Airily Read online

  “Wow,” Airily gasped. Airily didn’t know much about wards, but she realized Burn could’ve been showing off.

  The crow smirked and looked pleased. “It’s a blood ward. It takes a sacrifice of blood and body to deactivate.”

  “Ouch,” Airily said. “I’m used to plain, old padlocks.”

  “Come on.” Burn gestured as she hopped down the first step.

  The shaft was too narrow for a fae Burn’s size to fly; she hopped down the stairs two or three at a time. Airily could have fluttered straight to the bottom. Of course, just about anything could be down there, waiting in the darkness. She quickly decided to let the crow lead the way.

  Ten minutes of dizzy spiraling and Airily asked, “How much farther?”

  “Not much,” Burn said. She jumped down three more steps. “Before the threshold, there’s a fairy ring. I’ll have to carry you across.”

  “Because I don’t have any magic, right?” Airily landed on the step just behind Burn.

  “You have some magic. Just not enough.” Burn turned to her. “The threshold is so close to the Fair Lands, it’s awash in magic. You’ll be able to absorb magic, maybe even use it. Not that you know how.”

  “Really?” Airily ignored the dig about her not knowing how to use magic. “Will it be permanent? Can I keep it?”

  Burn shook her head. “It’ll wear off once you’re back here.”

  “Darn.” Airily pondered Burn’s words as they descended. If she could keep visiting the threshold, maybe she’d be able to do just a little bit of magic someday.

  “There’s the ring,” Burn said, breaking up Airily’s thoughts.

  Below them, fat ears of shelf fungus ringed the inside of the tree trunk. The woody growths glowed a soft blue in the deep grey twilight of the tree’s interior. Any circle of

  mushrooms could be called a fairy ring, but very few actually led anywhere. Burn’s, of course, did, and magic tickled across Airily’s skin.

  “My parents made this vault ages ago for the torc. They left it in my keeping when they moved to Canada. If I lose that thing, I’m never going to hear the end of it,” Burn said lightly, glossing over the dire consequences she’d mentioned earlier.

  Airily felt bad asking for the Crow Clan’s treasure. She hoped they’d come back with the torc and Burn wouldn’t be banished. She wasn’t sure how she’d live with herself if that happened. No—they wouldn’t let that happen to Burn.

  “Take my hand and I’ll pull you through the fairy ring.”

  Airily jumped down a step and put her small hand in Burn’s. “Will this hurt?”

  Burn cackled. “Of course not. Now, on the count of three, jump down and don’t let go.”

  The crow’s hand closed firmly on Airily’s. Burn dropped her stance, readying to jump. Airily did the same.

  “One...two...” Burn counted, swinging their arms in time, “three!” She leaped, spreading her wings to control the fall.

  Airily yelped, pulled by Burn’s strong grip. Down they went. Airily was blinded by cobalt radiance. She panicked, unable to see the landing site. Before Airily could cry out, the light vanished. She stood beside Burn in a cave forested with tree roots and lit with shimmering mushrooms.

  Magic was everywhere, so strong Airily expected to see it swarming in the air like moths drawn to a porch light.

  Burn inhaled deeply and her skin shined with fresh power. Her back straightened and she shook out her feathers.

  “Ahh, that’s better,” Burn said.

  “What’d you do?”

  “Healed my injuries.”

  “Wow. Can you teach me?”

  “You aren’t injured.”

  “I know, but can’t I do something?”

  Burn considered. “One of the first things anyone learns is to summon a fairy light. Picture a bright spot of light, like a firefly. The magic will want to tell you what to do. Not in words, but by putting ideas in your head—especially so close to the Fair Lands. So, you must command it and not let it overpower you. Got it?”

  “Sure.” Airily nodded. “How?”

  “You repeat your instructions until it follows them. After a long time, the magic will perform.”

  “Alright.” Airily stood on tiptoe and inhaled deeply, just like Burn had. She reached out for the magic, and instead of it slipping away like it always had, it watched and waited.

  Airily held out a hand and said, “Make a fairy light.”

  Nothing happened.

  “Make a fairy light,” she said again. “I order you.”

