Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series) (33 page)

Leave, leave, leave
,
s
he mouthed the words
,
willing them back
in
to the hole they came from.

“Brandon?”
s
he whispered with urgency.

N
o answer
.
Glory
sprang from the bed giving him a hard shake
.

Crackly voices came from the hall
.
The intruders were returning
!
Sh
e sprung into bed, flattened h
er
body,
and
pulled the cover
over her head.
Wait, no,
better not
,
that’ll give me away.
She tucked them under her chin instead, trying hard not
to
hyperventilate
. Their
clunky
footsteps came closer and
s
he sensed
them gathering around
her
bed
.
Then something soft tickled her forehead
.

“Hmmm,” one of the intruders said. “That’s strange.”

O
ily drops hit h
er
face.
Glory
involuntarily winced
.

"The wake-up elixir isn’t working
either,” one said. “
I told ye not to use as
much
sleep dust
on th
is one.
”

Another answered testily,
“
I know what ye told me, but
the
question
be,
what do ye be meaning
?
Are ye saying I don't know what I be doing?
”

"Aye. Sprinkle it again.
”

More oily drops touched h
er
skin
.

“
Wake up
.
”

Glory
acted
as if
s
he didn’t hear them
.
Suddenly, the covers were flung off
her
.
Fingers like hot pinchers curled around h
er
forearm, yanking upward.
Glory
sat up
right, eyes wide, feeling like
s
he might pee there on the spot.

The closest one stood there with
his
white feather in hand. She eyed it like a rattlesnake as he brought it to her forehead.

“Let us try this again,” he said, tapping her vigo
rous
ly.

The feather felt like a mop on her sweaty forehead, but at least it didn’t hurt. In fact, it did nothing.

The three men looked at her rolling their hands as if waiting for something to happen. After a minute
,
the closest one examined his feather, looked up at his companions and shrugged.

“Rock Collector, do ye understand what we’re saying?”
asked the man with the spike in his hat.

She held her covers tighter and nodded.

“
Well, then, g
ood evening to ye,”
he gree
ted
.

All
Glory
could do was gape. With their big heads, large noses
,
sagging cheeks,
and
wormy
beards
—
G
lory
thought they were about the most unattractive creatures
s
he’d ever seen
.
Glory
looked at the
intruders
and
the
intruders
looked at h
er
.
One
tipped his
gray
hat to her
, revealing
a
blotchy
baldhead
. The other smiled, revealing ugly
mottled
gums
,
and sharp
grayish
teeth with gaps between each one
.
Glory
flipped the blanket over h
er
head
.

“
Go away
,
”
s
he said
timidly
.

They stood there in place not going away.

“Whaddaya want?”

“Ye
be
the
R
ock
C
ollector—
aye
?”

“
I g-guess so.”

“
Don't be scared,
”
one of the men patted
Glory
’s
knees through the covers
.
Glory
yelped and scooted against the
headboard. The man's voice crackled like paper
.
“
We mean ye no harm.
”

“Give
the
Rock Collector
some space,” one of them said
.
The three intruders stepped away from the bed, but continued to stare
.

Slowly,
Glory
pulled down the covers
.
“
Wh-who are you? Wh-what do you want?
”

“
Um
...
”
The first one hesitated, holding up his empty palms to the second one, who stepped forward.

“
We be
...
we be
...
elves?
”
h
e said, glancing at his companions as if he needed confirmation as to what he was
.

“
Aye.
”
The other two nodded vigorously
.

She
looked them up and down
.
The toes of their shoes did not curl or jingle and looked more like army boots than elf attire
.
Glory
chastised h
erself
for considering their claim for even a second
.
Good grief, I’m
too old for this.
The fattest one's beard was longer than the others
were
.
He had a
white feather tucked into his hatband, so
Glory
dubbed him
White Feather
.

They were lying about being elves
, but remembering
how they’d bitten the heads of squirrels
,
and the folklore
about
Wybbils
dining on children,
Glory
didn’t feel up to
challeng
ing
the
m on it
.
B
etter
to
play along until
s
he figured out what to do
.
Fingers clutched the blanket tightly
. S
he
glanced over to Brandon who was snoring away
.
What a useless brother
.

Glory
’s
limbs trembled,
but
she
couldn’t resist testing their claim of
elfdom.

"Are you the kind of elves that hang out with Father Winter?
”
Glory
tr
ied to maintain the air of innocence.
“
I'm asking because you sort of look like elves, but you’re much scarier than I’ve seen in pictures
.
Are you sure you’re elves?"

“
We be what we be,
”
said the
self-proclaimed
elf with the
... 
was that a rib bone in his hatband
?

Glory
swallowed hard, but it was difficult without saliva
.
“Uh, n
ice bone in your hat there
.
I’ve always thought elves were partial to cookies, not ribs.”

The men stood there tight-lipped
.

“
Are you the kind of elves that deliver presents to children on Father Winter's night?
”
she persisted.

There was a short pause. White Feather said,
“
We like to check in on
the
boys and girls now and then to see if they
’ve
be
en
bad or good.
”