THE TALENDE TREE

CHAPTER 14 - Peace Treaty

Will felt moss on his cheek before he opened his eyes. Soft, dry moss and a good warm blanket... oh yes, he was in Harpsden Wood, with England 3 and they were making helicopters. When he opened his eyes he would see the brilliant fabric that lined the great room under the roots, that made it look as if you were in a beautiful tent. He opened his eyes and there it was, billowing slightly in a little draught. It had been pulled aside at the entrance to let a little morning light in. He frowned. It looked different, somehow. The colours were different. Perhaps Rowan had...
Reality bit him. Rowan Harpsden was dead. Months and months ago now. Colonel Dünnwald and Captain Pamisos... Essen and phones... oh. Sweden. Memories flooding back. Beautiful ones and terrible ones.
Kinnekulle, thought Will. Was I just hibernating? No, no, they had woken up there. They were coming south now, travelling to Germany, train after train, ferries and cross country. Yes, snow and cold and long cold nights, when they would have frozen to death if they'd been alone. Ace... was Ace all right, he hadn't frozen in the night? No, there he was, asleep in the next bed. Deep asleep, thin and tired, lines now on his beautiful face.
He won't like that. But what came after the trains? Rain... you forget who you are, the rain melted us all, we dissolved into one. Were the fairies jumping or were we flying? Gran... of course, Gran. Leading us on, inspiring us to match him. Not that we ever could. Strength... such strength. Ket... Ket was so beautiful.
Ket was like Ace, everyone loved him... who had said that? And where is this? I'm awake, but I don't know where. We walked on and on. It was raining, but the rain was outside. It couldn't get in, not really. We made it, then. This is the camp the others came from. I was never here before. But I'm sure I saw Rose in the trees. Our beautiful Rose, crack shot, star flyer, genius with clothes, but never give her the map.
How can Rose be here? Why shouldn't Rose be here? Hundreds of people are here. They were all looking at the Commander. She said welcome and it stopped raining and we could move. And Suzette fainted and we all slid through the mud and what was Gus Thurlgrove doing there?
Helicopters. He couldn't remember the story, but he knew the helicopters came into it.
Will sat up in bed. Really, a very nice bed. Beds all around the room in a circle, like the petals of a flower. Everyone was here, everyone was safe. But why were they all asleep? Had he woken up first?
But I never wake up first! He was getting there – really, this was very like waking up from hibernating – but still, it all felt very weird. He got out of bed and walked around. Someone popped his head in through the door, then stepped inside and beckoned him with a smile.
“Captain Thurlgrove! It is you. I thought I saw you. You made this place? Just like Harpsden Wood!”
“Hello, Will! Yes, tents are very comforting. You can be wherever you need to be, in a tent. Would you like a wash?”
“I would love a wash,” said Will. “But there's no snow left.”
“You are in the Bohemian Forest now. There are streams everywhere, running full after yesterday's rain. We have plenty of water, look.”
The captain showed him a little bivouac with a basin and cloths and towels and actually soap, real soap, and jugs of water and one of them was steaming.
“Hot water!” said Will. “I think I'm still dreaming.”
“Take your time,” said Captain Thurlgrove. “Have a good wash. There's plenty more water where that came from. And you'll find some fresh clothes on the end of your bed. Rose made them for you.”
“Thank you,” said Will. “Thank you very much. But the others, are they all right? Why are they all still asleep?”
“Ah, well, it's only 6am,” said the captain, with a bit of a twinkle in his eye. “And the fact is, well, they're still asleep because they all woke up yesterday.”
“Oh, no,” groaned Will, as it sank in. “I didn't, did I?”
“I can't imagine where willows get this reputation for sleeping from. It's a mystery to me.”

Will tried to shrug it off as he enjoyed the hot water. It was so blissful to feel clean again. When had they last had hot water? Kinnekulle... and a kind elf, shaking his head over their matted locks, long hair encrusted with dirt and blood, had brought out some scissors. They'd had long hair for so long. Now, losing it didn't seem to matter much. It felt quite nice actually, thought Will, pouring water over his head. And I'll get teased for sleeping through two nights and a day, he thought, but that doesn't matter either. The war's over. Evil has gone from the realm. Gran was alive, Ket was free and he and Ace were still twins. Those were the things that mattered. Those were the big things. But small things mattered too. Simple pleasures... nice beds and hot water, and now these lovely clothes Rose had made. She must have done that yesterday.
I will find Rose and say thank you, thought Will. It felt strange to make a plan. The clothes were slightly too roomy, but he knew he was too thin. He'd soon get a bit of muscle back. So long as he didn't get sent back to Essen straight away. If the computers were all right and the phones under control... how great it would be to stay in this forest for a bit, to stay with Ace and get fit.
Another pleasant thing was sitting on the end of Ace's bed until he woke up.
“Well, about time,” said Will softly. Other people were still asleep. “I thought you were never going to wake up!”
“Wha.. what!” spluttered Ace. “The cheek of it! You do know what day it is, I suppose?”
“Mm-hm. It's March 9th. And it's a Friday. I must admit, though, March 8th is a bit of a blur. Get your posh new clothes on and tell me all about it.”

