CHAPTER EIGHTCHAPTER EIGHT
A
irily woke from an anxious dream, her heart pounding fast. She couldn’t remember the details and wasn’t eager to try. Instead, she lay curled in bed and took a deep breath, trying to slow her heart.
With a gasp, she realized why she was so anxious. Poppa. Was he home yet? Airily jumped out of bed and ran to the main room. The kitchen was quiet; the table remained bare, with Poppa’s usual perch still vacant.
Maybe he was sleeping. Airily went to Poppa’s room and knocked softly on the door made of Popsicle sticks. When there was no reply, she pushed it open. His nest was made—the patchwork blanket neatly folded in the center and the
unused pillows still fluffed.
Poppa could've gone straight to Black Burn with more
information. She swallowed the burning acid rising at the back of her throat and went to the attic. Burn slept on her pile of towels, wings tucked at her sides—no Poppa in sight.
The memory of her mother’s death rose—that fresh and terrible pain. It was happening again, only this time to Poppa, and Airily had no idea what to do.
She landed next to Burn and shook her. “Burn. Wake up. Poppa’s not home.”
Burn’s eyes snapped open. “Jay’s not back?” She sat up and stretched her wings. The crow winced; she wasn’t fully healed.
“I have to find him! What if he’s dead, Burn?” Her voice broke and Airily gulped down her fears. “I have to tell
Fluppence and Witter.”
“Search the woods carefully. You should ask Josh to help. He can carry iron and help keep you safe.” Deep furrows creased the crow’s normally smug face.
“I can fly–”
“No.” Burn shook her head. “You’d have to fly high to stay out of danger, and you’d never spot Jay from that altitude.”
“But I can fly faster than Josh can walk. Who cares about being safe?”
“Your Poppa.” Burn put a hand on Airily’s shoulder. “What if Jay was only delayed negotiating with that old fart, Coyote, and you go and get nabbed by a cait sidhe?”
“I can’t ask Josh to run around the woods. What if iron isn’t enough? He’d be in terrible danger.”
“I’ll help you.” Josh peered down at them over the stack of boxes.
Airily and Burn jumped.
“I came up to show you these.” He held up a set of blackened fire pokers. “I don’t know where to get horseshoes, but these are made of iron.”
“How long have you been listening?” Airily asked.
“Long enough. Did something happen to your dad?”
“Poppa Jay was supposed to come home last night, but he didn’t,” Burn said.
Airily was grateful to her friend for explaining. She wasn’t sure how many more times she could say those words without crying.
“I heard the plan. I said I’d help, and I meant it. Besides, that old fae knows where I live, so I’m already in danger,” Josh said.
Airily frowned. She couldn’t argue with Josh’s logic, but she wasn’t sure she should accept his help. He was more
ignorant of the fae than she was, and what if he got killed? She didn’t want to be responsible for someone’s death.
“Take the help,” Burn told Airily. “He’s armed with the fire pokers. You won’t be defenseless.”
Burn and Josh were right. She had no magic. The most iron she could carry and fly with was a nail, and they’d used up all those last night. Airily kicked at a wrinkle in the towel.
“Alright, we’ll search together. Can you meet me in twenty minutes at the cherry tree?”
Josh nodded. “I’ll be there. Don’t worry. We’ll get your dad back.”
“What about your parents?” The mention of Poppa
reminded Airily that Josh had a family of his own. “Won’t they be mad if you’re gone all day?”
“I’ll tell them I’m going to explore the woods. They won’t mind as long as I’m prepared. I’ll pack my cell, a
compass, and some lunch.”
“Okay.” She leaned against the side of the box. Hopefully, this was the right decision. What would Poppa do?
“Awesome,” Josh said. “Give me twenty minutes.” He clutched the fire pokers and skipped down the attic stairs.
Once out of earshot, Burn said, “Good. Now you will be able to fly for it while the cait sidhe eats him.”
“Burn!”
“I’m kidding,” she said. “You’ll be better off with that much iron.”
“He can’t bring the whole set of pokers.”
“No, but one or two may make a real difference.”
