Moon Spun (15 page)

“If you see it, then it must be.”

I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I could see land’s end and beyond it, a wide blue ocean. Huge waves crashed onto the beach and retreated, leaving a path of white foam. Gulls circled low 324

over a choppy sea.

I whirled and looked at Ryker. “How do you do that?”

He smiled. “I’m not doing it. You are.”

I guess Ryker was being enigmatic, as my English teacher, Mrs. Burke would say. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in answering my questions, because he turned and started toward the end of tunnel. I hurried after him. Then, in what seemed like the very next moment, we weren’t inside the tunnel at all. It happened that fast. I’d seen no door, no opening. We’d simply stepped from one world into another.

I gazed around in wonder. The beach was still to my left, the jungle to my right. I turned and looked behind me. The tunnel was gone. My heart fluttered in fear. What if I couldn’t find it when it was time to go home?

“Don’t worry, Ava. The tunnel will be there when you need it.”

Before I could respond, the ground beneath us began to shake, and a voice that sounded like living thunder boomed, “The mortal dares to bring iron into our world?”

I clapped my hands over my ears, frantically looking around for the source of the fearsome noise. Oh, this can’t be good, Allie. I made a move toward Ryker. Still cautious of the iron nail in my pocket, he backed away from me. Strangely, he was grinning like crazy and pointed to the pool and waterfall.

“Over there.”

I took a cautious step toward the water, vaguely aware of a high-pitched chittering sound, so piercing, so shrill, it made my teeth ache and my hair hurt. All at once, something burst from the water, reared back and let loose with an ear-splitting bellow so frightening, I screamed in terror. The ground shook harder. Or maybe it was my legs. I froze in my tracks, even though my brain said,

“Run, Allie, Run!”

The creature looked like a humongous black horse with moss-covered green scales growing out of its back, flaring nostrils and water weeds tangled in its flowing mane.

Its mouth was open, exposing large, slime-green teeth.

“What . . .is . . . that . . . thing?” I gasped.

“Avalon, meet Uncle Davey. Uncle Davey, this is Avalon,” Ryker said calmly, as if I’d been invited for Sunday dinner to meet and greet the family. “Remember, I said you’d see the error of your ways. You may not enter our world with iron. Get rid of it or Uncle Davey will have you for dinner, even if you are Melia’s kin.”

“He’s your uncle?” I squeaked. “He looks like a horse. Is he a horse?” The high-pitched sound grew louder, so painful I covered my ears again.

“Ari! Maddie! Stop laughing!” Ryker ordered. “She can’t help it. She’s a mortal.”

I had no idea who he was talking to. I had other things on my mind, like staying alive. I weighed my choices: 1. Stuck in Boundless forever. 2. Eaten by a horse-like creature with big, green teeth. No contest.

I fished the nail out of my pocket and was about to toss it over my shoulder when the thing roared, “No! You will bury it twelve crunkles deep. Hawk, you will help her.

Then, and only then, will I allow her to live.”

I knelt down and began scrabbling at the loamy soil. “How big are crunkles?” I whispered to Ryker.

“Don’t worry. I know when to stop digging.” He picked up a stick. “Stand aside. I’ll do it.”

I held my ground. “It’s my fault. I’ll dig the hole.”

Ryker said, “Do not argue and do not get near me until the iron is buried.”

“He said, stand aside!” Uncle Davey roared. Startled, I stumbled backward, tripped over my feet 325

and plopped down on my butt. The high-pitched sound increased a couple of decibels. I prayed my head wouldn’t explode. I scrambled to my feet. “Who or what is making that sound?”

Ryker kept digging. “The hedgerow pixies find you extremely amusing.”

“Pixies?”

“Over there.” He pointed at the hideous horse thing. “Sitting on Uncle Davey’s head.”

I took a cautious step toward the pool. Just then, Uncle Davey sneezed loudly and water shot out of his gigantic nostrils. The creature’s violent sneeze caused two tiny figures to shoot straight up in the air where they hovered for a few seconds before fluttering down to land on his head again. They were shrieking with laughter, as if Uncle Davey was their very own bouncy castle. Fascinated, I took another step. Ryker, who had apparently reached the magic number of crunkles, stopped digging. “I wouldn’t get to close if I were you. Uncle Davey’s still pretty pissed off.”

Ryker backed away from the hole. “Now, drop the nail in and cover it with dirt.”

