Indigo: The Tylwyth Teg (Faerie Folk) Series, #2

Chapter 1

I don't know what's wrong with him, Seam said. He's been so quiet since he brought us here, and he's becoming more withdrawn with every season that passes. Indigo and Bramble felt sorry for her, but they were also at a complete loss as to what to do or say to him. Spirit knows, they'd tried, and he gave them a stock answer every time. There's a lot to be done, and plenty of time to do it in, but its still so tiring to set up a new world, he'd say, softening it with a wan smile.

Bendith, now known as Teg for so long that he'd almost forgotten who he used to be, hadn't just been the instrument of salvation, but also the driving force in settling the tens of millions of refugees from their old world. Who I used to be, he'd think to himself at times. I had so little time to be the me that I was. The Change altered more than my wings and body; did it change my destiny or simply reveal it? Best not to think on this anymore.

In the six seasons they'd been here in Tullith there'd been so much to do, and so much to be redone. The new settlers had almost unanimously settled on the name of their world, and the phonetic pronunciation of 'Tylwyth' had been the result. It was a name that was easy to say for all the species that could verbally communicate and even some of the species, like cricket, cicada, and frog, that relied on vibration or drumming could make a passable sound of it. To differentiate the man from the place, Tylwyth, once known as Bendith, became known to all as Teg.

In the weeks after they'd first arrived there was excitement and relief everywhere, and many adventurers spilled out of Indigo Path in the search for new horizons. We were all delighted to discover that while the Butterfly had perished from our old lands, they were here in the new lands in abundance. It wasn't quite the paradise many had expected, though. Tullith was not an unpopulated land, and the refugees had been brought here in desperation, because they had nowhere else to go. That, and the Violet River had called Teg to bring them here where its underground tributary surfaced once more. To the North, the settlements of Indigo and Orchid Valley Ring had been established. To the East there were Orange Jessamin, the new seat of the Sprite Kingdom, and Chain Mountain Ring and several of its Raths and Ley. To the South, Ancient Oak became a village, and then a township, and soon enough, a sprawling city. Nearby, Butterfly Caves attracted the artists and scribes who worked their art in the fine dust and huge colour palettes that shimmered and glistened in the air whenever their hosts, the Butterfly, moved. In return for the gift of colour dust from their wings, the Butterfly were feted with fruits and nectar of all descriptions. To the West, Violet River Ring was born, even though it was a long way from Violet River itself, and many other settlements had grown or were popping up in all directions and locations, except one. Surrounding the Four Directions was the Forbidden.

In the story of Tullith, one must mention the building of Tylwyth's Wall, a monumental task that had taken seasons to complete. It wasn't only a massive engineering undertaking, but it was also an enormously magical one, too. As the Wall was built, ley lines of powerful dimensions were laid down, so powerful that even some of the species here that were used to Faerie magic had trouble being in the vicinity. To be too close would cause temporary memory loss, and sometimes the loss of control over their inner navigation systems.

In the early days after their arrival, when everyone was busying themselves with regrouping and finding new lives for themselves, Teg had vanished for several days. In mind contact with his family and friends, he assured them he was alright, and that his work wasn't over yet; he was, as he said, Securing the perimeter, although no one, perhaps not even Teg himself, knew exactly what that meant.

All of the magic that had been discovered and invented once the Arcane Book in the Tales Of Our Fathers had been opened to a broader readership was now being put to good use, but it was only Teg who understood that it still had many weaknesses and limitations. Those of the Three Civilisations went about laying down their magic, which in many cases was much stronger than their earlier incantations, but it was Teg, always alone and often at night, who then put his left hand over the new ley lines and Rings and energised them far beyond what any thousand could otherwise have done. Indeed, the ley lines along Tylwyth's Wall were powerful because he had made them so. What no one knew, not even Seam, was that the Violet River was not done with Teg, not by a long way. It called to him, sometimes softly, and at other times with such force that he felt almost hypnotised by it. In the seeds of his salvation lay the seeds of his damnation, he thought, and so for as long as he could he resisted the call of the River.

