Rabbits of Deamlon Chapter 9: A Choice

Rhonda wandered toward the forest’s edge and near to the east-west road, the Piens road. Wiley protested, but she waved him off without turning. “He’s singing. What did you call them? Myn?”

“Yes, Myn,” Wiley said, walking behind her. “Deamlon has Myn, Elves, and Rabbits.”

“There’s a Myn singing in a deep voice out on the road, and he sings like Elvis,” Rhonda said. She turned, and her freckled face beamed at him. “I must see!”

“Don’t go out there yet,” Wiley said from the tripod. “I need to do this first, and we’ll go and watch them from the trees.”

Wiley produced a black, felt cloth from his pocket, which he brought to cover the glass. He untied the red glass ruby from the string and wrapped the shard folding it twice over. Then he stuffed the black bundle into his pocket. “That should do. Amora won’t sense it.” Wiley hurried toward Rhonda at a crouch. She tip-toed toward the road. “Wait, Rhonda, those Myn might be the Queen’s guards, and I’m telling you, these Myn stand a scary eight feet tall.”

“Okay, but can I look around a minute?” Rhonda said while walking through the trees, and Wiley followed her. “These beautiful woods amaze me,” Rhonda said, surveying the canopies. “Look at the perfect grass. It doesn’t grow like this on Earth. What do they call these trees? I don’t recognize the flat oval leaves.”

“I don’t have a clue,” Wiley said. He wanted to tell the story about the Etter birds and how the Elves compelled them to clean this section. But Wiley decided to wait and see if she wanted to stay. He kept his voice low. “To the north of this forest is a meadow or plains, that’s hundreds of miles wide, north and south. It ends at the foot of a narrow range of hills covered in forest.”

“Uh-huh,” Rhonda said while she wandered through the trees, looking up at the canopy and the bright white starshine. She hadn’t heard a word.

“So, have you decided if you want to stick around for a little while or head back to Earth? I’m staying whichever way you decide.”

Out on the road, a Myn laughed, and Rhonda jerked her head toward it. Another Myn laughed, and the first Myn started singing a slow ballad.

I have three loves
They come dressed in white.
Oh! My white doves!
Come to me tonight.
Belodin peers through my window

And Oh! I throw back my shades!
She comes flowing and loves me mellow.
And she leaves at the light of day.

“Listen to his voice, Wiley! He sounds like Elvis singing about his loves.”

“He’s crooning about Deamlon’s moons,” Wiley said, but Rhonda didn’t hear. She ran for the road, and her long and thick red hair bounced as she ran. “Rhonda! Wait!” Wiley whispered as loud as he dared. “Wait!” he said, and rubbed his face with both hands, then headed after her.

The two approached the road, and Wiley spotted the two big Myn. They wore knee-length, medieval tunics held closed by belts around their waists. The big Myn wore sandals with straps wrapped above their ankles. They dressed as civilians, not the Queen’s guards. Rhonda paused for a moment and whispered to Wiley, “They’re giants!” She stepped out onto the road behind the Myn.

“Rhonda, get back!” Wiley shouted in a whisper. The two Myn stopped and turned.

“Well! Look here!” the Myn who had sung said. “A She-Myn, and a small one.” The immense Myn looked up and down the road. “From which direction did you come?”

True to their race, they stood eight feet tall with broad and muscular shoulders. The singing Myn had heavy well-developed arms, as did his traveling companion. They both had black wavy hair and square jaws with dimpled chins.

Standing at the road behind a tree, movement from far across the Meadow caught Wiley’s attention. Then, an odd thing happened. The purple mist returned. The same small cloud he’d seen before at the big box store and during the fight with Amora settled on his head and shoulders to his chest. Through the plum haze, the landscaped looked as though he wore dark sunglasses. He tried to bat at it and wipe it away, but his hands went through it like air.

