They had, if only the cashbox…then Raven’s heart leaped at spying the box in Coral’s hands. Beri? Is the—
I have it. He patted his pocket.
Raven grinned broadly. Thank the Orb.
Willow elbowed his ribs. “’Tis a relief, isn’t it?”
“Oh, ho! You have no idea.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pointed to Coral. “They found Gran’s per—necklace!” Willow leaned into him for a moment—long enough that Raven realized what he’d done—then she hugged him and let out a whoop of glee. They were apart again as quickly as it’d happened. Had she meant to? Confusion muddled his thinking, and his face blazed. Immediately, he turned to Oyster and whispered the news as they joined the other three.
“I wasn’t kidnapped or lost,” Coral was saying indignantly as she swatted Salm’s arm. “’Twas nae Beri’s fault. We got within sight of you all, and he said he had business to attend to. I know that means a trip to the loo, so I thought I had time to sneak off to get another doughnut. Before I could, I saw that bloke carrying away Ms. Scallop’s lamb, the lighter one I’d held this morning with the braided leather collar. I knew it was hers. I’m sorry I scared everyone, but he wouldn’t let her go, and I couldn’t…”
Use magic to stop the man. Raven got that, but had following an unknown, maybe dangerous, human been worth it for a sheep?
She planted her fists on her hips. “I wasn’t about to break the rules and figured he’d be no more of a problem to get something away from than Salm. But he was, and I was glad for the help,” she finished with a defiant grin.
Raven grinned back. That was Coral, feisty in the face of danger. He extended his hand for her to shake. “You did what you could. We each did.”
“Trust what happens will be right!” Beri practically cheered. “We wouldn’t have found the cashbox if you hadn’t kept after him. You and Rory spotted the thieves.”
Speaking of… “Come on, mates,” Raven said, “we should catch these lambs.”
Between them, the lambs were easily corralled. Raven went to remove his belt to use as a leash and discovered he no longer wore it.
“Argh,” he cried. “I left my belt at the joust.”
Beri thumped him on the back and handed over his own belt, repeating, “Trust what happens will be right!”
Raven groaned. “Is that your new mantra?”
The doughnut lad approached them, his purple hair loose and wild about his face. “I’m Ian, and the estate security team wants you to tell them what happened. I’ll get this lass that doughnut, and some for everyone, while you wait to tell the authorities your story.” He spoke into his radio.
Oh. Raven glanced around, and the six of them moved closer like magnets. None of them looked assured about their story.
“What are we to do?” Oyster asked. Even Salm didn’t have an answer. They’d drawn notice, maybe not by using magic, but neither had they fit in.
Ian finished on his radio. “Where are your parents?”
Salm tried to explain but not explain. Raven steeled himself to watch his tongue. They might have caught the thieves. However, this…this was dangerous and more than they should handle. “My dad is with us,” Raven said. “Shall I fetch him?”
“I’ll go with him,” Willow announced. “We’re from out of town, and after this, none of us should be alone.” She slipped her hand into his.
Raven’s fears evaporated. Willow was a quick thinker, and he was glad to have her by his side. He smiled at Willow and squeezed her fingers. Everything would be fine, even if their elders decided their actions meant they’d fail their trial.
Ian accompanied them, and another faire worker came along to stay and watch their tent.
As they approached, Gran’s gaze found him. The tight creases at the corners of her frantic eyes were a sharp contrast to this morning’s placid look. Raven released Willow and strode ahead to hug his grandmother.
“We found it,” he whispered. “Beri has it safe.”
“Thank the Blessed Orb!” she mumbled under her breath. She held him tight, and when they parted, she had to wipe her eyes on her apron.
On the return to the manor house, some furious thought-speaking was happening privately between Dad, Gran, Ms. Scallop and Mr. Grouse. With the adults following behind, and Ian leading them through the groups of chatty people, Raven was even more aware of being in step with Willow, her hand once more firmly in his. A bubble of quiet, like in a pereport, settled around them. Maybe this wasn’t the best time, but it was probably as much privacy as they were likely to have, especially if they might have to leave the faire. He had to ask her now.