What's wrong with me? Teg replied when Seam asked him late one night. Now, there's a question! Would you like the list by number, alphabet, or category? he said, smiling. There's one big thing that plays on my mind a lot, and it's that my job isn't done yet. Getting here was the easy part compared to everything that's come after. It's not the work; we all know that's necessary. It's the time it keeps me away from you. I remember that conversation, even though we had many like it. Seam: I loved her like no other, and the seasons had increased that feeling. How well I recall us sitting there, her on my lap and with an arm around my shoulder. She really felt that somehow she hadn't measured up as a wife and friend, and as the mother of our child, but she couldn't have been more wrong.

Can I tell you the very first thing I think about when the sun comes up? I said. She smiled a little and nodded. I think that Spirit has given me another day with you in my life. She loved hearing that, and she knew I meant it, but she also liked being reminded of it. If your smile was any broader the top of your head would fall off, I said, reminding her of our time in Akasha's Cave, when we were back in the old world. Okay, that's actually the second thing, after 'I need to pee', but it's a close second, I said, fending her off as she tried to tickle and then bite me. The thing is, it was true, about her being in my life and not about the peeing thing.

Sometimes I get so tired of all of this. We have a new world to stretch out in and we can do or be anything we want, but so many are stuck in the mindset of ten generations ago. No matter what we have or what we discover, there are so many who seem devoted to living a malcontent life. They wear me down at times. Some think that just because some things used to take a lot of time that the same is true for us, but with all this new magic floating in the air a lot of the old beliefs just aren't true anymore. The past is pushing us forward, and the future is pulling us onward, I said. Seam nodded her agreement. I miss you sometimes, she said, pausing for a few seconds before adding: Except when you're here getting under my feet. Now it was my turn to tickle and bite her.

Can't you two find a room somewhere? said Thimble, as she landed on our deck. Well, I found a whole world, so I think that sort of counts for something, I said. Thimble was a surprise package. She'd always been such a boyish little thing. If there were a fight, she'd be in it, and probably because she started it. If there were trouble, she'd be there with the tip of her sword to quell it. And if there was Indigo, she'd be there for everything. Ah, our daughter's personal bodyguard and handmaiden, I said. Well met, little sister! Please, come in and have a seat, I said, a second after she'd already sat down. How's Cotton? asked Seam. Thimble rolled her eyes toward Spirit. Honestly, you'd think she was the only one to have ever carried triplets! said Thimble, a look of exasperation clearly written on her face. Well, actually, and now that you mention it, Cotton is the only one to ever have carried triplets, I said. It was true. Nowhere in all the Tales had there been mention of more than one child being carried at a time. Bear in mind, too, that she's already had two. Sometimes I wonder what you two get up to at night, but then I feel a little nauseated at the thought, I grinned. How a charming girl like Cotton could have settled for you I'll never know. At first I thought it might have been temporary blindness, and then I thought it might be insanity. It was one of the things I felt was genuinely brilliant about being a Faerie. Sure, we did the whole 'bump and grind' thing, but that didn't cause pregnancies. Only deep and abiding love causes that, and these two had it.

Indigo's entrance probably saved me from being skewered by Thimble. Aunty Thimble! she squealed. Yes, hi to you, too, Sweetie, said Seam. Indigo grinned as broadly as her mum had. You're my parents; it's my job to ignore you, she said. In that case, Thimble owes you six seasons of pocket nectar, I said. Indigo had come ahead in leaps and bounds, and not all of it in a good way. She was different, not only in looks but in her grasp of concepts well beyond her seasons. Thimble was good for her because, as odd as it may appear to those who didn't know her well, Thimble was actually a very steadying force.

Of course, when books were written about how to be a complete lunatic, Thimble would be the poster girl and main reference, but underneath the outward show she was sincere, funny, fiercely loyal and protective, and caring. She had assumed the role of Indigo's mentor a season before anyone else understood the nature and extent of her specialness, and while Thimble could be funny and a total maniac at times, she was also a brilliant role model for an emerging and inquisitive mind. Question it all; question everything! she'd say, Otherwise how are we ever going to change anything?

