Shadow Wrack

by Kim Thompson

  “Where?” Willa wailed. “We can’t let it go. It might attack somebody. And we can’t sell it or give it away. Phoenixes aren’t even supposed to exist.”

  Her mom bit her lip. Willa pushed on. “Word would get around, people would start asking questions, and who knows what would get out….” Willa knew this would convince her mom, who was not keen on the whole town finding out they had a mermaid in the family.

  “Can you at least try to get it under control? The noise is making me nutty.”

  “I’ll try, Mom. I promise.”

  Off to the bird expert. She found him coming out of the public library, one of his favourite spots, second only to Hanlan’s Hill. He was frowning and muttering to himself.

  “Horace! I need to talk to you.”

  He looked up at her. “I know I put it in the drawer.”

  “Um — what?”

  “My cufflinks. Scarabs in amber. They were in my drawer, and now someone’s stolen them.”

  Willa couldn’t ever remember seeing Horace in cuff­­­-links. “You’ve probably just misplaced them.”

  Horace’s eyes flashed with anger. “I did not misplace them. They’ve been stolen by someone, and I know who.” He leaned closer to whisper. “Tengu.”

  Willa was shocked. “That’s crazy! Tengu would never —”

  Horace stiffened. “Crazy? Crazy? I’ll thank you to respect your elders, young miss!”

  Willa looked at him in surprise. This didn’t sound like Horace at all.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean ‘crazy,’ I just …” Her eye was drawn to his coat, which was hanging crookedly. “Your coat’s buttoned up wrong.”

  Horace looked down. “You came here to tell me that?” he sniffed but focused his attention on unbuttoning and rebuttoning. It seemed to calm him down.

  Willa glanced about and lowered her voice. “I need to talk to you about the phoenix. It’s acting crazy, squawking and smashing into the bars of the cage, and I don’t know what to do!”

  Horace finished with the buttons and smoothed his coat with both hands, his anger gone. “Look through its eyes,” he said. “Good day.” He turned and walked off.

  “You mean into its eyes?” Willa called, but he didn’t seem to hear. Irritated, she watched him cross the street. How absolutely, totally helpful.

  After school, she swung by the house, hoping to find Miss Trang, but she wasn’t there. She could hear muffled hammering in the basement as she walked slowly around the outline of the house-to-be. The bare plank floor looked the same as it had the day before. The only parts of the house that were higher than ground level were the white beams growing up out of the ground. They were up to Willa’s knees now. The hammering stopped, replaced by sawing. Willa sat down, enjoying a moment of calm, listening to the wind in the trees. She looked up to see a great flock of starlings settle in a swaying elm in the park.

  There was movement in the grass, and a small green hoop, a little larger than a bracelet, rolled toward her. Willa smiled as it reached her foot and unclamped itself. Four beady little eyes peered up. It was the amphisbena, a two-headed snaky-lizard-type creature.

  “So you’re still around,” she murmured softly. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  The amphisbena heads looked at each other and responded with a quiet little chitter.

  Just then a thunk sounded behind Willa. Startled, one lizard head chomped onto the neck of the other and it rolled off, disappearing into the tall grass. Willa turned to see a hammer poking up through a gap in the boards covering the basement. Slowly it rose, the handle coming into view with six little fairies straining to heave it the whole way out. They spotted Willa and froze, eyes wide and guilty. The sawing below stopped, and Willa heard muffled, angry voices. She looked sternly at the fairies.

  “Sarah! What are you up to?”

  Sarah feigned innocence, her eyes going wide in a “who, me?” look.

  “Give the dwarves their hammer back.”

  The other fairies looked to Sarah, who shrugged, still grinning. They let go and the hammer dropped. A great howl of pain sounded from below and the fairies scattered, giggling.

  “Always something,” sighed Willa.

  Chapter Three

  War is declared

  “He said to look through her eyes,” said Willa. “So I’ve been staring and staring, but she doesn’t seem to like it. She keeps hissing and spitting at me.”

  “Hmmm.” Tengu nodded and peered into the cage. The phoenix hissed and he jumped back.