Raven leaned his head to hers. “Do you think,” he started. No, that wasn’t right. His hands were suddenly clammy. “Willow?” He started again. Why did he say her name when she was already looking at him? Just say it! “I really like you,” he blurted. “More than friends. Would you be willing to prebond with me to see if—”
Her eyes twinkled yellow with her energy.
Oh Blessed Orb!
Willow dipped her head, and her blond hair fell like a curtain to hide her face.
What did that mean? He swallowed. He hadn’t finished asking. “If you like me the same,” he said at the same moment Ian turned and said, “Stick close!”
Raven clamped his lips shut. Had he seen? Heard?
Willow dropped his hand and pressed hers to her brow. Head down, she shoved on after Ian, who called, “Excuse me, folks! Faire business,” and pushed through a gathered crowd.
Raven blew out a breath and kept pace with Willow. She wouldn’t look at him. No…
This wasn’t going well. Not at all.
Disappointment pricked at his energy, and only the fear of losing face in front of Willow was keeping it down. Now she knows how I feel. She can bring it up later…
But if she didn’t… Orb take it, what will I do?
Ahead, Ian came to a rope blocking the roadway and the route to the manor house. He gestured urgently to a police officer holding back the onlookers. Beyond, other officers loaded the three handcuffed thieves into their official cars. More police circled the white van that had crashed into a hedgerow. Two staff members dressed as peasants to welcome visitors at the fancy gate stood proudly with their pitchforks—and two officers.
The Windborne adults bunched up behind them, while Ian told the officer, “I need to use the side entrance to take the people who were robbed into the estate offices.”
They were allowed through to walk down the roadway, and Raven could feel people staring at them. He groaned. Again, this was the exact opposite of blending in. Beri was going to have a fit when the elders failed them.
Ian ushered them into the quiet house and upstairs where the only evidence of the medieval festivities were the costumes on Ian and two other knights. Everyone who’d stayed with the police was gathered in a meeting room, Beri and the others from the isle, the couple who had helped and Rory’s family. Officers were interviewing the adults.
While Dad and the other chaperones followed Ian to the officers, Gran clasped Raven’s elbow and steered them toward Beri. She met Beri’s gaze, and he gave a nod and tilted his head to his hand in his trouser pocket. Gran slid into the empty chair next to him, and Raven stood between them and the room. Willow stepped beside him, shoulder to shoulder, like it was a natural thing to do.
Would it be enough to block the view?
Without so much as a word—nor a thought-spoken message, by Raven’s judgment—Beri slid his hand from his pocket. The puffy envelope was visible for a split second before Gran’s hand wrapped around it and shoved it deep into her skirt pocket.
Her shoulders slumped, and for a moment, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Her lips moved, suspiciously like when she cast a spell. She looked sheepishly at them and whispered, “What I should have done in the first place—locked it to me.”
Then she withdrew her hand and threw her arms around Beri. “Thank you so very much, lad,” she
said. “I want to hear more later, but for now, tell the others I am beyond grateful.” She stood and hugged Willow and Raven, too.
He bent his head to her ear. “Will you tell the council?”
“Nay. We—Scallop, Merlin and Mr. Grouse—agreed if it was recovered, we would take this as a lesson and never mention it again.”
Beri had stood as well. “Ach, if the elders are nae in trouble, what about the youths? Have we drawn too much attention to pass our trials?”
Gran frowned. “We haven’t had the time to discuss your actions. Be patient and carry on.” Placing a finger to her lips, she turned and joined her cousin.
With a grunt, Beri plopped down. Raven lowered onto the adjacent chair, and Willow sat next to him. Beri passed them a box of doughnuts, and when Raven waved it off, Beri said grumpily, “Gives your mouth a reason not to be talking.”
