Silence and Stone (5 page)

The voices stilled.

There was a silence, then a sliding sound, and the door opened a little. “Who is there?”

“My name is Alida,” she said, standing in the shadows.

“I am Ruth Oakes,” the woman said, leaning out, squinting. “Are you ill? Are you in need of my help?”

“No,” Alida said, and finally understood why the girl in Ash Grove had thought she might be sick. Ruth Oakes was a healer.

“Are you by yourself, child?”

It was a different voice. Someone she couldn't see.

“Yes,” Alida answered.

Ruth smiled. “Come in.” She opened the door wider. “Are you hungry?”

Alida pulled her shawl closer and picked up her blanket, hugging it against her chest. Then she went up the steps. Ruth stood back to let her in.

The cottage was neat and clean. It smelled of herbs, bread, and meat stew. Human food.

“This is my friend Molly Hamilton,” Ruth said.

Alida nodded, smiling nervously at the woman who stood by the hearth, stirring whatever was in a big black pot.

“Please join us for supper,” Molly said, standing up. Her hair was white, but her back was straight, and she walked with a quick, firm step. So did Ruth. Their cheeks were rosy from the night air.

“A boy named Gavin told me to come here,” Alida said, and both Ruth and Molly turned to look at her.

“Are you the—?” Molly whispered, and stopped.

“Of course she is,” Ruth interrupted. “Gavin found her!” She gestured toward a chair.

Alida sat, careful to keep her wings folded tightly against her back beneath the shawl.

“I can't believe it!” Molly said.

Alida took a long breath, but she had no idea what to say.

“Gavin is my grandson,” Molly began quietly. “But he is like a son to me. Where is he?”

Alida opened her mouth to speak, but she still couldn't find a place to start. Molly didn't look ill. Had Gavin lied for some reason?

“Tell me. Is he in danger?” Molly asked.

Alida nodded. “I think he might be.”

Molly dropped into a chair across from her, waiting, her eyes clouded with worry. Ruth stood against the far wall, silent.

“Start at the beginning,” Molly said.

Alida began slowly, then the words poured out. She told them about the little chamber, the endless silence, then Gavin's kindness. She explained their agreement and their escape. Then she told them where Gavin was now.

Molly's eyes shone with tears. “I was terribly sick. But with Ruth's help, and a thousand cups of her foul herb teas, I've gotten over it. We sent word to Gavin. We've been expecting him to come back. We never thought . . .” She lifted one hand and gestured at Alida.

“It's my fault they caught him,” Alida explained. “I promised him I would help you get well and let him think I could work magic. I can't, but I knew my mother would help. I didn't know my family was gone.” She looked at the two women, who were staring at her. “Do you know where they went? My mother can help Gavin. And she will. He saved my life.”

Ruth shook her head, “No one knows where
the faeries went after Old Lord Dunraven made his cruel law.”

“I can't fly,” Alida said, wanting them both to understand. “Or I would have followed the guards and helped Gavin myself.” She explained how he had protected her—how he'd made sure the guards would think he was a common thief. “John will pretend I'm still there,” she told them. “Maybe he can help Gavin.”

Molly wiped at her tears. Then she looked up. “I know you've done your best. I can see it in your eyes.”

But Alida knew her best hadn't been enough.

“We will decide what to do in the morning,” Ruth said. “Are you hungry? I have roses.”

Alida blushed. “No, thank you. I picked some earlier—before you got home.”

The fire was warm, and Alida began to realize how tired she was. Ruth made a pallet on the floor for her, off to the side. “Just sleep now,” she said.
“We'll eat, then do the same. Tomorrow will be a long day, and we will all need our strength.”

Alida took her shawl off and got settled as the two women went into the kitchen.

They talked in low voices.

She tried to overhear but couldn't, and her eyes finally closed.

8

Alida woke to hear Ruth and Molly arguing in whispers.

“There is no reason for you to go,” Ruth was saying. “None.”

“He is my grandson!”

“I know that!” Ruth said. “And that's why you should stay here, so in case things go wrong, you can help him later. Or simply be here when he makes his way home. I am the one who should go.”

“Too many people depend on you here,” Molly hissed back at her.

Alida sat up.

In the daylight, she could see into the next room.

The women were sitting at the table, teacups in their hands, glaring at each other.

She slipped from beneath her blanket, then out the front door.

It was a beautiful morning, the sun just coming up.

Alida could smell the roses.

She walked around the side of the house, thinking furiously.

Ruth and Molly were both wrong.

Neither of them should go. Gavin needed his grandmother alive and well, and Ash Grove needed its healer.

And they were both old women.

The castle was huge.

What if they had to run up and down tower stairs?

Whoever went would have to sneak around the castle for a long time to find out where Gavin was. Alida could be quieter than any human.

Alida noticed Ruth's wagon by the barn and stared at it.

Could either of the women ride a horse?

Wagons were slow and clumsy—it would take twice as long to get back to the castle in a farm wagon. And the guards would see them coming.

