The Last of the Firedrakes (7 page)

6

The Fae

As we moved further into the sunlit wood and passed the magical boundaries, I could feel a palpable change in the atmosphere. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze, and sunlight shone through the huge trees. Soon we reached a little wooden gate.

“Are you sure the guards won’t follow us here?” I asked Kalen.

“Pixie Bush is protected by magical boundaries. If you don’t know exactly where you are going, you can get lost in the deeper parts of the forest and wander for days without ever finding the village. Those who are not welcome, or have not been invited in, can never enter,” he grinned. “Keeps Oblek’s Guards out at least.”

As we entered the boundaries of the little village in the forest, I saw a small wooden sign attached to a stick. It said: “Pixie Bush, Goldleaf Forest, Illiador.”

The rays of the midday sun shone on the forest floor, creating dappled specks of gold that danced about our feet as we walked. I was completely entranced. It was as if I had entered yet another world. This was not the bleak, crowded stone castle of Lord Oblek. This was a fairy village, a magical place in the forest.

It was more fantastic than I could ever have imagined it might be. Tiny wooden cottages with thatched roofs covered in vines, and half hidden by foliage, nestled at regular intervals in the very heart of the woods, and small flower-lined paths connected the cottages. It looked like a picture out of a storybook.

I looked up. I could barely see the tops of the massive trees; some of them seemed to be reaching all the way to the clouds. The forest somehow looked larger from the inside than it did from Oblek’s castle. Small specks of sunlight filtered in through the leaves and led the way as we walked through the little streets of the fae village.

Kalen seemed right at home.

“Where’s Finn?” I asked.

“Finn must have gone straight home. Rafe doesn’t trust him with his identity, so he didn’t tell him about the meeting place.”

“But Rafe trusts you?”

Kalen beamed, his smile lighting up his face. “Yes, he does,” he said, puffing out his chest a little more. “Mother would have been worried after we were captured. It was she who told Rafe where to find us. He is a friend to the fae and is welcome in Pixie Bush whenever he wants. Even though he is a mage, he is a good person, quite unlike Archmage Lucian and the other mages of Nerenor.”

“Then why didn’t he come with us? Where does he live?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Somehow I wanted to know everything there was to know about Rafe. And Kalen was the perfect person for it, since he loved to talk and seemed inclined to inadvertently say more than he should. In this case, though, it was a good thing. I could drill Kalen for information about Rafe, because I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“Rafe didn’t tell you who he is?” asked Kalen, looking surprised.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Then it is really not my place to say, my lady,” said Kalen, quite to my surprise. “You should ask Rafe yourself when you see him.”

“Is Rafe even his real name?” I asked. Somehow that seemed important.

Kalen hesitated momentarily. “It is the name he prefers to use, yes,” he said finally.

Why was Kalen being so mysterious? What secrets did Rafe have to hide?

We walked quickly along the main street of the little forest village. It was a busy day, and all the little paths were bustling. I was relieved and relaxed a little. I felt safe here. Pixie Bush was lovely and bright and full of nice people—well, fae. Most of them looked quite ordinary except for the slightly pointed ears, but others were just too different to ignore.

Two small men with long beards and big ears stopped to say hello to Kalen. I tried to act like I did not find anything different about their appearance, but I soon realized that I couldn’t help staring at their huge elephant-like ears and massive, hairy feet.

“Who were those two?” I asked Kalen after the little men had walked away.

“Oh, I forgot you don’t know much about our people,” Kalen said quietly.

“I don’t know anything about your people,” I whispered. “Until last night I didn’t even believe that fairies exist.”

Kalen nodded his understanding.

“The ones we just met are brownies. They are very good housekeepers,” he said, pausing and looking around. “And those two, they are naiads—the fae of the rivers. They don’t live here.” He pointed at two tall ladies with green hair and milk-white skin, dressed in a thin and flimsy blue fabric. “Must be visiting for the market,” he added.

