The Generous Ones

There were many more Generous Ones in addition to the score who greeted them on the mountain top. Alexandra could see them watching from nearby mountains, or moving about on the trails and ledges below. Like house-elves, they seemed able to Apparate at will. Half of their greeting party had disappeared after their initial reception. After accepting Tiow's offer of hospitality, Maximilian had announced that he also had gifts to offer – which came as a surprise to Alexandra. She gave her brother a narrow look, but for once, held her tongue.

Now the two of them were following Tiow and the rest down an almost nonexistent trail that wound around the mountain. The Generous Ones walked easily on the narrow ledge, but it was a dizzying height with no room for a misstep for humans. Alexandra and Maximilian kept their hands on their brooms and avoided looking down.

None of the Generous Ones appeared to be armed, except perhaps for the wooden sticks a few carried in their hands. If they had elf-like powers, though, Alexandra wondered why they would need wands.

“Did they give you the flute, Charlie?” she whispered. She had tucked the flute back into a pocket of her cloak, next to her wand. The raven, sitting on her shoulder, made a trilling sound, a bit like a flute, and the Generous Ones stared in surprise for a moment.

The mountain wasn't really a very big one, but as Alexandra had little experience with mountains, aside from the small one that the Charmbridge bus ascended to reach the Invisible Bridge, it seemed quite large to her. The hike down the precarious winding path took a long time. She was relieved when they reached a valley at its base, though she wasn't sure what to make of the large gathering of Generous Ones waiting for them – over a hundred, easily.

She saw a single domed building made of clay, with smoke coming from a hole in the center of its roof. Not far off, there was a large, carved totem pole, rising high above the building, but Alexandra couldn't make out its details. This didn't look like a village – just a way-station, perhaps, or a meeting place of some sort. Certainly all these beings couldn't live here, not unless their homes were underground, the entrances invisible.

A very, very old individual, with skin that was nearly the color of the mountains around them, draped in a much fancier beaded vest and belt than any of the other Generous Ones, hobbled towards them, and met them at the base of the trail they had just descended.

“I am Cejaiaqui,” he wheezed. “To whom the years have been most generous.”

Maximilian paused, unsure how to respond, though Cejaiaqui's formal greeting seemed to call for some similar declaration.

“I am Maximilian King,” he announced, drawing himself up to his full height, and speaking in a tone that Alexandra would have found pompous under other circumstances. “But I greet you in my father's name, as Maximilian Thorn.”

If he'd been hoping that that name would elicit some kind of reaction from the Generous Ones, he was disappointed. They simply nodded. Maximilian looked at Alexandra. “This is my little sister, Alexandra Thorn.”

She bristled a little, but kept her mouth shut. She would have preferred to speak for herself, she didn't like being called, 'little sister,' and she wasn't sure how she felt about being introduced by her father's name. She knew Maximilian was trying to sound very serious and important, but she doubted he knew any better than she did how impressed the Generous Ones would be by his protocols.

“You have traveled far, and it has been long, long, since a wizard not bearing the Seal of the Confederation visited us.” Cejaiaqui squinted at them. “You are both young, even as humans count years, if I am not mistaken.”

Maximilian nodded. “We are, but our business is serious.”

“Business?” Cejaiaqui chuckled. “Always your people wish to speak of 'business.' Please, accept refreshment, and we shall discuss your 'business' afterwards.”

Maximilian paused. He and Alexandra exchanged looks. She remembered his warning about eating or drinking in the Lands Below.

“We do not wish to impose on your hospitality,” he answered carefully.

There was a murmur among the Generous Ones. Cejaiaqui's eyes narrowed.

“Surely you will not refuse it,” he replied slowly. “It is a poor guest who comes to the Lands Below and declines our generosity.”

Maximilian cleared his throat. Alexandra looked around; the elf-like creatures were all staring at them intently.

“We accept your hospitality gratefully,” Maximilian said. “But my sister cannot partake of your refreshments.”

Alexandra jerked her head in his direction, while the leader of the Generous Ones looked puzzled.

“She's a girl,” her brother explained. “Girls are required to eat in private.” He glanced at her. “They're also required to remain silent in public.”

Alexandra felt her face turning red. Charlie squawked, while Cejaiaqui squinted again, and scratched his pointed chin. “None of your people have mentioned that custom before.”

