13 Curses (17 page)

The two guests threw off their cloaks to reveal an ivory-skinned woman, dressed in a gown of black feathers, and a dark-skinned young man in a suit of leaves. Like Fabian, Tanya’s mouth had dropped open. She had never before seen the two fairies at life-size. They had only ever appeared to her as tiny, doll-like versions of what now stood before her.

“Raven, Gredin,” said Florence. “Please, sit down.”

The fairies acknowledged the invitation with curt nods, pulling up seats beside Tanya and Fabian in front of the fire. Tanya avoided their eyes, feeling awkward. She had yet to become used to the fairies visiting without expecting a punishment of some kind, and neither of them looked pleased to be there. Before sitting, Raven reached into the folds of her dress and gathered into her arms a small brown snuffling creature about the size of a guinea pig. She set it down on the rug before the hearth, where it proceeded to sniff at Fabian’s boots while folding its moth-eaten wings behind its back.

“Is that…?” Fabian began in wonderment.

“Yes,” Tanya finished. “The Mizhog.”

As they watched, a small beetle scurrying across the hearth caught the Mizhog’s eye. It moved surprisingly fast, and with a lick and a gobble, the beetle was gone.

Florence vanished into the pantry once more, returning with a container of something that she stirred into cups of hot water and then passed around. Tanya sniffed hers dubiously. It smelled of herbs and was strangely bitter. She blew on it before tasting, and it was just as unpleasant as she had expected.

Florence was the last to sit. The fairies eyed her expectantly.

Gredin spoke first.

“Why have you called upon us?” His lip curled slightly, as though baring his teeth.

Florence pushed her cup onto the mantelpiece.

“Something serious has happened. Warwick has gone missing in the woods, along with our housekeeper, Nell. They were taken by fairies.”

Gredin’s yellow eyes narrowed.

“How do you know this?” Raven asked frostily.

“We saw,” said Tanya, hesitantly. “I mean…
I
saw. Nell wandered into a fairy ring and was caught up in some kind of enchanted dance. Warwick tried to pull her out but was pulled in himself… and they ended up getting taken away with the revelers, from ring to ring through the woods.”

“How did this Nell end up in the fairy ring?” Gredin asked. “Does she have the second sight?”

“No,” said Tanya. “At least, I don’t think so.” She looked at her grandmother questioningly.

Florence shook her head. “I think she just stumbled into one of the rings accidentally.”

“How many revelers were there?” said Raven, her tone softening slightly. “Can you describe them?”

Tanya closed her eyes and recalled them: the goblin, the faun, and the little old winged man. When she had finished, Raven and Gredin talked in low voices among themselves for several minutes. Finally, they turned back.

“These three are known to us. They are mischief-makers. It sounds as though they are on their way to Avalon for the Samhain festivities, collecting unsuspecting human-folk on their way to be used in the entertainment.”

Tanya frowned. “What’s Avalon?”

“And Samhain?” Fabian added, finally finding the courage to address the fey visitors.

“Avalon is a name for one of the entrances to the fairy realm,” said Raven. “The most famous of all the entrances, and also the most dangerous, for it is the location of the fairy court. It is on an ancient hill that was once an isle.”

“And ‘Samhain,’ ” Gredin continued, “is an old word that means ‘summer’s end.’ It is the night humans call Halloween, the night of the changing of the fairy court from the Seelie rule to the Unseelie. It is a dangerous night.”

Tanya’s heart sank.

“You think that’s where Warwick and Nell have been taken? To the fairy court, for their twisted games and celebrations?”

Raven nodded, the movement causing the tips of her pointed ears to appear through her black hair. “It seems likely.”

Fabian leapt up from his seat.

“We have to do something! We have to find them and bring them back!”

“Sit down,” Gredin said coldly. “
You
will do nothing except stay here and wait, in case they return of their own accord. Raven, the Mizhog, and I will search for them.”

“Let me come with you,” Fabian begged. “Please!”

But Raven and Gredin were already rising from their seats.

“It’s too dangerous for any of us,” said Florence.

Raven turned to Gredin, who was draining the last of his bitter drink.

“We must leave at once. If we can intercept them before they reach the court, they might stand a chance.”

They stood and threw their dark cloaks around their shoulders once more, drawing their hoods up to conceal their faces. Florence walked with them to the door, wrapping her arms around herself as the damp breeze flew in from outside.

“We will return when we have news,” said Raven.

These were the only words of good-bye. Without further ado or even a second glance back, Raven and
Gredin transformed suddenly, shrinking to the smaller size Tanya was familiar with, and, accompanied by the Mizhog, took flight. Tanya and Fabian joined Florence at the door, watching as they flew up and over the garden walls toward the forest before vanishing from sight.

Florence closed the door and locked it.

“It’s not fair!” Fabian burst out.

Tanya turned to face him and was shocked to see that his anger and frustration had manifested through tears. He was crying openly.

“They should have taken me,” he sobbed, throwing himself into a chair. “I could have helped. I want to help!”

Tanya watched, stricken. She had no idea what to say to comfort him. She felt useless, but then Florence drew a chair up beside him and pulled him into her arms. Tanya couldn’t help but notice the ease of the gesture. Such ease had never existed between her and her grandmother. Yet she was not resentful. Florence was the closest thing to a mother that Fabian had ever known.

