The Elf in the Alder Part 2

     PART 2
 "He's coming to," said a voice from far away.
 "Give him a drink of cordial; he's been through quite a shock," said another distant voice.
 I felt myself being propped up and a cup was put to my lips. I drank something that smelled of roses and lavender and tasted of lemons and something in the chocolate family. It went right to my head and I slumped onto my back again.
 "He's out again," I heard dimly.
 "Give it a moment to work," said the first voice. "Humans are so big!"
 "Maybe we gave him too concentrated a dose?"
 "Hey Chocky,  shine a light in his eyes."
 I could see a bright light through the red of my eyelids and I carefully squinted. I was surrounded by Blue Wednesday and a large number of other little men. I was completely muddled and my head ached. The room was spinning around on me in a way that reminded me of unwise alcoholic consumption during my turbulent youth.
 "Ah, there you are," said the elf prince with a huge smile. "Welcome to Nod! Are you feeling better?"
 "Murgh," I said. My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
 "Better give him some more cordial," said Blue Wednesday to another elf. I was propped up again and given another mouthful. Immediately all pain ceased and I felt like I was floating.
 "Better?" asked the prince.
 "Where am I?" I asked, trying to fight my way out of my daze.
 "I just told you. You are in the land of Nod, my father's kingdom."
 "The Witch!" I cried, remembering suddenly.
 "Shh, be calm. She is far away from here," he said in a soothing tone. "You need not be afraid."
 "But how did you do it? How did I come here?"
 "We used the Silver Wand," he said simply.
 "The Wand? But the Witch said that you could not wield it! She said that you were not made of stern enough stuff."
 "Gruzzela is given to wishful thinking," said the prince. "The Wand, though made by an evil man, is not, in itself, evil. Wroth only stored natural power within the Wand; he was not able to bend it to his will alone."
 "What is your plan now?" I asked.
 "Perhaps, you mean, what is our plan, for I perceive that you are with us, no?"
 "Yes, yes...if you like. What is our plan, then?"
 "Come, let us go into the King's Council Chamber!" said the prince clapping his hands. "We will see what we must consider."
 I tried to get up but my legs were not functioning in their usual capacity, and then I fell asleep.
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 I woke up, feeling hung over. I was lying on a large, vividly coloured rug feeling uncommonly stiff.
 "Rise and shine!" said Blue Wednesday, coming into the room with a candle and a bowl of porridge.
 "I can't eat!" I said, feeling fizzings of nausea rising from my belly.
 "You should try, my friend. You'll need your strength for our task."
 "Task, what task?"
 "I told the assembled company that we two would act to draw Gruzzela away from Nod."
 "We two?" I complained to the elf. "Why do we have to be the sacrifices?"
 "That's what a noble does," said the elf. "That's why we are called nobles."
 "You're forgetting that I am no noble," I carped in a decidedly ignoble way.
 "Ah, but there you are wrong, sir," smiled the prince. "You showed nobility from the first I knew you."
 "Pah, that was nothing! I just got out my ladder. What I object to is you volunteering me."
 "It's because I find you so charming," he said.
 "Now who's being charming?" I groused, but I let him lead me into a small anteroom just off of the council chamber.
 "We will need the Wand," he said. He went to a wooden chest bound in silver straps and took a key from his neck. He unlocked the chest and drew out a long velvet bag.
 "Behold, the Silver Wand," he whispered, pulling it out. It was slender and so full of light that it hurt my eyes.
 "What will you do with it?" I asked.
 "Come with me and see," he grinned.
 "I should have ignored you when you blundered into my alder," I said. "I should have just kept reading my Agatha Christie and gone on like normal."
 "Ah, but you didn't, my noble friend," he laughed. I grinned in spite of myself. We spent several minutes following a tunnel which connected to the Great Mole Tunnel. Eventually we came to a foul-smelling section. The elf turned to be and threw his shoulders back. "Now, don't be alarmed..."
 "Alarmed? Why would I be alarmed?" I said, very alarmed.
 "We might need to run past this last bit."
 "Why?" I stuttered, but then I saw the answer: a huge red slug towered above us dripping a clear slime like an nightmarish rainfall.
 "Don't let its drool hit you!" screamed Blue Wednesday.
 I didn't have to ask why, because I could see that the drool burned through everything it touched. We scuttled around the immense gastropod which fortunately was no quicker than the garden variety of slugs.
 We ran up the tunnel and came out in the midst of a burning desert.
 "Where are we?" I asked, trying to make sense of my surroundings.
 "Namibia, is what you humans call it. In our language, it is called the Golden Sands."
 "But that's impossible! There is no way that the tunnel took us so far so fast!"
 "Why not?" asked the elf.
 "Because Namibia is thousands of kilometers away from England!" I protested.
 "And?" said the elf.
 "...and we haven't been traveling for more than a couple of hours."
 "So?"
 "So how could we go thousands of kilometers in a matter of a few hours?"
