Kestrel had never had a tour before, and hadn’t known what to expect, but the next hour was not what he would have guessed a tour could be. He and Alicia walked side by side through the streets of the city, and never spoke a word to each other. Kestrel tried to ask questions about their surroundings twice, but received no answer from his guide, and so he passively walked beside her, looking about at the buildings and trees and people that were traveling through the city in the morning. He let his mind wander just as his body wandered, and his imagination worked to assign duties and missions to the people he saw. Some were easy, such as the woman carrying two large loaves of bread, or the small boy lugging a large pail of water away from a well.
But others were mysteries to him, such as the quartet of guards in splendid uniforms, marching in precise step along one narrow side street, no evidence of military or regal service needed in the area, or the elves carrying bundles of firewood towards a pile of timber on a street corner.
The day grew warmer as they progressed, and the sun rose higher in the sky above. Alicia stopped suddenly, and Kestrel stopped too, wondering what the reason was for the halt to their urban march. They were in a nondescript residential area, Alicia having swerved off a main boulevard for the first time.
“You go over there; I’ll be in here for a little while,” she gestured to a small courtyard as she directed him, then pointed at an adjacent building as she talked about herself.
“Is everything okay?” Kestrel asked.
Alicia didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she placed her hands behind her head, and within her hair, so that after a few moments of deft finger movements, the pile came off in her hand, revealing a daringly short haircut for a female elf, one that was little more than twice the length of Kestrel’s own. He stared at her in amazement, seeing her in a completely different way, her eyes suddenly appearing large and captivating, her ears prominently revealed, the delicate whorls enticing. She then pulled on one sleeve of her jacket, and tugged it off before she switched hands and juggled her hairpiece so that she could pull herself free from the other jacket sleeve as well.
She wore a sheer white blouse beneath the jacket, and her further transformation made Kestrel’s eyes bulge from his head in astonishment at the suddenly attractive profile she showed. “It’s too hot to walk through the city dressed like this,” she explained, her arms spread wide, each hand holding one of her removed items.
“This is my father’s building; I’m going to go in here and change into some cooler clothes, and then we can carry on,” she added, and as she did, Kestrel noticed the moisture on her blouse as it clung to her body, evidence of her warmth.
“I’ll wait there,” he agreed, dumbfounded, and ambled towards the courtyard as she turned her back to him and went into the building nearby. The neighborhood wasn’t seedy, but it wasn’t far from it, Kestrel judged, observing both the lack of maintenance of the buildings as well as the dress and the attitudes of the passers-by.
He sat on a stone bench and watched the leaves in the bushes tussle in the breeze, his eyes half closed, when he heard a sudden high-pitched scream, one that jerked him to his feet, and sent him running in panic towards the source, the building where Alicia was changing outfits.
He crossed the threshold of the doorway she had entered, and saw a dim, narrow passageway. He had no clue which direction to move towards, when he heard another scream, in a voice he thought was Alicia’s, coming from the upper floor of the building, somewhere in the back. He charged up the steps, and saw shadows in motion as he reached the upper hallway.
He ran down the hallway to the open door, where he saw the source of the shadows; two men were shoving and abusing Alicia, who was nearly undressed, pushing her back and forth forcefully between one another as though she were a plaything, a toy they could bat around the way a cat played with its prey at times.
Glancing around, Kestrel noticed a broom leaning against the wall next to the door he occupied. Without hesitation he grabbed the broom, and began to wield it as though it were a battle staff, rushing at and jabbing the handle at the two ruffians, knocking their heads, poking their stomachs, whacking their knees. The two were unprepared for the assault, one which Kestrel launched with ease, without even consciously considering the moves he was making. The stick flowed fluidly back and forth, even as the two assailants changed the direction of their action and came towards Kestrel, leaving Alicia slumped and dazed on the floor where they abandoned her.
The frontal assault on Kestrel never reached him. He furiously began to bludgeon the two men as they attempted to fight him, and their courage broke after only a few moments of focused attack. With arms covering their heads, they fled around Kestrel and out the door, the sounds of their stomping boots echoing down the hallway. Kestrel began to chase them, then heard Alicia softly moan as he departed the room. He stopped, turned, and re-entered the chambers where she lay on the floor. There was blood running from her nose, and she wore a pair of skivvies, but there was not much else covering her skin.
“Hello the house!” Kestrel shouted loudly as he dropped the broom stick and strode over to her location, but he heard no response, no indication of assistance nearby. Kneeling, he looked at her closely, but saw no other signs of outward damage to her body. He held her limp wrist and found her pulse, which was strong and steady, while he considered what to do for her. He didn’t know the locations of doctors or clinics anywhere in the city, and the infirmary at the base was an hour away, if he could carry her that far, and if he could find his way back.
He needed something to magically heal her, something like the healing spring he had stopped at on his initial trip to Center Trunk, the one where he had met Dewberry. Those waters could surely cure her injuries, he was sure.
Could Dewberry help him, he asked himself speculatively. He’d not seen the sprite since he’d seen her with Lucretia, but she had once upon a time offered to give him assistance. And this situation was beyond his own ability to handle.
He recollected the instruction she had given him when they had spoken in his room in the village inn. He had to call her name with his heart and his voice and his mind, all together, three times, in order to summon the sprite to come to his aid. He’d never thought he’d really ever try to receive her assistance, but then he’d never thought she’d ever come to him again, until she had shown up and stolen the needed arrows for him at the archery contest.
“Dewberry!” he called aloud, softly, as he thought of the sprite’s name and image, and longed for her assistance with all his heart. “Dewberry,” he repeated again with the same effort, and then seconds later, he uttered and wished and thought for a third time, and was rewarded with a slight popping noise and the sudden appearance of the beautiful blue enchanted being.
“Dewberry! You came!” he said with disbelief and delight, despite the circumstances.
“You called, as required by the ancient rules, and I responded, elf-rescuer,” the sprite answered, hovering aloft in the air, and looking down at the unconscious elf maiden. “And it appears I’m just in time to prevent you from despoiling a sleeping beauty. Is this a habit of yours? I thought better of you, but I remember that you had me unconscious and unclothed at one time too.” She spoke in an idle and speculative tone as she approached Alicia to look at her.
“Look at me!” Kestrel said sharply. “Do I look like I’m trying to take advantage of her?” he asked as the sprite turned and approached him. “I found two ruffians attacking her, and I chased them off, then called you for help,” he explained.
There was the sound of a sudden gasp from Alicia, and both the sprite and the elf turned to look at her, but there was no evidence of any change in her state.