A little while later, when they were sitting outside on a root, drinking some water, Ace explained that the day Will had slept through had been very quiet.
“I think some kind-hearted but bossy person...”
“Madge?”
“Yes, probably, had told everyone not to ask us anything, because it was quite peaceful, actually. Rose and a couple of Swedish fairies came and measured everyone and asked what clothes we would like and came back with them in, like, a ridiculously short time, but they just smiled and said kind things but didn't ask a single question about what we'd been doing. And Madge came and hugged everyone and lent Gran her phone, pointing out that it was one of the human network ones, like Colonel Dünnwald's, and that Colonel Dünnwald would undoubtedly lend his phone to Arda Svir if anyone wanted a nice long chat with her.”
“The use of the word 'nice' really slays you, doesn't it?”
“Doesn't it, just. When you think what that conversation will have been about. But full marks to Madge for knowing what he'd need first and nudging him in that direction.”
“And did he look happier when he came back?”
“Yeah... actually, yeah, and quite peaceful. But I still think he'll resign, don't you?”
“Yes, I do. His work is over. He needs a new thing. It might be looking after the goats in Herdalen or becoming the first elf in space but it needs to be different.”
“I know what I'd do,” said Ace. “Build a ship and sail across the Atlantic and see if there are any sprites in America.”
“You feel a sprite-sized ship could tackle hundred foot waves, do you?” grinned Will. “Why is everyone gathering outside again, don't they want to go into their Hall?”
“Ah, okay,” said Ace. “I think this may be a compromise solution. Only guessing here, but I think the Commander asked Gran to speak to the Peace Conference, and he said, no chance, or words to that effect, but he didn't mind if Bjørk did. And Bjørk said he didn't mind at all but he wasn't talking to envoys and people like that when army sprites were working outside.”
“Oh, so they decided to bring everyone in the place together?”
“Looks like it, doesn't it?” said Betch, joining them. He ruffled Will's hair. “Nice to see you, sleepy-head.”
More and more sprites filled every available space. And gradually all their own team came out to join them, Gran and Bjørk last of all. Gran wasn't looking peaceful now. He was tense again, he was going to have to relive everything when Bjørk described it.
“Nothing to worry about at all,” Bjørk told them all. “See, even Will's awake, our work is nearly done. Nearly, but not quite. They want to know what happened. Of course they do. We'd feel the same in their shoes. I'm going to tell them. But I'd really like to see you all standing together, right in front of me. It'd be a big help.”
“Of course we will, sir,” said Sizzle, speaking for the flyers, while all the elves just nodded.
“Great. Thank you. But after that, we need to move out a bit, all of us. Gus Thurlgrove says we can use that terrific room for a base as long as we like. But during the day, it's okay to do other things. Meet up with old friends. Take a walk on your own. Find some work you want to join in with. That'll do to start with. Take it a day at a time. And this morning's work is to finish off the story. Lead on, will you, General? I will speak, but you should lead.”
Gran smiled at them all, a really warm smile that made Will feel happy inside.
“This won't be the last time we're all together, I'm sure,” he said. “But after this, life will start to get back to normal. So once again, while we're alone, thank you. Thank you, Bjørk and Hagtorn and Collen, thank you Dub and Lupa, thank you Fran and Peter and Betch and Dale. Thank you Ace and Will and Gran and Ross, thank you Maag and Campanilla and Sizzle and Dan and Carda, thank you Gazania and Suzette and Lisette. I will never forget your names or your faces and if any one of you ever needs me, I will come to you wherever you may be.”
He was shaking hands with them all as he passed along the line to the front. Dub spoke for them all as he replied.
“It was an honour, sir.”

Bjørk Kinnekulle was a tall, impressive elf and he looked even more impressive standing high up on a wooden platform someone had quickly made. He spoke loudly and clearly and didn't try to sound polished, he just phrased things in his own simple way.
“Good morning, sprites! This place is looking a lot better than last time I saw it! My name is Bjørk Kinnekulle, I am a colonel in the sprite army, Third regiment, Swedish section. I am here to tell you all where this Rogue Unit has been and what we have done and why. Some parts of the story will seem to you to be almost unbelievable. Those parts were also witnessed by all the elves of Huskvarna and Hakarp, elves who would have no interest in backing up any story invented by army sprites. Every single word of what I am about to say is true. I'll start at the end and tell you straight off. Yes, Lars Huskvarna is dead. Yes, he was eaten by a dog, a dreadful thing to witness. For some of you, he was your leader. I am sorry for your loss, and I assure you that he did not suffer. It was all mercifully swift. That was the news out of Sweden, and it is true. What did not come out of Sweden is the identity of the dog. The dog was an elkhound. It was born an elkhound and in due course it will die as an elkhound. But it has spent thirty years transformed against its will into an elf. The elf known to you as Klethra Diolkos.”
Bjørk paused there and took a sip from a glass of water that a thoughtful person had left for him and waited for the uproar to die down.
“Yes, it is true. Over sixty witnesses saw him transform back into a dog the moment Huskvarna's power over him was broken. The dog jumped like a newborn, then it had a moment of memory. It appeared to know what it was doing when it consumed Lars Huskvarna. Then its newborn joy returned and it ran off into the night. If Klethra Diolkos was a friend of yours, I am sorry for your loss. We will never see him again either. At least the best part of him lives on, making a new life for itself somewhere in Jönköping. But how, I know you are asking yourselves, how on earth could anyone sustain a transformation of such complexity for thirty years? Listen and you shall hear. Because now we must go back in time, thirty-five years, to a prison cell in Oslofjord Hill.”

Now Bjørk told the story exactly as Gran had told it on that night, adding nothing, omitting nothing, sometimes using exactly the same words, as if they had been seared into his memory. Will felt it was seared into the memory of everyone who'd heard it. It certainly was into his own. As Bjørk spoke on, Will gazed steadily ahead, so he could see faces on the opposite side of the crowd. The Commander was biting her lip in sympathy. Madge's face was steady but she was wringing her hands. Colonel Pesentheim's mouth was hanging open in horror. And there were faces over there he didn't know; the faces of enemies just as shocked as the faces of friends. But now Bjørk had moved back to the scene beside the larch tree in a snowy glade on a December night. He spoke about the arrival of the Huskvarna sprites, and of how Gran had accused Huskvarna of murder, and how he intended to prove his story was true. The tinder-box... the flames... now they were coming to the part Will hadn't seen, because he had no longer been on the outside, looking in. Will swallowed hard and listened carefully.

“There was the larch tree, blazing bright with the fire it had taken, helped itself to, just as Gran had asked it to, but not being burned up. Instead, we saw a glowing shape, bright like molten metal, being pulled this way and that, as Herdalen and Huskvarna each sought to defeat the other. It seemed as if Huskvarna was winning. He spoke some gloating words, but he spoke too soon. For Gran and Ket Herdalen were not the only twins there that night. Ace and Will Moseley were there, a willow and a sycamore, and as fine a pair of young elves as you could ever wish to meet. Now they joined the battle, and the intensity of it was frightening to watch. Light shone from them and twisted together, like a cable of steel, concentration so intense it was visible. The coiled light made its way towards Gran, trying to find him. Then it did find him, and then the light blazed from Gran too. But light was pouring out of Huskvarna too, light that he was drawing from the glowing shape. A great mental battle was going on before our eyes, the beams of light were struggling against each other. I was so afraid. It didn't seem possible that any of them would survive it, that anyone could sustain such an effort long enough to win. I myself was pouring out everything I could in a feeble effort to help and I know that all the rest of our team were doing the same. It couldn't really help, we knew that, but we had to try. We didn't know it then, but we were at least strengthening each other to face the trials the rest of the night would bring.”

