Wishes and Wings (4 page)

She was about to fall asleep when she heard her mother get up.

Alida listened carefully.

She heard the muted whir of faerie wings.

Was her mother going to look at the town? Alida knew her mother would be careful, but she was relieved when she finally heard the sound of her mother's wings again.

Alida slid from beneath her blankets and tiptoed away from the carts, following the sound.

“I tried not to wake anyone,” her mother apologized as she came down, gliding until her feet touched the ground.

“Is everything all right?” Alida asked.

Her mother nodded. “I think so. But the village isn't as far away as I remembered, and two of the newer houses are close to the path.”

Alida heard the worry in her voice. “How close?”

“We should travel as soon as we can, before the sun is up,” her mother said. “I was hoping we
wouldn't have to ask Gavin to go ahead of us, but I think we should.”

Alida thought about Gavin walking past the houses.

He would have to hide, trying to make sure no one was awake or close enough to see the road.

Then he would have to run back. And if someone thought he was a thief, sneaking close in the dark …

She looked at her mother. “Let me go instead.”

Her mother shook her head.

“What if someone sees him and thinks he's a thief?”

“He will be careful,” her mother said.

“But what if there
are
humans awake, walking around?” Alida whispered. “Gavin will have to tiptoe away, then run to tell us. I can fly much faster than he can run.”

Alida could tell her mother was thinking about it.

“I can hide high in a tree,” Alida said. “I'll watch for a while, make sure no one is awake, then come back.”

“You have to be very careful not to be seen,” her mother said. “One glimpse of a faerie flying, and the story would spread. Lord Dunraven could figure out we're going home.”

“No one will see me,” Alida promised, trying to sound calm.

Her mother gripped her shoulders. “All right. Let's get everyone up.”

And they did, explaining over and over why they had to leave so early, why everyone had to be quiet and hurry.

Alida woke Gavin and told him what she was going to do.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Alida nodded.

“Please be careful.”

“I will,” she promised.

And while the faeries were getting ready to leave, her mother whispered the same three words in her ear and kissed her on the cheek.

Then Alida spread her wings and flew upward.

She kept going until she was above the trees.

The moon was up and bright, but it was still too dark to see the path clearly.

For a long moment Alida hovered. Then she turned in a circle, memorizing the shapes of the trees so she could find her way to the little clearing again.

The sky would soon begin to turn gray along the horizon.

She started downward, then stayed just above the treetops, flying fast.

The path got wider, and it curved around the biggest oaks.

Alida followed it, sliding through the rushing air, breathing in the scent of wind and dew.

She didn't slow down until she saw the first house.

It was painted white, shining in the moonlight. She perched high in a tree to listen.

At first there was no sound—no voices, no footsteps. There was a barn behind the house, and she heard a horse fluttering out a long breath. Then, after a moment, she heard wood's mice rustling leaves.

Alida waited, listening to the silence.

She was about to fly farther, listen a little more, then hurry back to tell her family it was safe.

But then she heard hoofbeats.

It wasn't deer. It wasn't just a few horses in some human's pasture, either.

It was at least twenty horses, maybe more.

And as she rose into the air to go warn her family, she heard the faint clanking of metal against metal.

Lord Dunraven's men wore armor.

They carried swords.

Alida flew toward the rising sun, faster than she had ever flown before.

5

A
lida raced toward her family. They were lined up on the road, waiting for her. She was so out of breath when she reached them, she could manage to say only one word: “Guards!”

“Coming this way?” her mother asked.

Alida nodded, gasping in every breath.

“Do we have time to hide?”

Alida nodded again. “Hurry!”

Her mother whirled around and spoke quietly to the faeries at the front of the line. The instant she stepped away, Alida saw them explaining what her mother had said to the faeries behind them. They told
the next family—and the message went down the line.

So within just a few heartbeats everyone had heard the warning.

“See to the goats and cows,” Alida's mother ordered her, then she was whispering instructions to Terra and two of their cousins.

Terrified, Alida ran to make sure the goats and cows were led far enough from the road, tethered behind a copse of elm trees. Then she sprinted back.