Burn’s attempt at humor was more appreciated than
Airily was willing to admit. She felt better having some help and a plan.
“You should go to Owlby’s first, Jay should have made it there, at least.” Burn jerked a thumb at the attic window. “Tell him what we’ve learned. There might be something he can do.”
“Good idea.” Airily hoped the owl might have some
magical way to look for Poppa too. “What about Josh?”
“Owlby won’t mind,” Burn said.
Airily knew the next thing to do was tell Fluppence and Witter that Poppa wasn’t home, but she didn’t want to face their reactions. She wasn’t sure she could hold herself
together. Without another word, she left Burn and went back to her apartment. When she came in the door, Witter and Fluppence were already up. They looked at her, eyes wide and fearful.
“Where’s Poppa?” Witter demanded.
“Why isn’t he home?” Fluppence asked.
Airily shook her head. “I don’t–”
“Tell us,” Witter demanded. “Did something happen?”
“He didn’t come home,” Airily whispered.
“What do you mean?” Fluppence asked.
“Me and Josh are going to search the woods.” Airily spoke to the floor. She couldn’t look at them.
“Search the woods?” Witter squeaked. “Like, for his body?”
“What? No.” Airily looked at her siblings. “Poppa’s alive, and we’re going to find him.”
“How do you know?” Witter’s fear shone from his
dark-circled eyes. “This is Momma all over again. What do we do if Poppa doesn’t come home?”
“We don’t know anything, Witter,” Airily snapped.
“Horrible things happen all the time,” he snarled. “Parents die.”
She reeled back as if he’d slapped her. The truth echoed inside her mind. All the times he’d tattled on her finally made sense. He had wanted to keep her safe.
“How dare you!” Fluppence screeched. She pushed her face into Witter's, eyes flashing, chin out-thrust.
Witter stared back defiantly, fists clenched and ready. They were nose-to-nose and close to exploding. Airily stepped between them. Witter and Flup didn’t fight too often; when they did, they went at it like starving dogs fighting for food.
“Witter! Go to your room right now,” Airily pointed down the hall, feathers vibrating with rage. She hated how sure he sounded that Poppa was dead; the fear was too close to her own.
“Why me?”
“Because I said so,” Airily said, too angry to spit out
anything better. She always thought that was a dumb answer when Poppa said it, but now she understood how he must’ve felt all those times.
“You don’t care! No one cares how I feel!” Witter fled to his room, shutting the cardboard door so hard it bent at the corners.
Airily’s resentment toward her little brother deflated, and dread bubbled up in its place. She had to save Poppa, no matter how dangerous. Airily shoved her feelings down as best she could, letting out a long, steadying breath. If she gave in to despair now, Poppa really was as good as dead.
She turned to Fluppence. “I have to leave. It’ll be alright.” She didn’t quite believe her own words, but anything was better than giving up like Witter. “Stay here and take care of Black Burn.”
Fluppence nodded solemnly. “Do you have any fairy
repellants?”
“Josh is bringing fire pokers.”
“Remember everything I told you yesterday,” Fluppence said.
“I will.” She was sure Josh would as well.
“Do you really think Poppa’s out there?” Fluppence mumbled.
“Yes,” Airily said with more conviction than she’d felt earlier. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back soon.”
Airily dared a smile, and some of the fear eased from Fluppence’s face.
Outside, the morning sunlight dazzled Airily as her eyes adjusted. How strange that a summer day should be so bright and perfect while such horrible things were happening.
Josh stood under the tree with a backpack and two fire pokers hanging from the belt loops of his shorts. Airily landed on a low branch so that their eyes were level.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“Me too.” Josh rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish with his eyes downcast. “Um, I’ve been thinking.”
“What?”
“You could ride on my shoulder,” he blurted. “That way you could keep a lookout behind me and give me directions and stuff.”
Airily gasped, shocked by the suggestion. “I’m not a pet parrot.”
“I know,” Josh said. “I’m sorry. Burn said—”
“Burn?” Airily cut him off. “Was she smiling when she suggested I ride on your shoulder?”
