(year 11, early Deathsleep season)
No-Berries carried the bulk of his and his mother's gear as he followed his mother and newfound cousin up a gentle slope inside the huge river-straddling Mother Tree to the hollows they would share. His mother carried her pack on one arm; she needed the other to gesture as she talked animatedly to Sweetwind. "... but everyone always knew he'd come to an end like that. Tragic, some say, but what else can you expect? He knew the dangers... and Cleverfoot! Did you know he Recognized Rain?"
"Of course, Aunt, that was while I was still there!" protested Sweetwind, entering the hollow and stepping aside to let her aunt and cousin enter as well. "And how is their little Afraid-of-the-Dark?"
"He's called Dawngreeter now, and he's so big and fine, you wouldn't know him. And he's Recognized too, I'm sure you don't know her..."
No-Berries set down their gear and listened to his mother prattle on. Two eights-of-eights of turns of separation yielded a lot of news to catch up on. And the long-delayed reunion had given his mother more strength than she'd had for a turn. He was happy at how seeing Sweetwind had put the light back in her eyes.
He prowled around the hollow a little; it looked comfortable. Vinetreasure continued talking as she began to unpack their belongings. The flowers in the window-garden caught No-Berries' eye, and when he went over to inspect them, the scene outside intrigued him even more. A group of elf-children were playing some kind of tag game with long sticks. He watched with a grin until the urge to join them became too strong to resist. Judging by the age of the "news" that was currently going by, he had quite a bit of time to play before his mother could bring Sweetwind fully up-to-date. He slipped out of the chamber without either female noticing.
Getting out of the Tree was a little more difficult than he had guessed. The corridors twisted like a prairie-digger's warren and No-Berries found himself going uphill instead of down. He turned into a downward sloping passage, but when he reached the bottom there was still no sign of a way out. A little light gleamed through a doorway so he stuck his head in. The light was coming from a window in what was obviously someone's living quarters -- still no way out. He was about to continue on the way he had been headed when a familiar voice called, "Hey!"
He stuck his head back in the doorway. Silverfox stood there, smiling at him. "You seem to have a way of finding me," she chuckled. "Come in, and meet my lifemates!"
No-Berries stepped inside and was introduced to the hoodwinked Fisher, who sat on some furs in the center of the hollow. While they were exchanging pleasantries, a curly-haired elf woman limped in from another chamber. She walked as though her right leg were splinted straight.
"And this is Spice. Spice, meet No-Berries, he's Sweetwind's cousin I was telling you about!"
"Oh. Nice to meet you," the green-tunicked elf mumbled unenthusiastically, turning on her heel and retreating back to the other chamber as if she'd just forgotten something.
Silverfox sighed. "Well, my friend, shall we go check on that blackneck hide of yours? Torch ought to have it off the carcass by now."
"If you can show me how to get out of this worm-tunneled tree, I'll follow you anywhere!" proclaimed the new arrival. "I feel like I've been chasing my tail in the dark!" The silver-curled elf grasped his hand and led him out the chamber doorway. No-Berries had never felt more foolish in his life than when, just a few steps further along the way he'd been heading, the corridor turned sharply to one side and opened out onto the clearing. Seeing his astonishment and embarrassment, Silverfox had to laugh. What a beautiful laugh she's got, thought No-Berries as he joined in.
"We have to have ground-level rooms, without any steps, because of Spice's leg," explained the forest elf as they began walking together. "And the closer to an exit, the better, in case we have to evacuate quickly."
"I see. So what was that all about," inquired the plains elf cautiously, "when we were introduced? She looked pretty nimble right then, trying to get away from me!"
Silverfox sighed again. "She's not like that, usually, really." She fumbled for words. "She shouldn't treat you like that, just because you're her cousin, but you see, Spice and Sweetwind don't get along very well." 'Fox rolled her eyes. "They don't get along at all, in fact. When they're in the kitchen together it's like two trolls in a one-troll mining pit."
"Why is that?" asked No-Berries curiously (wondering, by the way, what a mining pit was, and how trolls might act in one. Not too well, apparently.)
"I can't explain it!" burst 'Fox. "I know Spice, I know she's not like that. I don't know Sweetwind very well, but she doesn't seem the type to hold a grudge either. I don't know what's poisoned their minds against each other. I guess I can see how it started..." she concluded reluctantly.
"Oh? Tell me," replied her companion.
"Well... it's different here in the Holt, there's a lot more freedom here, and a certain amount of sharing is taken for granted... but where we come from, lifemates look only to each other."
