Disclaimer: Pet Fly and Paramount own the copyright to The Sentinel
and its characters. This piece of fan fiction was written solely for
the love of the characters and to share freely with other fans. No
profit is being made from the posting of this story.

Acknowledgments: I want to say a big *thank you* to my wonderful
betas: Annie, Lyn, and Mary. Their talents always make my stories
better.

I would like to add a special thanks to a very close friend, Terri,
who has spent countless hours with me in IM chats swapping plot
bunnies and generally acting like a one-woman cheerleading squad. She
has been with me through the entire series over the course of several
years, and her contributions have been immeasurable. Terri, I thank
you more than you can ever know. This is *your* series, too. Love ya
LOTS, girlfriend!

Warnings / Rating: m/m, elves (no mpreg this time!) / R (FRM)

Summary: A terrible accident forces B'layr to return to the Ancients
for additional training and Jim to deal with the aftermath - a blind
son - on his own.

FEEDBACK appreciated at: nat1228@comcast.net


SQ9: HEALING TIES
by Natalie L


*One Year Later:*

"Mmmm..." B'layr awoke slowly, writhing sensuously as his mind
registered the hand caressing his languid cock. He rolled over to face
Jim and smiled. "You want me pregnant again, do you not?" His lips
brushed Jim's cheek before settling into a kiss against his mate's
mouth.

"You haven't let me make love to you for days," Jim pouted, his hands
straying over B'layr's body, touching lightly.

"I have come into my cycle," B'layr explained. "In case you have
forgotten, today is K'sali's first birthday, and T'lan is barely two
Turns of Seasons. I am not yet ready to carry another. Two elflings in
the home at one time is enough, do you not agree?"

Jim sighed, his hand still straying over B'layr's bare skin. "I miss
you, that's all. I miss being in you, being a part of you."

"There is no restriction on me making love to *you*," B'layr pointed
out, teasing Jim's lower lip with the tip of his finger. "Roll over,
and let me make you feel better."

Jim's face lit up with a pleased grin, and he prepared to turn when a
loud wail erupted from across the room followed shortly by a cry of
"Mama!"

B'layr pursed his lips and shook his head. "Bad timing." He threw back
the blankets and prepared to get up. "I am sorry, my heart. Another
time, perhaps." He made his way across the room to the crib where he
lifted K'sali and put her to his breast. Immediately, the baby
quieted, suckling her morning milk with gusto.

"Milk! Milk, Mama!" A tiny pair of hands reached up to paw at B'layr,
but found no purchase on the bare skin. As B'layr walked across the
room to the nest of a bean bag chair to nurse his youngest, T'lan
finally found purchase on his mother by grabbing hold of his penis.
"Milk!"

"Not from there, little one," B'layr said with a chuckle, disengaging
the small hand before settling into the soft chair. "Come, nurse next
to your sister." He held his arm open and T'lan crawled into his lap,
settling down to suckle on the free teat.

Jim got out of bed and pulled on his clothes, going over to the
kitchenette to fix himself some breakfast. "I give up. You're right.
Two under two years old is enough for now. Want anything for
breakfast?"

"No, thanks. I ate more than my share at dinner last night. I need to
save room for the birthday feast." B'layr stroked a hand through the
lush curls on T'lan's head. "I wonder if K'tiri and S'kur will be
coming?"

"Why not?" Jim asked, breaking eggs into the skillet. "She's K'sali's
sister, after all, and Chieftess. She has to come."

"But she has been feeling poorly of late," B'layr explained. "She is,
after all, far into her fourth quarter. She will give birth in just
over a month. From her girth and the way she carries, I am convinced
that she will have twins."

"More Sentries?" Jim stirred his eggs and added some strips of bacon
to the pan.

"Even I can not tell that," B'layr responded with a chuckle. "But
given your strong, dominant genes, it would not surprise me."

Jim brought his plate of food over to the dining table and sat down,
smiling at his mate. "Maybe if we get enough Sentries in this Tribe, I
can finally retire," he said. "I've been looking forward to a nice,
long vacation where we didn't have to do anything but hunt and fish."

T'lan crawled out of B'layr's lap to go beg at his father's. Jim
handed the two-year-old a strip of crisp bacon and watched with
amusement as the youngster toddled around the room, munching the
treat.

"I think we still have a few years left before we can 'retire',"
B'layr stated, smiling down at K'sali, who was still suckling noisily.
"And if you get me pregnant again, it could be even longer."

"Ever hear of birth control?" Jim replied languidly between mouthfuls
of scrambled eggs.

"There is no effective drug for elves," B'layr pointed out, "and I do
not like the feel of condoms."

"So, how long will this fertile cycle last?" asked Jim.

"Another fortnight, give or take a few days," B'layr replied, cradling
the infant who had fallen asleep after filling her belly.

"Two more weeks?" Jim gasped, clasping his hands over his heart. "Oh,
God... Will I last?"

"We have a party to prepare for," B'layr reminded him. "This is a big
day for your little one. After the celebration, I promise that I will
satisfy you. Can you wait until then?"

"I suppose," Jim replied sullenly, "if I must." He got up to take his
dishes to the sink. "Stevie is flying in this afternoon with the party
decorations and the cakes. I'll take L'anin and H'tim, and meet him at
the clearing."

"Good. We can get all the decorations up before nightfall." B'layr
placed K'sali back in her crib and went to the closet to select his
clothes for the day. "In the meantime, I am running low on some of my
healing herbs. I need to go gather more this morning."

"Are you taking T'lan with you?"

"He is still too young, and I will be going through dense forest where
there are no trails," B'layr replied. "The elfling will stay here with
you."

"Maybe L'anin -"

"L'anin is busy with A'mere. He does not need another toddler under
foot." Pulling on a pair of soft leather breeches, B'layr turned to
his reluctant mate. "It is time you got used to caring for the young
ones yourself. Just because you are the Senior Sentry does not release
you from your obligations as a parent."

"Ah, B'layr, you know me..." Jim hedged. "I love our kids and all
that, but I'm really not good at handling them. That's your job."

"I may be nurturing by nature," said B'layr, "but you must learn. Play
with your son, and keep him out of harm's way. That is all you need to
know for now." He slipped a cotton tunic over his head and sat down to
tie the laces on his sneakers. Tying his hair back with a supple
leather thong, he grabbed his gathering bag and headed for the door.
"I shall be back before the sun reaches its zenith."

"You'd better," Jim grumbled. "Or I'll come looking for you."

+++++

B'layr walked through the deep forest, picking his medicinal plants
and reflecting on his mate. Jim was a passionate lover and an
excellent provider. He loved his children as deeply as did B'layr, but
his time spent with them had been somewhat limited during their
formative years. B'layr was the parent who was always at home. B'layr
was the one who had given birth to all but one of their children and
had nursed them all. It was B'layr who was there every day and every
night, while Jim was frequently on patrol, guarding the Tribe, or out
with a hunting party. When they went on their trips, the children were
fostered out to be cared for by others until their return. It takes a
whole Tribe to raise a child, he mused, but every elfling needed both
his parents. Jim simply had not had reason to learn the day-to-day
childcare routine. Even after all these years.

He stopped to peel some bark from a willow tree to add to his pouch,
and then decided to sit down by the stream to rest. Scooping a handful
of water, he drank, refreshing and rejuvenating himself. B'layr sighed
and wondered how Jim was doing back home with two little ones
underfoot.

+++++

T'lan was following his father around the cabin, grabbing at Jim's
jeans for attention. "Papa! Papa!"

Jim swept the child up into his arms and laughed, tickling the
youngster's side and armpit. Giggling, T'lan squirmed and grabbed at
Jim's ears. "Oh no, you don't." Jim laughed, prying the little hands
free. "How about we play with the blocks?" he suggested, pulling a box
of colorful wooden blocks from beneath the bed. He set T'lan on the
floor and then sat down, cross-legged across from his son. Digging
blocks out of the box, he began to shape the foundation for a small
building. "Let's build a house." He stacked the blocks carefully,
smiling at the intent look on T'lan's face as the child attempted to
mimic his father. "That's very good," Jim said, encouraging T'lan to
continue. When the towering building finally collapsed, the two had a
good laugh. Jim started another structure, and then got up and left
T'lan playing quietly.

Walking over to the sink, Jim began to wash his morning dishes. T'lan
was one thing, but K'sali, the daughter he, himself, had given birth
to, was something else. Jim loved children, but tended to leave the
care of the infants to his more experienced mate. He watched the baby
sleep, smiling as she snuffled and stretched before rolling over.
B'layr had given him a special gift; one he loved with all his heart.
But he was relieved that N'elu had undone the inadvertent healing that
B'layr had accidentally inflicted on him in his frantic effort to save
Jim's life. Jim was no longer a Bearer.

Finishing the few dishes, he dried his hands and then stepped
outdoors. The mid-morning air was crisp, but with a promise of warmth
as the day wore on. Stretching out his senses, he could make out the
bent blades of grass that marked B'layr's path into the forest. His
mate's scent still lingered in the yard, but Jim could not actually
see or hear the elf. He wondered how far B'layr had ventured, and
whether he'd actually be home by noon, as promised.

The sound of a snapping twig brought Jim's head around, and he saw his
eldest son, L'anin, approaching.

"Good morning, Sire!" L'anin greeted Jim, waving a friendly greeting
as he approached. "I thought I would come by early."

"Good morning!" Jim wrapped his son in a hug, thumping his back in
welcome. "It looks like we might have a little wait on our hands. Your
mother went herb gathering."

"How long has he been gone?" L'anin asked, also noting with his sharp
eyes the direction B'layr had taken.

"Less than an hour," Jim replied. "He promised he'd be back by noon."

L'anin glanced up at the sky, gauging the position of the sun. "That
gives us a little time, then. When is Stevie supposed to arrive with
the things for the party?"

"He's due in early this afternoon. I figure that should give us enough
time to get to the meadow before he arrives. Is H'tim coming, too?"

"He is busy with some fresh hides at the moment, but he promised he'd
meet us in time to help," L'anin replied.

Jim hooked an arm around his son's shoulders and turned him toward the
cabin. "Have you had anything to eat yet? I've got some eggs and bacon
left over from breakfast..."

+++++

B'layr was nearing the sacred pool when he heard the mewling cry.
Dropping his gathering bag, he made his way to a small clearing and
observed a very young bear cub that appeared to be injured. Wise to
the ways of the forest, B'layr knew better than to walk into the
clearing right away. He looked around and listened for the presence of
the mother nearby. When several minutes passed and she didn't return,
he became concerned. Hunters were known to frequent the area, and
although this wasn't hunting season, it didn't stop the poachers from
taking a bear.

Cautiously, he approached the cub, holding out his hands for the
animal to sniff. Kneeling next to the bear, he stroked its coarse fur,
muttering quiet noises to calm it. He carefully examined the cub,
noting a cut in one of the front paws.

"Where is your mother, little one?" B'layr asked as he poured water
onto a soft piece of leather and began to clean the wound. Once the
dirt was gone, he laid a palm over the injury and closed his eyes. The
soft, golden aura that emanated from his hand was warm and soothing as
it knit the flesh back together.

Lost in the healing trance, B'layr didn't notice the heavy footsteps
approaching or the growl of a protective she-bear until a huge paw
impacted his shoulder, throwing him sideways, away from the cub.

Rolling over and grabbing his bleeding shoulder, B'layr looked up at
the biggest black bear he had ever seen....

+++++

It was an hour past noon. Jim had had to send other Tribe members with
H'tim to the meadow to meet the helicopter and bring back the party
supplies so that he could stay with the children. He wandered to the
edge of their garden to peer into the dense foliage of the forest,
watching and listening for B'layr's return. After a few minutes, he
turned back to join L'anin at the cabin.

"Is Mother on his way back yet?" L'anin asked, also concerned that
B'layr hadn't arrived home when he said that he would.

Jim shook his head. "I can't see or hear any trace of him," he
admitted. "I'm getting worried."

L'anin lifted a crying K'sali from her crib and went to the
refrigerator to fetch some stored breast milk to feed her. As he was
setting the bottle in a bath of hot water to warm, he looked around
the cabin. "That is not all you have to worry about. Where is T'lan?"