“My family is very, very traditional,” Maximilian replied.

And you are very, very dead, Alexandra thought.

Cejaiaqui studied the two humans, his face unreadable. “I see,” he responded at last. He nodded. “Very well. We will make your sister as comfortable as your customs allow.” He gestured for them to enter the domed building, and Maximilian walked ahead of Alexandra. He didn't look back, but she hoped he could feel the daggers she was shooting into his back with her eyes.

The clay meeting house was much larger on the inside than it appeared from without, but Alexandra couldn't tell as they entered whether it was a trick of perspective, or a feat of magic, like their lost tent and the Charmbridge library. As she and Maximilian sat down in front of a large fire pit, Cejaiaqui sat across from them, and other particularly wizened-looking elves sat on either side of him. Many more crowded into the dome; scores of them, surrounding them on all sides.

The Generous Ones were mostly unclothed, but what they did wear was obviously crafted with care: vests, belts, loincloths, necklaces, bracelets, here and there earrings and headbands, and dresses on a few whom Alexandra assumed were female. Their garments were made of hides and fur, their accessories of polished bone and rock, gems, and bits of precious metal.

A low hum filled the space even before she and Maximilian entered, and it became louder as more of the Generous Ones joined them. Alexandra realized after a while that some of them, mostly those sitting or standing around the edges, by the walls, were humming and chanting in low voices. It was a strange sound that seemed to reverberate in her breastbone and down her spine.

Not all of them were exclusively paying attention to their human guests; some Generous Ones greeted one another with what appeared to be ritualized exchanges of gifts, ranging from beaded garments and jewelry to carved wooden sticks, sharpened stone knives, polished skulls, skins full of liquid, and sacks with things Alexandra knew not what inside. Every offer of a gift resulted in the receiver offering something else in return, back and forth, sometimes as many as a dozen times in one exchange.

Confused, Alexandra and Maximilian sat in the center of the hubbub, as elves (she was sure now that they were elves, or at least some kin to the house-elves of Charmbridge and Croatoa) brought Maximilian cornmeal cakes, fried bread, some sort of jerky and berry mixture, and – Alexandra gulped – cooked snakes and scorpions, of the giant variety they had seen earlier. They also poured some sort of hot black liquid, which looked like tea but had a fruity smell that was completely unlike either tea or coffee, into a stone bowl for Maximilian to drink.

Maximilian accepted these offerings, and ate and drank, while the Generous Ones watched him intently. Alexandra fumed – not just because she was hungry herself (even the sight of a smoking lobster-sized scorpion did not make her stomach stop growling), but also because she knew he was violating one of the first warnings he'd given her, and he probably had no better idea than she did what the consequences might be.

There was nothing in the center of the pit but a flaming hide of some sort – Alexandra might have guessed buffalo or bear, because it was large and brown and furry, but they hadn't seen any buffalo or bears down here yet. It was obviously magical, because whatever it was was not consumed by the flames, and the fire never went out.

Aside from the food, none of the Generous Ones offered her or Maximilian anything. The two of them still smelled of smoke and burnt dung, though they had both tried to remove the worst of the stench with Scouring Charms on their clothes, but if their hosts noticed, they didn't say anything about it. Alexandra really hoped they'd offer somewhere to bathe later.

The feast went on for a long time, and Alexandra felt her legs going to sleep, while she grew hungrier and hungrier, and more cranky, sitting next to her brother watching him eat. Charlie fluttered to one of the plates holding the corn cakes and began nibbling on them. Alexandra hissed in alarm, and stared from the raven to her brother, wondering if Charlie, too, would be cursed in some way by eating down here. But her familiar had been gone for two days, and must have eaten during that time also. The elves pointed and laughed as the raven fed, and did not seem offended.

The Generous Ones spoke to one another in their own language, and none of them addressed the two humans. At long last, though, Cejaiaqui spoke aloud in English.

“Have you had your fill of our food?” he asked. Around him, voices stilled, though the meeting house did not become quiet; some elves were still talking to one another, though now in whispers or low voices. Most of those nearer to the fire, though, fell silent.

Maximilian nodded. “It was excellent, and more than enough.”

He hadn't made a face at anything served to him. Alexandra, by now, was hungry enough that she wouldn't have turned down snakes or scorpions.

