Airily

by Shay Emms

  In the attic, Burn’s black tail feathers poked over the edge of a box marked for Christmas. Airily coughed loudly and Burn jumped. She wore a shiny, gold garland around her neck like a scarf. Fluppence chuckled but Witter glared

  disapprovingly.

  “Put that back,” Witter said. “You don’t want the humans to miss it.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” Black Burn stroked the tinsel and

  returned Witter’s glare with haughty dismissal. “They won’t unpack this box until November.”

  “Burn, put it back. We don’t have time for this,” Airily said. “The cait sidhe wants the torc in exchange for letting Poppa go.”

  “Oh.” Burn frowned. “So Owlby filled you in.”

  “He did and so did the cait sidhe.”

  “I’m more surprised you met that monster and lived. What happened?” Burn asked.

  Airily repeated what she’d told Fluppence and Witter, rushing through it.

  Burn shook her head at the end. “I can’t believe Josh promised that fiend anything.”

  “I know,” Airily said.

  “I only promised to bring the torc,” Josh said.

  Startled, a flurry of wing beats echoed through the attic as the bird fairies scattered in different directions.

  “Just me, sorry.” Josh chuckled, sounding less than

  apologetic.

  “How do you keep doing that?” Burn scowled.

  “Practice,” Josh said. He looked down at his bare feet and wiggled his toes.

  “Well, now that we’ve all had heart attacks, why don’t you tell us what was going through that fevered brain of yours?” Burn landed on a stack of boxes.

  Airily got her instincts under control and looped back

  toward the boxes of decorations. Witter skidded on the

  windowsill, and Fluppence came down from the rafters.

  Airily was torn between annoyance and amusement. Josh kept them on high alert but seeing Burn make a fly for it was pretty funny.

  Josh knelt and set down a plastic crate filled with toys, including two remote control helicopters, one of which he’d used to catch Airily only a few days before, a big jar of grey powder, two empty squirt bottles, and a bag of balloons with a cartoon clown on the label.

  “We don’t have time to play right now, human,” Witter said with sharp indignation.

  “Just wait, Witter,” Airily told him.

  Josh shrugged off his backpack. Owlby’s potions were safe judging by the clink of glass as he set it down. He

  unzipped it and pulled out the jars and vials, which were now much larger, having grown when Josh had returned to

  normal.

  “We may not have more magic than the cait sidhe, but we do have the element of surprise,” Josh said.

  Burn looked over Josh’s offerings with open curiosity. “What do we do with all of this?”

  “We set a trap.” Josh smiled, looking grim and proud at the same time. “If the Cait Sidhe actually lets your Dad go, then we don’t need to spring it. But if he double crosses us, we’ll be ready.”

  “I can’t just hand over the torc,” Black Burn said.

  “No piece of silver is worth Poppa’s life. Or Josh’s,”

  Airily told her.

  “The Crow Clan could throw me out of the family. I’ll be disowned, punished, or both,” Burn protested, genuine alarm in her black eyes.

  Airily hadn’t thought of that. She assumed Burn was just being selfish and didn’t want to part with a valuable item.

  “But Poppa’s your friend. You’ve known him his whole life,” Fluppence said.

  “Where was the Crow Clan when the cait sidhe attacked you?” Witter chimed in. “We’re the ones who saved you.”

  “And Josh,” Fluppence added.

  “If the Crow Clan wants to punish someone, they can punish us,” Airily said. “Please, Burn. You know Poppa would do the same for you. We all would.”

  Burn’s dark eyes searched the floor. The crow tugged at her neck brace but didn’t answer.

  “If we do nothing, Poppa will die tomorrow. We

  promised to bring the torc. We have to do this.” Airily pleaded.

  Black Burn snorted, and her face twisted as though she were in pain. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “But we can keep this promise if you agree to help,” Josh said.

  “What would your clan do to you?” Airily’s hands knotted in her vest. What if they couldn’t get the torc without

  endangering more than Poppa?

  “I don’t know,” Burn admitted. “The last crow that lost their treasure was shunned. No fae in the world could talk to or help them.”

