Moon Spun (26 page)

As we drew closer to the moat, I understood why. With Hawk’s binocular vision, he’d spotted the person huddled next to the castle long before I could. Melia. So far, she was alone. But, within seconds, the toadlings would be pouring out of the castle. When Hawk began plummeting toward the ground, my heart sank. What chance did the three of us have against Phaedra’s fighting force?

“Ryker, no!” I screamed. “If you think I can get us out of this mess, you’re wrong. I tried to summon Luminata. It didn’t work. Please, just go to the forest. We’ll figure out a way to get Melia out. Heck, she can probably get herself out. She’s very resourceful. Remember? You’re the one who told me that.”

Hawk paid me no mind. Not even a blink or a squawk. We skidded to a stop next to Melia.

“Hurry,” I yelled. “Jump on before the toadlings come.”

Melia just shook her head. “He can’t carry us both.” She walked over to us. “Hawk, take Avalon 377

to safety. I’ll be fine.”

Hawk shook his head and threw a protective wing over Melia. No way was that bird going to leave his queen.

My mind raced, trying to come up with a solution. Time was running out. “Here’s what we’ll do,”

I told Melia. “Hawk flies you out. I’ll find someplace to hide until he comes back to get me.” Of course, by then, he wouldn’t be able to come back because the place would be crawling with toadlings. No matter. I’d figure out some way to survive.

“I can’t leave you here,” Melia cried, not budging.

“Yes you can.” I practically threw her onto Hawk’s back. “Go!” I screamed at the big bird. “I’ll be fine.”

With one last look over his shoulder, he took a few running steps and flapped his wings.

“Avalon!” Melia called. “Go to the moat. Uncle Davey will carry you across.”

I gave an involuntary shudder. Uncle Davey didn’t like me. If he chose not to eat me, he might offer me as a human sacrifice to the hinkey punks. But really, what other choice did I have?

Turned out it didn’t matter. Hawk had barely pushed off the ground when the toadlings swarmed out of the castle, followed by Phaedra who looked mad enough to spit bullets. My original plan was to duck back into the castle. Clearly, that was no longer an option. I sprinted toward the moat, hoping Uncle Davey was lurking there. A spear whizzed by my ear.

“Do not let them escape!” Phaedra screamed.

Suddenly the air was filled with flying spears. No place to run. No place to hide. No sign of Uncle Davey, Thorndyke or the sprites. My choices weren’t good. Jump in the stagnant water of the moat, become a human shish kabob or surrender. I held my nose and prepared to jump. A shrill scream of agony split the air. I spun away from the moat to see Hawk plummeting toward the ground, one wing totally useless and covered with blood. When he crashed to earth, Melia flew through the air and landed on her back. She rolled to her hands and knees, gasping for breath. A triumphant cheer arose from the toadlings.

I ran toward Hawk and Melia, fumbling in the pouch for the moon missiles. The toadlings were closing in, still chortling with glee. Strangely, none of them bothered to retrieve their spears. I still had Ryker’s dagger and a handful of moon missiles. If they wanted Hawk, they would to kill me first. I was ready to kick some toadling ass.

Melia was bent over Hawk, waving her hands and muttering some sort of incantation. I jumped in front of Hawk, touched the moon missiles to the moonstone pendant and yelled at the head toadling, “Back off, frog face! I want to talk to Phaedra.”

The toadling’s face twisted with contempt. He kept right on coming. Trembling, I made myself wait until he got within range and then zinged a moon missile at his ugly toad head. It struck him with a sizzle and pop. Down he went!

“Yes!” I yelled, dancing around like I’d gone stark raving mad. I waved the dagger. “Come and get it! Who’s next?”

That’s when I found out the toadlings didn’t need their spears.

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Chapter Thirty Two

Who knew toadlings could spit? Not only could they spit, but they did so with great accuracy and from a considerable distance away. My first clue? A glob of pea green toadling spit splattered against my upraised arm, burning like holy hell.

I shrieked with pain. The dagger dropped from my hand. I scrambled after it. Melia sprang up and drew her sword fern. When the sun hit it, I could see it was no longer a plant, but a sharp-edged serrated sword.

She ran to my side. Crouching, I grabbed the dagger, frantically trying to dodge the toadling spittle coming at me. A few droplets hit the side of my neck. Screaming, I swiped at it with the back of my hand. Stupid move. Immediately, my hand began to burn like fire. Frantic with pain, I began touching moon missiles to the moonstone and throwing them at the repulsive toadlings. About half of them missed. Yeah, I was pathetic.