“We are pleased that you have accepted our generosity,” Cejaiaqui intoned gravely.

Maximilian nodded again. “I also have gifts for you.”

Another murmur went through the gathering of elves.

“Indeed?” Cejaiaqui didn't have eyebrows, but his forehead rippled as his eyes widened slightly.

Maximilian rose, and reached into his pack, to withdraw a carefully wrapped bundle. He walked around the fire pit, to kneel before the leader of the Generous Ones.

“I bring gifts from my father, Abraham Thorn.” He laid down pieces of wood, ranging in size from small sticks to several that looked very much like unfinished wands, a pile of pressed leaves spilling out of a cloth sack, and a leather purse that jingled noisily.

“Cedar and sage,” said Maximilian. “Juniper and pine. And willow, yew, and rowan, from the Old World, cut and crafted according to the ways of our people.” He indicated the two bags. “Wizard tobacco, and goblin gold. Tokens of my father's regard. And... and generosity.”

The Generous Ones looked impressed, but for some reason, Cejaiaqui did not sound entirely pleased when he responded, “Generous gifts indeed.” One of the other elves brought the bag of wizard-tobacco to him, and he withdrew a leaf, rolled it between his fingers, and held it to his wrinkled knot-like nose, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes. Meanwhile, the other wizened elves at his side passed around the gold coins.

“Of course you have seen only the smallest portion of our generosity,” Cejaiaqui announced. “Do not think we are done bestowing gifts upon you! But if these gifts are from your father, we must know how we can return his generosity.”

Maximilian smiled. “There is only one thing that he desires, for which you can ask any gift within his power to give.”

Cejaiaqui open his mouth to respond, but Maximilian continued speaking, and the ancient elf closed his mouth. Another murmur went through the assembly. Alexandra thought perhaps Maximilian was being too abrupt, but she stifled her impulse to say something.

“My father wishes to be able to come and go, to and from the Lands Below. He desires the gift you have given the wizards of the Confederation,” Maximilian said.

The conversations around the room didn't all cease at once, but the elves nearest the fire fell silent immediately, and then others began whispering in the ears of their neighbors, and as word spread (Alexandra thought that some elves were translating, and not all of the Generous Ones understood English), even the chanting and humming of the singers came to a halt. Maximilian and Alexandra now had the undivided attention of every elf in the chamber.

“Your father sent his son to ask for this thing?” Cejaiaqui demanded, in that creaky, dry voice.

Maximilian nodded. “He could not come, because all entrances we know of are sealed and guarded. But if you grant him right of entry, he will treat with you himself.”

Cejaiaqui leaned towards his neighbor, and they began whispering to each other. The other elf elders were also murmuring to one another. Maximilian sat impassively, trying not to look nervous.

“And your father sent his daughter also, for this?” Cejaiaqui nodded towards Alexandra.

Alexandra frowned, while Maximilian hesitated, and then he answered, “Although she is young, she can be useful, and my father did not want to send me alone.”

It was all she could do not to say anything. The elves were all giving her unnerving looks now. Some of them were whispering to one another and shaking their heads.

“What your father desires, Maximilian Thorn, son of Abraham Thorn, is something we, the Generous Ones, can give, and by the stars above, none are more generous than we! But though we know it is the way of wizards to hurry, hurry, hurry –” Cejaiaqui made a gesture with his hand, as of a multi-legged creature scurrying through the air, and some of the other elves laughed; “– surely after a long and dangerous journey, you are tired, and we would hear your tale and offer you more gifts after you have had a rest.”

And a bath, thought Alexandra hopefully.

“And perhaps a bath,” Cejaiaqui added.

Maximilian nodded. “We thank you for your generosity.”

There was something a little unsettling about the way Cejaiaqui and his companions smiled at that, particularly when they looked at Alexandra, but abruptly, all the Generous Ones were talking again, and as conversation once more filled the room, several elves appeared at her and Maximilian's sides. Charlie fluttered to her shoulder and made agitated sounds, until she shushed the bird and looked at Maximilian questioningly.

“Where are you taking us?” Maximilian asked. “We, er, we'd rather not be separated.” Two different groups of elves seemed to be trying to pull them apart.

“Not far,” replied one elf. “Not far. Do you wish to bathe with your sister?”