"So I have to give up every hope of a joining with you?" replied the young male wistfully. Silverfox nodded, and to cover his real disappointment, No-Berries exaggerated his mock-disappointment until his face was screwed up with anguish. He wailed up to the Tree's branches, "Oh, High Ones! There is no balm for this wounded heart!" Silverfox giggled like a flirting girl, then with a fresh sigh she returned to her story.
"So, when we first arrived at Eight-of-Dreams, three turns and two seasons ago, there was a celebration in our honor. Sweetwind gave us a welcome-basket of food, and she tried to flirt with the three of us. She wasn't pushy or anything, just being friendly, but Spice... let's just say that Spice is very protective of our bond, and she overreacted. Sweetwind left, feeling hurt and rejected, I believe. I had words with Spice later that night and told her that she should try to make amends. She was planning to do so when she took the basket back, but somehow things just got worse. I never got the story straight from her, which is unusual. Normally she can't keep a secret at all."
"Interesting," remarked No-Berries, clambering over a tree root as they approached Torch. "Did you ask her about it straight out?"
"Yes, and she was evasive. But tonight I'll have a good talk with her about you. Whatever happened between them shouldn't come between her and you."
"Thanks," replied the copper-skinned elf, puzzling over what could have happened. What deep, dark, secrets did his cousin's past hide? He had to find out!
After they'd looked in on Torch and how he was getting on with scraping the hide (and after No-Berries had explained to the puzzled tanner why there were so many spear holes in it, showing him his unusual weapon), Silverfox led the newcomer back to Sweetwind's hollow. He made sure to note the way this time.
Sweetwind and Vinetreasure were apparently finished discussing family news, at least for the time being. No-Berries found the long-lost plains elf and his mother sitting at the firepit. His cousin was explaining about the heating system used in the Tree as she demonstrated how a metal heating bowl would fit into the firepit.
"It gets that cold around here!?" burst No-Berries.
"Yes, it even snows." Forestalling the inevitable question, Sweetwind sent an image of the Holt in deep winter, the limbs of the Mother Tree heaped with snow and elves bundled up so you could hardly see their skin. Not wanting to put them off, she included an image of the serene beauty of the forest shrouded in white, and the fun of an all-Holt snowball fight. No-Berries responded so positively to this last image that she was glad she included it. She liked her newfound cousin immensely already; he seemed to be a playful spirit.
"Just as well we couldn't bring that blackneck down with one shot, eh, mother?" No-Berries said teasingly. "Sounds like a mere tent wouldn't keep us warm in these parts." He stood up and stretched; at full stretch, his fingertips brushed the chamber's ceiling. He felt his skin being pinched taut where dried bits of the buck's blood still clung to him. He knew there was still blood on his clothes too, and he was suddenly eager to be clean. "Cousin Sweetwind, where can we go to take a bath?"
"I'll take you there now, if you like," the archer replied, rising. Vinetreasure got up too, gathering her brushes. Sweetwind led them out of the Tree, past the practice range, with Stifler and Cloudfront following them, to an area shaded by pine trees. A level surface about three elf-lengths wide, circular in shape, had been raked clean of pine needles. The ground was hard and dry and coated with fine, powdery dust. "This is the only place I've found around here where you can get a decent dust bath," said Sweetwind. Stifler had already begun rolling in the circle. The cousins began taking off their clothes and Sweetwind continued, almost apologetically, "I don't come here very often myself, actually, I've gotten in the habit of bathing in the Waterfall like the others."
No-Berries almost dove into the circle, sending a great cloud of dust into the air. He rolled luxuriously and Sweetwind watched him for a moment, his movements almost exactly paralleling Stifler's. It was good to have family again, someone who she could share her culture and customs with. 'Treasure sat by the side of the circle and applied a brush to the tangled mess of her hair while Sweetwind joined No-Berries in rolling and twisting in the dust. Then the cousins groomed each other just as Sweetwind used to do with her brother, Shatterflint. While Sweetwind did his back, No-Berries looked up at his mother. She was still brushing, sitting quietly without being withdrawn. She looked as calm and benevolent as a feline mother supervising her cubs at play. At last, some measure of the pain seemed gone from her eyes. Perhaps she would start to heal in earnest now.