  “Say, Tengu …” Willa went on. “You don’t know where Horace’s cufflinks are, do you?”

  Tengu looked blankly at her. “Horace has cufflinks?”

  She smiled. “Never mind, I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

  “Let me try something.” Tengu pulled up a chair and sat down, facing the bird.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Hypnotize her!” Tengu grinned. He turned and stared intently at the bird. She squawked and circled the cage, feathers dropping behind her. There were bare patches on her neck and back. Tengu started humming a low note.

  Willa crossed her fingers and watched. More humming, more staring. No reaction from the bird.

  “Tengu, what do you know about Belle’s past?”

  Tengu didn’t take his eyes off the phoenix as he answered. “Nothing, really. But I do know that mermaids are flighty and selfish.”

  “That sounds like Belle all right.”

  “That sounds like people too. Mermaids and people are very similar. Mermaids are just … sharper about it. They hold grudges for centuries, not weeks. They live for so long you never know what’s floating around in their heads. They’re hard to pin down.”

  Willa thought about this. What kind of family could she have that included a mystery like Belle?

  The bird was now frozen in place, head tilted a little, eyes blazing as she stared unblinking into Tengu’s eyes.

  “Tengu! I think you’ve got her!” Willa whispered.

  Tengu had stopped humming, totally absorbed in the staring contest. Willa held her breath. The room was silent. The bird looked like a statue. Tengu was swaying slightly, his eyes bugging out. Then one eyelid twitched and he let out an ear-splitting …

  “SQUAWK! SQUAAAAWK!”

  “Tengu!” Willa gently put her hands on his shoulders and gave him a little shake. “Tengu! Snap out of it.”

  “Wha? Hm?” He let out another sputtering squawk and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  Behind him the bird crashed into the bars of the cage.

  Willa sighed. “Nothing. Thanks for trying, Tengu.”

  “No sweat,” he answered with a bright smile. “SQUAWK!”

  The phoenix screeched Willa awake just after five on Saturday morning. To be fair, though, the bird had been woken by the fairies at the window. It took Willa a groggy moment to register that they were there, five little figures with Sarah in the lead, rapping their tiny knuckles on the glass and chittering like squirrels while the bird screamed. Willa moved the birdcage into her closet and shut the door. She made shushing signals to the fairies, but they only hollered louder.

  “All right, I’m coming out! Hold on!” she snapped, grabbing her robe.

  The house was still and quiet. Willa tiptoed out the back door just as the fairies came around the corner. She sat on the back step as they swarmed around her head in a cloud of chatter.

  “I can’t hear what you’re saying! STOP TALKING!” Willa turned to Sarah. “What is going on?”

  “Iron nails! To keep us out!” she squeaked.

  “Who’s got iron nails?”

  “The dwarves,” hissed Sarah, her eyes blazing.

  “Okay. Are they magic or something?”

  “Anti-fairy magic!”

  “So … they’re keeping you out of the work site. With iron nails?”

  Nods all around. Willa rubbed her eyes and yawned.

  “I dunno. That seems rea
sonable, don’t you think? They need to do their work, and you were bugging them.”

  The fairies didn’t like that very much. Willa heard some low growls. She tried again.

  “You’ve got to make peace with the dwarves. We need the house finished. Can’t you just be nice to them?”

  The fairies looked to Sarah as she considered this. Then she nodded slowly, with a sly smile. The fairies flew off in a huddle, whispering and laughing. Willa didn’t like it one bit.

  After breakfast, Willa grabbed her bike and rode over to Eldritch Manor. Eldritch Hole-in-the-Ground is more like it, she thought. As she stepped into the yard and closed the gate behind her, she spotted Tengu sitting in the grass, happily eating a muffin.

  “Good morning, Willa!”

  “Hi, Tengu. What’s this I hear about iron nails?”

  Tengu shook his head. “Don’t worry, I pulled them out.” At his side was a small pile of roughly made nails.

  “Actually, I was thinking they were a good idea.”

  “Not necessary. A truce has been called. The fairies made a peace offering.”

