When they entered the Forest of the Suicides, the leader came.
She came flying, in a rush of wind and wings, and for a moment Elliot thought Luke might run. Elliot went around Serene, so that Serene and he were flanking Luke, so they were on either side, ready to support him. Elliot saw the flash of Luke’s blue eyes, registering his presence, and then saw him look at Serene. Luke lifted his chin.
The leader of the harpies was beautiful and bizarre, her clothes bones, her body a lion’s, an eagle’s, a woman’s, and yet wholly her own. She had braids and an air of natural authority that reminded Elliot of his commander, and she had eyes only for Luke. Her eyes were blue, as well.
“I am Celaeno, the leader of this flock,” she said.
Luke said, his voice polite but challenging, hesitant but unafraid, and sure of who he was in the face of any claims otherwise: “I’m . . . I’m Luke Sunborn.”
Sunborn must be a name she knew: a name the humans must have shouted on that long-ago battlefield beyond the trees. Maybe they should have advised Luke not to say his surname. Maybe he would not have listened, if they had.
Celaeno hesitated. Then she bid Luke, and all who had come with Luke, welcome.
It should have been easy. After a round of introductions the harpies had made them welcome and left them to eat and rest, the tents had been set up, and all that was left to do that evening was make Luke happy.
Elliot went to the cooking fires and fetched Dale over to Luke’s side. Then Elliot made a massive, heroic sacrifice and initiated a conversation about Trigon. Luke was glowing. Dale looked so happy, it was almost sad.
Elliot concentrated on not bleeding out of the ears with boredom. He waited, like a matchmaking panther, to pounce on the precise right moment, and then excused himself. He invited Serene to excuse herself, too.
“I’m comfortable here,” said Serene.
It was possible Elliot should have explained his scheme to Serene before now. Still, Serene loved Luke and was occasionally capable of tact: surely she would be driven off by Dale and Luke’s undeniable chemistry.
Elliot had been gone for approximately two minutes, lurking by the cooking fires and making conversation with Delia Winterchild, when Dale fled.
“Excuse me,” Elliot said. “I see an emotional situation going wildly awry.”
“Yeah,” said Delia. “That’s life.”
She looked amused. She had never liked Luke, Elliot knew, not since the wars that had killed her twin and made Luke a hero. Elliot had always understood that, but Darius’s death had not been Luke’s fault. He didn’t want her kicking Luke when he was down.
He did not have time to argue with her right now, because he had to go back and scold Luke for letting Dale get away. Elliot could not, he felt strongly, help those who would not help themselves to some sweet sweet loving.
Telling Luke off did not go well.
“Excuse me if I’m a little hesitant when I know I can’t even take off my shirt in front of somebody,” Luke snarled. “Because I’m turning into a monster!”
Elliot was so shocked by this view of what was going on that he went silent. There was nothing he could say to Luke to make this better, he thought. Luke did not care what Elliot’s opinion of him was. Elliot had to insure that Dale proved to Luke that Dale did not think of him that way: that Dale still wanted Luke, more than anyone else.
That night, in their tent, Elliot said anxiously: “But you did have fun, talking to Dale?”
If Luke had not had fun, Elliot was out of ideas. Luke had seemed so pleased, just to be having the conversation. Elliot did not know where it had all gone wrong.
“Yeah, it was nice when we were all talking. But then you left for no reason,” Luke said accusingly. “And Dale ran away.”
“Okay, I get it,” said Elliot. “It’s all my fault.”
The next day, Luke had a private meeting with Celaeno, and that meant Elliot had free time to make friends with several very nice harpies, then cut Dale off from the rest of the troops and tell him what he thought about that running-away business.
He was very unhappy that he had to leave the harpies, since several of them seemed startled and delighted by his inquiries about their customs. He might have been slightly sharp with Dale.
“It got very awkward after you left,” Dale mumbled.
“I’m going to have to leave at some point when you get together,” Elliot said. “Unless you and Luke have some very specific exhibitionist fetishes, which I would not judge you for, but I have known Luke a long time and I find the idea vanishingly unlikely. You have to pull yourself together. You can’t go running off like that again. You have to think of other topics which will engage Luke,” Elliot instructed. “I think it would be nice if you played a pick-up game of some sort. Also maybe a romantic picnic in the Forest of the Suicides. I don’t think the name should put you off. Besides, the harpies have a different name for it. I don’t know what it means yet, but the sound is very pretty. You should ask one of them how to say it. And you should try to strike up a conversation with Celaeno. You do realize she is related to Luke, right?”
Dale looked badly startled.
Elliot nodded. “She’s one of his biological father’s nestmates. Though harpies don’t have words like ‘aunt.’ That does mean, however, that Luke is technically of high rank among the harpies, which is cool, don’t you think?” He gave Dale an expectant look. “What a catch.”
“Elliot!” Dale screamed. “Stop!”
“What?” Elliot asked defensively. “I’m just making a scheme for your future happiness. You don’t want to be happy in the future? What’s your objection to the future? What’s your objection to happiness?”
“I don’t have an objection to happiness,” Dale said. “It’s just—Luke.”
“You have an objection to Luke?” Elliot snapped. “What possible objection could there be to Luke? He’s smart—and he’s champion—and he’s radiantly good-looking—”
“He’s great,” said Dale.
Elliot frowned. “Well, I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
Dale gave Elliot a look that said he was surrendering when Elliot was not aware they were fighting a battle. Many people seemed to approach conversations with Elliot this way, so he shrugged it off and gestured for Dale to speak.
“He’s just a little—”
“Constantly eternally insistently in your face twenty-four seven?” Elliot cut in sympathetically.
“Distant?” said Dale.
“Well, obviously we’re having a slightly different Luke experience,” said Elliot. He folded his arms and regarded Dale, who seemed dispirited. It could simply be an effect of prolonged conversation with Elliot, but in case it was not, Elliot added encouragingly: “Luke is shy! That’s the problem. He’s shy because he likes you so much. It’s beautiful if you think about it. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”
He regarded Dale sternly. Dale nodded.