“So, are you saying that might be why the banshee’s not in my parents’ journals? That’s why they’ve never seen her?”
Mack slowed down to let Nula catch up. She cocked her head at Poppy. “Is that what I’m saying? I just thought maybe that’s why she was so aggressive—she was there by accident. That maybe it wasn’t her gravestone at all.”
Mack interrupted. “What, like she fell through from somewhere else?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” A wicked grin spread over Nula’s face. She shot a look at Mack. “We could walk by there and find out.”
“No way,” Poppy said.
“Umm, no,” Mack said at the same time.
Nula laughed. “Anyway, there are stones all along the edge of the wood if you know where to look,” she interjected. “But there are some really old ones in the deep … and I guess in other parts of the wood too.”
The sun was above them, beating down through the trees, and Poppy stopped to catch her breath. She watched a purple and neon-blue tentacular as it bent long arms to its mouth one at a time, wiping them clean of the pollen that dusted the air.
Poppy’s throat felt raw and sweat dripped into her eyes. They had come around a second bend in the river. If they left the Grimwood here, just beyond the edge of the forest, she thought they’d come to Golden Hollow. It was as good a time as any to rest a minute.
A bead of sweat ran down her back. “So … they’re landmarks to keep you from getting lost? It would be cool if there was a map of them. If someone can figure out how the magic works, they could use them to get around.” She leaned against a birch and lifted her canteen, guzzling the cool water, then handed it to Nula. Mack had his own, and she knew he was happy to share with Dog.
Nula blew a raspberry. “They might keep you from getting yourself lost, but that doesn’t mean they keep the Grimwood from getting you lost.” She lifted the canteen and took a sip. “And who knows if you’d get back in one piece.” She paused, then shot Poppy a grin. “Might be fun.”
Suddenly, Mack froze, his posture so sharp that the rest of them froze too. The elf was listening so hard Poppy could feel it—danger, acute and tangible. A bolt of adrenaline ran down her back.
“I hear footsteps,” Mack mouthed, pointing down to where his toes dug into the soil. “And I think I hear voices.”
Nula shifted. “I don’t hear anything except—”
And then the tree behind her exploded in flame.
Dog started barking, all three heads wild with fury and fear, but before anyone else could react, a whistling sound raced through the trees. Another tree burst into fire.
“Let’s go!” Poppy called, and ran toward the river. Mack was by her side in an instant. “Where’s Nula?” she asked.
“Bird,” Mack said, careening into her as a tree to his right blew up. They toppled to the ground, Dog barking and lunging to tug at their sleeves.
Poppy stumbled to her feet and helped Mack up. They ran again. The air was full of whistles now, each followed by a tree exploding.
Heat filled the air, and something sharp hit Poppy’s cheek. She cried out.
Crackling sounds surrounded them as another impact knocked them down. The soil began to sizzle, turning dark behind them, the color seeping over the ground toward them, withering the plants. A sparkling black thorn tree pushed out of the earth, twisting into itself. The fire around it went out.
“Look out!” Poppy cried and scuttled back, tugging Mack with her.
Poppy’s cheek stung. She lifted her hand and it came away red.
Nula appeared a few feet away, deeper in the wood. “This way!” she called, waving them on. “Hurry!”
They stumbled to their feet and raced for Nula.
They had only gone a few steps when Poppy heard a whooshing sound, followed by more sizzling. She skidded to a stop, turning back to look.
Her mouth fell open. “Mack!” she called forward. “Mack, look!”
He spun around in time to see thorn trees rising next to each of the burning trees.
Everywhere the black soil touched, the ground sizzled and crackled, plumes of dark smoke shot into the air—and the fire went out.
The normal trees blackened and crumbled like charcoal. A grove of thorn trees had emerged, fully grown and darkly sparkling. The fire was gone, but the burnt trees were withering—turning brown and falling to ash.
Poppy’s throat tightened as the giant maple tree Mack had leaned on blackened and died.