“No,” Alexandra said hurriedly. Maximilian flushed. Then he reached into his pack, and pressed two more MRM cans and a bottle of water into her hands.

“Eat,” he murmured, “but don't accept any food or drink from them.”

The Generous Ones at his side heard this, and didn't look happy, but Alexandra nodded.

“Come with Siatani, human child,” coaxed one elf, whose voice was so high-pitched that Alexandra thought she was female, though she was wearing only a loincloth and several strings of shiny pebbles around her neck, and did not really look any different from the male elves.

She thought Siatani meant outside, and stepped towards the door they had come in through, but instead, she suddenly felt herself squeezed and compressed, as everything went black for an instant, and then she fell to her knees on a thick, fur carpet, and saw she was in a much smaller room, with clay walls and another fire. There was a large woven basket by the wall, with more furs in it – it reminded her of a human-sized bassinet for kittens or puppies. It did look very comfortable.

Charlie screeched. She reached up and stroked the raven's feathers. “Shh. Are you all right, Charlie?”

The raven chirped, a little weakly.

Besides Siatani, two other elves had accompanied them here. One was wearing a snakeskin dress, while the third, to Alexandra's surprise, wore what was obviously the remains of a discarded denim jacket, with brass buttons. It hung like a baggy, overly large robe on the small creature, and Alexandra thought this elf did not look like the other Generous Ones.

“Does Miss want a bath?” asked the elf in the denim jacket.

“Yes, please,” she replied, “but where's my brother?” She set down her broom, and stood up.

“Not far, not far,” the elf in the snakeskin dress assured her. Alexandra looked at the elf in denim, who snapped his fingers. To her amazement, a ceramic bathtub, complete with water faucets, materialized before her.

“You – you're an elf, aren't you?” she asked. “Er, I mean, I think you all are –” She looked around at the trio who had apparently been appointed as her attendants, and hoped she could manage not to offend them. They just blinked at her. She turned back to the first one. “But you're... different, from the other Generous Ones.”

Besides wearing the remains of a Muggle jacket, this elf's skin was lighter, and one ear was longer and more bat-like, like those of the elves she had seen in the wizarding world.

The other ear, though, looked as though it had been torn off.

“Quimley is not one of the Generous Ones,” the elf admitted, bowing his head.

“You came from the Lands Above, didn't you? From the wizarding world?” Alexandra noticed that Siatani and the other elf were both looking at Quimley with disdain,

Quimley nodded. “Once, Quimley was a house-elf and served wizards.”

“If you desire anything else, human child, Quimley shall attend to you,” said Siatani.

Quimley had not once looked her in the eye, and looking down at the top of the former house-elf's bare head, Alexandra now realized that the pale skin was covered with scar tissue.

“Does Miss wish to bathe now?” asked Quimley. Without waiting for an answer, the elf in the snakeskin dress rubbed her palms together, and water began magically filling the tub. Steam rose from the surface of the water. A shiver went through Alexandra; it looked so inviting.

“Take off your clothes, human child,” Siatani instructed.

Alexandra stammered. “I... that's not necessary... I mean, I can bathe by myself.”

She still wasn't keen on having attendants while bathing – and she was pretty sure that Quimley was a boy-elf!

Siatani looked irritated. “As you wish. We will bring you new clothes.” A gleam came into her eye. “A gift, from us.”

She turned away, clapped, and disappeared. The elf in the snakeskin dress did, too.

“Do you like it here, Quimley?” Alexandra asked abruptly.

Quimley paused – he had been about to disappear, too. He turned his head, so he could regard her from beneath lowered eyelids.

“The Generous Ones is generous with Quimley,” he replied. “Quimley will never leave. Quimley cannot go back to live with wizards.”

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly.

“Sorry?” Quimley looked surprised.

“Wizards... did they mistreat you?”

Quimley trembled a little. “Quimley does not say bad things.” He shook his head, and trembled more. “Quimley is a good elf!”

“I'm sure you are.” She looked down, and kicked the toe of her boot against the clay floor. “I'm not sure I've been a good witch.”

Quimley shuddered so violently, Alexandra hastily amended: “I try to be! I just meant... I have house-elf friends, back at Charmbridge. But I think I haven't always been as nice to them as I should have.”

