First Aid for Fairies and Other Fabled Beasts Page 16

  “Our elders,” Rona whispered to Helen. “That’s my mum.”

  They were carrying a carved wooden box, passing it round, always to the right, so that they each held it for a moment. The crowd opened to let them through.

  Then Yann’s father stood by the shining white stone, opened the box and lifted out the Book that Helen had spoken to only that morning. Placing the Book gently on top of the stone, he opened it and called in a clear, carrying voice:

  “A delegation from the western forests wishes to ask the first question. Step forward, Brother.”

  A low grey form, shaped like a man but with a line of shaggy fur down his back, stepped forward and spoke in a growling voice:

  “Honoured Book. The faery queen of the forest folk is sending heralds to prepare the way for her home-coming to the new forests of the west. Those of us who have homes there fear her return and her changeable moods. We question her right to drive us away after so many centuries’ absence.”

  Helen looked at Rona beside her and Rona shrugged.

  A sudden wind blew from the sea and rippled the Book’s pages. When they settled the centaur read:

  “Brother, the Book answers you. Those wooded lands that are hers are hers by ancient right. Those wooded lands that have never been hers, she may covet but she should not take, whether by charm or cunning or force. So there will still be forests you may dwell in, if you can defend them.”

  The questioner nodded his thanks and slipped away into the crowd.

  Then the centaur called out again. “Honoured and Revered Book. The second question. There have been sightings of the Master of the Maze in our lands these last days. Need we fear him and his creatures this winter?”

  The pages moved again in a breeze that didn’t reach Helen and her friends on the mound. When the paper settled, the glowing white centaur read:

  “No, you need not fear him, for this year he has been defeated by the elders of the future and the healer’s child.”

  There was a murmur round the crowd and a cheer started up.

  The centaur raised his powerful voice over the noise. “And finally, Honoured Book, is there another question we should ask this year?” Rona whispered to Helen, “If we have a spare question we always ask this, just in case there is anything new we need to know. If the Book wants to reveal its travels and our quest, it will do so now.”

  Helen felt Rona go tense beside her. She heard Yann take a deep breath and saw Lavender bite her little lip. Sapphire’s scales were dull with anxiety.

  The pages rippled again, right to the end. Then the wind died down and the pages stopped moving. Yann’s father read:

  “How do you make amends when you have broken the rules? Fix the damage done, retrieve the things lost and fear the anger of those betrayed.”

  There was puzzled silence for a moment, then Yann’s father and the other elders bowed to the Book, placed it in carefully back in its box and carried it away, whispering among themselves.

  Rona and Lavender hugged each other, then both hugged Helen, while Yann gave Sapphire a hearty thump between the wings.

  “The Book has forgiven us!” squealed Lavender. “Our punishment was to fear their anger, not to feel it!” She gasped, “Oh, I must go. Our flower dance is the first show!” She flew off as fast as a hawk diving.

  “This is a good place to watch Lavender dance. We will stay here,” said Yann.

  “Do you all perform at the gathering?” asked Helen.

  Rona answered, “No. Some families, like Lavender’s, practise for months and do really fancy things. Others, like the centaurs, think entertaining a crowd is beneath them!” Rona laughed. “Selkies sometimes sing, but my mum isn’t singing this year.”

  She looked at Helen. “We could perform together though. I saw your fiddle in your bag. You must have thought of playing it here.”

  Helen watched as dozens of fairies spiralled up from the grass, twisting and spinning like seeds caught on the breeze. She saw Lavender, bright in her white dress, in the midst of many colours.

  “I don’t think I should play to your families and friends. They don’t really like humans, do they?”

  “Nonsense. We tell so many stories about humans that most would be fascinated to see a real one close up. Anyway, I can’t sing the song without you because we wrote it together, and so much of it is yours alone.”

  “But won’t the song tell everyone about how you lost the Book?”

  “No, it is like an olden-days tale; a quest. It won’t seem real, will it, Yann?”

  “Rona needs to sing before this gathering sometime soon in order to be accepted as a sea-singer by her people.” He smiled at the selkie. “But sometimes she’s shy! Would you find it easier with the healer’s child than on your own?”

  Rona objected, “It’s not that I’m shy. It’s her song too. She asks the questions and she puts the broken bits back when the melody fractures.”

  Helen said, “I need to play too, at my school concert on Monday, to be accepted for the music school I want to go to next summer.” She thought for a moment, then nodded.

  So Rona and Helen sat watching the fairies’ intricate aerial dance above the white stone, and hummed the tune to each other, finding their way round each other’s notes.

  When the fairies had finished, and Lavender was back with them, perched breathless on Yann’s shoulder, Rona took Helen’s hand and Helen grabbed her fiddle. They walked down the small hill to the back of the crowd.

  Rona pushed past various beasts and peoples, most of whom Helen couldn’t identify, though they avoided the group with the yellow eyes and fur running down their spines. When they reached Rona’s mother, Rona whispered to her and the short woman looked briefly at Helen. Then she nodded and turned away again.