Mack stood behind her, with one hand on her shoulder. “The thorn trees protect the Grimwood. They always have.”
Nula, who had become the small blue bird again, perched on his shoulder.
“Thorns!” Poppy swore. “What was that? Where did those fires come from? They … they shot through the air.” She looked at Mack. “Have you seen that before? Was it lightning?”
“No. I don’t know,” Mack said in a low voice.
“Was that … it seemed like an attack. Did someone just attack us?”
Mack pressed his lips together. “I don’t know. I heard those footsteps, but … I don’t think so … maybe.” He dug his toes into the dirt. “Something doesn’t feel right though. Let’s get out of here,” he added.
“Agreed.”
They moved west as fast as they could. No one spoke a word. It was as if any sound might shatter everything that remained.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The sun was starting to set. As the light turned golden, Poppy thought of her house, a picture of it flashing in her mind, gleaming in the morning sunshine, the roots turned warm as honey. The image made her heart skip a beat.
For the first time, she missed it. It was true, she had been lonely there, but the thought of Jute, there by himself with no one to look after, made her heart ache. He must be worried sick. Her parents’ faces flashed in her mind. She could see her mother bent over a book, with her hair wild from her pushing her hands into it. She remembered an image of her father, stirring a pot of some potion in the lab, his thousand-yard stare making it clear his mind was elsewhere. They weren’t around much, but they were hers, and she wanted them back—all of them, together.
Poppy knelt down and cuddled Dog’s three heads. “Maybe I should have left you at home with Jute,” she said, pressing her face into Eta’s, then Two’s, and finally Brutus’s. Predictably, he slobbered her cheek. Mack laughed as she stood to scrub at it with her sleeve.
Mogwen birds sang choruses from the treetops, and though the scent of smoke clung to her clothes and hair, she could still smell pine sap and wild honeysuckle in the air.
The trees were thick, forcing them to walk single file. Nula led the way.
They’d been walking for an hour without saying much when the trees opened up a little, and Mack had the space to walk next to Poppy and Nula again. “I was always told the noble Fae didn’t think much of pooka. I mean, they call you the lesser Fae,” he said. “How did you meet them anyway?”
Nula’s tail whipped back and forth. “I’m just lucky. I met them by chance and … they think I’m different—special. They might believe most of us are lesser, but they’ll talk to me. For sure.”
He exchanged a look with Poppy. “Special how?” he asked.
Nula blushed such a dark blue that her cheeks looked bruised. “They didn’t go into details. They like me. That’s all.”
Mack gave a terse “huh.”
“Is it much farther?” Poppy asked.
Nula sniffed, and stroked Brutus’s ears as she walked. “We should reach the Rowan Gate before too long—that’s the entrance to the queen’s realm.” She peered up at the treetops. “They might even be watching us already.”
Mack peered into the trees. “Be careful when we get there, Poppy. Watch what you say.”
“That’s true.” Nula confirmed. “Every word matters with the faeries.” She lifted her chin. “That’s their integrity.”
“Integrity is one way to put it.” Mack scowled. “Nasty piece of work is ano
ther. Just be careful what you agree to, okay? Every word counts, so think before you talk, and don’t get creative.”
Poppy almost snapped that she always thought before she spoke, but one look at Mack’s face held her back. He was worried for real. She could tell from the way his eyebrows crumpled together at the bridge of his nose. “Okay,” she agreed.
He shoved his hands into his pockets as if he couldn’t think what else to do with them. “What are you going to trade? You’ll have to give them something for information about your parents—or for anything they know about the Soul Jar.”
Nula startled.
Poppy gave him a blank look.
“You do know they’re not going to just … offer it to you for free, right? These are Fae we’re talking about.”
Poppy’s cheeks warmed. There was only one thing of value that she had with her now. Her thoughts turned to the little gold locket hanging around her neck. She reached up to touch it, rubbing its surface gently.
Mack’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of it. “Are you sure?”
