Emily Feather and the Chest of Charms (5 page)

“We have to tell Lory.” Lark sighed.

“She won't believe you,” Robin pointed out.

“I know!” Lark snapped back. “You'll have to back me up.”

“Won't that just make her cross though?” Emily suggested. “She might get annoyed if she thinks everyone knows he lied to her.”

“Probably.” Lark nodded gloomily. “But she saw us all here. She knows you saw him. And at least she isn't going to think that you two are only jealous because she's got a boyfriend.”

Emily and the others were silent for a minute. “Is that what she thinks you are?” Emily said cautiously.

“Mmmm. And before you ask, maybe I was a bit.” Then Lark snorted. “But I wasn't just being jealous, was I? I was right. He
is
a creep. She should have listened to me to begin with.”

Emily smiled, but she made up her mind to do as much of the talking as possible, if Lory would let her speak. Lark did sound a bit too gleeful, and Lory was so touchy.

“Should we tell Mum and Dad about who Dan really is?” Emily asked. “I mean, if he's really powerful and dangerous—”

“Don't you dare!” Lark said, suddenly angry. “If we do that Lory's never going to talk to me again. Really!” She caught Emily's wrist. “Please, Emily, I mean it. She's already going to be so miserable about it. And furious. We have to sort it out without Mum and Dad knowing. You know how proud she is. She'd hate it if they knew she'd been tricked like this.”

“All right!” Emily shrugged, and pulled away. Lark knew more about this sort of thing than she did, after all. “I was only trying to help.”

“I know.” Lark rubbed her cheek against Emily's hair.

Lark was proud too, Emily thought. Too proud just to say sorry.

 

“Where did she go?” Robin muttered, walking up and down the back of the sofa, and kicking at the cushions. “She's been ages. I hate waiting.” He and Emily and Lark were killing time waiting for Lory to get home. Sasha had gone back to the pond – she couldn't stay away from water for too long.

“We know,” Emily sighed, leaning forward to dodge his feet, and grabbing some more popcorn while she happened to be close to the bowl. They were watching one of Lark's DVDs, a slushy sort of high school comedy, and it called for popcorn.

“She's coming.” Lark had been slumped back against the end of the sofa, with her feet stretched out on Emily's lap. But now she sprang upright, curling her feet under her with perfect, inhuman grace.

Emily moved up next to Robin, who had slipped down amongst the cushions. They weren't quite touching, but they were close enough that Emily could feel the warmth of him. She hated it when Lark and Lory fought. It happened so rarely that it frightened her. She could remember hating it always, a long time before she knew about their magic and what they could do to each other if they really tried. When Lark and Lory did anything more than tease each other, she and Robin would often find an excuse to be together. Once Emily remembered hiding with him under the kitchen table – it was less scary hearing Lark and Lory screeching at each other when they could only see their sisters' feet.

Lark sat frowning in the corner of the sofa, listening to the steps coming up the path and the front door banging. Then, as Lory began to pad along the hallway, Lark stretched out a hand and twirled her fingers lightly in the air.

As she drew her hand away, a soft, speckled-brown feather appeared, tiny and fluffed at the root. It floated upwards, wafting out across the room, drawn by invisible, unnatural air currents that sent it skimming into the hall.

Lory's soft footsteps halted. A moment later she appeared in the doorway of the living room, the feather cupped in her hands.

“What?” she asked mulishly. “I'm tired. I'm going upstairs.”

“We need to talk to you first.” Lark hesitated, and Emily held her breath.

“Hurry up, then!”

“It's Dan.”

Lory rolled her eyes, but Lark galloped on. “Please listen,” she begged. “It isn't just me being weird about him. Emily and Robin saw it too.”

They nodded and Lory scowled. “Saw what?”

“He's one of us,” Lark told her simply.

Lory stared at Lark and then shrugged impatiently. “You think I didn't know that?”

All three of them gaped at her, speechless, and Lory laughed. “You look so funny. Like three fish.”

“You
knew
?” Lark asked, her voice hollow with disbelief.

“Of course. He told me.” Lory smiled shyly and her eyes unfocused a little, as though she was remembering. “Not at first. He had to make sure that he could trust me. But now he does.”

“He's an exile?” Robin asked.

Lory nodded, her eyes still misty. “It was all a mistake – he was trying to convince the king not to be so harsh towards some of the lesser peoples. The forest fairies. He was protecting them. But the king thought Dantis was trying to usurp the throne, so he exiled him.”