Bjørk stopped again to sip water, and perhaps to calm himself. It hurt, remembering. Will didn't look across the crowd this time. If people were staring at him and Ace, he didn't want to know.
“The glowing shape was upright now, towering above all of us, a thing of beauty, yes, but terrible and strange, and almost evil. I was terrified, shaking with fear. This tree had outgrown Huskvarna, it was starting to draw light from him, taking it back into itself. What would happen if it swallowed up the spirit of Huskvarna? What would happen if it did the same to Gran and Ace and Will? Yet still, unbelievably, they were hanging on, the coiled light empowering Gran and Gran's light still bearing down on Huskvarna. Then suddenly, the coiled light blazed with an intense, blue fury, and Gran's light blazed in turn and Huskvarna's was beaten down. Then there was a great cracking sound as if the very earth had split in two, and a blaze of light so huge that I yelled out in fear and I wasn't the only one. It was like a flash of lightning, but when it disappeared, another light was left behind, a light that had been there all the time, the spirit of Ket Herdalen. Its light coiled with Gran's. Ace and Will at once drew back. Gran and Ket finished off Huskvarna together. Huskvarna was in darkness, on his knees in the snow. The light around Ace and Will was no longer coiled, it was one light, and I couldn't see them both. They were flickering, as if they were two people in the same shape, two shapes merging. But then the light of the spirit changed too and the real spirit of a real elf stepped out of it, and everyone there knew they were looking at Ket Herdalen, young and beautiful, and finally free. His spirit departed, and wherever he has gone, may we all join him one day.”

Again Bjørk paused, to collect himself. His voice had been wobbling, there. Will cautiously looked up. There were Rose and Clover, both in tears. The Commander had her face in her hands. Everyone looked stunned.

“The lights faded. The larch tree was really burning now, burning furiously. Ace and Will somehow managed to separate themselves and launched themselves at Gran, seeing faster than anyone that he was in danger of getting burned. I went to help, and so did two other big elves, Fran and Peter Knightwood, and together we pulled the three of them away from the fire.”
They were back to reality now, thought Will with gratitude. He could see the rest of it for himself. Bjørk carried on, telling about the terrible appearance of the dog and what it had done, and then moving on to the story of the battle. The audience was still listening intently, but Will wasn't. Something Bjørk had said had bothered him. There had been something there that needed a lot of thinking about, but what had it been? While Will was still wondering, Bjørk drew his story to a close. He spoke of the hospitality of Kinnekulle, the long and arduous journey here and thanked everyone who had done so much to provide for them and care for them, for which the whole team was very grateful.
“I would like to finish,” said Bjørk, “by saying that none of us hold any grudge against the Huskvarna elves for attacking us. It was a reaction born of shock and not to be wondered at. And we do not blame the sprites of Huskvarna for anything. Lars Huskvarna was not their fault.”

The senior sprite of Huskvarna was there in the crowd, one of the Gruski party that had come on from Zurich. He responded very courteously.
“Thank you, Colonel Kinnekulle. Nevertheless, on behalf of Huskvarna and Hakarp colony, I apologise to everyone who has suffered from the actions of an elf of ours and especially to you, General Herdalen. No-one can ever put right the wrong that was done to you. I am so very sorry.”
He bowed deeply to Gran, and Gran, who had been wrapped in agony like a scarf, got a grip and bowed gravely in return. Then his face took on a wary look, and Will saw that it was because the enemy leaders were lining up in front of him. But he had nothing to worry about. They looked from Bjørk to Gran.
“Thank you,” said Senior Envoy Héfiz. “That cannot have been an easy story to tell, but it needed telling.”
“If it is any scrap of comfort,” said Jesion Gruski, “we of parliament had already deposed Lars Huskvarna. I don't think there is anyone left who would defend his methods ever again.”
“I liked Klethra Diolkos,” said Mento Zsennye. “I had no idea what had been done to him. I am glad you freed him, too.”
“The Premier knew,” said Chief Lawyer Drina. “The mysterious words he spoke before he died are now made clear. And the proof is complete that Lars Huskvarna was responsible for his transformation. Thank you for your brave testimony. I believe it. Every word of it.”

Gran shook hands with them all, nodding, trying to smile. The worst part was over, thought Will, glad for him, not realising any more than Gran did that the worst was yet to come. Gia spoke next, in a faltering voice, staring at Gran with stricken gaze.
“Thank you. I never heard of such courage and fortitude. Such a make-or-break moment... my goodness, if Huskvarna had won, he would have been invincible. You have saved the realm.”
Gran shook his head.
“I couldn't have done it without Ace and Will,” he said. “He was using the tree against me, I was losing fast. It seemed to last so long... but they were with me, they stayed with me. Then something cracked – I didn't know everyone else could hear the crack, too – and then it was over. Ace and Will saved the realm, not me.” Then he stopped, and stared at them. “There was a prophecy...”
“Oh,” said Ace. “Was that the prophecy? Then it wasn't just me. I never thought it was. It was both of us, it was always both of us.”
“Yes, it was always both of you,” said Calla Babele, hobbling forward.
Will gasped out loud at the sight of her. He could guess who she was, Clover had mentioned her in texts, but he hadn't expected to meet her here.
“An elf of surpassing beauty – and two figures merging – that was the prophecy. We saw that happen more than once when Bjørk Kinnekulle was speaking of it. Yes, you have saved the realm. What you did could have saved it or broken it for ever. But you don't understand yet what you did, or what you risked, do you? Perhaps it's just as well, because if you had understood the risks, would you have dared to venture?”
“Calla Babele?” gasped Gran, who didn't get chatty texts from Clover. “What are you doing here? And what on earth do you mean?”
“I mean that Lars Huskvarna, whether he knew it or not, had created a tree of power. He had pooled an elf and a tree. The Talende Tree was born this way, centuries ago. Born out of love, its love grew and grew, until it spread across the realm. And far away, in a place where humans came for answers, another elf, full of love for his tree and his people, so far away at the other end of the world, pooled with his tree to tap into the Talende Tree's power, and share it. And the Talende Tree didn't mind. It was strong enough to support them both. And thus the Enlightening Tree was born. And some silly sprites called it evil, when it was only trying to help. And other silly sprites – including myself – convinced ourselves that it, not the Talende Tree, was the source. Wishful, deluded thinking... wanting a Tree that was our own and not the army's.
But when Lars Huskvarna attacked the Talende Tree, the Enlightening Tree died. Without the power from the source, it could not sustain its great age.
But what put it into Huskvarna's head to attack the Talende Tree? The Larch did. His tree, twisted for years by contact with his evil mind, had been given the strength of an elf. And not its own elf, who loved it so much he wanted to be one with it, but the spirit of a murdered elf, used by his murderer. The Larch was growing in power and evil and the fact that the elf had been a good elf made no difference to it. Every time Lars Huskvarna drew on its power, it was drawing on his evil. You were right, Gran Herdalen, when you said the tree was not Huskvarna's any more. But it was not Ket's. No, Ket was its. And Huskvarna was its. The more he used it, the more it was using him. The Talende Tree gives out, the Larch was sucking in. And it nearly won. The glowing shape that twisted and turned was the tree itself, with Ket trapped inside it. No wonder it looked evil to you, Bjørk Kinnekulle. If you had lost, it would have sucked you in too, Gran Herdalen. And it would have taken you too, Ace Moseley, and you, Will Moseley. And then how powerful would it have been, with spirits like yours at its disposal? Already, it had been spreading a contamination through the roots. With all that fresh power, it could have reached Norway. It could have killed its rival.
And then, it would have drawn sprites to itself, to listen to it, to hear evil thoughts and be inspired by dreams of power and domination. Huskvarna – by now a worshipped dictator – would have led sprites into a war with humans, a war they could never win. And that would have been the end of the realm, for ever. So yes, you could have broken the realm that night, if you had lost. That was what you risked.”
Yes, thought Will, overwhelmed. That was it. When Bjørk said he asked himself what would happen if the tree won... he saw who was really doing the fighting, and for a second I glimpsed the danger.
“But because you didn't understand the risk, you dared. And you won. You have not broken, you have made. Victory is yours.”
“Thank you,” whispered Gran. “I... had no idea. I need to think. To risk so much... that was never my intention. I'm still trying to understand... so the crack, was that when Ket was freed from the tree?”
“No, I do not think so. That happened when the light flared too brightly to look at. No, the crack was a physical thing, in the very earth. The colonel said it sounded as if the earth was cracking. That was the roots in the earth breaking away from this new tree of power, breaking away from the contamination it was spreading. Tell me, what night was this, what date?”
“Er, I'm not sure,” said Gran. “Does anyone know?”
“December 16th,” said Sizzle. “Four days before the full.”
“On 17th, I was in a place called Duisburg, in the garden of an Ally. Clover, where are you? Ah, there... what did I say to you, that night in the garden?”
“I remember it well,” said Clover. “You said, 'the roots feel stronger today'.”
“And that is why the roots felt stronger. When Huskvarna damaged the Talende Tree, he damaged every plant in the realm. When you brave sprites defeated this Larch of Power, you strengthened every plant in the realm.”
“Every plant?” said Rose. “Even him, even the Talende Tree?”
“Oh, yes,” said Calla. “Can't you feel it? Even here, the ground is throbbing with life. Oh, you have saved the realm indeed, more than you know. Watch for the spring, oh yes, indeed. Watch for the spring.”

