Red Moon Rising

by Paula Harrison

  She climbed on to the window ledge, closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. It took several minutes until she felt what she was hoping for. There was a swish of air behind her and pale blue wings curved open from her back. She touched them, amazed all over again. Then she looked down at the lane below.

  There was one slight problem with her plan…she didn’t really know how to fly.

  Maybe if she made sure her wings were spread wide she could at least glide down to the ground without hurting herself.

  She pressed her lips together tightly. This was it.

  Launching herself upwards, she spread out her arms and her wings opened too. She sailed over the plum tree by the front gate, lifted for a moment by the wind. But the ground zoomed upwards and she put her hands out to protect herself before hurtling straight into the churchyard wall on the other side of the lane.

  She picked herself up and examined her scratches and scrapes. Vowing not to try that again until she knew how to do it properly, she ran down the lane. She didn’t stop till she’d passed the last house on the edge of the village.

  It was weird walking along with wings. Even though they were light, they bumped against her back a little, and now and then a gust of wind caught them and lifted her off her feet. She closed her eyes to tell them to go. Even though she was outside Skellmore, it would be better to get rid of them. If she was seen like this she’d have a hard time explaining it.

  But with her eyes closed, her mind filled up with terror. She told herself it was just because she’d shut her eyes in the middle of the countryside. She opened them again. The footpath in front of her ran down to a narrow stream that joined the larger river half a mile further along. Even though nothing moved in the darkness, her skin prickled.

  Giving in to instinct, she ran down the footpath and through the fields, not slowing down until her panic subsided. As she reached the edge of Hobbin Forest, a bright full moon rose above the trees. Seeing its round white face made Laney wonder again why it had looked so red the night before.

  She shivered, noticing that her wings had suddenly disappeared and she was back in human form again. She wished she could make the change happen when she wanted it to.

  The church clock struck the half hour. She was meant to be meeting the faerie Elders right now. She took a deep breath and plunged under the canopy of the dark trees.

  Laney had no idea where in the forest she was supposed to be meeting the Elders. She struggled on through the trees and their low branches scraped her arms.

  “Stop,” said an icy voice. A bright light blinded her.

  She shielded her face. She was in a clearing, with Mr Stingwood and a lady with cold-looking eyes. Mr Stingwood didn’t have his walking stick with him this time and the way he strode forwards made Laney wonder if he’d ever really needed it.

  The bright light came from a white orb that he was holding. He let it float upwards to hang in the air above them. “Let us begin,” he said, and with a sweep of his hand he made the trees and bushes around the edge of the clearing grow together into a tightly knitted thicket set with savage thorns.

  Laney gasped. She was stuck inside a prison of branches. There would be no getting in or out. When she turned back, Stingwood and the lady had changed to faerie form. The air glowed white around them and the silvery marks on Stingwood’s hands were bright. Their wings were folded behind them.

  “But where’s Mrs Whitefern?” said Laney.

  Stingwood ignored her. “This is Miss Reed.” He pointed to the lady with the icicle eyes. “She will be conducting your test. She’s standing in for Mr Puddlewick, who used to be the Elder of your tribe.”

  “Are you ready to begin?” Miss Reed’s eyes drilled into Laney.

  Laney’s heart thumped. She felt less ready than ever before.

  “Wait!” The voice that spoke sounded far away. Then the woven thicket rustled.

  “Peter, you must let us through!”

  Laney’s heart lifted. That sounded like Gwen’s voice. Surely Gwen would help her.

  Stingwood frowned but waved a hand to let a tunnel open in the tightly woven branches. Two faeries came through. The tangle of thorns shut instantly behind them. Gwen looked graceful in her faerie form despite her plump frame and lined face. She wore a gauzy scarf around her head and short wings glistened behind her.

  Laney noticed with a jolt that the other figure was Claudia’s mum. Mrs Lionhart was small, but her dark wings and fierce eyes gave her an air of power. She stared at Laney with open curiosity.