He concentrated on the movement, and his view of the landscape zoomed in. The scene came closer to him as if he looked through binoculars. A crowd gathered beneath the forest on the hills, hundreds of miles across the Great Meadow. The Rabbits flocked around a wooden structure. The Rabbits looked like tiny black dots at this distance, even with binocular vision. Wiley had to squint to make out their long ears.

He shook his head and whispered. “How did that happen?” He wiped his eyes and scanned with his normal vision. He could not see the Rabbit crowd – too far.

“Where did you get the flaming red hair?” one Myn asked, and Rhonda shrugged.

“Born with it.” She smiled up at one Myn and then the other. “Which one sang the song? I’d like to hear more.”

Wiley hid behind the fat tree with the oval leaves and concentrated on the events across the field. Again, the scene zoomed on him as if he used a telescope. Wiley couldn’t judge for sure how far away across flat land, but it moved even closer now. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he peered through the purple mist. Wiley found the harder he wanted the scene to come closer, the closer it zoomed as if he fine-tuned a telescope.

“What kind of magic is this purple mist?” He had seen it before, but its origin puzzled him.

On the wooden structure’s platform, Wiley spotted several Rabbits. They still looked minuscule, but he could see details. One Rabbit wore a three-piece suit with a tailored hole for his tail, stood six feet tall, and had a rotund belly. He gestured as if giving a speech.

On the road with the Myn, Rhonda took a cigarette from her pack, placed it between her lips, and lit it.

“Fire!” A Myn said and slapped the cigarette from her mouth with his enormous hand. He stamped out the embers with his sandaled foot.

The other Myn said, “She-Myn, you put this odd flint-striker near your face and struck fire! Why did you do it?”

“To smoke!” Rhonda said.

“Give me the striker!” he said like an impatient parent scolding a child. The big Myn snatched the lighter from her hand. “Myn smoke herbs in long pipes for lung ailments. What do you call this?”

“I… I’m sorry,” Rhonda said. “But why can’t I have the lighter?” Rhonda asked.

The singing Myn spoke with a low and reassuring voice. “You are unfamiliar with our ways. She-Myn can’t own aggressive instruments. We forbid it.” Rhonda glanced back toward Wiley, frowning.

Peering from behind the tree, Wiley whispered to her, “Run away!”

The singing Myn pulled Rhonda close to him and stroked her hair. “My friend loses his temper, but I forgive you, young one. I will forget this transgression.” He looked older than the other and had grey at his temples. “My, but you have a pretty face and soft skin. Also, you have big breasts, which is a rarity. Do you travel from Fellens, a country across the Crystal Sea?”

Rhonda shook her hair from her face and raised her chin, red-faced and embarrassed but defiant. Angry, she started to speak, but the other Myn squeezed her close and stroked her back, putting her at ease, and his large hand covered her from shoulder to shoulder.

“We meant no disrespect, pretty one,” the Myn rubbing her back said.

Rhonda smiled up at him and then the other. They pinned her between them, and she didn’t seem to mind. “From what I hear, She-Myn from Fellens have smaller bodies than She-Myn here, and a small number have red hair,” he said.

“Do you really think I’m pretty?”

“Oh! Yes, very much so,” the older Myn said.

Rhonda enjoyed his attentiveness. She wrapped her arm around the older Myn’s waist. “Can you tell me your name, and will you sing for me?” Rhonda asked.

“My name’s Pith, my good She-Myn, and I’d love to sing for you,” he said. He began a song, and Rhonda laid her head on his thick arm.

Leaning against the tree, Wiley said, “This has all gone sideways. This purple stuff is helping, but what is it?” The two tall Myn and Rhonda stood two tensteps from him.

Pith pulled a flask from inside his tunic. “I have honey nectar. Do you thirst?” Rhonda nodded. He put the bottle to her lips and let her sip. Rhonda drank, then her eyes rolled up, and her legs gave way. The two Myn caught her, and Pith hoisted Rhonda by her armpits over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. The Myn laughed and headed away, down the road toward Piens.

