Authors: Kathleen Duey
“Does Terra know how?” Alida asked.
Her father nodded. “Better than I do. But if you have any trouble, I will help.”
Alida smiled, then turned around, looking for Gavin.
It was easy to spot him, as always.
He and Kary were helping William, Aunt Clare, and some of the older faeries hide the carts, harnesses, and looms beneath branches and leaves,
with a layer of weather magic laid upon them like a blanket on a bed so that rain and snow wouldn't ruin them.
When Alida walked up, Aunt Lily was telling everyone what to do.
She seemed happier than usual.
Alida suddenly wondered if her aunt had minded that
she
hadn't become queen. Or maybe she hadn't really wanted to?
“Did you finish your nest so that you can sleep like a bird?” Gavin asked, flapping his arms like wings.
Alida laughed. “You're just jealous because you can't fly.”
“I am jealous,” he said, and took her hand. “I am really going to miss you ⦠and all this,” he said, looking around the clearing. “But I need to go home to my grandmother and Ruth.”
Alida knew he couldn't stay, but she didn't want him to leave.
He ruffled her hair. “They will both be worried,” he said.
Alida forced a smile. “Tell them hello for me, please.”
He looked up at the sky, then at Alida. “I'll come to visit.”
Alida nodded. “Soon, I hope.”
“I talked to your father about it,” he said. “It can't be often, but I will. I just hope someday you can come visit us. Maybe for Winter Feast or after harvest. People sing and dance. It's fun.”
Alida knew she should say something, but her voice was trapped inside her throat.
She could only nod and try not to cry.
They hugged. “Be careful, little sister,” he whispered.
“Gavin is going home!” Kary announced.
Aunt Lily heard her. “The human boy is leaving,” she shouted.
Alida almost laughed aloud, remembering how wary of Gavin they all had been at first.
Now they were all talking at once, gathering around him to say good-bye.
When he finally managed to leave, Alida watched until he disappeared into the forest.
A
lida and Terra had fun making their nest. The first night they slept in it, they lay awake talking about everythingâincluding how brave their mother was.
“Would you mind being queen?” Terra asked her.
“It scares me to think about it,” Alida admitted.
“Me too,” Terra answered. “I don't think I could make decisions all the time. I'd be afraid I was wrong.”
Alida nodded and sighed. “But one of us has to be queen.”
Terra didn't answer, and they both stared up at the stars until they fell asleep.
* * *
A few mornings later their mother called everyone together.
“See that oak tree?” she asked, pointing toward the edge of the meadow.
Everyone turned to look. The oak was big, with a lot of low-hanging branches.
“If you hear hoofbeats or strangers' voices,” she said, “tell everyone around you instantly. Make sure everyone knows.”
She paused, her face serious and intent. “Then gather beneath that tree. Quickly. And stand close together.”
Alida understood what she meant.
Everyone did.
Whether it was farmers from Ash Grove or guards or riders wearing silk jackets, her mother would make them invisible again.
It was a perfect plan.
The tree wasn't far, but there were no nests in it. It looked like part of the wild woods. There was
nothing about it to draw the attention of the guards.
“Once we are invisible,” her mother said, “we can simply be quiet until it's safe.”
Everyone nodded.
“What about the cows and the goats?” a boy named Aldous asked. Alida barely knew him, but she had noticed that he talked to Terra as often as he could.
Alida's mother looked at him. “You can be the one to make sure they are tethered at the other end of the meadow, and use a little sleeping magic to keep them quiet.”
Aldous nodded.
“We are going to practice at odd times,” Alida's mother warned them. “Pretend it's real. It will be one day.”
That evening when everyone was about to go to sleep, Alida's mother whispered, “I hear hoofbeats!”
Alida and Terra leapt up out of their newly made nest and glided to the ground.
The alarm spread fast, but the faeries bumped
into each other and it took far too long for everyone to get to the oak tree. They talked about how they could do it faster next time.
Then they went to bed.
Two days later Alida's mother interrupted dinner with another practice. They were faster. Much faster.
By the third time the families had made up ways to alert one another.
Some whistled like birds, others had hand signals.
Each elder was assigned two helpers. Mothers with more than three children got helpers too. The fourth practice was the best. No one hesitated. No one had to double back to find friends or to see if anyone needed help.
The fifth time Alida's mother whispered the warning everyone was gathered under the tree moments later.
Knowing what to do if guards came made everyone feel better.
Alida heard faeries laughing more, singing while they worked.
Her mother kept practicing the magic.
It was usually late in the evening, in the dusk, where no one else would see her.
