by Shay Emms
“That’s a secret. How’s Burn?”
There was a short silence while Josh glanced around the rafters of the stuffy attic. “She’s still alive. But I don’t know what’s normal for a fairy.” He gently poked the cotton swab between Burn’s black feathers. “She’s got a lot of cuts. I’m using iodine to disinfect them.”
Airily recognized most of the medical supplies Josh had laid out on the work surface: gauze, bandages, ointments, and white packages of things she couldn’t name.
When Josh finished dabbing the swab between Burn’s feathers, the tip came away red with blood. Airily grimaced. She flew down and perched on the edge of Burn’s makeshift bed.
“Poor Burn,” she whispered.
“Do you know what got her?” Josh asked.
Airily wondered if she should tell Josh about the mystery predator killing birds. That was fae business, not his.
“Maybe a cat,” Airily said.
“There’s not much blood. So, I think she’ll be alright. You should stay with her though. Come get me if anything changes. Like she gets a fever or something,” Josh said.
He gave Airily a sidelong glance, and she felt the back of her neck prickle.
“You didn’t tell me there were other fairies.”
“Please don’t make me.” Airily looked at his large face, creased with worry. “We hide from humans because we must. It’s not my secret to tell.”
Josh’s lips parted as if to ask her anyway. He could use one of the promised questions, and she’d have to answer or die, all because of the curse.
“Alright. I won’t ask,” he said. He stood up and brushed the dust from his jeans. “I’ll leave the first aid kit here in case you need it. And if anything changes—”
“—I’ll come get you.”
Josh turned sideways and squeezed between the stacks he’d built to hide Burn.
Just before he disappeared downstairs, Airily said,
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he called from the stairwell. He left the attic light bulb burning overhead.
She sighed with relief when the door shut. Airily didn’t feel good about her relationship with Josh, but she was
grateful. The situation could’ve been so much worse without him. For some reason, he kept proving to be reliable.
Airily checked Burn’s pulse again. It was stronger now. Josh didn’t know it, but fairies healed fast. It was safe to leave Burn for a few minutes. Airily needed to see if Poppa was home and tell him what happened.
She flew up to the door above the window and let herself back into the walls. The muffled sounds of her family’s voices came from inside their home. Airily had never been happier, or more fearful, to face them in her life.
Poppa, Fluppence, and Witter unloaded their collecting sacks on the kitchen table.
“Poppa, I was outside when–”
“I asked you to have dinner ready.” Poppa sat down. He propped his elbows on the table and sighed wearily.
“I didn’t have time,” Airily said.
“You had all day,” Fluppence shot back.
“Or were you too busy with your human?” Witter asked.
Airily scowled at him. She bet he’d been waiting all day to say that stupid jibe.
“Just listen to me,” Airily pleaded.
“Airily, I’m too tired for your excuses. Just start dinner,” Poppa said.
“Black Burn is hurt. She’s in the attic and needs our help. She crashed in the yard when Josh and I were talking. He’s seen her too.”
Poppa sat up, suddenly alert. “What?”
“Black Burn is hurt?” Fluppence asked. Her face drained of color.
“But how?” Witter’s voice cracked with emotion.
Poppa jumped off the bench and hurried from the kitchen. His tail feathers disappeared through the attic door. Airily ran after him. By the time she caught up to him, he was perched on top of the window frame scanning the atticscape.
“It’s alright. Josh is downstairs,” Airily said and landed on the edge of Burn’s bed.
“What happened?” Poppa demanded as he joined her. Gently, he put a hand on Burn’s forehead, checking for fever, just like he did when Airily felt ill.
“Something attacked her. I-I think it might be what killed the other birds,” Airily told him. “I watched over her while Josh got supplies. There was movement in the grass, but it stopped. I don’t know if it’s still out there.”
“Did the Daily Whoot come? Does Owlby think something weird is going on?” Poppa asked.
“Burn can tell us more when she wakes up. Her color looks better,” Airily said.
