Gargana tiptoes through the villages. The villagers look at her in shock, and many of the mothers hurriedly gather their children and bring them to the closest house for protection. Gargana’s absence has allowed for some imaginative rumors, not all of which are flattering—not many of which are flattering. Gargana walks closely behind Gargan with one hand clasping his shirt and the other holding her skirts together so none of the little people can crawl up them.
Once they have passed the villages, Gargana loosens her grip on Gargan’s shirt but continues to hold her skirt together as she watches for any sudden movement below her. She takes a quick look at Gargan’s hand to see how Edna is doing and finds that Edna and Cellu have grown, and Gargan’s arms are tucked into his stomach to hold their weight.
“What’s…? They…?” Gargana says.
“I ought to put Cellu down and let him catch up with us. It’ll be no time now.” Gargan says. He places Cellu on the ground and the centaur is immediately off into a gallop. Edna and Cellu grow now, at a rapid pace, and soon Gargan can put Edna down and let her walk on her own. The unbelieving giant has not moved since trying to formulate her shock into a question. Gargan continues to walk but slows his pace. When Gargana finds the voice that has been hovering thickly in her chest, she yells, “Gargan, wait!”
“What’s the matter, dear,” he asks as he turns to her.
“You, you, they, the’ve –”
“They’ve grown?”
“Yes!”
“Are you really surprised? You really think I’ve been lying to you?” Gargan asks, walking back to his wife and tousling her hair.
“But I…” Gargana starts to say as she knocks Gargan’s hand away. She does not finish her sentence. Instead, she pushes Gargan’s shoulder as she walks past him, towards Edna, and observes Edna’s arm when she gets to her. She is startled when she sees Edna up close at a similar height. Edna is frail; her bare arm is shriveled and pale. Gargana has never seen such a pitiful creature. Even Gargan and Cellu do not remember Edna looking so worn.
In response to the pitying eyes, Edna says, “What? I’m old! This is what becomes of all humans. If you’re gonna pity me, pity us all.” She turns towards the yellow trees and continues to walk. Gargana quickly catches up with Edna, determined to check that Edna—and Edna’s arm—is ok.
“Pixie had mentioned a place where we might find a ride,” Edna says as she stops walking and succumbs to Gargana’s inspection. “She gave me some gold coins to pay for it.”
“It’s not far from here. That’s where I’d planned to take you,” Gargan says.
“I’d planned to take her before we met you,” Cellu snaps.
“Jeepers, Cellu,” Edna says, while Gargana fiddles with the material that is wrapped around the wound. “That’s where I was headed before I met either of you. I knew that following these yellow trees would take me there. No need to get your knickers all twisted.”
Gargana has pulled out an extra under shirt of Gargan’s from the bag she has packed and helps Edna out of her soiled blouse and into the clean shirt. The shirt is quite loose, but Edna does not mind. It is nice and airy, and she soon forgets about it entirely. Gargana then takes out some gauze, a canteen of water, a rag, and some strips of material, and cleans off the juice and blood, and all extraneous particles that are near the wound. She then re-bandages the wound. Edna and Gargan have the same smile, and the smile comes from the same thought, a thought they each have when they notice that Gargana is equipped to care for a much larger arm than the one she cared for at the cottage. Gargana does not seem to notice them noticing that she has come prepared for a larger Edna. When she is satisfied with her work, she gives Edna a surprising slap on the rear.
“Looks good for now,” Gargana says, with a smirk that indicates that she notices things, too, “let’s get going.”
Through the forest, Edna trudges along with her companions. Over the course of a mile the forest begins to thicken with wildlife. Animals resembling fat badgers in shape, and elephants in color and texture, waddle past the group constantly, and flying dragons swarm around them like gnats around a pond, before plucking leaves from the trees and flying away from the forest to build nests on the open ground. It is amazing how differently animals live their lives when there is neither predator nor prey.
After walking the first mile Edna thinks that if they do not come to the carriages soon, she will not go on any farther. She will just lay down, wherever they are, and refuse to ever get up, ever again. Words begin to go through her head like a mantra, ever ever again, ever ever again. She steps to the rhythm of her new mantra. Ever-step, ever-step, again—one large step. Ever-step, ever-step, again! —one large step. The words in her head became louder and faster with each step, until they become audible. Her three friends observe her with curiosity. Head down, determined steps, thrusting cane, “ever”-step, “ever”-step, “again!” One large step. Gargan and Gargana join in, though they do not know what the words are referring to. There are two loud booming voices and one frail pitch. “Ever”-step, “ever”-step, “again!” One large step. “Ever”-step, “ever”-step, “again!” One large step. Cellu does not chant along with them, but his four legs cannot help but fall into rhythm. They continue on like this until Gargana spots a house up the road that has horses lounging about on the porch, and some feeding in the grassy yard that surrounds the house.”
“Look, I believe that’s what we’re looking for,” Gargana says.