“What market?” I asked, intrigued.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” said Kalen, his big almond-shaped eyes lighting up. “Every year, the fae and other magical beings come together in Goldleaf Forest for the annual spring market. Normally, it is held in the daylight, but, because of the guards and the new rules that have banned fae gatherings, we are having the market tonight.” Kalen stopped to take a breath. He spoke so fast, like a runaway train. “Would you like to come with me tonight? I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can understand if you are tired after your terrible ordeal.”

I grinned. “I would love to go,” I said, meaning every word.

“Wonderful!” said Kalen. “First we will go home, and then tonight we can go together to the spring market.”

I was elated. A midnight market in the heart of the forest! I would get to see all the different magical beings that lived in Avalonia, and I would worry about Morgana tomorrow. Tonight I was safe. Kalen had said the village was protected; Morgana couldn’t get to me here.

I fiddled with my medallion, which I still wore round my neck, hidden under my clothes, as we walked quickly through the village of Pixie Bush. I was famished, and Kalen bought me an apple from a fae vendor’s cart. I hungrily polished it off, as I followed Kalen to an ancient oak tree.

It was the most massive tree I had ever seen. The branches and leaves were spread so thickly that you could not see past the first few boughs. There were other oaks like this interspersed throughout the village between the tiny cottages, but this one was by far the tallest and largest. The width of the trunk was the size of a whole room.

At the base was a small opening. Kalen climbed inside and gestured for me to follow. I caught a glimpse of the inner recesses. It was hollow and lit up with a faint light. I followed Kalen into the trunk of the enormous tree. The inside of the oak was absolutely massive. A steep spiral staircase ran all the way up through it, carved from within the trunk.

As we climbed the steep stairs, it was not dark and gloomy, as I had first expected it to be. It was dimly lit with tiny lamps that glowed and flickered at regular intervals. I looked at one closely. It was a small glass ball, attached to the inside of the tree, and little lights were moving around inside. I stopped to investigate one of the lights.

“Wow!” I said. “These look like fireflies.”

“Not fireflies,” said Kalen, “fire-pixies.”

I stared at the tiny pixies buzzing around inside the ball of light.

“Don’t worry,” said Kalen. “They are not trapped, they can leave whenever they want. It’s just a job.”

I smiled to myself; this world was slowly becoming much more interesting and not all that bad.

We climbed higher and higher and finally came to an opening in the side of the tree trunk, leading out onto one of the branches. I was about to walk through it when Kalen stopped me.

“No, princess, not yet. My mother’s house is on the topmost branch,” he said, with a hint of pride in his voice. “It has the best view, you know.”

“Please call me Aurora,” I said absentmindedly. “All this ‘my princess’ stuff sounds silly.”

Kalen smiled. “All right, Aurora,” he said.

I was still curious, and I decided to have a peep out onto the branch just the same. I peered through the opening. In the middle of the bough where the branches spanned out wider, balancing precariously between two broad branches on a wooden platform, was a small cottage with a little thatched roof and creepers covering the walls, like the cottages on the floor of the wood. I was spellbound. It was a life-sized tree house.

“Who lives here?” I asked, entranced.

“The Bettlebirds—they are not a very nice family. Mother has been trying to get them out of this tree for years,” he said, continuing up the spiral staircase, with me in tow.

We passed another few openings leading out onto the branches. I peeped out quickly once or twice. All the branches had a little cottage built between the leaves, spaced out at regular intervals.

When we reached the topmost branch, we stepped out of the little door onto an extremely wide branch of the massive tree. There the sun shone brighter, and the tiny cottage looked absolutely magical.

The bough served as a small pathway that lead to the treehouse, which looked like the others except that the roof was bright green and made of leaves. It blended into the foliage surrounding it perfectly. Vines crept haphazardly up the walls and onto the roof. The windows revealed a cake and some freshly baked bread cooling on the windowsill. The smell was heavenly, and I was famished.

“Here we are,” said Kalen. “This is my mother’s house.”

He went up to the door and knocked once.

It opened almost immediately, and a pleasant-looking woman with curly gold ringlets, a round face, and dancing blue eyes hugged Kalen fiercely and ushered us in. I looked around the little cottage in the trees. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen—quite large from the inside, sparsely furnished with a fluffy green sofa and a cream-colored rug that covered the wooden floor. It was homely and cozy, and a lazy fire was struggling to stay alight in the small fireplace, where a little pot was hanging, bubbling away.