After he had finished doing Sweetwind's back, No-Berries without warning began tickling her ribs. She shrieked with laughter and retaliated, and in a flurry of dust a ticklefight ensued. When the sides of each elf ached from laughter, they called a truce. Finally, Stifler lay relaxing (with Cloudfront batting at his tail), as Vinetreasure bathed and the cousins began to clean their clothes. No-Berries asked questions about the other inhabitants of the Holt using the Waterfall to bathe, which led to questions about Nightfire's bearfat cleaning bars, which led to further questions about candle-making and wine-brewing which Sweetwind couldn't answer very well. "You'll have to ask the people who do those things," she finally said.
"That will keep me busy for a while," he replied. There seemed be plenty of things to learn about in this Holt, his newfound cousin not the least of them.
On her first full day in Eight-of-Dreams Holt, after a busy morning, Vinetreasure was tired of whirlwind tours and introductions so she decided to thoroughly explore one small part of the Holt. She wound her way back to the Mother Tree's kitchen, determined to see what foodstuffs and seasonings these people used. She took her pack with her.
The kitchen was deserted so she poked around, opening containers and sniffing at jars. It was fun. She gasped when she moved aside a basket and saw a fox napping behind it. But he just looked calmly at her, as if he belonged there, so she let him be.
Finally she sat down and set about peeling the fruit that had been given to her by one of the many elves she'd met that morning. Not too much later, someone else entered the room. 'Treasure glanced up and recognized the buxom elf-woman - she'd been here working in the kitchen when the newcomer had gotten her first quick tour the day before. But they hadn't been introduced. Caught by surprise, all 'Treasure could think to say was, "I saw you in here yesterday."
Spice glared at the woman - that dreadful Sweetwind's aunt. She had promised Silverfox to judge the new arrivals on their own merits, but she saw no need to be overly friendly. "I don't get out much," she replied with a sniff, exaggerating her limp just a tad to drive home the point as she made her way to her own counter space.
But Vinetreasure didn't even see the glare or the upturned nose. "Oh, you poor dear! Here, let me help you!" She rushed over to position a stool for the other elf, and lent her shoulder to supplement the lame elf's cane. "How difficult things must be for you! Tell me, how did your leg come to be injured?"
"A bolt of skyfire hit a tree, and I happened to be in the wrong place," came the reply. Spice kept her voice haughty. No sense in encouraging the woman.
"How terrible. Does it give you much pain?"
"Not really. Well, at times..." Despite herself, Spice warmed to the subject. "Actually, I've noticed that it gives me twinges of pain right here whenever there's going to be rain. I think it's my own form of magic finally coming into its own. My grandsire was a weathershaper, you see, although some in our village claimed it wasn't magic at all, just because he couldn't always do it. But that's ridiculous, when someone's power is still developing you can't expect it to work all the time, can you? Like poor Treesong, sometimes she sits and shapes and sometimes she just sits. Oh, but she made me the most wonderful strawberries yesterday. I'm going to make them into a chutney for Fisher. Have you seen my Fisher? He'd be the handsomest male in the Holt," her voice dropped, "but he was in the accident too. Splinters of the tree struck his face!"
"No!" gasped Vinetreasure.
"Yes! He's blind now, there was nothing the healers could do when we found the Holt, either." 'Treasure clucked with sympathy. "Losing his sight has made his other senses all the more important to him, so I always try to make his meals something special. With the strawberries I'm going to mix dried plums, yellowfruit juice and minced puckernuts."
'Treasure raised her eyebrows. "Tart," she commented. "Serve it over fish?"
"Exactly!" beamed the freckle-faced elf. Why, this woman wasn't so bad after all. Good thing she, Spice, had given her a chance. She decided to introduce herself. "I'm called Spice."
"Ah, then these must be yours," said the copper-skinned elf, indicating several shelves heaped with little jars and baskets of various dried leaves, seeds, and powders. "I was looking through them and I couldn't identify half of them. The seasonings that grow where I come from are quite different."
"Yes, those are my pride and joy," replied Spice. "Garlic and salt and kingsblood and yellowflower seed and bay leaf and parsley and-"
"Whoa, whoa, let's do them one at a time! By the way, I'm called Vinetreasure. Now, what is this one here? It smells delicious!" She held a small decanter under her nose.
"Vinegar! Dreamberry vinegar! I get it from Dreamstealer. Such a good
lad if only he could behave and stop himself from intruding on people's dreams.
Nothing more private than our dreams, is there? That's the best dressing, bar
none, for fresh greens, if you mix it with a little sunflower seed oil and salt
and pepper."
"Oh, I don't know," 'Treasure replied, "I like a good ginger dressing myself."
"Ginger?" asked Spice.