Alida began practicing the magic again too, every night after Terra had fallen asleep. The words were getting easier, but her fingers were still clumsy.
She asked her mother for help and was almost sure she could do it once they had finished.
“Have you told anyone you are learning?” her mother asked.
Alida shook her head.
“Good,” her mother said. “Keep it between us for now.”
As her mother walked away, Alida wondered how many secrets she had to keep because she was queen.
The faeries worked hard as spring passed into summer.
They planted all the lilies they had brought with them.
They dug ditches to carry creek water to new flower beds and planted the wildflower seeds they had brought.
Alida took her turns watching the cows and the goats.
It was a difficult chore.
The goats would eat grass for a while. But when no one was looking, they ate tree leaves and chewed bark.
The cows were always trying to wander away.
“We need a fence, like we had before,” Alida's father said one night as they were all eating their supper of flowers and berries.
“If we build fences, some human will think this meadow is a new farm and come to meet the new neighbors,” her mother said.
Her father was shaking his head. “But we'll need sheds, too. We have to store cheese for next winter
and the weavers need a place to keep the yarn they spin.”
Aldous stood up. “We might have to keep using magic. We could make it so that rain, snow, and hail couldn't fall in a small area. Then we could make it so it never got too cold there either. And to keep the mice outâ”
“A wooden shed is better for all those things than magic is,” Aunt Lily interrupted.
“I wish we had caves here,” Alida's mother sighed. “That's the only thing I miss about the other place.”
“Could you make wooden fences and planked sheds that stayed invisible?” Alida asked.
“Maybe,” her mother said. “But William is right. Complicated magic is always dangerous.”
“I wonder why we came back here sometimes,” William muttered. “All this hiding! It's all we think about now. Our queen is making
hiding
magic!”
“Before Lord Dunraven made his law,” Aunt Lily said quietly, “we hired human carpenters to build a
wooden bridge over the creek once. We paid them with good suppers and simple magic.”
“I remember that old bridge,” Alida's mother said. “I never knew who built it.” There was so much sadness in her voice that no one said anything more.
Alida lay awake all night thinking. And just before dawn she got an idea. She slipped out of the nest and glided to the ground.
Her mother was walking around the clearing, eating dandelions for breakfast.
Alida ran to catch up. “We could grow small trees and tall bushes in wide circles around the sheds and the pastures,” she said. “Blueberries and serviceberries and crab apples and wild mulberries, all planted in a jumble to look like they're part of the woods andâ”
Alida's mother suddenly scooped her up and flew low in a zigzag pattern away from the nest-trees so that their giggles wouldn't wake anyone.
Then she glided downward. “Thank you so much,
Alida!” she said. “Simple and clever and no magic involved at all.”
“You used to carry me like that when I was little,” Alida whispered, breathless and laughing as her mother landed. “I had forgotten it.”
Her mother nodded and set her down. “When you were a baby, you loved it.” She looked around. “I just hope no one saw me break my own rule.”
Alida meant to laugh. But all the sadness of the years she had been away from her family, all the laughter and love she had missed flooded her heart and she started to cry.
Her mother held her close. “I should never have let Lord Dunraven take you away.”
“I know you had to,” Alida said, wiping her eyes. “You're the queen. You couldn't think just about me. Or yourself.”
Her mother touched her hand. “I only hope you can forgive me. It was the hardest decision I have ever had to make.”
Alida kissed her mother's cheek. “That scares me.”
“The idea of being queen?” her mother whispered. “Making hard decisions?”
Alida nodded. “Terra and I talked about it. We're both scared.”
Her mother held her closer. “You both have a lot of time to grow up and ⦔
She stopped midsentence and turned to face the woods.
Alida heard hoofbeats far away.
Without another word they ran in separate directions to wake everyone.
Before long the faeries were all under the oak tree, invisible. Alida was holding her breath, listening to the plodding hoofbeats, glad the cattle and the goats were tethered at the other end of the clearing.
She hoped desperately that it was lost travelers who would just ride past.
But the hoofbeats changed direction.
They came closer and closer ⦠then stopped.
The faeries stood still as stone.
“This is it,” Alida heard a man say very quietly. “A big, empty meadow.”
Whoever he was talking to answered him in a whisper.
Then the first man rode forward, coming out of the dawn shadows and reining in so close to where the faeries stood that they could see him clearly in the gray dawn light.
A second man followed.
Both horses wore silver armor. The men carried swords.
Guards
.
Alida pressed her fist against her mouth. Her knees were shaking.