"He's right over... there..." Jim pointed to the corner with the
blocks where he had left his son playing quietly. "Oh, God... I've
been too busy thinking of other things and worrying about B'layr, and
now T'lan's disappeared too."

"Do not panic," L'anin reassured his father. "Little ones his age have
a great curiosity and are prone to wandering off. I am sure we will
find him somewhere nearby."

Jim reached for his daughter, lifting her from L'anin's arms. "I'll
start looking for T'lan, but I'd like for you to see if you can find
B'layr. He's never late, and I'm worried about him, too."

"Mother was raised in these woods," said L'anin. "He knows all there
is to know about the area. He probably just got distracted by his
gathering. Let me help you find T'lan."

"No!" Jim's voice rang out more sharply than he had intended.
"Something doesn't feel right," he continued more softly. "Call it a
sixth sense or something to do with the soul bond, but B'layr is in
trouble; I feel it."

L'anin nodded, acknowledging the mysteries of the bond. "I will go
seek out Mother and bring him back. You search for T'lan."

Jim headed back out into the yard, watching L'anin lope off in the
direction that B'layr had gone earlier in the day. Scanning the
cultivated area around the cabin, he spotted a narrow trail of freshly
bent blades of grass. "T'lan!" he called, following the trail. "T'lan,
come to papa!"

A soft giggle drifted to Jim's ears from off to his left. Following
the sound, he found his son hiding in a thicket.

"Bunny!" T'lan said, indicating the brown cottontail rabbit that was
hiding with him.

"Yes, it is," Jim said with a relieved smile. "But we have to go home
now." He held out a hand for the toddler.

"Bunny!" T'lan insisted, refusing to budge from the dense shrubbery.

"We can't take it home," Jim said reasonably. "It wouldn't be happy
being penned up. Let's leave it out here, and it can come and visit us
when it wants to."

"Want bunny!" T'lan continued to stubbornly refuse to come out.

Jim knelt on the soft ground, setting K'sali down in the grass and
reaching through the branches for his son. "It's time to come out," he
said firmly.

T'lan shook his head. "No. Play with bunny!"

By this time, the object of the discussion had hopped off, disturbed
by the tone of Jim's voice. "The bunny's gone home," he pointed out.
"It's time for you to come home, too."

Realizing that his playmate had gone, T'lan finally crawled out from
his hiding place, his hands and face streaked with dirt. Jim scooped
up K'sali and took T'lan's hand, leading his prodigal son back to the
cabin.

+++++

L'anin could hear the bear before he spotted it. Unarmed, he was
tempted to give the animal a wide berth, but the smell of blood drew
him near. Parting the undergrowth, he peered into the small clearing.
B'layr's gathering bag lay near L'anin's feet. The young Sentry
glanced up, taking in the tableau.

A young cub hid in the bushes near the mother bear, who was hovering
over her prey. The scent of blood was strong in the air and a soft
moan could be heard.

"Mother?" L'anin called softly.

"Stay away," B'layr whispered, knowing L'anin would hear. "Get help."

"I cannot leave you!" L'anin said, slowly approaching while keeping a
wary eye on the she-bear that still loomed over B'layr. "What
happened?"

"The cub was injured, and the mother nowhere to be seen," B'layr
explained. "I healed the cub's injury, but the mother came back."

"You are bleeding!"

"It is not serious. Just a flesh wound to my shoulder," B'layr
explained. "Stay back, so that you do not get hurt as well."

"I must get you away!" L'anin hissed, inching forward.

The bear turned at the movement, and moving swiftly, swiped at the
approaching elf, ripping through the flesh of face and shoulder,
baring the bone on L'anin's arm. The huge animal bent to take a bite
of the injured elf, when a pinecone hit its flank like a small
missile.

B'layr stood, slingshot in hand, prepared to attack again to save his
son. He didn't want to hurt the mother bear, but toyed with the
gathering knife at his belt, willing to do what needed to be done to
protect L'anin.

A mewling noise from the bushes caught the attention of elf and bear
alike. The cub that B'layr had healed ambled from the protection of
the shrubs looking to its mother for food. The huge black bear took
one more cursory swipe at L'anin's body, and then shuffled off toward
her cub, taking it away from the clearing and back into the forest.

B'layr crawled over to where L'anin lay, blood pooling around his head
and upper body. Quickly tearing away the clothing, the Healer used the
soft cloth to wipe away the blood so that he could see the injuries
better. His son's face was torn by deep gouges; blood streaming from
L'anin's eyes and mouth. The left shoulder was filleted to the bone,
the muscles and tendons ripped and ruined. From the location of the
wounds, a tourniquet was out of the question. Fearing for his son's
life, B'layr bent over L'anin, closing his eyes and reaching out his
hands, willing the Healing magic.

The soft aura that emanated from B'layr's hands bathed L'anin in an
ethereal glow. The blood slowly began to coagulate and the bleeding
stopped. B'layr collapsed over his son, exhausted by the healing
energy and his own injury. After a few minutes, he pulled himself up
to examine the damage more closely. L'anin's eyes were badly mauled,
and B'layr feared his son would be blind. The gashes across his face
and shoulder had only begun to knit back together. There would be much
more healing required if L'anin was ever to regain the use of his eyes
and arm.

The younger elf was unconscious; weakened by the loss of blood and
shock. With his own shoulder injured, B'layr knew he would be unable
to carry L'anin back to the cabin. He prayed that Jim would come soon
to find them.

+++++

The elves had begun to gather in the clearing to celebrate K'sali's
birthday. A bonfire was being built and trestles set up to hold the
food. H'tim had taken it on himself to gather several of his kinsmen
to meet the helicopter and bring back the cake and party decorations.

In the middle of it all, K'tiri stood with her hand protectively over
her distended abdomen, directing the workers and keeping things
coordinated. Her face lit up with a welcoming grin as she spotted her
father and two younger siblings approach. She held out her arms to
take K'sali from Jim.

"So here's our little birthday girl!" K'tiri crooned, tickling the
youngster under her chin. K'sali giggled and reached out to tug on a
lock of curling, auburn hair. "Where are Mother and L'anin?" K'tiri
asked, looking around for her missing kin.

Jim frowned, his brow creased with worry. "B'layr went out to gather
herbs this morning. When he wasn't back by noon, I sent L'anin out to
look for him. Neither has come back."

"That is worrisome," K'tiri commented. "Mother is always very
punctual, as is L'anin. You have not gone in search of them?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you about," said Jim, pushing T'lan
forward. "Could you watch the children while I go out to search?"

"Of course!" K'tiri reached down to take T'lan's small hand.
"Godspeed. Find them and bring them home quickly."

"I will." With a nod, Jim turned back to the cabin where he grabbed
his crossbow and arrows before heading out in the direction B'layr had
taken.

It wasn't hard to follow the path. Even though the elves moved quietly
and with little disturbance to their surroundings, there were still
many signs a good Sentry could follow. Besides, B'layr hadn't made any
effort to cover the direction he had taken. Extending his senses of
sight, hearing, and smell, Jim made his way through the forest,
tracking his mate. He had no trouble finding the spot by the stream
where B'layr had rested. There was also evidence that L'anin had found
this place as well. Continuing on, he followed the trail that would
lead to the sacred pool, taking a hard turn to the left after he had
traveled for about twenty minutes.

The signs and scents were getting stronger. Almost simultaneously, Jim
spotted the discarded gathering bag and heard a soft moan of distress.
Bounding into the small clearing, he found B'layr bent over the bloody
body of their son.

"B'layr!"

The elf looked up, his face drawn and haggard. "You have come. Thank
God."

Jim knelt next to his mate, noting the injured shoulder as he took in
the much more serious injuries of his son. "What happened here? Are
you all right? Of course you're not," he quickly answered his own
question. "What the hell happened?"

"If you will give me a moment..." B'layr said softly, pain evident in
his voice.

"I'm sorry. God, B'layr, tell me what happened." Jim's hands hovered
over B'layr's shoulder, unsure whether his touch would be welcome.

B'layr sat back on his haunches and took a deep breath. "I was
attacked by a bear while gathering my herbs," he began.

"How could that happen?" Jim interrupted. "You know this forest and
its inhabitants better than anyone."

"There was an injured cub," B'layr explained. "I waited to see if his
mother would come, but when she did not, I approached and healed the
cut in its paw. While I was concentrating on my healing, the mother
returned and did this -" He clasped his bloody shoulder. "She had me
cornered when L'anin came. I told him to stay away, but he would not.
He came between me and the she-bear, and was nearly killed."

"How did you get him away from the bear?" Jim asked softly, eyeing the
terrible injuries.

"Her cub called to its mother," B'layr explained, "I think it was
hungry. Fortunately, the cub was more important, and she left us. I
have tried to heal him, Jim. But I am so tired... I could not get him
home, but I could not leave him."

Jim gathered B'layr into his arms and held his mate while B'layr
cried, releasing the fear and worry that had been held inside while he
was alone with L'anin. "We'll get him home. Everything will be fine,"
Jim assured his soulmate. "I found your gathering bag," he added. "Do
you think you can carry it?" B'layr nodded, and Jim handed him the
leather sack.

"You wait here," Jim instructed, "while I go gather some branches to
make a travois."

He hurried off, gathering the materials he would need; hastily lashing
together a makeshift frame to carry L'anin. When he was finished, he
lifted his son onto the conveyance and picked up the poles. "Can you
walk?" he asked, looking skeptically at B'layr.

"I will be fine," the elf replied, pushing himself to his feet. He
swayed slightly, feeling lightheaded, until he gained his balance and
stepped up alongside Jim.

Jim shook his head. "You don't look fine," he replied. "You tell me if
you get too tired, or if you're dizzy. You hear me?"

B'layr nodded. "I promise. Let us go now; L'anin needs care."

"He's not the only one," Jim grumbled as he began the long walk back
toward the cabin.

+++++

K'tiri turned to her twin brother, T'erin. "It will be dark soon," she
said. "And our parents are not yet back. I fear for them, Brother.
Will you take a companion and go to bring them back?"

T'erin nodded. "I, too, am worried, Sister. Do not fear, I shall find
them and bring them home."

"Let me help." S'kim approached the siblings. In the year since
M'arik's betrayal, S'kim had worked hard to regain the acceptance of
the Tribe, but he was still regarded with some distrust.

The young Sentry gave S'kim an appraising look, and then nodded his
head. "You are welcome. Come with me." The two elves headed out in the
direction of Jim and B'layr's cabin to begin the search.

+++++

B'layr stumbled and Jim lowered the travois to go kneel at his
soulmate's side. "You're exhausted."

"I can make it home," B'layr insisted, struggling to stand once more.

"No, you can't." Jim gently pushed on B'layr's good shoulder to make
him sit. "You need to rest a bit first."

"L'anin cannot afford for us to delay," B'layr insisted, glancing over
at their son.

"L'anin can't afford to have you collapse from your own injuries," Jim
said. "He's going to need your healing, and you can't do that if
you're lying beside him, passed out."

B'layr sighed and settled in the grass. "Perhaps you should go ahead.
Take L'anin home and get him to bed. Clean his injuries so that they
do not become infected. I will wait for you to come and get me, or you
could send someone after me."

"But you're injured too," Jim pointed out. "I can't just leave you
here."

"You must," B'layr insisted. "L'anin's wounds are far more serious
than mine. He has to be cared for... quickly."

"And who's going to do that, if not you?" Jim countered. "You're the
Healer, and after you, L'anin. No one else knows the healing arts as
well as the two of you."

"Then listen to the Healer of the Tribes," B'layr said, his voice
stern. "Take L'anin back to the cabin and send someone for me. Our son
is weak from loss of blood, his wounds deep and festering as we argue.
He cannot bear the wait any longer."

Taking a look at the mangled body on the travois, Jim had to agree.
Their son was in dire need of care, including the cleaning of his
wounds and a warm place to rest. "All right," he said reluctantly.
"But you stay put right here. I'll be back to escort you home. Don't
try to make it on your own."

"I agree to your terms, my heart. Now, get our son home. Quickly."
B'layr watched as Jim picked up the poles of the travois and began the
walk back to their cabin.

+++++

"Sire!" T'erin spotted Jim coming through the trees. He and S'kim had
just passed the trail near the streambed and were heading deeper into
the forest.

