He had to be missing something in the translation. “What is so odd about his name?”
Thorne gave him a strange look, as if he’d asked, “What’s odd about the sky being polka dot?”
“Until this summer, I was friends with only a handful of elves.” Oilcan ticked them off on his fingers as he gave their full Elvish names. Briar Rose. Snapdragon. Windchime. Misty. Owl. Raindrop. Their real names were long and complicated; it was one of the reasons that humans gave their elf friends English nicknames.
“Ah, I see.” Thorne pursed her lips together. “How to explain? When a child is born, it’s taken to a priestess to be named. She will see the shape of its future and give the child a name to guide it on that path. For example, I was given the name of Thorne Scratch, which suggests that I will bring harm to anyone that gets too close to me. Some would point at Earth Son’s death as proof that the priestess was correct with her warning. I would argue, though, that I did not have many choices as to who I could become Beholden to, since most heeded the warning of my name. One’s name is a double-edged sword, especially if it is filled with bad omens. It gives you direction but at the same time, it can hamper you at every step.”
“Moon Dog in winter over foreign mountains is a bad-omen name?” Oilcan guessed.
“It is filled with portents. It is believed the earthquakes and volcano eruptions happen most often when the moon is large in the night sky. The phrase ‘foreign mountains’ is an ancient term for a mountainous area that is unmapped and unknown and home to a powerful enemy. Lastly, winter is when Huunou decides if the souls he’s gathered are fit to be reborn into our world again. He is the god of death. That is why we burn our dead, so their souls are free to join Huunou in the sky. His hounds are said to escort souls to his palace for judgement.”
That would explain the “Halloween” part of the midwinter festival.
“His dogs are said to be divine and noble but ruthless,” Thorne Scratch continued. “They will ignore all pleas of the dying to carry out their mission. In the past, they were given to heroes to help them fight demonic beasts, change the course of rivers, throw down mountains, and slay evil gods. To be given such a name is to say that the course of your life will be legendary. You will be given an impossible task and will be expected to succeed. He has worked hard to live up to it. At the age of seventy, he decided to leave the temple he was born in and walk completely across the South Plateau and the Hill Region — three full mei—to study under Tempered Steel.”
Cold Mountain Temple was rumored to be in the same region as the Himalayan Plateau, which made a three-thousand-mile trek even more impressive.
“You will have to talk to him alone,” Thorne said. “To offer and accept — that is a very private thing that no one should come between. Not even as your First can I interfere.”
Oilcan stared at her, trying to understand what she meant until the light went on. “You think he came with us because he’s thinking of offering to me?”
Thorne’s mouth quirked into a frown that was instantly smoothed away. She was too on-edge to be natural; she was hiding behind a warrior mask. “I don’t know him well; he arrived at Cold Mountain Temple after I won my sword and left. He was there when I returned to the temple a few years ago; I was too wrapped up in my own concerns with Earth Son to give him proper notice. People like to talk, though, of the odd and mysterious. From what they told me, I thought nothing could pry him away from Tempered Steel’s side. He was driven to learn all that Tempered Steel could teach.”
In other words: I doubt he will offer to you, but I can’t think of any other reason for him to be here.
The holy warrior in question was sitting in a burgundy La-Z-Boy recliner, raising and lowering the leg rest.
After such a monumental effort to get to Cold Mountain Temple, why would Moon Dog leave? Why travel halfway around the world? It was possible that if Thorne had difficulty finding someone to take her because of her name, Moon Dog might be having the same problem. Did he hope to become Beholden to Oilcan?
The Harbingers had arrived while Tinker was playing hide-and-seek with Chloe Polanski, just hours after Forge transformed Oilcan into a full domana elf. Last week, Oilcan had been human with some residual domana powers. Last month, no one knew that the Dufaes had been originally elves. Last spring, only a handful of Wind Clan elves even knew that Oilcan existed.
The young warrior hadn’t traveled to Pittsburgh to seek out Oilcan.
Moon Dog could have possibly planned to offer to the three domana initially sent by the Stone Clan. He would have arrived a day or two ago to find Earth Son dead, Forest Moss clinically insane, and Jewel Tear captured by the oni. He probably didn’t know that Forest Moss had recovered enough to rejoin the war effort. He might not have heard that Jewel Tear had been rescued, depending on how long he’d been at Sacred Heart before joining the shopping trip. It was possible that Moon Dog didn’t realize that Oilcan had joined forces with the Wind Clan. It only happened yesterday. There had been no formal declaration beyond Oilcan painting his door blue.
The young warrior might not have gotten as far as Sacred Heart’s front door, considering everything that was going on outside.
That was a lot of “maybe” and “possibly” and “probably.” It made Oilcan uneasy. There was no clear, logical chain of events that would lead Moon Dog to the thrift store. Oilcan took a deep breath and flexed his hands. If it came to a fight, he should be ready. Still, his stomach was roiling as he moved toward Mood Dog.
The warrior seemed fixated on the chair, but as Oilcan closed on him, he said, “Kau, I was ikudae confused by this place. I thought it was a garorou but where is the chaviyau? And I always thought that a chair was a chair unless it was boudu or daeni. I never imagined that you could make chairs in so many assorted ways. These baviali move! Is that not waya?”
Moon Dog had an accent thicker than any elf Oilcan had ever met. He had heard echoes of it in Forge and at times Thorne and the kids, but nothing like this. Oilcan wasn’t totally sure what the warrior had said.
“This is a furniture store,” Oilcan said cautiously. “We’re here to purchase chairs and beds and such for my enclave. These children — most of these children — are part of my household.” He was careful to be exact because it could be considered lying if he made a mistake. He made a motion to indicate the kids scattered throughout the building. “Those that are not my Beholden are my domi’s Beholden and some of my close friends. Why did you come with us?”
Moon Dog paused, obviously thinking hard, before saying in what might have been English, “Size king?”
“What?”
“The frozen milk with sweets and fruit.” Moon Dog pointed toward the ice cream store.
“Ice cream?” That still didn’t explain why he was half a world away from his home, or what he was doing in the furniture store.
“Sebeyou made it sound very good. I wanted to try it. I have coin.”
“Sebeyou?” Oilcan echoed.
Thorne must have decided that Oilcan was in over his head. She drifted in to the conversation. “Sebeyou is what we call the warriors at the temple who have not yet earned their sword. He means Blue Sky.”