Selfish Elf Wish

by Heather Swain

  “Who?” Timber asks, cradling my head.

  The red-tailed hawk above screeches and veers sharply to the right, then dives straight for the sassafras tree. She swoops up again and spreads her wings, thrusting her talons forward.

  “What the . . .” Timber ducks and covers his head, but I’m not afraid as she lands on the branch above us.

  I look the hawk in the eye. My voice comes back to me. “It’s Clay and Dawn,” I say. “And they’ve got the fox!”

  “Who? What? Where?” Timber looks all around.

  The hawk spreads her wings and alights, screeching as she goes. I push myself up onto my elbows. “But it’s okay,” I tell Timber. “My grandmother knows they’re here.”

  chapter 19

  “COME ON. We have to go faster,” I tell Timber and Kenji as I lead them through heavy snowdrifts and pine trees to a cave around the back of Barnaby Bluff.

  “Zephyr,” Timber says, grabbing my hand to slow me down. His face is bright red and he’s huffing, but at least he’s keeping up. Kenji’s lagging twenty feet behind. “You’re not making any sense. What’s the big deal?”

  I whip around to face him. At first I think I’ll just zap a mute hex on him, but then I decide that I’m tired of zapping people whenever a problem comes up, because I just end up causing myself another problem. But obviously I don’t have time to explain, so I talk over my shoulder as I push forward up a steep hill. “This is my home,” I tell him. “Not Brooklyn. Clay and Dawn are not safe.” I stop and reach out for his shoulder. “You have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

  Timber shakes his head. “But hiding? Why do we have to hide?”

  Kenji has caught up with us now. He bends over, hands on knees, and pants like a dog. “If . . . I . . . had . . . known . . . this . . . is . . . what . . . you . . . guys . . . do . . . for . . . fun . . .”

  “You’re hiding,” I say to Timber and Kenji as I point to the opening in the cave’s mouth. “I’m going for help.”

  “You want us to go in there?” Kenji asks, his face screwed up like I just told him to walk down a dark alley in Newark at night.

  “It’s perfectly safe,” I say, grabbing them each by the hand and tugging.

  “What if there’s a bear?” Kenji asks.

  “We come up here all the time. There aren’t any bears!” I plunge my hands back into my pockets. “Here, have some more jerky.” I shove dried venison meat at them, which they each take.

  “But why can’t we come with you?” Timber asks.

  “No offense,” I say, shoving them toward the cave’s mouth. “But you’re slow and loud in the forest. I can go more quickly and quietly on my own. Plus, I’ll know exactly where you are.”

  “But you said that your grandmother already knows they’re here, so why don’t you stay with us?” Timber asks, dragging his feet as I push him forward.

  This is seriously trying my patience. I consider a hibernation spell to knock them out in the cave for a few hours, but I stop myself. The more time I spend with Timber and the deeper my feelings grow for him, the harder it is to zap him. “Please,” I plead. “Please just do this for me and I’ll try to explain things later. I don’t have much time.”

  “I don’t like it,” Timber says, but he ducks his head and enters the cave anyway.

  “Do you have a flashlight?” Kenji asks.

  “No I don’t have a flipping flashlight!” I say. “Just go in there and take a nap, for thunder’s sake.”

  The guys crouch down and enter the cave, but then just as I’m ready to run off into the woods so I can track Clay and Dawn, Timber pops out and grabs my arm. “Zeph!” he says.

  “What now?” I ask.

  He pulls me into his body. Warmth emanates from beneath his coat collar, and for just a moment it’s wonderful being snug in his arms. He bends down and kisses me. “I love you,” he says.

  I’m so startled that I feel like I’m falling out of the tree again. I stumble backward over a rock, stammering, “I . . . I . . . I . . .” I regain my balance and look up into his smiling but worried face. “I have to go!” I grab my walking stick from the side of the cave, then turn and run into the woods.

  I circle back around the bluffs and slip up into the branches of a tall, slender birch tree. It doesn’t take me long to spot Clay and Dawn. They’re clearly lost because they’ve hiked in a huge circle for the past hour and are now standing, arguing, on an outcropping of rocks on the north side of the bluffs. They’ve set the cage down and the fox paces.