"Oh Great Spirits!" S'kim exclaimed, drawing up alongside Jim and the
travois. "What has happened to L'anin?"

"He was attacked by a bear," Jim answered, his voice clipped. "I have
to get him home."

"Where is Mother?" T'erin added, looking farther up the trail for any
sign of B'layr.

"He is injured, too," said Jim. "I must get L'anin back to the cabin
so that I can return for B'layr."

"How badly is he injured?" T'erin's face had blanched at the news. He
had no wish to lose both his brother and his mother in one day.

"Not severely," Jim answered. "It's just a shoulder wound, but it's
bad enough. Why don't you two take L'anin back? Warm some water and
use clean linens to cleanse his wounds. I'll go back for B'layr and
bring him home."

S'kim nodded. "We will do that." He circled around to the rear of the
travois. T'erin lifted the front by the double poles used to pull the
frame while S'kim raised the rear. Carrying the travois like a
stretcher, the two elves took off at a trot along the trail leading
back to the cabin.

Jim didn't bother to watch them leave. He turned back and hurried up
the trail to where he'd left his mate waiting. B'layr's eyes snapped
open in surprise when Jim reached down touch his good shoulder.

"What are you doing back so soon? Is L'anin all right?" B'layr's eyes
were bright with worry.

"T'erin and S'kim had come looking for us," Jim explained. "I sent
L'anin with them, along with instructions to begin cleaning his
wounds. Our son will be fine. Now, I have to get you back as well." He
helped lift B'layr to standing, but the elf tottered and leaned
heavily against Jim. "This isn't going to work," Jim said, shaking his
head. Stooping, he slipped an arm beneath B'layr's knees and lifted
his soulmate into his arms.

"You do not have to carry me," B'layr protested weakly.

His mouth set in a grim line, Jim looked at the pale face of his mate.
"I think I do," he said simply, starting back down the path.

Realizing his own weakness, B'layr flung his good arm around Jim's
neck and buried his face against the broad chest before closing his
eyes and losing his hold on consciousness.

+++++

"Ohhhhh..." B'layr groaned, slowly opening his eyes in the dim light
of the cabin.

"You're awake." Jim walked over from L'anin's bed to the one he shared
with B'layr. "You've been unconscious for a couple of hours," he
added, answering the unasked question.

"How is L'anin?"

Jim glanced briefly over his shoulder, then turned his attention back
to B'layr. "K'tiri and T'erin are caring for him. S'kim is watching
the elflings," he explained. "L'anin is holding his own, but he hasn't
regained consciousness."

B'layr struggled to sit up, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. "I
should check on him. I fear that if our son lives, he will be blind."

Jim pressed a gentle hand against B'layr's chest, urging him to lie
back down. "His wounds have been cleaned and bandaged," he said. "You
need rest, too."

"He needs care," B'layr insisted. "Please have K'tiri come talk to
me."

"So long as you lie down and rest," said Jim, pulling the blankets up
to cover his mate. Turning to his daughter, he signaled her to come.

"What is it, Sire?" K'tiri looked tired. Her pregnancy was nearing
full term and she'd spent the day first caring for the children and
now doctoring her brother and mother. Wiping her brow, she crossed the
room to stand beside B'layr's bed.

Jim nodded toward B'layr. "Your mother wants a word with you."

K'tiri bent to look at B'layr and to stroke the long strands of hair
from his face. "You wish to speak with me? You should be resting."

B'layr let out a snort of laughter. "Your Sire says the same."
Reaching for her hand, he pressed it between both of his. "I hate to
ask more of you..."

"Just ask, Mother," K'tiri said softly.

"There is some fresh comfrey in my gathering pouch," B'layr said,
waving toward the table where the bag of herbs sat, forgotten. "A
poultice of the leaves and roots, applied to the shoulder wound will
help it to close more quickly, as well as minimize the chance of
infection and scarring."

"What about his facial wounds?" K'tiri enquired.

B'layr shook his head. "Not a poultice," he said. "Steep some leaves
in boiling water and soak a clean cloth in the decoction to make a
compress. It should have a similar effect, but be safer for his eyes."

"And you?"

"My wound is superficial," B'layr said, waving off the concern.

"I shall have T'erin prepare a poultice for your shoulder while I tend
to L'anin," K'tiri said, leaving no room for argument. Turning her
back on her parents, she headed for the table to search through the
freshly gathered herbs for the comfrey plants.

"You have to give her credit," Jim said with a smile. "She knows how
to lead and how to delegate. And she certainly doesn't take any of
your crap."

"She is a dedicated Chieftess and Healer," B'layr agreed.

"My sister works too hard," T'erin said, bringing over the poultice.
He unwrapped the bandage from B'layr's shoulder and applied the leaves
directly to the cleaned wound, binding them in place with fresh gauze.
"She is due to give birth in only a few short weeks. As she is
carrying twins, she should be resting herself."

"Yes," B'layr sighed. "The extra work she is putting in could cause
her to give birth early. Perhaps I should speak to her."

"She will not hear you," T'erin said with a sigh. "She puts her Tribe
before her own health. Even S'kur has not been able to get her to slow
down."

"So, you speak about me behind my back?" K'tiri stood with her arms
crossed at the foot of B'layr's bed.

B'layr shrugged, then grimaced when the action was felt in his injured
shoulder. "One cannot have a private conversation when so many Sentry
ears are present."

"L'anin is resting. I have applied the poultice to his shoulder and am
preparing the decoction now," K'tiri announced. "And I *am* tired.
T'erin, if you would be so kind as to prepare the compress, I will go
lie down for a bit."

"Of course, Sister; you must rest." T'erin took K'tiri's elbow and
steered her away toward the door to the cabin. "I will ask S'kim to
escort you."

"I would be most happy to oblige," S'kim said, stepping up to take
T'erin's place at K'tiri's side. "You have done more than your share
today, Chieftess."

"Thank you, S'kim, but I have done no more than is expected of me."
K'tiri turned for one last glance at her family before allowing
herself to be led from the cabin.

"And now there is little left to do but wait," B'layr said with a
sigh. "Would you lie beside me? It would help me rest," B'layr said,
focusing his attention on Jim.

Jim walked around to his side of the bed and shed his clothes down to
his underwear before lifting the covers and climbing in next to his
soulmate. He rolled onto his side and wrapped a protective arm across
B'layr's chest. "Sleep. Tomorrow you may be strong enough to apply
your healing powers."

"I pray you are right," B'layr said with a sigh, closing his eyes. "I
pray you are right."

+++++

The following day, Jim was awakened by the scent of herbal medicines.
He opened his eyes to find B'layr in the kitchen, preparing tea.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, climbing out of bed and
walking over to where L'anin lay resting.

"I could not sleep," B'layr said, pouring the tea into two cups. "I
thought I would make some willow bark tea. Its effects on the body are
much like that of aspirin," he explained. "It will reduce the pain and
help fight inflammation." He handed one of the cups to Jim. "Here. See
if you can get L'anin to drink." B'layr sipped at his own cup as he
took up a position on the opposite side of L'anin's bed from Jim.

Jim slipped an arm beneath L'anin's shoulders and helped to lift him
enough to drink. "How are you feeling this morning, L'anin?" he asked
as he positioned the cup at his son's lips. The elf sipped the hot
tea, feeling for the cup with his hand and taking it from Jim.

"I cannot lift my left arm," he complained. "And mother says my eyes
were injured."

"You were badly mauled," B'layr explained. "When you came to my
rescue, the she-bear attacked. She tore your shoulder open to the
bone. I did what I could to save your life, but there is much more
healing needed before you will be able to use that arm again."

L'anin put the empty tea cup down on the blanket and lifted a hand to
the bandages over his eyes. "And how long must these stay on?"

B'layr hesitated. "It may be a while," he hedged. "I do not want to
risk any infection to your eyes."

"And what am I to do until then?" L'anin asked, an edge of fear in his
voice.

"Until then, you will use your other senses to help you get around.
Any member of the Tribe would also willingly be your eyes," said
B'layr.

"I do not want to be a burden!" L'anin exclaimed, his sudden movement
as he gestured sending the wooden tea cup to the floor. "I am a Sentry
of the Ten Tribes, and I need no one's help." With a moan, he lay back
down, clasping his shoulder.

"Right now, you do," B'layr said softly as he began to unwind the
tight bandages. "I am going to work on your shoulder now. As I am also
injured and the damage done to your arm is severe, the healing will
have to take place over many days." He lifted the dried poultice from
the wound and dropped it to the floor, then he began to unwind the
bandages covering his son's eyes.

When the gauze was removed, L'anin lifted a hand to touch his face. At
B'layr's quick glance, Jim reached out to stop his son, gently
pressing the questing hand back to the blankets.

"I need you to lie still," said B'layr, folding the blankets down to
bare L'anin's torso. "Just relax, and feel the healing warmth." He
stretched his hands over the wounds - one to L'anin's shoulder, the
other to his face - and closed his eyes, concentrating on producing
the Healing energy. A soft, golden glow emanated from the palms of his
hands, and L'anin murmured appreciatively at the comfortable warmth
that bathed him.

Jim watched B'layr with concern, worried that his injured soulmate was
trying too much, too soon. His misgivings were confirmed when B'layr
began to sag, his knees slowly buckling beneath him. Jim sprinted
around the bed, catching B'layr before he could hit the floor.

"Come on, my soul. You need to go back to bed," he said, picking
B'layr up and carrying him across the room. "I know you're worried
about L'anin, no more so than I am, but you're weak and the Healing
takes too much out of you."

"Bind his wounds," B'layr whispered before slipping into a light
sleep.

Jim walked back over to where L'anin lay.

"Is Mother going to be all right?"

"He's sleeping," Jim replied quietly. "Let me check your injuries
before I put the bandages back on." Dialing up his sense of sight and
touch, the Senior Sentry examined the wounds, looking for signs of
inflammation that would indicate an infection had begun. L'anin's
shoulder was ravaged, but signs of the Healing had already made
themselves known. Bone and sinew could no longer be seen, and while
the gash hadn't closed completely, there were signs of renewed tissue
growth.

L'anin's face hadn't fared as well. Jim grimaced as he looked at the
devastation. Gouges from the bear's claws marked the handsome face
from forehead to chin in three diagonal lines transecting his face and
cutting over his eyes. B'layr had been able to stop the profuse
bleeding and begin the healing process, but Jim feared their son would
never regain his sight. He gently placed a gauze pad over each eyelid,
saturated with oil of comfrey, and bound them in place with fresh
bandages. He then applied the prepared poultice to L'anin's shoulder
and wrapped it.

Bending down, he picked up the spilled cup, the used poultice, and the
soiled bandages, depositing the cup in the sink and the rest in the
garbage. After washing his hands, he filled a fresh cup and walked
back over to L'anin's bed. "B'layr said you should drink this," he
said, handing the cup to his son. "It's supposed to be a light
sedative."

L'anin sipped the cool drink and then nodded. "It tastes like a
decoction of goldenseal. It should help me rest." He paused, then
lifted his head toward his father. "Perhaps it would be well if you
had some, too," he suggested. "It will not necessarily make you
sleepy, but it should help to relieve some of the tension you feel."

"I'm not tense," Jim argued. "I'm just worried about you."

"And about Mother," the elf noted astutely. "Drink. It is good for
you." He finished his own cup and held it out for Jim to take.

"You're as bad as B'layr," he groused, refilling the cup and sipping
the bitter liquid.

"That is because I have been training to be a Healer for many years,"
L'anin explained. "Someday, when Mother decides to retire, I shall
take over for him. I only pray that I have also inherited the Healing
power."

"You'll make a fine Healer, whether or not you possess the power," Jim
assured him. "But for now, enough of talk. You need to sleep."

"And you need to relax. Go outside and take a walk. We will sleep; I
promise you." With that, L'anin settled back and pulled up the
blankets with his good hand, falling silent.

Jim scanned the room, looking over his son and soulmate. Both were
sleeping, or appeared to be, at least, and so he decided to take
L'anin's suggestion and get outside. He walked toward the center of
the settlement and found T'erin playing ball toss with T'lan, while
K'sali giggled in his arms.