“She’ll fetch a heavy sack of gold Crowns at the Piens auction house,” Pith said. He walked with Rhonda dangling over his shoulder. Her head bounced below his shoulder blade, and her hands hung near his waist. Her whole body fit on one of his shoulders. The other Myn nodded and laughed.

Wiley eased onto the road while the violet mist floated around his head and shoulders like a swarm. Across the Meadow, the Rabbit crowd parted, and long-eared guards appeared carrying spears. They escorted a prisoner toward the wooden structure.

Wiley whispered. “They’ve built gallows! They’re taking a Rabbit to hang. Wait! They have Yini!”

The Myn carried Rhonda away on his shoulder while guards escorted Yini toward a hangman’s noose.

“Yini told me that she had a hefty bounty on her head – that Clan Chief Alphus wanted to see her hang.”

Wiley stood in the road looking at Rhonda lying across the giant Myn’s shoulder, then at Yini escorted by guards. He looked back to Rhonda carried off by the Myn, then to Yini.

What could he do to save Rhonda?

He gazed at Yini in the distance and back to Rhonda dangling on the giant Myn’s back.

Which one do I rescue? The Myn had said that Rhonda would bring them money at an auction. They can’t auction Rhonda off like cattle! I must save her!

Wiley bolted and ran.

He ran out into the Great Meadow toward the gallows, not toward Rhonda, but to Yini.

“Sorry, Rhonda,” he said, “But they can’t hang Yini.” Wiley took off at a flat-out run toward the scaffold. He pumped his arms and legs, running as fast as he could. His feet tingled, and he looked down. The purple mist left his head and formed around his shoes.

Then, his speed increased. The purple mist around his shoes intensified into a violet corona. It released flashes like solar flares, and his legs began taking longer strides. Wiley covered longer distances with each stride. Wiley ran so fast his hair blew off his forehead, and wind boomed in his ears. I’m jumping these small hills like a motorcycle!

“YINI! NO!” Wiley ran, shouting and waving his arms. He glanced back, but the long-legged Myn carrying Rhonda disappeared around a curve.

The Rabbit guards held Yini by her arms as she could not walk straight or stand. Two more guards escorted them, carrying spears. Yini appeared drunk with her head drooping forward, and it rolled to the side while they walked her up the steps. They drugged her!

“You bastards!” But drugging her made sense, though, if they needed to subdue a witch.

Wiley ran flat out, and the ground flew by him in a blur. He covered the distance at breakneck speed with the grass bowing in his wake. But pressure began to build in his chest like a vice squeezing him.

The Hanging-Rabbit dropped the rope around Yini’s neck and cinched it tight. Yini’s ears fell onto her shoulders, and her head bowed. Her whiskers bowed down with her frown, and she started to cry.

Wiley huffed but managed to scream out over the Great Meadow. “Stop! You can’t!” The two other Rabbits on the tall platform heard Wiley shout. The Rabbit in the suit must be her Clan Chief, Alphus. He wanted Yini dead. Alphus and the Hanging-Rabbit stood slack-jawed, watching this speedy human race toward them.

“Ignore that creature and hang her,” Alphus said. “The witch must die!”

Yini stood on the trap door with her neck in the noose, crying and sniffling. The taller Hanging-Rabbit moved behind her. “Would you prefer a hood?” he asked.

Yini wore red pants, buttoned in front at the waist and back above her tail. She wore a matching red shirt with a black prisoner number stenciled across her back.

Wiley shouted at the Rabbits on the platform. “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but allow me to speak on Yini’s behalf!”

The rotund Myn-Rabbit, Alphus, shouted above the crowd. “And here comes the witch’s partner in crime!” Wiley slowed to a stop rounding the gallows structure. “You address Alphus, the Clan Chief, ruler of hundreds of thousands!” Alphus strutted toward him with his black leather boots thumping on the wood floor. “I have judged and issued my verdict on this Witch, according to Clan law! The Witch-Rabbit will hang!” The crowd cheered, and Wiley’s heart sank, realizing he had an uphill battle convincing them.