"Ginger root, that is, I don't know if it grows around here. I haven't seen any since I left the plains. It's yellowish. Here, I think I still have a little in my pack." She rummaged around and pulled out an inconspicuous-looking root. Cutting the dried end off first, she shaved a juicy, membrane-thin slice and handed it to Spice. The lame elf sniffed it, then laid it on her tongue.
With a smile she exclaimed, "It's good!" Examining the root, she said, "Let's get the plantshapers to grow us some more from the rest of the root."
"Can they really do that?"
"Absolutely, but first let me show you this salt I got from the trolls. You never saw such pure salt as this..." The rest of the afternoon passed quickly for the two cooks. In the snug kitchen in the roots of the Mother Tree, a friendship began.
Sweetwind dropped by the kitchen towards sundown. Vinetreasure, alone, looked up and smiled. Sweetwind smiled back, glad that her aunt seemed willing to live in the world once more. "How dependable is that little blonde girl?" asked 'Treasure.
"Which one?" asked Sweetwind, sitting down.
"Dream-something's her name, like everyone else around here," replied her aunt. "She offered to bring me some green onions for this relish, but that was before the shadows got so long. I'm about to give up on her."
Before Sweetwind could reply, Dreamlight, Spitfire and Lathebrook scrambled into the kitchen. Dreamlight held a handful of green onions proudly up to the new arrival as the other two hung back a little. "Here's the stuff you asked for, Vinetreasure!" she said bashfully.
The child had been grasping them so tightly that they were all wilted in the center, but nonetheless, Vinetreasure exclaimed in delight as if they were the freshest shoots she had ever seen.
"They're beautiful! Why, thank you, Dream... lit?"
"Dreamlight," the blonde child politely corrected.
'Treasure smiled and, with a wink at Sweetwind, tried again. "Dreamright."
"Light!"emphasized the girl.
"Ohhh..." exclaimed 'Treasure, as though she finally understood. "Gleamlight!" Lathebrook was cracking up; even Spitfire's eyes were glowing and she covered her mouth to stifle her giggles.
"No!" The frustrated elf-child shook her head so hard her ponytails whipped around dangerously. "Dreamlight!"
"Creamwhite?"
"DREAM... LIGHT!"
"Screamfright?"
"No, no, no!" the exasperated child shrieked half in annoyance, half in laughter, stomping her bare feet. Spitfire and Lathebrook were rolling on the floor. Sweetwind couldn't contain her laughter any longer either, and managed to join in, blurting, "Seamtight?"
"Streamflight," suggested 'Treasure.
"Nooooooo," howled Dreamlight. She ran up to 'Treasure and threw her arms around her waist. 'Treasure returned the embrace and chuckled.
"There, there," the dark-haired woman comforted.
"It's Dreamlight," the child repeated when she'd gotten her wind back from laughing and shouting.
"Dreamlight? Why didn't you just say so?" replied 'Treasure. The other two children moaned at that; their bellies were aching too much to laugh.
"Here, Dreamlight," 'Treasure continued, "this is for being a good sport." She handed the blue-eyed girl a piece of honeycomb from her pack. "Now scat so I can finish this dish!" Dreamlight thanked her quickly and as the three elf-cubs tumbled over each other leaving, 'Treasure called after them, "I hope you share that with your friends!"
Vinetreasure returned to the counter and began chopping the onions with Sweetwind's cleaver. "Children are so precious," she remarked. "I've been here in the kitchen since before noon. Everyone's been so nice, and I've learned so much. Here, look at this." She picked up a fried longear leg and handed it to her niece.
"You showed me about boiling yesterday, and today I learned about oil frying. Because the water will only get hotter until it turns into steam clouds, but oil will keep getting hotter and hotter. So when you put food in the hottest oil, the moisture steams away and makes the edges all crispy. Isn't it wonderful?"
"Yes, it's great," replied Sweetwind, astonished at this display of knowledge. She herself had been frying for turns but had never known why or how it worked. "Who told you all that?" She bit into the longear.
"Spice did." Sweetwind gagged on the longear. Sure enough, it bore the distinctive flavoring of something prepared by Spice. She grabbed the ladle from the water bucket and took a long drink.
"Spice was so kind, she let me have all these new seasonings," continued 'Treasure, gesturing at a collection of bindles on the counter, "and she gave us that pot of stew for a welcome."
"Trying to kill you, no doubt," muttered Sweetwind darkly.
"Why, whatever do you mean by that remark?" demanded her aunt.
"It's just... she ruins food, she seasons it to death. Her stew's not fit to eat unless you water it down to broth."
