Silence and Stone (4 page)

For a long time, the mare's hoofbeats were the only sound.

Then the rhythm changed—it echoed.

Alida sat straighter, then twisted to look behind them.

“What?” Gavin reined in.

“I thought I heard . . . ,” she began, and then stopped. There it was again—faint hoofbeats behind them.

It wasn't one horse, or two.

It was ten or more, coming at a gallop.

Lord Dunraven's guards? It had to be. Farmers did not race down roads in the dark.

“Hold on!” Gavin whispered, and the mare sprang into a gallop. He urged her faster and faster and faster, until they were pounding around a long curve in the road.

Then Gavin reined in hard, and the mare jolted to a stop.

“Hide in the woods, Alida,” he said. “Hurry! I'll lead them away.”

“We can both hide and—,” Alida began, but he slid off, lifting her down before she could say more.

“No. I brought this.” He pulled a gold bracelet out of his pocket. “So if they catch up with me, they will think I am a simple thief. They still won't know you are gone.”

He bent his knees to look into her face. “If I don't come back, follow this road to Ash Grove. Find Ruth Oakes; you can trust her. Help my grandmother. And don't let
anyone
see your wings.”

Gavin jumped back on the mare. “Hide!” he hissed. “Run!” And then he was gone, the mare leaping back into her swift, long stride.

Alida sprinted into the trees.

She crouched, shaking, listening to the hoofbeats getting louder. The horses thundered around the long curve and passed Alida. She shivered in the
dark and saw the faint shine of their armor. And then they were gone.

The hoofbeats dimmed.

The forest was suddenly deep and dark and silent.

The stars were ice-silver overhead.

And Alida was alone.

She began to walk, shivering, the shawl tight around her shoulders.

6

Alida walked in the darkness beneath the trees that grew alongside the road.

With every step, she hoped Gavin had been able to hide. Maybe he was just waiting for her to catch up to him.

Any moment now, he would whisper her name.

They would hide together and wait for the guards to ride past again, on their way back to Lord Dunraven's castle.

But he didn't whisper.

The road was empty, the forest silent.

Without Gavin, without the mare's hoofbeats, the silence crowded close to Alida.

She could hear her own thoughts.

John had been
old
sixty years before when he had taken her to the castle and carried her up the long, steep stairs.

Humans didn't live that long.

It was magic of some kind.

Was John's long life a gift from a faerie? Or a unicorn, or a dragon? It had to be.

Alida shivered.

Why had her mother let John take her away?

And why hadn't her mother ever come to make sure she was all right?

Alida pulled the shawl closer.

An owl hooted, soft and sleepy.

She walked a little faster.

She wanted to get back to her family, and she wanted Gavin to be all right.

Maybe he was, she told herself as she walked.

Maybe she would catch up, find him hiding in the woods waiting for her.

But she didn't.

By the time the sun came up, she was weary, but she didn't stop.

Then, just after dawn, she heard hoofbeats ahead of her.

Alida ducked behind a tree, peeking out.

The sound got louder and louder.

It was Lord Dunraven's guards, riding back toward the castle. She could see Gavin among them. His hands were tied. A guard held the reins, leading the white mare.

Alida's heart ached as they passed.

Her wings vibrated beneath the shawl.

If she could keep up with them, when the guards stopped to rest, or sleep, she might have a chance to free Gavin before they got him to the castle.

Once they were out of sight, she pulled the shawl off and spread her wings.

She tried to fly.

She tried
so
hard.

She could move her wings so fast they made a whirring sound. But when she stood on her toes and tried to lift herself up into the air, she still couldn't.

She tried again and again.

Her eyes filled with tears. She couldn't do it. She couldn't help Gavin.

Would John? He might.

And Alida was sure her mother would, once she found her family.

Cold, worrying, Alida started walking again. She had to find Ruth Oakes, then her mother, and somehow she would help Gavin.

She kept walking and found wildflowers—lobelia and mallow. She ate as many as she could hold, then kept going.

That morning she saw a few farm wagons on the road and hid as they passed. By afternoon, there were many more.

Most were stacked with early potatoes and bags of last year's barley.

Some had spring onions and radishes.

Human food.

Where were they taking it? Ash Grove? She remembered a market there.

Alida rerolled her blanket, tied her shawl tightly, and made her way to the edge of the road. She stood up straight as a wagon approached her.

“I beg your pardon,” she called out.

The driver was an older woman. She looked weary. She didn't answer.

“Pardon me!” Alida shouted again.

The woman just shook her head as the wagon rolled past.

The next farmer pretended not to see her at all.

Alida wondered if they could tell she was a faerie and were afraid to talk to her.

But they didn't look afraid. They looked tired and grumpy.

The wagon after that was pulled by a team of oxen, and the driver raised his eyebrows when Alida spoke.

“Is Ash Grove much farther?” Alida shouted.

He shook his head.

“Is that where you are all taking the food?”

He looked at her as though she had said some-thing puzzling. Then he said, “It's market day tomorrow,” in the tone of voice someone would say, “The sky is blue.”

Alida watched as he passed. His wagon was only half full of green squash.

She thought he might offer to let her ride.

But he didn't. He cracked his whip, and the oxen flicked their ears.

Alida watched a few more wagons go by.

Then the road was empty for a while.