Gavin was helping some of the elders around a crisscrossed pile of fallen limbs.

Alida started toward him, but her mother caught her arm. “Make sure everyone stands close together,” she said.

And then she was gone, running to look down the road.

Alida got the elders gathered in one place, along with the faerie mothers who had babies.

“Make a circle around them,” she whispered to everyone else. “Stand as close as you can.”

No one questioned her. No one argued. Faster than seemed possible, everyone was in place and suddenly still, except for two crying babies. Their mothers soothed them quickly, and then it was quiet.

Alida could hear the hoofbeats. The guards were coming fast.

It would be all right, she told herself.

The goat carts and the cows were well hidden. The guards would gallop past and keep going.

Alida could see only a little strip of the road.

She spotted Gavin. He looked scared too, she thought. And only then did she realize it was getting light.

The sun was rising.

Her mother was keeping watch, hidden by the wide trunk of an old ash tree.

“Be still, everyone,” she whispered. “And stay still. I don't have time to explain.”

Alida watched as her mother lifted her hands, making the quick weaving pattern with her fingers.

Everyone was staring at her, silent, confused as she whispered the odd words, then recited the name of every single faerie. She did it so quickly that her whispering sounded more like wind than words.

Alida felt herself trembling. The hoofbeats were getting loud.

“You can see one another,” Alida's mother said, “but the magic makes us invisible to the guards. They can still hear us, though. Don't talk, don't whisper, not a sound. Do you understand?”

Everyone nodded.

Alida glanced down at her hands. In the early daylight she could barely see the silver glow.

She glanced at Terra and her cousins.

They all looked scared. She was sure she did too.

As the hoofbeats got closer, Alida could hear the sound of clanking metal again.

Then she could hear voices.

The riders were arguing.

“HALT!”

It was an angry shout.

The other voices faded instantly.

The thunder of hoofbeats slowed, then stopped.

Alida felt her stomach tighten. Why would they stop here? Why weren't they just galloping past?

Alida looked at her mother.

She was standing straight and tall again. Her shoulders were squared, her chin was up, and she had one finger pressed against her lips. Alida understood. Silently her mother was telling them all to be brave, to stay quiet.

Alida couldn't see the horses, but she could hear them blowing out deep breaths.

They were fidgeting, jingling the buckles on their bridles.

The guards were talking in low grumbles again.

“Silence!” It was the same voice, loud and sure.

“We're falling asleep in our saddles, Commander,” someone called out. “How much longer?”

“We will finish what we were ordered to do! DISMOUNT!” the commander shouted.

Alida heard the creak of saddle leather as the men all got off their horses and stretched.

The commander dismounted and stepped back from his own horse. Alida could see him through the tree leaves.

He was tall, and his face was as hard as stone.

Then he turned away. He was tightening the cinch on his saddle.

Alida held her breath.

It would be all right.

Tightening a cinch took a moment or two. No more than that. The guards would stretch and walk around a little, and then they would ride onward.

But then, behind the elm trees, one of the cows sidled.

A twig snapped beneath its hooves.

Everyone flinched.

The commander turned.

His head was tilted, and Alida knew he had heard the sound. He handed his reins to someone she couldn't see, and walked to the edge of the path.

Then he stood still.

Alida glanced at her mother, then at her father and Gavin.

The commander peered into the trees. “Is someone there?” he shouted.

His voice startled the goats, and they shifted in their harnesses.

“Come out here,” the commander yelled.

No one moved.

Alida could hear her heart thudding.

She glanced at Gavin, but he was bent over, picking something up. A stone?

The commander was walking into the trees, squinting in the early light. “If I find you hiding, I will make you sorry,” he said.

Alida could barely breathe.

The commander turned, looking over his shoulder, and Alida knew he was about to call out to the guards.

She closed her eyes, stiff with fear. If they galloped into the woods, the faeries would be trampled. Maybe they should fly, all of them at once. Some would escape….

“Sir!”

Alida's whole body jerked at the sound of Gavin's voice.