“Friends,” Quimley repeated, with an odd expression.

“When I get back,” she vowed, “I'm going to do better. And I'm going to make my father do something about house-elves being mistreated.”

“Miss's father?” Quimley now looked even more confused.

“Abraham Thorn. He's a really powerful wizard. And he owes me a boon.” Alexandra's voice was determined, but Quimley gaped in astonishment.

“Miss's father is Abraham Thorn?” he gasped.

“You've heard of him?” She sighed. “I know everyone says he's Dark, but I'm not Dark, honest, and neither is my brother –”

“Abraham Thorn helped pass the House-Elf Protection Act,” Quimley murmured.

Now Alexandra was the one who blinked in astonishment. “You know about that?”

“Quimley... Quimley heard,” mumbled the elf, looking down. “Quimley's... masters... they did not like Abraham Thorn...” And then with a little moan, he disappeared.

Alexandra stared at the empty space where Quimley had just stood, and then looked at Charlie, who was now perched on the edge of the bathtub.

“That's not a birdbath, Charlie,” she scolded, as she took out her wand, the bone flute, her locket, and everything else that was in her pockets, and set it all on the rim of the tub, next to the non-functional faucets, where she also found a rough bar of soap.

She stripped off her soiled clothes. Wrinkling her nose, she dumped them all in a pile on the other side of the room, and then dashed back to the tub, because inside this chamber – wherever they were – the air was cold on her bare skin. She considered the MRMs she had set next to the tub, and her stomach rumbled noisily, so she picked up one can, and then dipped a toe into the bathwater.

It was nice and hot; nearly the perfect temperature. She smiled as she stepped in and slowly lowered herself into the water. She stretched out with a sigh, and grabbed the bar of soap.

Charlie was trying to balance so as to dip a beak into the water. Alexandra raised a foot and splashed the raven with her toes. Charlie screeched indignantly, and fluttered over to the bassinet.

“Troublesome!” the raven complained, while Alexandra laughed.

She scrubbed herself with the soap, and dunked her head underwater so she could lather and wash her hair as well.

“Oh, my God, that feels good, Charlie,” she groaned, stretching out in the warm water of the tub.

“Jerk!” Charlie exclaimed.

“Don't sulk, Charlie.” She sat up in the tub, and opened her Magically-Ready Meal. “Here.” She offered the raven a handful of crackers, the first thing she found in the can, while she drank some water from the bottle Maximilian had given her. Charlie fluttered back to her, and sat on edge of the tub to peck at the crackers.

Alexandra also found pretzels, sausage, and very hard cheese inside the MRM. She finished this off quickly, and was about to see what might be left, when she heard a pop, and then Charlie squawked in alarm.

“Miss?” whispered Quimley. Alexandra jumped, and then immediately sputtered and covered herself with her hands, dropping the MRM can as she sank into the water, submerging herself to her chin.

“Quimley!” she exclaimed. Quimley, in his old, worn denim jacket, was standing next to the tub, staring at his feet. Then Charlie angrily dived at the elf, who raised his hands to protect his face.

“Charlie, stop!” Alexandra cried. “Stop it!” She was already reaching for her wand, and then the elf disappeared.

“Please, Miss,” Quimley whispered, from the other side of the tub. Alexandra coughed and flipped around to face the elf again, still trying to stay completely underwater.

“Quimley!” she hissed. “I'm taking a bath!”

She knew elves were probably about as interested in naked humans as she was in naked elves, but she could still feel a flush rising to her skin, all over.

“Miss should not accept the Generous Ones' gifts,” Quimley whispered.

“What?” She paused, curiosity and worry replacing embarrassment. She set her wand down, and held up a hand, as Charlie was fluttering in circles and looked ready to dive at the elf again. The raven landed on the back of her hand instead.

The elf looked wide-eyed and apprehensive. “The Generous Ones' gifts is not gifts,” he whispered. “Every gift you accepts from them, gives them power over you.”

Alexandra's eyes drifted over to the bone flute, sitting next to her wand. “But we've accepted their hospitality... and a bath... and that flute...”

Quimley nodded gravely. “Unless Miss and her brother gives back better gifts, human children will not leave the Lands Below.”

She swallowed. Maximilian's gifts, of gold and tobacco and wands – she wondered what their worth was, balanced against what they had received.