I buried the nail quickly. “What happens if it touches you?”

Ryker looked grim. “You don’t want to know.”

The pixies, who I’d mistaken for dragonflies, pushed off of Uncle Davey’s head and zipped over to Ryker, landing on his shoulder. Thank God, they’d stopped laughing.

I couldn’t keep from smiling when I saw them up close. The bigger one was about four inches tall. Her straight, black hair was tied back with a tiny, glowing daisy chain and a tiara sat crookedly on the crown of her head. She wore a pink tutu and bell-shaped skirt that looked like—and probably was—made of rose petals. She launched herself off Ryker’s shoulder and hovered about six inches from my nose. My eyes crossed when I tried to focus, which caused another round of shrill laughter.

“I’m Maddie.” She twirled around to make her rose petal skirt flair out. “I’m a princess. Can you tell?” Before I could answer, the other pixie flew over to join her. “No, sister. Not you. Me.”

Maddie said, “This is my sister, Ari. She thinks she’s a princess too.” She flitted to my ear and whispered, “But really, she’s not. I am.”

Ari was shorter and obviously younger than Maddie. Where Maddie was tall and slender—at least for a pixie—Ari was sturdy. Dressed in pink cotton panties and a purple cape, her dark brown hair cascaded down her back in a tangle of ringlets. She scowled at her sister and thumped her chest. “I heard that. Ari is too a princess.”

Maddie landed on my right shoulder and folded her wings next to her body. With a little shrug, she said, “Okay, whatever.” She sounded so much like Nicole Bradford, I laughed out loud. The two pixies were so cute, I couldn’t stop smiling, at least until Maddie said, “It was Ari who did it, not me.”

“Huh? Did what?”

Both pixies giggled hysterically. I put my fingers in my ears until they stopped. Ari said, “We made wind blow under your dress during the parade. Ari saw your bare bum. Did you see it, Ryker?”

Ryker winked at me and grinned. “Oh yeah, I sure did.”

My cheeks grew so hot, I’m surprised I didn’t spontaneously combust. “Well, that wasn’t very nice. How would you like it if that happened to you?”

By way of answering, Ari, still hovering in the air, flipped around, pulled down her little pink panties and mooned me. My jaw dropped in surprise. Really, I had no words.

“HAR! HAR!” Uncle Davey apparently thought Ari was hilarious. I’d had about enough of Uncle Davey. I was about to give him a piece of my mind, when he blew water at me and sank slowly beneath the surface. Now that the threat of iron was gone, Ryker stepped up close and rested his hands on my shoulders. Ari and Maddie touched down on the top of his head. “Pixies like to do 326

mischief. They were just having fun.”

“Wasn’t so fun for me.” I grumbled.

Ryker’s eyes rolled upward. “Perhaps you two should apologize.”

“Sorry, Avalon,” the two squeaked in unison, then giggled and flew to the pool, landing on the only visible part of Uncle Davey, his flaring nostrils.

Alarmed, I called, “Be careful! You’re really, really close to that thing’s mouth.”

Ryker chuckled. “Don’t worry. Uncle Davey likes the pixies. It is humans that kelpies don’t care for except, perhaps, for a snack.”

“That’s what he is . . . a kelpie?”

Ryker nodded. “They’re also called water horses. You might want to keep your distance.”

I shuddered. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay, then. You’ve met Uncle Davey and the pixies. We got rid of the iron. There’s only one thing left to do before we move onward. Are you ready to meet your grandmother?”

327

Chapter Nineteen

I’d been following Ryker through a corn maze for what seemed like hours. How much time had passed in the mortal world? When I asked Ryker, he just shrugged. Hot and cranky, I slapped at the gigantic corn plants. “We’re in faery land, for God’s sake. Why is there a corn field in the middle of a jungle? How much longer? Can’t you get us there quicker?”

Finally, Ryker stopped and turned to face me. “Things that matter to you should not come easily. We’re in Boundless now. What looks like a corn field may be something else entirely.”

I was getting tired of Ryker’s non-answers and gave a little snort of disgust. Instantly, the corn field vanished. We stood on top of a hill, looking down into a valley. The down slope of the hill was covered with verdant apple trees.

With a cry of surprise, I said, “What just happened?”

Ryker blinked at me. “I believe you wished the corn field away.”

“You mean I could have done that an hour ago?”

Ryker just smiled.

I gazed at the landscape below. Blinked, and then rubbed my eyes. “Is that . . . ?”

