No Place Like Home by Linh San Nguyễn

Author:Linh San Nguyễn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises ULC
Published: 2023-09-15T21:43:15+00:00

Ruse’s Hollow

Lan opened her eyes and lay still for several minutes, blinking at the sunlight streaming through the bamboo slats of the roof above her. Something was thumping rhythmically close by. She tried to rise, propping herself up on an elbow, but the simple movement made a wave of dizziness flare up.

“You’re in no state to get up,” said a sharp voice.

Lan started and immediately collapsed again. When she opened her eyes slowly and turned toward the source of the sound, she saw one of the flowery women from the previous night sitting on a large log crushing something with a stone mortar and pestle like Lan’s mother used to do for fancy meals before Tết. The thought made her hungry for the extravagant meals they cooked for Lunar New Year: crispy nem, xôi gấc—red sticky rice—and of course bánh chưng and bánh giầy, the legendary savory cakes that symbolized the earth and sky.

The lady was dressed in plain brown, her plantlike hair twisted into a giant bun that would’ve impressed Annabelle. Lan pushed herself up to a sitting position, noticing then that she was covered in furs. She shrugged them off.

“You’re Kestrel, right?” said Lan, struggling to remember.

“Yes. You called me an elf.”

“Oh—um, right, sorry about that.”

Lan glanced around, and her eyes fell on the figures of her friends beside her. Annabelle looked so worn and still in her sleep. It made Lan uncomfortable. The white bandages wrapped around Marlow’s side ruined any illusion of peace. She reached out and touched them. Both were freezing, despite the humid heat in the clearing.

“They look awful.”

“They’ll live,” said Kestrel. “Her fever just broke. She should wake soon.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Long enough. I’ll whip up another batch of that sleeping potion today.”

“What are you making now?”

“Something for the girl’s head.”

“I can help if you show me.”

Kestrel laughed in answer. Her voice had a strange accent to it, different from Marlow’s or Annabelle’s. The words wove together like a lullaby.

“I mean it,” said Lan, feeling slightly put off.

“I believe you, but it’s taken us centuries to master these remedies.”

“If you’re not an elf, then what are you?”

“Aren’t elves those little helper critters in woodworking shops?” said Kestrel with a sniff. “Or does it mean something different wherever you’re from?”

“Well, I guess there are different kinds,” admitted Lan. “Some of them can be quite tall... I wouldn’t say I’m an elf expert.”

“We are tree nymphs, silly. There is a nymph for every tree, every stream. Ruse has lived in this Hollow for ages, and Phoenix and I have shared it with him. It has been our home since he protected us as saplings fifty years back.”

She pointed to the border of the clearing, where the two towering red-flowered trees grew, bent in a close embrace.

“That’s you?” said Lan in awe. “You remind me of the trees by the lake in the city where I grew up, but they’re a long way from here.”

“A long way, you say? This forest is one of the oldest ones to thrive in any world.

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