“Yeah…”
“Burn likes to mess with people. According to her, being a trickster is her nature.”
“We should stay close to each other though. I don’t know where I’m going. What if the cait sidhe grabs one of us while we’re separated? Cats are stealthy ambush hunters.”
Try as she might, Airily couldn’t come up with a good argument, other than it was an insult to sit on Josh’s
shoulder. But her pride wouldn’t count for much if she was dead.
She grunted. “I hate that.”
“What?”
“That stupid logic of yours.”
Josh laughed. “Sorry, but my parents trained me.”
“Well, it’s annoying,” Airily said. “And stupid Burn is right. You’re both right. I’ll ride on your shoulder. But you better not try to pet me,” she warned.
Josh held one hand up and crossed his heart with the other. “I promise.”
“Good.”
Airily steeled herself, although she wasn’t sure what for, and flew to Josh’s shoulder. She almost expected an electric shock when she landed, but there was only the soft fabric of Josh’s T-shirt and a queasy sort of shame.
Her claws gripped the fabric. Josh’s shoulder shook, and she bounced up and down. Airily looked at him to see what was wrong. He was trying hard not to laugh.
“Don’t. You. Dare,” Airily said.
Josh unleashed a brilliant grin. “This is so cool!”
“Just start walking.” Airily pointed to the tree line beyond the unruly meadow grass. She fluffed herself, full of
indignation. Thank goodness none of her family was around to see her.
Josh took up an easy pace toward the trees. Balancing on his shoulder while standing in one place was one thing, but Airily nearly fell off twice before getting the rhythm of his stride down. She had to crouch lower but after a while held on easily.
“Owlby’s place is northeast. He lives next to a wrecking yard just off the Road. We can cut through the woods to get there.”
“I haven’t been in the woods yet.” Josh reached into his pocket, nearly upsetting Airily’s perch, and pulled out a
compass. The needle pointed into the woods. “Can you give me some landmarks?”
“Sure,” Airily said. “We’re headed north now. To the east is the Road. If we get separated, follow it home. The Road curves along the edge of the woods as far as I’ve flown.
Further west are the deeper woods, where the other fae live, and a stream. If you go downstream, you’ll come to a town. That’s really far from the House—a day’s flight for us. I don’t know a lot about farther north, but Poppa says it’s mostly farms.” As Airily chattered, they entered the cooler shade of the trees which turned the sun rays into dappled shade.
“I think I know that stream,” Josh said, voice hushed. “It goes through town, and we drove over a little bridge on our way here.”
Airily nodded. “Probably. I’ve never been there.”
“Never?” Josh asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Poppa says there are too many people.”
“Oh, yeah. I wonder if any fae live in town,” he
murmured.
“Maybe,” Airily said. She was about to ask why Josh was whispering when she heard it herself—the chilling silence—no birdsong, no chatter of squirrels, no conversations from the mockingbird fae. Only Josh’s footsteps and the occasional furtive rustle from the underbrush disturbed the quiet. The cait sidhe was here, somewhere.
“It shouldn’t be this quiet,” Josh muttered. He freed one of the fire pokers from his belt loop. The poker had a sharp point and fearsome looking hook at the end.
“It’s got to be the cat.”
“Weird. I feel like I’m being pushed down. I wonder how it does that. Magnetic waves maybe…”
“Fl– my sister, said to whistle.” Airily hoped she caught the name in time. It was harder not to use names than she thought it would be.
Josh puckered his lips; all that came out was a faint wheeze. “I don’t think I can. My mouth is all dry.”
Airily had a library of whistles, but fear drove them out of her head. She gulped. The panic was a palpable force—stronger than the last pocket of silence she’d hit, which had been unnerving. Airily wiped sweat from her brow.
“Hang on,” Josh warned.
He reached behind and pulled a water bottle from its mesh pocket on the side of his backpack. Airily clung to his shirt, gripping the collar for extra support. Josh took a sip and swished the water around his mouth before swallowing. He puckered up again, and this time a thin, high note rang out, breaking the silence. He whistled tunelessly for a minute before settling on something that could generously be called melodic.