  Willa raised an eyebrow. “A peace offering. Really?”

  Tengu jumped up, showing her the last of his muffin. “Yes, they made rosehip gooseberry muffins. Fantastic.” He popped it into his mouth. He smiled at her. Then his eyes rolled back in his head. He was snoring before he hit the ground.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Willa nudged him with her foot. “Tengu. Tengu!” It was no use. He was out cold.

  She spun around to see a swarm of tittering fairies emerge from the basement and zoom off into the trees. She heard chuckling behind her. Robert was in the stable window, leaning on the sill and enjoying the show.

  “This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks!” he enthused. “Go on! You’d better check on them!”

  The scene in the basement was just as she had feared. Sleeping dwarves lay heaped on each other, snoozing where they’d dropped. The fairies had festooned them with daisies and dandelions, their long hair and beards had been braided one to the next, joining them together in a chain, and their faces were made up with rouge and lipstick.

  Willa burst out laughing but composed herself before emerging. She stomped into the woods.

  “Mab! RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!”

  The only way to get them in line was to mean-teacher them. If it was at all possible to intimidate the Queen of the Fairies, that is. It didn’t help that she could hear Robert behind her, laughing and stomping with glee. That’s okay, thought Willa, maintaining her scowl. I have a secret weapon.

  Mab sauntered up, hovering in the air at Willa’s eye level. Sarah followed, a little less sure of herself, hiding behind her boss. Willa narrowed her eyes.

  “Mab. This is no joke. Wake them up this instant!”

  “Wake who up?” Mab batted her eyelashes.

  Willa bit her lip, furious. She stared Mab right in the eye.

  “If you don’t wake them, I’ll tell Miss Trang.”

  It made her feel like a schoolyard tattletale, but it got results. Mab hesitated, her eyes flashing. Then she turned to Sarah.

  “Did Sarah put someone to sleep? Bad Sarah-pie! Go wake them up. Go on!”

  Sarah smiled sweetly, bowing her head. “It’s already being done, your High-and-Mightyness.”

  Willa turned to see a crew of fairies running the end of the garden hose into the basement.

  “Noooo!” she wailed, rushing over. Too late. She arrived just in time to see the water hit the dwarves, who jumped up, stumbling over their entwined beards and hair, crashing into each other, knocking heads, roaring in anger. The fairies let loose with peals of laughter. The dwarves lunged at them, tripping over each other again, and the wee folk buzzed away, up and around Willa, out into the sunshine.

  After that outburst all was quiet. The dwarves shut themselves up in the basement, and the fairies disappeared into the woods. It was so quiet, Robert grew bored and retreated into the darkness of the stable for a nap. The dwarves are plotting something, mused Willa, and I don’t blame them one little bit. She was starving but afraid to go home for lunch. She had no idea what might happen next.

  It was while she paced back and forth that she saw a dark shape slip into the yard.

  “Horace! Am I glad to see you!” Willa started to tell him about the fairy-dwarf war, but she could see he wasn’t listening. He was a million miles away, his brow furrowed with worry.

  “Horace, what’s wrong? Did you find your cufflinks?”

  He looked at her in confusion. “My what? No, no, something strange is happening. I’m seeing worrisome signs.”

  Willa didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t help but be a little annoyed. Horace’s worrisome signs were always fairly vague, and she didn’t particularly want to hear about them.

  Willa sighed. “Come on, Horace. Tell me all about it.”

  They made their way to the gate, stepping over Tengu, still asleep. Horace didn’t seem to notice him, but Willa tried again to shake him awake without success. Horace waited at the gate as she took a last look around. Everything was quiet. Dead quiet. Please, please don’t start fighting again. At least wait until I get back, she thought, picking up her bike and rolling it through the gate.

  Horace walked Willa back to her house, talking the entire way about bird migrations. Willa was having trouble following what he was saying, but she got the impression that more birds than normal were passing through town.

  “That’s the worrisome sign?” She couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice. She didn’t know much about Horace’s practice of augury, but it seemed like he was always seeing bad news on the horizon. She wasn’t entirely sure that he was very good at predicting the future at all. “Maybe it’s just because of weather patterns or something.”