Calla often left people speechless, but never more so than today. There was just too much to think about, too much to take in. Gia came to the rescue, as she so often did, with some calm and helpful words.
“Thank you, Calla, for your wise insights. Thank you, Bjørk, for your testimony. And thank you, Gran and all your team for what you have achieved for us all, though thank you hardly seems enough. I am so very grateful that you all survived this ordeal and that you won. I feel utterly overwhelmed by what I have heard.” She looked around at the crowd. “This is not a day for discussion and argument, but for reflection. Take a break, take time to think. We will resume tomorrow.”
Quietly, the crowd seemed to come out of its stunned daze, when a goblin decided this wasn't a cheerful enough ending at all to what had seemed to him a very exciting story.
“Three cheers for Gran Herdalen and the little twins!” he shouted, and he got a good response. Cheers and clapping and laughter sent them all on their way with lightened hearts. All except Ace, who was muttering furiously. Gran valiantly suppressed a smile.
“Your spirit is too big to be affected by hurts that were well-meant,” he said. “Come for a walk, and tell me what you think of Calla Babele.”
“Yes,” said Will. “Come on, Ace, show me the place where the eastern army met up before the attack.”
No-one tried to stop them wandering off on their own. Discussing the layout of the place and locating the stream and the sandy beach gave them something to do and got them away from other people. Will had heard all about the attack, of course, but it wasn't until he saw the places that he could really visualise it. From the beach, they followed the route the army had taken that day.
“Maag and Campanilla were my markers,” Gran recalled. “I didn't know them then, but they did a great job.”
“Wish I'd been here,” said Will. “To liberate a prison camp, what an achievement. I can't imagine what the place was like, but I'm glad you demolished it. But I'm glad they're rebuilding here, too. Parliament chose the spot – and it's a wonderful forest – but it's the army that's rebuilt it, so it belongs to everyone now.”
“I hear England 3 did a lot of the building,” said Gran. “You've been magnificent, all of you.”
“I don't feel magnificent,” said Ace. They were coming into sight of the new buildings now, coming back to where other people were. He jumped up to perch on a dry branch and the others followed him. “I feel guilty for being in a stupid prophecy in the first place. As if, if we'd blown it, it would've been my fault.”
“Prophecies are like dreams,” said Gran. “Open to interpretation. Calla sees things. Fair enough, she was always well tuned-in to the Enlightening Tree and apparently that wasn't such a bad thing as I always thought. But some of the things it's said and done have been evil and twisted, I know that for a fact. It's why I never let the army use potions. But now, I am wondering. Trying to be fair. Was it just more susceptible to the Larch's poison?”
“It's a good point,” said Will. “Before Huskvarna, it may have been all that Calla believed it to be.”
“Clover thinks Calla's great,” said Ace. “And I do like the way she doesn't beat about the bush. She's direct, she never wastes a word.”
“True, that is good,” said Gran. “I must get over the fact that she used to be in central cabinet. She's met the Tree now, and she's going round telling parliament that she was wrong. That's got to be helping. You do have to honour someone who's honest enough to admit they were wrong.”
“I believed her, when she was explaining it all out,” said Will. “There was something Bjørk said that bothered me. How could that light look evil if it was Ket? It was the Larch, trapping Ket, and it was beautiful and it was evil.”
“Yes... yes, you're right, Will,” said Gran. “What Bjørk said bothered me too, but she nailed it.”
“I honestly don't have a problem with her or with any of it,” said Will. “I'm glad we didn't know what a risk it was, but it's over. All that evil, gone for ever. So what's still bothering you, Ace? I know something is.”
“Not the outcome,” said Ace. “The outcome was worth all of it. It's that prophecy. I can still hear Blanche quoting it to me, and reading that letter from the Premier, trying to bribe me away from the army. Why? Why me, when really it was all of us, all four of us?”
“Yes,” said Gran. “I understand. I do see what you mean. The double image that Calla saw, merging into one, could have been you two, or me and Ket, or even Ket and the Larch. Probably all of those. So why did she focus on you as the one? There must have been a reason.”
“Yes,” said Will. “There was. You tipped the balance, Ace. You were the one who saw that Huskvarna was jealous. How did you know that?”
“Ah,” said Gran, on a long drawn-out sigh, as if the final piece had fallen into place. “Gran Starheim.”
“Yes,” said Ace, remembering. “Concentrating on you, your name... the thought of him intruded. I saw his jealousy and then saw the same in Huskvarna.”
He was quiet then, and so were Will and Gran, giving him time to think.
“OK,” said Ace finally. “That does help, actually. Any one of us might have thought that, it just happened to be me. I can accept that and let it go. But I'd like you to promise, and I will too, that if anyone starts fussing about me, or about me and Will, we all just say, 'Actually it was all four of us', and shut them up like that.”
“I promise,” said Will.
“Agreed,” said Gran.
“Good,” said Ace. “Then that's quite enough about me. Talk to us, Gran. Tell us how it felt and how it feels now.”
“Yes,” said Will. “That's what we're here for.”
“Ket's free,” said Gran. “That's the main thing. I'm glad I didn't know he was in danger of – what's the right word? - fuelling, perhaps... fuelling an evil tree of power. But he's freed from that danger, too. Compared to that, it doesn't matter how I feel. You know that.”
“Yes, we know that,” said Will. “So stop fobbing us off. How do you feel?”
Gran almost smiled, and laid his chin in his hands.
“Drifting,” he said. “Content, but unable to focus. Frightened of the emptiness of the future. But I'm still head of Land Forces. There are things we need to be doing but I can't think what they are. I have duties that I can't fulfil. I'm going to go to the Commander and offer her my resignation.”
“She'll be waiting for you,” said Ace. “And General Arley and General Stalden will be conveniently close by, all ready to talk you out of it.”
“No. My work is over.”
“Who could possibly take your place?” demanded Ace.
“Bjørk could,” said Gran. “Yes, you know I'm right. So I'd better go and get it over with. Where will she be?”
“In her house,” said Ace. “Any of England 3 will know which one it is. Or Kiefer, he's always on the spot, helping people.”
“What are you two going to do?”
“Round up all our old team,” said Ace. “We can't have Hogweed, but everyone else is here and Will's not seen them yet.”
“Wayne's here?” said Will. “Of course, yes!”
“He is. And Stan too, we've adopted him. Yesterday, while you were still asleep. You have to come and see them all!”
“Off you go,” smiled Gran.
He watched them on their way. So young still, and resilient. They would never forget, but they would be all right. That was another thing to be grateful for, thought Gran. He jumped down from the branch and went to enquire for the Commander.

