Tavia followed and once through the entrance, she was standing at the beginning of a long, rail-less bridge wide enough for three people to pass each other easily suspended probably a hundred feet over a sea of leafy branches. Normally, this wouldn�t have bothered the fire-mage, after all, she could fly, but as she looked downward, she realized that if she did fall then the branches below would surely catch and tear at the delicate skin of her wings, rendering them useless as she plummeted to her death. But Tansis and Minerva were striding confidently on ahead, oblivious to the danger below, and Tavia�s pride wouldn�t allow her to stand any longer and embarrass herself. So, taking a deep breath, she took slow, cautious steps across the bridge.
On the other side, Tavia turned to the Lady of the Trees, �Lady,� she asked, �why aren�t there any railings on that bridge? What if a little child fell off?�
�The trees would catch and hold the child until someone could come and pull them back up. The trees protect us and will keep us from harm if they can.� Minerva smiled, giving Tavia a sly look, �And if you fell, then we would ask the trees to catch you, as well. You are in no danger when you cross our bridges.�
Tavia tried to hide her relief but she had the feeling that Minerva caught it anyways.
They moved on, passing over three more bridges and two rooms, all made in the same manner as the Main Hall, albeit much smaller, until they came to their destination. It was probably the only stone building in the whole of Sinistira, Tavia suspected, with its dusky colored walls rising upwards to form a ventilation hole at the top. The structure was simple, like a cylinder with a cone on top, but practical and as the trio approached the entranceway, Tavia could see that inside was a cook�s fantasy. Three huge stone fireplaces stood etched into the walls, fires roaring merrily within. Over one was a large metal pot, while over the other two spits sat with meat of various size and shape on them. In the middle was a large stone table, filled to brimming with fruits and vegetable in different stages of chopping, and one enormous wooden bowl, half full with what looked like a salad.
An elf, slightly plump but still extremely thin, Tavia supposed that he was considered fat for an elf, rushed around the kitchen, looking extremely harried. Wisps of silver hair, a little more silver than was normal, flew from under a cloth tied around his forehead as if trying to escape his head. He seemed to be trying to do everything at once, turning spits, tasting stews, cutting vegetables, baking bread, and almost succeeding.
�Maybe we should come back some other time. He looks really busy.� Tavia whispered to Minerva, trying not to catch the cook�s attention.
But Minerva had no such qualms. She laughed out loud saying, �Of course he is, it�s Planting Day and a feast to feed the whole Elven population needs to be ready by midnight. But it�s his own fault, if he had taken some help from the younger elves like I suggested, he wouldn�t be having nearly as hard a time.�
This brought the Elven cook to a standstill, a rolling pin in one hand, upraised in surprise, and a carving knife in the other. He bowed low to the Lady and then replied in a gruff tone, �Would you have me let some little tree monkeys run all over my kitchen and ruin the feast altogether? They can stay swinging from the treetops and while I make my masterpieces uninhibited by silly younglings.�
Tansis looked a little hurt at being called a tree monkey, but both Minerva and Tavia had to stifle their laughter. The Lady was still trying to contain herself as she said, �Salak, I think you hurt Tansis�s feelings. He�s still not considered quite an adult yet, you know.�
�Bah!� Salak waved his rolling pin about dangerously, �He knows that he�s old enough to have out grown the tree monkey stage. I mean, he�s already going on patrols; that certainly counts for something. But anyways, what can I do for you, my Lady?�
�We have a special guest for the Planting. This girl beside me is a fire-mage and has come from Shavasta on her way to the temple of Simione. However, she�s had a hard flight here and needs something to eat if there�s anything to spare.� A slight smile still played on the Elven leader�s lips.
�A fire-mage? Here? I haven�t seen any of their kind in years.� Salak reflected, setting down his rolling pin and knife to take Tavia by the elbow, �Come in and tell me what you would like.�
Tavia stared around the room as she was led inside. The air shimmered with heat and felt like a heavy woolen blanket against her skin. Delicious smells drifted around the room and tantalized her nose. The familiar presence of the fires was comforting.
�Whatever you have already cooked is fine.� She said politely.
To her surprise, Salak burst into laughter, a gruff sound as unlike Minerva�s as a hammer against an anvil is to birdsong. �I�m cooking every possible food in this kitchen, fire-girl, so you can have anything you want.�
Tavia looked around the stone room. Suddenly, the stew bubbled over the edge of the pot that held it above the fire, causing the flames beneath it to sputter and spark. �Some stew would be nice, thank you.� She replied eventually, smiling.
�Your wish is mine.� Salak moved to a cupboard hung on the far wall of the room and took out a wooden bowl, exactly like the one currently residing on the table except much smaller, �Did you know that your ancestors built this kitchen for us, fire-child?� Tavia shook her head, surprised. �Well, they did and it was an ingenious solution to a troubling problem. We didn�t know how we were supposed to cook anything up here without the fires spreading to the trees and burning them to dust. Stone was the obvious solution to that, of course, but how to make it so that the trees could support it up here was another complication. One of your kind came up with the answer of making the stone walls hollow so that they were light enough to stay up here, but sturdy enough to contain the fire. It took four of the fire-mages to build this and a good job they did, too.� Salak smiled, �So you see, without your people we elves would be starving to death by now.�
Tavia smiled back at the cook, �Did you see the building?�
�Yes, but I was younger back then, only about 500 years old. Not quite a tree monkey but close enough.� Tavia laughed as Salak handed her the bowl full of stew. He continued, turning instead to address Minerva, �Where�s Orlan, wasn�t he with your patrol?�
�Yes, but he said that the trees on the south end of the forest had sensed and intruder and he was going to take care of it.� Minerva replied.
�But wouldn�t the tree have told you of the danger as well?�
�I did get a sense of some danger, but it�s something that I�ve been sensing for a while now. I think it�s just the proximity of the human towns, they�re beginning to encroach on our territory and I�m too sensitive for my own good.� The Lady laughed but it sounded more strained than before.
�You�re right Lady, but I just get the feeling that that elf is hiding something from us and I�d like to know what it is.�
�Orlan would never betray us; he�s an Elf and my advisor.� Minerva replied, her brow knitting into a frown.
�I know that, but he�s just been acting secretive lately, m�Lady.� Salak said and then noticed that her frown deepened, �But it might be nothing, nothing at all. I�m getting on in years and I�m probably losing my wits. Pay me no mind.� The cook offered his leader a smile, which Minerva returned even though it didn�t reach her troubled eyes.
�Come on, Tavia, let�s go before your stew gets cold.� Minerva said after a pause, �Thank you for your help, Salak.�
�It was my pleasure.