Alida walked to the rose garden and began to eat, chewing fast. If the guards had galloped all night, rested a little, then gone on, they would be back at the castle by now. Maybe Gavin was locked in one of the towers.

Alida sighed. There was no reason for her to stay here another minute. She was going back to the castle.

Alone.

Gavin had saved her life, and he would—

Her thoughts stopped when she heard a low growl.

Alida whirled around just in time to see Ruth's dog running toward her.

Its teeth were bared, its ears flat against its head.

An instant later she was hovering above the ground, her heart pounding inside her chest.

Alida looked down at the dog. Its muzzle was gray. It was old and panting, but it still jumped up, over and over, trying to reach her.

She felt breathless, scared, and amazed.

She was flying!

The dog gathered itself and jumped at her again, coming closer this time. She flew higher without an instant's thought, and its teeth clacked on thin air.

Alida had no idea what had happened.

Why could she fly? She had tried so hard to follow the guards and hadn't been able to. Was it because she had finally eaten faerie food long enough to get her strength back? Or was it something about being outside the cold stone and back where she could smell trees and see the sky? Maybe she had just been so scared of the dog she hadn't had time to think?

Whatever it was, flying felt wonderful, joyous,
right
.

She went a little higher, then stopped, her wings whirring.

The house looked small, and for a moment she was scared again. So she glided a little lower, feeling the strength in her wings. Her fears eased.

Alida heard the back door open—Molly and Ruth were coming outside.

Startled, she whirled midair, flying up and over the roof to the front yard, so the dog wouldn't see her. She came lightly to the ground and stood still.

Her wings felt different.

She
felt different.

She could fly. Now all she needed was a lot of practice.

On the other side of the house, Ruth was calling the dog.

Its name was Kip, and it stopped barking when it heard her.

Alida lifted her wings. She stood on her toes and rose into the air.

She found a high limb where she could sit, looking down into the backyard.

Ruth was rubbing Kip's ears and telling him not to bark unless he had a reason.

Alida leaned forward to see better.

She slid off the limb and let herself fall a little ways before she spread her wings.

It was so much fun she got back onto the branch and did it again.

When she hovered the second time, she saw Ruth looking up at her. Molly was facing the other way, looking at the garden. Ruth tapped Molly's shoulder. Then they were both staring upward.

Alida flew down to stand beside them.

“Alida is our friend,” Ruth scolded Kip gently. “You need to be polite.”

Alida watched Kip's ears droop. He looked sorry, then wagged his tail.

“He has never met a faerie,” Ruth said, “though he has known a unicorn or two. He was protecting us.”

Alida nodded. She watched Kip wag his tail and let him sniff at her hands.

She started to tell Ruth that she had seen unicorns once, galloping into the woods beyond Dunraven's castle. But there was no time for stories.

She stood straight and looked from Ruth's face to Molly's, then back. “Neither one of you should go to the castle,” she said. “I should.”

9

It took a long time to convince them, even though she could tell they knew she was right.

Once the argument was over, they helped her get ready.

Ruth picked a sack of roses.

Molly handed Alida a corked bottle she had filled from the rain barrel.

“You could ride my horse,” Ruth said, at least a dozen times.

Alida kept shaking her head.

She had never felt stronger in her life. She had never wanted to do anything as much as she wanted to help Gavin. She didn't want the guards to hear her
galloping up the road. And she was almost certain she could fly faster than a horse could gallop.

“You must remember the law,” Molly said as they stood in the front yard together.

“I will,” Alida promised. “No one will see me.”

Ruth had given her a bag. It held her blanket, the shawl, the roses, and the water bottle. “Good-bye,” she said solemnly. “I am forever grateful to you both.”

Ruth smiled. “And Kip. He taught you to fly.”

Alida opened her eyes wide and made a face like she was scared.

They all laughed, but it was thin and quick. They were all worried about Gavin.

“Take care,” Molly said. “Come back to us with Gavin, safe and soon.”

Alida nodded.

She held the bag tightly in one hand, then stood on her tiptoes and rose slowly, beating her wings in a steady rhythm.

She circled the house twice, getting used to the weight of the bag.

Then she waved with her free hand and started off.

She flew carefully.

It was hard to keep her balance at first, but she got better at it.

She stayed high above the ground and followed the Blue River until she got close to Ash Grove. Then she turned and stayed above the forest, flying lower, closer to the treetops.

She held the bag against her chest.

Once she was far enough away from Ash Grove, she used the road to guide her. She stayed far off to one side. She flew higher and higher. Travelers who happened to look up would see a dot in the distance. They would think she was a bird.

The earth looked strange so far below her.

The forest went on and on, in every direction, and the road looked like a single brown thread in a deep green blanket. Lord Dunraven's lands seemed endless.

By sunset Alida was tired.

She found a stand of willow trees near a creek, far from the road.

She didn't know how to make a proper faerie's nest, but the highest willow branches were slender and easy to weave into a sturdy tangle. She wrapped up in her blanket and stared at the darkening sky. And so she fell asleep beneath the moon, far above the ground, swaying with a whispering breeze.