Gargan looks down the path to the little house. “You’re right, love, that’s it.” As they get closer, Edna notices that they are not ordinary horses.
“Unicorns!” She says. “Oh we can’t make unicorns cart us around, that just seems wrong.”
“Why?” Gargan asks, “it’s their business.”
“But they’re unicorns.”
Gargan looks at Edna peculiarly. “Unicorns with good business sense.”
Edna thinks of all the images she has seen of unicorns. They are so magical, so untouchable. “I guess it’s the way that unicorns are portrayed. I can’t imagine them harnessed to a cart like ordinary horses.”
Gargan chuckles, “Well, to us they’re ordinary unicorns.”
When they get to the house, the unicorns all lift their heads. The ones in the field come towards their visitors, but the ones on the porch stay lying on their bellies letting their heads back down after having one long curious look. They are taking a break. Edna narrows her eyes, ready to give a good stern look to whoever lives in the house and uses unicorns as laborers. Nobody comes out.
“You guys here for a ride?” One of the unicorns ask.
“Yeah,” Gargan says. “We’re headed to the public house; how much is the charge?”
The unicorn looks at the four travelers. “You going to be riding?” he asks
Cellu.
“No,” Cellu says, with obvious irritation. He straightens his torso and flexes all the muscles in his upper body simultaneously. The unicorn takes no notice, “so two giants and a…” He looks at Edna, questioningly.
“A human, a really old human.”
“And a human, two giants and a really old human. That’ll be five gold coins.”
Edna begins to pull coins from her pocket, but Gargan motions that he will pay for the ride.
Two unicorns go into the barn behind the house. When they come out, they are saddled to a cart which rests on two large wheels. The seat in the cart looks comfortable and roomy. It reminds Edna of a large couch she used to own. Her body immediately yearns to be in it, molded to the contours of the seat’s cushions. Oh, once I sit in that, I’m never gonna want to get back up again.
Edna is right. She sinks right into the cushions and is near tears at the thought of getting back out. Gargana sits next to Edna’s wounded arm to make sure nothing jostles it. She puts a cushion on her lap, then gently lifts Edna’s arm onto the cushion. It is now at an elevation higher than Edna’s heart.
“Where’s the driver?” Edna asks.
“The who?” Gargan says.
“The person who’ll be driving us.”
All three of Edna’s friends look at her, confused. Both unicorns pretend not to hear Edna’s question, but all four ears twitch.
“They’re right in front of us, Edna,” Gargan says.
Edna looks at the unicorns. Oh, Of course, she thinks, this is their business. She does not respond to the three who look at her like a confused old woman. With hot cheeks she says,“what are we waiting for?”
The first unicorn turns his head to the side and says, “just give us the word and we’re off.”
“Ok, the word,” Edna says, and the unicorns are off.
The unicorns are fast and Cellu has a tough time keeping up. Edna watches them in awe. They are majestic, she thinks. Their bodies are a pinkish tan and the horns on their heads are like pearls that have been chiseled into long twirling peaks. Their heads face the ground as though they use their horns to pierce the air to pass through.
Edna looks behind to see how Cellu is doing. He is far back, losing speed. “Poor Cellu. Maybe we should rest for a while so he can catch his breath.” Edna does not want to stop entirely for Cellu’s sake. She wants to extend her time on the soft cushions as long as possible.
“He’ll be fine,” Gargan says. “He doesn’t need to run so fast; it’s not a race.”
“How far do we have to go?”
“Not far, we’ve probably already gone halfway.”
“Oh,” Edna says with a fading smile.
She sits back and wishes for the ride to never end; but it does, about half an hour later. The coach pulls up in front of a saloon-style building that has four swinging doors; a pair that are about eight feet high and four feet wide and a pair that are about two feet high and one foot wide. Not much is around the saloon, other than hills a short distance away. There are roads that come from various directions, all like the one they are on; orange-brown with dusty signs of traffic. The stretch of land they are on could be found in almost any country on earth, Edna thinks, remembering pictures from National Geographic. Edna has always been eager to consume any media source that gives her understanding of places she hasn’t experienced and is too frightened to try.
The saloon has light inside and many shadows cross in front of the windows. Both the large saloon doors and small ones swing open abruptly. A tiny waif of a creature, not even two feet tall, comes walking out of the large doors, arms rigid and pumping at its side. Out of the small doors, a hairy man with nubs sticking out from his head comes crawling out. He is too big for the doors. When he is fully out and standing, Edna realizes that his legs are goat legs.
“Hey,” she says, “that’s a, um, that’s a,” she snaps her fingers, as though a name will come with a snap.
“A satyr.” Gargan says.
“Yes, that’s it. Well, I don’t think I knew that. What’s that other creature next to it? An elf?”
“A nymph,” Gargan says. He squints his eyes, staring hard at the nymph. “A wood nymph, I believe. It’s hard to tell them apart from the desert nymphs.”
Laughter bursts from the saloon. The nymph and the satyr are now arm-in-arm—which means that the nymph is dangling above the ground, and they head down the road together.
