“What are you doing here, Laney?” Gwen said as she reached the top. “Sunrise isn’t for several hours.”
“I’ve come to tell you: I think the Shadow is a Mist,” said Laney breathlessly. “When we were fighting, he took hold of my neck and ice spread across my skin. It must have come from his fingers. We can warn everyone – let them be on the lookout for a Mist faerie.”
“Slow down, my dear,” said Gwen. “Can you be sure that it was ice and that the Shadow made it?”
“I think so … I couldn’t see it, but it felt like ice. It all happened so fast.” Laney thought of the fight and the Shadow’s words. “And there’s something else … the Shadow said someone had a plan for me. He made it sound as if someone else was in command.”
“Someone higher than the Shadow? I had not considered that.” Gwen was silent for a minute then she smiled. “Yet so far they have not managed to keep a Myrical. We must maintain our patient, watchful attitude – things have a way of revealing themselves at the right time.”
She touched the silvery tip of the Wildwood Arrow and a pulse of magic shot along the wood to the end. “How is your father doing?”
“He’s in hospital,” Laney told her. “They think he has concussion from hitting his head.” A fresh wave of worry rose inside her.
“Try not to be anxious,” said Gwen. “I’m sure he just needs time to recover. We are very resilient – much stronger than humans.”
“That’s what Mrs Lionhart said too.”
“Well, we Thorns and Greytails do agree on things from time to time, although it doesn’t happen very often.” Gwen’s wise amber eyes met Laney’s. “When he wakes up, I know your father will be very proud of your courage in facing the Shadow. I’m sure your mother would have been proud too, if she was here. Faerie magic is passed down from both parents, you know.”
Laney felt a jolt of surprise at the mention of her mum. “But I’m like a disaster area! My powers have gone wrong from the start.”
Gwen smiled enigmatically. “Well, your powers did seem weak at first and that’s what the Seeing Thread test indicated. But look how magic shines from you now.”
Laney glanced at her faerie skin, which glowed with a silvery radiance far brighter than it had a few weeks ago. A tiny suspicion in her mind grew bigger. “Gwen?”
But Gwen stopped her. “Ah! Here are the Thorns. We must prepare.”
Laney turned to look. A thin stretch of grey sky on the horizon was steadily growing lighter. It wouldn’t be long till sunrise. At the bottom of the hill, dark figures moved into position, forming a ring around the base of the mound. Then slowly they climbed the hill together, stopping close to the top and circling the immense stone.
Laney pressed her hands together to hide the heat inside them. Every single one of them was a Thorn, and they stood waiting in their human form. Nobody spoke, but Laney noticed how tired they looked. Stingwood lurked at the back of the crowd, holding his arms awkwardly as if they still felt wooden. Laney looked round for Fletcher and he gave her a slight smile.
“Thorn friends, welcome!” Gwen’s voice rang out. “We await the first light of morning.”
Laney gazed at the brightening sky through the hole in the stone and had a vivid memory of putting the Crystal Mirror through that gap, to be locked away inside Time. She remembered how there had been a sudden burst of flame from the top of the stone as she’d done so, and the burn mark on her finger prickled.
Gwen lifted up the Wildwood Arrow. The circle of Thorns didn’t move. “This is the Wildwood Arrow, our Thorn Myrical,” said Gwen in a clear voice. “We are placing it in the safekeeping of the Mencladden Stone alongside the Crystal Mirror. May the spell hold until we can be free from the danger and fear of the Shadow.” A chink of sun appeared in the east, scattering bright rays across the countryside. “From the spring buds and summer flowers, to the autumn leaves and bare winter boughs, we send this Arrow through.” And she drove the Arrow into the oval-shaped hole in the centre of the stone where it vanished completely.
A murmur ran round the group of watching Thorns. Mrs Thornbeam wiped her eyes and Mr Thornbeam coughed, while Sara stood between them holding their hands. Laney suddenly felt like she shouldn’t be watching, that she was in the middle of something private.