Alida walked a little faster, thinking. She never wanted to eat human food again. If there weren't wildflowers around Ruth Oakes's house, she would have to find woods where she could gather what she needed.

“Look out!” someone shouted.

Alida jerked around to see a cart coming close.

She jumped backward and felt her shawl slip as she caught her balance.

She dropped her blanket to free her hands, then pulled the shawl back into place.

The cart driver whipped his horses into a trot and disappeared around a curve in the road.

Alida was scared.

Had he seen her wings? Would he tell the guards if they came looking for her?

Alida picked up her blanket and walked back into the woods.

She stayed hidden as long as she could, but then the road crossed a planked bridge.

It was narrow and long.

The river below it was deep blue and swift.

If she could have flown, she would have found a hidden place and been across in a few heartbeats.

But she couldn't.

She had no choice.

She had to climb back up on the road and walk alongside the carts.

They got closer and closer as the road narrowed.

The drivers looked impatient.

Alida kept her eyes down and clamped her blanket beneath one arm so she could hold her shawl in place.

She was nervous.

She kept her wings folded tightly and wondered how old she looked to the humans around her.

John had called her a faerie child.

She was!

But she was probably twice as old as most of the cart drivers.

The wagons came to a stop in the middle of the bridge. Alida heard a few shouts on the far side. Someone was yelling for help.

Alida lowered her head, weaving her way through cart wheels and horses until she was across the river. As she stepped off the bridge, she saw the problem:
A woman's wagon wheel had broken. Five or six men were working to fix it.

Once Alida was across, she veered into the woods again, without glancing back.

She tried to look like she knew where she was going.

She didn't.

But she found a place to hide.

She waited until the overloaded cart blocking the way was moved.

Then she waited until all the cart drivers who had seen her were long gone.

Only then did she come back to the road.

This time she waited until she saw a human girl, walking alone. “Excuse me? Do you know Ruth Oakes?” she asked.

The girl turned to look at her. “Are you sick?”

Alida shook her head, wondering if she looked pale. Probably. She was scared.

The girl pointed. “Go that way until you get to
River Road. Then turn right and walk past all the old farms until you see a neat cottage on the right-hand side. It has rose gardens and flowers.”

Alida thanked her and walked away before the girl could ask her anything more. The road was crowded with carts and wagons until she got past Market Square. After that, it was empty.

At the edge of town, Alida heard meadowlarks calling.

Her fear eased.

The crossroads were easy to find.

So was the pretty cottage out on River Road.

Alida stopped in front of it and looked up at the sky. It was so wonderful to be outside, far away from Lord Dunraven's castle.

Without Gavin's help, she would still be peeking through the tiny crack in the stone. She wanted to help him and his grandmother.

And if she could, she would.

7

Alida knocked softly the first time.

No one called out. No one came to the door.

She knocked again. Then she stepped back, waiting, holding her breath until she had to let it out.

Alida walked up to the door again, and this time she knocked as hard as she could—but it made no difference.

No one came.

Maybe Ruth Oakes was in Market Square, buying food with everyone else in Ash Grove.

Alida sat on the porch for a while.

Then she walked around the cottage.

The backyard was as neat and pretty as the front yard. There was a beautiful garden, full of flowers. Beyond it were a tidy barn, a wagon shed, and what looked like a doghouse.

That made Alida uneasy—faeries were not usually fond of dogs.

Dogs ran through the forest barking.

They scared the deer and the birds. And they trampled flowers.

Grown-up faeries tricked dogs.

She had seen her mother magically lift a startled dog—moving it back a long way, then letting it sink gently to the ground.

It had run off, barking.

Alida remembered her father lifting heavy field stones without touching them too.

But she didn't know how to work magic yet, so she just stood still, watching the little door of the doghouse, ready to run since she couldn't fly.

But no dog came out of the little house.

Once she was sure she was alone, Alida wandered through the garden.

There were wood's herbs planted everywhere. Meadow flowers had been mixed with roses and tall purple irises.

Alida stared at the roses.

There were a hundred blooms, at least.

She couldn't see anyone, but she wanted to make sure.

“Hello?” she said, raising her voice. “Ruth Oakes? Are you here? Is anyone here?”

There was no answer.

Alida glanced at the house, the barn, and the doghouse. Then she plucked a single rose.

She ate it as fast as she could. When there was still no sound from inside, she picked another bloom and ate it, too.

Then a third.

And a fourth.

She tried to make the fifth one drop into her hand without touching it.

She couldn't.

But maybe she would be able to learn magic soon.

By the barn, she found a rain barrel. She dipped up rainwater in her hands and drank as much as she could hold.

Then she walked back to the front porch.

There was nothing left to do but wait.

She sat down on the steps, facing the road.

The sun was going down by the time Alida finally heard the squeaking of wooden wagon wheels.

She hid, watching.

A sleek bay horse pulled the wagon around the corner and down the path that led to the barn behind the house.

Alida could hear women's voices, then a dog barking, then silence. She waited, scared, hoping the
dog wouldn't come running back around the house on its own.

It didn't.

And when she heard two women laughing, her fear eased.

Their voices got a little louder, then Alida heard the sound of the back door opening and closing.

She waited.

Before long she saw lantern light coming from the windows. Then she gathered her courage and knocked on the door.