“Dantis sounds a lot like Anstis,” Robin whispered to Emily. “I think you were right.”

Lark was still gaping at her sister. “But – but you didn't tell me,” she murmured.

Lory looked uncomfortable for the first time. “I wanted to,” she admitted. “Dan said it was too risky.” She looked at Lark under her eyelashes. “He doesn't think you like him.”

“I don't!” Lark snapped. “I think he's lying to you.”

“Oh, don't be so stupid!” Lory whirled round, ready to stomp away, but the feather squashed in between her fingers twisted again. “
What
?”

“Please listen.” Lark swallowed and spoke slowly, picking her words carefully. “It was when we saw him come down out of the attic with you. He looked wrong, we all thought so. I think he's dangerous.”

“What does he want?” Robin added, and both sisters jumped, as though they'd almost forgotten anyone else was there.

Lory hesitated. She didn't really want to answer, Emily could see. “A door,” she admitted at last.

“You see! He's using you!” Lark jumped up from the sofa. “He just wants you to get him back – it's all a lie.”

“No, it isn't!” Lory shrieked. For a horrible moment, her face sharpened in a way that reminded Emily of Lady Anstis. She looked fierce and angry and knowing. And then her face crumpled, as if she wasn't truly sure, and she was just their sister again. “He really does like me,” she muttered.

“You can't let him through any of the doors,” Lark told her pleadingly. “You mustn't. We're forbidden.”

“I'm not going to. I can't. They're all guarded.” Lory shrugged. “But Dantis thinks there's another door, a hidden one. He says it's here somewhere. We're looking for it, together. And then I'm going to help him return and overthrow the tyranny.”

Lark raised her eyebrows. “You do know that's just another way of saying that you're going to kill the king? Our king? He's even related to us, Lory – he's like some kind of distant great-uncle!”

“He's an oppressor,” Lory said, but she sounded like a little child, parroting something she had been taught. “He rules the people too harshly.”

Lark frowned. “How do you even know? We've never lived there. You don't know, not for certain. Only what he's telling you, don't you see? And how do you know that Dantis would be any better?”

“Especially if he's related to Lady Anstis and her sisters,” Emily put in. “He looks so like her, Lory. I think he's her brother.”

“Dantis and Anstis,” Robin agreed. “They sound the same. He might even be worse than she is.”

Lory stared at him, and then at Emily. “Anstis – the one we rescued you from?” She shook her head, slowly. “No. No, he would have told me. I'm sure he isn't.”

“Just think of him with darker hair,” Emily reminded her. “And jewelled clothes instead of school uniform or a T-shirt.”

Lory shook her head again, stubbornly, but Emily could see she was troubled. Unfortunately Lory hated to be confused, or uncertain. It made her angry. Her eyebrows had drawn together, Emily saw now, and her lips were tightly stretched and very pale.

“I should have known you'd be like this,” she hissed. “So stupid and petty.”

“Petty! We're trying to stop you breaking the most important rule our family has!” Lark yelled. “You can't take him through the doors, and it doesn't matter if it's a secret one somewhere – it's still in this house. It's still up to Dad to guard it. You're putting us all in danger. I'm going to tell Dad.”

“No!” Lory bounded forward, screaming it in Lark's face. “You won't! I won't let you.” She still had the feather, nestled in her fingers, and she dropped back a step, breathing on it, oh so gently. Her eyes were glowing with an angry amber light.

A wisp of pale blue smoke rose from the feather, and a sizzling noise, and the most dreadful smell of burning.

Lark staggered back as though the feather had been a part of her. Emily grabbed at her, worrying that she was going to fall, but let go with a yelp – Lark felt as though she was burning too.

Robin stood between the sisters, his eyes flicking frantically from Lark to Lory, his hands lifted as if he wanted to stop them – but he couldn't tell how.

“Don't do that to her!” Emily yelled at Lory. “You're hurting her, stop it!”

“I won't let her betray us,” Lory snarled, but she was crying, tears running down her face in little glittering streams. She stroked the frizzled remnants of the feather across her cheek, and Lark sighed, sinking down to the floor with her arms wrapped round her middle.

“What did you do?” Emily wailed, crouching next to Lark. “How could you do that to her? She's your sister!”

“I stopped it, I mended her,” Lory muttered, holding out the feather, which was whole again now, although bleached white. It was shaking on Lory's palm, although it was actually Lory shaking, Emily realized after a moment. She was trembling all over and there were still tears pouring down her face. “But if you tell Mum and Dad, it will burn again, Lark, you know it will. We're bound together by our magic, you and me. You can't betray me.”

