Authors: Michelle Harrison
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Fantasy & Magic, #Juvenile Fiction / Fantasy & Magic
A large circle had been gouged into the grass, patterns and odd symbols carved within it. At its center, fenced in by a host of burnt-out matches and candles, a pebble weighted a photograph of Suki to the ground. Hardened candle wax had been dripped over her face, obliterating it.
“I knew it,” Suki whispered, white-faced. “I just knew it. Someone’s worked magic against me. This is why my visions have stopped.” She leaned forward, reaching for the photograph.
“Don’t touch it!” Tino batted her hand away. “Don’t touch anything! You don’t know what kind of spell this is—it needs to be properly disassembled.” He glanced around, seeing more groups of people approaching. “Samson, move the caravan back into
place for now. And all of you keep quiet about this. We don’t want the whole camp knowing—the last thing we need is to cause a panic.”
Samson dragged the caravan back into place, hiding the sinister circle from view, despite Suki’s protests.
“We can’t leave it,” she insisted. “We have to get rid of it, now!”
“We will,” Tino replied. “But we need to find out how to go about it. Without Fix, that could take awhile. But for now, a simple purge spell should be performed. I can tell you how to do it, but you’ll need to do it alone….”
Suki and Tino walked off in the direction of his caravan, leaving the rest of them behind.
“That settles it, then,” said Crooks, his eyes tracing the tracks in the mud where the caravan had been dragged. “Looks like we’re going to Dawn’s without Suki.”
Almost an hour had passed since Rowan had left Elvesden Manor. While Fabian cleaned out the chicken coop and collected the morning’s eggs, Tanya hung around the kitchen waiting for him to finish. She had held off on walking Oberon until Fabian returned to accompany her so that they might use the opportunity to talk about the previous night’s discovery and to think about how to tackle Gredin’s
punishment. She was so preoccupied that, for several minutes, she did not realize that she was alone with her grandmother.
“Something on your mind?” Florence asked, emerging from the pantry.
“No,” she said quickly, before realizing that there
was
, in fact, something she had been meaning to discuss. “Actually, yes.” She sat down, silencing Oberon’s whines with a biscuit. “It’s about Gredin.”
Florence closed the pantry door. “Are you going to tell me what’s happened?”
“Not exactly. It’s about guardians… fairy guardians in general,” Tanya continued. “I know that every child born with the second sight has one, but what I don’t understand is
why
. Because they don’t seem to enjoy it, or want to protect us.” She stroked Oberon’s head, then lifted him onto her lap. “Sometimes they even seem to resent it.”
She averted her eyes guiltily. “I know that he only punishes me when I do something he doesn’t want me to, and he says it’s for my own good, but…”
“You don’t have to tell me whatever it was.” Her grandmother’s gray eyes were suddenly wistful. “I was young once too, you know.” She stared down at her hands, crinkled and faded like a years-old newspaper. “I remember what it was like.” She shook her head faintly. “I wasn’t much older than you when I found myself asking the same question of Raven. She didn’t want to answer, but eventually I wheedled it out of her.
“As you know by now, Elizabeth Elvesden was a
changeling. Her fairy bloodline resulted in some of the family, including you and me, having the second sight. That lineage will stay in our family for many, many years to come before it weakens. Now, we know from Elizabeth’s diaries that her mother believed she was switched when she was a child. Most changeling cases are similar. What we may never know is
who
was responsible for switching her, or why.
“But sometimes, those involved in the changeling trade
are
found out. And when they are they must face trial in the Seelie Court. Of course, some of those who are guilty are protected—employed even—by the Unseelie Court, and so they escape notice, and punishment. Those who are caught are handed a sentence.” Florence paused and stared into Tanya’s eyes.
Tanya’s pulse quickened. “I think I can guess what’s coming.”
“That sentence is to serve the best interests of both the human and the fairy changeling. Depending on the circumstances, this could involve either switching them back or protecting them in their new environment. But the punishment doesn’t stop there. If any children are born following a switch, leading to a bloodline like ours, the sentence is also handed out to the descendants of those found guilty.”
“So… some fairy guardians were never actually involved in the changeling trade, but are paying for the actions of their ancestors?” Tanya asked. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Florence agreed. “But the view is taken by the Seelie Court that it’s not fair for the descendants of the changeling, like you and me, to have the burden of the second sight through no fault of our own, either.”
“Then what about someone like Rowan?” Tanya asked. “Someone who’s half-fey, half-human? That’s not the same as a changeling switch, is it?”
“No,” her grandmother replied. “But in Rowan’s case, it was still a matter of fairies meddling with humans. Rose was enchanted and deceived by a fairy. It amounts to the same thing.”
“Is there a way we can release them, so they don’t have to be our guardians anymore?” Tanya asked.
“There is a way,” said Florence. “It’s forgiveness and acceptance. If you can truly say that you accept your ability, and blame no one, then your guardian will no longer be bound to you out of duty. But in my experience, you’d be better to keep Gredin around for now. Just until you’re a little older…. I’d wait until you make that decision.”
“But why?” Tanya asked, frustrated. “Why wait if I’m certain now?”