There was a pang behind her ribs, but that was all. She wished she’d been able to keep it with her longer—that she had worn it more—but she knew what had to be done. She reached her hands around and moved her ponytail, unclasping the necklace her parents had given her.
“This should do it, don’t you think?”
Mack looked to Nula. “Will it?”
It was Nula’s turn to blush. “Oh, sure. Gold works fine. It’s all a matter of … it’s all a matter of what they want. I—sorry, I probably should have mentioned they’d be wanting payment.”
Poppy traded looks with Mack again. Nula was acting strangely. Probably just nervous, despite her proclaimed confidence. Poppy figured there was a good chance Nula didn’t really know what she was doing any more than she and Mack did. She quickly pried the little pictures out of her locket and zipped them safely into her pocket.
Poppy turned to ask Nula if something was bothering her, but before she could, she caught sight of something in the distance. “Is that—”
Nula gave her a glorious smile. “That’s the gate into the Fae realm,” she confirmed.
It was much bigger than Poppy expected. Two enormous trees soared up into an archway draped in clusters of red berries. Beams of sunlight shot to the ground all around the gate in a golden circle, which cast the rest of the woods into shadow.
She scanned the trees around them. There was nothing there to see except the occasional Mogwen, but the sense that they were being watched grew, prickling at her skin. As they approached, she saw that two guards stood to either side of the arch, legs stiff and faces stern. Their black armor was shot through with silver designs that shone coldly in the sun. As they got closer, Poppy spotted more guards in the trees nearby.
Their skin was shadow blue—darker than Nula’s, and their fine, sharp features, together with the dark circles under their eyes made them look about as friendly as a punch in the nose. They all had jet-black braids that matched the shadows stretching under their eyes and down their cheeks like tears. Each had a tall silver pike at their side. Poppy’s mouth went dry as they got closer, but the guards didn’t even twitch, and for a moment she wondered if they were real. Nula pushed past Mack and Poppy to approach them. The guard on the left frowned as the pooka raised up on her toes to whisper in his ear.
Nula pointed toward Poppy, then turned back to the guard, who didn’t acknowledge she had said anything at all.
Nula frowned and leaned in again, this time pointing at Poppy and Dog. The guard’s dark eyes grew hard and bright—the only sign that he had heard her.
Nula harrumphed and stomped to the other guard. “She’ll want to see me,” Poppy heard her say as she stuck one fist on her hip. “I’m telling you.”
The second guard’s eyes shifted to Mack. Mack drew himself up to look his biggest. “You’re not Fae,” the guard to the right of the gateway said in a voice that was warmer than expected, considering the coldness of her expression.
Nula’s other fist rose to her hip. “I—I am! I’m lesser Fae. But believe me, the queen is going to want what we have to offer.”
“No.”
Nula stepped back, a look of shock settling on her face. “No? But—”
The male guard smirked. “We have strict orders not to—”
“Let in nobodies,” the female guard finished.
Nula closed her mouth, the skin along her cheekbones turning a deep blue.
Brutus snarled. Mack nudged Poppy with his elbow.
Poppy cleared her throat. “I, um, have gold to trade,” she offered. “For information.”
“Just tell her Nula’s here.” Nula’s hands came off her hips and twisted in front of her. “Tell her. She’ll want to see me.”
“Why would she want to see you?”
“I—she just will. She—” Nula whispered something else in the male guard’s ear. Poppy could practically hear Mack scowl.
“I don’t believe you,” the guard said.
“You better listen to her,” Poppy called. “They like her, you know. You’re going to get in big trouble for talking to her like that.”
The guard rolled his eyes at her, and Poppy sent him a look that would peel paint. Then, while Nula continued to argue with both guards, Poppy studied the gate. It didn’t really seem like much of a barrier—more symbolic. Maybe they could just sneak around it while the guards were distracted. She nudged Mack and stepped toward the rowan trees.
Mack shook his head, reaching out with his hand low to try to pull her back. Poppy sidestepped and took another step toward the gate. There was a whistling sound and two arrows plunked into the ground just in front of Poppy’s feet.