  “That’s awful,” Witter said, fists balling.

  “That won’t happen,” Josh cut in. He pushed his glasses up his nose and went on, “If the cat betrays us, we’ll fight and get the torc back. And if we lose, we’ll all be dead anyway, so it won’t matter.”

  Burn cawed a harsh laugh. “That’s not a great argument.”

  “It’s true,” Airily said. “You know we won’t steal the torc.”

  Burn fell silent, eyebrows furrowed into deep ridges.

  “Alright,” she said at last. “But if the Crow Clan comes looking, you must stand beside me.”

  “Thank you, Burn.” Fluppence flew over to Burn and hugged her scaly leg, which was as high as Fluppence could reach.

  “I’ll throw in the Christmas garland if it makes you feel better,” Josh said with a glance at the box of decorations.

  “I’ll take it,” Burn said with a heavy sigh.

  “Where is the torc?” Witter asked.

  “It’s at my house, or at least the entrance to where it’s kept is there.”

  “I’ll go with you to get it,” Airily said. “Can you fly that far yet?”

  “I’m not sure,” Burn said. She peeled off the tape holding the neck brace together, then unwound the sock. She flapped in place, hovering over the attic floor. After a minute, sweat beaded on the crow’s forehead, and Burn landed on the floor panting for breath.

  “I don’t think I could get home in less than an hour or two. I’d have to rest every few feet.” Burn pursed her lips.

  “How big is the torc, Burn?” Airily asked. “Is it human size or what?”

  “It changes shape and size for the wearer.”

  “So, I could carry it myself.”

  “Yes, but finding it won’t be that easy,” Burn said. “I’m the only one who can enter the threshold and get past the stupid toad my parents left to guard the vault.”

  “How do we get there?” Josh asked.

  “Think of it as the Fairy Land’s waiting room.” Burn added, “It’s a tricky place. Time doesn’t exist in any way you’d be familiar with. If you don’t know what you’re doing, then when you leave, a hundred years might’ve passed.”

  “Wow. That’s some crazy physics,” Josh said.

  Airily’s newfound hope fizzled. “It’s the border between fairy and human worlds. It takes magic just to get in.”

  “Josh could carry me back to my house.”

  “Sure,” Josh said.

  “I’m going with you,” Airily said. The crow may have

  volunteered in a roundabout way to hand over her clan

  treasure, but that didn’t mean Airily was going to trust her.

  “That’s fine.” Burn sniffed and waved away Airily’s

  obvious distrust. “You can come.”

  “While Burn and Airily get the torc, the rest of us can make plans. Maybe even set some traps today,” Josh said.

  Airily glanced over all the stuff Josh had brought up to the attic. “I know you’re dying to tell us.”

  He didn’t need further encouragement. “When we were talking to Owlby, I got the best ideas for some weapons we could use against the sidhe.”

  He sat down and laid out the contents of his crate an
d backpack.

  The fae took a few steps back when Josh set down the jar of repellant. Airily couldn’t imagine how Owlby brought himself to make it. Even from a few feet away, it gave her a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “So, what’s your big plan?” Witter asked as he eyed the toys with distaste.

  “I think it looks like fun,” Fluppence said.

  “It won’t be fun for the cait sidhe,” Josh said. “We’re

  going to have a whole bunch of weapons ready.”

  He pointed to the potions Owlby made. “I can make some water balloons wi–”

  “What’s a water balloon?” Burn asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Josh said. “It’s literally a balloon filled with liquid. They break open if thrown or dropped, drenching the target in water normally. But not tomorrow.”

  “Ooh,” Fluppence grinned and rubbed her hands

  together.

  Airily’s appreciation for Josh’s smarts ratcheted up

  another notch. Less than an hour ago she couldn’t see how they could beat the cait sidhe and get Poppa back, but now they had a real chance.

  “We make a bunch of water balloons and hide them near the meeting place. They’ll be too big and heavy for you guys to carry, and that’s why I brought these.” Josh held up one of the toy helicopters. “They’re remote controlled and they have a clamp, so they can carry stuff.”