  Burn stifled a laugh. “It doesn’t always work the first time. Come on.”

  “One more,” Airily said. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused with all her strength, picturing a firefly-sized yellow light in the palm of her hand.

  Burn snorted, “Well, I’ll be.”

  Airily opened her eyes, and a speck of green light floated above her hand. Giddy triumph washed over her. The fairy light was far smaller than she imagined, the size of a mite rather than a firefly, but she’d made it from her will and magic.

  She focused on her creation, feeding more magic into it. The fairy light grew larger and brighter, reaching the size

  Airily had visualized. But then the magic turned on her,

  flaring orange and becoming a scorching hot spark.

  “Ow!” Airily dropped it and blew on her burnt palm. The spark guttered out in the dirt.

  “Come on, Merlin. We have work to do.” Burn waved her hand and summoned a yellow-green fairy light that bobbed in the air over her head. She strode ahead, ducking under some low hanging tree roots, leaving Airily to run after her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  B

  urn moved through the softly lit cave as it stretched on and on. Airily wondered if they were lost and Burn didn’t want to admit it. Roots cast long, confusing shadows, and Airily couldn’t tell what direction they were going. Of course, the threshold might not have direction, just like it had no time.

  She was about to ask when they passed into a wide cavern, home to a chandelier of glowing mushrooms. At the far end of the space was a door carved with luminescent runes. The door was as tall as Josh and looked incredibly heavy.

  Guarding the vault was the biggest, wart-encrusted stone toad Airily had ever seen. It was the size of a dog—and not some dainty toy poodle either. The toad’s mouth was big enough to swallow Burn, Airily, and a poodle in one gulp, with room left over for dessert.

  Airily ducked behind Burn, “Why isn’t it moving? You said it was a guardian.”

  “He’s in a state of hibernation. He’ll wake up once we get closer.”

  Airily wasn’t sure she wanted that.

  “Don’t worry,” Burn said, saving Airily from trying to come up with an excuse for her cowardice. “I know the

  passwords. Besides, he’s practically blind.”

  “Define practically,” Airily said, unwilling to step out from the cover of Burn’s tail feathers.

  “He has trouble tracking anything that isn't moving So as long as you don’t fly, you’ll be fine.”

  “That's not practically blind!”

  “If I move around, he won't even notice you.”

  “Are you sure?” Airily asked, with a squeak.

  “Pretty sure,” Burn said. “Anyway, just stay behind me.”

  Airily nodded, happy to obey for once. Burn thrust out her chin in a show of bravery and walked toward the toad.

  The toad’s stone skin cracked and split. Rocks and dirt tumbled from his form in crusty chunks. The huge guardian shook off the rubble and let out a deafening croak that echoed off the walls; even the mushrooms trembled.

  “Halt! Who goes there?” The toad belched the words. A second later, the toad's mossy breath wafted over Airily.

  “Black Burn, daughter of Storm Black and Pine Needle of the Crow Clan. I need access to the vault.”

  The toad blinked huge goggle-like
eyes and said,

  “Passwords.”

  “Rhubarb, maple, and beeswax,” Burn replied.

  “No, sorry. You have three more tries,” the toad croaked. Behind him the runes on the vault door shimmered bright yellow. There was an audible click, as though a lock turned.

  Burn grit her teeth. “Those are the passwords. Turn around, the door just opened.” She pointed behind the toad.

  “Look, missy, I’m the vault guardian. I’d know if you used the right passwords. You got them wrong.”

  “The vault is open, you senile, old fool.” Burn stomped toward the toad.

  A blur of pink lashed out with a whip crack. Airily threw herself to the floor and Burn yelped, stopping short. The bulbous, sticky end of the toad’s tongue caused a puff of dust to rise at Burn’s feet. But, as fast as it lashed out, the toad’s tongue sprang back.

  “That’s far enough, missy,” the toad croaked. “Now you only get one more chance before I eat you.” The tip of that awful, slimy tongue poked from the corner of the toad’s mouth.

  Airily wished she could crawl out of the dreadful cave. So far, the guardian hadn’t noticed her, and she aimed to keep it that way. She shifted uncomfortably. Something hard poked into her ribs. Moving very slowly, Airily reached into her vest pocket. Her hand met glass, and she realized the

  forgetting potion Owlby had originally made for Josh was still in her pocket.