He found her alone, sitting on a bench outside her door. He sat down beside her.
“I know what you've come to say,” she said. “And the answer's no. I won't accept it. Not yet, anyway. We're nearly there. Nearly ready to sign a peace treaty, nearly ready for the realm to vote. We may have to re-organise. A lot. Please stay till then. I need you.”
“You need someone with his head together. There must be so much to sort out! I can't even think.”
“Actually, there isn't. Yes, the Hills are releasing their prisoners. All of them. General amnesty to celebrate the forthcoming Peace Treaty and the first sprite elections. And yes, some of them are troublemakers and are ganging up. But it's under control, that's the thing. 1st Regiment are still out there and there is nothing going on that they can't sort out locally.”
“Oh,” said Gran. “OK, I can wait, if it will help. But I won't change my mind.”
“Thank you,” said Gia. “It will be a big help. And if you really don't change your mind, then that's different, of course. But why did you never tell me?”
“Oh, you know. No special treatment. And by the time I met you, I'd managed to lock it down. Cope. Play a waiting game with him.”
“I understand. I'm so glad for you that it's over. I had no idea, when you left, that it was such an enormous issue. An evil tree of power! It doesn't bear thinking about.”
“No, indeed. Gia, I had no idea either, when we left. Not until today, when Calla spoke, did I really understand all of it.”
“She is awesome. You know, Strelitzia has been a big help, getting everyone to stop moaning and look to the future. But she's not a patch on Calla. She talks,” said Gia dreamily, “to Judge Kokořinsko as if he were a particularly dim-witted six year old.”
That made Gran chuckle.
“I hear your lovely hall has a gallery,” he said. “I might have to come and have a listen.”
“Come and have a look round, while it's empty. I'll come with you.”
“Yes,” said Gran. “I'd like that.”

Gran was expecting to be impressed – just the outside had told him that this building was something special – but he hadn't expected to be knocked nearly speechless.
“But... but, the pillars! Wielkopolska!”
“They're not copies. They're the real thing. Salvaged from the destruction.”
“Who did that?”
“Droz Zlatni.”
Gran stared at her. “You're joking!”
“No, it's true. And Gus Thurlgrove designed it, and over fifty sprites worked on it. Army, volunteers and Special Brigade.”
“Look at the attention to detail! And the skill... those windows! It's absolutely beautiful. Right in every possible way. This was built to last, wasn't it?”
“Unconsciously, I think, but yes. There will be a parliament, I think, when the voting is done, a new, different parliament, and this will be its home.”
“Yes,” said Gran. “I can see that. And the army? We will still be at Fjaerland?”
“Oh yes,” said Gia. “That's going in the Peace Treaty. But not alone. When you feel up to it, go and have a talk to Luke Olt and Saul Lavall. You'll be amazed when you see what they're working on.”
Gran was getting interested despite himself.
“So how are all these votes going to happen?”
“By phone, mostly. The old out to the Hills, then out again method, speeded up by using the phones. We're having a trial run right now, a competition to name this place, and we hope results will start to arrive tomorrow.”
“And the voting, what do people vote on?”
“Not on every proposal. That wouldn't be practical. They vote first for a pattern, a pattern of government. Then they vote for people, to fill the chosen pattern. The elected people will have all the conference proposals to work on. They can use them as they are, or amend them, or start again if they want to. Final decisions have to be theirs.”
“And what about a queen?”
“Calla advised leaving it alone for now, and I think she's right. Some people feel they want a queen and others feel they don't. No-one can change the way they feel.”
“I see,” said Gran. “But votes, yes. They should have had votes in the first place. That's why it never worked.”
“I think this fresh start will work. It's true that no-one voted for all the people here now, but this isn't just twelve colonies, this is all sorts of people from all over the place, and they are only choosing the patterns for the whole realm to vote on.”
“So why can't one of the patterns have the option of a queen?”
“Because of the way we agreed to make decisions. Two-thirds majority of delegates, plus unanimous agreement of me, representing the army, Hársfa Héfiz, representing parliament and Mento Zsennye, representing Special Brigade.”
“So who's being awkward?”
“Zsennye. The Senior Envoy doesn't want a queen, but he doesn't mind the option being included. Zsennye objects even to that.”
“Ket always wanted a queen.”
“So to you it means even more. I understand. It's what a lot of us were fighting for. I am watching straws on the wind, Gran. Don't despair. We haven't lost yet.”
Just then, the door opened, a head looked in and Kiefer came running over.
“Hello, sir! Sorry to bother you, Commander, but there's an urgent message from the elf on phone duty. Møllehøj Hill and Olt colony both say they're getting lots of entries not in English or German, and they want to know if they should translate them or send them as they are.”
“Thanks, Kiefer. I'll come and sort that out.”
She started moving again and so did Gran.
“You're still head of Land Forces,” she said, “but you're on two weeks leave, starting now. What would you like to do?”
“Something hard and simple. I'm so tired of thinking.”
“Well, there's plenty of that sort of thing going on. Have a wander round. You'll find something, I'm sure.”