“You, sir, address Wiley! The one who loves her!” Hearing his declaration, the crowd quieted. Wiley noticed the social division at once. The Rabbit attendees standing in the rear wore modest clothing, old and worn. The smaller group seated at the front wore handsome new clothes. The She-Rabbits there wore fancy, beautiful, and dark dresses proper for an execution.

Wiley stopped at the gallows steps, and bent, putting his hands on his knees, huffing. “Release her to me, and I will take her away.” The purple mist surrounding his shoes trailed away and vanished into the prairie. Wiley tried to catch his breath.

Pain shot through Wiley’s chest, and he grimaced and gripped his ribcage. His heart had stopped beating a few paces back. Now Wiley’s jaw tingled with numbness, and an ache radiated from his chest to his face.

An older She-Rabbit wearing a black lacey dress and black veil sobbed into a handkerchief. “Let Yini go with him, husband.” She pleaded with Alphus. “Do right by our daughter!” The She-Rabbit broke down and cried, and her long ears fell over her face.

Wiley bent and retched, heaving until he expelled it all. He gripped his knees with his head hung, bowed his back, and agony contorted his face.

THUMP-BUMP! A shock wave burst from him, surprising Wiley, and the force went rippling over the crowd. The Rabbits threw up their hands in unison and wailed for Wiley. Four Rabbits rushed to him, touching him. They wept and called out his name, having heard him announce it.

Yini raised her bobbing head with drooping eyelids and weaving. “Thersh, Wiley,” she said, slurring. “He hassh a bad heart. Bad heart, nope, good heart!” Yini began to cry. Wiley fell, pulled out the smartphone, laid it on the grass face-up, and collapsed onto his side.

The Pool of Fire! Yini’s eyes popped open wide when she spotted it on the grass, and she purred, “hoodle, oodle, oodle, oodle….” A small, blue flame appeared on the glass surface. But Yini’s drugged and clouded mind could not hold concentration, and the blue fire died.

Rabbit medics came running to Wiley’s side with a stretcher. Wiley waved them off, held out his hand, and a Rabbit helped him to his feet. “She will not hang today!” He pounded his chest.

Thump-Bump! And again, THUMP-BUMP!

Another shockwave, a much stronger one, blew through the crowd. It knocked the Hanging-Rabbit’s black hood off. Wealthy She-Rabbits lost their hats as Wiley’s shockwave whooshed across the audience. The power wave rippled across the Great Meadow, bending down the grasses. Wildflowers bowed and expelled their pollen as the tide washed over them. Bees and other insects took flight as the wave rippled for miles in all directions. Trees swayed in the forest up the High Hills slope, and their leaves swished.

Rabbits fell to their knees, bowed low, even prostrating, and saying, “Hail Wiley!”

Wiley clutched the Pool of Fire and staggered to the gallows’ steps. With his free hand out, he searched for a grip on the handrail. He stumbled up the stairs and crawled the last two steps, clenching his chest, and fell onto the platform.

“Pussh the Pool to my feet,” Yini said, slurring, drunk from honey nectar. “I need to tousch it.” With her neck bound and her hands tied behind her back, Yini tried to hop toward Wiley and stick out her left foot.

Wiley gave the Pool of Fire a shove in her direction along the platform floor. He rolled over on his back, his chest arched, drawing his last breath, and he collapsed. His still, dying eyes stared skyward.

***

“Wiley, NO!” Yini said, with her eyes wide and her face red. She panicked and strained against the noose, hopping sideways to get her toe against the Pool of Fire. He didn’t shove it far enough. She choked herself, and her face turned blue. She coughed and gritted her teeth, spittle flew, and blood dribbled from her “y” nostrils. Her toe stopped two inches short.