  My mind is reeling. Timber said he loves me! My family could be in trouble. No one knows where I am. Why are Clay and Dawn here? What should I do? Does he really love me? Should I make a run for Alverland to get help or stay here and keep an eye on Dawn and Clay until someone else finds us? Do I love him? And how in the honey did everybody find us?

  Clay and Dawn pick up the fox’s cage and start moving again, this time south, toward Alverland, but I doubt that they know this. I wish I had a good hearing spell so I could listen in on their conversation, but I haven’t learned one yet. Which reminds me that I’m a sucky elf. By now, my magic should be so much stronger, and if it were, I could probably figure out what to do. Since I don’t know what to do, I decide I should at least follow them so if they get close to Alverland before someone else finds them, I can warn everybody. I climb down the tree and move stealthily on the hills, being sure to stay hidden by the trees.

  When I catch up with Clay and Dawn, they’re obviously lost again because they’re making another big circle, this time heading back up toward the bluff. This is good, I decide, because at least it’s buying time and wearing them out. By now Briar should have reached my dad, and soon they’ll be up on the bluff looking for Timber, Kenji, and me. Dad will know what to do. I decide to take a shortcut up through the steep gash in the side of the cliffs, which will put me out on top where I’ll be able to watch Clay and Dawn without exhausting myself tracking them. I head up through a rocky path, keeping low so they don’t catch a glimpse of me.

  As much as I’ve made fun of Kenji and Timber for being lightweights up here, I realize now that I’m out of shape, too. I used to be able to run all over these cliffs and woods without ever losing my footing or running out of breath, but I’m starting to tire. I’m also hungry, but I gave all of my food to the city boys.

  As I hike alone, picking my way over the rocks and ice, I have to smile at the thought of Kenji and Timber in the Ironweed Bait Shop eating eggs. What were they thinking? I can’t believe they followed us. In a way it’s very sweet, but it’s also pretty deranged. I don’t know how we’ll explain this to our mothers, especially because, deep down inside, I know that Briar and I caused this. I don’t know exactly how, but we did something in that dance that made these boys go gaga.

  I scramble more quickly up the rocky path, hoping to reach the top before Clay and Dawn round the other side. But in my hurry, I misstep on the ice and slide. I grab for rocks or tree roots to stop myself, but the loose rocks on top of the ice begin to tumble along with me. I let out a shriek, then clamp my mouth closed, shoving my walking stick into the ground. But everything is frozen solid and the stick slips out from under me, sending me flat on my belly. Kicking and grabbing only makes it worse. Now rocks slide, picking up speed, tumbling over my splayed arms and legs as I try to get a toehold or roll to the side, but it’s too slippery to stop. I careen down the path like it’s a giant slide until I land in a heap at the bottom, curled up against the base of a huge, red pine tree.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” a voice says.

  I look up to see Clay standing ten feet away from me, a sick grin on his face. As I scramble to my feet, Dawn steps around from behind another red pine, holding the cage.

  “Zephyr!” she says with a loud, fake laugh. “You left in such a rush the other night.”

  I’m barely steady on my feet after the fall, and I can’t make sense of what’s happening.

  “We knew if we just ke
pt walking around we’d find someone sooner or later,” Clay says, taking slow steps toward me.

  I search for my walking stick. It’s fallen three feet from me to the right. “What are you doing here?” I demand.

  “Briar told us all about Alverland,” Clay says. “We thought it sounded like a perfect vacation destination, didn’t we, Dawn?”

  Dawn laughs her stupid, fake, girly laugh again. “Any good skiing up here?” she asks. “Or only ice sliding?”

  I move slowly to my right, inching toward my stick, which is thick and heavy and will give me at least a little protection from these two creeps. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “Actually, we’re just here visiting our grandmother,” Clay says, and snorts at his joke. He continues toward me, slowly and carefully, as if he’s not sure what I’ll do. I wish I knew what to do. I don’t think my magic is strong enough to take on both of them.