The whistling broke the spell. Airily’s fear eased and Josh’s shoulders relaxed. After a minute, she felt brave enough to add her own trilling song to his.
“You whistle great,” Josh said.
“Thanks.” The forest sounds came back. “I think we’re
alright for now,” she whispered. “Keep looking for Poppa.”
“What does he look like?”
“To you, he’ll look like a house sparrow, unless—” Airily choked on the words, then swallowed and went on. “Unless he's really hurt, or you get close enough. Poppa has chestnut hair with spiky bangs and dresses in brown and gray. His feathers are darker than mine.”
Josh and Airily scanned the trees and ground. She
whistled the show me and all clear whistles, hoping for a reply, but none came. With each passing minute, Airily’s already fragile hopes withered. Two people could only search a
narrow swath of what seemed like endless wilderness.
“Veer left,” Airily said. They were getting a little off course, more focused on the search for Poppa than getting to Owlby’s.
“Are you sure?” Josh checked his compass and stopped in his tracks. Airily was jolted forward.
“No way,” Josh muttered.
“What is it?” Airily looked around. The silence was back, and she hadn’t even noticed. Now that she did, an oppressive fear came with it.
“The compass shouldn’t act like this,” Josh answered in a whisper.
He held the compass up to Airily. The needle was jittery, swinging back and forth instead of steadily pointing north.
“Hang on,” Josh said. He put the fire poker down and took off his backpack. Airily dodged the wide strap. She
fluttered, hovering in the air, beside Josh.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Turning my shirt around. This is weirding me out.”
“Good idea.” Airily landed on a nearby branch and
unbuttoned her vest. She turned it around and put it on backward, sticking her arms through the wing holes and her wings through the armholes.
Josh’s T-shirt looked uncomfortable; backward, the neck hole rode up and the sleeves bunched around his armpits. But he didn’t complain as he put his backpack on. Airily alighted on Josh’s shoulder. All shameful thoughts gone, she was grateful to have someone with her.
“Ignore the compass, and go right,” Airily said in Josh’s ear. He nodded.
The further east they went, the better it felt. The air
lightened and even the sun seemed brighter.
“The compass is right again,” Josh said. “Only powerful electromagnetic fields should interfere with it.”
“It must be magic,” Airily said. “Strong magic. The cat thingy must be trying to find us.” Airily shivered and Josh did the same.
“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I didn’t mean to put you in danger. None of this should’ve happened. If you hadn’t seen me, you wouldn’t be out here. This is all my stupid fault.”
“Stop it,” Josh said, voice rising a little. “My parents
always say everyone does dumb stuff, but what you do isn’t who you are. Just because you’ve made some mistakes lately doesn’t mean you’re stupid.”
Airily shook her tail feathers, surprised by Josh’s words. She’d never thought of it like that. Her fight with Witter came to mind; maybe she’d been too hard on him. He’d just voiced his darkest fears.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Even if I’d never met you, I’d be in danger. That cat would still know where I live, and I would never have fairy-proofed the house without you. The cat might not get in the house, but if I was outside, if it was hungry…” He shivered. “It’s better to know what might be coming after you.”
“Yeah,” Airily said. More indisputable logic from Josh. If Burn hadn’t been so wounded, she could’ve made it to Owlby’s for help, instead of leading the cait sidhe to Josh’s. But that was a what-if, not reality, and it didn't matter now.
“Hurry,” Airily said pointing forward, relieved they’d
almost reached the edge of the woods.
Josh picked up his pace and jogged out of the trees. Sunlight warmed her and Airily smiled. She felt lighter than she had since leaving home. They’d made it, alive and intact. Owlby’s ancient oak tree leaned on the chain link fence of the wrecking yard. Airily had never been so overjoyed to see it. Josh sighed and let out a soft chuckle.
“There it is. Ow–er, Mr. O’s house.”
Airily flew to the low hanging branch of Owlby’s front stoop. Josh joined her, looking up at the huge tree. The branch was so heavy it sagged toward the ground without touching it.
“I can’t fit inside.” Josh’s brows knit, and he eyed the
surrounding woods. He clenched the handle of the fire poker. “I have to wait out here? Alone?”
