“What is wrong, cousin?”
“Forge of Stone is here. He is the father of Unbounded Brilliance — my ancestor. He is claiming me as his child and wants to take me to Easternlands.”
“I will not allow it,” Windwolf snapped.
Oilcan breathed out in relief. “So, you can stop him?”
Windwolf looked angry. “I am not sure, but I intend to try.”
Apparently it was the arrival of the gossamer that triggered the gathering of domana. Prince True Flame was on the edge of the faire grounds, already exchanging introductions with Iron Mace. Forge’s First and Thorne Scratch weren’t with the knot of elves: apparently they’d gone on to Sacred Heart.
Oilcan was glad to note that Iron Mace introduced himself to Windwolf, meaning that he was lower ranked. Prince True Flame, though, in the end would be the one that decided Oilcan’s fate.
“Wolf Who Rules Wind.” Windwolf growled out his name and then turned to his cousin. “True, I will not have my territory plundered while I’m dealing with a common enemy. If they are not here to help, they are not welcomed.”
“They just arrived.” True Flame shifted the conversation to High Elvish and made a motion for Windwolf to stay calm.
For reasons that eluded Oilcan, the more polite the conversation, the faster the elves talked.
Windwolf’s response was machine-gun fast but courteous. “I will not stand by and let them take what is mine. It was agreed that humans would be considered neutral but under Wind Clan rule.”
“What is this?” Iron Mace noticed Oilcan and frowned. “You would deny us our own blood?”
Windwolf nodded. “If he does not want to leave Pittsburgh, then yes, I would deny you. He is not yours to take.”
Iron Mace waved a hand toward Oilcan. “He is — what? Thirty? Forty years old? He is not old enough to choose his clan. He is the clan of his birth.”
“I was not born into a clan,” Oilcan pointed out as calmly as he could in High Elvish. “Nor was my mother or my grandfather or his father.”
True Flame looked at him with surprise clear on his face. He glanced to Windwolf. “How is it that the one that is human speaks High Tongue better than the one that is an elf?”
Iron Mace plowed through any answer from Windwolf beyond a spreading of hands. “My sister’s son was lost to us. His children were born to the Stone Clan regardless if they knew it or not.”
Windwolf shook his head. “One’s clan is a personal choice. Loyalty must be freely given.”
“As I said.” Iron Mace raised his voice and talked faster. “He is not old enough to choose.”
None of the elves seem to be considering Oilcan as part of the conversation. They were like dogs fighting over a bone.
“Forgiveness.” Oilcan fought to stay civil. “I am a human, not an elf.”
Iron Mace didn’t even glance in Oilcan’s direction. “If he is domana enough to tap the Stones, then he must be considered an elf.”
Oilcan shifted closer to Prince True Flame. He wasn’t sure what it said that none of the prince’s sekasha considered him threat enough to block his move. It did not help his cause that he only came up to mid-chest on them.
“Honorable one, the question is not how much an elf I am, but if I’m an adult and can determine my own fate. By human reckoning, I reached my adulthood years ago. My mother gave birth to me when she was only a few years older than I am now.” Actually, she had been over a decade older, but it was close enough in elf years. “My grandfather died before he reached his triples. If you don’t consider me adult now, then I will never live long enough for you to see me as an adult.”
“Your grandfather died a double?” Forge joined the fray without bothering to introduce himself.
“He was ninety-eight,” Oilcan said. “His heart gave out.”
At least, that was what the coroner ruled. His grandfather had been fighting pneumonia for a week before he died. It was possible that if he had let them take him to the hospice and use magic to battle the illness, he would have survived.
“He was no taller than I am now. I am full grown.” Oilcan hammered home on the fact that he had a human lifespan. “I will not live to see my triples. The average lifespan of a human male is only mid-seventies.”
Only then did he see Thorne Scratch behind Forge. Her warrior’s mask slipped, and her eyes filled with sorrow. He wished she was close enough to reach out and take her hand, but he would have had to go through Forge’s Hand to get to her.
“How old are you now?” Forge dragged Oilcan’s attention back to the debate.
Oilcan sighed, hating to answer. “Humans reach maturity in less than two decades.”
“I realize that. How old are you?” Forge pressed for an answer.
“Twenty-two.” Judging by the dismayed looks all around, he had just reduced himself back to a five-year-old in their eyes. “Pittsburgh is my home and if I had to choose a clan, I would choose the Wind Clan. Because of the children, though, it would be best if I could merely stay neutral.”
“Wind Clan?” Iron Mace cried. “What idiocy is that? You are Stone Clan!”
“He is not!” Tinker pushed her way through Windwolf’s Hand to stand between Oilcan and the Stone Clan domana. She was wearing shorts, a Team Tinker T-shirt, and tennis shoes. She had her right arm in a sling and was snarling in Low Elvish. “He’s old enough to decide his clan, and he decided to be neutral, so back off!”
“Who is this?” Iron Mace demanded.
“This is Beloved Tinker of Wind.” Prince True Flame gave Windwolf a look that clearly demanded his cousin to take control of his child bride. “She is the Wind Clan domi.”
The Stone Clan continued to look confused.
“She is my cousin.” Oilcan added the High Elvish term that clearly mapped out how they were related. He shifted back to Low Elvish as Tinker wouldn’t be able to follow the conversation otherwise. “But we were raised as brother and sister.”
Forge instantly grasped Windwolf’s reasons. “You returned her immortality!”
Iron Mace, though, focused on the negative. “You spell-worked one of our clan’s children?”
“I am not a child,” Tinker snapped. “And I’ve never been Stone Clan. I have always considered myself Wind Clan.”
“It is all we’ve ever known,” Oilcan added.
Iron Mace shook his head. “Clearly Unbounded Brilliance’s children lost all memory of who they really were along with their immortality.”
Tinker shook her head. “Our grandfather knew that we were once Stone Clan, and he chose not to have any communication with them.”
Their grandfather had viewed almost everything connected to elves with faint distrust. Oilcan had always attributed their grandfather’s wariness to the fact that Tooloo seemed incapable of telling the truth. Perhaps he knew that contacting the Stone Clan meant they would be scooped up and forced to be children the rest of their lives.
“Why didn’t he send word?” Forge asked. “I’ve been searching for nae hae for my son.”
“It does not matter.” Iron Mace snapped. “The Wind Clan has no right—”
“Wolf Who Rules offered, I accepted — there doesn’t need to be anything more than that!” Tinker shouted.
“Enough!” Prince True Flame roared. “We are at war. We do not have time for this petty bickering. Humans are considered adult at eighteen, so he can choose to be Stone Clan or not, if he wishes.”
“Forgiveness,” Oilcan said to Forge and to Thorne Scratch. “But I choose not to be Stone Clan.”
Oilcan fled back to Sacred Heart while Prince True Flame dragooned Iron Mace into the war effort and dragged him off for a war council. Forge begged off, pointing out that he could lay defenses but was generally a noncombatant. Prince True Flame allowed it, maybe seeing it as payment for losing his grandchildren, or maybe so he could babysit the two baby domana cousins.