They each took one.
While Gran and Ms. Scallop spoke to one officer with a pen and clipboard, Dad stood by watching Mr. Grouse answer questions for another, listing them with names that must be more human. “Beri Moors, Raven Meadows, Coral and Salm Sea—ah, Seward.” Mr. Grouse blinked rapidly.
Aye, they couldn’t all have names coming from nature and fit into the human world. Ha! Something their elders had never considered. Down the row of seats, Coral mouthed the new name—blast, he better pay heed and also remember them.
The officer put up a hand. “Hold on! One at a time.”
Mr. Grouse bobbed his head several times, and when he was directed to continue, he announced more firmly, “Oyster Esterbrook and Willow Ashton.”
They told their stories, minus the magical conversations. They had to claim they ran into each other and ended up in the car park.
The officer lifted a finger. “Though your actions were heroic—and, fortunately, successful—chasing down those thieves was dangerous.” He frowned at Coral. “For you in particular, young lady. Why were you separated from your brother and friends?”
Coral peeked at Salm, and he gave a slight nod. “I was sneaking off to buy a doughnut.”
“I’m sure you both have heard this before,” the officer said, sweeping his gaze over Rory, too, sitting nearby with his mum. “Children your age need to stay with your parents or older friends. No one should be wandering alone at a public event until you are at least a teenager. Thirteen.”
“But-but I’m fourteenth—fourteen!” sputtered Coral.
The officer looked between her and Rory. They were about the same size.
“She is,” said Salm, echoed by Mr. Grouse.
“Beg your pardon, miss.” He stalked off to talk with another officer, then again called over their chaperones.
Coral grumbled to Salm, and beside Raven, Willow blew out her breath. Then she changed seats to sit next to Coral and put an arm around her.
Raven sank in his seat. Not a word, and now she wasn’t even sitting next to him. This didn’t look good for him. But as he watched Coral whispering to Willow and Willow whispering back, his bad humor lessened. More important things had happened today. They were still together. No one had slipped up and used magic.
Beri nudged him. “Trust what happens will be right. I did, and I was able to run among those automobiles to help Coral and find the cashbox. Your turn will come.”
Raven scowled, just because it was easier than agreeing. “Can I remind you when it doesn’t?”
Finally, the Windborne adults and Rory’s dad returned with Ian and another man in a suit.
“They’ll be pressing charges on our behalf,” Dad said. “We’re fortunate nothing of ours was lost.”
The man in the suit cleared his throat. “Yes, yes. Thank you to everyone in this room. My staff can’t be everywhere, so we extend our appreciation to each of you who saw something suspicious and spoke up. But as the director of the Cairnkin Manor Foundation, I must enforce our policies that incidents must be reported to us—as they were—and then the matter left for our trained security staff to act upon.” He paused. “Do you understand that you put yourselves at risk?”
Ho, they were in trouble. Now their elders had the breaking of human policies to use against them passing as well. Raven nodded, along with everyone else.
“Right, then,” the man said. “Next time—should there be one—everyone will follow procedure. I regret this has spoiled your day at the faire, so we have free passes for each of you to attend next year’s faire. And today, would you do us the honor of joining the royal family for lunch in their grandstand box to view the midday joust?”
Coral squealed. She whirled to Merlin and clasped her hands. “Please? Please, please!”
Fifteen minutes later, after the faire staff had taken their orders for lunch to be brought to the joust, Ian and another knight escorted their group to the grandstand. They queued up to wait along the back of the building for their introductions, following the royalty, of course. Ian was showing off his ring collection to the girls and Oyster—but mostly Oyster—and Salm was talking up the Blue Knight while keeping his arm around Coral’s shoulders. Raven was resigned to Willow sticking with Coral. Then she squeezed in beside him.