Melia jumped in front of me, swinging her sword. Behind me, Uncle Davey exploded out of the moat, with a terrifying bellow of rage. Thorndyke and the sprites were on his back. Two tiny figures flew above his head. Looked like the troops had landed.

“Watch out for the toadlings,” I yelled. “Their spit burns like crazy.”

Uncle Davey rolled his eyes and sneered, “It takes more than spit to stop a kelpie. I have a score to settle.” He pawed the ground and charged the toadlings who broke rank and ran for their spears. The sprites and Thorndyke slipped from the kelpie’s back.

Meg used her whip to stop a toadling in its tracks. Uncle Davey trampled it into mincemeat. Somewhere along the line, Pookie had acquired a huge, long-handled net.

Wielding the net with impressive grace and dexterity, she captured a furious toadling. She gripped the handle with both hands and jerked sideways, sweeping the toadling off his feet. She removed the net and Uncle Davey did the rest.

Thorndyke let out a strange musical call before lowering his head and impaling a slow-moving toadling on his single horn. The pixies fluttered in the air, looking for something to stab with their cocktail toothpicks.

Inspired by their courage, I gritted my teeth against the pain and waded into the battle. I charged my remaining moon missiles and, taking careful aim, began to inflict some harsh punishment on the toadlings. The sounds of battle were all around me. Toadlings hitting the ground. Thorndyke’s eerie battle cry. Uncle Davey’s terrifying whinny of rage. Melia’s sword singing through the air. My shrieks of agony when one of the toadlings nailed me with spit.

“Stop!” Phaedra’s voice was loud and commanding.

Slowly, reluctantly, we disengaged and turned toward Phaedra’s voice.

“Enough bloodshed,” she declared. “I am willing to negotiate.”

Melia snorted. “Of course you are, since you are about to lose your froggies.”

Melia and Phaedra. Oil and water. I sidled up to Melia and put a hand on her arm. “Maybe we should listen to what she has to say.”

Melia shook me off. “Listen to Phaedra? After what she did to Hawk?”

I glanced over my shoulder at Hawk. He was struggling to get to his feet, but obviously still in distress.

To her credit, Phaedra said, “That was not supposed to happen. My troops misunderstood my 379

orders.”

Melia rolled her eyes, “I clearly heard you say, ‘Do not let them escape.’ Is that the order you’re referring to? Hawk was already in the air. The only way to stop him was with a spear. Your troops were doing exactly as you ordered.”

Phaedra said, “You know I adore Hawk and wouldn’t harm him for the world. I will nurse him back to health.”

“Like hell you will!” Melia screeched. She raised her sword. “You lay on finger on that bird and you’ll live to regret it . . . if you live at all.”

The toadlings began to mutter ominously. Phaedra tossed her blue-black hair and formed her hands into claws. I was afraid to look in her eyes, but I saw her face had turned dark blue with rage. So much for negotiation.

Once again, I plucked at Melia’s sleeve. “You’re making things worse. Remember why we’re here. Your people are across the moat. We need to get Hawk to safety so you can heal him. Try working with her instead of fighting her.”

Melia stared at me long and hard. Just when I thought she was about to agree, she whispered,

“Summon Luminata. We’ll let her solve it.”

I shook my head. “I tried earlier. It didn’t work.”

Melia grabbed my arm and squeezed until it hurt. Her eyes were bright with intensity. “You can do. You will do it. Right now.”

Phaedra, who apparently had ears like a bunny, stepped closer and hissed, “What’s this about Luminata? She is not welcome in the Unseelie Court. Summon her all you want. She will not come.”

Privately, I agreed with Phaedra, but with Melia squeezing off the blood supply to my arm, I thought, Okay, why not? Melia will see it doesn’t work and then we’ll do it my way. Both queens watched me intently as I turned the moonstone in its setting. Feeling like the biggest idiot alive, I said, “Luminata, Good Mother, Queen of the Seelie Court, honor us with your presence.”

I stared at the ground when nothing happened, my face hot with embarrassment. The pixies landed on my shoulder. Ari reached up and patted my cheek. “Ari still loves you.”