  “No.” Horace shook his head vigorously. “Something or some-one is upsetting the balance of things.”

  “Someone?”

  Horace looked around cautiously before answering in a low voice. “I’m not mentioning any names, but who has just arrived and is causing more than a little … disruption?”

  “You don’t mean the dwarves, do you?” Willa asked in surprise.

  Horace raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

  “There’s been some disruption, but it’s not their fault,” protested Willa. “The fairies started it all. Besides, you were the one who told me dwarves were trustworthy and good workers!”

  Horace frowned. “I did? Well, just keep your eyes open. Enemies lurk everywhere.”

  They’d arrived at Willa’s house. She leaned her bike against the garage door.

  “Would you like to come in for some lunch?”

  “No, no, I’m meeting the birders at noon.”

  Willa looked at her watch. “It’s 12:35 now, you know.”

  Horace blinked. “Oh! Oh my. Must be going. Goodbye!” Willa watched him hurry off, shaking her head. The dwarves? “Enemies lurk everywhere.” Good old Horace. A little befuddled, but he means well.

  She paused on the front step, thinking.

  Still … the dwarves are pretty odd … and secretive. I wonder….

  She ate her lunch at top speed, not that anyone was around to notice. Baz was asleep on the couch, Belle’s door was shut, and her parents were nowhere to be seen. In a flash Willa was out the door again, jumping on her bike and zipping back to the house. A block away she spotted smoke.

  “No, no, no, no, no!” she moaned.

  Mrs. Hacker flew out her front door as Willa pedalled up.

  “It’s on fire again, Willa! Look!” she called, pointing. Willa dropped her bike on the sidewalk and swung open the gate. The smoke was coming from the trees behind the building site, but to her relief she could see no flames. Tengu was strolling across the yard with a bucket of water in his hand. He waved cheerfully to her.

  “I’m calling 9-1-1!” shrieked Mrs. Hacker.

  “Don’t! There’s no need! Everything’s fine! They’re just burning som
e brush. It’s all under control!” Willa tried her best to sound chipper. Mrs. Hacker narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Willa pushed her bike through the gate and shut it firmly behind her.

  “Tengu! What’s going on?”

  Tengu grinned. “I had the most amazing nap. I feel great!”

  “No, I mean what’s burning?”

  “Oh, that. The dwarves were trying to burn down the woods.” He dumped his bucket of water over a smouldering bush.

  Willa looked around. Smoke was rising from three or four spots, but nothing was actually ablaze. Everything did seem under control, thankfully. Then she heard a high-pitched squealing in the woods.

  “What’s that?” She stepped into the trees, peering up through the leaves.

  “The dwarves have been busy,” Tengu chuckled. Willa stooped to pick up a strip of paper lying on the path at her feet. It was sticky. Willa’s heart sank. They wouldn’t….

  Long strips of flypaper dangled from every branch, most of them with wriggling fairies stuck to them. When they saw Willa, they shrieked in rage and frustration.

  “Tengu, help me free them!” Willa reached up to release Mab, gently peeling her off the flypaper. They worked as quickly as they could, and soon the fairies were all unstuck, swooping wildly and buzzing with fury.

  “You need to calm down,” Willa began, but they had other plans. On a signal from Mab, the whole lot of them rushed to the base of the nearest fir tree. Each grabbed a small fir cone and carried it to the smould­ering embers of the dying fire. Before Willa knew what was happening, the fairies were lobbing blazing fir cones into the house basement.

  “No! Stop! Stooop!”

  There were shouts from below, but what really flushed the dwarves out was the wasp nest the fairies dropped on them. Tengu covered his eyes and Robert whooped with delight as the dwarves exploded out of the basement and stampeded into the trees, trying to outrun the wasps. The scene was absolute mayhem, but Willa’s eye was caught by one dwarf, the last to come up out of the basement. In his hand he held a kind of a sprayer that Willa recognized. Her dad had one at home that he had used on their apple tree one year. It was for spraying bug poison.