“Siatani and Lialuco will offer Miss new clothes,” Quimley murmured.

“So I shouldn't accept them?” She turned her head, to look at the pile of dirty laundry she'd dumped on the other side of the room. She dreaded putting those grimy, dung-stained clothes back on.

“Quimley will wash Miss's clothes.”

She looked at the little elf, with the missing ear and the scarred scalp. “You don't have to do that, Quimley. You've already done me a huge favor. I'll figure out how to clean my clothes myself.”

She could wash them in the tub, she thought, and then try a Drying Charm. They might still be damp, and not entirely clean, but it was better than making the elf do her laundry.

“Dirty!” squawked Charlie. Alexandra glared and almost dumped the raven into the bathwater.

Quimley still didn't look at her, but the elf smiled, a little.

“Quimley is not a house-elf anymore,” he said softly. “Quimley does this for Miss as a gift. But Quimley hopes Miss will be generous to her house-elf friends.”

“Thank you,” she said, in a small voice, as the elf walked over to her soiled clothes. “Quimley?”

The elf paused, and looked in her direction again, without looking at her.

“What... what did the Generous Ones give you, that made you have to stay here?”

Quimley didn't answer at first. He slowly and quietly gathered up the smelly garments, without even wrinkling his nose. Finally, he stood up, holding her clothes, and spoke so quietly, she had to lean forward to hear him.

“Quimley is here because of what Quimley gave the Generous Ones,” he replied. His voice shook. “Quimley gave them the most terrible gift.”

She blinked, confused. She didn't understand that at all, but the elf clearly didn't want to talk about it – in fact, she suspected he was only replying at all because he was used to answering any questions witches and wizards asked.

“Are you going to get in trouble, Quimley?” she asked.

“It would be better if Miss doesn't tell the Generous Ones what Quimley has said to her,” he replied, still looking down.

“I won't,” she promised.

He nodded, and disappeared with a pop. Alexandra closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the edge of the tub, wondering what the cost of the 'gift' their father had asked for would be.

Siatani and Lialuco returned not longer after Quimley left, with a soft, beautiful, doeskin dress, a hair band, beads and feathers to tie in her hair, thick leather boots, and armfuls of bracelets and necklaces and other jewelry.

“Thank you,” Alexandra said carefully, “but I already have clothes.”

Unfortunately, she wasn't wearing any right now. Finding no towels, she had used one of the furs in the large woven basket to dry off, and now she was sitting in that basket, with something gray and scratchy wrapped around herself, while the two Generous Ones presented their gifts to her.

“Surely you would prefer clean, new clothes, human child,” Siatani urged.

“Surely you will not refuse our gifts,” coaxed Lialuco, the one wearing a snakeskin dress.

Alexandra was angry – if she accepted, the Generous Ones would put her in their power. If she refused, she was being rude. Their sly smiles and eagerness to shower her and Maximilian with 'hospitality' had taken on a whole new significance, but she knew she didn't dare tell them what she really thought of their 'generosity.'

“Quimley is washing my clothes. You said he'd attend to anything else I wanted.”

Siatani and Lialuco looked at one another, their large eyes narrowing a little.

“Of course,” Siatani replied pleasantly. “As a witch, you are more comfortable being served by Quimley's kind.”

Alexandra bit her tongue.

“Are you sure we cannot bring you food? Black tea or berry juice, corn cakes, fry bread, cooked fish or juicy bugs,” Lialuco offered.

“No, thank you,” Alexandra replied firmly. “I'll just wait for Quimley to bring me back my clothes, and then I want to see my brother.”

The two elves' faces hardened, just a little.

“Very well,” Siatani replied. She and Lialuco both clapped, and disappeared.

The basket full of furs was very comfortable, and Alexandra wasn't aware she'd fallen asleep until Charlie cawed again.

She opened her eyes, to find herself staring at Quimley. The ex-house-elf was standing there, holding her clothes, cleaned and neatly folded.

“Quimley is sorry to wake up Miss,” he apologized. Apparently old habits died hard.

Alexandra hurriedly checked to make sure she was still completely wrapped in the furs, and then nodded. “Thank you, Quimley. Really, thank you. I meant everything I said.”

“Quimley believes Miss.”