Emily shook her head, disbelieving. She'd seen Lory angry, in a temper. She'd known her to scream at Lark, but the sisters had never hurt each other, not like this. It was new – and wrong.

Lark stood up, wavering a little, with Emily holding her. “You can't take Dantis through the doors,” she murmured. “I may not be able to tell Dad, but I'll stop you myself.” She was crying too. Emily could feel her gasps. “Doesn't it matter to you that we're all frightened? We don't trust him – it's
you
we're frightened for!”

“You just don't understand.” Lory shook her head. She looked miserable but determined. Horribly certain. “I have to do it.”

“No!” Lark yelled, suddenly tearing herself out of Emily's arms and springing at her sister.

Emily reached out a hand helplessly, wanting to pull her back.

Lark and Lory were standing face to face, Lory still cupping the feather in her hands, a grim look on her face. Lark had lifted her hands up to her shoulders, as though she was calling something down, and her dress was swirling around her legs with the rising wind. The wind spun around the room, fluttering and tearing, and Robin caught Emily's hand.

“What's she doing?” Emily wailed.

“I don't know. But why haven't Mum or Dad noticed?” Robin took a step towards his sisters. “Lark and Lory aren't strong enough to hide all this magic from them. They should know! Why aren't they here stopping them?”

Emily shook her head. “Something's hiding the magic? I don't know either!”

The magic that Lark was calling flared, sending a sudden gust of air at Lory, air laden with power, like a thunderstorm. Little sparks of lightning ran through it, but Lory simply smiled and held out the feather, which began to shrivel and burn in the surge of Lark's own fiery magic.

Lark dropped back, coughing and gasping, and dark, dreadful marks appeared on the thin cotton of her dress. Burn marks.

“I think she's actually going to burn up!” Emily cried. “This isn't Lory doing this, she never would. Not to Lark!” She darted across the room, reaching for a vase of flowers on a shelf, hopelessly planning to tip the water over Lark. But would water put out a fire spell?

“Let me.” Sasha was swinging herself in through the open window. She was half water already, shadowy and thin and shining, and she wrapped herself around the squirming Lark with soft murmurs of comfort.

“A water sprite?” Lory muttered. Then she looked down at the feather again, whole, but terribly, wispily fragile. She closed it in her hand, squeezing angrily, and stalked away.

“Help me take her out into the garden,” Sasha panted. “She's still burning up inside. I need to be nearer water to help her.”

Emily and Robin stood on either side of Lark, holding her limp arms around their shoulders, while Sasha walked in front. She had stretched out her dress like a sheet of watery magic and wrapped it around herself and Lark, pulling her gently out towards the garden.

Lark could walk, but she was stumbling and weak, and her face was anguished. Emily couldn't tell if that was because of the burning spell, or because it was Lory who had cast it against her.

They had just reached the pond – and Emily and Robin were crouching, helping Lark to sit among the reeds around the pond so Sasha could be in the water and still reach her – when Emily caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked round, and then quickly slipped out from under Lark's arm. “It's Rachel,” she whispered to Robin. “She said she might come round today. I forgot. I have to stop her walking over here.”

“Hello!” Rachel, Emily's best friend from school, came round the corner of the house, waving. “Isn't it hot? Want to go and buy an ice cream from the shop?”

Emily glanced back quickly and Robin nodded, shooing her away. He turned and stooped forward so that if Rachel looked over, she wouldn't see Sasha.

Lark was stronger already, Emily thought gratefully. She wasn't slumped over any more – now she was strong enough to stretch out her hand to Sasha in the water.

“Yes. Um. Yes, ice cream sounds good.” Actually, it sounded wonderful. She still felt as though she was burning a little, just from touching Lark. It made her shiver to think what Lark must feel like.

She reached out to take Rachel's arm, wanting to lead her away from the scene in the garden as quickly as she could. But Rachel jumped back, staring at her in surprise.

“Emily, your fingers are burning! Wow, have you been sitting in the sun for ages or something?”

“Oh … yes.” Emily snatched her hand away. “Sorry.”

Rachel gazed at her, head on one side, frowning a little. “You look odd…”

“Too much sun?” Emily smiled, trying to shrug it off. Was it any wonder she looked strange?

“No. You're … glittering.” Rachel was staring at Emily's hands, and Emily glanced down at them, wondering what she meant.