The two Rabbits left on the gallows, Alphus and the Hanging-Rabbit, knelt in sorrow and cried for Wiley.

Fighting the nectar that they had forced down her throat, Yini strained and tried to purr. “Hoodle, oodle, oodle, oodle….” A thin, wispy tentacle snaked from her pooched lips down to her foot, and its point moved along the wooden planks. She clenched her bound fists and purred harder. She gave a final push, and her tentacle licked the Pool’s screen.

Blue flame burst from the Pool of Fire!

Yini brought blue fog from the Pool in a great cloud and covered Wiley and herself. In her drugged state, she couldn’t work the knots around her wrists. So, Yini’s blue fog dissolved the noose and her wrist bindings at once. She fell forward on her hands and knees with a thud, gulping air.

To save Wiley, she must rid her mind of the nectar, and she breathed blue fog, in and out, getting as much as possible into her. She used the blue power from the Pool of Fire to clear her body of nectar. Feeling normal again, she went to Wiley.

Experience taught her the dying held to their hearing to the very last. “I’m a healer, my Wiley,” she said. “You’ve trusted me to massage your heart before. Trust me now.”

With the Pool in her hand, Yini lifted Wiley’s chin and opened his mouth. She began to purr, “hoodle, oodle, oodle, oodle….”  Yini pinched his nose shut and gave him three breaths watching his chest rise and fall.

Yini spun and straddled him, throwing a leg over his hips. On her knees, she placed her right palm beneath his sternum. She put her left palm on top of her right, and she began giving rhythmic chest presses. Still purring while she pressed his chest, she sent a tentacle down his throat.

Through the magic, she could feel for a pulse. She stopped pumping and probed his heart with her blue magic. Wiley’s heart lay dead. Yini placed one palm atop his heart and another to the side, and she began to purr, “hoodle, oodle, oodle, oodle….” Power tentacles snaked from her puckered lips, down her arms, and wove around her fingers. The power strands came alive with electricity, crackling, and giving off sparks. Yini tilted her head to the sky, and her eyes went white as the power increased. The power increased to the point she could not hold it.

She let a charge go into Wiley’s chest.

POOM!

His back arched off the wooden platform, and steam rose from his skin. Yini held her hands to the sky, and lightning crackled from her fingertips. She laid her palms onto Wiley’s chest again.

POOM!

His back arched and fell. Yini stopped and listened to her blue tentacles inside his throat. A heartbeat! Yini cradled Wiley’s head, and she bent and kissed him.

***

Wiley batted his eyes and smiled up at her. “They didn’t hang you,” he said.

Yini laughed, then said, “You’re alive!” Then released all her magic. “They haven’t hanged me yet, thanks to your magic heart burst. Everyone is still enthralled by it, including me,” Yini said, laughing, and a tear fell from her eye onto Wiley’s cheek. “Didn’t you say you loved me?” Yini asked.

Wiley smiled and took a breath, “You heard that. Yes, Yini,” he said. “I am sure.”

She leaned over and kissed him and batted a tear onto his forehead. “As am I,” she said, whispering, searching his eyes. He leveled his gaze into her big blue eyes. “I love you, too, Wiley.” Yini bent and kissed him again, longer, with more passion. “But it could be from your power wave,” she said, giggling.

They parted, and Yini stroked his hair, and Wiley asked, “Do you have a surname?”

“My name? They’ve called me Yini the Banished since my fourteenth season. People have called me the Witch of the Forest, or Witch-Rabbit, or Yini the Outlaw, you pick.”

“He didn’t hang you back then because of your age, right?” Wiley asked.

“Alphus wanted to keep me in jail until my eighteenth season and then hang me. But I thank the She of the Moons my mother intervened.”

“Your mother? What did she do?” Wiley asked.

“She is his wife. Alphus is my father,” Yini said, and they both turned to see Alphus sitting on the platform. “She threatened to tell the entire Clan about his shortcomings if you know what I mean.”

Wiley grimaced. “Your father would hang his daughter.”