  “You listen to me, Toad,” Burn snapped. “My great-grandfather, Night Feather, Steward of the Crow Clan, put you here. You work for us. Now, let me into the vault and stop calling me missy.”

  The toad reared up on fat, bumpy front legs that looked strong enough to snap a bird in half. “Not until you tell me the correct passwords.”

  “I just did! Rhubarb, maple, beeswax.”

  Burn was going to get them both killed. Best case

  scenario, Burn would get eaten and Airily would be trapped in this magical no-man’s-land until she died of thirst or

  starvation. Airily wondered if the glowing mushrooms were edible when an idea struck her. She pulled the vial of forgetting potion from her vest pocket.

  She tugged on Burn’s tail feather. “Psst.”

  “What?” Burn snapped, her anger at the toad boiling over. She glared down at Airily.

  “I have a plan,” Airily whispered, ignoring Burn’s sharp tone. She waved for Burn to squat down.

  The crow sighed and bent over.

  “You used your last chance, missy,” the toad said. “Leave now or I will eat you.”

  “Idiot,” Burn muttered. “What’s your plan, kid?”

  “Here, it’s a forgetting potion from Owlby.” Airily handed the vial to Burn. “Feed this to the toad. He’ll forget you gave him the passwords. You keep him busy while I sneak into the vault.”

  Burn frowned. She glanced at the toad, then whispered, “Alright. The torc is human-sized. When you get in the vault say this spell,” Burn slowly gave Airily a string of unrecognizable syllables. Airily repeated them, and Burn corrected her until she got it right.

  “Then what?” Airily asked.

  “The torc will shrink to your size. Whatever you do, don’t put it on, not even as a bracelet. Just stick it in your pocket. It binds all magic. I don’t know what it would do to you. No crow has ever used it.”

  Burn straightened and said, “Alright, guardian. I’m leaving.”

  She gestured for Airily to hand over the potion. Airily gave Burn the vial. Burn took it and pulled the stopper out. Then she untied one of the plain, black ribbons holding her braid. She stuffed the fabric into the vial even as she continued shuffling backward.

  “Look,” Burn cried. “A beetle!”

  She tossed the vial toward the toad, whose eyes went wide with greed. His tongue lashed out, him aim perfect.

  Before Airily could blink, the glass, potion, and ribbon disappeared into the vast cavern of his mouth.

  “Not a very good beetle. But it was very...” The toad trailed off and his eyes closed.

  “Are you sure it was a forgetting potion?” Burn

  whispered. “Looks more like a sleeping potion.”

  “I wish,” Airily said.

  The toad’s eyes popped open and he lifted himself on his forelegs. “Halt! Who goes there?”

  “Stall him,” Airily whispered.

  She headed for the nearest patch of luminous mushrooms as fast as she could belly crawl.

  “Greetings, guardian Toad,” Burn said with a low, sweeping bow. She started in on the longest and most illustrious speech Airily had ever heard. If anyone could keep Toad busy, it was smooth-talking Black Burn.

  When Airily reached the clump of mushrooms, she stood up, careful not to draw the Toad’s attention. Not that she needed to worry. Burn was regaling the amphibian with her entire family history, acting out the part of Steward Night Feather as he pulled a prank on some humans.

  Airily gripped one of the blue mushrooms at the base and pulled it free from the dirt. The stem and cap was the perfect camouflage. Holding it like an umbrella, she started for the vault door.

  Airily’s every instinct screamed to throw down the glowing mushroom. She wasn’t used to hiding in the light. She’d been taught to hide in corners and shadows the minute her wing feathers grew in and she was fledged. Carrying a glowing fungus screamed, here I am! Please, eat me! It gave her the shakes. But as long as Burn kept his attention, the toad wouldn't notice one stray mushroom.

  The toad settled back into his waiting squat, and his eyelids drooped with boredom. Airily took a few steps forward, watching the toad. He didn’t even glance her direction.