“Friends.” Gwen dropped her arms. “Thank you for coming here this morning. I spoke to many of you yesterday but you now know that we have a Shadow faerie in our midst. A few of you have even seen him. I will meet with the Elders of the other tribes as soon as possible to discuss the best course of action.”
“Will they all hate us now?” said a little voice, and Sara Thornbeam stepped to the front of the Thorn circle. “There are still brambles everywhere, and it was all our fault.”
“No! It was the Shadow – not you!” said Laney. “He poisoned the Arrow with his dark spell. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Some Thorns did,” Mr Thornbeam said, his craggy eyebrows drawing downwards. “Some carried on down the wrong path even though they were warned.”
Everyone looked at Stingwood, who met their gaze fiercely. “It’s because we’re living crammed in with the other tribes and the humans – that is the root of the problem. But then you’ve never seen that, have you? Let’s all hold hands with the Greytails and Mists and be nice, that’s what you say. We don’t know which tribe this Shadow comes from but I’m darned sure he isn’t a Thorn.”
Laney fidgeted and Gwen gave her a silencing look. “If that’s an apology, Peter, it’s the worst one I’ve ever heard,” she said crisply. “The truth is that you found the Wildwood Arrow and didn’t tell anyone. You put us all in danger by going ahead with your project without the full approval of the tribe.”
“Then I apologise.” Stingwood leaned on his walking stick to make a mock bow. “I should have known better than to try to build Avalon for you lot.” Straightening his massive shoulders, he turned and walked away.
Mrs Thornbeam picked Sara up and smiled at Laney. “Gwen tells us that you and Claudia made the elixir potion that undid the Shadow magic. You should be proud of yourselves. No Thorn could have done better.”
“Thanks!” Laney blushed.
“This is for your father, dear.” Mr Willowby handed her a tiny cloth bag with some herbs inside. “Rosemary helps speed the healing. Just put it under his pillow.”
The Thorns began to leave in small groups, making their way back down the hill. Gwen changed out of faerie form and straightened her blue silk hat. “Claudia! You can come out now.”
Claudia appeared from behind a clump of trees and flew up to Laney, Fletcher and Gwen in a graceful glide. “I just didn’t want to interrupt all the Thorn stuff.”
“But your mum wants you to report back on whether we really did place the arrow in the safety of Mencladden. Isn’t that right?” said Gwen. “The Greytails want to be sure.”
“She did mention it.” Claudia put on a dramatic voice. “These are dangerous times. We cannot be too careful. That kind of thing. But I’m glad the tribes finally believe there’s a Shadow on the loose now – it’ll make things easier.”
“What about the Mists?” asked Fletcher. “Do they believe it too? Has anyone seen them?”
“We saw Jessie but she didn’t know about the Shadow,” said Laney. “My dad said he thought Frogley and the other Mists would send help to Skellmore but I don’t think they did.”
“Many of them live in Gillforth and Pyton so they may not know the truth of what happened,” said Gwen. “But several Thorns saw the Shadow this time so I hope that will overcome any doubts about the matter.”
“It is kind of strange,” said Claudia thoughtfully. “It’s almost as if the Shadow was ready to be seen.”
Laney shifted uneasily, looking at Gwen. “Can I tell them what I think?”
“Tell us what?” said Claudia, wide-eyed.
“Tell them but be sure not to share this with anyone else. As yet this is only a suspicion, and a wrongful accus
ation could cause immense damage to relations between the tribes. You heard what Stingwood said – already people are starting to draw their own conclusions,” Gwen said seriously. “I must go now. There’s much to be done to get Skellmore back to rights – vines to untangle and thickets to banish. I hope those wretched TV people don’t get in my way!” She hobbled steadily down the hill.
“Well, Laney?” Claudia looked like her eyes would pop. “Tell us what?”
“I think maybe the Shadow came from the Mist tribe. He used ice when we were fighting and how could he have done that if he wasn’t a Mist?” said Laney.
Claudia looked shocked. “A Mist! I didn’t think any of them were that powerful. No offence!”