“Yes,” Yini said, “and now you see what a loving father I have. By law, he cannot disinherit me, so he wants to kill me and pass the inheritance to my sister, Grace.” Her chest hitched, and her eyes teared. “When they exiled me, the Myn-Rabbit guards flew me deep into the southern forest. There, they released me and ordered me never to return. I had nothing but my long knife, a bedroll, and no idea where they dropped me.”

“You were fourteen, and your father hoped you would die in the wild.”

“Yes,” Yini said. “But I had my magic, and it so happened that my master, he-who-cannot-be-named, found me in my visions. He offered me direction.” Yini giggled. “But I found him that day, in the flesh.” She put her lips to his ear. “I used Fairy Fire to make him reveal himself,” she whispered. “My power became quite strong that day.”

Wiley shook his head. “You will show me everything. From this day forward, you are Yini of Clan Wiley.

She giggled. “If they hang me today, I will die a happy She-Rabbit.” They kissed again. Wiley tried to sit when they parted, but Yini pushed his shoulder, wanting him to rest.

“I can sit up, Yini,” Wiley said, “thanks to you.” Yini helped him up. He sat propped with his hands behind him. “I went to sleep for a ‘t-tick.’ Did I say it right?”

“Yes, we measure time by ticks and t-ticks.” She sighed. “You fell unconscious. I need to get away from here as soon as I can, and I need to get you to my hut.”  

Alphus sat on the platform with his legs dangling off the edge, weeping and wiping his eyes. Yini whispered. “Later, I will tell you the tale about how I came out of exile after five seasons in the forest. But I will say this. When I recovered from near death, I found out that Father had arranged my marriage. He bound me to a Myn-Rabbit named Savu, a distant cousin. Savu has a pullow in the Alphus Clan’s stables across the High Hills on the north side. I’m going to take it. Savu owes me that much.”

“Why did Alphus arrange a marriage to a witch if they hang witches?” he asked. Yini’s beaming face fell dark, and her deep blue eyes went sad. “They would turn me over to the Queen, and she would siphon my magic. Savu made this deal with Alphus. Alphus permitted Savu to marry me if he could tame me.”

“Let me guess. Once the Clan passed to you, Savu, your loving husband, would kill you and take the Clan for himself. Let’s leave here, now,” Wiley said and started to stand, “and I’ll help you with the pullow. Wiley twisted and got to his knees and struggled to stand with Yini’s help.

“The Rabbits hailed me. Why, Yini?” Wiley asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head as she stood and tried to help him stand. She grinned, saying, “Your magic addled their brains.”

“Thanks a lot. Wait until I tell you about the purple mist. It muddled my brain. What’s a pullow?” Wiley went down to one knee, paused, and collapsed back onto the gallows’ deck, moaning. She sat beside him and made him lay down and stretch out his legs.

“You are still weak as a baby, my Wiley,” she said. “I am here beside you no matter what happens to us today.” Wiley swallowed hard, smiled, and gripped her hand. “Wiley needs water!” Yini shouted over the crowd. The Rabbit medics hurried with a water skin and handed it to Yini. Wiley gulped, and she pulled it back. “That’s enough, my Wiley. You won’t keep it down.”

“Forgive me. I am hindering our getaway,” Wiley said. “Tell me about pullows.”

“Okay, I’ll try to describe the animal. We breed pullows for work, and it pulls our plows. It is taller than us and has a mane from its high head to its shoulders, and it has a long hairy tail. A pullow is big enough to ride two Myn-Rabbits and has four long legs, thin but powerful. It has hooved but brittle feet, and they need protection with steel shoes. Its head is angular, with short, pointed ears. A pullow has wide eyes on either side of its head, and its snout ends with wide nostrils. It has beautiful wings set above and its forelegs, and it takes flight with long, strong strokes,” she said.

“It sounds like Earth’s horse, but lighter, light enough to take flight. Does it have hollow bones like a bird?”