  “Like the water balloons.” Witter snapped his fingers.

  “Exactly. I just need to teach you how to fly them.” Josh held up one of the squirt bottles. “Unfortunately, I didn’t pack my water pistols. I gave them to my friend before we moved. But I found a box my mom packed with spray bottles. I thought I’d fill them with the repellant Owlby gave us since you guys won’t go near it.”

  They all agreed.

  “Lastly, these.” Josh held up a jar of grey powder. “Iron filings from my magnet kit. With these, we can fill up twice as many water balloons with iron-rich water.”

  “This is great, Josh,” Airily said.

  “Not too bad,” Witter admitted. Fluppence patted him on the back and grinned.

  Josh smiled, pleased with himself.

  “What if the cait sidhe attacks you as you leave Burn’s house?” Fluppence asked. “He can take the torc, and we’ll never see Poppa again.”

  “I’ll bring the repellant potion in a squirt bottle, we’ll turn our clothes, and take plenty of iron,” Josh said.

  “It’s easy to tell when the cait sidhe is close; everything goes silent. That'll give us a heads up,” Airily said.

  “Now, let me show you guys how the helicopters work.” Josh took out one of the remote controls as Airily, Witter, Burn, and Fluppence gathered for a better view.

  CHAPTER TEN

  T

  he ancient pine was the tallest tree in the woods for miles around, soaring at least a hundred feet into the air. Around the tree’s base clustered younger pines, no doubt the venerable tree’s offspring. Josh whistled and shaded his eyes as he stared at the top of the towering straight-trunked pine tree.

  “You live up there?” he asked.

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I do have wings,” Burn said.

  Airily giggled. “Her house is a mess too, stuffed to the rafters with shiny junk.”

  “It’s not all junk.” Burn sniffed. “But it is very shiny,” she added proudly.

  “You should’ve been a magpie, not a crow,” Airily said.

  “Don’t lump me in with those bottom feeders.” Burn fluffed with indignation.

  “Ow, ow, ow!” Josh twisted. “Talons! Skin!”

  “Sorry,” Burn said. Her feet relaxed, and she pulled her claws free of his T-shirt.

  They’d hidden all the water balloons in tree hollows near the meeting site. And there were no signs of the cait sidhe in the woods. There was just one thing left to do—get the silver torc.

  “Wait here,” Burn told Josh. “In your time, we won’t be but a minute.”

  “I wish I could go with you,” Josh said, releasing a wistful sigh.

  “Yeah, I don’t let people come over,” Burn said.

  “It’s true,” Airily added, in case Josh thought Burn was making excuses. “I’ve only been inside once, and I’ve known her my whole life.”

  “Plus, you’d never fit inside,” Burn said.

  “I could with Owlby’s roasted mouse,” Josh said.

  “Not happening,” Burn said. “And I mean it. I can’t do that much magic.”

  Josh turned over the empty plastic crate he’d used to carry the sloshing water balloons and sat on it.

  “Alright. I’ll wait.” He slumped into a desolate pose,

  resting his chin heavily in his hands.

  “We’ll be back before you know it,” Burn said.

  “I wish you could come,” Airily added, hoping to make him feel better.

  “Just hurry.”

  Burn spread her wings and headed straight up to the

  towering point of the pine tree’s apex. Airily waved good-bye to Josh and followed Burn.

  At the top, a messy bundle of sticks was piled in the fork of two branches. It looked like any crow’s nest would, with bits of down lining the bowl-shaped depression of twigs.

  Woven throughout the nest were odds and ends: shoelaces, tufts of animal hair, foil, and blobs of plastic.

  Much like Owlby’s false hollow, the nest hid the secret entrance to Burn’s house.

  Burn fluttered to the center of the nest. The branches and sticks rearranged themselves. Airily watched, fascinated by Burn’s rare display of magic. A hole formed in the nest as twigs shaped themselves into a spiraling staircase.

  The steps were steep; Airily hopped down each one. She descended until they came around a bend that opened into the main room.