  The air in the clearing buzzed with magic. Standing among these four powerful faeries made Laney wish she could find a way through the thicket and sneak back home.

  “You should not have shut me out like that, Peter,” said Gwen sharply. “I am a Thorn Elder too.”

  Stingwood bowed. “My deepest apologies,” he said silkily.

  “This must be done with the utmost care,” Gwen went on. “Testing someone who’s only just Awakened – we’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “We haven’t performed the Seeing Thread on a grown faerie for several years,” said Mrs Lionhart.

  “There hasn’t been a red moon before,” replied Stingwood. “Not in the last twelve years. The girl has Awoken at a time of bad omens. We must put maudlin feelings aside and do our duty.”

  Laney didn’t like being called “the girl” very much. “Why is everyone so worried about the moon being red last night?” she said.

  “This is not the time or place to explain faerie lore to you.” Mr Stingwood’s bushy eyebrows lowered. “Do not speak unless you are asked to.”

  “If it’s something to do with me, I’d like to know.” Laney was amazed at how brave she sounded. She folded her arms tight to stop him seeing how much she was shaking.

  “See these markings?” Mr Stingwood showed her the silvery marks on his hands. “These are the signs of a faerie Elder. If you cross me, you will regret it.”

  “Peter! She’s only just Awakened.” Gwen turned to Laney. “There’s a legend among faeries about a child who will be born at the time of a red moon. That kind of moon – called a Wolf Moon – has always brought bad luck. No one knows for sure what the prophecy means, but—”

  “Greytails don’t believe in it anyway,” said Mrs Lionhart fiercely. “It’s a lot of silly superstition.”

  Stingwood drew himself up to his full height and pointed at Laney. “How can you stand there calling it superstition when we have a girl here who Awakened on the night of the Wolf Moon? If she shows signs of unnatural power we must send her to the Faerie Council immediately.”

  Laney’s heart began to race. Her dad had told her not to worry about the red moon prophecy, but that was the main reason she was being tested. Becoming a faerie on the night of the red moon had made people suspicious of her.

  “But the prophecy says the child will be born under that moon, not Awaken,” said Gwen. “When is your birthday, Laney?”

  “July the fifteenth,” Laney said automatically. “Yesterday.”

  “You see?” Stingwood’s face darkened. “She had her birthday yesterday on the night of the Wolf Moon.”

  “Yes, but she can’t have been born under a red moon because there’s never been one in the month of July before,” said Gwen.

  Stingwood glared, but didn’t argue.

  “May I suggest we start the test?” Miss Reed cut in. “Come here, child.”

  “Will it hurt?” Laney walked reluctantly to the edge of the forest pool where Miss Reed stood.

  “For the first part I simply require you to show me what you can do.” She clicked her fingers and the white orb floated closer to them, shining down on the pool and turning it into a dark mirror. The wind blew and the leaves on the edge of the clearing rustled. Laney thought she saw something move on the other side of the thicket, but then it was gone.

  “We’ll start with something simple,” said Miss Reed. “Raise a single drop of water from the pool up to at lea
st waist height.”

  Laney focused on the pool and tried to concentrate. One drop, just one drop, she begged silently. The water stirred a little, but no drop appeared. Her cheeks grew hot. She tried again, putting every tiny bit of her willpower into making the water move, but it made no difference.

  “Oh dear! Finding it difficult, are we?” Miss Reed’s eyebrows rose. “Let’s try something else. Turn part of the pool into ice. You may touch the water if you need to.”

  Laney crouched down by the pool and put both hands in the water. She shut her eyes this time and tried to imagine the pond turning hard and white as a layer of ice stretched across it. She heard a faint hiss and opened her eyes. The water hadn’t changed at all. The faerie Elders were looking at her with various degrees of surprise, pity and disdain.

  “Are you sure she isn’t cheating?” Stingwood asked Miss Reed, who shrugged. “Well, there’s one way to find out.” From his pocket he drew a silver thread almost too thin to see. His dark-green wings flared out, as if he was pleased by what was to come.