Yini made the ‘Shh!’ sound between her teeth. “Whisper, I don’t want Alphus to hear. I don’t know about a horse.” Alphus and the crowd sobbed into handkerchiefs or on shoulders. Their long ears shook as they cried.

“On Earth, the horses have hooves and a tail, but they are heavy animals with no wings,” Wiley said.

Yini glanced to Alphus and leaned close to Wiley. “We will ride Savu’s pullow to my hut in the southern forest as soon as you can walk, and I will heal your heart.”

Alphus labored to his feet, grunting, blew his nose into a monogrammed handkerchief. When Wiley and Yini looked up, he stood over them and said, “You can’t leave now.”

“You!” Yini said. “You could have used me, Father. I could have commanded your guard forces. You could have placed me at your spear’s tip and turned this Clan more powerful and profitable than ever. I could have made you the greatest Clan Chief rivaling the Crown herself. Instead, you cast me out like I had the black boils.”

“Shut it, Witch. I’ve heard it all before. I will not sit idle while a witch lives and breathes, and neither will Queen Amora. You misunderstood me; no one can leave. Look there, her Emissaries come!” Alphus said, pointing over the crowd.

A long, oval, green flier landed, making no noise while the three legs extended and touched the ground. The flier’s side displayed the Queen’s royal seal – a wreath surrounding her diamond crown. A red, blue, and gold ribbons underlined the wreath.

“Elven Emissaries!” Yini said. She put her lips next to Wiley’s ear. “I’m going inside your head. Trust me?” Wiley nodded.

Where did you put the ruby glass? Yini pushed the question. Answer by pushing thought with a gentle feeling, and I’ll understand.

In my right pocket, in black cloth. Emissaries? Wiley pushed a picture of himself, standing by the tripod and stuffing the glass in his pocket.

Elven Emissaries are the Queen’s scientists and henchmen, Wiley. And you did well, answering me with your mind. Yini put an image in Wiley’s head of the tall blond Elves doing experiments in a laboratory and a victim tied to a chair. Mind talk will become more comfortable and faster with practice.

Yini glanced over her shoulder and made sure Alphus could not see. She reached into his pants and took the black felt bundle. Yini stuffed the black cloth down her shirt collar into her bra, as the prison clothes had no pockets.

Here they come. Like I said before, Elves look like clones with sexual ambiguity, Yini pushed. Warning, Amora’s Emissaries have mind control magic. Four Elves stepped from the flier and strolled through the Rabbit crowd. Rabbits sat still as statues, an enormous motionless group.

The four thin Elves stood six feet tall and had short, blond curly hair, pointed ears, and upturned noses. They all wore ankle-length green robes with golden embroidery on the lapels and cuffs. It signified their positions as Emissaries.

A feeling Wiley never experienced tickled his brain. He winced, wanting to scratch his inner ear but could not move his hands. “What’s happening, Yini?” Yini did not answer. She sat still, staring in the Emissaries’ direction. Above her, Alphus stood with his fists clenched, frozen, staring down at Yini.

The Elves worked their way toward him. Wiley tried to stand, but his legs could not move, either.

“Wiley, sir, we noticed you detected our mind trap.” The first Elf said. “We’ve never come across that talent. Answer us, please, as we’ve allowed you to speak.”

The four looked identical, and Wiley had no clue about their sex. “I felt a tickle, but I’ve never encountered mind control,” Wiley said.

“A talent you could develop, but we will study it later at our laboratory. Now you must come with us,” another Elf said. Wiley’s body got to its feet without his control. His feet took steps without Wiley moving his legs or arms. His legs walked him down the steps and to the sleek, green flier’s stairs, all controlled by the Elves.

“In you go,” an Elf said. Wiley’s legs walked him up the stairs and into the flier. The four Elves joined him, and the stairs lifted and closed. The vehicle rose above the crowd, turned south, and flew away as quiet as a breeze.

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