Poppy swallowed and stepped back to stand by Mack.
Nula, meanwhile, was showing signs of having a fit. “I’ll find a way to tell her I was here! And when she gets word of what you called me, she’s going to—she’s going to turn you both into newts.”
“We have our orders,” the male guard snarled. “Do your worst, pooka.”
Nula stood completely still for the time it took Poppy to blink, then—zimpf—a little white weasel disappeared through the gate.
“I’ll skin you for that,” he shouted after her, then exchanged a look with the other guard.
“Think the queen will come?” the female asked in a low voice.
“Doubt it. That pooka was lying.”
“All I know is you better hope she doesn’t bring the queen with her. If she was lying, you just let the pooka get past you into the realm. If she wasn’t lying, you should have taken them in under guard. Either way, the queen will be none too pleased with you.”
“And what were you doing, might I ask, while I was—”
“I’m just saying.”
Poppy leaned toward Mack. “Did she go to get the queen?”
Mack stared in the direction Nula had disappeared. “I just hope she’s right about them liking her.”
Poppy tightened her ponytail and thought. The Fae guards stood unmoving, but she could feel others, watching from the trees.
It seemed like ages, but couldn’t have been more than a few excruciating minutes until a whoosh of feathers caught Poppy’s eye.
Nula was back, looking like she’d flown through a thorn bush. Her expression was orbidding. Whatever had happened, the pooka hadn’t come out on top.
Poppy opened her mouth to ask what had happened, but another look at Nula’s stormy face changed her mind. The pooka would tell them when she was ready. An image of her mother flashed through Poppy’s thoughts. She was sketching a faery at her desk while Poppy watched. She could even hear her mother’s voice, clear and bright. There are three things faeries can’t resist … a rarity, a gamble, and a riddle. They will try to deny it, of course. They always obscure the truth, but in the end, they’ll give in. They are dangerous—very—but they always keep their word. Poppy cleared her throat. “The faeries … they think they’re pret
ty smart, right?”
Mack’s eyes narrowed as if he knew she was up to something. “They think they’re the smartest—the best of the best in every way.”
Nula kicked a tree.
“So they’re proud,” Poppy went on, her eyes pinned on Nula. “And … they like to take risks?”
Mack nodded. “What are you getting at?”
Poppy didn’t answer. Instead she strode toward the guards. They straightened. “So,” Poppy began. “I’ve heard faeries know everything there is to know, but I don’t think I believe it. You don’t seem so smart. So, I think…” She paused. “I think I can outsmart you.”
“Poppy,” Mack hissed.
She swished her hand at him. “Here’s my challenge. Answer my riddle correctly and we’ll go away … but if you can’t answer it correctly, then you have to let us through.”
The female guard scoffed. “As if any human question could trouble us.”
“Why should we?” the other guard said at the same time.
Mack appeared at her side, glowering.
“No reason,” Poppy admitted. “But if you don’t … I’ll know you can’t.”
“What do we gain should we win?”
Poppy hesitated, then bent to dig in her pack. A smirk danced across her face as she held up … “We’re almost out of apples. But I’ll spare this one, if you answer correctly.”
The guards looked at each other.
Poppy turned the fruit so that the sunlight gleamed against its pink-red skin. “Beth has the juiciest … the most luscious apples.” She raised an eyebrow at them. “You don’t get too many of these in the deep … do you?”
The female snorted. “Fine,” she said. “Ask your riddle. It will be amusing to see you try.”
“And if you can’t answer, you’ll let us in. Right?”
The male guard relaxed, a tight sneer working its way across his face. “As you say.”
Mack stepped back. Poppy could feel the disapproval radiating off him, but what else could she do? Nula had struck out. She had to at least try. Her parents were counting on her.
“Good,” she said to the guards, raising her hands to her hips. “Here’s my riddle. Only one color, but rarely one size. Stuck at the bottom, but easily flies. Present in sun, but never in rain. It does no harm, and feels no pain.”
The Edge of Strange Hollow Page 11