Seam and I excused ourselves. We had a day to ourselves and we were determined to extract every bit of goodness out of it that we could. I was happy that she'd never lost her sense of wonder at our new world. There were so many things here that were strange to us, and we both delighted in discovering them or seeing them again. The local people had embraced us upon our arrival, and we found their customs interesting. Where we would greet with Cymru am byth! they would greet with Life calls to life! What we found surprising was that in this new world, which was much larger than our old one, the population was so small. The reason was simple: where we had built up villages, townships, and cities, the local people here had remained as fairly independent farmers tending family plots inside tiny Rings, Forts, and Leys. Their population grew slowly, whereas ours had blossomed simply because so many of us lived in built-up areas.

Many of our number had decided to invest themselves in quieter and smaller lives similar to those of our new brothers and sisters, and for many this was a good thing. Some people feel smothered even in a village, and they yearn for peace and simplicity. In our old world it was received wisdom, unquestioned and unchallenged for generations, that this was a poor choice. At the time, the reasons seemed sound, but looking back on them many now seem absurd. Of course, some of the original inhabitants loved joining a larger congregation, and soon enough friendship and marriage meant we were inter-mingling. Some few didn't fit in, but they were often of a type that didn't fit in anywhere. Fortunately, outbreaks of stupidity were uncommon, and those that emerged tended to be dealt with at the same level they occurred at.

How well I remember our first major problem with some of the locals. A band of children, their parents too incompetent and unwilling to raise their children to be anything more than dung, were let loose in a small flower reserve where tiny native Bees had the colony. Stingless, the native Bees had no means to defend themselves against the horrific attack of those awful spawn, with the result that many Bees were tortured and exhausted to death before their hive was attacked and destroyed. We knew nothing of it until one of the many parent's present came running to us, screaming for help from an attacking swarm of larger Bees. Those large Bees can sting, even though in doing so it kills them. One sting can fell an adult Faerie; two are usually fatal. We saw Faerie children lying dead on the ground with as many as twenty stings each, and the place littered with the bodies of dead and dying Bees.

Crowds of gawkers gathered, as they inevitably do when tragedy happens, and again as gawkers do, they were not there to help but to entertain themselves with the misery of others, collecting details for the interesting story they'd later tell family and friends who missed all the action.

In the Tales Of Our Fathers there is a whole section that deals with this kind of vermin, instructing those of us who are normal that some Folk cannot have their better nature appealed to because they have no better nature. In the way of species, some inside it are born vermin, and they will live out their lives, dying as they were born. Better for them that they were not born? Not from their limited perspective, but from that of the normal Folk, unquestionably so.

Bamboo was not the first on the scene, but he was the first of our Super-Changed kind, and in the retelling I wished it had been someone else. Bamboo is quiet, kind, and thoughtful, not given to fits of any extreme, but what he saw there sickened him. The parents of the affected children were up in arms, loudly bleating that their children were just having a little fun, being children when all of a sudden a swarm of killer Bees descended and attacked. Those parents were demanding justice when what they meant was vengeance, and their blood was fairly up. There was wild talk of burning Hives and poisoning honeycombs.

The sky darkened, as if a cloud had wandered into the space between the group and the sun. Panicked screams went up and Folk scrambled as the dark cloud came nearer and revealed itself to be a huge swarm of Bees, led by their Queen. This was serious, and Bamboo flew up to meet them. He stopped in front of the advancing air force, and in the flight path of the Queen. Whole sections behind her broke away, and it seemed their intention was to surround him. Grabbing a small piece of pollen from his pocket, he threw it high and with magic changed it into a burst of golden energy that fell as dust on the Queen and her guard. They slowed and then stopped right before him. He came to the Queen, arms open, and touched his face to her antennae. She sensed him, and then she transmitted to him flashing images of what had really occurred below. His eyes turned white with tears as he saw unruly Faerie children slaughter the helpless Bees while their parents laughed and joked or turned a blind eye. He transmitted images of his own back to the Queen, and in reply her antennae softly hugged him around the neck while she rubbed her face against his. She then turned her swarm around and led them home.