"Are they behaving for you?" he asked, squatting down next to his son
and daughter.

"Little angels," T'erin replied with a smile. "How are L'anin and
Mother?"

"B'layr is doing better. He conducted a Healing session with L'anin
this morning. The effort tired him, and he's sleeping now," Jim
explained. "L'anin... well... there's a lot more healing that needs to
be done."

"K'tiri says she fears he will never see again," T'erin said softly.
"Is it true?"

"The injury to his eyes was severe," Jim concurred. "B'layr also has
his doubts, but refuses to believe there's nothing he can do."

"Mother will keep on trying," T'erin said. "Even if it is hopeless. I
pray he can accept the reality when the time comes."

"You're so certain that L'anin will never see again?" Jim asked.

T'erin shrugged. "I have seen lesser wounds leave an elf blind."

"If that's to be his fate, then I'm sure that L'anin will adapt," said
Jim. "But B'layr -"

"It is too soon to say for certain," said T'erin. "Do not let
tomorrow's worries bother you today."

"Could you continue to foster T'lan and K'sali for a few more days?"
Jim asked, rising to his feet.

"Of course," T'erin replied, pleased to be of assistance. "Anything I
can do to ease your burden."

"I'm going to take a walk in the forest; try to clear my mind," said
Jim. "If anyone asks for me, I'll be back within an hour."

+++++

When Jim returned to the cabin later that afternoon, he found B'layr
sitting in a chair next to L'anin's bed.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, strolling over to stand behind
B'layr and gaze down on their eldest son.

"My shoulder is feeling better," B'layr replied. "It is only sore to
the touch and a little stiff. I wanted to see if L'anin needed
anything."

Jim noted that the shoulder wound was uncovered and appeared to have
healed some. "Have you been using the Healing magic without me? You
know you should have someone watch over you when you do that."

"It was just a little," said B'layr. "I do not like seeing our son
like this. He does not want to get out of bed or try anything other
than eating and drinking. Even those, he does not do enough. I am
concerned."

"It's natural to become depressed after an accident leaves you blind,"
Jim commented. "Even if he regains his sight eventually, he still has
to cope with a disability for now."

"It is not healthy," B'layr said firmly. "I must try harder to heal
his eyes."

"How long have you been up?" Jim asked. "Have you had anything to eat
yet?"

"I've only been up a couple of hours," B'layr answered. "I had some
tea, but have not had time to prepare a meal."

"It's been over a day since you had anything substantial to eat," said
Jim. "I'll fix an early dinner. Once you've regained some of your
strength, we'll see about more healing for L'anin." He left B'layr
sitting at their son's side and went over to the kitchen to prepare
the meal. The quickest and easiest all around was a venison stew that
he knew was a favorite of both B'layr and L'anin. Perhaps he could
coax them both to eat.

He placed the pre-cooked venison into the large cooking pot and
proceeded to fill it with potatoes and other vegetables harvested from
B'layr's garden, including two of the precious "red fruits" - tomatoes
grown in their own small greenhouse. Jim grinned as he diced the
tomatoes, remembering B'layr's initial delight when he had first
discovered them over fifty years ago. The red fruits had become a
favorite of his soulmate. B'layr ate one every day - more, when Jim
let him get away with it.

The pot was nearly full when Jim added the broth and set it over the
fire to cook. Once B'layr had a good meal in his belly, then perhaps
he would be strong enough to continue with the Healing.

+++++

B'layr rose wearily from L'anin's side. Another round of the Healing
magic had nearly restored his son's shoulder and face, but the
aqua-green eyes still stared blindly at him. With a sigh, he turned to
Jim. "Stay with him." He then turned his back and walked out the door.

"Where are you going?" Jim called after his soulmate. When B'layr
didn't answer, Jim rose to follow, but was stayed by a hand gripping
his forearm.

"Mother needs to be alone to commune with the spirits," L'anin said
softly. "It pains him that he has not yet been able to give me back my
sight."

"It's only a matter of time," said Jim. "He'll be able to heal you."

"Perhaps." L'anin's voice was quiet with sorrow. "But perhaps not."

+++++

B'layr walked across their garden to the large old maple tree under
which their stillborn son and twin daughters were buried. He sank to
his knees in the soft grass next to the granite headstone and closed
his eyes.

"Why?" The question was soft and full of pain. "Why can I not heal my
son?" B'layr lifted his face to the sky, his eyes still closed and
streaming tears. "I have already lost three, I cannot lose another."

//He is not lost.//

B'layr opened his eyes to a forest of blue and gazed upon a handsome
young elf and twin females.

//He is not lost to you, Bearer,// the young elf repeated. //Seek the
Ancients.//

"I have visited them," B'layr replied. "They healed me and gave me the
Healing magic. But I cannot control it well enough to give my son back
his sight."

The female elves spoke in unison. //Seek the Ancients.//

The young woman on the left then spoke alone. //The Ancients can teach
you the skills.//

//The Ancients can give you the knowledge you desire,// the second
female chimed.

//All will be well,// the male spoke again. //Trust the Ancients.
Trust us... Mother.//

B'layr's eyes flew open and he was once again bathed in the pastel
greens and gold of the sun shining through the maple leaves. He
reached out to place a hand on the cold, hard stone. "I trust you," he
whispered.

+++++

Jim looked up as B'layr stumbled back into the cabin. Jumping to his
feet, he raced to his mate's side to help support him. "What the hell
happened to you?" he asked, his fear for B'layr manifesting as anger.

"I must go visit the Ancients," said B'layr, sinking into the nearest
chair.

"Not like this you're not!"

"What's happening?" L'anin asked, tentatively reaching out to find a
bedpost and stand. "What is wrong? Mother?" He took a few shuffling
steps in the direction of the voices.

"Nothing is wrong, my son," B'layr said wearily. "I-I just had an
unscheduled spirit walk. Our children - the ones I lost - spoke to
me." The elf still trembled at the memory, both sweet and fearsome.
"They told me to seek out the wisdom of the Ancients for the skills I
need."

"Oh, no!" Jim protested, shaking his head. "No. You're not going to
visit the Ancients! That's halfway around the world, and I'm not about
to be left here alone with two babies and a blind son!"

L'anin stopped, frozen in place near the foot of his bed.

"If I do not go, L'anin will not be healed," B'layr said stubbornly.
"I cannot live with myself knowing that I did not do everything in my
power to give him back his sight!"

"Mother?"

B'layr looked up, suddenly abashed at the words that had passed so
openly between himself and Jim. "Oh, L'anin, my son... Do not dismay.
This is not over."

L'anin's hand went up to brush across his sightless eyes. "Maybe it
is," he said softly. "Maybe I need to learn how to deal with this
disability."

"No!" B'layr snapped, suddenly angry with his son for giving up. "You
*will* see again!"

"B'layr, calm down," Jim said, gripping his soulmate's shoulders
tightly. "This is a tragedy, but it was an *accident*. It was not your
fault!"

"If I had not gone out picking herbs..." B'layr began.

Jim replied with equal stubbornness, "Herbs that you needed to
replenish your supplies; herbs necessary for the health and wellbeing
of the Tribes."

"If I had not tried to heal that cub..."

"That may have been a misjudgment on your part," Jim confessed, "but
the Healer in you compelled you. You have too big a heart to leave any
of God's creatures in pain."

"I do not blame you, Mother," L'anin added. "You have worked
tirelessly to heal me and now I am whole."

"Except that you can't see!" B'layr spat, his anger at himself turning
outward. "It *is* my fault, and my responsibility."

L'anin felt his way across the short expanse of floor to where his
parents sat at the table. He reached out and felt for B'layr's
shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "I am a Sentry of the Ten Tribes," he
said softly. "I have lost one sense, but I still have four others.
There is no reason that I cannot learn to use them."

"There is no reason that you *should* have to learn to use them!" said
B'layr, resting a hand on top of the one on his shoulder. "You deserve
to see again."

"If that were possible, you would have already done it," L'anin said,
a note of resigned acceptance in his voice. "It is better that I begin
to learn how to cope than to hold out false hope."

Jim brushed a hand over B'layr's forehead, dusting wisps of auburn
curls from his mate's face. "You look exhausted. You're still
recovering from your own wounds, and now you've had a spirit walk -
alone. I think you ought to go lie down and rest."

"I will not be able to sleep," B'layr protested lightly, allowing Jim
to help him up and walk him over to their bed.

Jim pulled back the covers and stripped B'layr of his clothes before
tucking him in and kissing his forehead. "Doesn't matter. Just close
your eyes and rest." He waited and watched while B'layr complied,
smiling when his monitoring told him that B'layr had fallen asleep
despite his protests.

Walking over to where L'anin stood, he placed his hands on his son's
shoulders and steered him out into the warm afternoon sunshine.

"How about we get started?" Jim asked, grinning at his son.

L'anin focused on the direction of his father's voice, turning to face
him. "Do you have a plan?"

Jim nodded, and then realized his son couldn't see the head gesture.
"Yeah, I do. I'm not sure if this will work, but I've been thinking
about it for a while now."

"What is that?"

"You're familiar with how bats can maneuver at night and catch prey
despite bad eyesight?"

"Yes. They use a form of echo location," L'anin replied. "Their ears
are very sensitive and can distinguish when the sounds they emit
bounce off objects in their path. They are extremely accurate. I've
watched them fly out from the caves at night. Each knows where the
others are and what is food and what is not."

"I thought that maybe we could use that idea," Jim suggested. "Dial up
your hearing." While he was making the suggestion, he turned L'anin to
face the cabin and clapped his hands. "Did you hear that? Listen
carefully to how the sound echoes off the building." He clapped again,
smiling when L'anin's head tilted slightly in concentration. "Now,
hear the difference when the sound bounces off the maple." He turned
his son to face the tree across the garden from where they stood and
clapped again.

"The sound takes slightly longer to come back," L'anin announced. "And
it sounds different."

"The tree is about three times farther away than the cabin," Jim said,
grinning. "Why don't you try it?"

"I would feel silly clapping," L'anin said. "Perhaps I could try a
whistle?"

"Whatever works for you," Jim agreed, watching as L'anin let out a
shrill whistle and then grinned, starting forward toward the tree.
"Just be careful. There are obstacles in your way..." He managed to
catch up to L'anin just as the elf stumbled over a rock in his path.
He reached out to steady his son.

"This is more complicated than it seems," L'anin admitted. "It will
take much practice."

"And you should have someone with you, at first," Jim cautioned. "I
don't want you getting hurt while you learn how to use the technique."

"I want to show Mother that I am going to be all right," said L'anin.
"He takes on too much responsibility for the accident."

"He cares for you," Jim said softly. "You're his firstborn."

"I know. I love him too." L'anin let out another whistle and began to
advance on the tree again, feeling his way with each step over the
uneven ground. When he finally reached his goal, his face was
triumphant. "Thank you, Sire. I believe this will be a workable
solution. I intend to continue my duties as a Sentry," L'anin stated.

"Not for a good long while," Jim corrected him. "You're a long way
from perfecting the echo technique. You need to give it time; time and
practice."

L'anin let loose a series of short, sharp whistles, turning as he did
so, until he stopped, facing the cabin. "It will not be difficult." He
started back on his own, leaving Jim to follow.

+++++

It was, in fact, more difficult than L'anin had predicted. As he
ventured farther and farther from the familiar grounds in and around
their cabin, he found he had more problems defining the echoes and
their placement. As the days passed by, one after another, L'anin's
confidence faltered and he began straying no further than the garden.

It had been nearly two weeks since the accident when T'erin
approached, the young elflings in tow. "L'anin! Hello, my brother!" He
waved, and then self-consciously brought his hand back down to his
side.

"Hail, T'erin! You do not come alone, I hear." L'anin greeted his
brother with a smile.

T'erin handed K'sali to his brother and L'anin bounced her in his
arms, grinning as the baby squealed with laughter. "The Tribe's
hunters have asked me to go with them to scout game," T'erin
explained. "I have been minding the young ones, but I am afraid I am
going to have to ask you take them back."

"That is no problem," L'anin said, reaching out to take T'lan's small
hand. "I believe that Mother has been missing them."

"How are you doing?"