“Are you certain? Are you really? I thought I was certain once, about something. That something was the plan to run away to the fairy realm with Morwenna Bloom. I was sure it was for the best. Now, when I look back, I’m so grateful I was talked out of it. And who do you think was the one to do it?”
“Raven,” Tanya whispered.
Her grandmother nodded and smiled. “Don’t be hasty. You could regret it one day.” She reached forward and patted Tanya’s hand, the gesture less awkward than usual. “Now, how about a nice cup of tea?”
“Thanks,” said Tanya. She watched as the lid to the tea caddy lifted. Two tea bags were thrown out onto the counter before the lid slammed down.
Florence retrieved them without batting an eyelid and popped them into two cups. The back door opened and Fabian appeared, ruddy-cheeked and carrying a basket of large brown eggs.
“Actually, I’ll leave the tea.” Tanya caught Fabian’s eye and gave him a meaningful look. “Thanks all the same, but I really need to take Oberon for his walk.”
While Fabian washed his hands, Tanya ran to her room and ducked inside before Nell, who was trundling along the landing with her vacuum cleaner. She quickly grabbed the puzzle book she had bought for Morag, then, after a moment’s consideration, the compass and scissors from under the loose floorboard.
“Better to be safe than sorry,” she muttered. The smaller objects she tucked in her pockets. The book she hid under her top. She replaced the floorboard and threw the rug back in place just as Nell knocked on the door.
“All yours,” Tanya said, squeezing past her to run downstairs. She took Oberon’s leash from the back door. “Ready?” she asked Fabian.
They fought their way through the jungle of weeds in the garden.
“I’m going to see Morag,” she said in a low voice, as they shut the gate after them. Oberon bounded off ahead, then stopped a little way off. “Are you coming with me?”
“Only if you’ve got the compass,” Fabian said.
Tanya patted her pocket. “The scissors too. After yesterday I’m going to carry them with me all the time.”
“But are you sure you want to go?” Fabian asked. “If Gredin finds out we’ve been asking Morag about the thirteen secrets, he could punish you again.”
“I’m not going to
ask
about the thirteen secrets,” said Tanya defiantly. “But if Morag tells me something more about them, then I can’t stop her, can I? I’m going to ask if she can help me do something about Oberon, and I’m going to give her this book of puzzles.”
Oberon barked at the sound of his name, then yawned and lay down, his head on his huge paws. By the time Tanya and Fabian drew level with him he was fast asleep.
“Oberon, come on,” Tanya said. She nudged him with her toe, but he gave a tired, squeaky groan and didn’t move.
“What’s up with him?” Fabian asked.
Tanya knelt and picked the sleepy Oberon up. “Puppies always fall asleep at the worst times. I’m going to have to carry him until he wants to wake up.”
By the time they arrived at the brook, Tanya’s arms were already aching. They paused before the stepping stones.
“Are you protected?” she asked breathlessly.
“Socks are inside out,” Fabian replied. “You?”
“Iron nail in my pocket. Let’s go, then.”
Before they were even halfway across the brook, Tanya staggered and was forced to put Oberon down. He woke up with a jerk as his rear hit the icy water and gave a startled bark. This time, it was a deep sound. Something was happening.
“He’s too heavy!” she gasped. “He’s growing again!”
And he was. Within moments, Oberon was full size once more and standing on the other side of the bank, shaking water droplets from his coat.
“Running water,” said Tanya, grinning triumphantly at Fabian. “Of course! I completely forgot—crossing running water dispels magic!”
“Do you still want to go into the woods?” Fabian asked.
Tanya patted the puzzle book in her waistband. “Yes. We’re not doing anything wrong by going to see Morag, at least as far as Gredin is concerned.”
They set off. Within minutes the forest yawned above, the veil of branches above them a leafy lip, and the trunks impaling the ground like twisted wooden teeth.
The stench hit like a choking, cloying wall the instant Crooks pried the door open. Rowan clamped her hand over her mouth and nose as it beat them back,
away from the caravan and into the vast field that was its home.
“Let it air,” said Sparrow, pulling Rowan back from the entrance.
They stepped away, silent with anxiety, and surveyed the rundown structure that had been Dawn’s home. Unlike the traditional caravans used by circus folk, Dawn’s home had been relatively modern and was far larger. It was an ugly beige, accumulating rust in places, but it was otherwise clean and well-kept.
Rowan breathed the scent of the surrounding fields. A bee buzzed near some clover by her foot, its drone almost matching that of a tiny tractor in the distance. The sun blazed above in a cloudless sky, but it filled her with dread rather than pleasure. Its heat, beating down on the old metal caravan, was no friend to whatever lay waiting for them, stinking and rotting.
“Stay here,” said Sparrow.
She watched him step up and go inside, the neck of his T-shirt pulled up to cover his nose and mouth, and squirmed at her own cowardice. Crooks hung around by the door, making no effort to keep the disgust from his expression—or to go in.
Tap.
Rowan looked up. A large, black bird peered down at her from the roof, its head cocked to one side. Then it straightened and bobbed, pecking.
Tap.