“Maybe not. Let’s see what Mr. O says.” Airily hopped along the branch to the knotted hollow and knocked on the tree trunk.
Josh leaned close to the tree examining the bark. He touched the moss growing on the trunk. Under other circumstances, Airily would’ve laughed. Even through the fear, Josh’s dark eyes shined with curiosity.
The tree hollow faded and a front door appeared. Josh gasped.
“Is that for real?”
“The door is. The hollow is a disguise.”
Josh reached, but before his fingers made contact, the door opened.
“Who?” Owlby’s round eyes grew larger as he saw the human boy behind Airily. “Who? Who? Who!”
She thought he’d slam the door in her face, but he didn’t. Owlby cocked his head and fixed Airily with an unblinking stare.
“Hi,” Airily said. “Sorry to bring a human here. But our friend crow said it’d be fine.” She fingered Burn for the blame right away. Owlby didn’t seem mad though. In a curiosity contest, he would tie with Josh for first place.
“Who?”
“My name is Jo–”
“Shh!” Owlby put a finger over his mouth. His eyes
focused on the world behind Airily and Josh. “Something dire has happened, yes? Wait here a moment. Keep your backs to my tree and your iron ready.”
Airily opened her mouth to ask more, but the door closed in her face.
Josh pulled out the second poker and turned to watch the woods.
“I like your owl,” Josh said.
“He’s not mine. He’s a friend,” Airily said.
“He didn’t seem too scared of me.”
“He’s the oldest fae in the woods, and he’s a native.”
“Native? Native species or indigenous person?”
“Umm, both?” Airily assumed Josh meant the First
Nations, the tribes of North America who were here even before the name. “I'm not sure I can answer that. He’s a Great Horned Owl, and he’s been here since before the Europeans came. You'd have to ask Mr. O yourself. He doesn't talk about the past much.”
“If he was here before the colonizers that would make him hundreds of years old.”
“Our mutual crow friend is really old too.”
The front door opened again. “Come here, young one.” Owlby twisted his neck to check the woods once more,
before waving Josh forward.
Owlby held up a floral porcelain saucer with a brown lump in the center. “Eat this and you’ll shrink enough to fit into my house.”
“That’s not possible.” Josh eyed the dish.
“You doubt my potion-making skills?” Owlby drew himself up to his full height, feathers ruffling.
“He doesn’t believe in magic,” Airily said.
“I know you guys believe in magic, but it’s just not
scientifically possible to shrink a human.”
Owlby blinked and said, “Then I guess you stay out here. We’ll be as quick as possible, but I can’t vouch for your safety.”
“Just eat the…” Airily squinted at the dish. “Whatever it is. If you don’t shrink, you don’t shrink. What have you got to lose?”
Josh scuffed his feet in the grass. “Alright. But don’t be too disappointed when nothing happens.”
Owlby sniffed. “And don’t be too shocked when my
potion works perfectly.”
Josh set down a poker and took the plate from Owlby, holding it under his nose and sniffing. “Smells meaty. What is it?”
“Roasted mouse,” Owlby said, chest inflating with
culinary pride.
Josh’s face froze. “A what?”
“Roasted mouse,” Owlby said. “Stuffed with magical herbs and spices, sauced with a special potion.”
“And you just happen to have this lying around?”
“I keep a few extra for Mr. Coyote when he comes
calling.” Owlby shrugged. “Oh, and don’t mind the bones. Mouse bones are soft and small and add a wonderful crunch.”
“Okay. I’m really going to do this,” Josh said, voice tight. He took a long, deep breath, trying to work up the nerve.
“It’s well done, right?” Josh asked, hand hovering over the plate.
“Oh, yes. Should be nice and crispy.”
Very slowly, as if afraid it would bite, Josh picked up the mouse by the tail. “I can see its face,” he said. In Josh’s palm, the cooked rodent looked like little more than a mouthful.
“Just eat it,” Airily said. At this rate, it would take longer to eat the mouse than it had taken to trek to Owlby’s tree.