  Airily stared, trying to take it all in. Tarnished silverware leaned against the wall, and jeweled rings hung on nails. She hadn’t seen Burn’s hoard in a few years. There were bracelets, necklaces, men’s watches, earrings without mates, and a collection of metallic ribbons left from holidays past. Lost brooches and cufflinks set alongside rhinestone cat collars and polished lug nuts—worthless junk mixed in with valuables. There were more morbid collections too. Airily spied rodent skulls, rabbit bones, snake vertebrae, and the canine teeth. Somewhere, in the vast lodge of Burn’s house, was a portal to the fairy artifact.

  “You do know where the vault is, right?” Airily asked. She wasn’t sure she could be much help if they had to shift a pile to find a trap door or something. So much of Burn’s

  collection looked heavy for a sparrow.

  “I know where everything is,” Burn retorted.

  Airily gestured at the branching paths that wound around the piles. “Lead on.”

  Burn made her way through an aisle walled in by a stack of bottle caps and a ball of copper wire. After weaving

  between seemingly endless peaks and valleys of stuff, they

  arrived at the only clearing in Burn’s house.

  The collected junk hid a cozy living space with a long wooden table where, Airily guessed, Burn’s newest acquisitions were cataloged. The table’s surface was currently covered in seashells and sea glass.

  The remains of the Leonetti’s wind chime, Airily thought. She shook her head in amazement at Burn’s gutsy thievery. She couldn’t quell a twinge of disapproval. Airily’s family

  collected only what they needed—essential foods and things fairies couldn’t make. Airily would never outright steal something as frivolous and useless as a wind chime. But she had to admit, it was awfully pretty.

  Beside the table, an antique stone fire pit had everything Burn needed to cook. A pot and flat griddle set atop the metal grill. Above the fire pit was a huge metal funnel that carried smoke outside. Even though the fire was cold, the ghost of wood smoke hung in the air.

  A nest of pillows was nestled in a corner across from the f
ire pit.

  “See anything you like?” Burn asked.

  “All of it.” Airily said. She’d love to go collecting in Burn’s house.

  “Well, keep your claws to yourself. You can’t steal from me,” Burn said.

  “I’d never,” Airily said, offended Burn would suggest she’d take from a fellow fae.

  “If we rescue Jay, he’s really going to owe me. Maybe you two could come help me clean this place out? I need room for newer stuff. You could take home whatever I throw out,” Burn said. “If you want.”

  Airily cocked her head, surprised at Burn’s generosity.

  “I guess we could do that. As long as you toss out some decent stuff,” Airily said.

  Burn crowed a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll have something for you.”

  She turned and bent beside the fire pit; her fingers tapped a sequence of rocks. Airily watched keenly, wishing she could memorize the pattern. Burn spread her wings, blocking the view.

  The fire pit moved slowly, grinding aside to reveal steps carved from the golden heart of the pine tree. A tingle of magic rippled across Airily’s skin. Until the fire pit moved, she’d felt nothing.

  Clever, Burn.

  Airily stepped toward the secret passage but Burn brushed her back with a sweep of her wing.

  “Wait until I take the ward down,” Burn said, “or you’ll be fried, nice and crispy.”

  Airily eyed the steep plummet which disappeared into a well of shadows. Maybe if she had magic, she’d be able to see the ward. “It must be strong.”

  “The best I can do. Which, I suppose by Fair Land’s

  standards, isn’t much.”

  A shudder wriggled up Airily’s spine as she remembered the shadows the cait sidhe commanded.

  Burn reached for her spread wing and grunted as she plucked a nonessential feather. Airily cringed in sympathy. Feathers fell out all the time but yanking one hurt.

  A bright drop of blood clung to the tip of the feather shaft. Burn dropped it over the steeply plunging staircase. Instead of spiraling into darkness, streamers of rainbow-colored lights caught the feather in the air above the hole. Like a

  spider’s web cast in sunshine, the bright threads wove about the feather. In a sudden flash of white light, both the web and the feather disappeared.