After the initial happiness of seeing Kalen alive wore off, his mother began shouting at him. She looked very angry.

“What did I tell you about leaving the forest? Without the magical boundaries, it is not difficult for the guards to capture you. How could you, Kalen, how could you? What if something had happened to you? What if the Black Wolf had not managed to get there in time?” She paused for a moment. “A lovely boy, that Rafe,” she sniffed.

I suppressed a giggle; at least now I knew where Kalen inherited his fast talking skills. I smiled at the plump fae lady, who suddenly looked surprised to see me, as though she had forgotten I was there.

“Oh!” said Kalen’s mother. “Who is this little one?”

I smiled because the fae lady came up to my shoulders and had to look up to talk to me.

“This is my friend, Mother—the Lady Aurora. She was also in the dungeons at Lord Oblek’s castle. Rafe rescued her as well,” said Kalen, turning to me. “Aurora, this is my mother, Penelope Plumpleberry.”

I smiled. The name suited her.

“Very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Plumpleberry,” I said politely.

“Oh, you can call me Penelope. Everybody does.”

“Mother, I promised Aurora she could stay with us for a night,” said Kalen.

“Of course,” said Penelope, bustling around the little cottage, making tea and cutting up the cake. “Will you have some, Aurora?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes, please,” I answered eagerly. My tummy was grumbling, and I was so hungry.

“Finn has gone out to attend to some errands. Come and sit here, and we can talk freely,” Penelope said, patting the cushion next to her. “Kalen, bring the tea and cake.”

I sat down on the proffered cushion.

“Yes, Mother,” said Kalen, bringing over a little tray and setting it down in front of me.

“Now tell me, my dear . . . what exactly happened to you? Maybe I can be of some help,” said Mrs. Plumpleberry, turning to give me her full attention.

I sipped on my delicate cup of violet tea, which happened to taste rather nice, gathered my thoughts and prepared to start my story once again.

“Well . . .” said Kalen. He obviously couldn’t resist being the one to talk, so he proceeded to tell his mother everything: who I was, where he met me, and the fact that Rafe was taking me to see my granduncle, the Duke of Silverthorne.

“So you see, Oblek thinks I am the lost princess, and Queen Morgana now knows I am alive and wants to get me out of the way permanently,” I finished.

Penelope looked stunned, much like Rafe had in the woods earlier, when I told him who I really was.

“Please say something,” I urged, leaning forward a little.

She looked at me, her eyes bright and questioning.

“It was thought that all three of you died that day,” said Penelope slowly, “but obviously your parents found a way to save you.”

“How? How could they have saved me if they both died?”

“I don’t know, my dear,” said Penelope. “What I do know is that the whole west wing of the castle of Nerenor burned to the ground. Your parents disappeared, and Morgana assumed the throne of Illiador.”

“Disappeared? You mean, died?”

Penelope looked away. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Yes, although their bodies were never found.”

A spark of hope leapt in my heart.

“But if I’m still alive, isn’t it possible that they could be, too?”

Penelope shook her head. “I am sorry, my dear, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. Your parents must be dead. If they were not, they would have returned by now, or someone would have seen or heard something. No one has even whispered that Elayna or Azaren could be alive.”

I hung my head, the memories of my dream fresh in my mind. I could see Morgana coming at my mother to stab her. I didn’t want to say anything about the dream to Penelope and Kalen. Somehow it seemed too private to talk about. At least now I knew I hadn’t made it all up, and I wasn’t crazy. But why had the dream begun occurring only recently?

“How did Morgana know I was alive?” I asked.

Penelope shook her head. “I don’t know, my dear,” she said, putting her hand on my arm.

“Do you also think Morgana will kill me if she finds me?” I asked finally, although I think I already knew the answer.

“Yes, that much is certain,” said Penelope. “If Morgana knows who you really are, then she will not stop coming after you. You need to get out of Illiador before she does.”