Josh frowned at it. He shut his eyes and popped the whole thing into his mouth. He chewed fast, face contorting from disgust, to horror, and finally relief. His eyes stayed scrunched shut the entire time.
After a single dry heave, the mouse stayed down. Josh opened his eyes. “Whew. I did it. Wait, do I have to eat
another one to get big again?”
“Oh, no. A liquid potion will do just fine,” Owlby said.
“Well, why did I—”
The mouse began to work.
“No, no, no!” Josh cried as he shrank. Eyes wild, he
frantically patted himself down in disbelief then clutched at the tree trunk as he grew smaller.
“Get on the branch,” Airily told him. Otherwise, he’d have to scale the tree trunk.
Josh scrambled onto Owlby’s front porch. His clothes and backpack shrank with him, but not the fire pokers. They ripped from his shrinking belt loops and hit the ground. Thunk, thunk!
“This can’t be happening,” Josh squeaked as he clung to the tree branch, fingers digging into the moss and bark.
“It’s okay,” Airily said. “You stopped shrinking.”
“I shouldn’t have shrunk at all!” He shook his head and refused to open his eyes.
“I told you it would work,” Owlby said and patted Josh’s shoulder.
He flinched at the touch. “Magic’s not real.”
“I told you it was,” Airily said.
“Come now, we need to get inside,” Owlby said.
Slowly, Josh stood. He gaped at the tree, Airily, and Owlby. Josh now stood about twelve inches high—taller than Airily but half Owlby’s height.
“Inside, now. Away from eyes and ears that shouldn’t be here.”
With an elbow to the knee, Airily got Josh moving. Owlby held the door for him as he staggered in.
“This must be a dream or something.” Josh stood just
inside the door, wide-eyed, his hungry gaze taking everything in.
Owlby locked the door and turned to Josh. “It certainly is not.”
Airily pinched his calf sharply.
“Ow!”
“Still think you’re dreaming?” She asked.
“A hallucination, maybe?” Josh whispered, not sounding too convinced.
“Call it whatever you want, but remember why we’re here,” Airily said.
“Right,” Josh said.
“And why are you here?” Owlby asked.
“It’s Poppa. Have you seen him?”
“He was here last night, reporting that a powerful fae
attacked Black Burn.”
“Poppa didn’t come home last night, and we know what kind of fae is stalking the forest,” Airily told him.
Owlby’s golden eyes fixed on her and Josh. “Who? What?”
“We think it’s a cait sidhe,” Josh said.
“Burn knows why the sidhe is here but can’t tell us. She said you’d know too,” Airily added.
“Hurry, downstairs.” Owlby led them double-time downstairs to his study and hustled them inside.
Airily flew to the chair opposite Owlby’s desk and stood on the seat. Josh climbed the chair leg and hoisted himself up. He sat next to Airily while Owlby settled behind the desk.
“Tell me everything.” Owlby scribbled notes quickly, pencil never leaving the paper.
“Didn’t Poppa tell you this yesterday?” Airily asked.
“Some of it, yes,” Owlby answered.
Airily and Josh filled Owlby in on all the details they’d discovered since Poppa left.
“You’ve done well investigating on your own,” Owlby
replied.
“Do you have any idea where Poppa is now?” Airily asked.
Owlby shook his head and shut his eyes for a moment. “I think I know what Burn cannot tell you. It’s because of her oath,” Owlby said, eyes popping wide open. “Years ago,
before the gates to the Fairy Lands closed, the Crow Clan stole a treasure hoard from a great Seelie Lord. “Some of the hoard the crows ransomed back, but they kept the most
powerful items—about two dozen enchanted silver pieces. The Crow Clan assigned various members guardianship of the remaining treasure.
“As years went by, some of the pieces were well kept, while others were lost along with their guardians. When the Old World fae retreated behind the gates the threat was gone.
“Black Burn inherited guardianship of one of the silver pieces from her parents. If there is a sidhe fae in the woods, then that enchanted silver is probably its goal.”
“It's here to steal it back?” Airily asked.
“Whoever the crows stole it from may have come to
collect,” Owlby said.