"Come now, every cook has their own way. Didn't your mother ever show you the trick for an over-seasoned stew? Here," she reached under the counter and retrieved a bland, starchy tuber, "you just put in this whiteroot and let it sit overnight. The whiteroot absorbs the extra flavor." She swiftly peeled the tuber and dropped it into the stew pot. Sticking a finger into the stew, she sampled it. Her eyes widened and she grabbed another whiteroot. "Anyway, if what's fine for her is too spicy for you, there are ways to adapt to it."
"She just rubs my fur the wrong way," scowled Sweetwind.
"Really? I spent all afternoon with her and she seemed very pleasant."
"Aunt!" exclaimed the archer. "How can you stand the way she jumps from one subject to the next with no connection? You ask her if there's any bearfat left and then you have to hear all about her sister's mate's bowel habits and the time she spilled the soup with ten eggs in it. Sometimes I'd like to pull the curl right out of her hair!"
'Treasure brushed that off with a shake of her head. "There's no harm in it, niece. Everyone talks a little differently and if you don't like how she does it, that's your problem, not hers."
"It's not all harmless," protested Sweetwind, still trying to get her aunt to see it her way. "When little Lathebrook brought back his first kill, did she praise him? No, she said 'ugh, treewee's hardly fit for the stewpot,' and went on about Fisher's first hunt until we were all sick of the subject. Lathebrook was near tears!"
This revelation caused Vinetreasure to frown, but she turned to Sweetwind, hands on her hips. "Did you correct her? Did you remind her to be more considerate of a child's feelings?"
"No, she won't listen to me."
The blue-green eyes flashed. "Sweetwind, I'm ashamed of you! If you won't try to fix something you've got no right to complain about it. I don't like the attitude you're displaying right now. We're almost of an age now but you're still acting like a spoiled kitten."
Sweetwind, chastised, bent her head and tried to resist the temptation to pout. Fortunately for her dignity, a bunch of noisy, cheerful elves trooped into the kitchen at that moment, and made much over the newcomer. As plans were revealed for a celebration feast that night, Sweetwind slipped unhappily out of the Tree.
The recent Deathsleep equinox celebration had been dampened (literally) by rain, so everyone looked forward to vigorous outdoor activities like dancing at tonight's revel. The centerpiece of the feast was the huge blackneck roast, cooked all day over the firepit and filled with Spice's own brownnut and rice stuffing. Vinetreasure set out the fruity relish she had made, spread over cold pieces of fowl, although other elves protested that it was not customary for the honored elf to contribute anything to their own feast. Dreamstealer broke out his finest batch of wine and offered it to 'Treasure, along with other attentions that she politely, but firmly, rebuffed. Sweetwind had regained her composure and made a short speech to the Holt about her kin and how they'd come to be there. Then Dreamchant formally introduced the newcomers to the Holt, and the feasting and music and dancing began.
Shortly before midnight, Sweetwind was taking a break from dancing, sitting under a tree alone with Stifler, when her cousin came over and joined her. "I'm happy to report," he announced proudly, "that my mother has declared she's worn out and is going to sleep!"
"Oh, no!" replied Sweetwind. "So early in the evening?"
"Oh, yes, and it's a wonderful thing!" exclaimed No-Berries. "She hasn't slept well since Flake-Ears took sick. She drifts off if she rests long enough, but she hasn't felt sleep pull her for longer than I care to remember."
"She did lay awake a long time last night, I noticed." Sweetwind shook her head, remembering. She scratched Stifler, who lay between the two elves, behind the ears. Reflecting on the well-deserved tongue-lashing she'd just received from her aunt, she added, "She seemed just like her old self today, though."
No-Berries ran his fingers through Stifler's fur. "He's a good old 'cat, isn't he? Yes, she's getting better right before our eyes." He looked up at Sweetwind and smiled. "And it's all due to you. Thank you."
She smiled back and hugged him on impulse. "I'm happy to have a family again."
He hugged her back even tighter, then when Stifler snorted a protest at being squashed inbetween them, they broke apart.
"So," the youth said nonchalantly, adjusting his cap, "now that I've got you all alone, just what happened between you and Spice when she gave you back the welcome basket? I'm dying to find out!"
Sweetwind stared at him, slack-jawed. How in the name of all creatures who hunt had he managed to ferret out, in his mere day and a half in the Holt, the single incident in her life that she was currently most ashamed of? "What is it today?" she demanded. "First Vinetreasure, and now you. What do you care what happened between us?"
