Unknown Elves

Part One:

126 Years Ago

Hollydale Elf Colony

Prologue

Hidden away in an ordinary Virginia forest, the elf colony of Hollydale thrives. Unseen by humans in the neighboring village, hundreds of small beings live long lives honoring the land and their ancient traditions. Their dwellings are underground, and their needs are simple.

Children are cherished. Young elves, taught by their parents and others in the colony, are encouraged to enjoy life. They love soaring on the backs of birds, splashing in the creek, climbing trees, and exploring the forest and surrounding areas. This marvelous part of their lives passes all too quickly. Young elves must think about an important decision that lies ahead: selecting their life’s work.

After a hundred summers, when they stand about as tall as daffodils, elves are considered adults and begin to choose careers in home constructing, food gathering, garment making, recycling, and other useful fields. Some heroic elves enter the Patrol, a group of trained professionals who protect and serve in countless ways, often encountering adventure and danger. Captain Prinderay leads the Patrol.

Members of the colony’s five-elf governing Council are elected for life. Olmenia, a beloved healer, is Leader of the Council. She is known for her wisdom and her love for all of Hollydale.

By nature, elves are curious and good-hearted. Friendships and family ties are strong. After they reach adulthood, they tend to be homebodies. A few venture into the village where the humans live, but most know nothing of life outside their colony.

Then one day something extraordinary happens, and the elves’ view of Hollydale and the world beyond is forever changed.

Chapter One

Arrival

The summer sun filters through the trees, splotching the forest with dark and light. Three elf-boys are enjoying the coolness of the creek, their green bodysuits wet to the knees. Their pointed shoes are piled on the bank.

Coddero points overhead. Look! An owl! That’s strange. Owls don’t usually fly in the daytime. Laughter stops, and elfin curiosity takes over.

Lancil squints into the glaring sun. It has something in its beak.

As Bolderock swings over the water on a scuppernong vine, he leans back to take a look. It’s not a mouse or chipmunk. There’s no tail.

The owl comes closer. Coddero screams, Do you see what I see?

It’s a baby! Lancil yells. An elf-baby!

An elf-baby! No! Bolderock lets go of the vine and splashes into the creek. As his head bobs up, he spits a mouthful of creek water, wipes his eyes, and scrambles onto the bank with the others. This is unbelievable!

We should do something!

But what?

The elf-boys hardly breathe as they watch the bird circle downward. Hanging from its beak is a golden-haired elf-baby wearing a white gown and a matching cap trimmed with pink rosebuds. The owl lays her on a patch of moss, and with a flutter of wings, it is gone.

The elf-boys rush to the tiny body. Bolderock gets down on his knees. She’s not moving. Is she alive?

Lancil takes the baby’s hand. Please be alive, little elf-girl. A shiver takes him by surprise. He draws his hand away and begins to sob.

Coddero says, We need help.

Bolderock hops to his feet. I’ll get Olmenia.

I’ll go with you, Coddero says. Lancil, you stay here.

No! Wait! I don’t want to be by myself with it… her. I’m going, too.

Stay here, Lancil. We can’t leave a baby all alone, Coddero argues.

At this moment, their friend Morah arrives at the creek bank. What’s going on? she asks.

Wait here with this baby, Bolderock says. We’ll be back.

What? Why?

No time! Just stay with her. We’re getting Olmenia.

Leaving the infant with the elf-girl, the others run barefooted toward the home of the healer.

Chapter Two

Olmenia

The young elves are out of breath, and their hearts are pounding when they reach Olmenia’s underground house. They kick aside the leaves piled against the trapdoor which slopes upward from the forest floor. Bolderock slams his fist against the entrance. BANG! BANG! BANG! Olmenia! Are you here? Without waiting for an answer, he throws open the door and calls again, Olmenia! We need help!

I’m here!

The elf-glow of their eyes lights their way as they run down the tunnel into her living space. The air in the small room is heavy with the scents of dried herbs, roots, and leaves.

The healer is tall for an elf-woman, standing almost eleven inches high. Her hair is gray and long; her eyes, vivid blue. Coddero looks up at her. Come quick! We need you.

There’s a baby down by the creek, Bolderock says. She’s sick.

Lancil’s voice is little more than a whisper. She’s not moving. She.… She may be dead.