  Some small bearded men were juggling rocks in the middle of the gathering, and when they had finished, Rona led Helen out into the centre. “Just a moment,” Rona said and vanished.

  Helen looked round at the circle of faces, large and small, all staring at her; most curious, some hostile. She had a moment of panic.

  Then she heard a note from the ground and looked down. Rona was still there but now she was a seal. Helen laughed as she remembered Rona saying she sang better as a seal. This was exactly how their quest song was meant to be performed!

  She brought her fiddle to her shoulder and they began. Although they had never actually played the whole piece together, nor rehearsed with Rona as a seal, Rona’s high unwavering voice and Helen’s soaring music worked perfectly together. They knew the story so well and could still feel the fear of failure, the frustration of the riddles, the pain of battle, the concern for each other and the final relief of success.

  This was the perfect place to compose the ending. So they did.

  When the quest song was over, the gathering cheered loudly, and Rona, dressed again in her blue dress, smiled shyly and bowed. Helen bowed too and waved to Yann and the others up on the mound.

  When they left the centre of the circle, the tall willowy woman took their place and started to tell how the northern islands were created, from stones thrown by ancient giants in battle. As Helen and Rona returned to the mound, there were fewer hostile faces in the crowd than before; some people and beasts smiled directly at Helen and even patted her on the back.

  Before their friends could tell them what they thought of the performance, a red streak buzzed up to them and hovered just in front of Lavender.

  It was a wizened little fairy in a dress made of poppy petals. She twittered to Lavender, “If I heard the Book’s answers and that selkie song correctly, then you have been very busy lately, you and your great daft hulking friends.” She waved her wand vaguely at the other fabled beasts, who all ducked. “But I am glad you got it right in the end. That is often — though not always — the only thing that matters.”

  Then she darted over to Helen and peered at her. “So you are Lavender’s human friend. She’ll grow out of it eventually I’m sure, o
r you will. In the meantime, be welcome at our gatherings. If you keep our secrets, we will keep yours. Oh, and don’t pester her for love potions or tinctures to get rid of spots. That’s very tiresome.” And she flew away.

  Yann grunted. “They will all know in the end, won’t they? But that song means we are already telling the story from our point of view. If you sing it often enough, Rona, then our version of foolish curiosity followed by bravery will be stronger than anyone else’s accusations of stupidity or treachery.”

  Rona said to Helen, “I think Yann is right. We should play it together to our people when we can. Will you join me again in our quest song?”

  “Of course, but I would also like to play it next week, Rona, at my school concert, because I need to play a piece I really care about, and this quest song is perfect for me. Do you mind if I just do the tune, without your voice?”

  “You don’t want me to go on stage with you in my seal self?” Rona tried to sound offended but then laughed. “Your human audience will never know what it’s missing.”

  Yann sighed deeply as if all his questions had been answered, then settled on the ground, his legs bent under him. Lavender stayed perched on his shoulder, and Rona sat on the grass, leaning against Yann’s flank.

  Helen stood awkwardly nearby for a moment, then Sapphire growled a comment and took off towards the gathering.

  “Do the dragons dance too?” Helen asked.

  “No, they do a firework display,” said Yann. “Please, sit down with us and watch.”

  Helen sat down beside Rona, leaning back on Yann’s warm flank. Lavender dimmed the light balls around their heads as six dragons met in the sky above. It was not possible to see their colours in the dark but Helen thought Sapphire was probably the smallest one.

  Suddenly, the dragons began to send arcs of sparks and flames into the darkness. There were no startling explosions like a human firework display, but a constant roar from the dragons’ throats.

  They created worlds of fire, globes, boxes and pyramids; they caught golden sparks in meshes and nets of flame; they made red-hot rubies and white-hot diamonds and strung necklaces with the stars.

  Finally, they created a huge waterfall of rainbow f lame falling towards the earth, which faded and went out only a hand-span above the watchers’ heads.

  The roaring stopped and the sky went dark. Still dazzled by the display, Helen heard a tapping noise behind her. Yet there was nothing there but Yann’s warm ribcage … and the pouch around his waist.

  “Can you hear that?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Yann, “Catesby’s hatching already. Soon we will all be together again.”

  Read on for a sneak preview of Helen’s next adventure in Lari Don’s new book,

  Wolf Notes and Other Musical Mishaps.

  Helen walked up to the boy with the dark red hair and the chestnut horse’s body, whispering, “Hello, Yann.”

  “Healer’s child!” The centaur’s voice was sharp with surprise.

  She glanced at the pale girl by his hooves. “Does your friend need my help?”

  Rather than waiting for an answer, Helen slid her hands under one side of the bookcase. The centaur leant down as low as he could and grasped the other side. On his whispered count of three, they heaved the bookcase off the girl. She groaned, but didn’t move.

  They propped the empty bookcase between a flowery armchair and the wall, then started lifting books and sheet music off the girl.

  The bookcase had been filled with printed music, but metronomes and music stands had also been piled onto its deep middle shelves.