L'anin's head dropped slightly, and then he lifted it to face his
brother. "I am well. Our Sire has been helping me rebuild the strength
in my arm. Soon, I shall be ready to take up my duties again," he
boasted hollowly.

"What about your sight?"

"It is no better," L'anin said with a sigh. "Mother has done all he
can. I must learn to live in the darkness."

"I am sorry to hear that," said T'erin. "Mother is a skilled Healer.
If he has not been able to restore your sight..."

"How is K'tiri?" L'anin interrupted, changing the subject. "She must
be nearing her due date."

"Another week or two," T'erin said. "The twins weigh heavily on her
and she is anxious to birth them and be done with this pregnancy. You
should see her," he said without thinking. "She is huge!"

L'anin chuckled a bit self-consciously. "I can imagine! This has been
a very long year for her, I will wager."

"It has indeed." T'erin reached out to squeeze L'anin's shoulder in
farewell. "I am sorry I cannot stay longer, but I must prepare for the
hunt."

"Good luck, Brother!" L'anin listened as T'erin's footsteps receded,
and then turned his attention to the two-year-old. "Well, T'lan, I
guess it is just the three of us. Will you help guide me back to the
cabin?"

With a giggle of delight, T'lan took off, dragging his older brother
behind him. As they entered the cabin, Jim followed them in with an
armload of cut firewood. He dumped the load in a wooden box next to
the fireplace and swept his youngest son into his arms.

"It's been a while, little chief, how have you been?"

T'lan giggled and tugged at Jim's ear.

"Where is Mother?" L'anin asked. "I do not hear him."

"He's still out gathering his herbs," said Jim. "He promised to stay
close to home and away from any bears," he added with a touch of humor
in his voice.

"Good! I do not wish to go on another rescue mission so soon." L'anin
made his way carefully to the crib and put K'sali down, more
comfortable with the mobile T'lan than he was with his younger sister.

"This is unfortunate timing," Jim said, sighing. "I was supposed to go
out on a perimeter patrol. I figure you'd do well enough on your own
for a few hours, but now we have the children, too."

"K'sali can sleep," L'anin said, "and I can watch T'lan."

"I don't know..." Jim hesitated. "T'lan can be quite a trial. He's
taken to slipping away if you're not watching closely, and he's not
above taking advantage of your disability."

"I promise that I will keep him safe," L'anin pledged. "We will stay
in the cabin or out in the yard - no farther than that. Let me prove
to you that I can do this."

Jim took a deep breath, weighing L'anin's need to prove himself and
Jim's own need to go on patrol with T'lan's safety. Finally, he blew
out the breath he'd been holding and nodded. "Okay. I won't be gone
more than a couple of hours, and B'layr should be back before that. I
doubt you two could get into too much trouble in that amount of time."
He knelt down next to T'lan. "You stay close to home, understand?
Don't give L'anin any trouble."

T'lan giggled and shook his head in disarming negation while spouting,
"I be good."

Jim ruffled the already tousled curls on his son's head and grinned.
"Okay. I'm counting on you." Straightening up, he clamped a hand on
L'anin's shoulder. "Good luck. You're probably going to need it."

L'anin snorted with laughter. "You are probably right. Go, Sire, and
protect our boundaries. Do not worry about us."

+++++

After Jim left, L'anin made his way cautiously over to the small
refrigerator and removed a bottle of B'layr's milk. T'lan toddled
after him, intently watching his older brother's every move.

"Milk?"

"Not for you, big guy," L'anin said with a grin. "This is for your
sister. If her tummy is full, she will sleep and we can play." He
placed the milk in a pot of hot water to let it warm up. "How about a
sandwich?"

The concept of a sandwich had been foreign to the elves before Jim
became a part of their lives, but was now considered a staple of quick
and easy eating. T'lan walked over to the counter where L'anin was
standing, trying to cut the bread without cutting himself.

"P'mut butter," T'lan requested, tilting his head way back to look up
and up at his taller brother.

"Peanut butter it is," L'anin agreed with a smile, feeling for the
familiar round jar that sat at the back of the counter, near the wall.
He quickly made the sandwich and handed it to the youngster, and then
went to check on the milk. He unscrewed the lid and attached the
plastic nipple, grateful for his enhanced senses and knowledge of the
layout of the cabin. In here, he was almost as deft as an elf with
full sight. Taking the bottle, he approached the crib, lifting K'sali
out and settling in B'layr's favorite rocking chair to feed her.

T'lan was already busy running off his pent up energy around the
spacious cabin. It almost made L'anin dizzy trying to keep track of
the racing elfling.

"Slow down, so that you do not choke on your food!" he admonished.
Tiny feet came to a stop in front of him.

"Play now?"

"Very soon," L'anin agreed. K'sali made short work of the small bottle
and L'anin was able to put her down for her nap. Kneeling on the
floor, he held out his arms and T'lan ran into them. Hugging the
energetic two-year-old, L'anin asked, "So, what would you like to do?"

"Hide-n'-seek," came the prompt reply. T'lan was grinning from ear to
ear, and while L'anin couldn't see it, he could sense it.

His first instinct was to recoil at the suggestion, but L'anin quickly
rethought his reaction. This might be his chance to prove that he
could manage with just four enhanced senses. His mother and sire still
doted on him like an invalid, and L'anin chafed for more independence.
"All right," he agreed. "But the game stays here in the cabin or out
in the yard, no further than the old oak."

"'Kay," agreed T'lan. "Me hide."

"All right, you hide. I shall count to twenty." L'anin made a show of
covering his eyes, even though he couldn't see, and listened carefully
to the direction in which T'lan ran off. He counted slowly, barely
hearing himself as he cast his senses out to follow the elfling. When
he reached twenty, he turned around. "Ready or not, here I come," he
called as he started for the front door.

T'lan had run out into the yard, preferring the trees and bushes for
shelter rather than the furniture in the cabin. Soft giggling led
L'anin around the small garden and out toward the maple. Beyond the
maple, the forest began in earnest. T'lan was forbidden to venture
beyond the maple without someone with him, but this was a game, and
L'anin was following close behind.

The lure of the dense forest vegetation drew the youngster and he
darted into the bushes, crouching down to hide.

L'anin had made his way just beyond the garden and into the forest
undergrowth when the sounds from the elfling ceased. Continuing in the
direction of the last sound he'd heard, L'anin concentrated on his
senses of hearing and smell to locate the youngster.

The forest was a cacophony of sound to the young Sentry: the wind in
the branches, the murmur of the stream, the multiple heartbeats of
birds and animals. L'anin tried to sort them out, tried to single out
the heartbeat of one small elf, but his growing panic interfered with
his abilities.

"T'lan?" he called. "You were supposed to stay in the yard. T'lan?"

The elfling didn't answer, remaining perfectly still. T'lan had to
stifle the urge to laugh as L'anin headed away from his position,
wandering deeper into the forest in his search.

Bewildered, L'anin whistled, trying his echo trick for location, but
the multiple echoes bouncing off the trees and rocks only confused him
more. "The game is over, T'lan," he called. "You forfeited when you
left the garden." His feet continued to carry L'anin deeper into the
forest as his senses betrayed him, leaving him confused and lost.

+++++

An hour later, B'layr came home to find T'lan sitting alone on the
circular throw rug in the middle of the cabin's great room. Dropping
his collecting bag on the table, he quickly assessed that K'sali was
fine in her crib and then quickly went over to his son.

"Where is your Sire, T'lan?" he asked. "And where is L'anin?"

"Papa gone," T'lan answered. "L'anin playing hide-n'-seek."

B'layr's heart raced. He hadn't seen any signs of either Jim or L'anin
on his way back from gathering. Now, his eldest son was missing, and
his heart was in his throat. No! He wouldn't lose another. He
*couldn't*. But his hands were tied until Jim came home. The two
youngest members of the Ellison family needed their mother to watch
over them.

Thirty minutes later, Jim walked in, hanging his crossbow on the wall
and smiling a warm welcome at his mate. "Hi, honey, I'm home!" he
quipped, approaching B'layr for a hug and kiss.

"Where have you been?" B'layr snapped, backing off a step so that he
could study Jim. His body was tense with anger and fear, and he
vibrated with the emotions he fought to contain.

"I was on patrol," Jim answered, completely nonplussed at B'layr's
reaction. "There have been humans hunting near our territory and
K'tiri had asked me to scout out the area."

"And you left the little ones home alone?"

"I left them with L'anin," Jim said flatly. Looking around, he noticed
for the first time that their eldest son wasn't in the room. "Where is
he, by the way?"

"That is a very good question!" B'layr spat. "T'lan says they were
playing hide-and-seek. But L'anin has not come home!"

"Shit!" Jim turned around and quickly ran back out of the cabin in
search of their lost son.

Fortunately, he did not have to go far. About a half mile from their
home in a westerly direction leading toward the helicopter's landing
meadow, he found L'anin huddled on a fallen tree trunk, his knees
pulled up and his face buried.

"L'anin?" Jim pulled gently at his son's hands, getting him to open
up. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"T'lan wanted to play hide-and-seek. I thought..." L'anin sighed and
then pounded on his upraised knees with his fist. "I *thought* he
would be easy to follow with my other senses!"

Jim wrapped an arm around his distraught son. "Everything is going to
be okay, L'anin. Let me take you home."

"I-I got lost," L'anin confessed, sliding down from his perch on the
tree trunk. "I tried the echo trick, but it just got me more confused.
I couldn't hear or smell T'lan once I got out of the yard."

"Why did you venture out of the yard in the first place?" Jim asked,
gently guiding his son back down the trail.

"T'lan ran off, even after all the admonishments to not leave the
garden. I did not want to disappoint you or Mother... but I let you
down, did I not?"

"No, L'anin. This was my fault. B'layr is angry, but he is angry with
me for leaving you alone with the children. For all your bravado,
you're still handicapped. You haven't had enough time to adapt yet."
They broke out of the heavy forest and into the garden area. Jim led
L'anin back to the cabin and helped him inside.

"L'anin! You are all right!" B'layr's voice was filled with relief. "I
was so worried about you!"

"T'lan? Is he...?" L'anin asked, wondering why Jim hadn't mentioned
the child.

"He was waiting here in the cabin when I came home," B'layr explained.
"He told me you were playing with him and got lost. I wished to go
searching for you myself, but I could not leave the young ones." He
gathered L'anin into a fierce hug, not wanting to let go. "It was you
that I feared for."

"I am all right," L'anin replied, his voice tense with the effort to
hold back his tears. "I am sorry. I should have done better."

"You did the best you could," B'layr replied. "You should not have
been left alone with the elflings." At this, he shot a glare over at
Jim.

"My Sire needed to go out on patrol," L'anin said, coming to Jim's
defense. "K'tiri asked him to. T'erin brought the children home
because he also had a scouting mission. I thought I could care for
them both. I was wrong. Do not blame J'anin for doing his duty."

B'layr spun on Jim, planting his hands firmly on his hips. "That is
it. Make arrangements for me. I am going to the Ancients. Perhaps
N'elu can teach me what I need to know."

"You can't go now!" Jim exclaimed. "K'tiri is due to give birth any
day now! The only other qualified Healer is blind!"

"One does not need to see in order to birth a baby," B'layr declared.
"Good ears and a deft hand are all that is required. If need be,
L'anin can use your eyes. I must go, and I must go now. I have waited
too long and almost lost another son."

"I was not in danger," L'anin said softly. "I knew I had but to wait,
and someone would come and find me."

"What if the she-bear had found you first?" B'layr snapped, turning on
his son.

L'anin shook his head. "I posed no threat to her or her cub, nor to
any of the other predators in the forest."

"You had me worried sick," B'layr continued, his voice softening.
"This is all my fault; all of it. It is my responsibility to make this
right again, and the only way I can do that is to return to the
Ancients as I promised them I would do to learn more about the Healing
magic and how to control it."

"It can wait another week or two," Jim insisted, coming over to wrap
his arms around his mate and nuzzle behind a delicately pointed ear.

"It cannot." B'layr broke free of the hold and went to the closet to
drag out his traveling bag. "I have made up my mind. If you will not
make the arrangements for me, I will walk into Cascade and talk to
Stevie myself."

"Don't be crazy! It's over a hundred miles to Cascade!" Jim's patience
with his mate's obstinacy was beginning to wear thin.