  “The Seeing Thread allows us to see the truth of things,” Gwen explained to Laney. “We can use it to see exactly how much Mist power you really have. In the old days it was made of hemp, but it can be made of anything as long as it’s been dipped into a faerie ring.”

  “This one is spider silk, by the look of it. We must prime it with the power we’re searching for.” Miss Reed took the fragile-looking silver thread and plunged it into the pool. It came out decorated with water drops that gleamed white in the light from the orb.

  “Hurry up, for goodness’ sake,” said Mrs Lionhart. “I don’t want to be out here all night.”

  “Hold the girl still,” said Stingwood, taking back the thread.

  Miss Reed took Laney’s arms and held them behind her back.

  “You must remain absolutely still, Laney,” said Gwen. “The whole procedure becomes dangerous if you start moving.”

  Laney felt sick. She glanced at the tightly closed walls of the thicket all around her. She had to remember that she was doing this for Toby, to keep him safe.

  Stingwood stood close to her, widening the loop and holding it over her head. As he brought the string down around her, a searing pain began at the top of her forehead and worked down over her face, matching the pace of the string. Longing to move but knowing that she mustn’t, she clenched her fists.

  The Elders were speaking to each other but their voices were muffled by the pain in her head. Stingwood carried on lowering the thread, past her neck and over her shoulders to her middle. Suddenly the loop was broken. Miss Reed let go of Laney’s hands and she fell to the ground, the agony inside her fading.

  “Laney!” Gwen bent over her. “You were so brave, my dear. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She picked some pale feathery leaves from a plant growing near the trunk of a tree. “Smell this feverfew. It will help a little.”

  She crushed the leaves between the palms of her hands and gave them to Laney, who breathed them in and instantly felt a lot better.

  “Tell me the results,” Stingwood commanded. “How much Mist power does she have?”

  “She failed to raise even a single drop of water from the pool. She has a tiny amount of Mist power and the Seeing Thread confirms that,” said Miss Reed. “I do not think we need to fear this child as the next evil faerie of our time. It’s most likely that she didn’t Awaken until the age of twelve because she’s barely a faerie at all.”

  “But what about how she turned the river water red?” said Mrs Lionhart sharply. “That seems real enough.”

  “It was probably a one-off that happened because the child had just Awoken. A sudden burst of energy around the time of Awakening has been known before, but that doesn’t mean she’ll carry on being powerful,” said Miss Reed smoothly. “We all know that the father ignores faerie ways and has married a human. This is a family where the power is dying out and that is fine by me. She should not join the Mist tribe. There is no room in our clan for weaklings.”

  Laney met her cold eyes. “But aren’t I already in the Mist tribe? I mean, my power is over…water…” She trailed off. She hadn’t exactly shown them she had control over water.

  “You are a Mist, I suppose,” said Miss Reed. “But no one is taught how to use their full power without an invitation from their tribe and I shall not be recommending you for training.”

  Laney felt hollow inside. She’d failed the test. She hadn’t been able to show them anything.

  “I find it impossible to believe that she is so weak.” Stingwood pointed his finger in Laney’s face. “We must be absolutely sure. Hold her arms whilst I use the Seeing Thread again.” His eyes gleamed as he reassembled the loop in the spider silk.

  “No, that is enough. No more.” Gwen spread her wings and the air around her blazed with light. Stingwood’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t oppose me on this, Peter. Your Thorn spells are strong, but you have never tried them against mine.”

  “The test is done,” said Mrs Lionhart fiercely. “Leave the child alone.”

  Stingwood puffed out his chest angrily, but before he could speak the branches at the bottom of the thicket snapped and a hole appeared. A scuffling came from behind the bushes, followed by a low stuttering snarl.

  “Hobgobbits!” said Gwen. “Your wall of thorns won’t stop them, Peter!”

  “We shall not be interrupted by those low creatures!” snapped Stingwood. “We will get rid of them and carry on.”