She’d come over on purpose, but didn’t say anything. That could mean only one thing—to tell him no. Raven blew out a breath. He leaned down to whisper, “I get it. Salm’s a lifelong friend, too, and a good fellow. I don’t blame you for wanting to prebond with him and hope—”
Willow burst out laughing. “That is nae what I was about to say. I mean, aye, Salm is a nice friend and everything, but… You caught me by surprise earlier. My…I slipped and had to settle things.”
Oh. Now he understood. Her magic had slipped. That’s why she’d hidden her face and gone quiet.
“I would like to prebond with you,” she said.
“You would?” His heart leaped. “I mean, you would. Brilliant!” He felt great…except for one thing. He shouldn’t ask, but if not now, when it had been a large part of their day, then when? “So, what about Salm? He certainly looked like he wants to ask you the same.”
Willow scrunched up her nose. “Salm is…Salm. Nae serious enough for me.”
“But he’s good at magic and following the rules, pleasing the elders…” Orb take it, what am I doing, trying to convince her I’m a rotten choice? He should shut his trap.
“You, Raven of the Meadows, don’t give yourself enough credit for your efforts. You attempt these things as often as the rest of us, and even succeed as much as we do. You shouldn’t compare yourself to others. I think you’re perfect as yourself.”
Right. Good. This was…good. “I think you are, too.” He grinned like a git.
She did, too, for a moment, then sobered. “But we canna until we both turn sixteenth.”
Well, yes, he’d known that, but getting her answer was more important. Her birthday was in November, and his was next April. “Ugh. That’s—”
“Eight months.” Willow shot him a crooked smile and studied her feet.
Blessed Orb, she knew the count? Did that mean she’d also been thinking of prebonding with him?
He was about to ask when Beri bounced over, grinning broadly.
“First time I’ve seen you smiling all day,” Raven said. “Did you talk Salm into your chores in exchange for hauling his sister out of trouble?”
Beri thumped him on the back. “Merlin says we have passed our trials, no matter what else happens today. Brilliant example of physical teamwork, more than he could have hoped for!”
“Then you won’t be using next year’s pass?” Raven teased.
“I dinnae even need to attend this joust, he says.”
“Aw…” Willow started.
“But I will, because I trust it will be safe.”
Raven met Willow’s gaze and smiled. This day was turning out all right. He elbowed Beri. “Maybe that trust advice isn’t so bad.”
Thank you!
I hope you had fun reading Trial at the Faire!
Do you want to know
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Read on for a preview of Double Rescue…
Preview of Double Rescue, a Windborne series prequel novella
Chapter 1
An Innocent Game of Stickyball
The Isle of Giuthas, in the Windborne Irish District
Mid-June
The whistle blew. Raven of the Meadows tucked his black feathered wings and dropped into the grove of towering Scots pines. He darted away from his winged friends and zigzagged around the needled treetops to throw off any followers. The other four teenage wizards did the same, vanishing into the canopy.
With fifteen seconds to go, he flapped hard, rising up through a tight chimney of close trunks he’d scouted earlier. The perfect hiding spot, a hole in the foliage near the top, lay two hundred feet above the ground. It came into view. He rose above it and flew toward the yards-wide limb. Barely landing on his boot soles, he dashed into the shadows to press his chest against the rough bark.
The whistle blew again, a longer whine marking the end of the first thirty seconds during which everyone had to hide.
Folding his wings, Raven turned around. Needled boughs splayed left and right, creating viewing holes forward, up and down. Half of the pine grove lay within his view, and by going around the other side, he’d overlook the rest of the three-hundred-foot-tall ancient pines filling the gap between two mountain ridges, the designated boundaries for today’s game.
Now to wait for the others to show themselves. He intended to win this game of stickyball by showing off his newest wildlife tracking skills. Beri—nearly his brother since Dad was raising him, too—knew how much he’d improved. The others didn’t, not even Willow of the Forest, the lass who lived closest to them. What better way to prove his progress than to track and knock out every player?
Trial at the Faire Page 7
