Across the grove the branches parted and three beings stepped out from the trees. They were about Mallory’s size, with freckled skin browned by sunlight. The first was a woman with apple green eyes and a green sheen across her shoulders and at her temples. Leaves were tangled in her tousled hair. The second was a man with what looked like small horns along his brow. His skin was flushed a deeper green than the woman’s skin and he held a gnarled staff in his hands. The third elf had thick, red hair woven with red berries and two large seedpods that stuck up on either side of his head. His skin was brown, speckled with red at his throat.
“These are elves?” Simon asked.
“No one has followed this path for a long time,” said the green-eyed elf as though no one had spoken. She held her head high, like one accustomed to being obeyed. “All who might have stumbled into this grove have been led astray. But here they are. How curious.”
“The grass,” Jared whispered to his brother.
“They must have it,” the red-haired elf declared to his companions. “How else would they come this way? How else would they discover the means to stay on the path?” He turned to the three children. “I am Lorengorm. We would bargain with you.”
“For what?” Jared asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t shake. The elves were beautiful, but the only emotion he could read on their faces was a strange hunger that unnerved him.
“You want your freedom,” said the elf with what had looked like horns. Jared realized that they were actually leaves. “We want Arthur’s book.”
“Freedom from what?” Mallory asked.
The leaf-horned elf indicated the border of trees with one hand and smiled an unkind smile. “We will guest you until you tire of our hospitality.”
“Arthur didn’t give you the book. Why should we?” Jared hoped they couldn’t tell that he was guessing.
The leaf-horned elf sniffed. “We have long known that mankind is brutal. Once, at least, humans were ignorant. Now we would keep knowledge of our existence from you to protect ourselves.”
“You cannot be trusted. You cleave the forests.” Lorengorm scowled and his eyes flashed. “Poison the rivers, hunt the griffins from the skies and the serpents from the seas. Imagine what you could do if you knew all of our weaknesses.”
“But we never did any of those things!” said Simon.
“And no one even believes in faeries,” Jared said. He thought of Lucinda. “No one sane, anyway.”
Lorengorm’s laugh sounded hollow. “There are few enough faeries left to believe in. We make our homes in the sparse forests left to us. Soon even those will be gone.”
The green-eyed elf lifted one hand toward the woven wall of branches. “Let me show you.”
Jared noticed all types of faeries, sitting in the circle of trees, peering through the gaps in the wood. Their black eyes glittered, their wings buzzed, and their mouths moved, but none entered the grove. It felt like a trial, with the elves acting as both judge and jury. Then a few branches untwined and something else stepped through.
It was white and the size of a deer. Its fur was ivory and its long mane hung in tangles. The horn that jutted from its forehead was twisted to an end that looked sharp. It lifted its wet nose and scented the air. As it approached them the valley went quiet. Even the creature’s own steps were noiseless. It didn’t look at all tame.
Mallory stepped toward it, tilting her head slightly and extending her hand.
“Mallory,” Jared warned. “Don’t . . .”
But she was beyond hearing, stretching out her fingers to pet the creature’s flank. It stayed completely still, and Jared was afraid to even breathe as Mallory stroked the unicorn’s side, then tangled her hand in its mane. As she did, the bone horn touched her forehead and her eyes closed. Then her whole body began to tremble.
“Mallory!” Jared said.
Beneath the lids Mallory’s eyes darted back and forth, as though she were dreaming. Then she staggered to her knees.
Jared ran forward to grab her. Simon was only a step behind him. When Jared touched Mallory, he was drawn into the vision.
Everything soundless.
Knots of blackberry bushes. Men on horseback. Lean dogs with red tongues. A glimmer of white, and a unicorn bursts through the glade, legs already dark with mud. Arrows fly, burying themselves in white flesh. The unicorn bellows and goes down in a cloud of leaves. Dog teeth rip skin. A man with a knife hacks the horn from the head while the unicorn is still moving.