“But can’t you get rid of the sidhe? You’re the strongest fae there is.” Airily gestured at the books on the wall, the
familiar sense of magic tingling her fingertips.
Owlby gave a cold, humorless laugh. “I was thinking to do just that until you told me it was a cait sidhe. I can’t match the power of a noble fae fresh from beyond the gates. A long, long time ago, I could’ve, but not now.”
“Then what chance do we have?” The owl had been
Airily’s only hope, and now that was crumbling. “And what about Poppa?”
“Don’t give up,” Josh said. “We’ll get the treasure from Burn. If the silver is that powerful, maybe we can use it against the cait sidhe.”
“How would we even know how to use it?” Airily snapped. “Sorry,” she muttered when she saw Josh’s wounded look. She hated how much she sounded like Witter.
Josh reached over to pat Airily on the back. She flinched at his touch, and he let his hand drop.
“Sorry,” she whispered again.
Josh shrugged. “Still not used to humans, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“Yesterday I told Jay I would help,” Owlby assured her. “I prepared some items for him to pick up today. Wait here and don’t touch anything.” He left them in the study.
Josh craned his neck to get a better view of the bookshelves. “What’s with all the books?”
“This is Owlby’s magical library.”
“Magic books? Can we come back when this is over? I have to find out how it all works.”
“You’ll have to bargain with Owlby. But be careful, all promises are binding.”
“Oh, my—” Josh’s voice choked off. “Our promise—you said it was binding too. Death curses are for real?”
“I told you it was.”
“Yeah but…”
Josh had no reply for her. She watched doubt and belief warring on his face.
“Dang!” Josh said at last. “How is any of this possible?” He gazed longingly at the shelves, eyes lit with renewed interest. “Real magic…”
“He won't loan them out, but you can ask Owlby to let you read them. Just don’t promise him anything you can’t deliver.”
He adjusted his glasses as he sized up the bookshelves. “That would mean eating a lot more mice.” His face screwed up in distaste. “I'll have to think about that for a while.”
“Here we are,” Owlby announced, carrying a collection of glass bottles and vials.
“What’s all that?” Airily asked.
“The best I could do on short notice.” Glass clinked as Owlby set the bottles on the desk one at a time. “These are potions and repellants for fae of every kind.”
A spark of hope rekindled inside Airily.
“Some are pretty simple.” He held up a glass vial filled with orange liquid and stopped with a cork. “This is just
water and shaved iron from the scrap yard.” He gestured at the other vials.
“Throw one at the cait sidhe.” Owlby mimed a toss. “The glass will shatter, showering that old fae with iron-rich
water.”
“This is an herbal repellant. I found the recipe in one of my books, but it’s untested.” He picked up a glass jar next. The liquid inside was green and thick, beads clung to the glass
Airily shivered and squirmed in her seat. “I can feel that one from here,” she said. “No way am I touching it.”
“Yes.” Owlby frowned. “The problem is it repels all
fairies. So be careful.” Owlby shuddered and shook out his feathers. “Josh will have to carry them.”
“Won’t you come with us? We can’t fight its magic alone,” Airily said.
“I’m sorry, Airily. I must stay and defend my house. If I leave, the cait sidhe will seize it and suck the magic from my collections. It may have gained a good bit of power from Burn's house if she left anything magical lying around.” Owlby sighed and sat on a corner of his desk. He stared at the floor, unblinking.
Minutes passed, and Josh looked to Airily. “What’s he
doing?”
“Shh! Let him think.”
Josh shifted, angling himself toward the bookshelves while they waited and waited. Airily was familiar with Owlby’s odd habits. The owl blinked off-time and stood up. Josh snapped back to attention.
“I think the cait sidhe’s power was diminished when it crossed over. Opening the Gate would take tremendous power, as would traveling. Either way when the sidhe arrived here, it must have been hungry. Not just for food but for power. Power it could get from the souls of animals.”
“The dead birds,” Airily said.