  “Your grandmother?” I ask, and reach down for my stick.

  “You don’t know?” He narrows his vibrant green eyes and studies me. “You haven’t figured it out?”

  I crouch and lay my hand on my stick. “You’re dark elves,” I say, standing up straight with the stick at my side. Clay is only about four feet from me now, and my heart pounds while I try to steady my breath and figure out how to protect myself.

  He snorts again and rolls his eyes. “Took you long enough, duh.”

  “Why are you here?” I ask. “What do you want from us?”

  He steps forward. “We just need you to show us the way to Alverland. Can you do that for us?”

  I see his left wrist begin the inward twirl. I jab my stick into the ground by the base of the tree and jump, kicking my legs up so his spell will miss me. When I land, I spin around and yell, “Limp fish!” zapping in his direction.

  But Clay is fast. His right arm comes up. “Backfire!” he shouts and deflects my spell.

  I look toward Dawn, to make sure she’s not about to zap me, but she stands still, cradling the cage in her arms while the fox crouches and hisses. Then a snarl erupts from the tree line. We all whip around as a dark shadow leaps from the rocks above. I don’t know if it’s a coyote, a mountain cat, or a wolf, but I don’t wait to find out. I crouch with my stick over my head while the thing tackles Clay and brings him to the ground. As they wrestle, I whip around on Dawn again. I run as fast as I can toward her, twirling my wrist and yelling, “Stone still!” I zap her and she freezes.

  Behind me I hear the grunts and yelps of Clay wrestling the animal. With my stick in front of me and my knees bent I turn toward them, ready to protect myself from either one, when I see what has Clay pinned down. “Timber!” I scream.

  Timber crouches on top of Clay, his back curved into the arch of an angry animal and his teeth bared. When I call his name, he flashes at me with wild eyes. “I’ve got him! You get the fox!” I yell.

  Timber leaps off Clay’s body and runs across the forest floor faster than I’ve ever seen him move. I lunge toward Clay and zap. “Stone still!” I yell, freezing him in an awkward half stoop, one arm on the ground, one moving toward me with his wrist turned inward, midspell. I have no idea how long my spells will last, so I spin around and dart toward Timber, who’s pushed frozen Dawn to the ground and grabbed the cage. “Run!” I scream. “Run! Run! Run!”

  We tear through the forest. This time Timber’s close at my heels. I lead him deep into the woods, dodging branches, hurdling roots, sidestepping snow-covered rocks and stumps. We sprint for at least five full minutes until I’m sure Clay and Dawn won’t be able to follow us. Ahead I see an old sugar shack and I immediately know where I am. We’re only a fifteen-minute run to Alverland, but I know we both need rest. I grab Timber’s arm and pull him into the dark hut.

  We collapse onto the soft dirt ground, both struggling to catch our breath. As our eyes adjust to the rays of sun slanting into the shack through the slatted roof, we look at each other and dissolve into hysterical laughter.

  “Shhh! Shhh!” I try to hush as we roll, clutching our sides, but I can’t stop it either.

  “What the . . . ?” Timber says over and over between guffaws. “What the hell just happened?”

  I’m laughing so hard that I’m crying, but not because this is funny. “I don’t know, I don’t know!” I say. I can’t explain how any of this happened or why I’m in our sugar shack with a small, frightened fox and Timber, who can run like a wolf. And when we finally both calm down enough to catch our breath, we clutch each other and I begin to cry.

  “It’s okay,” Timber says, stroking my hair. “We’re fine. We got away.”

  I try to fight back the tears, but I’m so confused and overwhelmed that the tears keep on coming. Timber holds me tight and lets me cry until I’m all cried out and I can talk again.

  “You were amazing,” I say, stroking his soft hair.

  “Me? You’re like some crazy woodland ninja girl. Oh my God! You were flipping and spinning and I don’t know what you were doing, but it was freaking badass . . .”

  “What were you doing out of the cave?” I ask him.

  “I heard you shriek, then I heard rocks falling. I was worried about you. Kenji fell asleep, so I came alone. I saw you at the bottom of that hill. I tried to call to you, but you didn’t hear. So I followed you. That’s when I saw Clay and Dawn going after you.”