"Then call Stevie and make the arrangements," B'layr said, stuffing
several changes of clothes into the knapsack. "Because the sooner I
leave, the sooner I can return." He looked up at Jim and smiled. "I
love you, my heart. Do this for me?"

The sudden shift in attitude took Jim by surprise. He looked into the
depths of the blue eyes watching him and melted. He had known from the
beginning that it had been a losing battle to argue with B'layr. His
soulmate always ended up getting his way.

"All right. But promise me you won't stay for longer than is
absolutely necessary? We need you here," Jim said, approaching the
radio set and making the call. Five minutes later he turned back to
his family. "Well, you heard Stevie. He'll be here in forty-five
minutes. He'll take you to the airport and the Ellison jet will fly
you to Romania."

"Thank you, my heart!" B'layr threw himself into Jim's arms, kissing
him soundly. "I shall miss all of you. Take care and be well while I
am gone."

Jim picked up the knapsack and shouldered it. "I'll walk you to the
clearing."

"Best you stay here," B'layr replied, plucking the pack from Jim's
shoulder. "I can make it on my own."

"I want to see you off," Jim insisted.

B'layr once more leaned in to kiss Jim, whispering in his ear, "I do
not wish you to leave L'anin alone right now." Then, as he pulled
away, he smiled and spoke up. "I love you all. I promise to return on
ravens' wings." With his final blessing, B'layr turned to go, heading
down the path to the clearing on his own.

+++++

The flight was tiring, and when the plane touched down in Bucharest,
B'layr wanted nothing more than to find a hotel and sleep. But a
driving force urged him on, and he took a cab to the train station,
buying a one-way ticket that would put him close to the town of
Pestera, near the Transylvanian Alps.

Shouldering his pack, he walked into town looking for the garish palm
reading shop that was the home of his good friends Stefan and Ana.
Knocking on the door, he was surprised when he was greeted by a worn
old woman - a woman who barely resembled the one he remembered.

"Ana! It is me, B'layr. I am back." As Ana moved aside to let him in,
he continued. "Sorry I did not wire ahead, but the visit was
unplanned." He looked around the cozy home, which now seemed oddly
empty. "Where is the Vaida Stefan?"

"My husband has gone to be with his ancestors," Ana said softly, her
face still pinched with pain. "Come, kesali, sit and make yourself at
home." She shuffled into the kitchen to put on the water for tea.

B'layr settled into a chair at the kitchen table. "Stefan is gone?
When? How? It has been only a year since J'anin and I were here last.
He was fine."

Ana went about her business quietly for a while longer, and then
brought over two mugs of hot herbal tea. "It was a stroke," she
replied, "three months ago. It was very sudden."

"I am so sorry to hear that!" B'layr wrapped his hands around the
warming mug, but didn't drink. "He was a good man. You must be very
lonely."

"The house has been empty without him," Ana admitted. "But it is good
to have you here." She mustered a small smile for her guest. "The
kesali are considered to be good luck," she told him. "It has been my
honor to receive you as a guest."

"I cannot stay long," B'layr told the old woman. "I am on an urgent
mission."

"What is so urgent that you cannot stay a few days to lighten the life
of an old woman?" Ana sipped her tea and regarded B'layr with large,
brown eyes.

"Our son, L'anin, was blinded in an encounter with a she-bear," B'layr
explained. "I must go to the Ancients and ask N'elu to teach me to
control the Healing magic. It is my fault our son lost his sight."

"I can understand your wish to hurry," Ana said, "but I do wish you
would stay on for a day, at least."

"I also have a daughter at home who is about to give birth any day,"
B'layr continued. "Our only other trained Healer is L'anin, the one
who was blinded. It is urgent that I be on my way."

"It is late and will be dark within a few minutes," Ana reasoned.
"Stay the night and venture out in the morning. I will not take 'no'
for an answer."

B'layr smiled warmly at the old woman and picked up his mug of tea to
sip. "I will accept your gracious offer," he agreed. "But I must be
off at first light tomorrow."

+++++

The morning sun filtered through the trees, tingeing the air a warm
gold-green. Jim came back into the cabin from using the outhouse to
find L'anin sitting at the table, staring straight ahead at nothing.

"It's a beautiful day," Jim said, clapping a hand on L'anin's
shoulder. "How about we go outside and take a walk?"

"I would rather not," L'anin replied, shrugging off the hand.

Jim pulled out a chair and sat down next to his son. "What's the
matter? Aren't you feeling well?"

L'anin shook his head. "It is not that. I just do not feel like going
outside."

"I thought we could walk over to K'tiri's cabin and visit with A'mere.
Your son misses his father," Jim wheedled.

"A'mere is better off being fostered for now," L'anin replied. "I
cannot care for him myself."

Jim studied his son. L'anin sat with a stiff back, head held high,
eyes staring sightlessly at the wall. He didn't even make an attempt
to turn his face toward Jim as they talked. "What's the matter, son?"

"What makes you think anything is the matter?" L'anin asked bitterly.
"Nothing is the matter. I just do not feel like going for a walk. Can
we not leave it at that?"

"No, I don't think we can." Jim spoke slowly, his eyes never shifting
from the stoic face of his son. "Something is bothering you. Is it
that you got lost yesterday while playing with T'lan?"

"T'lan was my responsibility while you and Mother were gone, and I let
you down," L'anin said, his voice hard and unforgiving. "More than
that, I lost my bearings and caused you all to worry." He stood
suddenly, the chair he was sitting in tipping and falling to the floor
with a crash that made the elf flinch. He raised his voice, anger
fueling the volume. "I am useless! Worse than useless - I am a
burden!" Bracing his arms on the table, he leaned toward Jim. "Just
leave me alone!" His voice softened as he stood and turned toward the
bed. "Please, just leave me alone."

Jim watched with sadness as his son climbed back into bed and pulled
the covers over his head, burrowing into the warm, dark shelter. His
attention was soon diverted by K'sali's cries, so he rose and went to
get the breast milk stored in the refrigerator. While he was feeding
his daughter, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he called softly.

The door swung open. Standing there, silhouetted by the bright sun
behind her, was a very pregnant K'tiri holding T'lan's hand. "Lose
someone?" she asked, a chuckle in her voice. "I found him wandering in
my garden area, helping himself to the huckleberries."

T'lan grinned at his father, his mouth stained a blue-black from the
fruit.

Jim just shook his head, grinning back at his wandering son. "Thank
you for bringing him home. I'll admit, I hadn't even missed him yet."

"You have your hands full, now that Mother has gone to visit the
Ancients," K'tiri said. "It is not surprising to find you have trouble
keeping up with it all. How is L'anin?" She cast her glance over at
the bed where the elf in question quietly lay.

"How do you feel about a walk in the warm sun?" Jim suggested, guiding
his daughter and youngest son back out into the garden.

K'tiri waddled over to the bench that overlooked the manicured yard
around the cabin and settled her bulk on the seat. "I hope you do not
mind, but my feet hurt," she complained, smiling up at her father.

"Not at all," Jim replied, sitting next to her while still cradling
K'sali in his arms. The two adults watched as T'lan ran around the
garden chasing butterflies. "I'm worried about L'anin."

"Has he become ill?" K'tiri asked. "I thought Mother had healed all
the wounds. There should be no infection."

"It's not that," said Jim, shaking his head. "He seems angry,
distracted. I can't get him interested in coming outside."

"He was traumatized. I imagine that he feels he let you down. He not
only could not watch this little whirlwind," she said, pointing to
T'lan, "but he got lost as well. I am sure his self-esteem is
suffering at the moment."

"I figured that much," Jim said with a sigh. "But what am I supposed
to do? I know B'layr thinks that this visit to the Ancients will give
him the knowledge he needs to give L'anin back his sight, but what if
he's wrong? What if L'anin remains blind?"

"He will have to learn to deal with that when and if the time comes,"
K'tiri said. "But for now, there is the kernel of hope that he clings
to. Perhaps you should try to encourage him to do something inside, so
that he does not need to come out if he does not wish. He is an
accomplished weaver, like Mother. Set up the loom. That is something
he can do by touch alone."

"That's a great idea," Jim agreed with relief. "I think B'layr has
some balls of wool spun and ready to weave."

"He needs to be able to do something that he enjoys, something at
which he can excel, even without his sight." K'tiri rubbed her hands
over the vast expanse of her belly and moaned. "They fight for room,"
she said softly. "I will be so glad of the day they decide to come
into the world."

"I just hope B'layr gets home in time," said Jim, placing one of his
hands over K'tiri's on her stomach. "I don't feel comfortable being a
birth attendant, and L'anin... well, I doubt he'd have the confidence
to try right now."

"I am not sure they will wait much longer." K'tiri's face contorted
with the pain of a false contraction. "I am still two weeks away from
my due date, but Mother told me that twins often come early."

"Do whatever you have to do to keep them in there until your mother
gets home!" Jim said, semi-seriously. "I mean it. I've already got my
hands full. You don't want a ham-handed birth attendant!"

K'tiri chuckled and squeezed one of Jim's hands. "You are not
'ham-handed', Sire. I have witnessed your own medical skills. You
birthed T'erin and me -"

"That was different!" Jim protested. "If I hadn't tried, you and
B'layr would have both died. I thought I was killing my soulmate to
save my daughter..."

"But you did not. You saved us both," K'tiri said with a gentle smile.

"I do *not* want to go through that again," Jim said stubbornly.
"You'll just have to wait."

K'tiri pushed wearily to her feet. "It is not up to me to make that
decision." She leaned over to press a chaste kiss against Jim's cheek.
"But I shall pray that Mother makes it home in time. Take care, Sire,
and try to keep T'lan in his own garden." She smiled warmly at the
wandering toddler before turning to leave.

"Hey there, my little explorer," Jim said, rising to cross the yard
and join T'lan at the garden. "How about we go inside and set up
Mommy's loom?" He took the youngster's hand and led him back into the
cabin.

+++++

B'layr had paid a local farmer to drive his horse and wagon up the
road that led to the Ancient's home. As he was jostled along, he
prayed that N'elu and his Tribe would have the answers he sought.

"You can let me off here," he said. They were literally in the middle
of nowhere, with the road stretching north and south before and behind
them and the forest to either side.

"Are you sure?" the farmer asked. "There is nothing here. The next
town is still many miles."

"This is where I wish to be," B'layr insisted. "Thank you for your
time and the use of your wagon." He climbed down, and waited while the
farmer turned his rig around and started back down the road.

"Crazy foreigners," the farmer muttered as he drove off.

B'layr watched until the rig disappeared around a bend in the road,
and then he plunged into the forest, heading for the camp of elves
known as the Ancients. He was met by G'hita, one of the younger Sentry
scouts. "G'hita! Greetings!"

"B'layr, you have returned! It has been no more than a turn of the
seasons. We did not expect you back for many tens of turns. Come,
D'oru and N'elu will be happy to see you!" G'hita turned and led the
way back into the forest by a path that had become familiar to B'layr
from his previous visits.

They had traveled for several hours on the half-day journey to the
camp when B'layr stopped and called to his guide. "G'hita! I can
continue on from here; I remember the path. Your duty is to patrol the
borders and I do not wish to keep you from that task."

"You are certain?" G'hita turned to look doubtfully at his guest. "It
is still many hours' walk to our camp and the trail becomes less
traveled. You are not a Sentry..."

"No, but I know my way from here. Go, protect your Tribe and join us
later when you are able." B'layr smiled at the Sentry guard and patted
his shoulder reassuringly. "Go on," he urged.

G'hita turned back, slipping off the trail and blending into the
forest with the ease of his race to disappear. B'layr turned his face
toward the deep forest and set foot on the path that would lead him to
his elders.

Hours later, B'layr emerged into a large clearing and was met by
F'lorin, another Sentry, with a raven perched on his shoulder.

"Welcome, Brother! G'hita sent word of your coming!" He gave the bird
a small treat and it flew off into the trees. "To what do we owe the
honor?"

B'layr dropped his pack, which had become heavy on the long walk. "I
have great need," he replied. "Is N'elu nearby?"

"Are you hurt? Ill?" F'lorin immediately picked up the heavy pack and
began to lead B'layr deeper into the camp.