“It all happened fast,” said Laney, “so it’s hard to be completely sure.”
“Then we shouldn’t jump to conclusions about who he is yet.” Fletcher’s eyebrows lowered and for a moment he looked exactly like his dad. “But one day we’ll know. I want to see this monster defeated after what he did to my tribe.”
Laney hadn’t heard him talk like that before. “I think I have something else to tell you as well but …” She hesitated. “I need to be sure that I’m right first. I’ll meet you at the bridge over the river in a couple of hours.”
Fletcher looked concerned. “Do you need any help?”
“No, I’m fine,” Laney insisted. “I’ll meet you there, OK?”
“Mysterious! But you know you can’t keep a secret from us for long!” Claudia spread her wings.
“Let’s go, Miss Curiosity!” Fletcher spread his wings too, and he and Claudia flew away.
Laney walked down the empty hill, slowing as she reached the bottom. The reeds at the river’s edge moved and a duck emerged, flapping its wings. Diamond flecks danced on the water in the light of the rising sun.
Between Laney and the river lay the faerie ring with its secrets.
You can’t keep a secret from us for long, Claudia had said.
Maybe that was true. How could anyone bear to keep a secret for a long time? But if her suspicions were right that’s exactly what her dad had been doing.
She made herself take a tiny step forwards, and another and another, until she could hear the high voices inside the faerie ring. Their song started up faintly, telling of life, death and magic, and the Otherworld beyond. She felt the familiar pulling sensation, the urge to get closer and hear more. At the same time knowing that if she took a step too close it would be the last thing she ever did.
Then she heard what she was really listening for – a voice she thought she knew. She sank to her knees. “Mum?”
The voice carried on speaking softly with no sign that it had heard her. Was it her mum? And if she spoke did sounds pass the other way through the ring? Laney leaned closer. The voice was telling a story of fire and water. She knelt there listening until the other voices grew louder, drowning out everything else with their song.
Pulling herself away from the ring, Laney unfolded her wings and flew along the riverbank until she got closer to Skellmore. Then she ran the rest of the way back to Oldwing Rise. The house was horribly quiet and empty, with half a cup of tea standing on the side in the kitchen and Toby’s toys strewn across the sitting room. She felt a twinge of sadness at being away from Kim and Toby, especially while her dad was hurt. She would ask Claudia’s mum to drive her back to Pennington Hospital in a little while but before that there was something she had to know.
She went to the bookcase and took down the blue shoebox with her birth certificate and the old photos inside. She took out the birth certificate and read the date: 15th July. Then she looked at the line below with her mum’s name, Cordelia, and the smudged surname next to it. Her dad had told her for years that her mum had been called Cordelia Brightsea. But now that she looked closely, the barely decipherable capital letter of the second name didn’t look like a B. It looked more like an E.
She stared at it until her eyes started to go fuzzy. There was something strange about all this – the smudge over the surname and the way her dad had never wanted to talk about marrying her mum. Surely he’d kept something that would tell her more. She searched through the whole shoebox but it was all receipts and gas bills in her dad’s name. Running upstairs, she went into her dad and Kim’s room. Feeling guilty, she rifled through drawer after drawer. There was nothing, just clothes and an old book at the bottom of her dad’s bedside table. She pulled it out. It had a picture of a couple of animals in a rowing boat on the front. Why was he keeping a copy of The Wind in the Willows in his bedside drawer? She picked it up and a tattered bookmark fell out. She flicked backwards through the yellowing pages till she came to the front.
There was a name in the inside cover, written in round, childish handwriting: Cordelia Embers. This had been her mum’s book.
Embers. It had to be a Blaze tribe name.
Laney sat down on the bed, holding the book tightly. Her mum had belonged to the tribe with power over fire. Her dad hadn’t married another Mist faerie after all.
She traced a finger over the name Embers. If her mum had been a Blaze faerie then what did that make her? She’d been so sure that she was a Mist and her dad must have believed that too. He must have thought she’d inherited his Mist powers rather than her mum’s Blaze ones. He’d always refused to have any fire in the house – no candles, no matches, nothing. Was it because fire reminded him too much of losing her mum? Or had he wanted to make sure any traces of Blaze power stayed hidden deep inside her?