  Staying low under her mushroom cap umbrella, Airily gave the toad a wide berth. Once she made it to the back of the cavern, she hugged the dense wall of roots and made for the vault door.

  The toad croaked loudly, and Airily’s feet stumbled.

  “Alright, you’re from the Crow Clan,” the toad said. “Now, what are the passwords?”

  “Trick question, Mister Guardian Frog,” Burn said.

  “I’m not a frog. I’m a toad,” he corrected her.

  Airily approached the towering doors, intimidated by their size. They were unlocked, but what if they were too heavy for her to move? Then what? Back to Owlby’s for more potions to dose the toad with something a little stronger. That could take all night. Airily grit her teeth. She didn’t care how many trips to Owlby’s it took, the torc had to be in her hands by noon tomorrow.

  “Let’s see,” Burn said, drawing out her words. “The first password Ma told me was food related and started with the letter r, or maybe it was a b?”

  Airily backed up a few steps. Maybe with a running start, she could force the door open. She dug her talons into the dirt and charged at the vault door. Shoulder first, Airily hit the solid rune-laden wood. To her surprise, the door gave a whole two inches, and she pitched face first into the dirt.

  “Hmmm? What was that?” the toad asked.

  Airily shrank beneath the mushroom cap, holding it steady over her body.

  “What was what?” Burn asked, voice rising to cover any other noise Airily could make. “I didn’t hear anything. Maybe you’re just getting old.”

  “Old!” The toad bellowed. Judging by his outrage, Burn had the toad’s full attention. “I’ll have you know, I’m barely nine hundred years old, missy!”

  “Really? Is that all? You don’t seem warty enough to be nine hundred.”

  The toad belched out a loud croak. “Well, thank you?” The toad sounded unsure whether to be gracious or angry. “The secret to good skin is crickets.”

  Airily relaxed, letting out her breath, as she slipped farther into the vault.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A

  irily looked up, up, up, and up. The vault was the base of a living tree trunk that soared upward for miles. The circular room was lit with massive sconces of glowing shelf fungus in blues, pinks, and o
ranges as bright as dawn after a storm.

  The Crow Clan’s treasures rested on the fungal shelves: a box of gold coins, woven baskets, a shaggy buffalo hide, a carved flute that looked suspiciously like bone, pottery,

  diamond necklaces, and dozens more enticing baubles At the center of it all, coiled around an albino sapling with white leaves, was the silver torc.

  Airily took a cautious step forward. Magic radiated off some of the artifacts. The items, or their magic, were aware of her and they were watching. Airily went straight for the torc, steering clear of the buffalo hide and gold coins even though they tempted her. Her hands itched to pick up the bone flute. Sweat beads emerged on her forehead with the tremendous effort it took to stay focused. She thought of Poppa—of living without him—and her resolve held firm.

  Airily marched toward the slender, ivory sapling, but twice she had to stop and change direction. Once she found herself heading toward the buffalo blanket, and the second time she walked right past the torc’s tree and headed for an intricately woven basket. The magical clamor of the items in the room pulled her in all directions.

  Airily shut her eyes and forced herself to picture Poppa—starting with the spiky pompadour he was so proud of and ending at his disapproving frown. When Airily had Poppa’s face fixed in her mind again, she turned around and went back to the torc.

  The silver torc hung a few feet off the ground, supported by two of the sapling’s slender branches, as though the tree wore the necklace to enhance its own icy beauty. Airily

  shivered at the thought of the tree coming to life and fighting her for the artifact. Even though her feet were unwilling,

  Airily took two cautious hops forward and waited for the tree to move. Nothing. Neither rustle nor creak. She flew up and landed on the paper-thin, silky white bark.

  Up close, the torc was bigger and more beautiful than she could’ve imagined. The silver necklace gleamed in the soft multi-hued mushroom light, untarnished even after hundreds of years underground. Intricate knot patterns flowed over the surface of the twisted metal. Tiny runes sparkled with a green hue, like the sun shining through leaves. Stylized wildlife was caught midflight: a leaping stag, a running wolf, an eagle about to land. It was like staring into a clear pool of water. At first, Airily only saw the glimmering surface, but beyond were darting fish, water weeds, and tiny pebbles on the