  I let go of Timber and sit up. “Oh no,” I say. “Kenji’s still up there and Clay and Dawn will start moving again.” I scramble to my feet. “I have to get help. You have to stay here. This time you have to promise me you’ll stay because I need you to take care of this fox. It’s very important.”

  Timber starts to stand up. “I can’t let you go out there by yourself again.”

  “No.” I hold out my hand to stop him. “I can take care of myself. We’re really close to my house and I can go faster alone. No one will find you here if you’re quiet. I need you to take care of this little guy.” I look over at the fox, who’s curled in a ball, hiding its snout in his tail.

  Timber frowns but he says, “Okay. I will, but . . .”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I step forward and kiss him. “And Timber,” I say as I push open the door.

  “Yes?” he says.

  “I love you, too!” Then I bolt.

  By the time I get to Alverland fifteen minutes later, it’s clear that everyone knows something’s wrong. My uncles and oldest male cousins gather in the clearing in front of Grandma Fawna’s with their bows and arrows. The older girl cousins hurry the little kids into Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I see Aunt Flora scurrying across the clearing with an armload of dried herbs. “Where’s my dad?” I yell to her.

  When Flora sees me, she drops the herbs and runs toward me. “Thank Mother Earth. You’re safe!” She wraps me in a hug. “Where are the others?”

  My uncles, aunts, and grandfather gather around me. I try to explain everything as quickly and as clearly as I can. In an instant, the men fan out, forming search parties. Some are already tracking Clay and Dawn. Others will bring Timber and the fox back to Alverland. My dad, Briar, and Grove have gone to Barnaby Bluff to get Kenji. The oldest girls bundle up and are sent in twos with their bows and arrows and small bags of signal herbs to the other settlements to warn everyone that we’ve been infiltrated. If they see Clay and Dawn along the way, they’re to light the bags and throw them in the air to signal where they are, then they’re to disappear into the woods and hide. My grandfather gives them permission to use their bows and arrows to defend themselves. Then Flora leads me inside Grandma’s house.

  Fawna presides over a huge cauldron where my aunts mumble chants and toss in herbs. “You’re back,” she says calmly as I charge into the kitchen.

  “Are Mom and Willow here?” I ask.

  Fawna smiles gently at me. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.” Aunt Flora pulls off my cloak, soaking now from the melting snow.

  “But I have to warn them,” I say, trying to
get out the door again.

  Fawna holds up her hand. “They can take care of themselves. Your mother’s magic is very powerful, my dear.”

  “I’ll get you a dry tunic,” Flora says.

  “My friends,” I say to Fawna. “I shouldn’t have left them. I should have . . .”

  Fawna lays her hands on my quivering shoulders. “You did the right thing. I’m very proud of you. Your friends will be found.”

  I bury my face in my hands. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  Grandma comes to my side and rubs my back. “None of us do yet.”

  I peer up through my wet, tangled hair. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?”

  “No,” she says simply.

  I struggle with this. “They followed us.”

  “You can’t control what other people do.”

  I drop into a chair, exhausted. “We got the fox,” I say. Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at me.

  My grandmother smiles. “Excellent!”

  “It’s with Timber in the sugar shack,” I tell them.

  Fawna’s face falls. She scowls. “How could you leave it with him?”

  “Timber saved me . . .” I say. “He’s the only reason I was able to get the fox from Clay and Dawn.”

  Grandma Fawna sighs, then she rubs the polished stone amulet around her neck. “This is unexpected,” she says. She leans down and studies my face. “Tell me everything that happened again.”

  The whole story floods out of me, in more detail this time. How we took Kenji and Timber to the bluff. How I left them, and how I fell. How Clay and Dawn tried to zap me. How Timber leaped out of the trees.

  “I see,” says Fawna when I’m done. She thinks this over for quite a while. “I think I’ve underestimated your friend Timber.”

  “I knew you didn’t like him,” I tell her.

  “You’re right, but there’s a reason.”

  “Just because he’s an erdler . . .” I say, and sniffle.