  A dozen more holes appeared in the thicket and a squat shape that was little more than waist high rushed straight at them. Laney tried to dodge, but the growling thing caught her by the ankles and knocked her over. She had a close-up view of its matted fur and sharp teeth.

  “Ow!” she yelled, as it drew blood from her arm with its claws. She kicked out, managing to free herself and scramble up.

  More of the creatures entered the clearing in a strange lurching kind of run. Miss Reed was firing ice bolts at them while Stingwood grabbed two by their arms and hurled them at the thicket wall.

  “Quick, Laney! Go now while the other Elders are busy,” Gwen said into her ear. “Run!”

  “What are those things?” gasped Laney.

  “Hobgobbits. They’re nasty little things and they hate faeries. We’ll get rid of them. Now, go.”

  “There’s no way out!”

  Gwen touched her shoulders and Laney felt the rush of power as her wings unfolded behind her back. “Fly!” said Gwen.

  Laney took a deep breath and launched into the air. Her wings snagged on the branches but she struggled on and flew over the thicket before bumping down to the ground again. Then she ran and ran until she’d left the hobgobbits and the Elders far behind. The terror of the night lessened a little. She didn’t know whether she was happier to get away from Stingwood or those creatures.

  She pushed back the wisps of hair that had fallen over her eyes. Now that she thought about it, it wasn’t very hard to choose. Horrible as the hobgobbits were, with their growling and their pointed teeth, she’d rather face them than Stingwood any day.

  She slowed down at the edge of Skellmore and spent a while trying to make her faerie form disappear. Why hadn’t she been able to use her Mist power in front of the Elders? She felt so stupid.

  At last she managed to change back to human form. Then she hurried down the High Street, only stopping when she heard the sound of laughter. A few kids from school were hanging out next to the minimart and all of them had gold-ringed eyes.

  “Hey, Laney!” Jessie walked up to Laney and looked her up and down.

  Laney’s heart sank. So Jessie was a faerie too. Great.

  Jessie faked a theatrical yawn. “I heard you’d Awoken at last. It must have been really boring waiting for so long.”

  The kids behind Laney sniggered.

  Jessie’s eyes gleamed as she sensed Laney’s discomfort. “So now that you’re a Mist like me, you need to stop being such a freak and do somethi
ng about your hair.” Her eyes swept over Laney’s clothes and she curled her lip.

  “We’re in the same tribe?” Laney hadn’t thought her heart could sink any lower.

  “Only if you really are a Mist faerie, and right now I really doubt that. And you can’t hang around with Claudia like you did this morning,” said Jessie. “Mist faeries don’t make friends with Greytails.”

  “Why?” said Laney.

  “Because they’re Greytails, stupid!” said Jessie. “They hang around with smelly animals. Didn’t you realise what the stink was?” Right on cue, the kids behind her laughed again.

  “I’ll show you what a real Mist faerie looks like.” Jessie walked round the corner of the minimart, out of sight of the houses. The air shimmered as she changed into faerie form and stretched out violet wings. She swept her curly dark hair over her shoulders. “I heard that you can’t actually control your powers at all. What is the point of a faerie that can’t do that?” She leaned forwards. “And I was there just now, hidden behind the trees. I saw you fail the test and now they’ll never invite you to start training.” She stepped back, her eyes alight with triumph.

  “You were there?” Laney stared at her, disbelieving.

  “You don’t deserve to be a Mist tribe member anyway,” said Jessie. “Not after the things you’ve done. Even when we were little I knew there was something wrong with you.”

  “Shut up, Jessie.”

  “It’s probably your dad’s fault. I bet freakiness runs in your family.”

  Laney’s fists balled and she changed to faerie form instantly. As her anger rose she felt her wings begin to beat.

  Jessie rolled her eyes. “Ooh, wings! Big wow! I bet you can’t even fly properly.”

  The other faerie kids gave a cheer as Jessie swooped into the air and flew away across the fields.

  Hot with anger, Laney flew straight after her.

  “Face it, Laney!” Jessie yelled back at her. “There’s something wrong with you and you’ll never be one of us!”