses? I would have allowed you access if you had done so."
Vaughn leaned forward with a ready retort, but then hesitated. He clamped his mouth shut and decided to take the sprite up on her offer. After a few moments had passed, he asked, "Yer own grand walls wouldn't let me be seein' much... but I'll be recognizin' that ye let me be havin' a peek." He tipped his bowler hat to her and then asked, "Who be the fae named Enochia? And why do ya be allowin' me glimpses of humans I be knowin' nothin' of?"
"I am here as an agent of Enochia. Along with others, we stand against the coming attack of Saraid's war party. Some of the humans I let you see are fae-gifted, just as Jane McCarthy is. I am told they will play pivotal roles in the events to come." Oriana took a small step closer. "I do not know your mind, good Vaughn, but I do know your heart by your aura's reactions to my words. I thought you were acting on our aligned opinions when you offended Fergal."
Wanting to take the focus off himself, Vaughn tried to act nonchalant when he asked, "And what little nuggets might ye be gatherin' from his dirty mind, pray tell?"
"He has plans to plague Jane's village with misfortune before the war party arrives."
"Sly bastard," Vaughn said with a mix of respect and loathing. He then looked Oriana sternly in the eyes and said in a harsh whisper, "Ye get this straight, 'ere and now. I don't know you, now do I? I'll not be knowin' yer Enochia friend either, or any of yer rare gifted humans. I be owin' the lot o' ye exactly zilch. If that eejit Macklin be gettin' himself in a tight spot, then that's his hole ta dig, it is. And as fer the Jane girl, I'll b
e thinkin' she has her own ways ta get herself out o' a corner. I keep me self ta me self. I'll be hopin' ye fare well and all, but that be where it's endin'. Leave me out of it."
Oriana took another look at the cantankerous leprechaun's aura before she nodded her understanding. There were only a few moments of uneasy silence between them before the elder merrow came to call for the next aspirant. Vaughn immediately stomped forward as he followed the tall fae into the pavilion, which allowed Oriana to release her suppressed grin.