Page 74 of Obsidian Prince

The cypress man’s eyebrows scrunched for a moment, then cleared. “The weapon of light and sound.”

John nodded.

“I would have killed you all if the tiny warrior hadn’t used it.”

John grinned. “Well, then maybe not that sorry.”

The old Fae huffed, not quite a laugh. He wiped tears from his cheeks. His face showed no lines. He had to be centuries old, but he looked no older than a man in his early thirties. He looked at John Runningwolf for a moment. “You are Sioux?”

John nodded. “Lakota.”

“Why do you serve a white man?”

John’s grin widened. “The Colonel’s a long way from white, even in human form.”

“His power feels like the people from across the sea.”

Nudd explained. “His mother is a powerful Fae queen in Europe, but his father’s ancestors were Normals brought here against their will. No part of him is an invader or conqueror to this place. His father, grandfather, and great grandfather were all born within a hundred miles of where we stand. His ancestors lived by coaxing food from the earth with their hands. This land chose him.”

The cypress Fae closed his eyes as if what Nudd said caused him physical pain. “Four generations. So long.” He opened his eyes and his face was angry again. “And where are the principle people? Where are the people who were here for dozens of generations before that?”

John shrugged. “My girlfriend in college was Eastern Cherokee. She grew up near Maggie Valley.”

The old Fae gave a puzzled look.

“In the mountains, to the northwest about, um, about two- or three-days’ ride on horseback. I think. Pretty area.”

“Did they fight the ones who wanted to take our homes?”

“Eh, not really, no. The ones who didn’t go on the forced march mostly hid. Some of us Sioux fought, but all the wars all the tribes fought against the Europeans are over now, and um...” John rubbed the velvet short hair on the back of his neck. “We lost.”

The snarl appeared on the cypress Fae’s face for a moment, but then he sagged. “Lost. Long ago. While I slept and heard only the wind and the song of the brook. While I waited to die or for healing that didn’t come.”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” John gave him a sad look. “Things were bad for the Cherokee for a while. They got scattered all over. A lot of people died about two hundred years ago. About the time you went to sleep, I’d guess.”

“There was a village near here. Farms, homes. A young woman showed me newspapers. After just a little bit of practice, I could read them.”

John grinned. “Yeah, that was pretty cool. The Cherokee Phoenix. They still publish, although it’s in English these days.”

The man’s shoulders sagged again.

John shrugged. “The world changed. Not much point in being angry about what happened two hundred years ago. It eats you up inside, without bothering the people who did it in the slightest since they’re mostly long dead.”

“Two hundred years ago.” The cypress Fae closed his eyes again.

“Why did you sleep so long?”

“I was dying in body, tired in spirit. Bleeding inside and out. I thought to sleep forever here.”

John looked around the glade with the brook, the view of the hills, the fresh, alive feeling that indicated strong Green in the area. He nodded. “Not a bad place for that. If you want, you can go right back to sleep. No one’s stopping you.”

The man looked up at the sky. He let the dappled sun shine on his face and took a deep breath. “I am alive.” He nodded to Doctor Nudd. “Thanks to a healer of the people who invaded, I am hale. I have slept enough.”

Liliana’s attention was drawn back to her third vision, which she had focused on the line of people waiting to speak to Alexander. She saw a flare of orange rage as the pine-goblin who sneered at Siobhan earlier came close. Outwardly, he seemed as respectful as the others.

The spider seer stepped past the petite native wild hydrangea sprite swearing a heartfelt oath to the new land ruler, as if merely walking along the line. Her footsteps were as silent as she could make them. She stopped directly behind the goblin.

When the goblin stepped forward for his turn, he dropped to his knees with a flare of triumph and rage. He bared yellow spikey teeth at Siobhan where she stood in front of Alexander’s knees. As he touched the ground with his hand, Liliana felt the roots of the many trees move under the earth. Ignoring the sudden tight grip on her ankle, she popped out her arm blade and cut off the arm/branch that touched the earth just above what passed for an elbow.

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