"Even though the orders to retrieve her come from the queen, don't forget that Lamlag is the cause of the trouble. The one who captures her gets to put the first ten stripes on her back and gets the honor of standing beside me during the repeat of the re-naming procedure." said Drochide.
"What of the green freak?" somebody asked
"Kill it," said Drochide. He turned toward the field. "The fresher tracks go back toward the house. I want them surrounded and brought down before they can enter rabbit lands."
That removed all uncertainty from Tais' mind. Mac and Fifi were her only chance of escaping a life of servitude to Drochide and the cruel queen, and she was their only warning. She turned to run back the way she came, but stumbled in her haste, scattering pebbles into the crunchy leaf litter.
She heard Drochide's voice behind her call "Tais!" turning her visible again. He attempted to command "Tais stop!" but his words had no effect. She ran, wondering how Drochide had found out her real name.
Three arrows fell around her, and a fourth penetrated her shoulder. The point struck her scapula and stuck in her shoulder muscles. Tais sprinted away from the hunting party, concerned more about putting distance between herself and Drochide than anything else.
---
Mac squished across the big field in his soaked boots with Fifi on his shoulder. She held onto his head with her face buried in his hair. She was still scared after her encounter with the queen and in no mood to let go.
"Mac! Fifi!" called Tais from some distance behind them. Mac turned around to see Tais running toward them. The pale elf stood out easily in the dark field. She stopped and steadied herself against Mac's knee. He looked down to see the small arrow sticking out of her back. He got down on one knee.
"Turn around," he said.
"No. Time. Drochide. Coming," gasped the elf. She staggered. Mac noticed a bit of silver liquid smeared in the grass at her feet. He picked the elf up. Her back was sticky.
"What happened? And who is Droch-his-face?" he asked.
"Elves. Run!" said Tais. Her mouth sounded dry.
"Can you hold onto me?" Mac asked. Tais didn't say anything, but wrapped her legs around his waist and held onto his neck. He set off at a brisk, but smooth pace that soldiers use to carry heavy loads for many miles. The two little women gradually shifted around so that Tais was riding in front and Fifi rode on Mac's upper back.
As they crossed the field the moon rose, reflecting white on Tais' hair and skin. It seemed much longer than in the daylight. Perhaps it was the added weight, perhaps fatigue. Mac was concerned that if whoever lost her blood trail they would just have to look for the glow in the dark elf.
He was correct.
"Ow!" Mac felt a sharp pain in the back of one leg. He put his hand to it and pulled out the little skewer-like arrow. It had penetrated no more than a quarter inch, but still hurt. He turned around to see who shot him. Four little gray people similar to Tais advanced, though none shone in the moonlight like her. Their pallid gray faces were frozen in expressions of cruel purpose, as if their life's work was to make others suffer. They were all clad in crudely made leather armor. The one who seemed to be their leader advanced more boldly than the rest. His eyes were like smoldering coals set deep in his face. They flickered orange within a black void, as if the moon refused to shine on his eyes. Tais hid her face in Mac's chest.
"You have someone of mine, human," said the little man. Two females broke from the group and vanished into the grass on either side, obviously trying to encircle the three friends. Mac put his rolled up pants and Fifi's tools down.
"Call what you think is yours. Otherwise leave. Your arrows barely scratch me," said Mac. He knew that the little gray man had no need to talk to him if he could call Tais. What he didn't know was the right amount of time to stall. Take too long and the hunters would have them trapped, take too little time and not think of something.
"You are nobody to tell me to call or not call. I give the orders here. You do as I say or die," said the gray man, not angrily, but in a cold, amused way, as if he would enjoy inflicting the punishment more than having his orders followed. The little man made a small gesture with one finger. Two arrows came from the grass on either side and struck Mac mid-thigh of both legs. They didn't penetrate deeply, but it was the sharpest double charlie horse Mac had ever received.
"Looks like you want a fight, little man," Mac said and lowered Tais. She turned unsteadily on her wobbling legs to face the gray man.
"I won't let you hurt him," Tais said. She was brightly pale. Mac wondered if she had lost too much blood. Fifi dropped to the ground and rolled into the grass with her tool apron.
"Kill him," said the gray man.