When Gia had gone back to work, Gran spent a little longer looking round Rowan Hall and remembering Rowan Harpsden. Then he stepped outside and walked around. Because the conference was taking a break, there was a holiday feel to the place, quiet but cheerful. He saw Ace and Will and all their old team mates chattering together outside some workshops. He saw Sizzle and Suzette and Gazania dancing in the forest fringes with all the other imps. He saw Dub and Lupa outside a canteen, enthralling a crowd that included Droz Zlatni and his friends, with graphic details of their recent adventures, and no doubt including far more wolves than there had actually been. Good, that was very good. They were all beginning to remember they had other friends, were part of many teams.
As well as that, he saw how much work was still going on, not just building, but planting and mending and making. Former enemies were working cheerfully together. It wasn't just in the hall that peace was being made. Then he saw some old friends, the team of Czech goblins that had been with him since Wielkopolska. They were carrying big stones from the forest and cracking them, to lay paths where paths were needed, now the snow had gone.
“Hello,” said Gran. “Great to see you all again. Would you mind if I joined in?”

Gran worked with the goblins for two days. He was strong enough to match their pace and not hinder them and he found the repetitive work soothing. It didn't stop him thinking but it seemed to free up space in his mind for him to get the thoughts under control. At night, he returned to the tent to sleep and to watch over his Rogue Unit. If any of them had seemed to be struggling, he would have set his own needs aside, but they all seemed to be returning to normality at a sensible pace. They'd spent the first couple of days catching up with everyone they knew, and admiring Rowan Hall. By the third day, they were joining in with things. Gran watched carefully, without looking as if he was watching. Dan and Carda had rejoined their old unit, with Captain Zawoja. Maag and Campanilla had gone scavenging with Rose Moseley and the imps had flown with them, eager to explore. Bjørk and Hagtorn had gone into the forest with Heldreich Pesentheim and Buchel Arnsberg, to select fallen wood of the finest quality for building work. Most of the elves were working together on a pipe to bring water from the nearest stream. Gran could hear them talking and joking in the distance. But where were Ross and Gran Starheim? He was a bit worried about them until everyone streamed out of the hall at midday and he realised they'd been listening to the debates. That was all right then; they were serious-minded, those two, natural they should take an interest.
So many people were around now, that Gran and the goblins stopped work too and went to get a drink. There, they saw a fairy flying over from the direction of the phone tree.
“General Arley!” she called, before she'd even landed. “The competition results have come from Essen!”
“It's worked?” gasped Madge loudly. “That's amazing. Thanks, Jenny. Let's have a look then. My word, this is excellent. Look at these statistics! Some with higher numbers and some with lower, but that means at least we're reaching everywhere. And the real voting, when it starts, will get higher numbers, for sure. I must go and find the Commander.”
“But ma'am, who won? What name was chosen?” demanded Captain Zawoja.
“Oh! Yes, of course you want to know that. So do I, really, I was just getting excited by how well it had worked.”
“It's on the other sheet,” said Jenny helpfully.
“Ah yes, I see. Oh, this is very interesting. A clear winner, because the same name was chosen by 10% of entries. Lots of variants according to language, but basically Heart of the Forest or Forest at the Heart. And the name that has been chosen is the German version, Herzenwald.”
“Oh, yes!”
“That's beautiful!”
Watching the cheerful celebrations gave Gran a curious feeling he hadn't know for a long time. So long, he could hardly put a name to it. There was so much optimism here, so much hope for the future. There it was again... what was that strange, fluttering feeling? And why here, why now? But now he knew what it was. It was excitement.

When Rose heard that she had been one of the people to choose the right name, she was utterly delighted. She had already grown fond of the beautiful place and now it won an even more special place in her heart. She knew the Peace Conference would soon draw to a close, and she knew that Madge and the Commander and General Stalden were discussing how soon they could get people back to Fjaerland, but it just made her more keen to spend as much time as she could out in the forest.
Watch for the spring... Rose had really taken those words to heart and she watched the signs with the greatest care. It was slow at first, of course. It always was. First the hazel catkins and the celandines on the forest floor, and white wood anemones. Then the grass began to look a little greener, as a few new shoots came through, at the same time as the leaf buds began to swell, sticky and ready to burst. And at dawn, the forest filled with birdsong, so she could hardly bear to stay in bed and went out to fly through the trees just for the joy of it, and to see what had changed since yesterday. Maple leaves just a few millimetres bigger, a little white blossom on the blackthorn, squirrels beginning to chase around. By the middle of March, the forest was trembling on the brink, and just as Calla had predicted, the Commander announced that they were ready to sign the Peace Treaty, just as the sap began to rise. The Commander requested that all work should stop the next day, and that every sprite around, including those from Bodenmais colony, should come to the signing ceremony at 10 o'clock in the morning.

Rose and Clover joined the throng, to see a dais had been set up, with a table on it and four chairs beside it. On the table was a finely bound book and a pen. Just before ten the Commander came out, looking very trim in her grey suit. She was joined by Mento Zsennye, also smart in the uniform of Special Brigade, and by Dziki Czosnek and Hársfa Héviz, the Senior Envoy. They took their seats and waited, talking quietly, and then the Commander rose to speak first.
“Sprites of the realm, I invite you to witness the signing of the Herzenwald Peace Treaty, which we will now read to you all.”
She opened the book and began to read.
“We, the undersigned, representing army, parliament, Special Brigade and Free Sprites, agree to cease all hostilities and agree to use all possible influence we have over our supporters to do the same.
We, having brought together sprites of every order and nation to discuss the future of the realm, present to the realm the results of our discussions, called the Herzenwald Conference Proposals.”
She passed the book to the Senior Envoy, who read on.
“We acknowledge we have no authority to implement any proposal. Decisions need to be made, but only by those whom the whole realm has had a voice in choosing. We therefore undertake to organise elections, as soon as may be, for a new parliament and we agree to abide by the results of those elections, and by the decisions made by the elected sprites, and we call upon all sprites near and far to do the same.”
Then the Senior Envoy passed the book to Dziki, who read:
“We acknowledge that some sprites, to be called Free Sprites, reject all forms of government. They will not vote. They will roam wherever they choose and no-one will interfere with their right to do so. In return, they will undertake not to interfere with settled colonies. If the Free Sprites need to contact the rest of the realm, their appointed leader may come to Herzenwald at any time and will be accorded the same courtesies as any other leader of the realm.”
Finally, Dziki passed the book to Mento Zsennye, who read:
“Just as there will be a new parliament, there will also be a new army. All former army members and all former Special Brigade members are welcome to be part of it. The army will be based at Fjaerland and the parliament at Herzenwald. Both Herzenwald and Fjaerland belong to the realm and any sprite whatsoever may come and go to either place at any time, for any reason.”