  After Helen and Yann had shifted the loose paper, they realized that a metal joint from a music stand had stabbed the girl in the upper arm. When she saw Helen staring at her, the girl bared her teeth in a growl, or possibly an attempt at a smile through the pain.

  Helen knelt beside her. “I’m going to pull the metal out of your arm, then cover the wound, if you’ll let me.”

  The girl looked up at Yann, who smiled reassuringly. The metal spike had penetrated the girl’s skin, but hadn’t cut too deeply into her arm.

  “Yann, hold her tight. This might hurt.”

  Yann’s front legs knelt on the floor and he grasped the girl’s shoulders. Helen put one hand on the girl’s left elbow and with the other she steadily pulled the length of metal out of the girl’s arm. The girl whimpered, once.

  The wound started to overflow with blood. Helen opened the rucksack. She stemmed the bleeding with sterile swabs, then lifted the arm high, to slow the flow. “Hold it up for a minute, then I’ll bandage it.”

  She kept her hand curled round the girl’s elbow to take the arm’s weight, then finally looked straight at Yann.

  “What are you doing here?” they both whispered at once.

  There was a moment’s silence. Then they both spoke again.

  “What are …?”

  Helen sighed. Yann scowled.

  “You first,” offered Helen.

  “Me first,” demanded Yann.

  She grinned. He cleared his throat. “Your home in Clovenshaws is many miles away, to the south and east of these forests. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for the music summer school; the one I was auditioning for when we met last winter. Professor Greenhill has rented the lodge for our school and, at the end of the week, we’ll be performing nearby for a specially invited audience. You live miles from here too, Yann. Why are you here? Why have you and your friend broken into our rehearsal room?”

  “I can’t tell you why we are here, just that you must leave. This is not a safe place for human children, especially ones so skilled in music. You must go. Now!”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” Helen’s whisper cracked into a yell. The girl between them said softly, “How do you know this human child, Yann? Did you know she was here? Is that why you wouldn’t let my brothers howl tonight; why you wanted me to be tame, just ripping drums and biting strings, rather than scaring the sleepers themselves?”

  Helen twisted round to look at the shelves of instruments under the window. Two African djembes had rolled onto the floor, their drum skins torn open.

  “Did you slash those drums?” Helen snapped.

  The girl ignored her. “Who is this human, Yann, who speaks to you as if you were her friend and to me as if I were her dog?”

  Yann said in a formal voice, “Let me introduce you. This is Helen Strang, the healer’s daughter, who helped me and my friends when we fought the Master of the Maze last winter. She healed my leg, gave Sapphire back her sight, saved Lavender’s life and answered many riddles. She is a friend to fabled beasts.”

  He gestured at the girl on the floor. “This is Sylvie …”

  “Don’t tell her who I am!”

  Yann smiled. “This is Sylvie Hunt, a shy friend of mine. I’m helping her defend the fabled beasts’ territory in the West Highlands. But you won’t be able to help us, healer’s child, as your presence — and your music — will aid our enemies. So you must go.”

  “No! I’m not leaving until after the midsummer concert.”

  “You are leaving now, girl.” Yann’s voice was harsh. “Or we will drive you away.”

  “Why is this place so dangerous? Is the Master of the Maze here?”

  “No, he has returned to his old labyrinth to heal his wounds and grow his hair. But here is a greater danger for a human child than even the Master. We can’t tell you any more, as knowledge can draw humans towards the danger. I can only ask you to leave. Please, Helen.”

  Yann had never called Helen by her name before, not to her face.

  “Please go home, Helen.”

  She acknowledged the offer of deeper friendship with a smile. “Thank you for caring about my safety, Yann. But my week at this summer school isn’t about safety, or even about friendship. It’s about music. This is a once in a lifetime chance to play the greatest music, with the greatest musicians. I’m not running away.”

&nb
sp; The girl on the floor laughed.

  “They’ve enchanted her already! ‘A once in a lifetime chance!’” she repeated sarcastically. “It would be a lifetime! Human girl, listen to your friend. If his gentle persuasion doesn’t work, my brothers won’t be so soft.”

  This time, she did growl.

  Helen laid the bandaged arm in the girl’s lap and looked at her thin face.

  “What are you?” Helen asked bluntly.

  “I’m Sylvie. Yann told you.”

  “He told me who you are. Hello, Sylvie. Nice to meet you, Sylvie. Now what are you? And why are you trying to drive me away?”

  “Do you really want to know?” The girl’s yellow eyes narrowed, her lips drew back and her long teeth gleamed white in the light from the lacy lampshade above.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  Helen felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle …

  To be continued…

  Copyright

  Kelpies is an imprint of Floris Books

  First published in 2011 by Floris Books

  © 2008 Lari Don

  Lari Don has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the Author of this Work.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the prior permission of Floris Books, 15 Harrison Gardens, Edinburgh

  www.florisbooks.co.uk

  British Library CIP Data available

  ISBN 978–086315–852–0