“I know, Fabian,” said Florence. “I know. But all we can do is wait.”

“What use is waiting?” Fabian said bitterly, his voice muffled by Florence’s shoulder. “We should be
doing
something!”

A loud knock at the back door interrupted them.

Fabian was up in an instant, skidding to the door.

“Maybe they’ve changed their minds!” he gasped. “Maybe they’ve come back to take me with them!” He unlocked the door and threw it open.

Instead of the two dark fairy figures Fabian had been hoping for, there on the doorstep stood a very old woman in raggedy clothes, her patchwork shawl and long, braided gray hair both dripping with rain. Shivering next to her, a plump woman clutched a blanket around herself. Her flip-flopped feet were blue with cold.

“Mad Morag!” Fabian exclaimed. “And Nell!”

“Just
Morag
, if you please,” the old gypsy woman snapped. “May I come in?”

After witnessing Megan’s switch, Rowan avoided Lara whenever possible. Every time Lara entered a room, Rowan left, and if Lara lingered in the corridors, Rowan chose a different route, even if it meant she had to go out of her way entirely. When conversation was unavoidable, Rowan told Lara nothing, insisting that any differences in her little sister’s behavior were imagined. Eventually, Lara stopped asking altogether.

Rowan’s own mind was in turmoil. As well as trying to cope with the loss of her parents, she now feared that James or another child would suffer a similar fate to Megan. The knowledge that the child sitting only feet away from her baby brother in the nursery was not human weighed on her mind like lead. The differences in the child had been noticed by the staff—the hair that grew too quickly and the insatiable appetite—but within days both
diminished and the appearance and behavior of the little girl became more fitting with that of the children she was surrounded by. Soon it was forgotten.

Rowan was not fooled. She knew that it was an illusion, and whenever possible removed James from the nursery and refused to let him out of her sight. Her broken arm hindered all that she did, and she longed for the approaching day when her plaster cast would be removed. Writing the letter to her aunt Rose was at the forefront of her mind, and she was still figuring out what to say that would convince Rose to give her and James a home.

It was the first week of February; four weeks had passed since the car crash. During this time Rowan had spent many hours with a counselor, talking through her feelings, hopes, and fears. It was decided that once she was ready, a private tutor would be employed to school her. Until then, and between visits and days out with Ellie, Rowan lost herself in books. The home had a small library, but weekly trips to the town library also took place. One afternoon, as they walked in a group through the cobblestone streets of Tickey End, Rowan thought how pretty it was, with its crooked little buildings and lanes.

The town’s library was small and not very well kept up. Even so, the group descended upon the children’s section gleefully. Rowan selected several books for James and settled down with him on some plump cushions in the corner, letting him look through them. No sooner had she gotten comfortable than the twins flopped down beside her, with a shriek and a giggle that earned them a scowl and a “quiet, please” from the sour-faced librarian at the counter.

Penny pushed a chewed-looking book at her.

“Will you read it to us?”

Rowan sighed and took it from her. But when she looked at it properly, she shook her head and handed it back.

“I don’t like this story,” she said stiffly. “Choose something else.”

Penny pouted. “But I want this one.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Rowan. “So if you want to hear it you’ll have to read it yourself.” She ignored Penny’s hurt expression and turned away. The truth was that the story was one she used to like. It was about the Pied Piper of Hamelin who led children away with his magical tunes. But now, following Megan’s disappearance, the thought of reading anything to do with missing children frightened her.

“I can’t,” Penny whined. “That’s why I asked you. I’m not a good reader. You’re mean.”

“ Just choose something else,” said Polly, flicking through another book that was in even worse condition than the one her sister had picked up.

“What are you looking at?” Rowan asked, eyeing the tattered pages in disdain.

“It’s about fairies,” said Polly, turning the pages carelessly. “I’m just looking at the pictures—the ones that are left. Lots of pages have been torn out.”

Rowan’s ears pricked up at once. She looked over casually, expecting a twee, sentimental storybook. But to her surprise it looked to be neither. Its dark green cover was missing its dust jacket.

“Are you sure that’s a children’s book?” she asked.

Polly shrugged. “I found it in the children’s section so it must be. It had fallen down the back of the shelves. I only found it because I dropped a different book down there.” She flicked through the pages uninterestedly. “It’s stupid, anyway. Everyone knows fairies don’t look like that. They’re meant to be pretty, not ugly. And it’s been scribbled in.” She got up and wandered off, leaving the book in a stack on a trolley while she searched for something else. In the meantime, Penny returned with another book, which she sulkily offered to Rowan.

Rowan began to read, but did not take in a word. Her mind was on the book that Polly had discarded, but she knew that she should not make a big deal of it. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself. Every few minutes her eyes flitted to the book, anxious to check that it was still there. She held her breath and, at one point when the librarian paused by the trolley, forgot to read. A poke from Penny forced her to continue, and when she looked up again, the librarian had gone and the book was still there.

Then a strange thing happened. The middle section of the book lifted and, as Rowan watched, a tiny woman stepped out of it, blinking as though she had been hibernating among the pages. The surprise on her pointed little face quickly turned to rage. She had been nesting in the old book, Rowan realized. That must have been the reason it had been found down behind the bookshelves. Its location was no accident—the fairy had hidden it there purposely, and Polly had innocently fished it out.