 He brandished the wand with a broad smile on his face. "I may have helped with that,' he said.
 "Well, now what?" I asked.
 "Now we create a diversion here that will draw off Gruzzela," he said.
 "What makes you think that she'll come so far?" I said.
 "Because I will use the wand, and its power will be like catnip to her. She will come as fast as she can."
 "What kind of a diversion did you have in mind?" I asked. He gave me a curious look and lifted the wand over his head. At once, I saw the ground fall away; I was splayed out on a massive rock which soared over the desert. I screamed and gripped the edges of the boulder to keep from falling off to my death. The rock itself gave off an eerie buzzing sound as though it was singing in a strange language. I was a sitting duck for the Witch.  I vowed that if I survived I would kill Blue Wednesday!
 "She will make for you like a bee for nectar," smiled the elf who suddenly appeared beside me.
 "Where will you be?" I gasped.
 "I will be hidden in the sand dunes below us."
 "Your plan is that the Witch will find me and blow me into a thousand smoking pieces!" I shrieked.
 "Calm yourself, my excitable friend! She will not kill you if she sees that you don't have the Silver Wand. She will understand that your appearance is due to the wand so she will know that it is nearby. She will not kill you but interrogate you."
 "You credit her with a calm intelligence of which I have seen no sign," I protested, remembering well her blood red eyes and uncertain temper.
 "Fear no evil, my noble friend," said Blue Wednesday.
 "But-"
 But he was gone.
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 I said the usual bad words that Fear suggests so ably, all from the vantage point of my belly (as if I could hide from the Witch). How long would it take her to find me? I prayed passionately that the elf was correct in his prediction of my non-destruction.
 I could hear the sound of enormous wings flapping; I looked up and saw Draco like a fast-moving speck on the horizon. I squeezed my eyes shut and trembled.
 "Ha! The weedy human!" said the Witch. I opened my eyes and got to my knees. "Well, out with it! Where is the Silver Wand?"
 "I don't have it!" I cried.
 "Do you think I'm an idiot?" she shrieked. "I can see that you don't have it! Where is it?"
 "Blue Wednesday has it!" I cried. "But he abandoned me here to face you alone!" (This was true enough)
 "Where is he?" she said lifting me up and shaking me like a leaf.
 "I...don't...know!" I stuttered.
 Just then a flash of light knocked the Witch to one side and she dropped me like a sack of potatoes. I saw her go careening over the side of the boulder screaming.
 "You did it!" I cried to the elf who was helping me to my feet.
 "Not yet!" he said grimly. "She is harder to kill than that!"
 And that was extremely true, for from a distance I heard a blood-curdling roar. I looked over the edge of the rock and the Witch was rising up again as though gravity could not rule her.
 "Quick!" said the elf. "Hold my hand!" I grabbed for his hand and together we shot into the sky deftly avoiding the Witch's attack.
 "Distraction accomplished," yelled the elf in my ear. "Let's make ourselves scarce!"
 I was about to agree completely with Blue Wednesday when a slender gold cord snaked between us and tore me out of his grasp. I went hurdling down and down, only to be jerked up again into the vice-like grip of the Witch.
 "Got you now, you weedy sneak-thief!" she snarled putting away her golden cord. "This should bring that vile elf back in a hurry!"
 We dropped down out of the heavens and came to rest in the desert. She lifted her fingers to her mouth and whistled. I could see the dragon pulling her chariot alight near us.
 "Now, for you," she said grimly. She lifted her hand and I was frozen in place. I tried to move but it was no use. I tried to catch the dragon's eye but his attention was focused on his mistress.
 I looked up hoping to see the elf come charging down with the cavalry or something but I was disappointed. No doubt he had already taken himself home to wait for the Witch's return. She would kill me for sure. Of that, I had no doubt whatsoever.
 "Where is he?" she fumed.
 "He appears to be gone, your Thornship," said the dragon.
 "I must have that wand!" shouted the witch. "Well, at least I will have the pleasure of disintegrating this pipsqueak!"
 "A thought?" ventured the dragon.
 "What? Speak up, Draco!"
 "If you destroy him, you throw away your only bargaining chip with the elves."
 "The elves care nothing for this one!" said the witch.
 "Such a point of view does not describe the usual attitude of the Children of Laxity," reasoned the dragon. "Is it not more likely that the elf is waiting for you to drop your guard?"
 A three-fingered cleft appeared between her eyes as she pondered his words, "What do you suggest Draco?"
 "We are too much in the open here. Let us take him back to your tower and hold him in your dungeon. Perhaps you can lure the elves to his rescue?"
 "We will certainly torture him!" said the witch ferociously.
 "Naturally," said the dragon gently. "I'll make sure that the human suffers all of the agonies of Hell itself!"
 "He'd better!" snarled the Witch. She picked me up and threw me into the back of the chariot still frozen. You have no idea how painful it is to fall on one's face unable to break the fall, or how dull it is to have your face flat on the floor of a chariot for the duration of a long flight. Dragons are fast but not as fast as  an elf with a wand.