A sick baby, Olmenia thinks. What might be wrong? Drowning, maybe? Strangulation? I hope not. I may be too late already. Rushing through her mind are questions she doesn’t take time to ask. Must hurry! What will I need? Must take the right medicines!

The south wall facing the tunnel is lined with shelves holding the healer’s remedies. Her hands shake as she tosses some supplies into a shoulder bag and throws on a blue shawl. Lead me to her! The young elves dash up the tunnel and out the door with Olmenia following, holding up the hem of her black dress. She wears no hat, and her hair blows behind her.

Chapter Three

Remedies

The elf-boys take Olmenia to the creek bank. Morah sits cross-legged, her dark hair falling forward as she leans over the baby. She looks up, brown eyes wide and eyebrows raised. What is going on?

Later, Bolderock says.

Morah stands and steps aside with the elf-boys, giving the healer room to work.

Olmenia asks no questions. She drops to her knees and puts her finger on the baby’s wrist. With a frown, she massages the tiny elf-girl’s chest, pressing, releasing, pressing, releasing.

A minute passes. The baby gurgles, whimpers, and makes a weak cry. The young elves breathe a quiet cheer. Yes!

Olmenia sits on the ground and lays the baby across her lap. From under her shawl, she brings her velvet bag, loosens the drawstring, and takes out containers of ancient remedies. She opens one bottle, dips her finger into a sour-smelling yellow substance, and rubs it onto the elf-girl’s tongue. The little one shakes her head, splutters, and cries again. Her blue eyes open wide.

Lancil claps his hands. Good girl!

Look at that frown, Morah says. That stuff must taste awful.

It’s not something you’d want for lunch, Olmenia answers, but it does its job.

Olmenia hands her shawl to Coddero. Take this to the creek and get one corner good and wet. Hurry!

When Coddero returns, Olmenia squeezes a bit of water onto the baby’s lips. The child flinches and swallows the droplets. Good…. Drink a bit more…. Good…. That will do for now.

Olmenia sticks her finger into another bottle, scoops out an orange blob, and puts it into the little mouth. She needs food. The tiny lips crinkle and twist.

Does that taste terrible, too? Lancil asks.

Bend down and open your mouth, Olmenia says.

Huh? Lancil backs away.

Sit down here and stick out your tongue.

I don’t want to.

Morah glares at him. Do it, Lancil. How could you argue with our Leader?

Hesitantly, Lancil sits down and opens his mouth.

Olmenia wipes the orange goop onto Lancil’s tongue. This is persimmon paste. Good, isn’t it?

He rolls the creamy substance in his mouth and swallows. Yum! Sweet!

You know I wouldn’t put anything bad into your mouth unless absolutely necessary. Olmenia chuckles, and her laugh brings relief to the worried youngsters. They relax, circle around her, and watch to see what will happen next.

The baby smacks her lips and opens them wide. Olmenia feeds her several dollops of the tasty fruit.

Ouch! Olmenia laughs. She bit me! There’s nothing wrong with her teeth. Olmenia wipes her sticky finger on the hem of her dress. All right, that’s plenty for now. She holds the baby upright and rubs her tiny back.

Burp. Burrrp.

Now, for the first time, Olmenia notices the baby’s features. Who is this child? I know all our Hollydale elves, but I have never seen this baby.

Bolderock shakes his head. We don’t know.

The youngsters describe the amazing happening which they witnessed.

Olmenia studies their young faces and sees such concern that her heart melts. I’m proud of you. You handled this well.

The elf-children grin. The baby looks a lot better, Lancil says. I thought she was nearly dead.

She was in a bad way. She’s not in the clear yet, but I think she’ll make it. Olmenia pats the baby’s tummy. Now, I’m going to ask one big favor of the four of you.

We’ll do whatever you want, Bolderock replies.

When something amazing happens, it’s only natural for any elf to want to run around spreading the word. Gracious me! I’m that way myself. When I have a bit of news, I want to tell and tell and tell. It won’t be easy, but I’m asking that you keep this story quiet for now. Tell your parents but no one else.

Yes, ma’am.

We don’t know anything about this baby. We have no idea where she came from or what she’s been through. She does not need the attention of a gawking crowd, and you know how curious we elves can be.

Coddero nods. Elves want to know about everything.