“Oh!” She was. A thin sheen of greenish-silver water magic slid over her fingers as she held them out. It had dripped on to her when Sasha was trying to soothe Lark, Emily supposed. Swiftly, Emily stuck her hands behind her back and smiled. “I was painting,” she lied. “Earlier on. Nice colour, isn't it? I didn't know I'd got it all over me though.” She pulled a tissue out of the pocket of her shorts and rubbed it furiously over her hands, muttering in her head,
Go away, go away, go away
… and trying to will her fingers clean and pinkish again.

It was all about wishing Sasha and Robin had said. Not rhyming spells, or newts' eyes, or anything like that. She just had to take the magic inside her and
need
it. She couldn't let Rachel know the truth – it was too dangerous, for everybody.

Emily's hands itched and prickled as she scrubbed, and there was a very, very faint buzzing sound. When she stretched her fingers out again, they were clean, but with that odd tight feeling – the kind she got after she'd been washing up in water that was hotter than it should have been.

“Glittery paint?” Rachel asked. She sounded a little too interested and Emily remembered how much she liked sparkly things – glittery nail polish especially.

“Mmm. It's new. Belongs to Mum, really,” Emily added quickly, in case Rachel wanted to see it.

“Oh.” Rachel nodded enviously. Emily's mum, being a dress designer, had a whole cupboard full of fabric scraps and beads and buttons as well as the most amazing art supplies.

Emily hurried her friend down the path towards the gate and the street, wishing she could tell Rachel what was really happening. She had told Rachel that she'd found out she was adopted, but not the whole truth about her family. She wished she could – Rachel was her best friend and she hated hiding stuff from her. And it would be so nice to show her a spell … once she was a bit better at them. She couldn't though. Emily understood why her mum had made her promise. The knowledge would put their whole family in danger, and Rachel too.

“I could really do with an ice cream,” she chattered. “It's so hot, isn't it? Shall we go and eat them under the trees in the park?”

It was nice to be away from the house for a bit, Emily thought, as she buried her tingly hands in the ice cream freezer at the newsagent. She was going to have to go back quite soon and make sure Lark was all right, of course, but she needed some time to … to be normal. Which was funny, because usually she didn't like being normal at all.

What would she have been like if she had grown up with her real family, Emily wondered as they lay under the big willow tree in the park and she stared at the leaves, flickering above her.

Her father had found her under a willow tree, so he'd told her. Wrapped in a blanket and laughing up at the leaves waving over her head. Maybe that was why she liked the long fronds of the willows so much. They still made her feel peaceful.

She couldn't have minded being left, Emily thought, rather sadly. She didn't think about her real parents that often – she'd had too much else to think about, to be honest – but just sometimes, the fact that she was adopted would hit her all over again.

Actually, she wasn't adopted, officially. Ash and Eva had simply pretended that she was theirs. Emily suspected it wasn't difficult to do that sort of thing when you could just pull spells out of the air and use them to make people believe whatever you wanted.

“I'm going to have to go home,” Rachel said, rolling over with a sigh. “I told Mum I'd be back in an hour. She watches the clock. I swear she still thinks I'm too little to go anywhere without her.”

“It's because you're an only child,” Emily said as she sat up. “One of the few good things about big sisters…” She shivered as she said it, remembering all at once just what her big sisters had been doing. “They've always done everything before you have. I'd have to try really hard to scare my mum.”

“I know, your mum's so relaxed compared to mine.” Rachel shrugged. “OK. This is it. I'm actually getting up.”

She didn't, but Emily reached down and hauled her up from the grass. Now she'd thought about Lark and Lory, she knew she had to go home.

 

“Oh! Hi, Mum.” Emily pulled up in surprise as she came into the kitchen. She'd expected her mother to be stuck in her studio all day, but she was sitting at the kitchen table, with her fingers twisted together. She didn't look happy.

And her dad was by the sink, she noticed then, filling the kettle. He didn't look happy either – positively grim, in fact.

Emily chewed the inside of her bottom lip, wondering what they knew. Had they heard Lark and Lory fighting? Or come across traces of magic, left over from the battle between her sisters?

Or perhaps – Emily swallowed back a horrified gulp – perhaps Lark had been really hurt by Lory's magic and Robin had to call them to help her? What about the secrecy spell that Lory had laid on Lark? Would it still have attacked her if Robin was the one who told?

Emily suspected her parents didn't know what had really happened between Lark and Lory. If they did, they'd be with Lark, wouldn't they? Not sitting in the kitchen, making tea and glaring at her. None of it had been her fault, Emily thought uneasily. Why did they look as though it was her they were cross with?