"Cousin," he said gently, "if you're feuding with someone, and there's good reason for it, then they're my enemy too. I need to know."
"Hmph." She crossed her arms and lowered her head.
He laid a hand on her arm. "Come on. Tell me."
She sighed. "I only asked her if they wanted to bodydance with Torch and me in the mossy grotto when their celebration was over. But the look on her face! You would have thought I'd asked her if her freckles went all the way down! Her face went as stiff as her leg, she turned her back on me. I didn't know what to think.
"Next day, she came up to my hollow and gave me the basket back, filled with stuffed mushrooms. She didn't apologize or anything, just said she'd made them special for me and disappeared. I figured that they were meant as an apology so I took them. Until I tried to eat one! Ugh! I thought they must be poisoned, surely. Why else would someone put in so much seasoning you can't taste anything else? I used to kill trolls that way," she added in an offhand fashion.
"Mmmm," responded her cousin, half a sympathetic murmur and half a grunt of surprise.
"I got so angry I couldn't help myself, I ran to my window and chucked the whole basket out. At that time I lived way up in the crown of the Tree... the window looked out over the clearing. And I looked out to see stuffed mushrooms raining down on Spice. She was just standing there, no one else around. I'll never forget her expression, looking up at me. And I laughed! She looked so shocked, I couldn't help it, I laughed! She limped off, then I went down and gathered up the mushrooms and buried them where they couldn't hurt anybody."
"So they were really poisoned?"
"No!" wailed Sweetwind. "How was I to know that everything she makes tastes like that!" She burst into tears.
"That's it? That's the dark secret behind the three-and-a-half turn long feud?" No-Berries was disappointed. He got up onto his knees and stepped over Stifler so he could put his arms around his cousin again. "There, there," he comforted. "It's all just a misunderstanding. Did you try to apologize to her?"
"No," the sobbing girl gasped. "By the time I realized, she had already... well, it doesn't matter, it was too late."
The elf lad pulled his cap off his twisted locks and wiped at Sweetwind's face with it. "Now, now, it's never too late to apologize. It may be a playful cuff that starts a catfight, but it's never too late to back off and make it into play again. Just think of all the trouble she went to in trying to apologize to you, that first time."
"What trouble? She couldn't even say it."
"You lived at the top of the Tree then. She climbed all the way up there, with her bad leg? Sounds to me like she wanted very much to make up with you."
"Oh." Sweetwind, subdued, buried her face in her cousin's shoulder. "I never thought of that."
"Yes, and no one ever told you that, because you never talked to anyone about this, did you?" The brown-maned head shook no. "From now on, I'll always be here to talk with you whenever something troubles you. And, not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, you'll make up with Spice, and then everything will be all right again. Okay?"
The head tucked between his shoulders and neck nodded yes.
"Now, do I go and ask the minstrel to switch to a sad song, so you can cry some more? Or shall we listen to this song?" Dreamsinger's lute and Moontracker's pan-pipes were clearly audible, making a jaunty beat dance through the night forest. Many voices sang,
Elves dance under the stars,
Dreams of reunion with kin far away.
Sweetwind raised her head and sniffled, then softly joined in,
Soon when the Palace is ours,
All elves united together will stay.
Trim off excess fat and skin that hangs over the sides of the chicken, but leave most of the skin on - the skin adds flavor and moisture during broiling. Season both sides of chicken pieces, so that if people prefer to remove the skin before eating the chicken, the meat will still be nicely seasoned. Season both sides of chicken with black pepper and Spike (or other seasoned salt) to taste. Season lightly with garlic salt (if desired). Place chicken, skin-side-up, on prepared broiler rack. Broil 8-10 minutes; turn and broil an additional 4-5 minutes. Make sure no pink color remains in the thickest part of the chicken.
Salsa: In a non-reactive bowl, place mangoes, bell pepper, chives, cilantro, salt, black pepper and olive oil; lightly toss to combine ingredients. In a small, non-reactive saucepan, place onion, vinegar, and sugar. Bring to boil on high heat and boil 1 minute. Remove from heat and cool for 2 minutes. Pour over mango mixture and toss. Cool for 10 minutes and add avocado. Toss to combine ingredients. Store in a sturdy, plastic container with an airtight lid. Refrigerate.
Presentation: Serve chicken cold, spooning salsa over chicken just before serving. This dish travels well and is ideal for a picnic or a potluck. Pack chicken and salsa separately in ice chest. Keeps up to two days after preparation.
Adapted from a recipe by Cathy Thomas which originally appeared in the Orange County Register.
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