I was still woozy when I flew back to my tree. Shayde had healed the surface damage to my blistered fingers, but it would take a few hours for the nerves under the skin to stop aching. That, on top of the spellcasting, drinking and shock, left me longing for a quiet spot and my stolen memory beads. I needed a moment to think about what Shayde had done, and more importantly, what he had said about Fire magic.
“Junya!”
It was Mama. I rubbed the edge of my sleeve for luck as I turned to face her and prayed for a dull chore. She was resplendent in her formal blue gown, every panel embroidered with a different Clan exploit and studded with crystals.
“Get clean clothes on and help Enyon set up the air cymbals around the marketplace to protect our Earth guests. Those wing-walkers won’t know what hit them if we have an eagle attack.”
“Essss,” I said, my downward face betraying my lips. “I’ll do it.”
Mama prodded my front. “Make sure you brush and tie your hair, too. It’s unfair for the males if they see it flying free and think you can be mated.”
I bobbed my head, resisting the urge to bite her fingers bloody, as a hatchling would. If I kept quiet, I could help Jago and sneak off. She dismissed me with a finger flick, and I spent an acorn’s worth of time on my face and clothes. Another long, shapeless tunic - this time in grey - and my hair pinned behind my ears with shell clips. They matched my scowl, and Enyon said as much when I joined in.
“It can’t be that bad,” he soothed me as we hung the painted bark off the end of a branch. If a bird of prey attacked, the rune on it would exhale a gust of wind, knocking the creature off-course. The cymbals wouldn’t stop a hungry predator, but they would give us enough time to scatter to safety.
“Name one other fae my age, still in long skirts,” I challenged him. “I’m older than you! I might as well paint “failure to fly” in runes across my forehead and sit in a hen roost, waiting to be eaten by humans.”
Enyon looked less than impressed. “Stop being dramatic and hold the rune whilst I sort out the string.”
I did so, spreading my wings for balance. By this point, we had a rhythm going on the air cymbals where I would hold and he would hang them. We arranged eleven more in a spiral shape around the fair as the stallholders laid out their wares. I frowned as I spotted a flash of yellow in one of the old squirrel nests.
”Are you done?” I asked Enyon, who was balanced on tiptoe.
“Aeeei - that’s the last one. If Goron wants any more, he can hang them himself!”
I flapped my hand at him. “Have a good fairing.”
“Huh?”
I was gone, freewheeling backwards through the air before swooping into a tight turn by the squirrel nest. As I suspected, the twins were there, looking guilty and sticky in their new gorse-dyed tunics. There was an odd, sickly scent in the air.
“Fess up,” I ordered.
“Like we need to listen to you,” Jenn fired back. Jennifry licked her thumb and then the corner of her mouth. I followed the direction of her eyes to the nest wall, where the twigs were coated with something sticky and brown.
“Is that…fudge?” I said, half-amused and half-aghast. “You know it’s been banned!”
Jenifry clapped her hand over her mouth, half-giggling. Jenn shrugged. “Like Ma’s gonna ground us,” she slurred.
“Grounded,” Jenn echoed with a snort. “With the mushrooms…”
I grabbed them both by their collars and gave them a little shake. “Oh, Nion, you’re as high as the clouds. Come on. You might as well be underground, whilst you’re this sugared up.”
I might not have magic, but I was strong. With spluttering protests, I pulled them out of the nest and to a neighbouring tree with a hollowed-out trunk, where the branches split into two separate sections. Luckily, everyone was at the trade fair, so they didn’t see Jenn stumble or Jennifry throw up.
“I beg you, please, water,” she said, when she had finished decorating the earth with her dinner. I shook my head.
“I don’t have pockets in this stupid tunic. Tap a tree vein and stay out of sight until you stop feeling dizzy. Clear?”
Jennifry muttered something inaudible, and I flicked her ear tip. “Why, thank you, Junya, for saving our wings,” I said in a sing-song voice. “You have our undying gratitude and we’ll stop eating fudge before our teeth rot away with our brains.” My voice morphed into a growl. “...so stay here until you are better.”