When Colonel Zsennye had finished reading, he set down the book and signed it, followed by the three others. They all shook hands with each other and all the delegates started clapping, followed more warily by the rest of the audience. Some of them hadn't heard all they wanted to hear.
Then the Commander addressed the audience with a smile.
“The Peace Conference is over. I wish to pay tribute to all the delegates, whose hard work and willingness to listen and to think to the future have brought us to this point. Thank you, all of you. And thank you also to all the sprites here who have worked so hard behind the scenes to make our work easier. Some of you, I know, now wish to go home. There are many judges and senior sprites here who are sorely needed elsewhere and others who feel their work is done. But if you can stay, please do. We have elections to organise and we would like to ensure a smooth handover.”
“Elections!” shouted someone. “But we wanted a queen!”
Mento Zsennye stepped forward to answer.
“There will be two sets of elections,” he said. “The first is to choose what sort of government the realm will have. There will be six patterns to choose from. All of them involve a parliament of one sort or another. None of them includes a queen. The very idea of a queen is out of the question. The second set will be simpler and faster, where sprites are elected to fill the roles the chosen pattern requires.”
“It's okay,” murmured Clover. “Look at the Commander.”
Rose saw the Commander make a slight gesture with her hand, unseen by the others on the dais. Just a raised hand, palm down, rocked a couple of times from side to side. To every army sprite there it clearly said, It's all right. Leave it for now.
So although there was only sporadic applause at that point, at least there wasn't open anger and disruption.
“Keep faith,” said Clover softly. “It was insanely hard even to get to this point. It's going to be all right. In the end. I don't know how. I just hope.”

That didn't sound very reassuring to Rose. She couldn't believe that having a queen wasn't even one of the choices. But she could see that the Commander wanted the question left for now, and Dziki Czosnek was speaking.
“A good winter's work,” she said, “but I'm not staying in one place a day longer. I wish you all the best for your elections and your parliaments and what-have-you. I'm off to the high mountains and I invite all Free Sprites to come with me. Say your goodbyes, we're off!”
With that, she herself said goodbye to the Commander and the elves and jumped down to the ground. The former prisoners, the ones who'd been gang members, had been forewarned of this. They lined up and fell in behind Dziki, waving and calling goodbye as they walked away.
“Goodbye! Good luck!”
Rose clapped them on their way with the rest of the audience, and watched as Hársfa Héfiz then stepped forward.
“There is one more thank you to make,” he said. “I would pay tribute to Gia Biagioni, whose vision created this opportunity and whose patience and fairness did so much to achieve success. On behalf of all at this conference, thank you!”
This time, the applause was whole-hearted and loud. Gia shook hands once again with him and Colonel Zsennye, then tried to settle the audience down.
“Thank you! I would like a few volunteers to transform and go into town to buy some beer,” she said. “All right, all right, not all at once! Party tonight. Then tomorrow, all hands to the phones.”

“Mento Zsennye,” muttered Ace, taking his first sip of beer. “Who does he think he is? 'The idea of a queen is out of the question', indeed. Not to me, it isn't. Not to a lot of us. What's going on? Clover, you've been in the debates, tell us what's going on.”
Everyone was outside, relaxing in large groups around braziers, enjoying beer and many other drinks that the Elf Squadron had provided.
“Loads of people did proposal papers,” said Clover. “Most of them were accepted. Conference people just added things here and there, or rejected some small detail. Even Sergeant Olt's proposals for re-organising Fjaerland. But Madge's proposals about a queen weren't accepted at all. She was great, she pointed out everything important, like a queen being a figurehead, and because she doesn't belong to any group, every group can give her loyalty, and tradition being important for its own sake. But still the majority wouldn't stick it. Trouble is, they get all that. They say a president could pretty much do it instead.”
“So what they really mean is they don't want a human?” said Betch.
“Yes,” said Clover. “The vote was lost even to include a queen as an option in these patterns we have to vote on.”
“What does Calla say?” asked Rose.
“Nothing,” said Clover. “She just looks at people who mention it – for or against – with a kind of baffled pity, like Will does at someone who's managed to reverse the polarity of their phone battery by plugging it in the wrong way round.”
Will laughed and shook his head, but Ace pounced on that.
“Maybe she knows something, then. Something she can't explain, because if you need to ask the question, you won't understand the answer.”
“It could be,” said Debin. “By the way, this beer is excellent!”
“Ha, yes, Czech beer is the best!” said Dub.
Debin lifted his bottle in salute.
“Calla has known Mento Zsennye for a long time,” he said. “Perhaps she thinks he might change his mind?”
“He's a good soldier, and a good leader,” said Wayne. “Wouldn't you say so, Stan? But a bit stubborn.”
“I don't think he's as clever as the army leaders,” said Stan. “But he's just as influential. If he did change his mind, other people would follow him.”
“Cheer up, Ace,” said Clover. “If we don't get that – or don't get it yet – it's still only one thing. We've got peace. The Tree is getting stronger, and all sorts of really good things are going to happen.”
“True,” said Ace. He looked around at all these friends, old and new, and remembered that some of them probably weren't that bothered, but were too polite to say so. “I suppose if General Herdalen can put up with it, I can too. Fran, your glass is empty! Here, have a refill.”
“Thanks, Ace. Are we having any music?”
“No-one's got any instruments. But Collen Dolfawr didn't let that stop him. He picked on people from different countries to give us a song – unaccompanied – so later on I will be treating you to an acclaimed English – human – song.”
“Which one?” said Clover.
“Aha, you'll have to wait and see. There's dancing first, an imp dancing display.”
He said no more, just listened with interest as Maag and Campanilla started talking about how exciting it would be to have everyone coming to Fjaerland to meet the Tree.
Yes, it would, thought Ace. And of course it's true that lots of exciting new things will happen. But why can't one of them be a queen? If it was definite, if the idea had just been defeated, then I would just have to put up with it. And I would. But not even to ask the question, that feels so wrong.
The last time he'd been here and things had felt wrong, Gran had called him away and they'd all left for Sweden. Remembering that made Ace look at Gran now, seated not far away around another brazier where the Commander and her closest friends were gathered. Gran met his eyes and smiled, as if to say, It's all right.
Hmm, thought Ace. Interesting.
He lifted his hand in a gesture that was like a salute, and turned his attention back to Maag.