That’s right. This baby will arouse a lot of curiosity. Remember that you are to talk with your parents only. Tell them I will appreciate their silence, also.

Yes, ma’am.

Olmenia lays the baby against her shoulder, covers her with the shawl, and holds out a hand. Help me up, Bolderock. These old knees aren’t what they used to be.

Chapter Four

Wysteria

Meanwhile, in another underground home, a silver-haired elf-woman croons an ancient ballad. Her living space is neat with a rug over the dirt floor. Colorful flower seed packets decorate the walls. Wysteria climbs onto a table and reaches high above her head, attempting to hang daisies from her ceiling. The table stands unevenly, one leg shorter the others. It leans as she shifts her weight. She lowers her arms, adjusts her footing, and reaches up again. Whoooooops! she cries when she feels a wobble. She waves her arms trying to steady herself. The table rocks and then flips over. Ooooooooh! She crashes to the floor, landing on her back. One pointed slipper flies off her slender foot. She lies still. Her eyes are closed.

After some time, Wysteria opens one eye and then the other. She speaks aloud, as older elves who live alone often do. Can I move? She wills one finger to move. It does. Good! She wiggles all her fingers and her toes. Well, I’m not dead! Thank goodness for that. Inch by inch, she pulls a knee up toward her chest, lowers it, and pulls up the other. Knees work. She tries to sit up, but she can’t quite do it. Slowly, she rolls onto her stomach and tries to push herself onto her knees. She can’t do that either. On the table had been a bowl of wild grapes, plentiful in the forest. Along with the daisies, it now lies on the floor, its contents scattered. She reaches for a piece of fruit and pops it into her mouth. How I love these grapes! I won’t be hungry, and sooner or later, someone will get me off this floor. I might as well relax.

Hours later, Wysteria’s nephew Sertus arrives for a visit. He finds her lying on the floor, happily eating a grape. Great stomping stink bugs! he says in alarm.

No strong language, please.

What happened here?

I was standing on that table, and it decided to throw me off.

You were hanging your summer decorations.

Yes, and it is past time for them to be up. It’s August already. I should have had my summer open-house a month ago. The other elves look forward to my seasonal displays. My parties are a Hollydale tradition.

Yes, ma’am. Are you hurt? Let me fetch Olmenia.

No, no, no! That is not necessary. I hurt only when I try to move. Just help me up. He lifts her into a chair.

Would you please set that table up and push it against the wall? Put these grapes back in the bowl and set it the center of the table and pick up the daisies. You can put them in that jar over there. I hate for my home to look cluttered.

He does as she has asked and stays with her till evening when she shoos him away. Go home now. I’m fine. I can walk. She gets up to prove her words.

I don’t like leaving you. How do you feel? Are you hurting?

Not much. Scoot! Go home!

I’ll go if you’re sure you’re okay, but Aunt Wysteria, promise you won’t climb on that table again.

"Pish-pish! I do declare! You treat me like I’m an old elf-woman. I’m only 574."

He shakes his head and sighs. Captain Prinderay is probably still at Headquarters. I’ll drop by and ask him to check on you tomorrow.

Fine, fine! Go, now. I’m okay.

Chapter Five

Promise

On Olmenia’s straw bed in the corner of her living space, the healer nestles the baby in her arms. How wonderful to have an infant here again, she thinks. What a beautiful child she is! Olmenia strokes the golden curls and looks into the sky-blue eyes.

The old elf-woman’s face darkens. Nearly three hundred years have passed, but the memory is still clear. She sat in this very same room clinging to another tiny baby. Alynda-Hope’s hair was always dark like her father’s. Oh, Anzel, she whispers. How happy we were aboard that great ship with our baby girl. The three of us were together for one short month till the ocean took you. Washed overboard. How many times have those words echoed through the years! Alynda-Hope lost a jewel of a father before she was old enough to say his name. Olmenia tosses her head to shake off the memory. No, I can’t let thoughts of Anzel distract me now. This unknown infant needs my full attention. What is to be done about this elf-baby?

Olmenia studies the little one in her arms. It’s too soon to be certain, but the child seems to be doing well enough medically. What a horrible thing, though, for one so small to be alone without family to care for her. She has lost both her father and her mother. Those parents…. Who are they? Where did they come from, and where are they now?