B'layr shook his head. "It is not for me, but for my son, L'anin. He
was blinded in an accident when he put himself in harm's way to save
my life," he explained. "I have been able to heal his visible wounds,
but I have not been able to give him back his sight. N'elu invited me
back to learn more of the Healing magic..."

"Indeed! Welcome back, young master!" N'elu emerged from a small hut
to greet his friend and fellow Healer. "I did not expect you back so
soon."

"I have great need," B'layr repeated.

"So I overheard," N'elu said. "I am glad you have returned. The
Healing magic is not hard to master, but it takes practice and time."

"Time is something I am very short on," said B'layr. "L'anin is an
independent elf, and this life of dependency is not weighing well with
him. He became disoriented and lost in the forest near our home and I
feared that I might lose another of my children. I must return home
able to give him back his sight. Is it possible?"

"It is," N'elu pronounced. "But it is a skill that takes time to
master properly. Can L'anin not wait a few more weeks for his sight?"

B'layr shook his head. "Perhaps he could, but he is not my only reason
for haste. Our daughter, K'tiri, is pregnant with twins and nears her
birth day. L'anin is the only other Healer in our Tribe who is skilled
with difficult births. I must return to aid them both."

"When are the elflings due?" N'elu asked, concern written in his aging
face.

"A week. Two at the most," B'layr replied. "I have days, not weeks or
months, to learn the skills I need."

"Then we should get busy," N'elu pronounced, turning to lead B'layr
into the small hut.

+++++

Jim had moved the loom over in front of the main window of the cabin.
That way, L'anin could at least feel the sun as it poured through the
glass. A basket full of colorful balls of yarn waited on the floor.
The warp was already strung, so that all L'anin needed to do was weave
the weft into a blanket.

Jim walked across the room, taking L'anin's arm. "Come on, I have the
loom all set up for you."

"I do not know..." L'anin hesitated, lowering himself to the floor in
front of the loom. "I may not be able to do this."

"And why not?" Jim asked. "You're a master weaver. You have your sense
of touch. What more do you need?" He picked up the shuttle that was
already strung with yarn and handed it to his son.

"I cannot see the colors. How will I know how to weave the pattern?"

"Don't worry about the pattern," Jim urged. "Just weave us another
blanket. The old ones are wearing thin."

L'anin sat with the shuttle in his hand for several minutes before
beginning. After only a few rows, the yarn became tangled and L'anin's
frustration grew. Throwing down the shuttle, he stood and stormed off
back to his bed. "I cannot. I do not wish to weave."

"It's just a little tangle," Jim said, picking up the shuttle and
unknotting the yarn. "You could have done this with your hands tied
behind your back. Get back over here and try again."

"No." L'anin pulled the blankets back up over his head and burrowed
into the solitude of his hideaway.

Frustrated with his son's attitude, Jim strode over to the bed and
yanked the covers back down. "You're acting like a child. You're not
helpless, L'anin. Get up and get over there and work on that blanket!
Use your sense of touch. Weaving is repetitive and simple, and you're
already *good* at it. You just need to slow down and take your time
until you develop a feel for it again."

"I do not wish to weave right now," L'anin said. "I do not feel like
it."

"Tell me, then," said Jim, sitting on the edge of the bed and
softening his voice. "What is it that you feel like doing?"

"I do not know. Right now, I do not want to do anything."

"Are you hungry? I could fix you something to eat."

"No," L'anin replied. "I am not hungry. I just wish to be left alone."

Defeated, Jim sighed. "All right, have it your way." He got up and
walked back over to the door, heading outside to where the sunshine
lifted his spirits. T'lan followed him like a small shadow.

"Papa play hide-n'-seek? T'lan looked up hopefully at his father's
face.

Jim crouched down to be at eye level with his son. "Not right now,
little chief. Papa has some work he needs to do here in the garden.
Why don't we put you to work over here?" he suggested, leading the
youngster to a small patch of root vegetables. "You can pull all the
radishes in this row. Okay?" He tugged on the leafy greens of one
radish, pulling up the bright red and white root for T'lan to see.

Delighted, the elfling set to work discovering the small red treasures
buried in the brown earth. Once he was busy, Jim set to work pulling
weeds. Usually, B'layr tended the garden, but he wasn't here and Jim
needed something to do that would help to relieve the growing tension
in his household. When he looked up a few minutes later to see how
T'lan was doing, the child had disappeared.

Dropping his tools and gloves, Jim began to search for the toddler.
"T'lan! Come on out, little chief. I told you we'd play games later,"
he called. Dialing up his hearing, he listened for the telltale
giggles that usually gave the youngster away. When that didn't work,
he dialed up sight as well and started a careful grid search of the
garden area. Fifteen minutes later, he was still looking.

Small tracks led off in the direction of the long houses. Jim followed
the footprints and other clues, searching the shrubs and vines along
the way for the lost elfling.

"Looking for this one?" S'kim approached from around a bend in the
path with T'lan sitting high on his shoulder. "I found him chasing
butterflies and thought that perhaps you would want him back home."

"Thank you, S'kim," Jim said, taking the giggling youngster in his
arms. "He's a fast one; always running off."

"Is there anything I can do to be of service to your family?" S'kim
asked, anxious to build approval with the powerful patriarch of the
Wolf Tribe. "Since L'anin's accident, things have been hard on your
family. Perhaps you would allow me to watch this one for you, so that
you are better able to care for L'anin and K'sali?"

"'kim!" T'lan reached for the younger elf. "Play hide-n'-seek?"

S'kim laughed. "His favorite game, I would guess?"

Jim let out a guffaw at the understatement. "You could say that. I've
had a beast of a time keeping an eye on him while taking care of
everyone else."

"I would be honored to foster T'lan until B'layr comes home. Anything
I can do to take some of the weight from your shoulders." S'kim
watched the subtle expressions play over Jim's face as he thought
about the offer.

Jim turned to look at the spritely bundle of energy he held in his
arms. "How would you like to go live with S'kim for a few days?" he
asked.

"'kim!" the youngster shouted, holding out his arms to be lifted away
from his father.

"I guess that answers that question," Jim replied with a chuckle.
"He's all yours, with my undying gratitude. Good luck!"

"I will watch over him for you, J'anin. You do not have to worry."
S'kim took the youngster and bounced him in his arms. "I will make
sure to bring him by daily for visits, unless you would rather I did
not?"

Jim eyed the eager young elf. "No, that would be fine. I'd like to
have visits, if you have the time to bring him over."

"I will make it a priority in my day," S'kim promised. "Thank you for
trusting me."

"You've earned it," said Jim. "Thank *you* for offering."

The two parted ways, S'kim taking the elfling back to the longhouse
where he lived while Jim made his way back down the path toward his
cabin. Now he could concentrate on L'anin, and on finding something
the stubborn elf would be willing to try.

+++++

It had already been three days, and B'layr didn't feel as though he
was making progress.

"I just cannot quite wrap my mind around the concept," he complained
to N'elu.

"That is because you have studied too long in the world of men and
have forgotten your roots," N'elu chided gently. "All that is
necessary to use the Healing magic is imagination. Please do not tell
me that in your world of machines, you no longer have to think for
yourself."

"It is not *my* world," B'layr argued. "But I have spent time there,
studied in men's universities and achieved high degrees in learning."

"And in so doing, have lost that vital part of you that believes. This
is *magic*, B'layr; elven magic - it is your heritage and your
strength. Your instinct is strong," N'elu continued. "You have used
the magic, even though you are untrained. All you must do now is
release your doubt and believe you can do this."

"Explain it to me again," B'layr requested.

N'elu shook his head, grinning. "You will talk this to death, young
Healer, but all right. You have seen the glow of the Healing energy
emanate from your hands." He held his own out, palms up, and watched
as B'layr studied them. "You place your hands over the injury or the
source of the illness. Then you must picture in your mind the result
you wish to achieve. You must hold that picture, in every detail,
*knowing* that what you see is the truth." He pressed his palm against
B'layr's scarred shoulder and closed his eyes. "You see it as you want
it to be..." A warm, golden glow issued from his hand and B'layr could
feel the heat soaking deep into flesh and muscle. "And if you believe
it will be, than it shall be." He removed his hand and peeled back the
layers of clothing B'layr wore to show his apprentice that the scars
had healed. Nothing was left but thin silver lines that would fade
with time.

"I did not even think to try and heal myself," B'layr said, rubbing
his shoulder. "It feels whole again."

"Because it is," N'elu said. "I saw the whole muscles, the healed
flesh - not the injury - and my belief made it so."

"That is too easy," B'layr argued. "Just think it and it happens?"

"No, it is not easy," N'elu countered. "You do not just think it, you
must *believe* it, know it. And that is your fatal error. You do not
believe it can be that easy."

B'layr heaved a sigh, his shoulders rising and falling. Folding his
hands in his lap, he looked at his teacher. "What am I to do? How can
I learn to simply believe?"

"You must have faith, young one. Do you believe in a higher power?"

"Do you mean God?"

"Whatever you want to call it," N'elu agreed. "Men call it by many
names: God, Jehovah, Allah, Buddha... more. It is the creation force,
the life-giver. You cannot see it, but you know it is there. Do you
believe?"

B'layr shrugged. "I suppose. Before I met J'anin, I was familiar with
the spirit world. I still walk there occasionally. There is more
beyond this life, than we can see or know."

"And how do you know this?"

"I have seen it," B'layr answered truthfully, perplexed at where the
conversation was leading.

N'elu raised a finger, pointing upward to the sky. "Ah, but can you
*show* what you have seen to others?"

B'layr shook his head. "No, I can only tell them what I have
witnessed."

"They take it on faith that you have seen the other world. *You* take
it on faith that you have truly been there and witnessed the spirits.
It is that faith you must tap into; the knowledge that what you seek
is within your grasp."

"But how will I know?" B'layr asked. "How will I know if - when - I
achieve this level of faith?"

 "Do you love your son?" N'elu asked.

"Of course I do!" B'layr replied, surprised that the Healer would even
have to ask.

"Then how can you *not* believe that you can heal him?" N'elu asked.
Nodding sagely and smiling, he added, "You will know."

+++++

A week had passed since B'layr had gone, and Jim was nowhere nearer to
coaxing L'anin out of the cabin than he had been the day his soulmate
left. He was beginning to despair when a runner came with news.

"J'anin! Come quickly! K'tiri has gone into labor and she needs your
presence."

Jim shook his head. He had dreaded this day, praying that B'layr would
make it back in time to attend the birth of their daughter's twins.
K'tiri, apparently had a different idea.

Hurrying over to the mound of blankets in L'anin's bed, Jim swiftly
pulled the covers back and spoke to his son. "You're coming."

"Where? What is happening?" L'anin asked, still a bit disoriented from
sleep.

"K'tiri is giving birth, and our attendance is required!"

"Why? There is nothing I can do," L'anin protested.

"Bullshit!" Jim said, grabbing L'anin's arm and hauling him off the
bed. "You're coming with me. We may need you."

The going was slower with L'anin in tow, but they made it to the
clearing where a traditional birthing platform had been set up. Furs
and pillows were piled high on the raised dais, and a crowd was
forming to watch the birth of the Chieftess's twins. Jim positioned
L'anin near the platform's steps.

"Stay here; don't move," he ordered. "I'm going to go help bring
K'tiri out." Jim waited for L'anin's nod of capitulation before
hurrying off to the cabin where K'tiri waited with her mate, S'kur.

"How is she doing?" Jim asked S'kur as the two men flanked the heavily
gravid elf and helped her walk toward the birthing platform.

"About as to be expected," S'kur answered with a grin. "She has been
cursing the ancestors and me for getting her pregnant."

The walk to the platform was blessedly short, and K'tiri sank
gratefully onto the furs. She clutched at her abdomen and groaned, the
sound turning into a cry as a contraction rippled across the taut
surface of her skin.

"Sire?"

Jim was distracted by the soft voice of his son. L'anin had reached up
to tug on his father's sleeve, but had reached the hem of his jeans
instead.

"Yes, L'anin? What is it?" Jim was busy removing the last of the
binding clothing on the pregnant elf, leaving his daughter naked to
the warm afternoon sun.

"An infusion of clematis would help increase K'tiri's tolerance to the
pain," L'anin suggested. "I would go, but..."