“Yes. But those wouldn’t have been enough to fully
restore its magic. Consuming Burn's magic could bring the cait sidhe back to its full power, just as my house could, or Burn's artifact. If I’m wrong about what it’s here for…well, I’m afraid we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Oh,” Airily whispered. Anger and disappointment stormed inside her. She needed Owlby's help. But she
shuddered at the thought of the sidhe growing stronger.
“Don’t worry,” Josh said. “Burn can get us the silver piece and maybe we can use it against the cat. We have iron and science too. Something is bound to defeat it.”
“But what happened to Poppa? He could be dead.”
Owlby held up a finger. “I might be able to answer that question from here.” He sat down behind the desk and rooted through several drawers. Finally, he produced a folded piece of paper and a crystal on a string.
“There we are,” he said as if everything had been
explained.
“I know what this is.” Josh raised his hand. “I saw one on TV.”
“What?” Airily watched as Owlby unfolded and flattened a map that covered the entire desktop. The map was hand drawn and showed the whole neighborhood for miles around.
“The crystal is called a pendulum, and you can use it to find things or even predict the future,” Josh said. “But it's not a scientifically proven method.”
Owlby studied Josh with a steady yellow gaze. “The young human is correct. I use this to find things. Normally printing materials or people to interview. It’s a great time saver.”
If everyone lived through this, Airily vowed to come back and ask Owlby to teach her some magic. Even if she had no natural talent for it, she still wanted to learn.
The crystal point swung gently over the map. The owl closed his eyes, his right eyelid shutting seconds after the left. The pendulum rotated in a lazy circle. Owlby’s brow knotted and his lips pursed. Josh inched closer to the desk; his eyes were round and eager for a better view.
“Is it working?” Airily expected the pendulum to point somewhere on the map—an area she and Josh could search. But the pendulum swung aimlessly.
“I don’t know.” Owlby’s eyes opened, round pupils shrinking and enlarging again. “I should be able to find Jay, even if he’s dead.”
“Then where is he?” Airily leaped onto the desk, as if a closer look would reveal Poppa’s location. She stamped her foot in frustration, tearing a hole in the map with her sharp claws.
“I know you’re upset, but my map has done nothing to you,” Owlby said.
Her hands balled into fists and Airily crossed her arms. “Sorry,” she said, without meaning it. Owlby’s map was the least of her concerns. She fluttered back to the chair.
“I understand your fear, and I’m sorry for it. I don't know what to tell you though. Jay is… gone. Vanished from this realm. It should be impossible, but there are pockets between the Fair Lands and the human world. If Jay is there, I cannot find him.”
“It’s okay, Airily,” Josh said. He reached for her shoulder but then pulled his hand back. “We'll find your dad.”
“Yes,” Owlby said softly. “You should get going too. You need to talk to Burn and convince her to give you the silver treasure.”
“Fine,” Airily said, hearing the bitterness in her voice. She should be grateful for the potions and information on the Crow's silver treasure, but none of it mattered without knowing Poppa’s fate. And now they had to face the cat fae all on their own, with no help from Owlby.
“Come on, Josh.” She took off and hovered by the study door.
“Yeah, alright,” Josh said. He carefully packed Owlby’s potions into his backpack. “Thanks for everything.”
“Nonsense.” Owlby waved away his thanks. “The Old World fae threatens us all.”
He showed them to the door, all the way assuring Josh his clinking backpack was nothing to worry about. The bottles of potions were spelled not to break or open until needed. Josh looked unconvinced and walked with care.
“If you need any more help, please come back,” Owlby said. As he opened the front door for them, regret shown in his eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.”
Anger burned in Airily’s heart, and she didn’t trust
herself to speak.
“This’ll help.” Josh stuck his hand out to shake Owlby’s. “I have a few ideas of my own too.”
Instead of shaking Josh’s hand, Owlby put a glass vial in his palm. “Drink this when you get outside, and you’ll be back to your regular size in a few seconds.”
“I almost forgot.” Josh shook the vial and peered at the contents. “I couldn’t go home only a foot tall.”
“When this is all over, you’re welcome to come back and visit. Both of you.” Owlby nodded to them.
“You mean if we survive.” Airily marched away from Owlby and out the door.