“Goofs,” Gargan says, laughing, “I’m sure we missed quite a show.”
Edna looks past the swinging doors to a very hairy and very familiar head. “Twynne!” she yells. She had not realized how much she missed that hairy little troll. When he sees Edna the corners of his beard crawl up each side of his face, and he jumps up and begins walking towards them. Edna looks for Pixie but does not see her. Twynne is at the cart, about to jump up and squeeze between Edna and Gargana, and Edna flinches at the thought of Twynne bumping into her arm.
“Careful, Twynne,” Pixie says from the other side of the cart, “it looks like Edna’s arm is wounded.”
“My word.” Edna says, startled to see Pixie standing so close to the cart. “When did you come out? I was watching for you.”
Pixie looks down the path from which the carriage had come. “It’s going to be awhile until Cellu catches up, eh?”
Edna and Gargana’s mouths drop open. “What, how did you, how do you know about Cellu?” Edna asks. Pixie smiles mischievously just as Gargan’s eyes widen with understanding.
“Of course,” he says. “You’ve probably been following us this entire time. Fairies are masters of invisibility.”
“We’ll, not the entire time,” Pixie says, “you lost me when you entered giant country. I couldn’t keep up, so I stayed where I was until you came back.”
“But how did you follow us here?” Gargan says. “You can’t possibly be able to run as fast as these unicorns.”
“I held tight to the bottom of the cart and watched Cellu struggle to keep up, poor tired guy.”
One of the unicorns turns his head to the side. “That’ll be an extra gold coin.”
“But how—so—other than in Gargan’s land, you’ve been with me the whole time?” Edna asks.
“Of course! I wasn’t really going to leave you all by yourself. Especially after what happened at the boat.”
“Why tell me now? Why not let me think you let me be alone, like I asked?” Edna asks, feeling a little irritated but not sure why, or whether irritation is even warranted.
“Do you really want to believe that we’d be okay leaving you all by yourself after the incident at the boat? I was ready to make my presence known the moment I felt you’d be happy to know I was there. But you weren’t alone for very long.”
Edna doesn’t have much of a response. She guesses she would prefer to know that her friends wouldn’t leave her alone if they thought she might truly be in danger. But they acted like there was no danger, she thinks. And I hadn’t worried about it, so why tell me now? She still feels irritated.
Twynne notices Cellu in the distance. “Well, this must be him.”
“Oh, he’s not going to be in a good mood,” Edna says.
“That’s his own fault,” Pixie says. “He could’ve gotten a ride.”
When Cellu finally catches up to the gang, the unicorns have been paid six gold coins, and are finding a place to rest and wait for new customers.
“Could we keep them with us the whole time?” Edna asks.
“We’re not sure what our plans are yet,” Pixie says, “and I don’t think we have enough money for it.”
Cellu is now panting heavily behind them. His hands are on his two front legs and his chest is heaving. Everybody watches him. He waves his hand at them in a shooing motion, unable to catch enough breath to tell them to stop staring. They quickly get the hint, so Edna, Gargan, and Gargana take the time to fill Twynne and Pixie in on all that has happened at the giant’s house, and how Edna had hurt her arm.
“Oh, poor thing!” Pixie says. Twynne shakes his head back and forth, clicking his tongue.
“But you two never told me about the prophecy.” Edna says. “That would’ve been useful information.”
“We would have told you, eventually,” Pixie says. “I didn’t want to lay too much on you at first, and I wasn’t sure yet if you were the maiden of the prophecy until the incident at the boat. After that you didn’t seem to want to talk.”
Edna feels foolish and her heart catches on a thought. Had she complained to Cellu about Pixie and Twynne? She tries to remember her first encounter with the centaur. No, Edna thinks, it wasn’t until giant country that I talked about their behavior, and Pixie said she had lost us by that point. Then Edna says, “oh shoot, I might as well ask you guys. Why didn’t you two help me on the boat, when I was struggling not to fall? You saw that I needed help and you were just watching me.” Edna’s voice raises in an accusatory tone as she talks. She suddenly feels vulnerable for asking them this question, and wishes she could take all her words back.
Pixie and Twynne look confused. “We did help you,” Twynne says.
“Edna,” Pixie says, “humans often don’t want help. In our experience they want to do whatever it is they’re doing themselves.”
Edna’s cheeks grow warm. Her friends are simply not used to someone her age. They’re only used to Storia creatures, who don’t seem to get old, and human children. She does not want to think about this anymore. She had been irrational by letting her emotions take over like that; to let them determine what reality is. And she hates it when her emotions get the better of her. She thinks about what they have said, though, and smiles when she thinks of her own children’s selective independence. They wanted to do some things themselves, but never the things that she asked them to do for themselves.
Pixie is relieved to see the smile on Edna’s face. “Are you thirsty, Edna?”
“Oh, a drink would be lovely,” Edna says. “I’d like to see what’s going on inside this place.”
Renee Rushing 
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