 We got to Gruzzela's tower and I found myself unfrozen so I could enjoy the torture that was soon to come. She gripped me by the neck and tossed me into a gloomy cell. I sat on the floor rubbing my sore nose and trying to get the blood flowing in my pins and needles feet.
 Draco appeared at the door of my cell and he lead me out to the torture chamber.
 "Now, you'll have to be roughed up a bit for authenticity," he cautioned. "I'll try not to leave any disfiguring scars."
 "Please!" I whimpered.
 "Be brave, little human," said the dragon raking my back with a quick slash of his claws. I shrieked with pain and fell flat on the floor writhing.
 "My apologies," said the dragon. "I will tell her that you passed out and that I will finish the torture when you have come to your senses!"
 I could only moan. Eventually, I crawled to a bucket in the corner of the room, found some water in it and tried to wash out my wound.
 When I was a student, I had studied the Medieval mystics for a History course. I remember reading "Dark Night of the Soul" by St. John of the Cross and pondering how God could dare to abandon his cherished children, trusting that they would not give up hoping in him. In my own dark night, I raged against the cold-heartedness of God, and the elves, deserting me in this bitter cell. Eventually, I tired of my recriminations and I fell asleep.
 I was floating in the air, high above the clouds and near to the sun. I was Icarus, aloft on temporal wings. I continued to climb closer to the fiery chariot of Apollo, feeling my wings start to melt. Did I care? I was so close to the Great Glory that I could feel no fear. The feathers started to trail behind me as the wax melted. I reached an apex and wingless, I started to fall. And then I was caught up in a strong, waiting hand.
 "I will ne'er leave ye nor forsake ye," said a voice sounding like the pastor of the Presbyterian church I had visited in Aberdeen one summer. "Ye walk as an orphan, when I call ye son."
 I found myself deposited in the middle of a green meadow dotted here and there with brilliant wildflowers. Did a river run through it, or was I the river? I flowed over the green grass like a mist, or a curl of smoke.
 I saw the elves weeping; many of them lay dying and broken. I could not stay with them for I continued to flow. I saw a great tower broken in pieces but so full of light that my eyes ached from the sight.
 And then I heard singing. I had not heard such singing since I was a schoolboy listening to the cathedral choir. Shivers passed through me and I could feel tears coursing down my cheeks.
 I could see every manner of creature walking through the meadow throwing ribbons and flowers in the air as though at a wedding feast. I saw animals, angels, elves and men. Every mouth was opened wide in a great tumultuous song. It was a song to raise the dead. And it had its effect, for among the broken dead I saw eyes opening, limbs flexing, and mouths opening to join in the singing. I found myself joining in the song, as though it were known to me.
 I found myself face to face with Blue Wednesday. He reached out to me with an unreadable expression playing about his eyes. Compassion? Mockery?
 "Just a little longer, Noble Friend," he said. "Fear no evil." Had I heard those words pass his lips before?
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 I woke up with a sour taste in my mouth and a body wracked with pain. My back was on fire. I stumbled to my feet, my head spinning as though it was not fully attached.
 I could hear an odd noise, a scratching like a cat trying to persuade one to open the door but it came from down beneath the flagstones. I put my ear to the floor and the sound amplified.
 I felt a tremor go through the cell as though it was being pulled against its will. I heard a cry of violent anger resounding down the corridor. It was the Witch! I pressed my back against the wall as though I could hide from her rage.
 The door rattled as though it were being wrestled open but then the walls started to shake as though made of jelly. The flagstones parted and light started to stream into my cell. I babbled in my fright. I heard a booming and all of the foundations shook. I could feel the cell shift to the right and then the left and then there were stones everywhere.
 I was flat on my face and I could taste blood streaming from my torn tongue and cheeks. All was blazing light, so painful that even my shut eyes burned scarlet in my aching vision.
 I could hear the Witch shouting in defiance. I felt a blast of air like a bomb going off and a brighter light than before. A cry of anguish and rage from nearby. I felt a hand dragging me to my feet.
 "Fear no evil!" cried a familiar voice. It was the elf come to rescue me at last.
 "I will have this vengeance at least!" I  opened my eyes to see the Witch tottering toward us with bloody hands. I pressed the elf against me and prepared for the worst.
 Suddenly, a great light struck Gruzzela. She shuddered and cried out a foul spell. The elf and I melted together fused in her death rage.
===
 "What's that one, Dad?" asked young Stephen, learning his wildflowers with the help of his father, the learned Doctor Crane.
 "That's a beauty, Stephen. It's called an 'elphin embrace'. You can tell by the deep blue outer layer of petals."
 "It looks like it's hugging the big, white part in the middle," said the imaginative boy touching it carefully.
 "When the light fades, the blue part actually closes over the white part in an embrace, hence its name," nodded the botanist.
 "But why 'elphin'; is there a story behind it?"
 "I should say so," smiled Dr. Crane.