“Ace is worried,” said Gran to Madge, who was sitting next to him.
“I'm not surprised. The one thing he most wanted and fought for... when did he stop singing the Song for the Queen?”
“Oh, when we had left this place. We had to be quiet and careful and he knew that. Why aren't you worried? Or Gia?”
“Because Calla isn't.”
“But she was parliament! She was practically the spirit of parliament! I know she's met the Tree now, but why would she ever care about having a queen?”
“I know, Gran, but I think she has learned more from the Tree than we know about. She is wise enough not to speak before the moment is right. If she is content, it's because of the Tree, and if it's because of the Tree it must be all right.”
“Fairy logic,” groaned Gran. “I hope you're right.”
“Try not to worry, but think about your own future. What did Arda say?”
“'Years of patience rewarded by victory. And now, how empty you must feel'.”
“And is that right?”
“Not just empty. Hollow. No twin, no purpose. But curiously light and free, as if nothing really mattered any more. As if I was outside life, looking in. I imagine this is what it feels like when the Tree tells you that your time has come.”
Madge didn't make light of such feelings. After a thoughtful silence, she spoke again.
“Your news... Bjørk's report... changed things in there. The news of the danger we had been in, the terrible idea of an evil tree of power, it sobered people. Stopped a lot of bickering. You helped us get to this point, to the results you saw today.”
“Good. That's good, I'm glad. I mean, you all deserve this so much. You've worked so hard, been so patient. Done more than your share of compromising, I expect. And now, so many changes. Who is leaving, besides the Free Sprites?”
“Only the Gruski party so far. They are nearly all senior sprites, and from major colonies, they want to help organise the voting, and encourage everyone that they do need to vote. That splendid goblin from Pieria came up with a slogan: You don't have to vote, but if you don't, you can't moan later!”
Gran smiled. “Yes, that's good. Strong and simple! But when are we going back to Fjaerland? I want to see the Tree again. It's the only thing I can think of that I do want.”
“Gia? Gran is wondering when we're going back to Fjaerland?”
“Of course, yes. As soon as the second round of voting is underway. By the way, did you hear, new recruits turned up on 2nd February? We had a message from Pice. Only a dozen, but under the circumstances, it's remarkable.”
“No, I hadn't heard that! But that's wonderful, that means he's still able to call people, even now.”
“The call is probably quite faint,” said Madge. “Only the most alert heard it. Imagine what it will be like when he is fully recovered. And now that the larch is not draining his power. How loud will that call be then?”
“It's a wonderful thought!” said Gia. She looked at Gran. “This also is thanks to you.”
“It was all four of us,” said Gran.
“Yes, I know. But you were the one who hung on all those years. You have touched the lives of all of us and of future sprites too.”
“That's a bit too much to take in,” said Gran honestly.
“Then don't worry about it now,” said Madge. “Look, here come our imps. It's time for the dancing.”

Great cheers greeted the imps as they flew down into their places. There were seven of them and each was dressed in a colour of the rainbow, a simple dress with a belt, and into her belt was tucked a knife. Their scarred arms and their legs were bare and so were their feet. Gran soon picked out Sizzle in deepest indigo and little Suzette in red and Gazania in green. There was another face he recognised, someone who had passed through Fjaerland a few years ago. The other three he didn't know. First they circled, turning and twisting as they went, clapping with their hands held high above their heads, then did the same thing faster and faster until they shimmered into the air in flight and formed a living rainbow, circling wider at amazing speed. Then they landed again and stomped the earth rhythmically until everyone was joining in, banging the earth with the flats of their hands. Then they drew their knives and started throwing them to each other. No-one fumbled or missed a catch, they just carried on getting faster. The knives were flickering through the air in a silver pattern, as fast as shooting stars against the dark sky.
Finally, they circled again, making music by the rhythm of their feet on the ground, and clapping and slapping hands with each other, one after another after another as they wove in and out, passing to the right and then to the left, their hands like the sound of raindrops pattering on the earth, their feet banging down like a heartbeat, again and again and again. And the audience echoed them, until it seemed as if the ground was throbbing, reverberating with a life of its own.
Such a beautiful forest, Ket, thought Gran. The sap is rising and the realm's at peace. This is a good day.
There was no reply, of course. Gran hadn't expected one. What living sprite could ever be in tune enough to hear a message from there, wherever it was? But his thought had got through. He knew that as well as he knew anything. You could feel when a message had got through and when it hadn't, you didn't need to be a twin to know that.
Now you're free, you can hear me? I can still talk to you?
The imps finished their dance to a torrent of applause. Greatly shaken, Gran watched them go, glad to see that friends had saved places for them, saved beer for them.
They're all right, he thought to himself. They really are just fine. Stop worrying like an old fairy. Look, here comes Collen to open the singing. This should be good.

Collen Dolfawr, the army's finest musician, had a fine singing voice to match. He gave them a song in Welsh, strong and tuneful, about a soldier looking forward to going home from the wars. That went down very well indeed, and was followed by a French ballad (sentimental), a dramatic piece in Czech from someone who hadn't been to the mountain (incomprehensible) and a very fast piece in Spanish (very jolly, but he couldn't catch a word of it). Then Ace stood up to introduce his song.
“I learned this from a young elf called Aesculus, who learned it from a human. One of the first songs you learn in England, because it is EDUCATIONAL. I hope you like it.”
His face was so utterly serious that Gran's lip was twitching already. This was going to be funny. Ace took a deep breath and sang:

“Five little ducks went swimming one day,
Over the pond and far away.
Mother Duck said Quack, quack, quack, quack!
But only four little ducks came back.”

Ace stopped in mock indignation.
“You're supposed to join in!” he shouted. “Quack! Let me hear you! Quack!”
“Quack!” responded the crowd feebly, through its laughter.
“Quack!” roared the goblins, getting the hang of this.
“That's better!” beamed Ace. “Now for verse 2.
Four little ducks went swimming one day...”
This time the goblins were ready and roared out the QUACKS! Ace waved to them to come and join him and he was surrounded by goblins.
“Three little ducks went swimming one day,
Over the pond and far away.
Mother Duck said QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK!
But only two little ducks came back.”

For two little ducks, all the goblins were singing the whole verse with him and the QUACKS were accompanied by great feet stamping the ground. By one little duck, everyone in the place was singing, except the ones like Clover who were weeping hysterically. Ace's reputation for music among goblins had now gone international.

Then Droz Zlatni stood up.
“How am I supposed to follow that! I was going to sing Virujen U Te, but that's far too sensible. So I want every single person from east of Ljubljana – yes, even you, Judge Kokořinsko, and yes, you, Chief Lawyer Drina, to come and help me sing Eci Peci Pec.”
And they did! Gran could hardly believe his eyes as such stately creatures joined in with what was clearly a simple children's counting song, just as daft as Ace's. The laughter now was rippling constantly round the glade, tickling the tiny new-born leaves. Then they demanded Virujen U Te from Droz as well, and the gentle love song touched everyone's hearts, because everyone loved something.
By the end of the evening, everyone was dancing in intertwining circles. The braziers had died down and a chilly wind was blowing, but no-one minded. On and on the sprites danced, with no music but the rhythm of their feet. From the fringes of the forest, tiny creatures watched them, mouse and vole and shrew, and above them, clouds scudded across the moon.