“Good.” Poppa checked her pulse, then loosened the clothing around her neck. He unbuttoned her black vest and the top collar button of her charcoal gray blouse.
Finally catching up, Witter and Fluppence landed next to Poppa.
“Is she going to die?” Witter wrung his hands and his voice shook. He looked pained and Airily felt a twinge of
sympathy.
“No, she should recover in a week or so.” Poppa put his arm around Witter.
“Poor Burn,” Fluppence said. She stroked Burn’s raven black hair.
“Josh knows first aid. He’s the one who fixed her up,” Airily said.
“But now your boy knows about Black Burn,” Witter snapped. “Did you tell him about us too? How long 'til he finds out?” Witter’s lower lip quivered.
“It’s not like I told him. And he’s not my boy.” Airily rolled her eyes, tired of Witter’s dramatics. “He didn’t even ask about there being other fairies and he could have.”
Not that he didn’t want to. Why was she defending Josh? She’d had all the same ungenerous thoughts about him. But he’d been so helpful today, and she knew they might need him in the future.
Witter scowled at Airily and wiped unshed tears from the corners of his eyes.
“I think Airily’s right to trust him,” Fluppence said.
“No, she’s not,” Witter said. “We have to move. We’ll never be safe here.” He fluffed up his feathers.
“That’s my decision, Witter. And we aren’t there yet.” Poppa hugged him.
“Look at Burn. Josh made her a neck brace and hid her up here,” Airily said.
“I hate it, but I agree.” Fluppence put her hands on her hips, chin raised. She looked just like Momma had when she was sure she was right. “We would’ve had to leave Burn in the yard. We couldn’t have gotten her inside and out of
danger.”
“Airily could’ve gone to get Owlby,” Witter argued.
“And Burn would’ve been dead by the time she got back. You didn’t see that ripped-up bird in the woods. No one should die like that,” Fluppence retorted.
“What bird?” Poppa cut in.
For a very brief moment, Airily had been proud of
Fluppence.
“Oops.” Flup put her knuckle in her mouth as though
trying to block any more confessions from slipping out—not that it helped. “We saw one of the dead birds in the woods on the way to Owlby’s,” Fluppence spilled.
Airily was sure Poppa was going to start yelling. He let go of Witter and his suntanned face went red. Instead, he let out a long, harsh breath and pushed up his spiked pompadour.
“First, we’ll deal with Burn, and then I’ll deal with you two.” He gestured at Airily and Fluppence. “Witter go get some water.”
Witter hopped to obey.
“We didn’t want to worry you,” Fluppence said when Witter was gone.
Airily could’ve kicked her. Getting in trouble so often taught Airily a lot about how to deal with Poppa when he was mad, and Flup was doing it all wrong. She should’ve stayed quiet.
“I have a good mind to send you both to Aunt Twilla’s house for a good, long course in discipline,” Poppa said.
Aunt Twilla was the second worst threat after wing-
> clipping. Thankfully, Poppa’s oldest sister lived three days away, and they only saw her every couple of years. She was as stern and gray as the three-story Victorian house she and her family lived in. Twilla scheduled everything to the second: when her children got up, when they ate, when they slept, laughed, cried, and played. Her two cousins—Airily could barely tell one from another—both dressed in the same dismal gray uniforms made by Twilla. They drilled and
exercised to such precision, Airily was sure they farted in unison as well.
“Murder your daughters later, Jay.” A weak, cracked voice emerged from the bed of towels.
“Burn! You’re awake!” Fluppence threw her arms around the crow’s neck.
“Flup. The neck brace,” Airily warned.
“Oops!” She let go. “Sorry.”
“What happened, Burn?” Poppa asked.
Burn squinted up at the attic ceiling and touched the neck brace at her throat. “Where am I? What is this thing?”
“Airily explain,” Poppa ordered.
With the most apologetic look Airily could muster, which wasn’t difficult since she really did feel bad, she told Burn what she saw of the crow’s crash landing and Josh’s quick thinking.