“What do you see?”

“Look beyond the orchard,” I pointed. “Just there. I think I’m seeing Blaster’s pasture, our trailer and Uncle Sid’s house.” I gave him a questioning look. “Do you see it?”

“You are seeing what’s in your heart. That’s how it is in Boundless.”

That didn’t explain the corn, but who was I to argue? “What do you see?”

The warmth in his eyes should have prepared me for his answer. “I see myself in the Seelie Court, dressed in finery with you standing by my side.”

I groaned and shook my head. “Maybe we should both focus on getting to Melia. Is that going to happen anytime soon?”

Ryker took my hand. “How about right now?”

The very next moment, we were back in the jungle, but above the waterfall instead of below.

“Well, crap!” I said, looking around. “We’re back where we started. Swear to God, Ryker, what was the point of hiking through that friggin’ cornfield? I bet there’s a trail around the waterfall that would have taken us like five minutes to get up here?”

Ryker had a stubborn set to his jaw. “You needed time to prepare yourself.”

“Trust me, I’m prepared.”

“It was not the boy’s fault, child. It was me. I needed time to prepare.” I whirled toward the voice. Seated next to the wide stream tumbling into the waterfall, was a woman, seated on mosscovered throne made of rock. Partially hidden by lush green ferns and dressed in a forest green gown, she blended into the background so perfectly, I might not have seen her if she hadn’t spoken. She stood and held out both hands. Her back was straight, her bearing regal, but she was tiny, shorter even than Faye, who was six inches shorter than me. “My dear granddaughter, come to me.”

As I drew closer, I began to pick up small details I hadn’t noticed from a distance. The crown of leaves atop her head. The streaks of gray in her tangled dark hair. The smile that did nothing to lift the sadness from her eyes. Eyes, by the way, the exact same green as mine. Her skin was so transparent, I could see blood coursing through the veins in her temples.

What to do next? Should I curtsy? Bow? Kiss her hand? I needn’t have worried. Releasing my 328

hands, she reached up, cupped my face in her palms and pulled me down to her eye level. She brushed my cheek with a feathery kiss. “Ah, sweet Avalon. Thank you for coming. It seems like I’ve been waiting for this moment forever. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Surprised, I stepped back. “You have? Who from? And, really, I’m not that sweet.” Her tinkling laugher blended perfectly with the rushing water pouring into the waterfall.

“I have my ways. I’ve been keeping an eye on you and my daughter all these years.”

“Then, I guess you know Faye isn’t the happiest person in the world.”

Melia sighed and sank back down on her rock throne. “Come. Sit.” She said, pointed at a velvety red rose that popped out of the ground next to her. As I approached, the rose changed, growing larger and forming itself into a comfy armchair.

“Cool.” I smiled and sat gingerly on my chair made of rose petals. I looked around for Ryker. He stood several feet away, arms folded across his chest, staring into the distance. Melia called to him,

“You too, Hawk.”

When he squatted next to her, Melia reached out and stroked his head, like he was her favorite cocker spaniel. “Such a good boy,” she murmured. Ryker lips tightened, but he didn’t pull away.

“Ah, your mother,” Melia said. “Her life has been such a trial.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Not because of you, Ava. Never you. Faye doesn’t know where she belongs, and I blame myself. It fair broke my heart to leave her behind. It feels like a part of me is missing.”

“Well, Claude didn’t exactly help,” I said. “Putting her in a room filled with iron.”

Melia gasped and clutched her throat. “You know about that?”

“Yes, I met with Grandpa Claude. I know about the hand fasting. He told me how you met in the woods, got together, had Faye, and then you went back to faery land.”

My grandmother didn’t say a word. She released my hand, closed her eyes and slumped down in her chair. I heard a stifled sob. Okay, hadn’t I seen my mother do the same thing about a bajillion times? No problem. I’d been dealing with drama queens all my life. I bit my lower lip in exasperation. Time for a full court press.

“Excuse me, Grandmother Melia. Do I have the facts straight?”

Her eyes flew open and she sat upright. “They told me you were tough and they’re right. Good. You’re exactly the person I need to defeat Phaedra.”

I stood and stared down at her. “Tell me about this Phaedra and what it is you want me to do.”

Melia went from despairing diva to battlefield general in under sixty seconds flat. “Ryker, go find Uncle Davey and the girls. I think the pixies are nearby. Bring them too.