Taking the book with her, she went downstairs and tidied up all the papers and her birth certificate back into the shoebox. Before putting the box away, she took out her favourite photo – the one of her mum standing in the bare, windswept garden holding her as a baby. She slipped the picture inside the front cover of The Wind in the Willows and hid the book at the bottom of the shoebox.
Closing her eyes, she switched to faerie form and felt a new sense of warmth underneath the rush of power. She looked into the mirror above the mantelpiece. Her eyes were gold-ringed and a blue dress clothed her faerie form as it always had. But her wings … she flexed them and her throat tightened. Her pale-blue wings were tinged with flame-like orange all around the edges. The coppery tint caught the light as she flexed them.
She’d changed and instinctively she knew there was no going back.
Her hands grew hot and she opened her fingers to release the little flames that danced in the centre of her palms. It wasn’t a safe kind of power, this Blaze magic, but it was hers and having it made her feel stronger.
Fletcher and Claudia were waiting for her on the bridge sharing a big bag of toffee popcorn.
“Guess what!” Claudia smoothed her dark hair. “My mum’s gone off to meet the other Elders for a War Council about the Shadow. I bet they don’t even thank us for finding out about him in the first place.”
“It doesn’t really matter as long as they catch him,” said Fletcher calmly.
“It won’t be easy,” said Laney. “The Shadow won’t give up. He knows the tribes will argue with each other and he’ll be ready to use that against them.”
“You’re very wise all of a sudden!” Claudia scrutinised Laney. “Are you ready to reveal your Grand Secret now?”
Laney’s stomach lurched; suddenly she felt worried about what they might think. “Don’t be shocked, but it’s kind of unusual.” She took a deep breath.
“Is it about that prophecy and how you Awakened on the night of that red moon?” said Claudia. “That was my guess. You’ve found something out about the prophecy – how does it go? Something about breaking a faerie ring and a child of fever?”
“Child of Aether,” corrected Fletcher. “Although I don’t know what that means.”
“No, it’s nothing to do with that.” Laney dragged her fingers through her fair hair. “You’re making it harder.”
“Sorry!” Claudia clamped her lips shut and fixed her cat-like eyes on Laney.
Laney took anoth
er deep breath but she couldn’t think of the right thing to say so she just held out her hands. The flames from her palms leapt high, full of golden heat. “I think my mum was really a Blaze faerie. Her surname was actually Embers. I found it written inside an old book. She must have passed her Blaze power on to me.”
Claudia’s eyes grew round. “A Blaze! Well, that explains a lot! And your dad never said anything about it?”
“He told me her surname was Brightsea – a Mist name,” Laney admitted.
“I’ve heard of people marrying someone from another tribe and getting into huge amounts of trouble,” said Fletcher. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you.”
Laney said quickly. “This is just between us. I can’t ask my dad any more till he’s better so I’d rather not tell the Elders.”
“No wonder the Mist training didn’t go well.” Fletcher shook his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to anybody.”
Laney flushed with relief. “I know it’s all been weird – with my powers and stuff…”
“Relax!” Claudia grinned. “I guess I’d better stop calling you Water Girl now. Flame Girl suits you better anyway.”
“I just thought I should tell you.” Laney closed her hands again. “I ought to go back. I need to visit my dad at the hospital.” She turned back across the bridge with the others by her side.
“So the flames in your hands don’t hurt then?” Claudia asked curiously. “And could you throw one at an enemy – like a fireball? Or could you point at something and make it melt? Or—”
“Leave her be,” said Fletcher. “She doesn’t know yet.”
Laney grinned. “I’m not ready to show off any fire skills yet. But when I am you’ll be the first to know.” She felt warmth pulsing in the palms of her hands and her heart rose. There was so much more to find out about being a Blaze. She’d only just begun.
Acknowledgements
The Wildwood Arrow Page 17