Jim turned to S'kur. "Can you bring the tea?" he asked.

K'tiri's mate gave a curt nod and hurried off to find the requested
ingredient in his wife's store of herbal medicines.

"This is K'tiri's second pregnancy and she carries twins," L'anin
said. "Unless there is difficulty, the labor should be swift and the
birthing easy."

"Easy for you to say," Jim muttered, kneeling between his daughter's
knees. "I don't have the experience of you or B'layr for this sort of
thing."

L'anin felt his way to the stairs leading up to the platform.
Carefully, he climbed and knelt behind his Sire. "Let me..."

Jim moved out of the way and let his son take his place. L'anin
reached out to place one hand on the mound of K'tiri's belly, while
the fingers of the other gently probed her vagina, checking on the
progress of the dilation of her cervix.

"Labor is just getting started," he announced, pulling his hand out
and wiping it on the furs. He felt another contraction ripple across
his sister's belly and heard the long, low moan of pain. "K'tiri, when
this contraction passes, I want you to take a series of slow, deep
breaths - blow them out slowly; empty your lungs. When the next
contraction starts, I want you to take another deep breath, but let it
out in a series of short puffs for the duration of the contraction.
Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," K'tiri gasped, nodding while she puffed out the rest of her
current breath. The cramping eased and she smiled. "Thank you,
L'anin."

"Do not thank me yet," he replied. "This is a long way from over."
Turning his head back toward the stairs, he called out to Jim. "Sire,
would you come and take my place?"

"Why? You're doing a fine job," Jim complimented him. "I think K'tiri
is more comfortable with you there."

"Just for now," L'anin asked. "Make sure she breathes as I instructed
and let me know when the contractions are coming closer together."

Jim shrugged, but did as he was asked, taking L'anin's place between
K'tiri's knees.

L'anin made his way cautiously down from the platform. "S'kur?"

K'tiri's mate materialized at L'anin's side immediately. "What is it?
Is everything all right?"

"Guide me," L'anin ordered. "Take me away from here. Your cabin would
suffice."

S'kur's face hardened as L'anin's tone of voice sunk in. Taking the
blind Healer by the arm, he led him away from the birthing meadow and
back to their cabin. "Now, what is it? What did you not want K'tiri to
overhear?"

"During the contractions I could feel the twins," L'anin began. "The
one coming first is turned wrong. It is presenting butt first."

"Is that a problem?" S'kur had begun to fidget, worrying about his
mate.

"It is not serious," L'anin assured him, "but it will make the
birthing of the firstborn more difficult. I do wish Mother was
here..."

"Well, he is not," S'kur pointed out sharply. "What are you going to
do about this?"

"M-Me? I cannot see, S'kur! What can I do?" L'anin protested. "I can
only tell you what is happening."

"You can do more," S'kur said. "You are a skilled Healer. The
knowledge is in your hands, your heart, and your head. It is not in
your eyes. B'layr is not here; you are. You are the only one with the
skill to bring my child safely into this world."

"My Sire is trained..."

"Not as well as you," S'kur interrupted. "If there is to be any
complication, I want you to be the one. You are a Sentry, L'anin. Use
the gifts the Creator of All Things gave to you."

"I do not know that I can."

"You *can*! I put my faith in you, Healer. I put K'tiri and her issue
into your hands. Go to her; help her," S'kur begged.

L'anin nodded. "Take me to her."

+++++

K'tiri tossed her head, grunting with the effort of trying not to push
as L'anin knelt between her spread legs and inserted his hand into her
body. His other hand rested on the mound of her belly. As gently as
possible, he tried to turn the breech presentation, but with two
elflings in the womb, it appeared to be an insurmountable task.

Even though he could not see, L'anin closed his eyes and laid an ear
against K'tiri's belly. The sound of three strong heartbeats - his
sister's and her twins - reverberated loudly. Smiling, he lifted his
head.

"The elflings are strong and determined," he told K'tiri. "But the
first one will be born breech."

"Do what you have to do," K'tiri panted. "Just bring them into the
world safely."

+++++

B'layr was anxious, now, to get home. Whether he could apply his
newfound knowledge was not yet a certainty, but he believed he had the
power within him to accomplish the miracle. The helicopter landed in
the clearing and B'layr climbed out.

"Thanks, Stevie. I really appreciate this."

"Not a problem, B'layr, you know that. See ya soon!" Steven, Jr.,
pulled back on the throttle as he waved his farewell.

B'layr stood, watching the helicopter lift off and fly away over the
trees. Then, shouldering his pack, he began the long walk into the
forest toward home.

+++++

The cabin was empty when B'layr arrived. After dropping his backpack
inside, he turned to walk toward the common meadow. Even without
Sentry hearing, he could make out the sound of many voices gathered.
As he neared the clearing, the distinct cry of an infant could be
heard over the general noise.

Shouldering his way through the crowd, he found Jim standing next to a
birthing platform holding the squalling baby. To his surprise, L'anin
was engaged in birthing K'tiri's second twin.

"What is going on here?" he asked, motioning with his head toward the
platform. "I would not have expected to see L'anin on the platform."

"K'tiri decided she couldn't wait for you to get back," Jim answered,
grinning as he handed over the infant to his mate. "This one presented
butt first and needed a skilled Healer to birth him. Fortunately for
all of us, all that was needed was a pair of skilled hands."

"I knew our son had it in him to do whatever he put his mind to,"
B'layr said, returning the grin. "He just had to find the confidence
inside himself."

A second cry rent the ambient noise, drawing everyone's attention back
to the birthing platform.

L'anin laid the second infant in K'tiri's arms and sat back with a
sigh of relief that it was nearly over. "On your next contraction,
give me another gentle push," he instructed. With one hand resting on
K'tiri's belly, he waited for the cramp. "Now," he said quietly.

S'kur had come up the platform steps and pressed a softly tanned
leather hide into L'anin's hands. The Healer caught the expelled
placenta and wrapped it in the suede, handing it back to K'tiri's
mate. He then took a blanket that had been placed beside his sister
and covered her to keep her warm.

"Rest now, K'tiri. You have earned that right."

Silvery laughter met L'anin's ears. "For all of five minutes, maybe. I
have twins to raise, Brother, thanks to you."

"You were the one who did all the work," L'anin demurred. "I was only
here to assist."

"Well, I thank you anyway," K'tiri insisted. "It was not an easy
birth, after all."

"I did what was needed," L'anin replied. "Take care, Sister. You are
blessed."

Jim stepped up to help L'anin down the steps as B'layr passed the
infant in his arms to S'kur.

"B'layr is home," he told his son.

"Mother?" L'anin turned, listening for the familiar heartbeat, the
beloved voice.

"Yes, L'anin. I arrived home in time to witness a miracle," B'layr
said, guiding his son away from the platform to a bench where they
both could sit.

H'tim approached with a bowl of water and soft skins for cleaning the
blood off L'anin's hands. As the blind Healer washed, B'layr
continued, "I had hoped to return home before K'tiri went into labor."

"It is not your fault, Mother," said L'anin. "One cannot know when
twins will choose to be born."

B'layr laughed. "How well I know!" he agreed. "It is good that you
were here to help when I could not."

"I did not know if I was still able," L'anin admitted, "but K'tiri
needed me, and so I tried."

"And you need me," B'layr responded softly. "It is my turn to wonder,
but also to try. Close your eyes." When L'anin complied, B'layr placed
a hand over his eyelids, covering his eyes. "I was taught to
imagine... and to believe," he said. "Now we shall see if I learned."

A small detachment of the crowd began to gather around the bench as a
warm, golden glow began to emanate from B'layr's palm, bathing
L'anin's face with aurulent luminosity. B'layr's own eyes closed and
his brows knitted with concentration. Jim looked on with concern,
knowing how the Healing magic always took its toll on his soulmate's
strength.

Finally, B'layr's hand dropped and his shoulders slumped, exhaustion
from his journey and the Healing catching up with him at last.

L'anin slowly opened his eyes, blinking at the bright sun as he raised
his head and pointed toward the sky. "Look, Mother! It is the yellow
bird!"

A collective gasp came from the gathered crowd, and a voice rang out.
"It is another miracle!"

B'layr smiled wearily and raised his eyes to the sky. "Many
generations of my yellow bird have graced this Tribe," he said. "Once
a gift to calm me and make me feel comfortable in the strangeness of
the big city, it has come to signify health and good fortune for our
People."

"Well, it certainly couldn't have appeared at a more appropriate
time," Jim said, coming to join his family on the bench. "It seems
that we have a great deal to celebrate today."

The reunion was cut short when a young elf excitedly ran up to the
family, grabbing L'anin's hand and pulling him to his feet. "Come on!
The bonfire has been lit. It is time to celebrate!"

Laughing, L'anin followed, buoyed by his accomplishments of that day
and his newly recovered sight.

Jim and B'layr were grinning like fools in their happiness as they
watched the two elves hurry off. Jim stood and offered his hand to
help B'layr up. "Feel like celebrating, old man?"

B'layr's eyes lit up like candles in a dark room and his mouth
twitched with mirth. Springing to his feet with energy that Jim hadn't
realized the elf still possessed, B'layr began to jog after their son.
Stopping a few yards away when Jim didn't immediately follow, B'layr
turned, tossing his auburn curls in the sun and laughing. "Let me show
you," he teased, "and we will see who is the 'old man'."

"Come back here, Imp!" Jim called, sprinting to catch up with his
mate.

Laughter rang in the forest as B'layr took off toward the bonfire, Jim
in hot pursuit close behind.

Admiring the lithe form of his lover and soulmate as he ran, Jim
reflected that they did, indeed, have much to celebrate, and he
intended to enjoy it all.


*Epilogue:*

The soft clatter of keys tapping was the only sound in the quiet of
the cabin.

"They say the first fifty years are the hardest, but my second fifty
have seen a world of change for our People. We have journeyed from a
past lost to the darkness of time into the light of the twenty-first
century. Traditions which bound us have been updated and new
traditions instituted to make the lives of our People better. Our
bloodlines have been strengthened and the Sentry genes returned to us
through J'anin. The Old Magic has been rediscovered and relearned; a
legacy of the Ancients passed to the New World.

"The miracle of birth has strengthened the Tribes, giving us numbers
that ensure our survival into this new millennium; the most recent
miracle being the birth of K'tiri's twin boys, L'tem and L'tec. We
have raised our young, rejoicing in their new lives, and we have
buried loved ones: children, spouses, siblings, and friends. We have
come through the sadness of their loss stronger for having known them
and loved them.

"The journey has not yet ended; it has only truly begun. There will be
many more births to celebrate, many more lives to commemorate, many
travels yet to be taken, and many adventures to be enjoyed. But for
now, I wish only the quiet of the forest and the love of my family.
And so, my diary, this is to be my final entry for now. Rest assured
that when the time comes, I will be here to tell the tale. This is not
good-bye, only farewell until the next time we meet. And so...
farewell, my friends. Fare well."

B'layr jumped when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Turning his
head to look up and behind him, he was confronted with the wide grin
of his soulmate.

"Startled you, did I?" Jim chuckled. "What are you up to?"

B'layr closed out his word processor and powered down the laptop.
"Just adding an entry to my diary. What are you doing home in the
middle of the afternoon?"

"I finished my patrol and figured that with everyone over admiring
K'tiri's new twins and T'erin watching T'lan and K'sali, that I could
talk you into making good on your promise," Jim replied with a wink.

"My promise?" B'layr stood and turned to study his mate. "What promise
was that?"

"Well, I'll admit that a lot has happened in the past couple of weeks,
but I strongly recall you promising to make me feel better," said Jim,
putting on his best pout. "I haven't felt really *good* in a long
time, you know? And we're alone..."

B'layr's eyes glittered with mischief. "That we are," he said nodding
as he raced his soulmate to their bed, shedding his clothes as he
went. "That we are."

Jim followed, quickly stripping and crawling onto the bed, his heavy
cock leaving a wet trail of pre-come on B'layr's belly as he bent to
give his lover a kiss.

+++++

Soft moans and cries of delight alternated on the gentle breeze
outside the cabin as a canary came to rest on the eaves, warbling his
sweet song of love.

THE END