“Er, what's the matter?” she asked at last.

“Don't you know?” her father snapped.

Emily shook her head slowly. She glanced sideways and saw that Robin was standing by the open door to the garden. He smiled at her and made a little thumbs up sign towards the garden. So Lark was all right then! Emily nodded and then rolled her eyes anxiously at him. What was going on?

“Did you know about this?” Eva asked him, her voice shaking a little.

“What?” Robin opened his eyes impossibly wide as he strolled over to stand by Emily. His dark lashes quivered innocently and his mother sighed. Even though she knew it was all put on, the look still worked.

“The nixie,” she said, frowning at Emily.

Emily only stared back at her. She had no idea what a nixie was.

“Water sprite,” Robin muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Oh! Sasha!

Emily hadn't even considered that… She actually was the one in trouble, then.

“In the pond!” their father added, his voice almost a growl.

Emily bit her lip again, but this time to stop herself laughing. It was the way he'd said it. As though it didn't matter that she'd done the most forbidden thing and brought a fairy creature through the doors and into the human world. The problem was that she'd put her in the garden pond.

“She – um – needed the water,” she said, her voice wobbling a little as she tried not to smirk.

“She needs to be where she belongs!” her father yelled. “What were you doing? You promised never to go back without one of us! I explained to you how dangerous it was. And then you actually brought someone through!”

“I still don't think it can have been Emily,” Eva said wearily. “It doesn't make sense. Lory must have got mixed up, Ash. Emily couldn't have done it.”

“Lory!” Robin whispered, just as Emily glanced at him and hissed, “Lory told them!”

He nodded. “Good way to keep them off her tracks. Get them worried about you instead.”

“I take it you
did
know,” Ash glowered at Robin, “going by the whispering. Was it you that brought her over?” He sank into a chair next to Eva. “You're right, it must have been Robin. Emily couldn't, of course. Silly of me.”

“It
was
me!” Emily said, her eyes filling with tears. It was stupid to be disappointed that they were cross with someone else instead of her, but Emily was proud of what she'd done, rescuing Sasha. Yes, she'd promised her parents she wouldn't go back to the fairy world, but some things were more important even than promises, weren't they?

But her parents were smiling at her sadly, as though they thought she was sweet and a bit stupid. Emily smacked the table with her open hand. “It was!”

“It was Emily that brought me here,” a quiet voice added, in the second's silence after the mugs stopped shaking. Everyone turned towards the door.

The kitchen was dim and shadowed against the bright sunlight in the garden, and it was hard to see Sasha standing there – just the faint outline of a girl and the scent of water.

“And you aren't sending her back,” Emily hissed at her father. “I won't let you. Don't you see, if she goes back she'll die.”

“What?” Eva turned back and stared at Emily. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm being hunted.” Sasha drifted slowly closer, lurking warily just behind Emily.

“That may be so – but you should not be here, water-girl,” Ash said, his voice deep and sad.

Emily gripped Sasha's hand. She couldn't let this happen. But her father had told her so firmly – no one was ever to come through the doors without permission. Whatever the reason. And he was angry with Sasha now. And with her too. What if he sent Sasha back? Emily knew he could, easily.

“She helped us escape from Lady Anstis. I had to help her.” Emily caught her breath and stepped closer to her father, pushing Sasha back towards Robin. “I know I'm not meant to have any magic, but I have, because
you
brought me here. That's how I went through to the fairy world in the first place,
and
how I brought Sasha back!” She glared at him. “And even if I didn't have any magic, I'd still have wanted to help her. I don't care about your rules! She was going to die!”

Eva reached out suddenly and caught Emily's hand, pulling her close. Emily squeaked in surprise, but her mother took her other hand too, clasping them tightly in her own. She closed her eyes, the great fans of dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Then she began to whisper, in a language Emily didn't know. She didn't know it, but she recognized it. Her mother had sung those words to her before, she remembered. When she was tiny and wouldn't go to sleep. Emily could feel the love and magic in them, and in the trembling of her mother's voice as she chanted the spell.

The words wrapped themselves around her and Emily swallowed desperately. Why was her mother putting a spell on her? “Please don't take my magic away!” she cried. “It's only a little bit. I never meant to do anything wrong. Sasha needed help. And then I made a mouse, and that was all.”

The spell flowered around her, and Emily gasped as something moved, deep inside. It felt like it was lodged inside her heart, and her eyes filled with tears. It
was
the magic! Her mother was taking it away.