Two more arrows came out of the bushes, but they vanished into silvery-white streaks that did no more to Mac than the moonlight, which was getting unusually bright. Or was it Tais-light? The little elf was shining like a full moon. The gray man shielded his eyes and backed away.
"Drochide, return to your own camp!" said Tais.
"Only the queen commands me," said the little gray man named Drochide. But he didn't add a threat at the end.
"Go!" shouted Tais. Drochide stumbled, but regained his footing, as if resisting a strong wind.
From somewhere to the right they heard a little yelp, but the voice was unfamiliar. It was followed by sounds of struggle, then one of Drochide's hunters sprang out of the grass, unarmed and running as if pursued. A puncture wound in her lower back bled profusely.
"Now I have a bow!" said Fifi from somewhere in the grass.
"You should run," said Mac.
"You should die," said Drochide. He took a stone headed spear from his rear guard and advanced purposefully. An arrow came out of the grass directly at him, but he deflected it with a deft flick of the spear. "Go kill the freak. These two are mine," The rear guard and the wounded hunter both drew obsidian knives and slipped into the grass.
"You just sent them to their deaths," said Tais.
"Your little half breed friend is no match for two of my hunters."
---
Fifi hid in the branches of a bushy maple sapling armed with a sharp little screwdriver. The two hunters advanced abreast, each picking along a little rabbit trail to avoid rustling the grass. They passed her position, one on each side. Unless she moved she would have to take her eyes off one of them, which would allow an opportunity to go invisible. She chose to watch the one who was not limping. He passed within a few inches of the maple.
Fifi saw her opening just below his last rib. She pushed off the trunk of the maple like a swimmer or a coiled spring with all her force concentrated on the point of the screwdriver. Her lunge rustled the branches of the maple.
"Between us!" shouted the wounded hunter from behind her. Too late. Fifi stabbed her target with all her force, and even felt a little pop in the screwdriver handle as the tip punctured the hunter's kidney. He seemed to fold in half as he fell with his body instinctively curling against the penetration. Fifi withdrew the screwdriver and stabbed his eyeball as he turned to look at what hit him. The tip of the screwdriver sparked when it hit his eye and cracked the obsidian like glass. Fifi jumped into the grass and ran along a rabbit trail leaving the screaming elf behind.
---
Mac smiled grimly at Drochide.
"Sounds like one of yours. Looks like its two against three." said Mac.
"More like two against two," said Drochide. He lunged forward. Mac felt a stabbing pain in his lower back and reacted instinctively, turning and throwing his fist at whatever stabbed him. They got him from behind, but he would at least make them work for it. Tais was thrown aside by the sudden movement. Mac felt his hand connect with something hard and brittle, and another stabbing pain struck him in the side just above his hip. Mac collapsed to his knees. Drochide pulled the spear point from Mac's body and thrust the point in front of his face.
"This is what kills you, human," he said. But Drochide didn't know he was dealing with a broken soldier who still believed in going down fighting. Mac hit Drochide on the side of his head with a hook which sent the little elf sprawling onto the ground. Mac crawled on his hands and knees to where Tais landed. She was still conscious, but weak.
"Lay with me," said Tais.
"No, we have to get Fifi and run before they kill us," said Mac.
The two hunters who had pursued Fifi emerged from the grass nearby. One was holding his face which was dark with blood. Neither looked like they had the will to fight. They looked at Mac, then limped away toward the forest. Fifi didn't emerge after them. Mac was enraged. He jumped to his feet, wincing from his wounds.
"I'm not done with you two miserable fucks!" He charged at them, punching wildly. The one with the wounded face didn't have the depth perception to dodge, so he was hit by one of Mac's rage punches and crumpled to the ground. He grabbed the other by the head and shouted into her face.
"Where is she? If you killed her I'm going to pop your head like a zit and smear you all over the forest! Answer!"
The elf gibbered senselessly as Mac slowly increased pressure on her little skull.
"Mac! I'm fine!" shouted Fifi from somewhere behind him.
Mac let go and shifted from a shout to the kind of low growl that only NCOs and movie villains can master. "Get out of my face." The little gray elf limped away as fast as she could manage. Mac slowly returned to where Tais lay with Fifi standing over her.