I’d just opened my mouth to tell Melia, “See, I told you it wouldn’t work,” when I heard Phaedra’s gasp and the toadlings’ deep-throated mutters. The hair on the back of my neck began to tingle. Someone was standing behind me. I felt a presence.

“Luminata!” Phaedra hissed.

A sweet, high-pitched voice said, “You summoned me, daughter of Avalon?”

Still clutching the moonstone, I spun around to see a creature of such unearthly beauty, it took my breath away. From head to toe, she was draped in a gown made of shimmering silver scarves that floated around her body as wispy and ethereal as clouds. She wore a tight silver cap festooned with fragrant white flowers. A small crescent moon was centered in the middle of her forehead. A silver veil fell from the headdress and wrapped around her chin, framing her face in a perfect heart. She held a golden apple in her left hand, an iridescent crystal in her right. Her eyes twinkled with merriment when a furry woodland creature poked his head out the folds of her dress. The pixies burst into painfully shrill laughter. I clapped my hands over my ears.

Uncertain how to greet the Queen of the Seelie Court and still incapable of speech, I was relieved when Melia filled the void. “Luminata.” She bowed her head. “My granddaughter and I thank you for responding to our cry for help.”

Following Melia’s lead, I did a lame curtsey. “Yes, we thank you.”

Luminata ignored Melia and fixed me with a kindly gaze. “I’ve been waiting for you, child. What took you so long?”

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“You’ve been waiting for me? Why?”

She extended her left hand. “Behold the golden apple from the magic isle of Avalon.” The apple began to glow with an eerie radiant light that seemed to come from deep within. She held out her right hand. “And, in this hand, a crystal of pure moonlight.”

My mouth dropped open in astonishment as the moon crystal began to spin in her hand.

“You still do not understand?” Luminata said, in her sweet voice.

I shook my head.

“In you, the two symbols are joined.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“It means you have great untapped powers . . . powers that others would kill to have. I have been waiting for you to take your rightful position in the Seelie Court, so that I may school you to take my place some day.”

“Um, about that,” I began. “You know I have mortal blood, right?”

Luminata threw the apple and moon crystal into the air above her where they spun in place. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around my moonstone pendant.

Sensation fizzed through my blood, radiating outward from her touch. “This is all the proof I need.”

Luminata had just thrown me a great big curve ball. I didn’t want to tick her off, but I needed to nip this in the bud.

“I have to go back to Boundland. My mother’s there and I have responsibilities. I haven’t even finished high school. Maybe we can do it later.”

“Later?” Luminata frowned. “Faery time or mortal time?”

I thought it over for a few moments. “Mortal time. I have two more years of high school and then college and maybe graduate school. I’d say about eight years. Then, I’ll make a decision. I do have a choice, right?”

Luminata cupped my face in her palms and looked deep into my eyes. “You cannot choose your destiny.”

“I don’t know squat about my destiny, but see that big bird over there?” I pointed at Hawk who was still flopping around, trying to get to his feet.

Luminata nodded.

“Phaedra’s creepy toadlings speared him. He needs help or he’ll likely die.”

A luminous smile appeared on the Seelie Queen’s face. “So, you have chosen a mate. Excellent, Avalon, excellent. Your joining will produce magnificent offspring.”

“No, no!” I protested. “We’re just friends. No mating. Not now. Not ever. I just don’t want him to die.”

Luminata just smiled.

Phaedra took a cautious step forward. I could see by her posture she was intimidated by the Seelie Queen’s presence. With a simpering smile, she said, “While you are here, I would have you meet my lovely daughter, Oleander.”

Luminata narrowed her eyes at Phaedra. “She is the result of your union with Drake of the Seelie Court?”

“Yes, and she favors her father. Perhaps you could find it in your heart to find her a place at your side.”

“I think not,” Luminata said, dismissing Phaedra with a wave of her hand. Phaedra threw back her head and screamed. Lightning flashed and thunder shook the ground. The toadlings ran for cover.

Luminata smiled. “Very impressive, Phaedra, but the answer is still no.”

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Melia went down on one knee. “My queen, we need your help. My people were enslaved by the Dark Queen and . . . ”

“Because you abandoned them,” Luminata snapped. Her eyes lost their twinkle. “Let me make this perfectly clear, Melia, queen of the forest faeries. I am here because of your granddaughter. First, she must promise to return to Boundless. Then, and only then, will I assist you.”