Mind-boggling thoughts crowd Olmenia’s mind. I’ve sometimes wondered if there might be other elves on this side of the great ocean, but I thought those notions were hopeless daydreams. There has been no evidence… until now. Hollydale is not the only elf colony on this continent! There is another! This baby is proof, but where are those other elves? Olmenia closes her eyes and rocks the baby in her arms.

What am I going to do with you, little one? she whispers. Should I keep you here with me? A smile lights Olmenia’s wrinkled face. I’d love for you to live in this house. The very thought thrills me through and through. Having you here would be pure joy for me. Olmenia kisses the child’s forehead and tickles her tummy. Tiny hands tighten around Olmenia’s gnarled forefingers. The elf-woman grins for a moment and then shakes her head. Who am I kidding? I must be honest with myself. Keeping you here wouldn’t be fair. I’m far too old to take care of a child. What are we going to do with you, little darling?

The baby coos as Olmenia rocks her. Lullaby, my little one, night is here, and day is done. The elf-woman’s voice cracks as she attempts this well-known lullaby. The baby makes a sound something between a grunt and a chuckle. Olmenia laughs. You’re right. I can’t sing worth a squirrel’s whisker. She hums a tuneless melody and hugs the infant. It feels so good to hold this little one close, she thinks. Something about her feels comfortable and familiar. There is warmth… like a kinship.

Olmenia holds the child up and looks into her eyes. Little elf-girl, you are in a strange place, but you are among friends. I promise you this. The elves of Hollydale will do right by you. We will get you back with your family if at all possible. I give you my word.

Chapter Six

Bella

As the stars begin to peep through the trees, Olmenia tucks the baby under her shawl and walks through the forest to the underground home of Patrol Officer Itchquincher and his wife, Bella. Rapping on the trapdoor, she calls, Bella! Itch! Are you here? It’s Olmenia.

Bella opens the door. Come in and have a seat. Itch should be home soon. Round-faced and pink-cheeked, Bella is a plumpish elf about ten inches tall. She wears a green housedress with a brown hat over her sandy braids.

In the living space, four inverted flowerpots serve as stools around a table which was once a metal cake stand in some human’s kitchen. The elf-women sit down together.

The table is covered with a blue checked cloth and set for two. In the center is a bowl containing one ripe pear and a knife made from a sliver of bamboo. Let me get another plate. You’ll join us for dinner?

Thanks, Bella, but I won’t stay to eat.

Olmenia moves the shawl aside. Bella’s jaw drops when she sees what lies in Olmenia’s arms. It’s a baby! A young baby! But there have been no recent births in Hollydale.

You’re right. There have been none. I have a remarkable story to tell you.

Bella puts her elbows on the table, clasps her hands against her chin, and listens as Olmenia relates the astonishing events of the afternoon. The baby was somewhat dehydrated and in need of food. I was able to get her to drink and eat. I’d say she is in fairly good condition now.

But where did she come from?

Olmenia shrugs and shakes her head. That question has knocked me for a loop. We’ve known of no other elves on this side of the world, but this baby is not from Hollydale.

Bella rests her forehead on her hands for a moment and then looks up at Olmenia. I don’t know what to say. I’m flabbergasted.

The Council will have some decisions to make. I’ll call them together tomorrow. For now, this baby needs a safe place to stay and some loving care. Would you be willing to tend to her till the Council decides what should be done?

Bella’s eyes sparkle, and a wide smile crinkles her face.

Olmenia asks, Do you think Itchquincher will mind having her here for a while? It may be for several days or even a few weeks. She has to have parents somewhere, and I hope we can find them as soon as possible.

Bella shakes her head. Itch will not mind. I’m sure of that. May I hold her?

Olmenia hands the baby to Bella. She has a good set of teeth. I learned that when she chomped down on my finger. She should be able to eat whatever you offer her, but it would be best to keep her feedings small. She may have gone without food for quite a while, and you don’t want to shock her system with too much too soon. The water and persimmon paste I gave her will hold her for a while.

Itch and I were planning to share a pear for supper tonight. Babies like fruits. I’ll give her a bit when she seems hungry. Bella’s face is bright with excitement.

That will be fine.

Will you wait with me till Itch comes home? Bella asks. He will surely have questions.

Yes, I want to talk with him, also.

Chapter Seven