“We’re very sorry a human has seen you. Airily has shamed us all,” Poppa added.
Airily glared at the soft green towel. Poppa didn’t have to get that last remark in.
“Never mind,” Burn said. She propped herself up on the cardboard wall, so she could sit up better. “Not the first time I’ve met a human. You guys need to relax a little.”
“But you were seen,” Poppa said.
Burn grinned crookedly at him. “Humans can be useful. Don’t worry so much.”
“What happened?” Fluppence asked.
Black Burn’s smile shriveled into a grimace. “I-I feel kind of tired,” she said.
“Burn, what attacked you is probably what’s killing the birds in the woods.” Airily crossed her arms.
“You need to tell us,” Poppa said.
“Tell what?” Witter dropped into the box carrying a
plastic jar of water. Unbalanced by the water, he wobbled on landing.
“Burn is going to tell us what attacked her.” Poppa’s tone left no room for argument. “Before she makes me call in a favor.”
The crow sniffed and thrust out her chin. “Of course, I’ll tell you. We’re all in danger.”
“We are?” Witter cried.
“Not immediately.” Burn rolled her eyes. “But, yes.”
“Spill it,” Poppa said.
Burn drank her water, and Witter filled the silence with little whimpering noises. Not for the first time, Airily wished her baby brother had some backbone.
“I was at home getting dinner ready,” Burn said at last.
Airily had only been to Burn’s house a few times, but it was like Owlby’s in that it was one thing on the outside and something else on the inside. On the outside, it was a crow’s nest made of sticks and scraps. Inside, it looked like a huge junkyard. To hear Burn tell it, everyone wanted to rob her blind, and she didn’t like to have fairies over.
“I was stirring a pot of squirrel stew when I felt the
magical boundaries of my house being invaded. Not
something mundane fae, like you, would understand,” Burn said.
“Just get on with it,” Poppa said.
“I was barely aware the wards were down when it came at me from nowhere.”
“What came at you?” Fluppence asked.
“It-it must’ve been a fairy. It was cloaked in shadow, but it had the body and reflexes of a cat.” Burn sounded as fearful as Airily had ever heard her.
“The cat fae slashed at me with sharp claws. I just wasn’t fast enough.” Burn wrapped her arms around herself. “It cut up my wings. It nearly got me, but I managed to slip out a secret back door. My mother always said to have an escape route.”
“Why’d you come here and not Owlby’s?” Poppa asked.
“It was a gamble, but I came here because you live in a House. Old fae, from the Fair Lands, are super sensitive to iron. I was hoping it couldn't come into a modern house, too much metal. But I don't know. I was wounded and needed close shelter.” Burn shook her head. “The cat fae—I think it has to be old—felt magical. Like in the old times before the gates to the Fair Lands closed.”
“The Fair Lands?” Poppa looked doubtful. “That’s not possible.”
“The gates closed ages ago,” Airily said. Everyone knew that.
“You’re all so young.” Burn snorted. “The Fair Land's gates are closed from their side to keep us out.”
“I never knew that,” Poppa said. “I don’t think Grandpa knew either.”
“Mostly, it doesn’t matter,” Burn said. “We can’t go there, and they don’t want to come here.”
“Then why is it attacking us?” Witter asked.
Burn shrugged.
“Up until now it only killed regular birds, didn’t it?”
Fluppence asked.
They all stared at Burn, but before she answered, her skin paled again. With a loud sigh, she fainted.
Airily made a frustrated noise in her throat. “Burn, you aren’t fooling anyone.” She poked Black Burn’s arm, but the old crow didn’t move.
“Don’t worry, I think she’s just tired,” Poppa said.
“Or faking,” Airily muttered.
“Should you get the boy?” Fluppence asked.
Poppa put his ear to Burn's chest, listening to her
heartbeat. Then he straightened and shook his head.