“Ma wants us to open the fair with a quartet display,” Jenn said, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes.
I swore then, startling a small tree-creeper close to us. “I’ll cover for you,” I said, thinking fast. “A flirtation, or something. Everyone knows you’re easily distracted.”
Jenn chose that moment to vomit, so I escaped whilst I still had clean clothes.
I drifted back up to the fair, looking for Mama. I needed to find her before the music started, which was not easy, given the number of stalls laid out across the tree. Finally, I spied her perched on a gnarled knot near the top of the tree, talking to Harmonnic Sennen. I crept within earshot, but out of eyesight below them.
“...Shayde is convinced it’s going to happen,” Ma said, sounding unhappy. “He says this human is not like the others. He’s obsessed with our kind.”
I pricked up my ears. Shayde had a human friend? Or was it a foe? Was this where he’d learned to handle iron?
Sennen’s wings rustled in irritation. I knew that sound too well.
“I can handle Shayde,” she said. “And no man in a thousand years has withstood me. Do not concern yourself with rumours, Bryluen. You’ve a lineage to lead.”
“But…” Mama said.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I near-screamed. Treth spun me to face him, large, white wings framing his body and a finger on his lips for silence. I nodded, breathing fast. I don’t know how an albino fae could move through the shadows unseen, but Treath managed it. He was the best scout out of the three Clans, earning the nickname “Ghost” for his skill.
Treth tugged me away from the tree trunk to another clump of foliage.
“Eavesdropping, Junya?” he asked me, mildly. “You are terrible at it.”
I blushed, staring down at my feet. “It wasn’t intentional, “ I mumbled. I peeped up at him, trying for innocence and failing.
“Mmmm-hmmm,” Treth said, seeing right through my act. This close, I could see the intricate black tattoos on his collarbone and smell the lavender in his hair. “Everyone else in your family flies to the centre of attention, but I always see you at the edge. You want to see, not be seen. It’s very intentional.”
I opened and closed my mouth rapidly. “You watch me?” I said. It came out as a kind of squeak. Treth gave me a half-smile. “I watch everyone,” he said. “Sennen leads, I guard, and you dance.”
“Dance?” I said stupidly.
“The fair’s about to open with a welcome dance. Let’s go down.”
We descended rapidly. Since our guests were Earth Clan, the dances would take place on the ground. Treth abruptly stopped on the lowest rungs of the tree and grasped my wrist. “I’m glad you observe, Junya. Trouble is coming, and I need extra eyes to help me.”
“Trouble with Harmonic Shayde?” I asked carefully. Treth winced.
“No,” he said, after a pause. “Shayde forecasts doom as fast as he makes new machines - they both spring from his fevered imagination. No, I want you to watch out for ripples. Like…the end of a stone thrown in water, but for emotions. Anyone who acts a little strange or afraid, or angry.”
“That’s most of us, some of the time,” I said with a chuckle.
Treth tugged at my hair, rearranging the clips. “True. We’re a volatile lot. But there’s normal wildness and then there’s chaos with an edge.” He looked down at me with his light, violet eyes. “When you see that, Junya, no matter how small - come and find me.”
Treth might not be an Elder, but he wasn’t someone easy to refuse, either. “Very well,” I agreed. I was rewarded with a smile.
“Enjoy the fair,” he said, and left me huddled on the branch. “Try to dance without stamping.”
I looked across at the crowd and felt overwhelmed. My hatchmates were a loud, jubilant mess, Jago bobbing up and down whilst Geliss and Gryft were openly flirting with outside Clan members.I felt a headache come on and I wanted a bit of silence. That wasn’t very Sky fae - we soothed ourselves through movement - but I was starting to realise I wasn’t like everyone else.
Instead of making my excuses or joining in, I half-flew, half-fled through the upper bushes and collided with a hidden male. He had damp hair, ragged clothes and stank of badger.
“So sorry.” Desperate to escape, I left him open-mouthed and stunned. I didn’t think I could bear another moment of polite behaviour, or absorb another secret. He’d forget about me, soon enough.
If only I knew what the future held.