The Seven Lands

"Grammy, we went to see the New York Ruins and I asked Daddy how come there was one building that didn't get ruined and he said ask you because you know about it."

"Yes, I know the story. You want to hear it?"

Chanten nodded eagerly, clambering up onto his grandmother's lap, Litia following close behind.

"Tell us, Gwammy Lulu," Litia piped, curling her grandma's silver hair in her little hand.

"All right, let's see. Well, once upon a time—"

"No, this is a real story! You can't start like that," Chanten told her.

"Oh, of course. How silly. Let me try again." She cleared her throat loudly and began again. "It had been three days since a reeking, smoking ruin of a city had grown in the ancient forest that Luzsia had called home for the last three hundred years. She had been flying under a silver moon when the wafting smell of smoke reached her nose and brought stinging tears to her eyes. She feared a summer forest fire, but as she flew toward it, a strange wall blocked out the moon and she pulled up sharply. It was a skyscraper, damaged and crumbling, but Luzsia knew nothing of skyscrapers yet.

"All around her amid the ancient trees, there were cars on fire, concrete streets turned to rubble, broken pipes spraying water, and buildings—so many buildings—all destroyed. Much of the forest had been devastated too by the sudden appearance of the city, and Luzsia found out three days later at a Council that it was the same all over the world.

"The Council met in the Faeries' ruling house deep in the Second Land. Six representatives gathered to decide how to meet the disaster that had come to their doorsteps."

"It is the same in the Sixth Land," Whitefire said, her snakelike eyes gleaming angrily. "The fires decimated part of our forests. Many of the animals died." Her long body curled around half of the long table, her twisted horn burning with a white light as she recalled the disaster.

"We are all very sorry about that," Luzsia responded, eyeing the horn. "But at least your kind was safe from the fire. We worked night and day to put ours out. It was a miracle no one was killed."

"Was anyone hurt?" Whitefire asked.

"Thankfully, no. But—"

"Burn it t'all down, that's the only thing ta do!" shouted Toph in her high-pitched brogue, hitting the table with a tiny fist. Her face was nearly as red as her hair. "Find the spell-breaking Human who did it, and see how they like it!" She produced a tiny fireball and pulled it back as if to throw.

"Please, Toph," Vasilias Helios VII said. Everyone quieted. The Gryphaur's face was calm, but the rustling of his golden wings betrayed deep concern. "I do not believe it is the Humans' doing. Their cities have been destroyed by this anomaly as well. We must have a common enemy."

"Íos is right," Luzsia said. "They were attacked before the map came down."

Toph looked like she was about to explode, but managed to hold her tongue. Erdun shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the ground, below which was the tunnel he had come through to join the Council. He gripped his staff nervously, the ruddy brown jewel at its tip catching the light.

"What else have you all seen? I do not know much. They have not touched our mountains," Íos said.

"Or our waters," said Ruith gloatingly, glancing at Toph.

"Congratulations to ye, ye overgrown seahorse!" yelled Toph, rising a foot in the air like an angry hummingbird. Her bright red hair and constant movement gave the impression of a single flame dancing around in the air. "I suppose that means ye don't want to help us, coward that ye Nokmeres are!"