She took a deep breath. “One more thing. Do you know where my brother is, and what the Generous Ones are planning? I mean, about keeping us apart, or bringing us both back to that meeting place?”

Quimley shook his head. “Quimley thinks the Generous Ones will come for both children soon, but Abraham Thorn's son is in the house next to this one. Miss can step outside and see it.”

Feeling foolish, she nodded. “Thank you,” she said again, sincerely. “I have to get dressed now, Quimley.”

She hoped the elf would take the hint, and he did. He bowed his head, and disappeared with a pop. She immediately leaped out of the basket, and put her clothes on. She put her father's locket back around her neck, her charm bracelet around her wrist, the bone flute in her pocket, and grabbed her broom and her wand.

“Come on, Charlie,” she commanded. Charlie returned to her shoulder, as she marched out the door.

Outside, it was dark. Very dark. She craned her head up, and saw that they were at the bottom of a deep, deep chasm. Nearly vertical cliffs rose on either side of them, and with only a fraction of the dim light that suffused the Lands Below reaching down to where she stood, it was darker than a moonless night.

It was an exceedingly strange, dark place to put two clay guest-houses, but sitting side by side were two domes much like the one they had met the Generous Ones in, only smaller. As far as Alexandra could tell, there were no other dwellings nearby, and she couldn't imagine why anyone would want to live in such a dark, inaccessible location.

Reflecting that trying to make sense of things down here usually turned out to be futile, she walked to the other dome. Like hers, the entrance consisted of a large hide flap hanging over the doorway.

“Max?” she called out. “Are you in there? And dressed, hopefully?”

“Alexandra?” Maximilian responded. A moment later, he threw aside the hide covering the entrance. “How did you get here?” He looked relieved, and for a moment, she almost thought he was going to hug her.

“Right next door.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. Maximilian got a funny expression on his face when he saw, as she had, that their respective quarters had been next to each other all along.

Then her eyes widened, when she saw that under his cloak, he was wearing a jacket and pants made of buckskin, decorated with both paint and glass beads.

“They gave you clothes,” she groaned.

“I couldn't exactly refuse, could I?” He blinked at her clean clothes. “They didn't offer you any? I half-expected to see you again dressed like an Indian princess.”

She pushed her way inside, forcing her startled brother back into the dwelling with her. “Are any of them here?” she demanded, looking around.

“They said they'd let me know when you were ready, and we could rest in the meantime, but I didn't much feel like taking a nap –”

“Max!” she cut him off, turning to face him. “We can't accept any more gifts from the Generous Ones!” Quickly, she told him what Quimley had told her.

He grimaced. “That's going to make it difficult to negotiate.”

“Difficult? You can't negotiate with them! We're in over our heads! We've made contact – just tell them that our father wants to seal the deal, and let him come down here and figure out how to exchange 'gifts' with these sneaky little –”

“Our father can't come down here unless we bring him back the means to do so.”

“Well then, we tell him tough luck, he'll have to figure out another way. Let him find an obol!”

Maximilian took a deep breath. “And how are we going to tell him that if we can't get back? We have no choice, Alex. Somehow, we have to give the Generous Ones something that's worth our freedom, or promise them something that Father can give them.”

She ran her hands through her hair. “I hope you've got a lot more gifts in your pack.”

He looked worried, and then there was a pop. Three Generous Ones appeared behind Maximilian; two Alexandra didn't recognize, but the third was Siatani.

“There you are, human child,” said Siatani. “Good, good, you have found your brother.” Her expression didn't match her words; she looked annoyed.

“Our guests are rested and refreshed?” asked one of the Generous Ones who had apparently been sent to attend to Maximilian. “Can we bring more food, more clothes? Perhaps you would both like to sleep for a while...”

“You're very gracious... and generous,” answered Maximilian. “But we would like to speak to Cejaiaqui and the rest of your people again, at your convenience.”

Alexandra could not gauge the elves' reaction to that; they merely looked back at the humans blankly for a moment, and then nodded.

“Cejaiaqui and the elders remain at the Place of Exchange, enjoying your generous gifts. No doubt they will be pleased to speak to you again.”

“Good.” Maximilian smiled. “We have more gifts.”

“Do you?” Siatani smiled back. Her large eyes gleamed. “So do we.”