On the ground once more, Bamboo asked all the parents and surviving children to gather together, for he had something of import to tell them. A large group gathered, and more than could be accounted as being in the first group; the rest were persistent gawkers, intent on missing nothing of today's top story. Anyone who was not here at the time of the incident, please leave now, he called. No one left, or made as if to leave. This seems like a rather larger crowd than reported. I will ask again, but not a third time, for those who are merely curious to leave now. Still, no one moved. Very well, if that's how you'd have it, he said. He rubbed the side of his face where the Queen had nestled him, removing the pollen that had been transferred. He looked down at it thoughtfully before tossing it into the air and invoking his spell. The pollen glittered spectacularly before exploding into a larger volume, and each speck of it raced to the forehead of a person who was in the group. None were missed. Cheers went up at the magic show, and there was laughter all around as one pointed to another, remarking on the golden glow between their eyebrows. You are marked for life, called Bamboo over the noise of the crowd. This day, and every day for the rest of your lives, every living thing that sees you will magically know what you have done, what you allowed to be done, or what you were entertained by. You are vile, uncaring, inconsiderate scum, and now I have removed the opportunity for you to hide it from the world.

Stunned silence followed, and then a rage of voices fairly lit the area up. Who are you to judge us? seemed to be the main question. Who are you to allow wholesale murder and torture, or to gloat over it as if it were carnival fare? he replied. Several people moved as if to attack him, but he stopped them, saying: An unwise move. Be sure you want to proceed with it before you make your next one. In the event, those people were ostracised wherever they went from that day forward, the civilised of all nations wanting nothing to do with uncivilised dregs. Teg, when he returned from his travels, was instantly surrounded by those on all sides who wanted to make known their horror at or support of the punishment. So, that's what I felt! he said. A wave of nausea had overtaken him at the time the torture and killings began. He felt the psychic shockwave of massive pain and death.

Taking Bamboo aside, Teg and he spoke at length, with Bamboo shaking his head vigorously and several times loudly exclaiming: I will not! Finally, Teg nodded and came back to the crowd, which had once again grown. It seems we have some newcomers. Unless you would like to stay and be part of whatever befalls these others, he said, casting a withering glance at the assembly, I recommend you leave now. The crowd dwindled considerably. He sighed audibly. For every vermin there are two gawkers, and for every gawker there is yet another vermin and its gawkers. Will we never evolve? Must we delight in the pain of others, as if a kind and benevolent Spirit has put it there for our entertainment?

He cleared his throat, the better for it to carry what he would say next. "Hear me! I have spoken with Bamboo and I have also mind-contacted the Queen of Tylwyth's Wall Hive, and I believe I have the whole story now, regardless of what lies you may try to tell to mitigate what you have done. There can be no mitigation. One hundred and seventy-eight Native Bees are dead, their home destroyed for all time. Three hundred and twelve Queen's Bees are also dead after their defence and retaliation. Twenty-seven of our own Folk, mostly the children who caused all this, are dead. Your day's fun and adventure has resulted in four hundred and thirty-seven lives lost, and most of them innocent.

There stand before me eighty-one Folk, fifty of whom are parents to now-dead children, and the balance made up of those who thought it sport to stand around and delight at carnage. One gawker made as if to speak, and Teg warned her darkly with: Only speak your next word if you intend it to be your last. She kept her mouth closed. I have spoken with Bamboo and he refuses to remove his incantation. I have my own to add to it, he said, and with a wave of his hand the air around them shimmered. The truth is now upon you for all time. Those who are genuinely sorry will find the golden dot has vanished from their brow, he said. Everyone looked at everyone else, seeking confirmation. Only two were now free. Leave, he said tersely. "The rest of