“We should let her rest for now. She should be fine in a day or two,” he said. “In the meantime, we need help. Only strong magic will defend us from an elder fae.”
“Owlby,” Airily said.
“And some of the others,” Poppa agreed with a nod.
“Tomorrow I’ll go see some of the woodland fae. Owlby for sure, and Grandpa Coyote. Maybe the foxes. They’ll want to know about the intruder if they don’t already.”
“I should go with you,” Airily said. “The woods are
dangerous.”
“That’s why you’re staying home,” Poppa snapped, his voice hard. “You need to take care of your siblings and get more information out of Burn when she wakes up.”
“But–”
“No buts, Airily. I wasn’t joking about sending you to Twilla’s.”
Airily pursed her lips. They only had Poppa left; he couldn’t just leave them.
“I’ll be fine,” Poppa said. He tried to put his arm around her shoulders.
She pulled away, too angry to be consoled.
“That fae probably doesn’t even know we exist,” Poppa said. “We’re much easier pickings than Burn.”
It was a small comfort, but Airily wasn’t sure Poppa
believed it himself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“W
hat’s for breakfast?”
Airily looked over her shoulder at
Fluppence, still in her pajamas and rubbing her eyes. All night she had listened to her sister whimper and shift. Poppa had left before dawn; it seemed no one slept well after Burn’s story. Airily woke up to make breakfast, but nothing looked appealing. All she could think about was Poppa out in the woods with a super-powered cat fairy on the loose.
Airily grabbed the nearest jar off the shelf and read the label. “Pickled cherries?”
Fluppence nodded. “I’m gonna see if there’s a Daily Whoot.”
“I’ll go. You set the table,” Airily said. Her sister shouldn’t be outside alone—especially a half-asleep
Fluppence, who even at her most awake, wasn’t the most
observant fairy.
Airily scanned the yard from their fake nest. Birds
fluttered among the branches of the cherry tree. Bees buzzed over the patchy clover in the backyard, attracted by the fluffy
, white blossoms. Everything seemed normal.
She flew to the roof where the mocking birds usually left the newspaper. Nothing. Either Owlby didn’t have more
information, or he’d run out of printing supplies.
Airily thought about scouting the backyard. She could do a quick fly-over, just to be sure nothing lurked at the edge of the property. But Poppa's objections echoed in her head.
Then she noticed a tiny white square poking from the grass. The book. She’d forgotten all about it and must have dropped it when Burn crashed. Fluppence would love the book. Airily swooped down, grabbed it, and flew back to the nest.
Fluppence waited for her in the hall. “Any luck?”
“Sort of,” Airily teased. “No Daily Whoot. But there is this.” Airily whipped the book from behind her back.
“Whoa! What is it?” Fluppence made grabby hands but Airily held it out of her sister’s reach.
“Josh made it with a computer. He shrank down the first chapter of a real book.”
Fluppence snatched it and read the cover. “Wow, I always wondered how TVs worked.”
“It gets better. The pages are blank on one side.”
Eyes widening, Fluppence opened the book. Airily thought Fluppence might faint from joy.
“I take it all back.” Fluppence hugged the chapter to her chest.
“Take what back?”
Fluppence turned pink. “While collecting yesterday, Witter and I were so mad at you. W-we said awful things. But that boy helped Burn and made this!” She stroked the booklet as if it were her pet. “Maybe humans aren’t so bad.”
“Not all humans,” Airily said, glad for her sister’s
forgiveness. “But I got really, really lucky. Josh’s first thought was to put me through science experiments. He changed his mind when he found out I was more like a person, and not a new bird species. Someone else might not have cared. I should’ve been more careful and I’m sorry I got caught.”
“It worked out, I guess. I don’t think any of us will forget this though.”
“I suppose not.” Airily’s cheeks burned. She wasn’t sure she’d be so forgiving if Flup or Witter had been caught. She would’ve been angry they’d been so stupid and gotten
themselves into danger.
“I’m going to take Burn some breakfast,” Airily said.